a far country-第74章
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but the city at large。 The stronghold of Scotch Presbyterianism had
become a London or a Paris； a Gomorrah！
Mrs。 Hambleton Durrett went her way； and Mr。 Durrett his。 The less said
about Mr。 Durrett's wayeven in this suddenly advanced agethe better。
As for Nancy； she seemed to the distant eye to be walking through life in
a stately and triumphant manner。 I read in the newspapers of her doings；
her comings and goings； sometimes she was away for months together； often
abroad； and when she was at home I saw her； but infrequently； under
conditions more or less formal。 Not that she was formal；or I： our
intercourse seemed eloquent of an intimacy in a tantalizing state of
suspense。 Would that intimacy ever be renewed？ Thus
was a question on which I sometimes speculated。 The situation that had
suspended or put an end to it； as the case might be； was never referred
to by either of us。
One afternoon in the late winter of the year following that in which we
had given a dinner to the Scherers （where the Durretts had rather
marvellously appeared together） I left my office about three o'clocka
most unusual occurrence。 I was restless； unable to fix my mind on my
work； filled with unsatisfied yearnings the object of which I sought to
keep vague； and yet I directed my steps westward along Boyne Street until
I came to the Art Museum； where a loan exhibition was being held。 I
entered； bought a catalogue； and presently found myself standing before
number 103； designated as a portrait of Mrs。 Hambleton Durrett；painted
in Paris the autumn before by a Polish artist then much in vogue；
Stanislaus Czesky。 Nancywas it Nancy？was standing facing me； tall；
superb in the maturity of her beauty； with one hand resting on an antique
table； a smile upon her lips； a gentle mockery in her eyes as though
laughing at the world she adorned。 With the smile and the mockery
somehow significant； too； of an achieved inaccessibilitywent the sheen
of her clinging gown and the glint of the heavy pearls drooping from her
high throat to her waist。 These caught the eye； but failed at length to
hold it； for even as I looked the smile faded； the mockery turned to
wistfulness。 So I thought； and looked againto see the wistfulness： the
smile had gone； the pearls seemed heavier。 Was it a trick of the artist？
had he seen what I saw； or thought I saw？ or was it that imagination
which by now I might have learned to suspect and distrust。 Wild longings
took possession of me； for the portrait had seemed to emphasize at once
how distant now she was from me； and yet how near！ I wanted to put that
nearness to the test。 Had she really changed？ did anyone really change？
and had I not been a fool to accept the presentment she had given me？ I
remembered those moments when our glances had met as across barriers in
flashes of understanding。 After all； the barriers were mere relics of
the superstition of the past。 What if I went to her now？ I felt that
I needed her as I never had needed anyone in all my life。。。。 I was
aroused by the sound of lowered voices beside me。
〃That's Mrs。 Hambleton Durrett；〃 I heard a woman say。 〃Isn't she
beautiful？〃
The note of envy struck me sharplyhorribly。 Without waiting to listen
to the comment of her companion I hurried out of the building into the
cold； white sunlight that threw into bold relief the mediocre houses of
the street。 Here was everyday life； but the portrait had suggested that
which might have beenmight be yet。 What did I mean by this？ I didn't
know； I didn't care to define it；a renewal of her friendship； of our
intimacy。 My being cried out for it； and in the world in which I lived
we took what we wantedwhy not this？ And yet for an instant I stood on
the sidewalk to discover that in new situations I was still subject to
unaccountable qualms of that thing I had been taught to call
〃conscience〃； whether it were conscience or not must be left to the
psychologists。 I was marriedterrible word！ the shadow of that
Institution fell athwart me as the sun went under a cloud； but the sun
came out again as I found myself walking toward the Durrett house
reflecting that numbers of married men called on Nancy； and that what I
had in mind in regard to her was nothing that the court would have
pronounced an infringement upon the Institution。。。。 I reached her steps；
the long steps still guarded by the curved wrought…iron railings
reminiscent of Nathaniel's day； though the 〃portals〃 were gone； a modern
vestibule having replaced them； I rang the bell； the butler； flung open
the doors。 He； at any rate； did not seem surprised to see me here； he
greeted me with respectful cordiality and led me； as a favoured guest；
through the big drawing…room into the salon。
〃Mr。 Paret； Madam！〃
Nancy； rose quickly from the low chair where she sat cutting the pages of
a French novel。
〃Hugh！〃 she exclaimed。 〃I'm out if anyone calls。 Bring tea；〃 she added
to the man； who retired。 For a moment we stood gazing at each other；
questioningly。 〃Well； won't you sit down and stay awhile？〃 she asked。
I took a chair on the opposite side of the fire。
〃I just thought I'd drop in；〃 I said。
〃I am flattered；〃 said Nancy； 〃that a person so affaire should find time
to call on an old friend。 Why； I thought you never left your office
until seven o'clock。〃
〃I don't； as a rule； but to…day I wasn't particularly busy； and I thought
I'd go round to the Art Museum and look at your portrait。〃
〃More flattery！ Hugh； you're getting quite human。 What do you think of
it？〃
〃I like it。 I think it quite remarkable。〃
〃Have a cigarette！〃
I took one。
〃So you really like it；〃 she said。
〃Don't you？〃
〃Oh； I think it's a trifleromantic；〃 she replied 〃But that's Czesky。
He made me quite cross；the feminine presentation of America； the
spoiled woman who has shed responsibilities and is beginning to have a
glimpsejust a little oneof the emptiness of it all。〃
I was stirred。
〃Then why do you accept it； if it isn't you？〃 I demanded。 〃One doesn't
refuse Czesky's canvases；〃 she replied。 〃And what difference does it
make？ It amused him； and he was fairly subtle about it。 Only those who
are looking for romance； like you； are able to guess what he meant； and
they would think they saw it anyway； even if he had painted meextinct。〃
〃Extinct！〃 I repeated。
She laughed。
〃Hugh； you're a silly old goose！〃
〃That's why I came here； I think； to be told so；〃 I said。
Tea was brought in。 A sense of at…homeness stole over me；I was more at
home here in this room with Nancy； than in any other place in the world；
here； where everything was at once soothing yet stimulating； expressive
of her； even the smaller objects that caught my eye；the crystal
inkstand tipped with gold； the racks for the table books； her paper…
cutter。 Nancy's was a discriminating luxury。 And her talk！ The
lightness with which she touched life； the unexplored depths of her；
guessed at but never fathomed！ Did she feel a little the need of me as I
felt the need of her？
〃Why； I believe you're incurably romantic； Hugh；〃 she said laughingly；
when the men had left the room。 〃Here you are； what they call a paragon
of success； a future senator； Ambassador to England。 I hear of those
remarkable things you have doneeven in New York the other day a man was
asking me if I knew Mr。 Paret； and spoke of you as one of the coming men。
I suppose you will be moving there； soon。 A practical success！ It
always surprises me when I think of it； I find it difficult to remember
what a dreamer you were and here you turn out to be still a dreamer！
Have you discovered； too； the emptiness of it all？〃 she inquired
provokingly。 〃I must say you don't look it〃she gave me a critical；
quizzical glance〃you look quite prosperous and contented； as though you
enjoyed your power。〃
I laughed uneasily。
〃And then；〃 she continued； 〃and then one day when your luncheon has
disagreed with youyou walk into a gallery and see a portrait ofof an
old friend for whom in youth； when you were a dreamer； you professed a
sentimental attachment； and you exclaim that the artist is a discerning
man who has discovered the se
