第72部分(第6/8 頁)

Morton　long：　no；　no！”

“Why？　What　is　your　reason　for　saying　so？”

“I　read　it　in　your　eye；　it　is　not　of　that　description　which　promises　the　maintenance　of　an　even　tenor　in　life。”

“I　am　not　ambitious。”

He　started　at　the　word　“ambitious。”　He　repeated；　“No。　What　made　you　think　of　ambition？　Who　is　ambitious？　I　know　I　am：　but　how　did　you　find　it　out？”

“I　was　speaking　of　myself。”

“Well；　if　you　are　not　ambitious；　you　are—”　He　paused。

“What？”

“I　was　going　to　say；　impassioned：　but　perhaps　you　would　have　misunderstood　the　word；　and　been　displeased。　I　mean；　that　human　affections　and　sympathies　have　a　most　powerful　hold　on　you。　I　am　sure　you　cannot　long　be　content　to　pass　your　leisure　in　solitude；　and　to　devote　your　working　hours　to　a　monotonous　labour　wholly　void　of　stimulus：　any　more　than　I　can　be　content；”　he　added；　with　emphasis；　“to　live　here　buried　in　morass；　pent　in　with　mountains—my　nature；　that　God　gave　me；　contravened；　my　faculties；　heaven…　bestowed；　paralysed—made　useless。　You　hear　now　how　I　contradict　myself。　I；　who　preached　contentment　with　a　humble　lot；　and　justified　the　vocation　even　of　hewers　of　wood　and　drawers　of　water　in　God’s　service—I；　His　ordained　minister；　almost　rave　in　my　restlessness。　Well；　propensities　and　principles　must　be　reconciled　by　some　means。”

He　left　the　room。　In　this　brief　hour　I　had　learnt　more　of　him　than　in　the　whole　previous　month：　yet　still　he　puzzled　me。

Diana　and　Mary　Rivers　bec