"Olaf Stapledon - A Man Divided" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stapledon Olaf)

inefficient manager, for he had to re-arrange almost everything that I had undertaken. I knew, of course, that in one of his moods
he had sometimes an almost obsessive passion for correctness, but I had been surprised and exasperated by his meticulous
scrutiny of every detail of our clothing and of the time- table of the honeymoon tour.

At the church, Victor's erect and perfectly tailored figure had seemed the very pattern of orthodoxy; and Edith, I am sure, must
have been admired by the whole congregation as the ideal bride, so "radiant" was she (yes, that is the fatally right word), and so
expensively adorned.

I remember I was rather surprised when the bridegroom suddenly scratched his head, as though in perplexity, and began looking
about him in a frank, inquisitive manner that seemed out of keeping with the occasion. And perhaps it was not quite seemly
suddenly to turn his face full upon the lovely creature at his side; but everyone must have readily forgiven him, since his
expression suggested great tenderness. I remember noticing that his eyelids, normally inclined to droop, so that his face wore the
drowsy look of a lion in captivity, were now fully raised. His blue eyes gazed with a vitality--yes, and a warmth of feeling--which
I had never before seen in them. "Such," I thought, "is the power of love." But the words had scarcely formed themselves in my
mind, when Victor cut into the rector's solemn recitative in a voice that was unusually gentle but also unusually decisive. "Edith,"
he said, "we mustn't go on with this. I've-I've just waked up, and I see quite clearly that I am not the one for you, nor you for me."

For a moment, silence. The bride stared at the bridegroom like a startled hind, then let herself be hurried away on her father's arm.
Victor, protesting his contrition, and offering to explain himself, followed the outraged bridal party into the vestry, with me upon
his heels, and behind me his own distressed father.




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A Man Divided




When the door was shut, the bride's father turned on Victor with indignation, spluttering of breach of promise. Her mother
attempted to console her. Edith herself was very properly in tears; but also, through streaming eyes, she stared at Victor with such
an expression of fascinated terror that I looked to see what could have caused it. Certainly it seemed a new Victor that took
charge of this very awkward situation. Except for the fact that he sometimes tugged at his collar and mopped the sweat from his
face, he behaved with complete composure. He looked from one to the other of us all with a curious intensity and exhilaration,
almost as though it was we that had changed, and he must size us up afresh. Presently in a tone of authority that silenced the rest
of us he said, "Listen to me for a minute! I know I can't ever put things right after the mess I have made, but I'll do whatever I
can. Anyhow, I must try to explain. Standing there in these damned silly clothes and listening to the rector, I--well, as I said, I
just woke up from a sort of dream. I saw Edith and me as we really are, me a young snob without a mind, and Edith--well, she's
good to look at, very" (he smiled ruefully at her), "and what's more, underneath all the conventional trappings of her mind there's
something sensitive and honest; yes, and much too good for me, for that drowsy snob. In my dream-life I really did think I was in
love with her, but I wasn't really, even then, and I'm certainly not now." He was watching Edith, and an expression of pain passed
over his face as he said, "God! What a mess! Edith, I know I have hurt you horribly, but I have saved you from something far
worse, from marrying that somnambulant snob."

No one had supposed Victor capable of talking like this. Or no one but myself. To me, though the whole incident had of course
been very surprising, it had not seemed entirely out of keeping with certain events in the past; particularly so, when Victor turned
from Edith to me with a special smile. It was a twisted smile, half quizzical but wholly amiable, which in the old days I had learnt
to regard as revealing the true Victor, but had lately missed. The smile faded into a grave and steady gaze, while he said to the
company, "Harry, here, perhaps knows what I mean, partly." This remark turned the attention of the three parents upon me, and I