He settled into one of the big chairs, closing his eyes to the wonders about him, and tried to think more soberly. He felt as though he must dull his quickened senses in some way. His unsheathed nerves quivered back from so direct a contact with life.
"Quiet, old man, quiet," he cautioned himself. "There 's a lot of things you wish to do in these next few days. So you must sober down—you must get a grip on yourself."
He rose to his feet determinedly14. He must work out of such moods as this. One of the first things for him to do was to buy a decent personal outfit15. As soon as he gave his mind a definite object upon which to work, his thoughts instantly cleared. It was just some such matter-of-fact task as this which he needed.
He went down-stairs, and stepping into a taxicab, was whisked to one of the large retail16 stores. He had no time to squander17 upon a tailor, but he was successful in securing a good fit in ready-made clothing. He bought several street suits, evening clothes, overcoats and hats, much silk underwear—a luxury he had always promised himself in that ghost future—and an extravagant18 supply of cravats19, gloves, socks, and odds20 and ends. He omitted nothing necessary to make him feel a well-dressed man so far as he could find it ready made. There was nothing conceited21 about Donaldson, nothing of the fop, but he enjoyed both the feeling and the appearance of rich garments. He hired a messenger boy who announced his name as Bobby and who followed along at his heels, collecting the bundles and carrying them out to the waiting cab.
He was a fresh cheeked youngster with a quick interest in things. He could n't make up his mind whether Donaldson was really an Indian prince or whether as a result of drinking he merely felt like one. As time passed and he saw that the man was neither an oriental nor drunk, his imagination then wavered between accepting him as an English duke or a member of the Vanderbilt family.
Donaldson perceived the keen interest the boy was taking in his purchases, saw the wonder in his eyes grow, based upon a faith that still accepted Aladdin as an ever-present possibility, and realized that Bobby was getting almost as much fun out of this game as he himself. He began to humor him further by consulting his taste in the matter of ties and waistcoats, though he found that the latter's sporting instincts led him to colors too pronounced to harmonize with his own ideas. Still he appreciated the fact that Bobby was indulging in almost as many thrills as though he were actually holding the purse. This became especially true when Donaldson allowed the boy to purchase for himself such articles as struck his fancy. As a matter of fact there was not so much difference in the present point of view of the man and the boy; it was to them both a fairy episode.
They lounged from one store to another, enjoying the lights, the colors, the beautiful cloths, choosing where they would with all the abandon of those with genii to serve them. Donaldson was indulging something more fundamental than his enjoyment22 of the things themselves; this was his first taste, as well as Bobby's, of gratifying desires without worry of the reckoning. His wishes were now stripped to bare wants. He was free of the skeleton hand of the Future which had so long held him prisoner—which had frightened him into depriving himself of all life's garnishings until his condition had been reduced to one of monastic simplicity23 without the monk's redeeming24 inspiration. He was no longer mocked by the thin cry of "Wait!"
He moved about this gay store world with a sense of kingly superiority. He listened indulgently to the idle chatter25 of the shop girls, the rattle26 of the cash boxes, and smiled at the seriousness with which this business of selling was pressed. What a tremendous ado they made of living, with year after year, month after month, day after day, looming27 endlessly before them! Not an act which they performed, even to the tying up of a bundle, ended in itself, but was one of an endless vista28 of acts. The burden of the Future was upon them. They drooped29, poor bloodless things, beneath the weight of the relentless30 days before them. And so this faded present was all their future, too. They saw nothing of the joyous31 world which spun32 around him bright as a new coin. They were dead, because of the weary days to come, to the magical brilliancy of the big arc-lights, to the humor and action of the crowd, to the quick shifts of colors; they were stupefied by this great flux of life which swept them on day after day to another day. Often unexpressed, this, but felt dumbly below the chatter and dry laughter. They waited, waited, circling about in a gray maelstrom33 until the grave sucked them in. He himself had been in the clutch of it. But that was yesterday.
To-day he saw all that lay unseen before their dulled vision—all the show with its million actors. He saw for example the pathos34 in the patient eyes of the old lady yonder—still waiting at eighty; he caught the flash of scarlet35 ribbon beyond, the silent message of the black one (another long waiting); the muffled36 laugh and the muffled oath; the careless eyes that tossed the coin to the counter, the sharp eyes that followed it, the dead ones that picked it up and threw it into the nickeled cash box which flew with it to its golden nest; the tread, the tread, the tread of a thousand feet, the beat, beat, beat of a thousand hearts. All these things he saw and heard and felt.
When he had fully37 replenished38 his wardrobe he still had several hours left to him. He remembered a unique book store just off Fifth Avenue at West Thirty-ninth Street which he had frequently passed, often lingering in front of the windows to admire quaint39 English prints. On cloudy days especially he had often made it a point to walk up there and breathe in the spirit of sunshine that he found in the green grass of the old hunting scenes and in the scarlet coats of the hearty-cheeked men riding to hounds upon their lean horses.
"Come on," he called enthusiastically to Bobby. "We 've just begun."
"Gee40!" gasped41 Bobby. "H'aint you spent it all? Have yer gut42 more left?"
"Lots. As much as I can spend until I die."
The boy's face grew eager.
"Say," he asked confidentially43. "Where 'd yer git it?"
"Earned it,—the most of it. Sweat for it and starved for it and suffered for it! And I earned with it the right to spend it, the right, I tell you!"
Bobby shrank back a little before such fierceness. The boy felt a faint suspicion of what had not before occurred to him: that the man was crazy. But the next second the gentle smile returned to soften44 the tense mouth, and the boy's fear vanished. No one could fear Donaldson when he smiled.
In front of the modest shop with its quaint sign swinging above the door, they paused. Donaldson found it difficult to believe that he now had the right to enter. To him this store had never been anything else but a part of the scenery of life, a part of the setting of some foreign world at which he gazed like a boy from the upper galleries of a theatre. He had rebelled at this, looking with some hostility45 at the well groomed46 men and women who accepted it with such assurance that it was for them alone, but now he realized the pettiness of that position. With a few unmortgaged dollars in his pocket, he was instantly one of them. He could stride in and use the quiet luxury of the place as his own.
For half an hour then, he browsed47 about the sun-lit shop, selecting here and there bits with which to brighten his room during the week. He picked out an engraving48 or two, several English prints which seemed to welcome him like old friends, and a marine49 in water color because of the golden blue in it. His bill exceeded that of the department stores, and Bobby confidently delivered himself of the opinion that he had been soaked, "good and plenty."
From here Donaldson began an extravagant course down Fifth Avenue that left the boy, who watched him closely every time he paid his bill, convinced that he had on his hands nothing short of an Arabian Prince such as his sister had told him of when he had thought her fooling. They wandered from book store to art store, to Tiffany's, to an antique shop back to another book store and then to where in his lean days he had seen a bit of Dresden that brought comfort to him through its dainty beauty. He took for his own now all the old familiar friends who had done what they could through store windows to brighten those days. They should be a part of him; share his week with him. There was that old hammered copper50 tray which in the sun glowed like a cooling ember; there was that hand-illumined volume of Keats which he had so long craved51; there was that vase of Cloisonne, that quaint piece of ivory browned with age, that old pewter mug reflecting the burden of its years in its sober surface. All these things he had long ago known as his own, and now he came to claim them.
"Mine, all mine!" he exclaimed to the boy. "And was n't it decent of them to wait for me?"
"They was waitin' for you all right," agreed Bobby. "They seen you comin'. They waits fer the easy marks."
"Yes," returned Donaldson, ignoring the latter's sarcasm52. "They saw me coming when yet I was a great way off. They knew me, so they waited. I told them all to wait and some day I would come to them."
"D' yuh mean that ivory monkey waited?"
"For nearly a year."
Bobby did not reply, but his respect for Donaldson fell several degrees.
"There is one thing more, boy," exclaimed Donaldson; "I need flowers."
He ordered sent to his room two dozen rich lipped roses, a half dozen potted plants, and a small conservatory53 of ferns. Then he started back to the hotel.
It took the boy several trips to carry the bundles upstairs even when they were piled to his eyes. When he finished, Donaldson held out his hand.
"I 've had a mighty54 pleasant afternoon with you," he said. "And I hope we 'll meet again. What's your number?"
"Thirty-four fifty-seven."
"Well, thirty-four fifty-seven, give us your hand in case we lose one another for good."
The boy gingerly extended his grimy paw. When he removed it, he found himself clutching a ten-dollar bill.
Donaldson remained in his room only long enough to arrange his treasures and slip into his evening clothes. There was too much outside to be enjoyed for him to appreciate yet the luxury of his indoor surroundings. He had a passion for people, for crowds of people. He had thought at first that he might attend the theatre, but he realized now that the stage puppets were but faint reflections of the stirring drama all about him—the playwright's plot less gripping than that in which he himself was the central figure. To pass through those doors would be more like stepping out of a theatre into the leaden reality of life as he had seen it before yesterday.
For an hour or more he rubbed shoulders with the press that was on its way to find relief from their own lives in the mimic55 lives of others behind the footlights. To him in the Now it was comedy enough to watch them as they filed in; it would have been an anticlimax56 to have gone further. He craved good music, but a search of the papers did not reveal any concert of note, so he sought one of the popular restaurants, and, choosing a table in a corner, devoted57 himself to the ordering of his dinner. He was hungry and took a childish delight in selecting without first studying the price list.
When he had concluded, he took a more careful survey of the room. His wandering gaze was checked by the profile of the woman whose eyes had haunted him ever since he had first seen them in Barstow's laboratory. It was Miss Arsdale, and opposite her sat a tall, thin-visaged young man. As the latter turned and presented a full face view, Donaldson was held by the peculiarity58 of his expression. His hot, beadlike eyes burned from a white sensitive face that was almost emaciated59; his thin lips were set as though in grim resolution; while even his brown hair refused to lend repose60 to the face, but, sticking out in cowlicks, added to the whole effect of nervousness still further exaggerated by the restless white hands. Over all, like a black veil, was an expression as of one haunted by a great fear. The man both repelled61 and interested Donaldson. There was a shiftiness about the eyes that excited suspicion, and yet there was in them a silent plea that asked for sympathy. Save for the eyes, the face had a certain poetic62 beauty due to its fine modeling and its savage63 intensity64. The longer Donaldson studied it, the more sympathy he had for it. He had the feeling that the fellow had gone through some such crisis as his own.
But it was difficult to define the girl's relationship to him. There was not the slightest trace of family resemblance between them, and yet the man was hardly of a type that she would choose for so intimate a friend as her presence here with him suggested. She did not talk much, but seemed rather to be on the alert to protect him as from some unseen danger which appeared to hang over him. She followed his eyes wherever they wandered, and clearly took but little pleasure in being here.
Donaldson found the oddly matched couple absorbing his interest not only in the other guests but also in his dinner. He finished in almost the undue65 haste with which ordinarily he devoured66 his daily lunch and with scarcely more appreciation67 of the superior quality of these richer dishes. With his black coffee he rolled a cigarette. The familiar old tobacco brought him back to himself again so that for a few minutes he was able to give himself up to the swirling68 strains of the Hungarian orchestra. But even through the delicious intoxication69 of the waltz, the personality of this girl asserted itself to him. He got the impression now that she herself was in some danger. He wished that he had asked Barstow more about her. She had not noticed him as yet. He had watched closely to see if she turned. As he studied her it seemed certain that she was by no means enjoying herself in her present company. If given half an opportunity he would go over and speak to her.
As he studied her it seemed certain that she was by no means enjoying herself in her present company
As he studied her it seemed certain that she was by no means enjoying herself in her present company
He wished to see her eyes again. He remembered them distinctly. They were not black—not gray, but black with the faintest trace of silver, like starlight on a deep pool. The whites were very clear and blue tinted70. Just then she raised her head and looked at him as though she had been called. At that moment the orchestra swept their strings71 in a minor72 and swirled73 off in a mystic dance like that of storm ghosts in the tree-tops. It caught him up with the girl and for a measure or so bore them along like leaves, in a new comradeship. To them the light laughter was hushed; to them the heavy smoke clouds vanished; to them the Babel of other personalities74 was no more. They two had been lifted out of this and carried hand in hand to some distant gypsy region. She was the first to shake herself free. She started, nodded pleasantly to him, and turned back to her companion, with a little shiver.
That was all, but it left Donaldson strangely moved. He paid his check at once and prepared to leave, hoping that in passing her table he might find his opportunity to stop a moment. But they too rose as he was getting into his coat and passed out ahead, the young man evidently trying to hurry her.
On the sidewalk Donaldson found them waiting at the curb75 for a big automobile76 which swooped77 out of the dark to meet them. Making a pretext78 of stopping to roll a cigarette, he paused. The girl stepped into the machine, but her companion instead of following at once gave an order to the chauffeur79. The latter left his seat and the girl expostulated. The chauffeur apparently80 hesitated, but, the younger man insisting, he hurried past Donaldson into the café. Unconsciously Donaldson moved nearer. He felt a foreboding of danger and a curious sense of responsibility. He caught a glimpse of the white face of the girl leaning forward towards her companion—heard her cry as the fellow stepped into the chauffeur's seat—and, yielding to some impulse, jumped to the running-board just as the man threw on the power.
The machine leaped forward with a shock that nearly tossed him off. To save himself he sprang to the empty seat beside the girl. The man at the wheel had apparently not noticed him; he had plenty to occupy his mind to control the machine which was tearing along at the rate of fifty miles an hour.
The girl leaned forward and gripped Donaldson's arm.
"You must stop him," she said. "He has lost himself again! Do you understand? You must stop him!"
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1
syrup
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| n.糖浆，糖水 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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3
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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poignancy
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| n.辛酸事，尖锐 | |
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musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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6
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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7
whetted
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| v.（在石头上）磨（刀、斧等）( whet的过去式和过去分词 )；引起，刺激（食欲、欲望、兴趣等） | |
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8
marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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9
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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flux
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| n.流动；不断的改变 | |
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stimulant
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| n.刺激物，兴奋剂 | |
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13
brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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determinedly
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| adv.决意地；坚决地，坚定地 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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16
retail
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| v./n.零售；adv.以零售价格 | |
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squander
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| v.浪费，挥霍 | |
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extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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cravats
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| n.（系在衬衫衣领里面的）男式围巾( cravat的名词复数 ) | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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redeeming
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| 补偿的，弥补的 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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26
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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27
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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29
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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relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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maelstrom
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| n.大乱动；大漩涡 | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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36
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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replenished
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| 补充( replenish的过去式和过去分词 )； 重新装满 | |
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39
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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41
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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42
gut
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| n.[pl.]胆量；内脏；adj.本能的；vt.取出内脏 | |
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43
confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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44
soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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45
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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46
groomed
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| v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的过去式和过去分词 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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47
browsed
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| v.吃草( browse的过去式和过去分词 )；随意翻阅；（在商店里）随便看看；（在计算机上）浏览信息 | |
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48
engraving
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| n.版画；雕刻（作品）；雕刻艺术；镌版术v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的现在分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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49
marine
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| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
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50
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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51
craved
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| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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52
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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53
conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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54
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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mimic
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| v.模仿，戏弄；n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
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56
anticlimax
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| n.令人扫兴的结局；突降法 | |
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57
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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58
peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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59
emaciated
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| adj.衰弱的，消瘦的 | |
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60
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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61
repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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62
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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64
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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65
undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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66
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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67
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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68
swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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69
intoxication
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| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
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70
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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71
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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72
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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73
swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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74
personalities
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| n. 诽谤，（对某人容貌、性格等所进行的）人身攻击； 人身攻击；人格, 个性, 名人( personality的名词复数 ) | |
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75
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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77
swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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79
chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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