On the seat opposite sits the Provincial5 Secretary of Special Commissions, a budding young author, who from time to time publishes long stories of high life, or “Novelli” as he calls them, in the leading paper of the province. He is gazing into her face, gazing intently, with the eyes of a connoisseur6. He is watching, studying, catching7 every shade of this exceptional, enigmatic nature. He understands it, he fathoms8 it. Her soul, her whole psychology9 lies open before him.
“Oh, I understand, I understand you to your inmost depths!” says the Secretary of Special Commissions, kissing her hand near the bracelet10. “Your sensitive, responsive soul is seeking to escape from the maze11 of —— Yes, the struggle is terrific, titanic12. But do not lose heart, you will be triumphant13! Yes!”
“Write about me, Voldemar!” says the pretty lady, with a mournful smile. “My life has been so full, so varied14, so chequered. Above all, I am unhappy. I am a suffering soul in some page of Dostoevsky. Reveal my soul to the world, Voldemar. Reveal that hapless soul. You are a psychologist. We have not been in the train an hour together, and you have already fathomed15 my heart.”
“Tell me! I beseech16 you, tell me!”
“Listen. My father was a poor clerk in the Service. He had a good heart and was not without intelligence; but the spirit of the age—of his environment—vous comprenez?—I do not blame my poor father. He drank, gambled, took bribes17. My mother—but why say more? Poverty, the struggle for daily bread, the consciousness of insignificance—ah, do not force me to recall it! I had to make my own way. You know the monstrous18 education at a boarding-school, foolish novel-reading, the errors of early youth, the first timid flutter of love. It was awful! The vacillation19! And the agonies of losing faith in life, in oneself! Ah, you are an author. You know us women. You will understand. Unhappily I have an intense nature. I looked for happiness—and what happiness! I longed to set my soul free. Yes. In that I saw my happiness!”
“Exquisite creature!” murmured the author, kissing her hand close to the bracelet. “It’s not you I am kissing, but the suffering of humanity. Do you remember Raskolnikov and his kiss?”
“Oh, Voldemar, I longed for glory, renown20, success, like every—why affect modesty21?—every nature above the commonplace. I yearned22 for something extraordinary, above the common lot of woman! And then—and then—there crossed my path—an old general—very well off. Understand me, Voldemar! It was self-sacrifice, renunciation! You must see that! I could do nothing else. I restored the family fortunes, was able to travel, to do good. Yet how I suffered, how revolting, how loathsome23 to me were his embraces—though I will be fair to him—he had fought nobly in his day. There were moments—terrible moments—but I was kept up by the thought that from day to day the old man might die, that then I would begin to live as I liked, to give myself to the man I adore—be happy. There is such a man, Voldemar, indeed there is!”
The pretty lady flutters her fan more violently. Her face takes a lachrymose24 expression. She goes on:
“But at last the old man died. He left me something. I was free as a bird of the air. Now is the moment for me to be happy, isn’t it, Voldemar? Happiness comes tapping at my window, I had only to let it in—but—Voldemar, listen, I implore25 you! Now is the time for me to give myself to the man I love, to become the partner of his life, to help, to uphold his ideals, to be happy—to find rest—but—how ignoble26, repulsive27, and senseless all our life is! How mean it all is, Voldemar. I am wretched, wretched, wretched! Again there is an obstacle in my path! Again I feel that my happiness is far, far away! Ah, what anguish28!—if only you knew what anguish!”
“But what—what stands in your way? I implore you tell me! What is it?”
“Another old general, very well off——”
The broken fan conceals29 the pretty little face. The author props30 on his fist his thought-heavy brow and ponders with the air of a master in psychology. The engine is whistling and hissing31 while the window curtains flush red with the glow of the setting sun.
点击收听单词发音
1 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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2 fluffy | |
adj.有绒毛的,空洞的 | |
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3 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
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4 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
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5 provincial | |
adj.省的,地方的;n.外省人,乡下人 | |
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6 connoisseur | |
n.鉴赏家,行家,内行 | |
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7 catching | |
adj.易传染的,有魅力的,迷人的,接住 | |
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8 fathoms | |
英寻( fathom的名词复数 ) | |
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9 psychology | |
n.心理,心理学,心理状态 | |
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10 bracelet | |
n.手镯,臂镯 | |
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11 maze | |
n.迷宫,八阵图,混乱,迷惑 | |
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12 titanic | |
adj.巨人的,庞大的,强大的 | |
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13 triumphant | |
adj.胜利的,成功的;狂欢的,喜悦的 | |
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14 varied | |
adj.多样的,多变化的 | |
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15 fathomed | |
理解…的真意( fathom的过去式和过去分词 ); 彻底了解; 弄清真相 | |
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16 beseech | |
v.祈求,恳求 | |
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17 bribes | |
n.贿赂( bribe的名词复数 );向(某人)行贿,贿赂v.贿赂( bribe的第三人称单数 );向(某人)行贿,贿赂 | |
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18 monstrous | |
adj.巨大的;恐怖的;可耻的,丢脸的 | |
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19 vacillation | |
n.动摇;忧柔寡断 | |
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20 renown | |
n.声誉,名望 | |
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21 modesty | |
n.谦逊,虚心,端庄,稳重,羞怯,朴素 | |
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22 yearned | |
渴望,切盼,向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23 loathsome | |
adj.讨厌的,令人厌恶的 | |
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24 lachrymose | |
adj.好流泪的,引人落泪的;adv.眼泪地,哭泣地 | |
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25 implore | |
vt.乞求,恳求,哀求 | |
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26 ignoble | |
adj.不光彩的,卑鄙的;可耻的 | |
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27 repulsive | |
adj.排斥的,使人反感的 | |
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28 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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29 conceals | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,遮住( conceal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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30 props | |
小道具; 支柱( prop的名词复数 ); 支持者; 道具; (橄榄球中的)支柱前锋 | |
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31 hissing | |
n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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