It is six o'clock in the evening; I am taking Rose along the boulevards, which are so interesting at this time of the year. As usual, I am astonished at everything that does not astonish her. I look at her as she walks, beautiful and impassive; I keep step with her stride; and my thoughts hover1 to and fro between this life of hers which refuses to take form and my ideals which are gradually fading out of existence.
Alas2, the days pass over her without arousing either desire or weariness! From time to time, I suggest some simple, trifling3 work for her. But, whether the task be mental or material, whether the duty be light or complex, she acquiesces4 in the suggestion only to make it easier for her to put it aside later, gently and as a matter of course, like tired arms laying down a burden too heavy for them.
This evening, I am merciful to her indolence. Going through the hall of her boarding-house just now,
I saw the long table laid, at which the boarders meet. And I think of those destinies which have been linked with Rose's during the past fortnight, while I am still unable to obtain a clear idea of any one of them from her involved and incoherent accounts.
The house, which is in the old-fashioned style, has at the back a sort of glass-covered balcony overhanging the garden of the house next door. Here the boarders take their coffee after meals, while the proprietress, a gentle, amiable5 creature, strives to establish some sort of intimacy6 among them, to create an imaginary family out of these strangers who have come from all parts of the world with varying objects and for diverse reasons.
I know from experience the surprises latent in people like these. To look at them, one would set them down as belonging to stereotyped8 models: invalids9, travellers, globe-trotters, runaways10 or students, as the case may be. I call up figures from my own recollection and describe them to Rose to encourage her to tell me her impressions. Stray reminiscences marshal themselves, images rise before my eyes, obliterating11 the things and people around me, and a vision appears over which my memory plays like a reflection in a sheet of water. I see a
long house and its white-and-green front mirrored in a clear lake. A man and a woman arrive there at the same time; and I tell Rose the story of the two old wanderers:
"It was very curious. Imagine those two people unknown to each other, leaving the same country at about the same age and making the same journeys in opposite directions. When I met them, they were two grey-haired, wizened12 figures, with the same short-sighted eyes blinking behind the same kind of spectacles. It amused me from the first to look at them as one and united beforehand, at a time when they were still unacquainted. I watched them at the meals which brought them closer together daily, as it were perusing13 each other with the pleasure of finding themselves to be alike, as though they were two copies of the same guide-book. In their equally commonplace minds, recollections took the place of ideas. To them, life was a sort of long classification; they recognised no other duty but that of taking notes and cataloguing. I don't know if they saw some advantage one day in uniting for good, or if they began at last to think that there are other roads to follow in the world beside those which lead to lakes, cities, waterfalls and mountains. At
any rate, after a few weeks, they were sharing the same room; and we learnt that in future they meant to live side by side."
"Had they got married?"
"No. And, though they performed a very natural action with the utmost simplicity14, this was certainly not due to loftiness of soul or breadth of mind. But one felt that their knowledge of the manners and morals of other civilizations had simplified their moral outlook, just as their actual physical outlook had been dimmed through seeing nature under so many aspects."
Rose began to laugh:
"There is nothing of that kind at the boarding-house," she said. "For the moment, we have no old people: nothing but students, two American women, a Spanish lady...."
Then she hesitated a little and added:
"There's an artist, too, an artist who has begun to paint my portrait."
"Your portrait! And you never told me?"
I am interrupted by a violent movement from Rose. She has turned round and, in the gathering15 dusk, her whirling umbrella comes down furiously on a man's hat, smashing it in and knocking it off his
head. A gentleman is standing16 before us, very well-dressed and looking very uncomfortable. He stammers17 out a vague excuse and tries to escape, but the indignant girl addresses him noisily. An altercation18 follows; the loafers stop to listen; a crowd gathers round us; and a policeman hurries towards us from the other side of the road. Fortunately, an empty cab passes; and I just have time to jump in, followed by Rose, who continues to brandish19 a threatening umbrella through the window.
Then at last I obtain an explanation of the disturbance20. It appears that, without my noticing it, the man had been following us for an hour; and his silent homage21 had ended by incensing22 the girl.
I kiss her at the door of the boarding-house and walk back thoughtfully through the streets, reflecting on the surprises which that uncivilised character holds in store for me.
2
Rose had perhaps insulted a man who was simply taking pleasure in admiring her, I thought to myself. What did she know of his intentions? In any case,
is not a silent look enough to keep importunity23 at a distance?
Generally speaking, those who go after us in this way because of the swing of our hips24, or the mass of hair gleaming on our neck, or a shapely shoe under a lifted skirt, are uninteresting; and among all the coarse, silly or timid admirers whom a woman can encounter in the street there are perhaps one or two at most who will leave an ineffaceable mark on her memory. But why not always admit the most charitable construction?
3
I had been wandering a long time at random25. Feeling a little tired, I turned into the Parc Monceau, at the time when it was too late for the mothers and babies and too early for the lovers' invasion. I sat down by the transparent26 lake which so prettily27 reflects its diadem28 of arbours. A young willow29 drooped30 in gentle sadness over the face of the water; and white ducks glided31 past me in the evening mist. The waning32 blue light mingled33 with the pale vapour that rises over Paris at nightfall; and all this made a mauve sky behind the dark trees. It was soft and
melancholy34, but not grave; and I lingered on, amid the beauty of the scene, rapt in some woman's reverie. Then a lamp was lighted behind the bench on which I sat; and on the ground before me I saw a shadow beside my own. I understood and did not turn my head.
A man had followed me. I felt his eyes resting heavily on my profile, on my cheek and on my ungloved hands. He was evidently going to speak. Annoyed at this, I took a little volume from my pocket and, to protect my solitude35, began to read.
But soon I guessed that he was reading with me; and my mind thus mingling36 with a stranger's passed over the words without quite following them. His persistency37 angered me; and I closed the book.
Then he said to me:
"Yes, you are very beautiful."
The words fell into my soul with a disquieting38 resonance39. I rose with a flushed face and then hesitated. It was certainly one of those gross and lying pieces of flattery which we all of us hear at times. Nevertheless, I resisted the instinctive40 impulse that would have made me move away. Is not modesty41 in such a case merely another stratagem43 of our coquetry?
We flee, the man pursues and the wrong impression is confirmed.
Standing in front of him, I frankly44 turned my eyes on his. Then he softly repeated the same words.
Was it the exquisite45 modulation46 of his voice? Or again were the gentle, friendly words the sudden revelation of a troubled life, a sensitive soul ready to pour itself out in a single phrase and longing7 to crystallise itself in one unparalleled second? They surprised me, those words of his, they seemed to me new words, grave words, because I had not believed that it was possible to speak them in that way to a stranger, to speak them in a voice that asked for nothing.
My whole attitude must have betrayed my twofold astonishment47. My eyes questioned his. Their expression underwent no change. He was really asking for nothing. Then I smiled and answered, simply:
"I thank you. A woman is always glad to be told that."
Taking off his hat, he rose and bowed. I moved away with a slight feeling of discomfort48: would he commit the stupidity of following me? Had I made
a mistake? No, he resumed his seat. He had not blundered either.
4
When two people do not know each other and will not meet again, the words exchanged between them, if they are not mere42 commonplaces, become fraught49 with a strange significance and leave behind them a trail of melancholy like a mourning-veil; it is the surprise of those voices which speak to each other and will never be heard again, the fleeting50 encounter between glance and glance, the smile which knows not where to rest and yet would fain enrich the remembrance with a ray of kindness.
The essential image of a human life is contained in a moment like that. It awakens51, hesitates, seeks, thinks that it has found, speaks a word and relapses into nothingness.
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1
hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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acquiesces
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的第三人称单数 ) | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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8
stereotyped
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| adj.(指形象、思想、人物等)模式化的 | |
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9
invalids
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| 病人，残疾者( invalid的名词复数 ) | |
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runaways
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| （轻而易举的）胜利( runaway的名词复数 ) | |
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11
obliterating
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| v.除去( obliterate的现在分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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wizened
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| adj.凋谢的；枯槁的 | |
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13
perusing
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的现在分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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14
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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15
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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17
stammers
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| n.口吃，结巴( stammer的名词复数 )v.结巴地说出( stammer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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brandish
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| v.挥舞，挥动；n.挥动，挥舞 | |
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disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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incensing
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| 焚香，烧香（incense的现在分词形式） | |
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importunity
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| n.硬要，强求 | |
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24
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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25
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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26
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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27
prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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28
diadem
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| n.王冠，冕 | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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30
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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32
waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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33
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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35
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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36
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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37
persistency
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| n. 坚持(余辉, 时间常数) | |
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38
disquieting
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| adj.令人不安的，令人不平静的v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的现在分词 ) | |
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39
resonance
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| n.洪亮；共鸣；共振 | |
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40
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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41
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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42
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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43
stratagem
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| n.诡计，计谋 | |
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44
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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45
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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46
modulation
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| n.调制 | |
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47
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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48
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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49
fraught
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| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
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50
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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51
awakens
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的第三人称单数 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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