第32部分 (第2/7頁)
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through him like a pulse; as he stood in the upright flame of
praise; transmitting the pulse of Creation。
And ever and again he appeared to her as the dread flame of
power。 Sometimes; when he stood in the doorway; his face lit up;
he seemed like an Annunciation to her; her heart beat fast。 And
she watched him; suspended。 He had a dark; burning being that
she dreaded and resisted。 She was subject to him as to the Angel
of the Presence。 She waited upon him and heard his will; and she
trembled in his service。
Then all this passed away。 Then he loved her for her
childishness and for her strangeness to him; for the wonder of
her soul which was different from his soul; and which made him
genuine when he would be false。 And she loved him for the way he
sat loosely in a chair; or for the way he came through a door
with his face open and eager。 She loved his ringing; eager
voice; and the touch of the unknown about him; his absolute
simplicity。
Yet neither of them was quite satisfied。 He felt; somewhere;
that she did not respect him。 She only respected him as far as
he was related to herself。 For what he was; beyond her; she had
no care。 She did not care for what he represented in himself。 It
is true; he did not know himself what he represented。 But
whatever it was she did not really honour it。 She did no service
to his work as a lace…designer; nor to himself as bread…winner。
Because he went down to the office and worked every
day……that entitled him to no respect or regard from her; he
knew。 Rather she despised him for it。 And he almost loved her
for this; though at first it maddened him l