Mike Fletcher - George Moore (best books to read now TXT) 📗
- Author: George Moore
Book online «Mike Fletcher - George Moore (best books to read now TXT) 📗». Author George Moore
"Sit Down," He Said, "Drink Something. You Need Not Be Afraid Of Me
Now--Do As You Like, I Am Your Servant. I Will Ask Only One Thing Of
You--Forgiveness. If You Only Knew!"
"Don't Speak To Me!" She Gasped, "Don't!"
"Forgive Me, I Beseech You; I Love You Better Than All The World."
"Don't Touch Me! How Dare You? Oh! How Dare You?"
Mike Watched Her Quivering. He Saw She Was Sublime In Her Rage, And
Torn With Desire And Regret He Continued His Pleadings. It Was Some
Time Before She Spoke.
"And It Was For This," She Said, "I Left My Convent, And It Was Of
Him I Used To Dream! Oh! How Bitter Is My Awakening!"
She Grasped One Of The Thin Columns Of The Bed And Her Attitude
Bespoke The Revulsion Of Feeling That Was Passing In Her Soul;
Beneath The Heavy Curtains She Stood Pale All Over, Thrown By The
Shock Of Too Coarse A Reality. His Perception Of Her Innocence Was A
Goad To His Appetite, And His Despair Augmented At Losing Her. Now,
Chapter 2 Pg 16As Died The Fulgurant Rage That Had Supported Her, And Her Normal
Strength Being Exhausted, A Sudden Weakness Intervened, And She
Couldn't But Allow Mike To Lead Her To A Seat.
"I Am Sorry; Words Cannot Tell You How Sorry I Am. Why Do You Tremble
So? You Are Not Going To Faint, Say--Drink Something." Hastily He
Poured Out Some Wine And Held It To Her Lips. "I Never Was Sorry
Before; Now I Know What Sorrow Is--I Am Sorry, Lily. I Am Not Ashamed
Of My Tears; Look At Them, And Strive To Understand. I Never Loved
Till I Saw You. Ah! That Lily Face, When I Saw It Beneath The White
Veil, Love Leaped Into My Soul. Then I Hated Religion, And I Longed
To Scale The Sky To Dispossess Heaven Of That Which I Held The One
Sacred And Desirable Thing--You! My Soul! I Would Have Given It To
Burn For Ten Thousand Years For One Kiss, One Touch Of These
Snow-Coloured Hands. When I Saw, Or Thought I Saw, That You Loved Me,
I Was God. I Said On Reading Your Sweet Letter, 'My Life Shall Not
Pass Without Kissing At Least Once The Lips Of My Chimera.'"
Words And Images Rose In His Mind Without Sensation Or Effort, And
Experiencing The Giddiness And Exultation Of The Orator, He Strove To
Win Her With Eloquence. And All His Magnetism Was In His Hands And
Eyes--Deep Blue Eyes Full Of Fire And Light Were Fixed Upon
Her--Hands, Soft Yet Powerful Hands Held Hers, Sometimes Were
Clenched On Hers, And A Voice Which Seemed His Soul Rose And Fell,
Striving To Sting Her With Passionate Sound; But She Remained
Absorbed In, And Could Not Be Drawn Out Of, Angry Thought.
"Now You Are With Me," He Said, "Nearly Mine; Here I See You Like A
Picture That Is Mine. Around Us Is Mighty London. I Saved You From
God, Am I To Lose You To Man? This Was The Prospect That Faced Me,
That Faces Me, That Drove Me Mad. All I Did Was To Attempt To Make
You Mine. I Hold You By So Little--I Could Not Bear The Thought That
You Might Pass From Me. A Ship Sails Away, Growing Indistinct, And
Then Disappears In The Shadows; In London A Cab Rattles, Appears And
Disappears Behind Other Cabs, Turns A Corner, And Is Lost For Ever. I
Failed, But Had I Succeeded You Would Have Come Back To Me; I Failed,
Is Not That Punishment Enough? You Will Go From Me; I Shall Not Get
You--That Is Sorrow Enough For Me; Do Not Refuse Me Forgiveness. Ah!
If You Knew What It Is To Have Sought Love Passionately, The High
Hopes Entertained, And Then The Depth Of Every Deception, And Now
The Supreme Grief Of Finding Love And Losing. Seeing Love Leave Me
Without Leaving One Flying Feather For Token, I Strove To Pluck
One--That Is My Crime. Go, Since You Must Go, But Do Not Go
Unforgiving, Lest Perhaps You Might Regret."
Lily Did Not Cry. Her Indignation Was Vented In Broken Phrases, The
Meaning Of Which She Did Not Seem To Realize, And So Jarred And
Shaken Were Her Nerves That Without Being Aware Of It Her Talk
Branched Into Observations On Her Mother, Her Home Life, The Convent,
And The Disappointments Of Childhood. So Incoherently Did She Speak
That For A Moment Mike Feared Her Brain Was Affected, And His Efforts
To Lead Her To Speak Of The Present Were Fruitless. But Suddenly,
Waxing Calm, Her Inner Nature Shining Through The Eyes Like Light
Through Porcelain, She Said--
"I Was Wrong To Come Here, But I Imagined Men Different. We Know So
Little Of The World In The Convent.... Ah, I Should Have Stayed
There. It May Be But A Poor Delusion, But It Is Better Than Such
Wickedness."
"But I Love You."
"Love Me! ... You Say You Have Sought Love; We Find Love In
Contemplation And Desire Of Higher Things. I Am Wanting In
Experience, But I Know That Love Lives In Thought, And Not In Violent
Passion; I Know That A Look From The Loved One On Entering A Room,
A Touch Of A Hand At Most Will Suffice, And I Should Have Been
Satisfied To Have Seen Your Windows, And I Should Have Gone Away, My
Heart Stored With Impressions Of You, And I Should Have Been Happy
For Weeks In The Secret Possession Of Such Memories. So I Have Always
Understood Love; So We Understood Love In The Convent."
Chapter 2 Pg 17
They Were Standing Face To Face In The Faint Twilight And Scent Of
The Bedroom. Through The Gauze Blind The River Floated Past,
Decorative And Grand; The Great Hay-Boats Rose Above The Wharfs And
Steamers; One Lay In The Sun's Silver Casting A Black Shadow; A Barge
Rowed By One Man Drifted Round And Round In The Tide.
"When I Knelt In The Choir I Lifted My Heart To The Saint I Loved.
How Far Was He From Me? Millions Of Miles!--And Yet He Was Very Near.
I Dreamed Of Meeting Him In Heaven, Of Seeing Him Come Robed In White
With A Palm In His Hand, And Then In A Little Darkness And Dimness I
Felt Him Take Me To His Breast. I Loved To Read Of The Miracles He
Performed, And One Night I Dreamed I Saw Him In My Cell--Or Was It
You?"
All Anger Was Gone From Her Face, And It Reflected The Play Of Her
Fancy. "I Used To Pray To You To Come Down And Speak To Me."
"And Now," Said Mike, Smiling, "Now That I Have Come To You, Now That
I Call You, Now That I Hold My Arms To You--You The Bride-Elect--Now
That The Hour Has Come, Shall I Not Possess You?"
"Do You Think You Can Gain Love By Clasping Me To Your Bosom? My
Love, Though Separated From Me By A Million Miles, Is Nearer To Me
Than Yours Has Ever Been."
"Did You Not Speak Of Me As The Lover Of Your Prayer, And You Said
That In Ecstasy The Nuns--And Indeed It Must Be So--Exchange A
Gibbeted Saint For Some Ideal Man? Give Yourself; Make This Afternoon
Memorable."
"No; Good-Bye! Remember Your Promises. Come; I Am Going."
"I Must Not Lose You," He Cried, Drunk With Her Beauty And Doubly
Drunk With Her Sensuous Idealism. "May I Not Even Kiss You?"
"Well, If You Like--Once, Just Here," She Said, Pointing Where White
Melted To Faint Rose.
Mastered, He Followed Her Down The Long Stairs; But When They Passed
Into The Open Air He Felt He Had Lost Her Irrevocably. The River Was
Now Tinted With Setting Light, The Balustrade Of Waterloo Bridge
Showed Like Lace-Work, The Glass Roofing Of Charing Cross Station Was
Golden, And Each Spire Distinct Upon The Moveless Blue. The Splashing
Of A Steamer Sounded Strange Upon His Ears. The "Citizen" Passed! She
Was Crowded With Human Beings, All Apparently Alike. Then The Eye
Separated Them. An Old Lady Making Her Way Down The Deck, A Young Man
In Gray Clothes, A Red Soldier Leaning Over The Rail, The Captain
Walking On The Bridge.
Mike Called A Hansom; A Few Seconds More And She Would Pass From Him
Into London. He Saw The Horse's Hooves, Saw The Cab Appear And
Disappear Behind Other Cabs; It Turned A Corner, And She Was Gone.
Chapter 3 Pg 18
Seven Hours Had Elapsed Since He Had Parted From Lily Young, And
These Seven Hours He Had Spent In Restaurants And Music-Halls,
Seeking In Dissipation Surcease Of Sorrow And Disappointment. He Had
Dined At Lubi's, And Had Gone On With Lord Muchross And Lord Snowdown
To The Royal, And They Had Returned In Many Hansoms And With Many
Courtesans To Drink At Lubi's. But His Heart Was Not In Gaiety, And
Feeling He Could Neither Break A Hat Joyously Nor Allow His Own To Be
Broken Good-Humouredly, Nor Even Sympathize With Dicky, The Driver,
Who Had Not Been Sober Since Monday, He Turned And Left The Place.
"This Is Why Fellows Marry," He Said, When He Returned Home, And Sat
Smoking In The Shadows--He Had Lighted Only One Lamp--Depressed By
The Loneliness Of The Apartment. And More Than An Hour Passed Before
He Heard Frank's Steps. Frank Was In Evening Dress; He Opened His
Cigarette-Case, Lighted A Cigarette, And Sat Down Willing To Be
Amused. Mike Told Him The Entire Story With Gestures And Descriptive
Touches; On The Right Was The Bed With Its Curtains Hanging Superbly,
On The Left The Great Hay-Boats Filling The Window; And By Insisting
On The Cruelest Aspects, He Succeeded In Rendering It Almost
Unbearable. But Frank Had Dined Well, And As Lizzie Had Promised
To Come To Breakfast He Was In Excellent Humour, And On The Whole
Relished The Tale. He Was Duly Impressed And Interested By The
Subtlety Of The Fancy Which Made Lily Tell How She Used To Identify
Her Ideal Lover While Praying To Him, Him With The Human Ideal Which
Had Led Her From The Cloister, And Which She Had Come To Seek In The
World. He Was Especially Struck With, And He Admired The Conclusion
Of, The Story, For Mike Had Invented A Dramatic And Effective Ending.
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