第55章

"It's the defeat more than anything else that hurts you! Defeat is always the hardest thing for you to stand, even in trifles.But don't you know that we have to be defeated in order to succeed? Most of us spend half our lives in fighting for things that would only destroy us if we got them.A man who has never been defeated is usually a man who has been ruined.And, of course," she added with light raillery, "of course there are things stronger than the strongest will and purpose: the sum of other men's wills and purposes, for instance.A single soldier may have all the will and purpose to whip an army, but he doesn't do it.And a man may have all the will and purpose to whip the world, walk over it rough-shod, shoulder it out of his way as you'd like to do, but he doesn't do it.And of course we do not shatter our ideals ourselves--always: a thousand things outside ourselves do that for us.And what reason had you to say that you would have what you wanted? Your wishes are not infallible.Suppose you craved the forbidden?"She looked over at him archly, but he jerked his face farther away.Then he spoke out with the impulse to get away from her question:

"I could stand to be worsted by great things.But the little ones, the low, the coarse, the trivial! Ever since I was here last--beginning that very night--I have been struggling like a beast with his foot in a trap.I don't mean Amy!" he cried apologetically.

"I'm glad you've discovered there are little things," she replied."I had feared you might never find that out.I'm not sure yet that you have.One of your great troubles is that everything in life looks too large to you, too serious, too important.You fight the gnats of the world as you fought your panther.With you everything is a mortal combat.You run every butterfly down and break it on an iron wheel; after you have broken it, it doesn't matter: everything is as it was before, except that you have lost time and strength.The only things that need trouble us very much are not the things it is right to conquer, but the things it is wrong to conquer.If you ever conquer in yourself anything that is right, that will be a real trouble for you as long as you live--and for me!"He turned quickly and sat facing her, the muscles of his face moving convulsively.She did not look at him, but went on:

"The last time you were here, you told me that I did not appreciate Amy;that I could not do her justice; but that no woman could ever understand why a man loved any other woman.""Did I say that?" he muttered remorsefully.

"It was because you did not appreciate he--it was because you would never be able to do her justice--that I was so opposed to the marriage.And this was largely a question of little things.I knew perfectly well that as soon as you married Amy, you would begin to expect her to act as though she were made of iron: so many pieces, so many wheels, so many cogs, so many revolutions.All the inevitable little things that make up the most of her life--that make up so large a part of every woman's life--the little moods, the little play, little changes, little tempers and inconsistencies and contradictions and falsities and hypocrisies which come every morning and go every night,--all these would soon have been to you--oh! I'm afraid they'd have been as big as a herd of buffalo! There would have been a bull fight for every foible."She laughed out merrily, but she did not look at him.

"Yes," she continued, trying to drain his cup for him, since he would not do it himself, "you are the last man in the world to do a woman like Amy justice.I'm afraid you will never do justice to any woman, unless you change a good deal and learn a good deal.Perhaps no woman will ever understand you--except me."She looked up at him now with the clearest fondness in her exquisite eyes.

With a groan he suddenly leaned over and buried his face in his hands.His hat fell over on the grass.Her knitting dropped to her lap, and one of her hands went out quickly toward his big head, heavy with its shaggy reddish mass of hair, which had grown long during his sickness.But at the first touch she quickly withdrew it, and stooping over picked up his hat and put it on her knees, and sat beside him silent and motionless.

He straightened himself up a moment later, and keeping his face turned away reached for his hat and drew it down over his eyes.