the game-第3部分

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handsome；　and　that　term；　too；　displeased　her。　　But　whatever　it　was；

he　was　good　to　see；　and　she　was　irritably　aware　of　a　desire　to　look

at　him　again　and　again。



As　for　Joe；　he　had　never　seen　anything　like　this　girl　across　the

counter。　　While　he　was　wiser　in　natural　philosophy　than　she；　and

could　have　given　immediately　the　reason　for　woman's　existence　on　the

earth；　nevertheless　woman　had　no　part　in　his　cosmos。　　His

imagination　was　as　untouched　by　woman　as　the　girl's　was　by　man。　　But

his　imagination　was　touched　now；　and　the　woman　was　Genevieve。　　He

had　never　dreamed　a　girl　could　be　so　beautiful；　and　he　could　not

keep　his　eyes　from　her　face。　　Yet　every　time　he　looked　at　her；　and

her　eyes　met　his；　he　felt　painful　embarrassment；　and　would　have

looked　away　had　not　her　eyes　dropped　so　quickly。



But　when；　at　last；　she　slowly　lifted　her　eyes　and　held　their　gaze

steadily；　it　was　his　own　eyes　that　dropped；　his　own　cheek　that

mantled　red。　　She　was　much　less　embarrassed　than　he；　while　she

betrayed　her　embarrassment　not　at　all。　　She　was　aware　of　a　flutter

within；　such　as　she　had　never　known　before；　but　in　no　way　did　it

disturb　her　outward　serenity。　　Joe；　on　the　contrary；　was　obviously

awkward　and　delightfully　miserable。



Neither　knew　love；　and　all　that　either　was　aware　was　an　overwhelming

desire　to　look　at　the　other。　　Both　had　been　troubled　and　roused；　and

they　were　drawing　together　with　the　sharpness　and　imperativeness　of

uniting　elements。　　He　toyed　with　his　spoon；　and　flushed　his

embarrassment　over　his　soda；　but　lingered　on；　and　she　spoke　softly；

dropped　her　eyes；　and　wove　her　witchery　about　him。



But　he　could　not　linger　forever　over　a　glass　of　ice…cream　soda；

while　he　did　not　dare　ask　for　a　second　glass。　　So　he　left　her　to

remain　in　the　shop　in　a　waking　trance；　and　went　away　himself　down

the　street　like　a　somnambulist。　　Genevieve　dreamed　through　the

afternoon　and　knew　that　she　was　in　love。　　Not　so　with　Joe。　　He　knew

only　that　he　wanted　to　look　at　her　again；　to　see　her　face。　　His

thoughts　did　not　get　beyond　this；　and　besides；　it　was　scarcely　a

thought；　being　more　a　dim　and　inarticulate　desire。



The　urge　of　this　desire　he　could　not　escape。　　Day　after　day　it

worried　him；　and　the　candy　shop　and　the　girl　behind　the　counter

continually　obtruded　themselves。　　He　fought　off　the　desire。　　He　was

afraid　and　ashamed　to　go　back　to　the　candy　shop。　　He　solaced　his

fear　with；　〃I　ain't　a　ladies'　man。〃　　Not　once；　nor　twice；　but　scores

of　times；　he　muttered　the　thought　to　himself；　but　it　did　no　good。

And　by　the　middle　of　the　week；　in　the　evening；　after　work；　he　came

into　the　shop。　　He　tried　to　come　in　carelessly　and　casually；　but　his

whole　carriage　advertised　the　strong　effort　of　will　that　compelled

his　legs　to　carry　his　reluctant　body　thither。　　Also；　he　was　shy；　and

awkwarder　than　ever。　　Genevieve；　on　the　contrary；　was　serener　than

ever；　though　fluttering　most　alarmingly　within。　　He　was　incapable　of

speech；　mumbled　his　order；　looked　anxiously　at　the　clock；　despatched

his　ice…cream　soda　in　tremendous　haste；　and　was　gone。



She　was　ready　to　weep　with　vexation。　　Such　meagre　reward　for　four

days'　waiting；　and　assuming　all　the　time　that　she　loved！　　He　was　a

nice　boy　and　all　that；　she　knew；　but　he　needn't　have　been　in　so

disgraceful　a　hurry。　　But　Joe　had　not　reached　the　corner　before　he

wanted　to　be　back　with　her　again。　　He　just　wanted　to　look　at　her。

He　had　no　thought　that　it　was　love。　　Love？　　That　was　when　young

fellows　and　girls　walked　out　together。　　As　for　himAnd　then　his

desire　took　sharper　shape；　and　he　discovered　that　that　was　the　very

thing　he　wanted　her　to　do。　　He　wanted　to　see　her；　to　look　at　her；

and　well　could　he　do　all　this　if　she　but　walked　out　with　him。　　Then

that　was　why　the　young　fellows　and　girls　walked　out　together；　he

mused；　as　the　week…end　drew　near。　　He　had　remotely　considered　this

walking　out　to　be　a　mere　form　or　observance　preliminary　to

matrimony。　　Now　he　saw　the　deeper　wisdom　in　it；　wanted　it　himself；

and　concluded　therefrom　that　he　was　in　love。



Both　were　now　of　the　same　mind；　and　there　could　be　but　the　one

ending；　and　it　was　the　mild　nine　days'　wonder　of　Genevieve's

neighborhood　when　she　and　Joe　walked　out　together。



Both　were　blessed　with　an　avarice　of　speech；　and　because　of　it　their

courtship　was　a　long　one。　　As　he　expressed　himself　in　action；　she

expressed　herself　in　repose　and　control；　and　by　the　love…light　in

her　eyesthough　this　latter　she　would　have　suppressed　in　all　maiden

modesty　had　she　been　conscious　of　the　speech　her　heart　printed　so

plainly　there。　　〃Dear〃　and　〃darling〃　were　too　terribly　intimate　for

them　to　achieve　quickly；　and；　unlike　most　mating　couples；　they　did

not　overwork　the　love…words。　　For　a　long　time　they　were　content　to

walk　together　in　the　evenings；　or　to　sit　side　by　side　on　a　bench　in

the　park；　neither　uttering　a　word　for　an　hour　at　a　time；　merely

gazing　into　each　other's　eyes；　too　faintly　luminous　in　the　starshine

to　be　a　cause　for　self…consciousness　and　embarrassment。



He　was　as　chivalrous　and　delicate　in　his　attention　as　any　knight　to

his　lady。　　When　they　walked　along　the　street；　he　was　careful　to　be

on　the　outside；somewhere　he　had　heard　that　this　was　the　proper

thing　to　do；and　when　a　crossing　to　the　opposite　side　of　the　street

put　him　on　the　inside；　he　swiftly　side…stepped　behind　her　to　gain

the　outside　again。　　He　carried　her　parcels　for　her；　and　once；　when

rain　threatened；　her　umbrella。　　He　had　never　heard　of　the　custom　of

sending　flowers　to　one's　lady…love；　so　he　sent　Genevieve　fruit

instead。　　There　was　utility　in　fruit。　　It　was　good　to　eat。　　Flowers

never　entered　his　mind；　until；　one　day；　he　noticed　a　pale　rose　in

her　hair。　　It　drew　his　gaze　again　and　again。　　It　was　HER　hair；

therefore　the　presence　of　the　flower　interested　him。　　Again；　it

interested　him　because　SHE　had　chosen　to　put　it　there。　　For　these

reasons　he　was　led　to　observe　the　rose　more　closely。　　He　discovered

that　the　effect　in　itself　was　beautiful；　and　it　fascinated　him。　　His

ingenuous　delight　in　it　was　a　delight　to　her；　and　a　new　and　mutual

love…thrill　was　theirsbecause　of　a　flower。　　Straightway　he　became

a　lover　of　flowers。　　Also；　he　became　an　inventor　in　gallantry。　　He

sent　her　a　bunch　of　violets。　　The　idea　was　his　own。　　He　had　never

heard　of　a　man　sending　flowers　to　a　woman。　　Flowers　were　used　for

decorative　purposes；　also　for　funerals。　　He　sent　Genevieve　flowers

nearly　every　day；　and　so　far　as　he　was　concerned　the　idea　was

original；　as　positive　an　invention　as　ever　arose　in　the　mind　of　man。



He　was　tremulous　in　his　devotion　to　heras　tremulous　as　was　she　in

her　reception　of　him。　　She　was　all　that　was　pure　and　good；　a　holy　of

holies　not　lightly　to　be　profaned　even　by　what　might　possibly　be　the

too　ardent　reverence　of　a　devotee。　　She　was　a　being　wholly　different

from　any　he　had　ever　known。　　She　was　not　as　other　girls。　　It　never

entered　his　head　that　she　was　of　the　same　clay　as　his　own　sisters；

or　anybody's　sister。　　She　was　more　than　mere　girl；　than　mere　woman。

She　waswell；　she　was　Genevieve；　a　being　of　a　class　by　herself；

nothing　less　than　a　miracle　of　creation。



And　for　her；　in　turn；　there　was　in　him　but　little　less　of　illusion。

Her　judgment　of　him　in　minor　things　might　be　critical　（while　his

judgment　of　her　was　sheer　worship；　and　had　in　it　nothing　critical　at

all）；　but　in　her　judgment　of　him　as　a　whole　she　forgot　the　sum　of

the　parts；　and　knew　him　only　as　a　creature　of　wonder；　who　gave

meaning　to　life；　and　for　whom　she　could　die　as　willingly　as　she

could　live。　　She　often　beguiled　her　waking　dreams　of　him　with

fancied　situations；　wherein；　dying　for　him；　she　at　last　adequately

expressed　the　love　she　felt　for　him；　and　which；　living；　she　knew　she

could　never　fully　express。



Their　love　was　all　fire　and　dew。　　The　physical　scarcely　entered　into

it；　for　such　seemed　profanation。　　The　ultimate　physical　facts　of

their　relation　were　something　which　they　never　considered。　　Yet　the

immediate　physical　facts　they　knew；　the　immediate　yearnings　and

raptures　of　the　fleshthe　touch　of　finger　tips　on　hand　or　arm；　the

momentary　pressure　of　a　hand…clasp；　the　rare　lip…caress　of　a　kiss；

the　tingling　thrill　of　her　hair　upon　his　cheek；　of　her　hand　lightly

thrusting　back　the　locks　from　above　his　eyes。　　All　this　they　knew；

but　also；　and　they　knew　not　why；　there　seemed　a　hint　of　sin　about

these　caresses　and　sweet　bodily　contacts。



There　were　times　when　she　felt　impelled　to　throw　her　arms　around　him

in　a　very　abandonment　of　love；　but　always　some　sanctity　restrained

her。　　At　such　moments　she　was　distinctly　and　unpleasantly　aware　of

some　unguessed　sin　that　lurked　within　her。　　It　was　wrong；

undoubtedly　wrong；　that　she　should　wish　to　caress　her　lover　in　so

unbecoming　a　fashion。　　No　self…respecting　girl　could　dream　of　doing

such　a　thing。　　It　was　unwomanly。　　Besides；　if　she　had　done　it；　what

would　he　have　thought　of　it？　　And　while　she　contemplated　so　horrible

a　catastrophe；　she　seemed　to　shrivel　and　wilt　in　a　furnace　of　secret

shame。



Nor　did　Joe　escape　the　prick　of　curious　desires；　chiefest　among

which；　perhaps；　was　the　desire　to　hurt　Genevieve。　　When；　after　long

and　tortuous　degrees；　he　had　achieved　the　bliss　of　putting　his　arm

round　her　waist；　he　felt　spasmodic　impulses　to　make　the　embrace

crushing；　till　she　should　cry　out　with　the　hurt。　　It　was　not　his

nature　to　wish　to　hurt　any　living　thing。　　Even　in　the　ring；　to　hurt

was　never　the　intention　of　any　blow　he　struck。　　In　such　case　he

played　the　Game；　and　the　goal　of　the　Game　was　to　down　an　antagonist

and　keep　that　antagonist　down　for　a　space　of　ten　seconds。　　So　he

never　struck　merely　to　hurt；　the　hurt　was　incidental　to　the　end；　and

the　end　was　quite　another　matter。　　And　yet　here；　with　this　girl　he

loved；　came　the　desire　to　hurt。　　Why；　when　with　thumb　and　forefinger

he　had　ringed　her　wrist；　he　should　desire　to　contract　that　ring　till

it　crushed；　w