Chapter 16 Chapter Ten (Part 2)

Meggie put on her dark rose dress, she had nothing else to wear; it never occurred to her to spend some of the money that Father Ralph had in the bank in her name for a few dresses for the banquet and ball. .To this day, she was still trying to turn down invitations, because men like Enoch Davis and Alastair McQueen were flippantly discouraged at the first word "no."They don't have the boldness of Luke O'Neill. But, as she stared at herself in the mirror, she was thinking that next week when her mother was on her usual trip to Gilly, she should go and find old Gert and ask her to help with a few A new top.

She hated the outfit; if she had another suit that even remotely fitted her, she would take it off right away.Before, it was a different dark-haired man; the dress had an indissoluble bond with her love and dreams, tears and loneliness, and it seemed a kind of kindness to wear it for someone like Luke O'Neill. Blasphemy.She had grown accustomed to disguising her feelings, always with a poise and a surface of joy.Outward self-control becomes thicker than the bark on a tree.Sometimes, in the dead of night, she would think of her mother and tremble deeply. Will she one day become like her mother, cut off from all affection?Did it start with Mom when Frank's dad was around?What would Mom do, what would she say, if she knew that Meggie had learned the truth about Frank?Daddy and Frank were face to face, and Ralph, holding her, was heartbroken.Horrible things were shouted at him to speak out.Everything fell into place.Whatever she knew, Meggie thought, she would know.She had grown up enough to realize that having children was not as simple as she usually imagined; some kind of physical contact between anyone other than a married couple was strictly off-limits.What a shame poor mother had done for Frank.No wonder she is so different.If this had happened to her, Meggie thought, she would have thought of dying.In books, only the lowest and meanest girls have children without marriage.Meggie wished sincerely that her mother would tell her about it.Or she herself had the courage to pick up the subject.Perhaps, in some trivial way, she could still help.However, my mother is the kind of person who neither wants people to approach her nor does she approach others.Meggie sighed at her own reflection in the mirror, hoping that that would never happen to her.

However, she was in her cardamom age, and when she gazed at her own figure in a dark rose dress, she wanted to experience emotion, and she wanted passion to blow through her body like a strong hot wind.She didn't want to spend her life in dreary toil like a little robot.She wants change, vitality, and love.She needs love, a husband and children.What was the use of chasing after a man she would never have?He doesn't want her, never will.want her.He had said that he loved her, but not as a husband would love her.Because he has committed himself to the church.Are all men like that, loving something inanimate more than a woman?No, certainly not all men are like that.Maybe, it's just men who are not easy to get along with.That's what complex men are full of doubts and always have objections to.But there are simpler men, men who love one woman more than any other.For example, men like Luke and O'Neal.

"I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," Luke said as he started the Rolls. Meggie didn't know much about compliments; she gave him a sideways look in surprise.said nothing. "Isn't that nice?" Luke asked, clearly not bothered by her lack of initiative. "Just a turn of the key, a push of a button on the dashboard, and the car goes. Before one burns out. Not looking for a title or that damn stupid benefit. That's life, Meghan, there's no doubt about it." "You're not going to leave me alone. Are you?" "Jesus, no! You're coming with me, aren't you? That means you're mine for one night, and I'm not going to give anyone a chance."

"How old are you, Luke?" "30. How old are you?" "It's almost 23." "How big is it? You look like a child." "I'm not a child anymore." "Whoa! So, are you talking about love?" "once" "That's all? At 23? My God! I've been in and out of love a dozen times when I was your age." "I daresay I would have been, but I rarely met anyone in Drogheda who I could have a relationship with. You were the first stockman I can remember who met more than just a shy hello." ." "Well, if you don't want to dance because you can't dance, then you're just standing outside and looking in, right? Never mind, we'll fix that soon. At the end of the evening, You'll be dancing, and in a few weeks we'll be treating you like an A-list." He glanced at her quickly. "You won't tell me, though, that the ranchers on the other ranches don't try to get you to go to their fancy balls with them. I can understand the stockmen, and you're a step above the common stockmen, But some ranchers must have looked at you?"

"Why did you invite me if I'm above the shepherds?" She evaded answering. "Oh, I've been all over the world," he grinned, showing his teeth. "Hey, don't change the subject. There must be a few guys around Kiri who invited you." "A few," she admitted. "No, I really don't want to go at all. You brought me here by force." "So the rest of the people are dumber than these lovely hooligans," he said. "When I understand the situation, I have a good idea." She wasn't quite sure she liked the way he talked, but the trouble with Luke was that he was a stubborn guy who never gave in.

Everyone's going to the shearing shed dance.From cattlemen's sons and daughters to stockmen and their wives, if they had any; from housemaids to nursemaids, and townspeople of all ages, men and women, for example, as schoolgirls looking for opportunities to work with livestock and pastures The dance was convenient for the agent's boy, the bank's dandy, and the real bush-dwellers who didn't belong to the ranch. The polite demeanor appropriate for formal occasions is simply absent here.Old Mickey O'Brien came down from Killy to play the fiddle.There are always people who alternate between the piano and button accordion players.They played for old Mickey.Meanwhile, the old fiddler sat on a bucket or wool bag and played for hours at a stretch.His drooping lower lip was drooling because he was impatient to slobber, which hindered the speed of his music.

But the dance here wasn't the kind Meggie had seen at Mary Carson's birthday party.It's a lively circle dance: the barn dance, the jig.The polka, the Guadeliard, the pas de deux, the mazurka, the Roger de Coverlis shun—a dance that was nothing more than a hasty clap of the hands of a partner.Or casually linking arms and twirling wildly.There is nothing overly intimate here, nor is there anything soft and gentle.Everyone seemed to regard every gesture as a failed courtship; romantic intrigues ran far away, away from the noise and noise. ①An old-style four-couple dance. -- Annotation

②A light and lively Polish dance. -- Annotation It didn't take long for Meggie to find herself greatly envious of her handsome companion.Many provocative or affectionate looks were directed at him almost as they had been at Father Ralph before, and more than that.Just like Father Ralph used to be.Just like before.It was horrible to have to think of him in this terribly distant past tense. Luke meant what he said and only left her alone when he was going to the bathroom.Enoch Davis and Liam O'Rourke were here too, eager to fill his place next to her.He didn't give them any chance.Meggie herself seemed dazzled by the idea that it was entirely her right to accept invitations from men other than him.Although she didn't hear the whispered, mocking comments, Luke did.This guy is really shameless, an ordinary shepherd, actually hooked her under their noses!Luke didn't care about the bitterness at all.They had opportunities, and it would be their fault if they hadn't made the most of them.

The last dance is the waltz.Luke took Meggie's hand, wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her against his body.He's an excellent dance partner.She was amazed to find that she didn't have to exert much effort and just walked in the direction he pushed.Moreover, being hugged like this, clinging to a man, being able to feel the muscles of his chest and thighs, absorbing the warmth of his body, gave her an extraordinary feeling.That brief encounter with Father Ralph had made such an impression on her that she hadn't had time to appreciate the fragmentary things; Will learn from others again.However, although it felt a bit different this time, it was excitement; her heart beat faster, and, from the way he suddenly spun her around, held her tighter, and pressed his cheek against her hair , she understood that he was also aware of this.

The engine of the Rolls car drove home with a low rumble, and the headlights illuminated the rough road, making everything on the feet clear and clear.They said nothing.Brian y Poole was seventy miles from Drogheda, through paddocks, without a house or light in sight, and without a trace.The highlands across Drogheda rise only 100 feet above the rest of the ground, but reaching the top of the sky on the black-soil plain is like reaching the summit of a mountain in Switzerland.Luke stopped the car, got out, walked around the car, and opened the door next to Meggie.She got out of the car.Standing beside him, trembling a little; did he want to kiss her desperately?It's very quiet and far away from anyone! At one of them, there was a fence of rotten wood winding away.As Luke held her arm lightly, lest she trip in those fancy shoes, he helped her across the dusty ground and down the rabbit hole in it.Without saying a word, she clutched the railing tightly and looked out over the plain.At first she was terrified, then, as he remained motionless and did not touch her, she ceased to be confused and became bewildered. Almost as if in sunlight, everything was clearly visible.The quiet, light moonlight illuminates the vast, unobstructed distance.There was a low rustling sound from the shimmering grass, like a low sigh that would not stop.There are flashes of silver, white and gray on the grassland.When the wind blows up the moonlit canopy, the leaves flicker like sparks; the woods cast shadows on the ground with countless light spots and dark shadows, mysterious, like openings in hell. talkative.She raised her head and wanted to count the stars in the sky, but she couldn't count them; the starry sky was like a spinning spider web covered with fine dewdrops, and these small dots were flashing and disappearing; The orderly flickering is like the eternal God, but Wan is unchangingly flickering.They seemed to form a net, hanging high above her head, so beautiful and moving, so peaceful and silent, exploring people's souls with insight.When the starlight flashes, it becomes crystal clear like the jewel-like eyes of insects under the spotlight; when the starlight goes out, it closes the eyes as if expressive, and the star head is empty, possessing shocking power.The only sounds were the rustling of the woods in the heat of the prairie, the occasional clang of a dead Rolls, and the whine of a nest of sleeping birds from somewhere—because they disturbed its sleep. Rest; the only smell is the rich mistletoe of the undergrowth. Luke turned in the dark, pulled out his cigarette pouch and a stack of rolling papers, and started rolling. "Meghan, where were you born?" he asked, rolling a few tobacco leaves lazily back and forth with his heels. "No, I was born in New Zealand. Came to Drogheda 13 years ago." He poured the finished tobacco into the paper tube, twisted it between his thumb and forefinger, then licked it well, poked a few shreds of tobacco exposed from the ignition end, and struck a match. The cigarette was lit. "You're having a good time tonight, aren't you?" "Oh yes!" "I'd like to take you to all the dances." "Thank you." He was silent again, smoking quietly.He turned his head and looked over the roof of Rolls' car at the woods. The angry bird was still whining and chirping.When there was only one butt left of the crackling cigarette between her fingers, he dropped it on the ground and waited until it burned out, no one smoked so cleanly as the Australian bushmen. Meggie sighed and turned away from the moonscape.He helped her walk to the car.He was very wise not to kiss her at this initial stage, because he intended, if possible, to take her, and let her begin the idea of ​​kissing him. The summer wore on, and there were several more dances; and the house grew accustomed to the fact that Meggie had found herself a very handsome beau.Her brothers avoid teasing her because they love her and like her a lot.Luke O'Neill is the hardest worker they've ever hired; there's no better proof of that.In essence, the Cleary man was more of a working class than a rancher; they never saw him in terms of his lack of property.Fei may have made more choices and trade-offs for him, so she didn't have the energy to pay more attention to this matter.At any rate, Luke's quiet conceit produced and had the effect of making him stand out from the average stockman: for just so they treated him more as one of their own. It had become his habit to come and go in and out of the road to the house at night, and when he was not in the paddock.After a while Bob declared that it would be foolish for him to eat alone at the Cleary table with so many people eating.So he ate with them.Afterwards it was unwise to make him walk a mile to sleep when he would have liked to stay and have a long talk with Meggie; so he ordered and moved into a guest room at the back of the house. Up to this point, Meggie had longed for him, instead of looking down on him as she did at the beginning, always comparing him with Father Ralph.Old wounds have healed.Soon after, what Father Ralph's mouth was smiling like that, and Luke was laughing like this, and what Father Ralph's vivid blue eyes had an apathetic stillness, while Luke's eyes were always shining with passion She had completely forgotten about such thoughts.She was young and had never tasted a very interesting love; if she had tasted it, it was only for a moment.She wanted to savor the fragrance of love in her mouth, let the fragrance permeate her heart and make her mind dizzy.Father Ralph had become Bishop Ralph; he would never, never come back to her.He betrayed her for thirteen million silver coins, which filled the heart with resentment.She would not have been puzzled if he had not used the word "betrayal" that night at the spring; but he did, and she had spent countless nights trying to figure out what he meant. . At a dance, when he held her tightly, she felt the itching of his hands against his back, and her heart was disturbed by him, his touch and vitality.Oh, it never occurred to her that she would be lost and drained if she never saw him again; she never felt a twitch and a quiver in her heart because he was looking at her.But she got to know Enoch Davis, Liam O'Rourke, and Alasir O'Rourke better as Luke graciously escorted her and increasingly participated in various activities in the area. People like McQueen.None of them could move her like Luke O'Neill.If they were tall and she had to look up to see them, they didn't have Luke's eyes; if they had his eyes, they didn't have his hair.They were always short of one thing and one short of that, and Luke had everything, though she didn't know what Luke had.Besides the fact that he had reminded her of Father Ralph, she admitted that there was something else about him that attracted her. They talked a lot, but it was always about mundane things; some shearing, or land, or sheep, or what was missing in his life, or places he'd seen or some political event.He read occasionally, but wasn't a habitual reader like Meggie, and didn't intend to read as much as she wished; nor could she seem to easily persuade him to read this or that book that she found interesting. .He neither steered the conversation toward intellectual depths, never showed any interest in her life, or asked her what was missing in it; which was most interesting and most distressing.There were times when she longed to talk about things that cared more about her than sheep or rain, but no sooner had she directed the conversation to that than he deftly shifted the conversation to non-personal matters. Luke O'Neill was smart, conceited, extremely hardworking, and able to save money on a tight stomach.He was born in a squalid, fenced-in board shed just outside Langridge, South Queensland, just on the Tropic of Capricorn.His father came from a well-to-do but strict Irish family, and he was a prodigal.His mother was Jasper from a German butcher's family in Winton; she insisted on marrying old Luke, and therefore disowned the family.There were ten children in this shed, and they didn't even have a pair of shoes--not a problem in hot Longridge.Old Luke made a living shearing sheep when he felt like it; but most of all he liked to drink Birmingham rum.The year little Luke was 12, he died in a fire at the Black Oak Hotel.So, little Luke soon started his life of shearing sheep everywhere.He was a targer; and when a shearer inadvertently sheared the flesh and wool of a sheep, he applied molten tar to the jagged wound. There was only one thing Luke never dreaded, and that was hard work; he was a master at hard work.I don't know if this is because his father was a tavern drinker and a street hustler, or because he inherited his German mother's love of hard work.No one has the patience to get to the bottom of the reason. When he grew up, he changed from being an oiled laborer to a wool shed worker.When the sheep's wool fell down and piled up into a high pile, he ran down from the table, grabbed the big and heavy wool bag, and carried it to the rolling workbench for trimming.During this period, he learned to trim the edges, pick out the wool edges that were stained on the outside, and send them to the boxes that the sub-workers are in charge of.The class worker is the tallest person in the shearing shed.He is like a wine connoisseur or a perfumer who cannot be trained by training unless he has an instinct for the job.But Luke didn't have an instinct for grade work; if he wanted to make more money, he had to be a wool press or a shearer, which he rightly wanted.He has the powers of a wool press, pressing graded wool into big, heavy bales, but a competent shearer earns more. Now, his reputation as a good worker was well known in West Queensland, so he wouldn't get into the trouble a novice got into.Grace, coordination, strength, patience, Luke had all the necessary qualities; such a man must make an efficient shearer.Soon, Luke was able to shear more than 200 sheep a day, six days a week, and earn a gold pound for more than 100 sheep.This speed is comparable to a large scissors hand machine called the Lizard.The use of these large New Zealand hand cranks with their wide, thick combs and cutters is illegal in Australia, although they make shearers exponentially more efficient. It was intense work; he held a sheep between his knees, bent his tall body, and scissors slid across the sheep, its wool like a blooming flower.He cuts the wool off whole, in seconds as much as possible, with the scissors pressed against the shaggy, curly hide, to the delight of the sheepfold master.The foreman will appear at any time after any shearer who falls short of his exacting standards.He didn't care about the heat, the sweat, the thirst that would make him drink three gallons of water a day, not even the swarms of flies that bothered people, because he was born in the country where flies swarmed .He also didn't care about the sheep that were usually a nuisance to the shearers: some were tarred, some were wet, some were huge, some were bullies, and some had dirty wool. Yes, some were covered with gray; but they were all merinos, that is to say, all but the hoofs and noses had to be sheared, a whole tarred, brittle wool. It was picked up like a layer of trembling cardboard. No, he didn't care about the work itself, the harder it was, the better he felt.What annoyed him was the noise, being locked up to work in a shed, and the stench.There is no worse place in the world than a shearing shed.So he resolved to become a cocky foreman, a man who milled around a line of hunched shearers watching his own wool being sheared with smooth, skillful movements. down. On a wicker chair at one end of the room, Sitting the foreman of the sheep shed, he rolled his eyes and looked around. That's how an old shearing song goes, and that's exactly what Luke O'Neill is determined to do.Be a swaggering foreman, be a small business owner, be a rancher, be a livestock owner.A lifetime of being a shearer with his back bent and his arms outstretched was not for him; he wanted to have a good time working in the open while watching the money roll into his pocket.Perhaps, it is precisely because of being able to become a skilled wool fryer, as a shearer who uses narrow-blade scissors, he can shear 300 Merino sheep a day.It was the few people who were completely up to standard that kept Luke in the shearing shed.In addition, they rely on gambling to make money.Unfortunately, he was a bit too tall, and it took a few extra seconds to bend over and bow his head, and it was those few seconds that made it difficult for him to stand out in this line of work. Within the confines of his mind he conjured up another means by which he could obtain what he longed for.It was around this time in his life that he found himself attractive to women.He first tried his hand at Gnaranga as a stockman.The heir to the ranch was a woman, very young and very pretty; that attempt had knocked him out of his head.She finally set her sights on a stockman, recently immigrated from England, whose brilliant success has become legend in this uncultivated woodland.He went from Gnaranga to Bingley, took a job as a horse trainer, and kept his eyes on the plain old heiress who lived with her widowed father inside and outside the estate.Poor Dot, he was very close to having her; but at last she obeyed her father's wishes and married a vigorous man of sixty.The adjoining estate was his. These attempts took him three years.He decided that twenty months on each heiress was too long and tiresome, and that a little travel would be more suitable for him.He kept walking, hoping to find a promising target in a larger area.He happily drove the cattle on the way of the cattlemen in West Queensland.He had been to Cooper and Diamantinou; to Baco and Blue Overflow in the far west of New South Wales.He is thirty years old, but he still has no clue about his chance to make money. Everyone had heard of Drogheda, but Luke's ears had only pricked up when he discovered that there was an only child there.She had no hope of inheriting, but they probably intended to give her at least a hundred thousand hectares of land near Kinnan or Winton as a dowry.It was a decent piece of land near Gilly, but it was too narrow for him, and the woods took up too much area.Luke longed for that vast expanse of land just west of Queensland.There, the prairie stretches into endless distances, and people can only vaguely remember some woods to the east of it.There was only grass, stretching and stretching endlessly, and on his land, people were lucky enough to see a sheep for every ten hectares of land they walked.Because sometimes there is no grass here, just a cracked and dry black soil wasteland.Grass, sun, heat, and flies were paradise to every one of his kind.This is the land that Luke O'Neill had in mind. He had picked up other anecdotes about Drogheda from Jimmy Strong, the AMI stockman's agent, who had driven him the first day.When he found out that the Catholic Church owned Drogheda, it was a blow in the face.He knew, however, that the number of heiresses capable of inheriting estates was few; and so, when Jimmy went on to say that the only child had a considerable sum of cash of her own, and many doting brothers, he resolved to follow the plan. Although Luke has long set his life's goal of 100,000 hectares near Xintongna or Winton, and has worked feverishly to achieve this goal, in fact, deep down in his heart, he has a deep love for reality. Jae loves the present far more than he loves what the money will eventually buy him.He was concerned neither with the title to the land nor with the right to inherit it, but with the desire to accumulate neat rows of sums in his bank account in his name.What he dreams of is not Gnaranga or Binguri, but hard currency equivalent to this.A man who really wanted to be a small boss would never be content with a landless Meggie Cleary, nor would he love hard manual work like Luke O'Neill did. The ball in the hall of the Holy Cross School was the thirteenth ball Luke had taken Meggie to in as many weeks.How he found out where they were going, and how cunningly he invited Meggie, was anyone's guess; somewhere 150 miles away. Tonight, it's cold.She is standing by a fence.Looking at a moonless landscape.At this moment, she could feel the creaking sound of the frosty ground under her feet.Winter is here.Luke put his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. "You're cold," he said. "I'd better take you home." "No, I'm fine now, I'm warmed up," she replied, holding her breath. She felt something change in him, the arms around her back became loose and emotionless.However, leaning against him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body and the different structures of his bones, was very comfortable.Even through the sweater, she could feel his hands moving slightly, drawing circles, which was a vague and tentative touch.If she said cold words at such a time, he would stop the touching; if she said nothing, he would take it as tacit approval for him to continue.She was young, and desperately wanted a taste of legitimate love.This was the only man other than Ralph who was interested in her, so why not taste his kisses?If only his kisses were different!Let his kisses be different from Ralph's. Luke took her silence to be tacit approval.He put his other hand on her shoulder, turned her face to him, and bent his head.Is this what a mouth actually feels like?Oh, it's just a kind of pressing!So, what does she think the symbol of love is?Her lips moved under his, and she immediately wished he wouldn't.He pressed down harder and harder, opening his mouth wide, forcing her lips apart with his teeth and tongue, which swung in her mouth.It's disgusting.Why does this seem so different from when Ralph kissed her?At that time, she didn't feel such a warm and slightly disgusting feeling like this time, she didn't seem to have thought of it at all.When Ralph's familiar hand touched a mysterious vitality, her mouth opened to him like a locket.But what the hell is Luke doing?When she wished to push him away in her mind, why was her body trembling like this, clinging to him tightly? Luke had found a sensitive spot on the side of her chest, and he put his fingers on it, causing her to writhe; so far, she hadn't warmed up to it.The kiss broke off and he pressed his mouth against the side of her cheek.She seemed to prefer it this way, with arms around her, panting.But as he slid his lips down to her neck, his hands tried to push her dress off her shoulders.She pushed him sharply and walked away quickly. "Enough, Luke!" That move put her off, a little disgusted, when Luke helped her into the car.And when he rolled a cigarette to quench his hunger and thirst, he was very aware of this.He had always vainly considered himself a lover, and so far no girl hadn't been happy with it--though, then again, none of them had been as big a daughter as Meggie.Even Dot MacPherson, the heiress to Bingerry, who was much richer than Meggie, was as vulgar as those ugly girls; she hadn't gone to the posh Sydney boarding school and all that nonsense.Notwithstanding his good looks, Luke was no different from the average farm laborer when it came to his experience of the sexes; he knew little of artifice and nothing of theory except what he liked.Lots of girls he's had affairs with are more than happy to assure him that they like him to that level.But this means that he has to rely on some personal knowledge, and personal knowledge is not always reliable.A girl would marry a man as adventurous and hardworking as Luke, so a girl was likely to try to please him.There's nothing that makes a man happier than telling him he's the nicest guy he's ever met.It never occurred to Luke how many men besides him had been fooled by such words. He was still thinking about old Dott.After her father locked her up for a week in a shearers shed infested with dead fly maggots, she gave in to his wishes.Luke shrugged secretly.Meggie was a nut about to crack, and it didn't pay to scare her or turn her off.Tao Ran Leshi had to stand aside, that's all.He had to woo her in the way that was evidently her pleasure, with flowers, with courtesies, without overly reckless tricks. An unpleasant silence lasted for a while, then Meggie sighed and leaned slumped on the car seat. "Sorry, Luke." "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to offend you." "Oh no, you didn't make me angry, really! I guess I'm not used to it yet... I'm afraid, not angry." "Oh, Meghan!" He took one hand off the steering wheel.Put it on her tightly hugging hands. "Hey, don't worry about that. You're a little girly, I'm moving too fast. Let's forget about it." "Well, forget it," she said. "Did he kiss you?" Luke asked curiously. "Who?" Was there fear in her voice?But why was there fear in her voice? "You said you were in love once, so I thought you knew the inside story of such things. I'm sorry, Meghan, but I should have understood that in a family like yours in a place like this, it's completely closed."目塞听，与世隔绝的。你的意思不过是说，你曾经对某个从来没有注意到你的家伙抱着一种女学生式的迷恋。" 是的，是的，是的！就让他这么想吧！"你说得很准，卢克；那不过是一种女学生式的迷恋。" 在宅邸的外面，他又把她拉到了自己的身边，给了她一个温柔的长吻，没搞张嘴伸舌头那套把戏。她一点儿反应也没有，但显然她喜欢这样；他向客房走去，对自己没有毁掉良机而感到满意。 梅吉慢腾腾地上了床，躺在那里，望着投射在天花板上的柔和的灯光。哦，有一件事已经证实了：卢克的亲吻根本就没有使她想起拉尔夫的吻。而且，在他的手指从侧面伸进衣服的时候，在他吻着她的脖子的时候，她最后有一两次感到了一种隐约令人惊惶的激动。象对待拉尔夫那样同等对待卢克是没有用的，但她无法肯定她不会再进行这样对比。最好把拉尔夫忘掉吧，他不会成为她的丈夫的，而卢克却能。 卢克第二次吻梅吉的进候，她的举动就不一样了。他们到鲁德纳·胡尼施参加了一次快活的宴会。那里是鲍勃为他们的短途旅行划下的界限的极点，这次晚会从头到尾都进行得十分愉快。卢克拿出了他的最佳风度，去的路上他讲了许多笑话，使她忍不住地一个劲儿大笑，随后，在整个宴会上都对她温情脉脉，频献殷勤。而卡迈克尔小姐下了多大决心想把他从她身边拉走啊！她走到了阿拉斯泰尔麦克奎恩和伊诺克·戴维斯不敢露面的那个地方，和卢克、梅吉纠缠不休，公然向卢克卖弄风情，迫他出于礼貌也得邀她跳一次舞。卢克和卡迈克尔小姐跳的是一曲慢三步，跳得很拘谨，完全是舞场作派。曲子一结束，他什么也没讲，只是把两眼往天花板上一瞟，使卡迈克尔小姐明白无误地觉得，对他来说，她不过是个令人厌烦的人物，随后便立即回到了梅吉的身边。这一手梅吉很喜欢。自从这位小姐在基里娱乐会上妨碍了她的愉快那天起，梅吉就讨厌她了。她永远忘不了拉尔夫神父抱起一个小女孩，跨过水坑，把这位小姐甩在一边时的那种神态，今天晚上卢克也摆出了同样的脸色。啊，妙啊！卢克，你真棒。 ! 回家的路又漫长又寒冷。卢克从老安格斯·麦克奎恩那里骗来了一包三明治和一瓶香槟。当他们走完了三分之二的路程时，他把汽车停了下来。那时和现在一样，澳大利亚的汽车里格少有安暖气的，可是这辆罗尔斯车里却有。那天夜里，这个暖气大受欢迎，因为地面上的霜花已经有两英寸厚了。 "哦，在夜里象这样不穿外套地坐着，不是很美吧？"梅吉微笑着接过了卢克递给她的那只斟满了香槟酒的银白色折叠杯，吃了一块火腿三明治。 "是呀，很美。今晚你显得真漂亮，梅格翰。" 她眼睛的颜色是什么样的呢？一般来说，他不喜欢那种灰色，太贫血了。但是，看着她那双灰色的眼睛，他敢发誓，在那蓝蓝的底色上有着各种各样的色彩：强烈的靛蓝，象晴天朗日的天空；有青苔般的深绿，还有一丝黄褐色。那对闪光的眼睛就象柔和、半透明的珠宝，周围是一圈长长的上翘的睫毛；那睫毛在闪着微光，好象在金色中浸过一般。他伸出手去，用手指轻轻地掠过她一只眼睛上的睫毛，然后一本正经地低头看着他的指尖。 "哟，卢克？怎么啦？" "我禁不住想看看在你的梳妆台上是不是放着一罐金粉。你知道吗？你是我见到过的唯一的一个睫毛上实实在在发着金色的姑娘。" "哦！"她碰了碰自己的睫毛，看着手指，笑了起来。"这么说，是真有啦！可它一点儿也不掉下来。"香槟酒呛得她鼻子发痒；胃里直往上冒气泡；她觉得快活极了。 "真正金色的睫毛，它的形状和教堂的顶一样，真正金色的绝美的头发……我总是希望它能象金属那样硬就好了，然而它却又柔软，又纤细，就象婴儿的头发……你一定在皮肤上涂了金粉，它是那样闪闪发光……而那美得无与伦比的嘴，是为了接吻才造就的……" 她坐在那里呆呆地望着他，那娇嫩的粉唇微微张开，就象他们头一次碰见时那样。他伸出手去，将她手中的空杯子拿了过来。 "我想，你还需要一点儿香槟吧。"他说着，将那杯子斟满。 "我得承认，这太美好了，停在这里，在路途上稍稍休息一下。感谢你想起向玫克奎思先生要了这些三明治和酒。" 罗尔斯的大引擎在一片静寂中轻轻地轰响着，温暖的空气几乎无声无息地从排凤孔送了进来，他俩只能听见这两种不同的、缓缓的声音。卢克解开领带，扯了下来，将衫衣的领口敞开，他们的短上衣放在后座上，汽车里太暖和了。 "啊，这样就觉得好多了！我不知道是谁发明的领带，然后一定让人们在穿正式服装时戴上一条。不过，假如我碰上他的话，我就用他的发明勒死他。" 他突然转过身去，把脸向她的脸低下去，似乎想用自己的嘴唇象片玩具拼板一样裹住她嘴唇的整个曲线；尽管他没有搂着她，或碰她身上的其他地方，但她觉得被他紧紧地吸引住了。在他向后靠去的时候，她的头也跟了过去，直到把头放到了他的胸膛上。他抬起双手捧住了她的头，这样就可以更方便地吻她那个惊讶地作出了反应的嘴，酣尝樱唇。他叹息了一声，忘情地沉湎于其中了。这孩子般的、柔软的嘴唇终于和他的嘴唇接在了一起；最后，他随便怎样吻都可以了。她的胳臂搂着他的脖颈。颤抖的手指插进了他的头发，另一只手的手掌放在他前颈下那光滑的棕色皮肤上，尽管在递给她第二杯香槟酒的时候他的情绪已经起来，并且下定了决心，但是这一次他没有着忙，只是望着她。他没有放开她的头，吻着她的面颊，吻着她那合上的眼睛，吻着她那眉毛下弯的眉额。然后，他又返回去吻她的面颊，因为那面颊光洁如玉，又返回去吻她的嘴，因为她那稚气的形状使他发狂，自从他头一次见到她的那天起，就使他如狂如痴了…… "你最好嫁给我，梅格翰，"他说道，眼睛中含着柔情和笑意。"我认为，你的哥哥根本不会同意咱们刚才干的那事的。" "是的，我也认为我最好嫁给你。"她赞同道。她的嘴唇垂了下来，两颊现出了淡淡的红晕。 "咱们明天向他们讲明吧。" "有什么不可以的呢？越快越好。" "下个星期我开车带你到基里去。我们去见托马斯神父--我想，你是愿意在教堂举行婚礼的--安排一下结婚预告，再买一只订婚戒指。" "谢谢你，卢克。 哦，事情就是这样的。她已经表了态，不呆能再挽回了。几个星期之内，或不管还要多长时间，只要在教堂里一公布结婚者的姓名以征求意见，她就将嫁给卢克·奥尼尔，她将要成为……卢克·奥尼尔太太了！多么陌生啊！她为什么要说同意呢？因为是他告诉我，我必须这样，他说过我应该这样做。可这是为什么！ ?使他脱离危险吗？为了保护他自己，或我吗？拉尔夫·德·布里克萨特啊。有时候，我觉得我恨你…… 小汽车里的那一幕让人心惊肉跳，心绪纷乱。和上一次一点儿也不一样。有许多美好而又令人惊恐的感觉。哦，他那双手的触摸！ 对于这桩新闻谁都没有感到十分意外，至于反对，连想都没想过。唯一让他们吃惊的是，梅吉斩钉截铁地拒绝把这事写信告诉拉尔夫主教。她几乎歇斯底里地拒绝了鲍勃认为他们应当邀请拉尔夫主教到德罗海达来，以及应当找个大房子举行婚礼的主意。No, no, no!她冲着他们大喊大叫，梅吉是个说话从来不提高嗓门的人呀。显然，她之所以发脾气，是因为她希望他永远不回来看他们；她的婚事是她自己的事。要是他毫无理由地到德罗海达来，因而失去了一般的礼貌的话，她就有责任不接待他，对此他是无话可说的。 于是，菲答应在她的信中只字不提此事。对事情应当这样办或是那样办，她似乎无所谓，对梅吉选择一个什么样的丈夫好象也没有兴趣。管理象德罗海达这样大的牧场占用了她的全部时间，菲的纪录就好象是一位能完完全全地描述出一个绵羊牧场生活的历史学家，因为这些纪录不仅仅是数字和分类帐。有关每一样羊移动的记述十分严格。季节的变化，每日的天气，甚至连史密斯太太每顿做的是什么饭，都记录了下来。1934年7月22日的日记记录中写着：晴，无云，清晨温度为34度。今日未做弥撒。鲍勃返回，杰克带两名牧工在莫琳巴，休吉带牧工一人在西坝，比尔巴瑞尔将三岁的羊从布金赶到温尼姆拉。3时，温度升高，为85度。气压计稳定，为30．6英寸，西风；食谱：脆小牛肉，水煮土豆，胡萝卜和白菜，及葡萄干布丁。梅格翰·克利里将于8月25日，星期六，在基兰博圣十字教堂与牧工卢克·奥尼尔先生结婚。晚9时，温度为45度，下弦月。