the research magnificent-第49部分

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　had　been　struck　in　the　face；　and　when　the　name　of　Mrs。　Skelmersdale　came　into　his　head；　he　glanced　at　his　wife　by　his　side　as　if　it　were　something　that　she　might　well　have　heard。　　Was　this　indeed　the　same　thing　as　that？　　Wonderful；　fresh　as　the　day　of　Creation；　clean　as　flame；　yet　the　same！　　Was　Amanda　indeed　the　sister　of　Mrs。　Skelmersdale　wrought　of　clean　fire；　but　her　sister？　。　。　。　But　also　beside　the　inimical　aspects　which　could　set　such　doubts　afoot　there　were　in　her　infinite　variety　yet　other　Amandas　neither　very　dear　nor　very　annoying；　but　for　the　most　part　delightful；　who　entertained　him　as　strangers　might；　Amandas　with　an　odd　twist　which　made　them　amusing　to　watch；　jolly　Amandas　who　were　simply　irrelevant。　　There　was　for　example　Amanda　the　Dog　Mistress；　with　an　astonishing　tact　and　understanding　of　dogs；　who　could　explain　dogs　and　the　cock　of　their　ears　and　the　droop　of　their　tails　and　their　vanity　and　their　fidelity；　and　why　they　looked　up　and　why　they　suddenly　went　off　round　the　corner；　and　their　pride　in　the　sound　of　their　voices　and　their　dastardly　thoughts　and　sniffing　satisfactions；　so　that　for　the　first　time　dogs　had　souls　for　Benham　to　see。　　And　there　was　an　Amanda　with　a　striking　passion　for　the　sleekness　and　soft　noses　of　horses。　　And　there　was　an　Amanda　extremely　garrulous；　who　was　a　biographical　dictionary　and　critical　handbook　to　all　the　girls　in　the　school　she　had　attended　at　Chichesterthey　seemed　a　very　girlish　lot　of　girls；　and　an　Amanda　who　was　very　knowingknowing　was　the　only　word　for　itabout　pictures　and　architecture。　　And　these　and　all　the　other　Amandas　agreed　together　to　develop　and　share　this　one　quality　in　common；　that　altogether　they　pointed　to　no　end；　they　converged　on　nothing。　She　was；　it　grew　more　and　more　apparent；　a　miscellany　bound　in　a　body。　　She　was　an　animated　discursiveness。　　That　passion　to　get　all　things　together　into　one　aristocratic　aim；　that　restraint　of　purpose；　that　imperative　to　focus；　which　was　the　structural　essential　of　Benham's　spirit；　was　altogether　foreign　to　her　composition。　There　were　so　many　Amandas；　they　were　as　innumerable　as　the　Venuses　Cytherea；　Cypria；　Paphia；　Popularia；　Euploea；　Area；　Verticordia；　Etaira；　Basilea；　Myrtea；　Libertina；　Freya；　Astarte；　Philommedis；　Telessigamma；　Anadyomene；　and　a　thousand　others　to　whom　men　have　bowed　and　built　temples；　a　thousand　and　the　same；　and　yet　it　seemed　to　Benham　there　was　still　one　wanting。　The　Amanda　he　had　loved　most　wonderfully　was　that　Amanda　in　armour　who　had　walked　with　him　through　the　wilderness　of　the　world　along　the　road　to　Chichesterand　that　Amanda　came　back　to　him　no　more。

5

Amanda　too　was　making　her　observations　and　discoveries。　These　moods　of　his　perplexed　her；　she　was　astonished　to　find　he　was　becoming　irritable；　she　felt　that　he　needed　a　firm　but　gentle　discipline　in　his　deportment　as　a　lover。　　At　first　he　had　been　perfect。　。　。　。　But　Amanda　was　more　prepared　for　human　inconsecutiveness　than　Benham；　because　she　herself　was　inconsecutive；　and　her　dissatisfaction　with　his　irritations　and　preoccupation　broadened　to　no　general　discontent。　　He　had　seemed　perfect　and　he　wasn't。　　So　nothing　was　perfect。　　And　he　had　to　be　managed；　just　as　one　must　manage　a　dog　or　a　cousin　or　a　mother　or　a　horse。　　Anyhow　she　had　got　him；　she　had　no　doubt　that　she　held　him　by　a　thousand　ties；　the　spotless　leopard　had　him　between　her　teeth；　he　was　a　prisoner　in　the　dusk　of　her　hair；　and　the　world　was　all　one　vast　promise　of　entertainment。

6

But　the　raid　into　the　Balkans　was　not　the　tremendous　success　she　had　expected　it　to　be。　　They　had　adventures；　but　they　were　not　the　richly　coloured；　mediaeval　affairs　she　had　anticipated。　　For　the　most　part　until　Benham　broke　loose　beyond　Ochrida　they　were　adventures　in　discomfort。　　In　those　remote　parts　of　Europe　inns　die　away　and　cease；　and　it　had　never　occurred　to　Amanda　that　inns　could　die　away　anywhere。　　She　had　thought　that　they　just　became　very　simple　and　natural　and　quaint。　　And　she　had　thought　that　when　benighted　people　knocked　at　a　door　it　would　presently　open　hospitably。　　She　had　not　expected　shots　at　random　from　the　window。　And　it　is　not　usual　in　Albania　generally　for　women；　whether　they　are　Christian　or　Moslem；　to　go　about　unveiled；　when　they　do　so　it　leads　to　singular　manifestations。　　The　moral　sense　of　the　men　is　shocked　and　staggered；　and　they　show　it　in　many　homely　ways。　　Small　boys　at　that　age　when　feminine　beauty　does　not　yet　prevail　with　them；　pelt。　Also　in　Mahometan　districts　they　pelt　men　who　do　not　wear　fezzes；　while　occasionally　Christians　of　the　shawl…headed　or　skull…cap　persuasions　will　pelt　a　fez。　　Sketching　is　always　a　peltable　or　mobable　offence；　as　being　contrary　to　the　Koran；　and　sitting　down　tempts　the　pelter。　　Generally　they　pelt。　　The　dogs　of　Albania　are　numerous；　big；　dirty；　white　dogs；　large　and　hostile；　and　they　attack　with　little　hesitation。　　The　women　of　Albania　are　secluded　and　remote；　and　indisposed　to　be　of　service　to　an　alien　sister。　　Roads　are　infrequent　and　most　bridges　have　broken　down。　　No　bridge　has　been　repaired　since　the　later　seventeenth　century；　and　no　new　bridge　has　been　made　since　the　decline　and　fall　of　the　Roman　Empire。　　There　are　no　shops　at　all。　　The　scenery　is　magnificent　but　precipitous；　and　many　of　the　high　roads　are　difficult　to　trace。　　And　there　is　rain。　　In　Albania　there　is　sometimes　very　heavy　rain。　Yet　in　spite　of　these　drawbacks　they　spent　some　splendid　hours　in　their　exploration　of　that　wild　lost　country　beyond　the　Adriatic　headlands。　　There　was　the　approach　to　Cattaro　for　example；　through　an　arm　of　the　sea；　amazingly　beautiful　on　either　shore；　that　wound　its　way　into　the　wild　mountains　and　ended　in　a　deep　blue　bay　under　the　tremendous　declivity　of　Montenegro。　　The　quay；　with　its　trees　and　lateen　craft；　ran　along　under　the　towers　and　portcullised　gate　of　the　old　Venetian　wall；　within　clustered　the　town；　and　then　the　fortifications　zigzagged　up　steeply　to　a　monstrous　fantastic　fortress　perched　upon　a　great　mountain　headland　that　overhung　the　town。　　Behind　it　the　rocks；　slashed　to　and　fro　with　the　road　to　Cettinje；　continued　to　ascend　into　blue　haze；　upward　and　upward　until　they　became　a　purple　curtain　that　filled　half　the　heavens。　The　paved　still　town　was　squalid　by　day；　but　in　the　evening　it　became　theatrically　incredible；　with　an　outdoor　cafe　amidst　flowers　and　creepers；　a　Hungarian　military　band；　a　rabble　of　promenaders　like　a　stage　chorus　in　gorgeous　costumes　and　a　great　gibbous　yellow　moon。　And　there　was　Kroia；　which　Benham　and　Amanda　saw　first　through　the　branches　of　the　great　trees　that　bordered　the　broad　green　track　they　were　following。　　The　town　and　its　castle　were　poised　at　a　tremendous　height；　sunlit　and　brilliant　against　a　sombre　mass　of　storm　cloud；　over　vast　cliffs　and　ravines。　　Kroia　continued　to　be　beautiful　through　a　steep　laborious　approach　up　to　the　very　place　itself；　a　clustering　group　of　houses　and　bazaars　crowned　with　a　tower　and　a　minaret；　and　from　a　painted　corridor　upon　this　crest　they　had　a　wonderful　view　of　the　great　seaward　levels；　and　even　far　away　the　blue　sea　itself　stretching　between　Scutari　and　Durazzo。　　The　eye　fell　in　succession　down　the　stages　of　a　vast　and　various　descent；　on　the　bazaars　a