It was a crisp January morning. The snow had come and the train rattled2 through a flat, white country, cut into strips as far as one could see by the straight up and down lines of the black pine stumps3. At Liddington Hunch went up to the white brick hotel on the main street and ate his dinner alone. He walked up and down for an hour after dinner, trying to think clearly about Mamie and Bruce. Now, that he was on the ground, he was not sure why he had come. But it drew near three o’clock, and he walked out to Bruce’s cottage.
At first there was no answer to his knock. The curtains were down, and the snow had not been cleared away from the steps. He knocked again and rattled the knob. He heard some one moving. A little later an inside door opened, and then, after some fumbling4 with the lock, Mamie opened the door. She was pale and thin. A shawl was drawn5 over her head and shoulders.
“Oh!” she said, then smiled. “How do you do, Mister Badeau?”
Hunch stepped in and closed the door.
“What’s the matter?” he said. “You ain’t sick?”
“No, just a little under the weather. Come in and sit down.”
The front room was cold.
“Ain’t you got no fire?” Hunch asked.
“Yes, I made a little fire in the kitchen this morning. I can sit out there, you know. I don’t need any in here. Guess we’d better go out there anyhow, where it’s warmer.”
“You go ahead,” said Hunch; then, “Where’s your wood? I’ll make a fire here.”
“Oh, no, you mustn’t?”
“Now you just leave me be, Mis’ Considine. You set down in the kitchen and lemme fix you up. Where’s the wood?”
“It’s out here in the box,” said Mamie, opening the kitchen door.
Hunch saw why she was sparing of wood. There were only a few armfuls. But he built a roaring fire in the front room, and then took the ax out into the back yard and split up a heap of boards and timber waste that lay under the snow. Mamie watched him through the window. After a few strokes he grew warm from the exercise, and taking off his coat he handed it through the door to Mamie, and said, “Warm weather, ain’t it?” Mamie was smiling when she reappeared at the window. Hunch filled the wood box and laid a large pile on the floor at each end. Then he put on his coat.
“Well,” he said, “that’s more like. Pull up a chair, Mis’ Considine.”
“You must be hungry, Mr. Badeau, after all that work. I’m going to make you some coffee, anyway.”
“Now, don’t you do nothing of the sort. That ain’t work? That’s just fun.” Unconsciously he expanded his chest as he spoke6. In spite of his bent7 shoulders, it was a deep, rounded chest, different from Bruce’s. Mamie did not know that there was admiration8 in her eyes as she watched him.
“Now, you’ve got to let me, Mr. Badeau. I don’t have company very often. You just sit still and let me work awhile. I’m not doing my share.” So Hunch sat by the stove and watched her as she stepped about the kitchen. Her manner had brightened, and there was a flush on her cheeks. She took pains to keep the pantry door closed, but once Hunch caught a glimpse inside and saw that the shelves were nearly bare. While drinking the coffee they both felt a slight restraint. Occasionally when their eyes met, Mamie would lower hers and laugh nervously9. They talked of old times, and Hunch recalled, somewhat awkwardly, the day he had first met her on the beach by the life-saving station.
Then there was a long pause, and Hunch said, “Look here, Mis’ Considine, there ain’t no use trying to make me think things that ain’t so is so. I’m going down town and bring up something to eat.”
Mamie flushed.
“Now, don’t say nothing. You just leave me be and we’ll fix things up in great shape.”
Mamie tried to protest, but Hunch put on his ulster and started up the street, saying over his shoulder as he went down the steps, “I’ll be back in no time.”
He found Joe Cartier, who kept the grocery and meat market across from the hotel, at his house, and made him open his store and put up a large bundle of provisions. When he returned, Mamie was at the front window. She hurried to open the door.
“Come on and we’ll have a blowout,” said Hunch, as he cut the string and spread the packages over the kitchen table. “There’s a good many of the things that don’t have to be cooked at all. I got some preserve—thought you might like it. Do you? It’s peach.”
Mamie’s eyes were hesitating between laughter and tears, but she nodded quickly and the laugh triumphed. Then they both set to work. Hunch laid the table-cloth, and puttered about clumsily, while Mamie prepared the meal. Mamie laughed, at his awkwardness, and after a time grew so cheerful that she joked him and made him blush through the bronze on his face. And they sat facing each other across the table, with all the lively chatter10 of two foolish young people. Afterward11 she washed the dishes and he wiped them.
But when it was finished and they sat before the stove in the front room, the sense of restraint returned. For a long time neither spoke. They looked at the two cracked mica12 windows in the stove door, which glowed redly when the flames leaped up behind them. It was Mamie who finally broke the silence.
“Is—Bruce well?”
“He’s—he’s pretty well. He didn’t feel quite able to come down to-day. You know we’re bunking13 together. You see, I know about—now, you mustn’t think I’m poking14 my nose into none of my business. I and Bruce was together a good while, and we come to know a good deal about each other, o’ course.”
Mamie was looking at the stove windows. The wood in the stove had fallen, sending up sparks and shoots of flame that danced grotesquely15 on the mica.
“You see, if there’s anything I can do, ‘t aint ‘s if I was doing a favor. It’s just that mebbe I was lucky in getting a place that pays a little more’n Bruce’s. And you see he’d do just the same by me if it come that I was kind of on my uppers.”
Mamie was still silent.
“Now, you just be sensible-’cause it’s all sort of in the family, you know—and tell me how it is about the rent, and mebbe we can kind of patch things up, because three heads is better ‘n two. Understand?”
Mamie leaned back in her chair and rested her face in her hands. When Hunch looked at her he saw that she was crying, and he waited till she should speak. Finally she said, “I don’t know just what we’re going to do. It—it’s only that there’s some one else wants the house and we—of course——”
“Yes, of course,” said Hunch.
“I thought, maybe I ought to take a room somewhere.”
“That’s so. Something smaller. I dunno but what’s like as not you’d feel better anyhow. This is a pretty big house for a little bit of a thing like you. Mebbe ‘s long as Bruce is working up to Manistee you could get a room and sort of keep house for yourself. Be kind of snug16, don’t you think so?”
“Tell you what,” he said, after they had sat for several minutes without talking, “I’ll see what we can do.” He rose and put on his coat. Mamie watched him, but seemed unable to reply, and let him go out without a word.
He returned an hour later. Mamie was still sitting by the stove.
“It’s all fixed17 up,” he said, shaking the snow from his coat. “You’re going over to Cartier’s. They’ve got a big room for you, and he’s going to see that you get moved all right. You can take your meals right in the house. And ‘twon’t cost you hardly anything. Now, you just drop them blues18 and we’ll see if we can’t get you fatter ‘n you ever was. You’re a-going to have a good time yet this winter. And Bruce ‘ll come down Sundays. I’ve got to get the train. Guess I might’s well start along.” She got up slowly and followed him to the door. Neither knew what to say. Hunch buttoned his ulster and drew on one of his big fur mittens19. He looked at his hand, big and freckled21, with hard, knotted fingers and broken nails. He held it out hurriedly and said, “Well—good-by.”
She took his hand shyly. Suddenly she bent down and kissed it, and a tear dropped on it. Hunch pulled his hand away.
“Oh, don’t do that——”
She looked up into his face. She did not seem to care now if he saw her crying.
Hunch forgot that he had shaken hands and he took hers again, this time with his mitten20 on. Then he opened the door and hurried out. She stood at the window looking after him as he walked down the street, but he did not turn around.
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1
hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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2
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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3
stumps
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| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
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4
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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5
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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6
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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7
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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8
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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9
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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10
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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11
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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12
mica
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| n.云母 | |
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13
bunking
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| v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的现在分词 )；空话，废话 | |
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14
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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15
grotesquely
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| adv. 奇异地,荒诞地 | |
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16
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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17
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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18
blues
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| n.抑郁，沮丧；布鲁斯音乐 | |
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19
mittens
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| 不分指手套 | |
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20
mitten
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| n.连指手套，露指手套 | |
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21
freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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