《夜与日》第135章

requiem　for　the　death　of　poetry　by　herself；　she　
charmed　herself　into　good　spirits　again　by　remembering　
the　existence　of　Mozart。　She　begged　Cassandra　to　play　to　
her；　and　when　they　went　upstairs　Cassandra　opened　the　
piano　directly；　and　did　her　best　to　create　an　atmosphere　
of　unmixed　beauty。　At　the　sound　of　the　first　notes　
Katharine　and　Rodney　both　felt　an　enormous　sense　of　
relief　at　the　license　which　the　music　gave　them　to　loosen　
their　hold　upon　the　mechanism　of　behavior。　They　lapsed　
into　the　depths　of　thought。　Mrs。　Hilbery　was　soon　spirited　
away　into　a　perfectly　congenial　mood；　that　was　half　
reverie　and　half　slumber；　half　delicious　melancholy　and　
half　pure　bliss。　Mr。　Hilbery　alone　attended。　He　was　extremely　
musical；　and　made　Cassandra　aware　that　he　listened　
to　every　note。　She　played　her　best；　and　won　his　
approval。　Leaning　slightly　forward　in　his　chair；　and　turning　
his　little　green　stone；　he　weighed　the　intention　of　
her　phrases　approvingly；　but　stopped　her　suddenly　to　
plain　of　a　noise　behind　him。　The　window　was　
unhasped。　He　signed　to　Rodney；　who　crossed　the　room　
immediately　to　put　the　matter　right。　He　stayed　a　moment　
longer　by　the　window　than　was；　perhaps；　necessary；　and　
having　done　what　was　needed；　drew　his　chair　a　little　
closer　than　before　to　Katharine’s　side。　The　music　went　
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on。　Under　cover　of　some　exquisite　run　of　melody；　he　leant　
towards　her　and　whispered　something。　She　glanced　at　
her　father　and　mother；　and　a　moment　later　left　the　room；　
almost　unobserved；　with　Rodney。　
“What　is　it？”　she　asked；　as　soon　as　the　door　was　shut。　
Rodney　made　no　answer；　but　led　her　downstairs　into　
the　diningroom　on　the　ground　floor。　Even　when　he　had　
shut　the　door　he　said　nothing；　but　went　straight　to　the　
window　and　parted　the　curtains。　He　beckoned　to　Katharine。　
“There　he　is　again；”　he　said。　“Look；　there—under　the　
lamppost。”　
Katharine　looked。　She　had　no　idea　what　Rodney　was　
talking　about。　A　vague　feeling　of　alarm　and　mystery　possessed　
her。　She　saw　a　man　standing　on　the　opposite　side　
of　the　road　facing　the　house　beneath　a　lamppost。　As　
they　looked　the　figure　turned；　walked　a　few　steps；　and　
came　back　again　to　his　old　position。　It　seemed　to　her　
that　he　was　looking　fixedly　at　her；　and　was　conscious　of　
her　gaze　on　him。　She　knew；　in　a　flash；　who　the　man　was　
who　was　watching　them。　She　drew　the　curtain　abruptly。　
“Denham；”　said　Rodney。　“He　was　there　last　night　too。”　
He　spoke　sternly。　His　whole　manner　had　bee　full　of　
authority。　Katharine　felt　almost　as　if　he　accused　her　of　
some　crime。　She　was　pale　and　unfortably　agitated；　as　
much　by　the　strangeness　of　Rodney’s　behavior　as　by　the　
sight　of　Ralph　Denham。　
“If　he　chooses　to　e—”　she　said　defiantly。　
“You　can’t　let　him　wait　out　there。　I　shall　tell　him　to　e　
in。”　Rodney　spoke　with　such　decision　that　when　he　raised　
his　arm　Katharine　expected　him　to　draw　the　curtain　instantly。　
She　caught　his　hand　with　a　little　exclamation。　
“Wait！”　she　cried。　“I　don’t　allow　you。”　
“You　can’t　wait；”　he　replied。　“You’ve　gone　too　far。”　His　
hand　remained　upon　the　curtain。　“Why　don’t　you　admit；　
Katharine；”　he　broke　out；　looking　at　her　with　an　expression　
of　contempt　as　well　as　of　anger；　“that　you　love　him？　
Are　you　going　to　treat　him　as　you　treated　me？”　
She　looked　at　him；　wondering；　in　spite　of　all　her　perplexity；　
at　the　spirit　that　possessed　him。　
“I　forbid　you　to　draw　the　curtain；”　she　said。　
He　reflected；　and　then　took　his　hand　away。　
“I’ve　no　right　to　interfere；”　he　concluded。　“I’ll　leave　
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Night　and　Day　
you。　Or；　if　you　like；　we’ll　go　back　to　the　drawingroom。”　
“No。　I　can’t　go　back；”　she　said；　shaking　her　head。　She　
bent　her　head　in　thought。　
“You　love　him；　Katharine；”　Rodney　said　suddenly。　His　
tone　had　lost　something　of　its　sternness；　and　might　have　
been　used　to　urge　a　child　to　confess　its　fault。　She　raised　
her　eyes　and　fixed　them　upon　him。　
“I　love　him？”　she　repeated。　He　nodded。　She　searched　
his　face；　as　if　for　further　confirmation　of　his　words；　and；　
as　he　remained　silent　and　expectant；　turned　away　once　
more　and　continued　her　thoughts。　He　observed　her　closely；　
but　without　stirring；　as　if　he　gave　her　time　to　make　up　
her　mind　to　fulfil　her　obvious　duty。　The　strains　of　Mozart　
reached　them　from　the　room　above。　
“Now；”　she　said　suddenly；　with　a　sort　of　desperation；　
rising　from　her　chair　and　seeming　to　mand　Rodney　to　
fulfil　his　part。　He　drew　the　curtain　instantly；　and　she　
made　no　attempt　to　stop　him。　Their　eyes　at　once　sought　
the　same　spot　beneath　the　lamppost。　
“He’s　not　there！”　she　exclaimed。　
No　one　was　there。　William　threw　the　window　up　and　looked　
out。　The　wind　rushed　into　the　room；　together　with　the　
sound　of　distant　wheels；　footsteps　hurrying　along　the　pavement；　
and　the　cries　of　sirens　hooting　down　the　river。　
“Denham！”　William　cried。　
“Ralph！”　said　Katharine；　but　she　spoke　scarcely　louder　
than　she　might　have　spoken　to　some　one　in　the　same　
room。　With　their　eyes　fixed　upon　the　opposite　side　of　the　
road；　they　did　not　notice　a　figure　close　to　the　railing　
which　divided　the　garden　from　the　street。　But　Denham　
had　crossed　the　road　and　was　standing　there。　They　were　
startled　by　his　voice　close　at　hand。　
“Rodney！”　
“There　you　are！　e　in；　Denham。”　Rodney　went　to　the　
front　door　and　opened　it。　“Here　he　is；”　he　said；　bringing　
Ralph　with　him　into　the　diningroom　where　Katharine　
stood；　with　her　back　to　the　open　window。　Their　eyes　met　
for　a　second。　Denham　looked　half　dazed　by　the　strong　
light；　and；　buttoned　in　his　overcoat；　with　his　hair　ruffled　
across　his　forehead　by　the　wind；　he　seemed　like　somebody　
rescued　from　an　open　boat　out　at　sea。　William　
promptly　shut　the　window　and　drew　the　curtains。　He　acted　
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with　a　cheerful　decision　as　if　he　were　master　of　the　situation；　
and　knew　exactly　what　he　meant　to　do。　
“You’re　the　first　to　hear　the　news；　Denham；”　he　said。　
“Katharine　isn’t　going　to　marry　me；　after　all。”　
“Where　shall　I　put—”　Ralph　began　vaguely；　h