按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
thorny bushes pushed their straggling way through the dry soil；
ineffectively as far as the grace of the landscape was concerned； for they
merely served to emphasise the barren aridness of the land that stretched
before the tents； sloping gradually to the distant hills。
The hills were uninteresting enough in themselves； they had no
grandeur of outline； no picturesqueness even； though at morning and
evening the sun； like a great magician； clothed them with beauty at a
touch。
They had begun to change； to soften； to blush rose red in the evening
light； when a woman came to the entrance of the largest of the tents and
looked toward them。 She leaned against the support on one side of the
canvas flap； and； putting back her head； rested that； too； against it； while
her eyes wandered over the plain and over the distant hills。
She was bareheaded； for the covering of the tent projected a few feet
to form an awning overhead。 The gentle breeze which had risen with
sundown stirred the soft brown tendrils of hair on her temples； and
fluttered her pink cotton gown a little。 She stood very still； with her arms
hanging and her hands clasped loosely in front of her。 There was about her
whole attitude an air of studied quiet which in some vague fashion the
slight clasp of her hands accentuated。 Her face； with its tightly； almost
rigidly closed lips； would have been quite in keeping with the impression
of conscious calm which her entire presence suggested； had it not been
that when she raised her eyes a strange contradiction to this idea was
afforded。 They were large gray eyes； unusually bright and rather startling
in effect； for they seemed the only live thing about her。 Gleaming from her
still； set face； there was something almost alarming in their brilliancy。
They softened with a sudden glow of pleasure as they rested on the
88
… Page 89…
STORIES
translucent green of the wheat…fields under the broad generous sunlight；
and then wandered to where the pure vivid yellow of the mustard…flower
spread in waves to the base of the hills； now mystically veiled in radiance。
She stood motionless； watching their melting； elusive changes from
palpitating rose to the transparent purple of amethyst。 The stillness of
evening was broken by the monotonous； not unmusical creaking of a
Persian wheel at some little distance to the left of the tent。 The well stood
in a little grove of trees； between their branches she could see； when she
turned her head； the coloured saris of the village women； where they stood
in groups chattering as they drew the water； and the little naked brown
babies that toddled beside them or sprawled on the hard ground beneath
the trees。 From the village of flat…roofed mud houses under the low hill at
the back of the tents； other women were crossing the plain toward the well；
their terra…cotta water…jars poised easily on their heads； casting long
shadows on the sun…baked ground as they came。
Presently； in the distance； from the direction of the sunlit hills opposite
a little group of men came into sight。 Far off； the mustard… coloured
jackets and the red turbans of the orderlies made vivid splashes of colour
on the dull plain。 As they came nearer； the guns slung across their
shoulders； the cases of mathematical instruments； the hammers； and other
heavy baggage they carried for the sahib； became visible。 A little in front；
at walking pace rode the sahib himself； making notes as he came in a book
he held before him。 The girl at the tent entrance watched the advance of
the little company indifferently； it seemed； except for a slight tightening of
the muscles about her mouth； her face remained unchanged。 While he was
still some little distance away； the man with the notebook raised his head
and smiled awkwardly as he saw her standing there。 Awkwardness；
perhaps； best describes the whole man。 He was badly put together； loose…
jointed； ungainly。 The fact that he was tall profited him nothing； for it
merely emphasised the extreme ungracefulness of his figure。 His long pale
face was made paler by the shock of coarse； tow… coloured hair； his eyes；
even； looked colourless； though they were certainly the least uninteresting
feature of his face； for they were not devoid of expression。 He had a way
of slouching when he moved that singularly intensified the general
89
… Page 90…
STORIES
uncouthness of his appearance。 〃Are you very tired？〃 asked his wife；
gently； when he had dismounted close to the tent。 The question would
have been an unnecessary one had it been put to her instead of to her
husband； for her voice had that peculiar flat toneless sound for which
extreme weariness is answerable。
〃Well； no； my dear； not very；〃 he replied； drawling out the words with
an exasperating air of delivering a final verdict； after deep reflection on
the subject。
The girl glanced once more at the fading colours on the hills。 〃Come in
and rest；〃 she said； moving aside a little to let him pass。
She stood lingering a moment after he had entered the tent； as though
unwilling to leave the outer air； and before she turned to follow him she
drew a deep breath； and her hand went for one swift second to her throat
as though she felt stifled。
Later on that evening she sat in her tent； sewing by the light of the
lamp that stood on her little table。
Opposite to her； her husband stretched his ungainly length in a deck…
chair； and turned over a pile of official notes。 Every now and then her eyes
wandered from the gay silks of the table…cover she was embroidering to
the canvas walls which bounded the narrow space into which their few
household goods were crowded。 Outside there was a deep hush。 The
silence of the vast empty plain seemed to work its way slowly； steadily in
toward the little patch of light set in its midst。 The girl felt it in every
nerve； it was as though some soft…footed； noiseless； shapeless creature；
whose presence she only dimly divined； was approaching nearer/nearer/。
The heavy outer stillness was in some way made more terrifying by the
rustle of the papers her husband was reading； by the creaking of his chair
as he moved； and by the little fidgeting grunts and half…exclamations
which from time to time broke from him。 His wife's hand shook at every
unintelligible mutter from him； and the slight habitual contraction between
her eyes deepened。
All at once she threw her work down on to the table。 〃For heaven's
sake/please/； John； /talk/！〃 she cried。 Her eyes； for the moment's space in
which they met the startled ones of her husband； had a wild； hunted look；
90
… Page 91…
STORIES
but it was gone almost before his slow brain had time to note that it had
been thereand was vaguely disturbing。 She laughed a little unsteadily。
〃Did I startle you？ I'm sorry。 I〃she laughed again〃I believe I'm a
little nervous。 When one is all day alone〃 She paused without finishing
the sentence。 The man's face changed suddenly。 A wave of tenderness
swept over it； and at the same time an expression of half… incredulous
delight shone in his pale eyes。
〃Poor little girl； are you really lonely？〃 he said。 Even the real feeling
in his tone failed to rob his voice of its peculiarly irritating grating quality。
He rose awkwardly； and moved to his wife's side。
Involuntarily she shrank a little； and the hand which he had stretched
out to touch her hair sank to his side。 She recovered herself immediately；
and turned her face up to his； though she did not raise her eyes； but he did
not kiss her。 Instead； he stood in an embarrassed fashion a moment by her
side； and then w