First of all, she went to a pawnshop to pledge her turquoise2 ring, her only jewellery. They gave her a rouble for the ring ... but what can you buy for a rouble? For that you can't get a short jacket à la mode, or an elaborate hat, or a pair of brown shoes; yet without these things she felt naked. She felt as though, not only the people, but even the horses and dogs were staring at her and laughing at the plainness of her clothes. And her only thought was for her clothes; she did not care at all what she ate or where she slept.
"If only I were to meet a gentleman friend...." she thought. "I could get some money ... Nobody would say 'No,' because...."
But she came across no gentleman Mends. It's easy to find them of nights in the Renaissance3, but they wouldn't let her go into the Renaissance in that plain dress and without a hat. What's to be done? After a long time of anguish4, vexed5 and weary with walking, sitting, and thinking, Vanda made up her mind to play her last card: to go straight to the rooms of some gentleman friend and ask him for money.
"But who shall I go to?" she pondered. "I can't possibly go to Misha ... he's got a family.... The ginger-headed old man is at his office...."
Vanda recollected6 Finkel, the dentist, the converted Jew, who gave her a bracelet7 three months ago. Once she poured a glass of beer on his head at the German dub8. She was awfully9 glad that she had thought of Finkel.
"He'll be certain to give me some, if only I find him in..." she thought, on her way to him. "And if he won't, then I'll break every single thing there."
She had her plan already prepared. She approached the dentist's door. She would run up the stairs, with a laugh, fly into his private room and ask for twenty-five roubles.... But when she took hold of the bell-pull, the plan went clean out of her head. Vanda suddenly began to be afraid and agitated10, a thing which had never happened to her before. She was never anything but bold and independent in drunken company; but now, dressed in common clothes, and just like any ordinary person begging a favour, she felt timid and humble11.
"Perhaps he has forgotten me..." she thought, not daring to pull the bell. "And how can I go up to him in a dress like this? As if I were a pauper12, or a dowdy13 respectable..."
She rang the bell irresolutely14.
There were steps behind the door. It was the porter.
"Is the doctor at home?" she asked.
She would have been very pleased now if the porter had said "No," but instead of answering he showed her into the hall, and took her jacket. The stairs seemed to her luxurious15 and magnificent, but what she noticed first of all in all the luxury was a large mirror in which she saw a ragged16 creature without an elaborate hat, without a modish17 jacket, and without a pair of brown shoes. And Vanda found it strange that, now that she was poorly dressed and looking more like a seamstress or a washerwoman, for the first time she felt ashamed, and had no more assurance or boldness left. In her thoughts she began to call herself Nastya Kanavkina, instead of Vanda as she used.
"This way, please!" said the maid-servant, leading her to the private room. "The doctor will be here immediately.... Please, take a seat."
Vanda dropped into an easy chair.
"I'll say: 'Lend me ...'" she thought. "That's the right thing, because we are acquainted. But the maid must go out of the room.... It's awkward in front of the maid.... What is she standing18 there for?"
In five minutes the door opened and Finkel entered—a tall, swarthy, convert Jew, with fat cheeks and goggle-eyes. His cheeks, eyes, belly19, fleshy hips—were all so full, repulsive20, and coarse! At the Renaissance and the German club he used always to be a little drunk, to spend a lot of money on women, patiently put up with all their tricks—for instance, when Vanda poured the beer on his head, he only smiled and shook his finger at her—but now he looked dull and sleepy; he had the pompous21, chilly22 expression of a superior, and he was chewing something.
"What is the matter?" he asked, without looking at Vanda. Vanda glanced at the maid's serious face, at the blown-out figure of Finkel, who obviously did not recognise her, and she blushed.
"What's the matter?" the dentist repeated, irritated.
"To ... oth ache...." whispered Vanda.
"Ah ... which tooth ... where?"
Vanda remembered she had a tooth with a hole.
"At the bottom ... to the right," she said.
"H'm ... open your mouth."
Finkel frowned, held his breath, and began to work the aching tooth loose.
"Do you feel any pain?" he asked, picking at her tooth with some instrument.
"Yes, I do...." Vanda lied. "Shall I remind him?" she thought, "he'll be sure to remember.... But ... the maid ... what is she standing there for?"
Finkel suddenly snorted like a steam-engine straight into her mouth, and said:
"I don't advise you to have a stopping.... Anyhow the tooth is quite useless."
Again he picked at the tooth for a little, and soiled Vanda's lips and gums with his tobacco-stained fingers. Again he held his breath and dived into her mouth with something cold....
Vanda suddenly felt a terrible pain, shrieked23 and seized Finkel's hand....
"Never mind...." he murmured. "Don't be frightened.... This tooth isn't any use."
And his tobacco-stained fingers, covered with blood, held up the extracted tooth before her eyes. The maid came forward and put a bowl to her lips.
"Rinse24 your mouth with cold water at home," said Finkel. "That will make the blood stop."
He stood before her in the attitude of a man impatient to be left alone at last.
"Good-bye ..." she said, turning to the door.
"H'm! And who's to pay me for the work?" Finkel asked laughingly.
"Ah ... yes!" Vanda recollected, blushed and gave the dentist the rouble she had got for the turquoise ring.
When she came into the street she felt still more ashamed than before, but she was not ashamed of her poverty any more. Nor did she notice any more that she hadn't an elaborate hat or a modish jacket. She walked along the street spitting blood and each red spittle told her about her life, a bad, hard life; about the insults she had suffered and had still to suffer-to-morrow, a week, a year hence—her whole life, till death....
"Oh, how terrible it is!" she whispered. "My God, how terrible!"
But the next day she was at the Renaissance and she danced there. She wore a new, immense red hat, a new jacket à la mode and a pair of brown shoes. She was treated to supper by a young merchant from Kazan.
点击收听单词发音
1 honourable | |
adj.可敬的;荣誉的,光荣的 | |
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2 turquoise | |
n.绿宝石;adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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3 renaissance | |
n.复活,复兴,文艺复兴 | |
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4 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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5 vexed | |
adj.争论不休的;(指问题等)棘手的;争论不休的问题;烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 );使苦恼;使生气;详细讨论 | |
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6 recollected | |
adj.冷静的;镇定的;被回忆起的;沉思默想的v.记起,想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7 bracelet | |
n.手镯,臂镯 | |
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8 dub | |
vt.(以某种称号)授予,给...起绰号,复制 | |
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9 awfully | |
adv.可怕地,非常地,极端地 | |
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10 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
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11 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
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12 pauper | |
n.贫民,被救济者,穷人 | |
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13 dowdy | |
adj.不整洁的;过旧的 | |
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14 irresolutely | |
adv.优柔寡断地 | |
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15 luxurious | |
adj.精美而昂贵的;豪华的 | |
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16 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
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17 modish | |
adj.流行的,时髦的 | |
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18 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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19 belly | |
n.肚子,腹部;(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分,膛 | |
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20 repulsive | |
adj.排斥的,使人反感的 | |
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21 pompous | |
adj.傲慢的,自大的;夸大的;豪华的 | |
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22 chilly | |
adj.凉快的,寒冷的 | |
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23 shrieked | |
v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24 rinse | |
v.用清水漂洗,用清水冲洗 | |
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