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Zuleika Dobson; Or, An Oxford Love Story
·
Sir Max Beerbohm
88
For
the
first
time
since
his
avowal
of
his
love
for
her,
Zuleika
found
herself
genuinely
interested
in
him.
A
suspicion
of
his
meaning
had
flashed
through
her
soul.--But
no!
surely
he
could
not
mean
THAT!
It
must
have
been
a
metaphor
merely.
And
yet,
something
in
his
eyes...
She
leaned
beside
him.
Her
shoulder
touched
his.
She
gazed
questioningly
at
him.
He
did
not
turn
his
face
to
her.
He
gazed
at
the
sunlit
river.
The
Judas
Eight
had
just
embarked
for
their
voyage
to
the
starting-point.
Standing
on
the
edge
of
the
raft
that
makes
a
floating
platform
for
the
barge,
William,
the
hoary
bargee,
was
pushing
them
off
with
his
boat-hook,
wishing
them
luck
with
deferential
familiarity.
The
raft
was
thronged
with
Old
Judasians--mostly
clergymen--who
were
shouting
hearty
hortations,
and
evidently
trying
not
to
appear
so
old
as
they
felt--or
rather,
not
to
appear
so
startlingly
old
as
their
contemporaries
looked
to
them.
It
occurred
to
the
Duke
as
a
strange
thing,
and
a
thing
to
be
glad
of,
that
he,
in
this
world,
would
never
be
an
Old
Judasian.
Zuleika’s
shoulder
pressed
his.
He
thrilled
not
at
all.
To
all
intents,
he
was
dead
already.
The
enormous
eight
young
men
in
the
thread-like
skiff--the
skiff
that
would
scarce
have
seemed
an
adequate
vehicle
for
the
tiny
“cox”
who
sat
facing
them--were
staring
up
at
Zuleika
with
that
uniformity
of
impulse
which,
in
another
direction,
had
enabled
them
to
bump
a
boat
on
two
of
the
previous
“nights.”
If
to-night
they
bumped
the
next
boat,
Univ.,
then
would
Judas
be
three
places
“up”
on
the
river;
and
to-morrow
Judas
would
have
a
Bump
Supper.
Furthermore,
if
Univ.
were
bumped
to-night,
Magdalen
might
be
bumped
to-morrow.
Then
would
Judas,
for
the
first
time
in
history,
be
head
of
the
river.
Oh
tremulous
hope!
Yet,
for
the
moment,
these
eight
young
men
seemed
to
have
forgotten
the
awful
responsibility
that
rested
on
their
over-developed
shoulders.
Their
hearts,
already
strained
by
rowing,
had
been
transfixed
this
afternoon
by
Eros’
darts.
All
of
them
had
seen
Zuleika
as
she
came
down
to
the
river;
and
now
they
sat
gaping
up
at
her,
fumbling
with
their
oars.
The
tiny
cox
gaped
too;
but
he
it
was
who
first
recalled
duty.
With
piping
adjurations
he
brought
the
giants
back
to
their
senses.
The
boat
moved
away
down
stream,
with
a
fairly
steady
stroke.
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