A stolid2 British lift lifted him down to the ground floor of the establishment in something short of five minutes. Pausing in the office long enough to settle his bill and leave instructions to have his luggage conveyed to the boat-train, he received with entire equanimity3 the affable benediction4 of the clerk, in whose eyes he still figured as that radiant creature, an American millionaire; and passed on to the lobby, where he surrendered hat, coat and stick to the cloak-room attendant, ere entering the dining-room.
The hour was a trifle early for a London dinner, the handsome room but moderately filled with patrons. Kirkwood absorbed the fact unconsciously and without displeasure; the earlier, the better: he was determined5 to consume his last civilized6 meal (as he chose to consider it) at his serene7 leisure, to live fully8 his ebbing9 moments in the world to which he was born, to drink to its cloying10 dregs one ultimate draught11 of luxury.
A benignant waiter bowed him into a chair by a corner table in juxtaposition12 with an open window, through which, swaying imperceptibly the closed hangings, were wafted13 gentle gusts14 of the London evening's sweet, damp breath.
Kirkwood settled himself with an inaudible sigh of pleasure. He was dining, for the last time in Heaven knew how long, in a first-class restaurant.
With a deferential15 flourish the waiter brought him the menu-card. He had served in his time many an "American, millionaire"; he had also served this Mr. Kirkwood, and respected him as one exalted16 above the run of his kind, in that he comprehended the art of dining.
Fifteen minutes later the waiter departed rejoicing, his order complete.
To distract a conscience whispering of extravagance, Kirkwood lighted a cigarette.
The room was gradually filling with later arrivals; it was the most favored restaurant in London, and, despite the radiant costumes of the women, its atmosphere remained sedate17 and restful.
A cab clattered18 down the side street on which the window opened.
At a near-by table a woman laughed, quietly happy. Incuriously Kirkwood glanced her way. She was bending forward, smiling, flattering her escort with the adoration19 of her eyes. They were lovers alone in the wilderness20 of the crowded restaurant. They seemed very happy.
Kirkwood was conscious of a strange pang21 of emotion. It took him some time to comprehend that it was envy.
He was alone and lonely. For the first time he realized that no woman had ever looked upon him as the woman at the adjoining table looked upon her lover. He had found time to worship but one mistress—his art.
And he was renouncing22 her.
He was painfully conscious of what he had missed, had lost—or had not yet found: the love of woman.
The sensation was curious—new, unique in his experience.
His cigarette burned down to his fingers as he sat pondering. Abstractedly, he ground its fire out in an ash-tray.
The waiter set before him a silver tureen, covered.
He sat up and began to consume his soup, scarce doing it justice. His dream troubled him—his dream of the love of woman.
From a little distance his waiter regarded him, with an air of disappointment. In the course of an hour and a half he awoke, to discover the attendant in the act of pouring very hot and black coffee from a bright silver pot into a demi-tasse of fragile porcelain23. Kirkwood slipped a single lump of sugar into the cup, gave over his cigar-case to be filled, then leaned back, deliberately24 lighting25 a long and slender panetela as a preliminary to a last lingering appreciation26 of the scene of which he was a part.
He reviewed it through narrowed eyelids27, lazily; yet with some slight surprise, seeming to see it with new vision, with eyes from which scales of ignorance had dropped.
This long and brilliant dining-hall, with its quiet perfection of proportion and appointment, had always gratified his love of the beautiful; to-night it pleased him to an unusual degree. Yet it was the same as ever; its walls tinted28 a deep rose, with their hangings of dull cloth-of-gold, its lights discriminatingly clustered and discreetly29 shaded, redoubled in half a hundred mirrors, its subdued30 shimmer31 of plate and glass, its soberly festive32 assemblage of circumspect33 men and women splendidly gowned, its decorously muted murmur34 of voices penetrated35 and interwoven by the strains of a hidden string orchestra—caressed his senses as always, yet with a difference. To-night he saw it a room populous36 with lovers, lovers insensibly paired, man unto woman attentive37, woman of man regardful.
He had never understood this before. This much he had missed in life.
It seemed hard to realize that one must forego it all for ever.
Presently he found himself acutely self-conscious. The sensation puzzled him; and without appearing to do so, he traced it from effect to cause; and found the cause in a woman—a girl, rather, seated at a table the third removed from him, near the farther wall of the room.
Too considerate, and too embarrassed, to return her scrutiny38 openly, look for look, he yet felt sure that, however temporarily, he was become the object of her intent interest.
Idly employed with his cigar, he sipped39 his coffee. In time aware that she had turned her attention elsewhere, he looked up.
At first he was conscious of an effect of disappointment. She was nobody that he knew, even by reputation. She was simply a young girl, barely out of her teens—if as old as that phrase would signify. He wondered what she had found in him to make her think him worth so long a study; and looked again, more keenly curious.
With this second glance, appreciation stirred the artistic40 side of his nature, that was already grown impatient of his fretted41 mood. The slender and girlish figure, posed with such absolute lack of intrusion against a screen of rose and gilt42, moved him to critical admiration43. The tinted glow of shaded candles caught glistening44 on the spun45 gold of her fair hair, and enhanced the fine pallor of her young shoulders. He saw promise, and something more than promise, in her face, its oval something dimmed by warm shadows that unavailingly sought to blend youth and beauty alike into the dull, rich background.
In the sheer youth of her (he realized) more than in aught else, lay her chiefest charm. She could be little more than a child, indeed, if he were to judge her by the purity of her shadowed eyes and the absence of emotion in the calm and direct look which presently she turned upon him who sat wondering at the level, penciled darkness of her brows.
At length aware that she had surprised his interest, Kirkwood glanced aside—coolly deliberate, lest she should detect in his attitude anything more than impersonal46 approval.
A slow color burned his cheeks. In his temples there rose a curious pulsing.
After a while she drew his gaze again, imperiously—herself all unaware47 of the havoc48 she was wreaking49 on his temperament50.
He could have fancied her distraught, cloaking an unhappy heart with placid51 brow and gracious demeanor52; but such a conception matched strangely her glowing youth and spirit. What had she to do with Care? What concern had Black Care, whose gaunt shape in sable53 shrouds54 had lurked55 at his shoulder all the evening, despite his rigid56 preoccupation, with a being as charmingly flushed with budding womanhood as this girl?
"Eighteen?" he hazarded. "Eighteen, or possibly nineteen, dining at the Pless in a ravishing dinner-gown, and—unhappy? Oh, hardly—not she!"
Yet the impression haunted him, and ere long he was fain to seek confirmation57 or denial of it in the manner of her escort.
The latter sat with back to Kirkwood, cutting a figure as negative as his snug58 evening clothes. One could surmise59 little from a fleshy thick neck, a round, glazed60 bald spot, a fringe of grizzled hair, and two bright red ears.
Calendar?
Somehow the fellow did suggest Kirkwood's caller of the afternoon. The young man could not have said precisely61 how, for he was unfamiliar62 with the aspect of that gentleman's back. None the less the suggestion persisted.
By now, a few of the guests, theater-bound, for the most part, were leaving. Here and there a table stood vacant, that had been filled, cloth tarnished63, chairs disarranged: in another moment to be transformed into its pristine64 brilliance65 under the deft66 attentions of the servitors.
Down an aisle67, past the table at which the girl was sitting, came two, making toward the lobby; the man, a slight and meager68 young personality, in the lead. Their party had attracted Kirkwood's notice as they entered; why, he did not remember; but it was in his mind that then they had been three. Instinctively69 he looked at the table they had left—one placed at some distance from the girl, and hidden from her by an angle in the wall. It appeared that the third member had chosen to dally70 a few moments over his tobacco and a liqueur-brandy. Kirkwood could see him plainly, lounging in his chair and fumbling71 the stem of a glass: a heavy man, of somber72 habit, his black and sullen73 brows lowering and thoughtful above a face boldly handsome.
The woman of the trio was worthy74 of closer attention. Some paces in the wake of her lack-luster esquire, she was making a leisurely75 progress, trailing the skirts of a gown magnificent beyond dispute, half concealed76 though it was by the opera cloak whose soft folds draped her shoulders. Slowly, carrying her head high, she approached, insolent77 eyes reviewing the room from beneath their heavy lids; a metallic78 and mature type of dark beauty, supremely79 self-confident and self-possessed.
Men turned involuntarily to look after her, not altogether in undiluted admiration.
In the act of passing behind the putative80 Calendar, she paused momentarily, bending as if to gather up her train. Presumably the action disturbed her balance; she swayed a little, and in the effort to recover, rested the tips of her gloved fingers upon the edge of the table. Simultaneously81 (Kirkwood could have sworn) a single word left her lips, a word evidently pitched for the ear of the hypothetical Calendar alone. Then she swept on, imperturbable82, assured.
To the perplexed83 observer it was indubitably evident that some communication had passed from the woman to the man. Kirkwood saw the fat shoulders of the girl's companion stiffen84 suddenly as the woman's hand rested at his elbow; as she moved away, a little rippling85 shiver was plainly visible in the muscles of his back, beneath his coat—mute token of relaxing tension. An instant later one plump and mottled hand was carelessly placed where the woman's had been; and was at once removed with fingers closed.
To the girl, watching her face covertly86, Kirkwood turned for clue to the incident. He made no doubt that she had observed the passage; proof of that one found in her sudden startling pallor (of indignation?) and in her eyes, briefly87 alight with some inscrutable emotion, though quickly veiled by lowered lashes88. Slowly enough she regained89 color and composure, while her vis-à-vis sat motionless, head inclined as if in thought.
Abruptly91 the man turned in his chair to summon a waiter, and exposed his profile. Kirkwood was in no wise amazed to recognize Calendar—a badly frightened Calendar now, however, and hardly to be identified with the sleek92, glib93 fellow who had interviewed Kirkwood in the afternoon. His flabby cheeks were ashen94 and trembling, and upon the back of his chair the fat white fingers were drumming incessantly95 an inaudible tattoo96 of shattered nerves.
"Scared silly!" commented Kirkwood. "Why?" Having spoken to his waiter, Calendar for some seconds raked the room with quick glances, as if seeking an acquaintance. Presumably disappointed, he swung back to face the girl, bending forward to reach her ears with accents low-pitched and confidential97. She, on her part, fell at once attentive, grave and responsive. Perhaps a dozen sentences passed between them. At the outset her brows contracted and she shook her head in gentle dissent98; whereupon Calendar's manner became more imperative99. Gradually, unwillingly100, she seemed to yield consent. Once she caught her breath sharply, and, infected by her companion's agitation101, sat back, color fading again in the round young cheeks.
Kirkwood's waiter put in an inopportune appearance with the bill. The young man paid it. When he looked up again Calendar had swung squarely about in his chair. His eye encountered Kirkwood's. He nodded pleasantly. Temporarily confused, Kirkwood returned the nod.
In a twinkling he had repented102; Calendar had left his chair and was wending his way through the tables toward Kirkwood's. Reaching it, he paused, offering the hand of genial103 fellowship. Kirkwood accepted it half-heartedly (what else was he to do?) remarking at the same time that Calendar had recovered much of his composure. There was now a normal coloring in the heavily jowled countenance104, with less glint of fear in the quick, dark eyes; and Calendar's hand, even if moist and cold, no longer trembled. Furthermore it was immediately demonstrated that his impudence105 had not deserted106 him.
"Why, Kirkwood, my dear fellow!" he crowed—not so loudly as to attract attention, but in a tone assumed to divert suspicion, should he be overheard. "This is great luck, you know—to find you here."
"Is it?" returned Kirkwood coolly. He disengaged his fingers.
The pink plump face was contorted in a furtive107 grimace108 of deprecation. Without waiting for permission Calendar dropped into the vacant chair.
"My dear sir," he proceeded, unabashed, "I throw myself upon your mercy."
"The devil you do!"
"I must. I'm in the deuce of a hole, and there's no one I know here besides yourself. I—I—"
Kirkwood saw fit to lead him on; partly because, out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of the girl's unconcealed suspense109. "Go on, please, Mr. Calendar. You throw yourself on a total stranger's mercy because you're in the deuce of a hole; and—?"
"It's this way; I'm called away on urgent business imperative business. I must go at once. My daughter is with me. My daughter! Think of my embarrassment110; I can not leave her here, alone, nor can I permit her to go home unprotected."
Calendar paused in anxiety.
"That's easily remedied, then," suggested Kirkwood.
"How?"
"Put her in a cab at the door."
"I ... No. The devil! I couldn't think of it. You won't understand. I—"
"I do not understand,—" amended111 the younger man politely.
Calendar compressed his lips nervously112. It was plain that the man was quivering with impatience113 and half-mad with excitement. He held quiet only long enough to regain90 his self-control and take counsel with his prudence114.
"It is impossible, Mr. Kirkwood. I must ask you to be generous and believe me."
"Very well; for the sake of the argument, I do believe you, Mr. Calendar."
"Hell!" exploded the elder man in an undertone. Then swiftly, stammering115 in his haste: "I can't let Dorothy accompany me to the door," he declared. "She—I—I throw myself upon your mercy!"
"What—again?"
"The truth—the truth is, if you will have it, that I am in danger of arrest the moment I leave here. If my daughter is with me, she will have to endure the shame and humiliation—"
"Then why place her in such a position?" Kirkwood demanded sharply.
Calendar's eyes burned, incandescent116 with resentment117. Offended, he offered to rise and go, but changed his mind and sat tight in hope.
"I beg of you, sir—"
"One moment, Mr. Calendar."
Abruptly Kirkwood's weathercock humor shifted—amusement yielding to intrigued118 interest. After all, why not oblige the fellow? What did anything matter, now? What harm could visit him if he yielded to this corpulent adventurer's insistence119? Both from experience and observation he knew this for a world plentifully120 peopled by soldiers of fortune, contrivers of snares121 and pitfalls122 for the feet of the unwary. On the other hand, it is axiomatic123 that a penniless man is perfectly124 safe anywhere. Besides, there was the girl to be considered.
Kirkwood considered her, forthwith. In the process thereof, his eyes sought her, perturbed125. Their glances clashed. She looked away hastily, crimson126 to her temples.
Instantly the conflict between curiosity and caution, inclination127 and distrust, was at an end. With sudden compliance128, the young man rose.
"I shall be most happy to be of service to your daughter, Mr. Calendar," he said, placing the emphasis with becoming gravity. And then, the fat adventurer leading the way, Kirkwood strode across the room—wondering somewhat at himself, if the whole truth is to be disclosed.
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收听单词发音
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1
drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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2
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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3
equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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7
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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8
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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ebbing
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的现在分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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cloying
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| adj.甜得发腻的 | |
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11
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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juxtaposition
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| n.毗邻，并置，并列 | |
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wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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15
deferential
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| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
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16
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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18
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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21
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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22
renouncing
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| v.声明放弃( renounce的现在分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
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23
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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24
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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25
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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27
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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28
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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29
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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30
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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31
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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32
festive
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| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
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circumspect
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| adj.慎重的，谨慎的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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35
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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36
populous
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| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
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37
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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38
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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39
sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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41
fretted
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| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
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42
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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43
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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44
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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45
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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46
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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47
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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48
havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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49
wreaking
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| 诉诸（武力），施行（暴力），发（脾气）( wreak的现在分词 ) | |
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50
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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51
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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52
demeanor
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| n.行为；风度 | |
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53
sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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54
shrouds
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| n.裹尸布( shroud的名词复数 )；寿衣；遮蔽物；覆盖物v.隐瞒( shroud的第三人称单数 )；保密 | |
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55
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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56
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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57
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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58
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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59
surmise
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| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
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60
glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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61
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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62
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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63
tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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64
pristine
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| adj.原来的，古时的，原始的，纯净的，无垢的 | |
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65
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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meager
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| adj.缺乏的，不足的，瘦的 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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dally
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| v.荒废(时日)，调情 | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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putative
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| adj.假定的 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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84
stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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covertly
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| adv.偷偷摸摸地 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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glib
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| adj.圆滑的，油嘴滑舌的 | |
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ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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tattoo
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| n.纹身，(皮肤上的)刺花纹；vt.刺花纹于 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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dissent
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| n./v.不同意，持异议 | |
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imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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111
Amended
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| adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
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112
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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113
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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114
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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115
stammering
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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116
incandescent
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| adj.遇热发光的， 白炽的，感情强烈的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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118
intrigued
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| adj.好奇的，被迷住了的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的过去式)；激起…的兴趣或好奇心；“intrigue”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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119
insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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120
plentifully
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| adv. 许多地，丰饶地 | |
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snares
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| n.陷阱( snare的名词复数 )；圈套；诱人遭受失败（丢脸、损失等）的东西；诱惑物v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的第三人称单数 ) | |
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122
pitfalls
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| （捕猎野兽用的）陷阱( pitfall的名词复数 )； 意想不到的困难，易犯的错误 | |
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123
axiomatic
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| adj.不需证明的，不言自明的 | |
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124
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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125
perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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126
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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compliance
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| n.顺从；服从；附和；屈从 | |
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