Mark remembered how uneasy she had made him — how that very talk with her had wound him up to fear, as so acute and intent a little person she affected21 him; though he had affirmed with all emphasis and flourish his own confidence and defended, to iteration, his old friend. This passage had remained with him for a certain pleasant heat of intimacy22, his partner, of the charming appearance, being what she was; he liked to think how they had fraternised over their difference and called each other idiots, or almost, without offence. It was always a link to have scuffled, failing a real scratch, with such a character; and he had at present the flutter of feeling that something of this would abide23. He hadn’t been hurrying home, at the London time, in any case; he was doing nothing then, and had continued to do it; he would want, before showing suspicion — that had been his attitude — to have more, after all, to go upon. Mrs. Folliott also, and with a great actual profession of it, remembered and rejoiced; and, also staying in the house as she was, sat with him, under a spreading palm, in a wondrous rococo24 salon25, surrounded by the pinkest, that is the fleshiest, imitation Boucher panels, and wanted to know if he now stood up for his swindler. She would herself have tumbled on a cloud, very passably, in a fleshy Boucher manner, hadn’t she been over-dressed for such an exercise; but she was quite realistically aware of what had so naturally happened — she was prompt about Bloodgood’s “flight.”
She had acted with energy, on getting back — she had saved what she could; which hadn’t, however, prevented her losing all disgustedly some ten thousand dollars. She was lovely, lively, friendly, interested, she connected Monteith perfectly26 with their discussion that day during the water-party on the Thames; but, sitting here with him half an hour, she talked only of her peculiar27, her cruel sacrifice — since she should never get a penny back. He had felt himself, on their meeting, quite yearningly28 reach out to her — so decidedly, by the morning’s end, and that of his scattered29 sombre stations, had he been sated with meaningless contacts, with the sense of people all about him intensely, though harmlessly, animated30, yet at the same time raspingly indifferent. They would have, he and she at least, their common pang31 — through which fact, somehow, he should feel less stranded32. It wasn’t that he wanted to be pitied — he fairly didn’t pity himself; he winced33, rather, and even to vicarious anguish34, as it rose again, for poor shamed Bloodgood’s doom-ridden figure. But he wanted, as with a desperate charity, to give some easier turn to the mere35 ugliness of the main facts; to work off his obsession36 from them by mixing with it some other blame, some other pity, it scarce mattered what — if it might be some other experience; as an effect of which larger ventilation it would have, after a fashion and for a man of free sensibility, a diluted37 and less poisonous taste.
By the end of five minutes of Mrs. Folliott, however, he felt his dry lips seal themselves to a makeshift simper. She could take nothing — no better, no broader perception of anything than fitted her own small faculty38; so that though she must have recalled or imagined that he had still, up to lately, had interests at stake, the rapid result of her egotistical little chatter39 was to make him wish he might rather have conversed40 with the French waiter dangling41 in the long vista42 that showed the oriental caf?? as a climax43, or with the policeman, outside, the top of whose helmet peeped above the ledge44 of a window. She bewailed her wretched money to excess — she who, he was sure, had quantities more; she pawed and tossed her bare bone, with her little extraordinarily45 gemmed46 and manicured hands, till it acted on his nerves; she rang all the changes on the story, the dire47 fatality48, of her having wavered and muddled49, thought of this and but done that, of her stupid failure to have pounced50, when she had first meant to, in season. She abused the author of their wrongs — recognising thus too Monteith’s right to loathe51 him — for the desperado he assuredly had proved, but with a vulgarity of analysis and an incapacity for the higher criticism, as her listener felt it to be, which made him determine resentfully, almost grimly, that she shouldn’t have the benefit of a grain of his vision or his version of what had befallen them, and of how, in particular, it had come; and should never dream thereby52 (though much would she suffer from that!) of how interesting he might have been. She had, in a finer sense, no manners, and to be concerned with her in any retrospect53 was — since their discourse54 was of losses — to feel the dignity of history incur55 the very gravest. It was true that such fantasies, or that any shade of inward irony56, would be Greek to Mrs. Folliott. It was also true, however, and not much more strange, when she had presently the comparatively happy thought of “Lunch with us, you poor dear!” and mentioned three or four of her “crowd” — a new crowd, rather, for her, all great Sunday lunchers there and immense fun, who would in a moment be turning up — that this seemed to him as easy as anything else; so that after a little, deeper in the jungle and while, under the temperature as of high noon, with the crowd complete and “ordering,” he wiped the perspiration57 from his brow, he felt he was letting himself go. He did that certainly to the extent of leaving far behind any question of Mrs. Folliott’s manners. They didn’t matter there — nobody’s did; and if she ceased to lament58 her ten thousand it was only because, among higher voices, she couldn’t make herself heard. Poor Blood-good didn’t have a show, as they might have said, didn’t get through at any point; the crowd was so new that — there either having been no hue and cry for him, or having been too many others, for other absconders, in the intervals59 — they had never so much as heard of him and would have no more of Mrs. Folliott’s true inwardness, on that subject at least, than she had lately cared to have of Monteith’s.
There was nothing like a crowd, this unfortunate knew, for making one feel lonely, and he felt so increasingly during the meal; but he got thus at least in a measure away from the terrible little lady; after which, and before the end of the hour, he wanted still more to get away from every one else. He was in fact about to perform this manoeuvre60 when he was checked by the jolly young woman he had been having on his left and who had more to say about the Hotels, up and down the town, than he had ever known a young woman to have to say on any subject at all; she expressed herself in hotel terms exclusively, the names of those establishments playing through her speech as the leit-motif might have recurrently flashed and romped61 through a piece of profane62 modern music. She wanted to present him to the pretty girl she had brought with her, and who had apparently63 signified to her that she must do so.
“I think you know my brother-in-law, Mr. Newton Winch,” the pretty girl had immediately said; she moved her head and shoulders together, as by a common spring, the effect of a stiff neck or of something loosened in her back hair; but becoming, queerly enough, all the prettier for doing so. He had seen in the papers, her brother-in-law, Mr. Monteith’s arrival — Mr. Mark P. Monteith, wasn’t it? — and where he was, and she had been with him, three days before, at the time; whereupon he had said “Hullo, what can have brought old Mark back?” He seemed to have believed — Newton had seemed — that that shirker, as he called him, never would come; and she guessed that if she had known she was going to meet such a former friend (“Which he claims you are, sir,” said the pretty girl) he would have asked her to find out what the trouble could be. But the real satisfaction would just be, she went on, if his former friend would himself go and see him and tell him; he had appeared of late so down.
“Oh, I remember him” — Mark didn’t repudiate64 the friendship, placing him easily; only then he wasn’t married and the pretty girl’s sister must have come in later: which showed, his not knowing such things, how they had lost touch. The pretty girl was sorry to have to say in return to this that her sister wasn’t living — had died two years after marrying; so that Newton was up there in Fiftieth Street alone; where (in explanation of his being “down”) he had been shut up for days with bad grippe; though now on the mend, or she wouldn’t have gone to him, not she, who had had it nineteen times and didn’t want to have it again. But the horrid65 poison just seemed to have entered into poor Newton’s soul.
“That’s the way it can take you, don’t you know?” And then as, with her single twist, she just charmingly hunched66 her eyes at our friend, “Don’t you want to go to see him?”
Mark bethought himself: “Well, I’m going to see a lady ——— ”
She took the words from his mouth. “Of course you’re going to see a lady — every man in New York is. But Newton isn’t a lady, unfortunately for him, to-day; and Sunday afternoon in this place, in this weather, alone ———!”
“Yes, isn’t it awful?” — he was quite drawn67 to her.
“Oh, you’ve got your lady!”
“Yes, I’ve got my lady, thank goodness!” The fervour of which was his sincere tribute to the note he had had on Friday morning from Mrs. Ash, the only thing that had a little tempered his gloom.
“Well then, feel for others. Fit him in. Tell him why!”
“Why I’ve come back? I’m glad I have — since it was to see you!” Monteith made brave enough answer, promising68 to do what he could. He liked the pretty girl, with her straight attack and her free awkwardness — also with her difference from the others through something of a sense and a distinction given her by so clearly having Newton on her mind. Yet it was odd to him, and it showed the lapse69 of the years, that Winch — as he had known him of old — could be to that degree on any one’s mind.
点击收听单词发音
1 bustle | |
v.喧扰地忙乱,匆忙,奔忙;n.忙碌;喧闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 sprawl | |
vi.躺卧,扩张,蔓延;vt.使蔓延;n.躺卧,蔓延 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 gregarious | |
adj.群居的,喜好群居的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 labyrinth | |
n.迷宫;难解的事物;迷路 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 portentous | |
adj.不祥的,可怕的,装腔作势的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 publicity | |
n.众所周知,闻名;宣传,广告 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 wondrous | |
adj.令人惊奇的,奇妙的;adv.惊人地;异乎寻常地;令人惊叹地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 vociferous | |
adj.喧哗的,大叫大嚷的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 hue | |
n.色度;色调;样子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 smothered | |
(使)窒息, (使)透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 ); 覆盖; 忍住; 抑制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 tapestry | |
n.挂毯,丰富多采的画面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 ramifications | |
n.结果,后果( ramification的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 fauna | |
n.(一个地区或时代的)所有动物,动物区系 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 flora | |
n.(某一地区的)植物群 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 bruised | |
[医]青肿的,瘀紫的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 precisely | |
adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 confidential | |
adj.秘(机)密的,表示信任的,担任机密工作的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 factotum | |
n.杂役;听差 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 scruple | |
n./v.顾忌,迟疑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 intimacy | |
n.熟悉,亲密,密切关系,亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 abide | |
vi.遵守;坚持;vt.忍受 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 rococo | |
n.洛可可;adj.过分修饰的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 salon | |
n.[法]沙龙;客厅;营业性的高级服务室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 yearningly | |
怀念地,思慕地,同情地; 渴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 animated | |
adj.生气勃勃的,活跃的,愉快的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 pang | |
n.剧痛,悲痛,苦闷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 stranded | |
a.搁浅的,进退两难的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 winced | |
赶紧避开,畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 obsession | |
n.困扰,无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 diluted | |
无力的,冲淡的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 faculty | |
n.才能;学院,系;(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 chatter | |
vi./n.喋喋不休;短促尖叫;(牙齿)打战 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 conversed | |
v.交谈,谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 dangling | |
悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 ); 摆动不定; 用某事物诱惑…; 吊胃口 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 vista | |
n.远景,深景,展望,回想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 climax | |
n.顶点;高潮;v.(使)达到顶点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 ledge | |
n.壁架,架状突出物;岩架,岩礁 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 extraordinarily | |
adv.格外地;极端地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 gemmed | |
点缀(gem的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 dire | |
adj.可怕的,悲惨的,阴惨的,极端的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 fatality | |
n.不幸,灾祸,天命 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 muddled | |
adj.混乱的;糊涂的;头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱,弄糟( muddle的过去式);使糊涂;对付,混日子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 pounced | |
v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 );猛扑;一眼看出;抓住机会(进行抨击) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 loathe | |
v.厌恶,嫌恶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 thereby | |
adv.因此,从而 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 retrospect | |
n.回顾,追溯;v.回顾,回想,追溯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 discourse | |
n.论文,演说;谈话;话语;vi.讲述,著述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 incur | |
vt.招致,蒙受,遭遇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 irony | |
n.反语,冷嘲;具有讽刺意味的事,嘲弄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 perspiration | |
n.汗水;出汗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 lament | |
n.悲叹,悔恨,恸哭;v.哀悼,悔恨,悲叹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 manoeuvre | |
n.策略,调动;v.用策略,调动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 romped | |
v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的过去式和过去分词 );(尤指在赛跑或竞选等中)轻易获胜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 profane | |
adj.亵神的,亵渎的;vt.亵渎,玷污 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 repudiate | |
v.拒绝,拒付,拒绝履行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 horrid | |
adj.可怕的;令人惊恐的;恐怖的;极讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 hunched | |
(常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦)耸肩弓身的,伏首前倾的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 promising | |
adj.有希望的,有前途的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 lapse | |
n.过失,流逝,失效,抛弃信仰,间隔;vi.堕落,停止,失效,流逝;vt.使失效 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |