时间：<2020-06-01 23:22:40 作者：8k少年神探狄仁杰粤语版vgE 浏览量：9777
He came over to the bed and looked down on her. Her eyes were haunting ... and the vestiges of youth about her face. But he no longer pitied or spared. Boarzell had taught him his first lesson—that only the hard shall triumph in the hard fight, and that he who would spare his brother shall do no better than he who would spare himself.
"You know I don't want to meet your father—and I'm sure he'll disgrace us.""No!—how can I?"
"To me?""Quite so," said Albert, who seemed to have learned sarcasm in exile—"h?morrhage is so deuced easy to sham."
"The fools! Wot do they think they're a-doing of? D?an't they know how to put out a fire?""Will you marry me, Naomi?""Yes"—said Dr. Espinette. He did not feel inclined to mince matters with Backfield.
She began to knock, first softly, then more desperately. She must get in. Nothing was to be heard except her own despairing din—the house seemed plunged in[Pg 316] sleep. Rose's fear grew, spread black bat's wings, and darkened all her thoughts—for she knew that someone must have heard her, she could not make all this racket quite unheard."Yes."
"Stop—you're spoiling my h?adge!"Reuben crept out of his thorn cavern and looked down the slope. At the bottom by Socknersh one or two lanterns moved through the dusk. He stiffly threw up his arm and tried to shout. His throat felt cramped and swollen, and it was not till after one or two attempts that a sound pitifully like a bleat came out of it. A voice answered him from the hollow, and then he saw that they were carrying something. He limped painfully down to them. Richard, Boorman, and Handshut carried a hurdle between them, and on the hurdle lay a draggled boy, whose clenched hand clutched a tuft of earth and grass as a victim might clutch a handful of his murderer's hair.
At last he wandered desperately away, treading the furrows of his new ground on Boarzell, reckless that he trod the young seed harrowed into them. In that black moment even his winter crops were nothing to him. He saw, thought of, realised only one thing—and that was Rose, the false, the gay, the wanton, and the beautiful—oh the beautiful!—laughing at him from another man's arms. He could see her laughing, see just how her lips parted, just how her teeth shone—those little teeth, so regular except for the pointed canines—just how the dimples came at the corners of her mouth, those dear little hollows which he had dug with his kisses...."I'll——" he began desperately. But even Robert had the wit not to finish his sentence.
Then came a day early in December, when they were walking home together through the mud of Totease Lane, their faces whipped into redness by the south-west wind. Naomi wore a russet cloak and hood, and her hair, on which a few rain-drops glistened, was teasing her eyes. She held Reuben's arm, for the ruts were treacherous, and he noticed the spring and freedom of her walk. A sudden turn of the lane brought them round due west, and between them and the sunset stood Boarzell, its club of firs knobbily outlined against the grape-red sky. It smote itself upon Reuben's eyes almost as a thing forgotten—there, half blotting out the sunset with its blackness. Unconsciously his arm with Naomi's hand on it contracted against his side, while the colour deepened on his cheek-bones."Sad fur them, I reckon, but not fur me. I'm well shut of them."