第42部分 (第2/9页)

　and　strode　himself

to　the　other　end　of　the　line。　She　saw　him　stooping；　working

towards　her。　She　was　excited；　and　unused。　She　put　in　one　potato；

then　rearranged　it；　to　make　it　sit　nicely。　Some　of　the　sprits

were　broken；　and　she　was　afraid。　The　responsibility　excited　her

like　a　string　tying　her　up。　She　could　not　help　looking　with

dread　at　the　string　buried　under　the　heaped…back　soil。　Her

father　was　working　nearer；　stooping；　working　nearer。　She　was

overe　by　her　responsibility。　She　put　potatoes　quickly　into

the　cold　earth。

He　came　near。

〃Not　so　close；〃　he　said；　stooping　over　her　potatoes；　taking

some　out　and　rearranging　the　others。　She　stood　by　with　the

painful　terrified　helplessness　of　childhood。　He　was　so　unseeing

and　confident；　she　wanted　to　do　the　thing　and　yet　she　could　not。

She　stood　by　looking　on；　her　little　blue　overall　fluttering　in

the　wind；　the　red　woollen　ends　of　her　shawl　blowing　gustily。

Then　he　went　down　the　row；　relentlessly；　turning　the　potatoes　in

with　his　sharp　spade…cuts。　He　took　no　notice　of　her；　only　worked

on。　He　had　another　world　from　hers。

She　stood　helplessly　stranded　on　his　world。　He　continued　his

work。　She　knew　she　could　not　help　him。　A　little　bit　forlorn；　at

last　she　turned　away；　and　ran　down　the　garden；　away　from　him；　as

fast　as　she　could　go　away　from　him；　to　forget　him　and　his

work。