Chapter 23 Chapter Eighteen

She didn't hesitate any longer.She resolved to leave Venice on the Saturday (the Saturday on which he left Wragby).She will be in London next Monday, so she can see him, and she writes him a letter and sends it to his address in London, asking him to write back at the Harlan Hotel and be there at seven o'clock on Monday evening. to meet her. She felt a strange and complicated anger in her, and all her senses seemed to be numb.She wouldn't even tell Hilda about it, and Hilda, not flattered by her obstinacy, was graciously on friendly terms with a Dutchwoman whom Connie felt was a woman-to-woman relationship. A kindness that is a little stuffy is abominable; on the contrary, Hilda is not afraid of the difficulty.

Sir Malcolm decides to go back with Connie, and Denken will accompany Hilda back.The old artist was a pampered man, and he bought two sleeping berth tickets for "Oriental Express", although Connie didn't like the luxurious sleeping car and the vulgar and corrupt atmosphere in the car.However, it is faster to get to Paris by this kind of car. Sir Malcolm was always uncomfortable when he went home to see his wife.It was a habit handed down from the lifetime of his first wife.But there was going to be a grouse game at home, and he had to be there in time.The beautiful Connie, sun-baked, sat silently, forgetting all about the surrounding scenery.

"Go back to Wragbay, you're feeling a little bored," said her father, seeing her morose state. "I might be going back to Wragby," she said suddenly, looking at her father with those large blue eyes which showed the astonishment of a man with a guilty conscience. look. "You mean to stay in Paris for a while?" "No! I mean never go back to Wragby." His old man had had enough of his own little troubles, and he wished sincerely not to be burdened with hers. "How do you say that, so suddenly?" he asked. "I'm going to have a baby."

This sentence was the first time she said it to someone, and her life seemed to be split in two with this sentence. "How do you know?" her father asked. she smiles. "how could I know!" "Certainly not Clifford's child?" "Yes! Someone else's." She felt a little pleasure that made him unpredictably anxious. "Do I know that man?" asked Sir Malcolm. "No! You never saw him." After a long silence, he said: "What are you going to do?" "I don't know, that's the problem." "Is there no way to discuss it with Clifford?"

"I think Clifford would like children," said Connie; "he told me, when you talked to him last time, that he would never mind if I had a child, so long as I played it safe." "In this case, it was the only sane thing he said, so I think there's nothing wrong with it." "How do you know?" said Connie, looking straight into her father's eyes, which were somewhat like her own, blue and large, but with a certain uneasiness about them, sometimes like the eyes of a disturbed toddler. , sometimes with that eccentric and selfish look, usually cheerful and cautious.

"You could give Clifford a Chatterley heir, and put another baronet in Wragby." There was a half-sensual smile on Sir Malcolm's face. "But I guess I don't want to," she said. "Why not? Do you feel attached to that other? Hey! My boy, let me tell you a little truth. The world goes on. Wragby exists, and it will continue to exist, and the world is more or less Fixed, we have to adapt to objective existence on the surface. In terms of recognition, my personal opinion is: we can do whatever we like. Emotions are changeable. You can like this person this year and another next year. But Wragby lives on, and you'll be loyal to Wragby as long as Wragby is true to you, and besides, you can do whatever you want, but if you wreck things, you don't get much good, if people like Wreck as much as you want, you have your own income, it's the only thing a man can depend on, but wrecking doesn't do you much good, give Wragby a little baron: it's a fun thing ."

Sir Malcolm smiled again, but Connie was silent. "I hope you finally got a real man," he said to her after a moment, sensually angry. "Yes, I got it. But that's where the trouble is. There are very few real men in the world," she said. "Oh, God! It's true." He mused, "It's rare indeed!"Well, my dear, look at you like this, he is a happy man, he will never give you any trouble, will he? " "Ah! No! He left me completely alone." "Naturally! Naturally! That's what a real man should be." Sir Malcolm was pleased.Connie was his favourite, he had always liked her women, she was not as motherly as Hilda, and he had always hated Clifford, so he was happy, and he showed kindness to his daughter. Amiable warmth, as if the unborn child was his.

He accompanied her by car to the Harlan Hotel, and only went to his club after seeing that she had settled down. She said that he did not need to accompany her at night. She got a letter from Mellors. I don't want to be in your restaurant, but I'll meet you at seven o'clock in front of the Rooster Cafe in Adam Street. There he was waiting for her, tall and thin, in a thin black suit that made him look very strange.He had an air of natural excellence, but none of the custom-made air of a man of her class, though she saw at once that he was a man of distinction.He had a natural manner, which was a far better class thing than Kaiser.

"Ah! You're here! You look so good!" "Yes! But your face may not be all right." She watched his face uneasily, he was thin, his cheekbones showed, but his eyes smiled at her, and she felt that there was no separation from him.Sudden.Her strength to maintain her appearance slackened.Something physical overflowed from him, which made her feel peaceful, happy and free.Her keen pursuit of happiness, this girl, immediately told her: I am happy when he is here!All the sunshine in Venice did not give her this inner glow and warmth. "Does that strike you as horrible?" she asked when they sat down across from each other at a table.

"People are always scary." He said, he was too thin, she saw it now, she saw his hands, the same as before, like a sleeping beast, with a strange kind of ecstasy attitude on the table.She really wanted to bring it to kiss.But she doesn't quite have the guts. "Aren't you very sad?" she said. "Yes, I feel sad, and there are still sad days. I know I'm stupid to feel sad." "Don't you feel like a dog with a tin can on its tail? Clifford says you have that look." He looks at her.It would be cruel to say such things to him now: for his pride had suffered greatly.

"I think so," he said. She had no idea of ​​the furious bitter resentment that the insult had aroused against him. They were silent for a while. "Do you miss me?" she asked. "I'm glad you're away from all that." They fell silent again. "But do people believe things about you and me?" she asked. "No! I never thought they would believe it." "Where's Clifford?" "I don't think he does either, he puts the matter aside and doesn't think about it, but, of course, that makes him never want to see me again." "I'm about to have a baby." The expression of his face, of his whole body, was dead, and his dark eyes looked at her with a gaze which she could not comprehend: it looked at her like a flaming soul. "Tell me you're happy!" she begged, shaking his hand.She saw a certain ecstasy of victory overflowing from his heart, but this ecstasy was entwined with something she did not understand. "That's the future," he said. "Aren't you happy?" she insisted. "I don't trust the future very much." "But you needn't worry about any responsibility. Clifford will accept the child as if he were born, and he must be happy." She saw him pale and shrink back after hearing this, and he didn't answer a word. "You want me to go back to Clifford and give Wragby a baby boy?" she asked. He looked at her, pale and distant, with a ferocious little wry smile hanging on his face. "You don't have to tell him who the father is!" "Ah!" she said, even when I told him he would take the child. " He thought for a while. "Yes!" he said finally to himself, and he wanted it too. " They were silent, and there seemed to be a wide abyss between them. "But you don't want me to go back to Clifford, do you?" she asked him. "What do you want yourself to do?" "I would like to live with you." She said simply. At this he could not help feeling little flames galloping across his belly, and he lowered his head, and looked at her again with his dark eyes. "If it's worth it to you," he said, "I'm nothing." "You have more stuff than most men, well, you know it yourself," she said. "Yes, to a certain extent I know." He thought for a while, and then continued: "People always say that I am too feminine, but this is not true. I am not feminine. Because I don't like shooting birds, and it's not because I don't like getting money or climbing. It would be easy for me to climb in the army, but I don't like the army, although I can handle it well Men, they like me too, and when I lose my temper, they're terrified of me. Well, what makes the Army a dead thing, an absolutely stupid dead thing, is that stupid It is caused by the authoritative, mechanical, and high-level authority. I like men, and men like me, but I can't bear the babbling and shameless airs of the people who run this world. This is why I can't For the sake of advancement, I hate the shamelessness of money, I hate the shamelessness of class, what else can I give to a woman in this world?" "But why give something away? It's not a transaction, we just love each other," she said. "No! No! It's not as simple as that. Life is about moving on. My life doesn't want to be on the right track. It just doesn't want to. So I'm a bit of a piece of shit. I have no right to have a woman in my life. Unless my life accomplishes something—at least internally—that keeps us both fresh. A man should give to a woman what he wants in his life, and if that life is going to be isolating, If this woman is a real woman! I can't just be your male concubine." "Why not?" she said. "Well, because I can't, and you're going to hate this life in no time." "You talk like you can't trust me," she said. He smiled wryly. "The money is yours, the social status is yours, and everything will be decided by you. In short, I am just my wife's meat satiator." "And what else are you?" "I don't blame you for your doubts. No doubt it is invisible. But I am not contemptuous of myself. I understand the meaning of my own existence, though I am well aware that others do not. "Is it possible that after living with me, the meaning of your existence will be reduced?" He paused for a long time before answering: "Maybe" She also thought about it late. "What is the meaning of your existence?" "I tell you, it's invisible. I don't believe in the world, I don't believe in money, I don't believe in progress, I don't believe in the future of our civilization, and if humanity has a future, it has to be a big one." transform." "So what does the real future look like?" "God only knows! I feel like there's something in me mingled with boundless rage. But what exactly it is, I don't know." "Do I want me to tell you?" she said, looking into his face. Do you want me to tell you what you have?That's something no one else has, and something that creates the future, you want me to tell you? " "Tell me," he replied. "It's your own tender courage; it's that thing when you put your hand on my hip and say I have a beautiful hip." A wry smile was evident on his face. "Right!" he said. Then he thought silently. "Yes!" he said, "you're right. It's that. It's all that! In my relationships with men, I feel this thing, I have to physically touch them, and I can't hold back. I I have to be awakened to them, and show them a little tenderness, and even shy away from physical awakening and natural physical tenderness when I make them torment, and this awakening and tenderness are the best--even among men. Between men. Men are strong and brave, not apes, because of that stuff. Yes! It's tenderness, indeed; it's sexual awakening. Sex is really just a contact, the most intimate of all contact. And what we fear is contact. We are only half awake and half living, and we must live and wake fully. Especially we English need a little tenderness and hard work; mutual contact is our Urgent need." She looked at him. "Then why are you afraid of me?" she said. He looked at her for a long time before answering: "It's because of your money and your status, it's because of all the world you have" "But don't I have warmth?" Connie asked enthusiastically: He looked at her sullenly, absently. "Yes! There are! Come and go, like myself." "But can't you trust that tenderness exists between man and me?" she asked, gazing at him anxiously. She saw his face softened, and the air of resistance gradually disappeared." "Maybe" he said. Both were silent. "I want you to hold me in your arms," ​​she said, "I want you to tell me you're glad we're going to have a baby." She was so beautiful, so warm, so eager that his insides stirred for her. "I think we can go to my house," he said, "though that's another scandalous thing." She saw and forgot the world again, his face showed a gentle, passionate, soft and pure radiance. . They walked down lonely streets to the High Castle Square.His house is on the highest floor, a rooftop building, neat and generous, and he has a gas stove to cook his own food. She took off her clothes and asked him to take off his, too. The tender and fresh woman in the early pregnancy is touching. "I shouldn't bother you," he said. "Don't say that!" she said. "Love me! Love me and say you won't abandon me! Say you won't abandon me! Say you'll never let me go back to the world, or to anybody." go there!" She clings to him, clinging to his thin, strong naked body - the only shelter she's ever known. "Then I will keep you," said he, "if you will!" He hugged her tightly. "Tell me you are glad to have the child!" she repeated. "Kiss him! Kiss where the child is, and say one is glad he is there." But he hesitated. "I'm terrified of children being born into this world; I'm terrified of their future." "But you've put him in me, yes, he's gentle, this is his future. Kiss him!" He shuddered because it was right. "Be gentle with him, this is his future." At this moment, his love for her is overwhelming.He kissed her belly and the Hill of Beauty, he pretended to kiss her womb and the fetus in it. "Oh, you love me! You love me!" she cried softly, as blind and indistinct as her sexual cries.She gently inserted into hers, feeling the waves of tenderness rushing from his own heart to hers, and the two loving hearts were burning between them. As he went inside her, he knew that this was what he was supposed to do: make tender contact with her while preserving his pride, dignity, and manly integrity.In short, although she is rich and he has nothing to do, his pride and righteousness will not allow him to withdraw his warmth for her because of this.He thought to himself: "I am for the sensuous contact and the tender contact of the flesh with the world. She is my companion. She has helped me to fight money, machinery, and the dull ideals of the world's animals. Thank God, I Got a woman! I got a woman who is gentle and understands me, join me! Thank God, she is not a violent whore. Thank God, she is the most gentle and conscious woman." When his semen was on her During penetration, in this act of creation—that is the act of remote reproduction—his soul also penetrated her. Now she was completely determined: he and she were inseparable.However, how, what method, that is still to be resolved. "Do you hate yourself on Dee Gutis?" she asked. "Don't tell me about her." "Ah! You must let me tell, because you once liked her; and you were intimate with her. As you are now with me, so people must tell me. After this intimacy between you, and hate Isn't it a little scary for her to come to this field? What's the reason for this?" "I don't know. Her will seems to be preparing against me every moment! Alas! Her ferocious female will, her liberty! Such liberty ends in the most brutal tyranny! Ah, she took to use her liberty against me as if she had thrown vitriol in my face." "But she's not out of you even now. Does she still love you?" "No, no! The reason why she didn't give up on me was because she had a kind of mad hatred, and she was determined to hurt me." "But she must have loved you." "No! Well, sometimes maybe. She's attracted to me, and I think she hates me for that. Sometimes she loves me, but every now and then she starts to be harsh on me. Her greatest desire is It was hard on me, and that couldn't make her change. In the beginning; her desire was against me." "Maybe it's because she thinks you don't really love her, and she wants you to love her." "My God! What was that idea!" "But you never really had her, did you? That's what you did to her." "What can I do? I'm beginning to love her; but she's always giving me a hard time, no, don't talk about emptiness, that's sport, and she's common sense, these days, if I'm allowed to I will kill her, this violent thing in the form of a woman like a wild beast. If I can kill her, all these misfortunes will be over! People should really allow this kind of evil and violence. When a woman's land is occupied by her stubborn will, when her stubborn will is resisting everything, it is terrible, and she must be killed." "And the men, when they are possessed by Gu Sao's will, shouldn't they be killed too?" "Yes! Same! . . . But I have to get rid of her, or she will come after me again. I have wanted to tell you for a long time that I will divorce if possible. So we must be careful, you and I, we must not When people see us together, if she bumps into you and me, I will absolutely, absolutely not be able to bear it." Connie mused. "So we can't be together?" she said. "Not in about six months. But I believe my divorce will be finalized in September, so it will have to wait until next March." "But the baby is due around the end of February," she said. He fell silent. "I wish all Cliffords and Bairds were dead!" said he. "You don't have much tenderness for them," she said. "Treat them with tenderness? But perhaps the most tender thing to them is to kill them! They cannot live! They only know how to destroy life. The souls in them are terrifying. Death should be sweet to them. People should allow me to go against them and kill them!" "But you would never do that," she said. "I will! I'd kill them with more equanimity than a weasel. The weasel has its solitary beauty. But there are too many of them. Ah, I'd kill them all if I could. " "Maybe you're still afraid to do that." "Hmm." Connie had a lot on her mind now, no doubt he absolutely wanted to get rid of Betty Gutis, and she thought he was right.The final fight was terrible.That is to say, she will live alone until spring.Maybe she could divorce Clifford.but how?If Mellors's name was mentioned, the divorce on his part would be inseparable.What a nuisance!Can't a man go all the way to the ends of the earth and get away from it all? " This is impossible.Now the end of the world is only five minutes away from London to Channing Cross Street. As long as there is radio, the earth is not far or near.The king of Dahomey in Africa and the lama of Tibet can listen to London and New York. Be patient!Endure the world is a vast and terrifying web of machines, in which one must proceed very carefully, if he is not to be engulfed in it. Connie told her father what was on her mind. "You know, pa, he's Clifford's gamekeeper, but he was an officer in India. But he's like Colonel Frouvers, and he'd like to go back to his old class." But Sir Malcolm was not fond of the frivolous mysticism of the famous Florence.He felt that there was too much publicity behind all that humility.This kind of haughty behavior--deliberately suppressed haughty behavior--was what the old knight hated most. "Where did your keeper jump out?" asked Sir Malcolm angrily. "He's the son of a miner in Davasha, but he's a man who can't be generous." The knighted artist was even more annoyed. "This looks like a gold mine to me," he said, "and you're clearly an easy gold mine." "No, Papa, you're wrong. You'd know it if you'd seen him. He's a real man. Clifford used to hate him because he was a man without humiliation." "It seems that Clifford has had an instinct for once." Sir Malcolm couldn't bear it, so the telegrapher knew that his daughter had an affair with a hunter.He does not object to this kind of affair, he is just afraid of criticism from the outside world. "I don't care what that man is. He obviously knows how to confuse you. But my God! Think of gossip at leisure! Think of your stepmother when she hears it!" "I know," said Connie. "Gossip is terrible, especially in high society. And he, he was anxious to get his divorce done. I think we might say that the child is someone else's, Don't mention Mellors' name at all." "Another person's? Who?" "Or Duncan Hobbs" He's been our friend since childhood, and he's a famous artist, and he likes me. " "Oh, that's it! Poor Duncan! What good will he get?" "I don't know, but maybe that would give him some kind of compensation." "Really, really? Well, if so, he's a monster! What, you never even had sex with him?" "No! But he really doesn't want to. He just likes to be close to me, but not to be touched." "My God, what a queer generation!" "What I like most about me is being his model. But I never gave him permission." "Poor chap! But this spineless fellow seems capable of anything." "I'd rather have his name with mine, wouldn't you?" "My God! Connie, all this trickery!" "I know! This is disgusting. But what can I do?" "One ruse after another! I think I've lived pros and cons for too long." "Forget it, Dad, didn't you do a lot of tricks when you were young?" "But I do tell you, that's different." "Always say different." Hilda arrived, and she too was furious at the news of this new state of affairs, and she, too, remembered that everyone must know that her sister was having sex with a hunter, and she couldn't help it, it was so, so humiliating! "Why can't we simply flee and go to British Columbia individually, and there will be no criticism?" Connie said. But that's useless.Criticism will still erupt. If Connie wants to go with someone, it is best if she can marry him.This is Hilda's opinion.Sir Malcolm hesitated.He thought maybe things could be salvaged. "Will you meet him, Dad?" Poor Sir Malcolm!He is unwilling.Poor Mellors!He especially didn't want to think, though, that the meeting had finally become a fact, that it was lunch in a club wing, and he was there alone, looking each other in the eye. Sir Malcolm drank a good deal of whiskey, as did Mellors, and they talked freely of India, a subject familiar to the young man. This conversation took up the whole meal, and it was not until the coffee came and the servant left that Sir Malcolm lit a cigar and said earnestly: "Hey, young man, how is my daughter?" Melos had a wry smile on his face. "Well, sir, how is her business?" "You gave her a child." "It's my honor!" Mellors said with a wry smile. "Glory, for God's sake!" said Sir Malcolm with a loud, obscene Scotch laugh. "Glory! Well, how is it? Well, isn't it?" "it is good!" "That's my bet! Ha, ha! My daughter is indeed Mak's daughter! Me too. I've never regretted a good fuck, though her mother... oh my god!" he "But you've warmed her, oh, I can see, you've warmed her. Ha, ha! My blood is in her veins; you know how Set her on fire! Ha, ha, ha! I'm so glad I can tell you she needs that. Ah, she's a good woman, she's a good woman, I'd know if there was a man who knew how to set her on fire , she fits, ha, ha, a gamekeeper, hey, my boy! You're a good poacher! I tell you! Ha, but, now, seriously, how are we going to arrange this? Seriously, you know! Seriously, they were all confused, and Mellors, though a little drunk, was the most sober of the two, and he tried to keep the conversation from getting too muddled, which was not much to say. "Well, you're a hunter! Ah, you're quite right! This kind of hunting is worth the trouble! Isn't it? A woman's touchstone is when you pinch her ass, as long as Touch her butt, and you will know if she is suitable. Ha, ha: I envy you, my child, how old are you!" "thirty-nine." Sir Malcolm frowned. "There are so many? Well, look at your look, you still have twenty years in front of you, ah: whether you are a hunter or not, you are a good rooster. I can see this with only one eye Come out, not like that nasty Clifford: a poor wretch who never had a moment. I like you, my boy, and I bet you're a fellow with a good turtle; ah, you're a little rooster, A fighting rooster, I can see it! A hunter! Ha, ha, I'll never let you watch my game! But seriously, how shall we arrange it? The world is full of with an old woman!" In all seriousness, they were at a loss for what to do, only a sensual, masculine bond formed between the two of them. "You know, my child, if there is anything I can do for you, trust me, Hunter! O Christ! That's admirable! I'm so happy! Oh, I'm so happy, that's what I'm doing. Daughter has blood. Doesn't she? And, you know, she has a good man's income, not much, not much, and you're just getting enough. I'll inherit all I have, it's her Deserved, because he showed her blood in this world full of old women. For seventy years, I have struggled to free myself from the skirts of old women, and so far have not succeeded, but You're a man who can make it, I can see that." "I'm so glad you think of me that way. People always say I'm a monkey." "Oh, of course! My dear friend, what are you but a monkey in the eyes of those old women?" They parted happily; Mellors laughed inwardly all day afterwards. The next day he lunched with Connie and Hilda in a secluded place. "It's a pity that the situation doesn't look good in every way," said Hilda. "I had a lot of fun," he said. I thought you should avoid having children until you both have the freedom to marry and have children. " "God brought the fruit a little too early," he said. "I don't think it's God's business, of course, Connie's money is enough to live on for both of you; but the situation is too hard to bear." "But you don't have to suffer a little bit," he said. "If only you were her!" "Or, even better, if I'm in a cage in a zoo!" "Or, even better, if I'm in a cage in a zoo!" Everyone fell silent. "I think," said Hilda, "that it would be better if she named another co-defendant and you were completely on the sidelines." "But I'm in charge." "I mean during divorce proceedings." He stared at her in amazement, and Connie didn't dare bring up her plan to take advantage of her. "I don't understand what you mean," he said. "We have a friend who can probably agree to be a co-defendant in this divorce case, so that your name will not be mentioned." Hilda said. "You mean a man?" "certainly!" "But she doesn't have another?..." He looked at Connie in amazement. "No, no!" she said hastily. "He's just an old friend, without love." "So willing to shoulder the burden of spreading the word? If he gets nothing?" "Some men are so fine that they don't care to get anything from a woman," said Hilda. "That's convenient! But who is this hero?" "He's a friend we've known since we were kids in Sugcong, an artist." "Dancan Hobbs!" he said at once, for Connie had told him about Duncan. "But what do you call his burden?" "They'll have to share some hotel, or she'll even have to go to his house." "I think that's overkill," he said. "What else can you do?" said Hilda. "If your name is mentioned, you and your divorce will be inseparable. Your woman seems to be the most difficult person." "Oh, all this!" he said gloomily. They were silent for a long time. "We might as well just settle for it," he said. "Connie just can't go," said Hilda, Clifford was too famous. " A decadent silence enveloped the three of them again. "That's the way the world is. If you want to live together safely, you've got to get married. To get married, you both have to get divorced. So how are we going to arrange that?" He was silent for a long time. "What will you arrange for us?" he said. "We're going to see if Denken is famous as a co-defendant, then we're going to get Clifford to file for a divorce, and you to have your own divorce on your part. You two must be separated until you're both free." "The world is like a madhouse." "Perhaps! But, in the eyes of the world, you are madmen—maybe more than that." "What's more?" "Criminal, I suppose." "Okay, I hope I can use my slap a few more times." He sneered, and after saying that, he was silently angry. "Okay!" he said at last, "I agree with everything, the world is a violent idiot, no one can stop it, but I will do my best, you are right, we have to try to save our own ." He looked at Connie humiliated, angry, bored, and sad. "My little man!" he said, "the world is going to add salt to your ass." "No, if we don't give in," she said. She was less emotional than he was about rebelling against the world. When trying to find out what Denken meant, he insisted on meeting the sinner hunter.He arranged for four people to have dinner at his house. Duncan was a first-class Hamlet, a little short and fat, with a dark complexion, a taciturn smile, black hair that was not curly, and he had a strange Celtic vanity. His work is just a mixture of tubes, petals, spirals and strange colors; it is ultra-modern, but there is also a certain boldness, even a certain pure form and style. Yes, repulsive, he dared not say it, because Duncan had an almost morbid opinion of his art.For him, art is a kind of personal worship, a kind of religion. They looked at the pictures in the studio, and their small brown eyes never left Mellors.He wondered what the hunter's opinion was, and he already knew Connie's and Hilda's. "那有点象纯粹的谋杀。"梅乐士终于说，这种话是旦肯所预想不到会从一个守猎人口中说出来的。 "被杀的是谁呢？"希尔达有点冷酷地嘲讽地问道。 "是我！一个人所有的恻悯心肠都被杀了。" 这话引起了艺术家的深恨。他听出那人的声调晨带着厌恶不轻蔑。而他自己是讨厌人提起什么侧悯心肠的。那是令人厌恶的情感！ 梅乐士站着，又高又瘦，态度疲惫，心不在焉，摇曳不定，仿佛飞蛾的飞舞，凝视着那些图画。 "也许是愚蠢的东西被杀了，多情的愚蠢的东西被杀了。"艺术家讥消着说。 "你觉得么？我觉得所有这些管条和起伏的颤动，才比什么都愚蠢，而且够多情了，我觉得它们表示着不少的自怜自叹的意味，和太多的神织持贩自尊自傲。" 另一阵疾恨涌上心来，那艺术家的脸都黄了。但是，他静默地、高傲地把图画向着墙壁番了过去。 "我想我们可以到餐室里去了。"他说。 他们在一种沉郁的静默中离开了画室。 咖过后，旦肯说： "我毫不介意充作康妮的孩子的父亲。但是有个条件，康妮得来作我的模特儿。这是我多年的心愿，而她是一向所拒绝的。"他说这话是抱着黑暗的决心的，好象一个宣布火刑的裁判官似的。 "啊！"梅乐士说，"那么只在这条件之下你才肯做么？" "对了！非有这条件我便不做。"旦肯的话里，故意带着对梅乐士的最轻的藐视。他带着有点太多了。 "最好是同时把我当作你的模特儿，"梅乐士说，"最好是把我们画在一起：把维娜丝和伏尔甘放在艺术的网下，我在做守猎人以前，是一个铁匠呢。" "谢谢！"艺术家说，"梅尔士的尊容不合我的胃口。" "甚至他的容貌象管条一样，而且修饰得象新郎一案，也不合尊胃么？" 艺术家没有回答他觉得回答起来未免降格了。 这次聚会就这样沉闷下去。旦肯故意不理梅乐干，他只跟两位太太谈话，而且很简短的谈话，仿佛那些字句是从他的不可思仪的忧郁的深处拔出来的一样。 "你不喜欢他，但是他并不是那么可怕，实在他来个好人呢。"当他们回去时，康妮解释着。 "他是一起伏狂乱挑战的黑狗。"梅乐士说。 "真的，他今天真是不可爱。" "你将去作模特儿么？" "啊，我现在实在再也不介意了！他不会触摸我的。如果那可以完成你我的共同生活，我什么也不介意了。" "但是他只会在画布上把你涂些粪的。""管他！他只画他对我的感情，那我是不反对的。我决不愿他触摸我，决不，但是如果他以为用他那艺术家的枭眼瞧着我有益的话，那么，让他瞧去。他只管把我画成许多空管子和阴阳起伏。那是他的不幸。他所以恨你，是因为你说他的管子艺术是多情的，自大的，但是，当然啦，那是真的。"