a death in the desert-第2部分

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miles　out　of　town；　but　my　rig's　below；　and　I　can　take　you　out



anytime　you　can　go。〃







〃I　can　go　now；　and　it　will　give　me　real　pleasure　to　do　so；〃　said



Everett；　quickly。　　〃I'll　get　my　hat　and　be　with　you　in　a　moment。〃







When　he　came　downstairs　Everett　found　a　cart　at　the　door；



and　Charley　Gaylord　drew　a　long　sigh　of　relief　as　he　gathered　up



the　reins　and　settled　back　into　his　own　element。







〃You　see；　I　think　I'd　better　tell　you　something　about　my



sister　before　you　see　her；　and　I　don't　know　just　where　to　begin。　



She　traveled　in　Europe　with　your　brother　and　his　wife；　and　sang



at　a　lot　of　his　concerts；　but　I　don't　know　just　how　much　you　know



about　her。〃







〃Very　little；　except　that　my　brother　always　thought　her　the



most　gifted　of　his　pupils；　and　that　when　I　knew　her　she　was　very



young　and　very　beautiful　and　turned　my　head　sadly　for　a　while。〃







Everett　saw　that　Gaylord's　mind　was　quite　engrossed　by　his



grief。　　He　was　wrought　up　to　the　point　where　his　reserve　and



sense　of　proportion　had　quite　left　him；　and　his　trouble　was　the



one　vital　thing　in　the　world。　　〃That's　the　whole　thing；〃　he　went



on；　flicking　his　horses　with　the　whip。







〃She　was　a　great　woman；　as　you　say；　and　she　didn't　come　of　a



great　family。　　She　had　to　fight　her　own　way　from　the　first。　　She



got　to　Chicago；　and　then　to　New　York；　and　then　to　Europe；　where



she　went　up　like　lightning；　and　got　a　taste　for　it　all；　and　now



she's　dying　here　like　a　rat　in　a　hole；　out　of　her　own　world；　and



she　can't　fall　back　into　ours。　　We've　grown　apart；　some　way



miles　and　miles　apartand　I'm　afraid　she's　fearfully　unhappy。〃







〃It's　a　very　tragic　story　that　you　are　telling　me；　Gaylord；〃



said　Everett。　　They　were　well　out　into　the　country　now；　spinning



along　over　the　dusty　plains　of　red　grass；　with　the　ragged…blue



outline　of　the　mountains　before　them。







〃Tragic！〃　cried　Gaylord；　starting　up　in　his　seat；　〃my　God；　man；



nobody　will　ever　know　how　tragic。　　It's　a　tragedy　I　live　with　and



eat　with　and　sleep　with；　until　I've　lost　my　grip　on　everything。　



You　see　she　had　made　a　good　bit　of　money；　but　she　spent　it　all



going　to　health　resorts。　　It's　her　lungs；　you　know。　　I've　got　money



enough　to　send　her　anywhere；　but　the　doctors　all　say　it's　no　use。　



She　hasn't　the　ghost　of　a　chance。　　It's　just　getting　through　the



days　now。　　I　had　no　notion　she　was　half　so　bad　before　she　came　to



me。　　She　just　wrote　that　she　was　all　run　down。　　Now　that　she's



here；　I　think　she'd　be　happier　anywhere　under　the　sun；　but　she



won't　leave。　　She　says　it's　easier　to　let　go　of　life　here；　and　that



to　go　East　would　be　dying　twice。　　There　was　a　time　when　I　was　a



brakeman　with　a　run　out　of　Bird　City；　Iowa；　and　she　was　a　little



thing　I　could　carry　on　my　shoulder；　when　I　could　get　her　everything



on　earth　she　wanted；　and　she　hadn't　a　wish　my　80　a　month　didn't



cover；　and　now；　when　I've　got　a　little　property　together；　I　can't



buy　her　a　night's　sleep！〃







Everett　saw　that；　whatever　Charley　Gaylord's　present　status



in　the　world　might　be；　he　had　brought　the　brakeman's　heart　up　the



ladder　with　him；　and　the　brakeman's　frank　avowal　of　sentiment。　



Presently　Gaylord　went　on：







〃You　can　understand　how　she　has　outgrown　her　family。　　We're



all　a　pretty　common　sort；　railroaders　from　away　back。　　My　father



was　a　conductor。　　He　died　when　we　were　kids。　　Maggie；　my　other



sister；　who　lives　with　me；　was　a　telegraph　operator　here　while　I



was　getting　my　grip　on　things。　　We　had　no　education　to　speak　of。　



I　have　to　hire　a　stenographer　because　I　can't　spell　straightthe



Almighty　couldn't　teach　me　to　spell。　　The　things　that　make　up



life　to　Kate　are　all　Greek　to　me；　and　there's　scarcely　a　point



where　we　touch　any　more；　except　in　our　recollections　of　the　old



times　when　we　were　all　young　and　happy　together；　and　Kate　sang　in



a　church　choir　in　Bird　City。　　But　I　believe；　Mr。　Hilgarde；　that



if　she　can　see　just　one　person　like　you；　who　knows　about　the



things　and　people　she's　interested　in；　it　will　give　her　about　the



only　comfort　she　can　have　now。〃







The　reins　slackened　in　Charley　Gaylord's　hand　as　they　drew



up　before　a　showily　painted　house　with　many　gables　and　a　round



tower。　　〃Here　we　are；〃　he　said；　turning　to　Everett；　〃and　I　guess



we　understand　each　other。〃







They　were　met　at　the　door　by　a　thin；　colorless　woman；　whom



Gaylord　introduced　as　〃my　sister；　Maggie。〃　　She　asked　her　brother



to　show　Mr。　Hilgarde　into　the　music　room；　where　Katharine　wished



to　see　him　alone。







When　Everett　entered　the　music　room　he　gave　a　little　start



of　surprise；　feeling　that　he　had　stepped　from　the　glaring　Wyoming



sunlight　into　some　New　York　studio　that　he　had　always　known。　　He



wondered　which　it　was　of　those　countless　studios；　high　up　under



the　roofs；　over　banks　and　shops　and　wholesale　houses；　that　this



room　resembled；　and　he　looked　incredulously　out　of　the　window　at



the　gray　plain　that　ended　in　the　great　upheaval　of　the　Rockies。







The　haunting　air　of　familiarity　about　the　room　perplexed



him。　　Was　it　a　copy　of　some　particular　studio　he　knew；　or　was　it



merely　the　studio　atmosphere　that　seemed　so　individual　and



poignantly　reminiscent　here　in　Wyoming？　　He　sat　down　in　a　reading



chair　and　looked　keenly　about　him。　　Suddenly　his　eye　fell　upon　a



large　photograph　of　his　brother　above　the　piano。　　Then　it　all



became　clear　to　him：　this　was　veritably　his　brother's　room。　　If



it　were　not　an　exact　copy　of　one　of　the　many　studios　that



Adriance　had　fitted　up　in　various　parts　of　the　world；　wearying　of



them　and　leaving　almost　before　the　renovator's　varnish　had　dried；



it　was　at　least　in　the　same　tone。　　In　every　detail　Adriance's



taste　was　so　manifest　that　the　room　seemed　to　exhale　his



personality。







Among　the　photographs　on　the　wall　there　was　one　of　Katharine



Gaylord；　taken　in　the　days　when　Everett　had　known　her；　and　when



the　flash　of　her　eye　or　the　flutter　of　her　skirt　was　enough　to



set　his　boyish　heart　in　a　tumult。　　Even　now；　he　stood　before　the



portrait　with　a　certain　degree　of　embarrassment。　　It　was　the　face



of　a　woman　already　old　in　her　first　youth；　thoroughly



sophisticated　and　a　trifle　hard；　and　it　told　of　what　her　brother



had　called　her　fight。　　The　camaraderie　of　her　frank；　confident



eyes　was　qualified　by　the　deep　lines　about　her　mouth　and　the



curve　of　the　lips；　which　was　both　sad　and　cynical。　　Certainly　she



had　more　good　will　than　confidence　toward　the　world；　and　the



bravado　of　her　smile　could　not　conceal　the　shadow　of　an　unrest



that　was　almost　discontent。　　The　chief　charm　of　the　woman；　as



Everett　had　known　her；　lay　in　her　superb　figure　and　in　her　eyes；



which　possessed　a　warm；　lifegiving　quality　like　the　sunlight；



eyes　which　glowed　with　a　sort　of　perpetual　salutat　to　the



world。　　Her　head；　Everett　remembered　as　peculiarly　well…shaped　and



proudly　poised。　　There　had　been　always　a　little　of　the　imperatrix



about　her；　and　her　pose　in　the　photograph　revived　all　his　old



impressions　of　her　unattachedness；　of　how　absolutely　and　valiantly



she　stood　alone。







Everett　was　still　standing　before　the　picture；　his　hands　behind　him



and　his　head　inclined；　when　he　heard　the　door　open。　　A　very　tall



woman　advanced　toward　him；　holding　out　her　hand。　　As　she　started　to



speak；　she　coughed　slightly；　then；　laughing；　said；　in　a　low；　rich



voice；　a　trifle　husky：　〃You　see　I　make　the　traditional　Camille



entrancewith　the　cough。　　How　good　of　you　to　come；　Mr。　Hilgarde。〃







Everett　was　acutely　conscious　that　while　addressing　him　she



was　not　looking　at　him　at　all；　and；　as　he　assured　her　of　his



pleasure　in　coming；　he　was　glad　to　have　an　opportunity　to　collect



himself。　　He　had　not　reckoned　upon　the　ravages　of　a　long　illness。　



The　long；　loose　folds　of　her　white　gown　had　been　especially



designed　to　conceal　the　sharp　outlines　of　her　emaciated　body；　but



the　stamp　of　her　disease　was　there；　simple　and　ugly　and　obtrusive；



a　pitiless　fact　that　could　not　be　disguised　or　evaded。　　The



splendid　shoulders　were　stooped；　there　was　a　swaying　unevenness　in



her　gait；　her　arms　seemed　disproportionately　long；　and　her　hands



were　transparently　white　and　cold　to　the　touch。　　The　changes　in　her



face　were　less　obvious；　the　proud　carriage　of　the　head；　the　warm；



clear　eyes；　even　the　delicate　flush　of　color　in　her　cheeks；　all



defiantly　remained；　though　they　were　all　in　a　lower　keyolder；



sadder；　softer。







She　sat　down　upon　the　divan　and　began　nervou