Durant started; he was alone with the Colonel and the wine, and had just made the discovery that when the Colonel's face was at rest he was very like an owl2.
"To-morrow we'll go exploring together. I should like to take you over my little property."
As a matter of fact, the property was considerable; but Durant noticed that its owner applied3 the endearing diminutive4 to every object that appealed specially5 to his egotism. It was a peculiarity6 of the Colonel that he was ready to melt with affection over the things that belonged to himself, and was roused almost to ferocity by whatever interested other people.
"I dare say it will be good for you to see some fresh faces and to be put—in touch—in touch with fresh ideas."
You would have said that Durant had been sitting for seven years with his feet on the fender while the Colonel roamed the world.
Durant agreed. He was being hypnotized by the hooked nose and the round hazel eyes with their radiating wrinkles. He had been five hours in Coton Manor7, it felt like five years, and the evening had only just begun.
His host stared at him, fidgeted nervously8 for five minutes, plunged9 into nirvana again, emerged, and with a shamefaced smile suggested that the ladies [Pg 237] would be getting impatient. In the drawing-room his nervousness increased; he went on like a person distracted with an intolerable desire; he sat down and got up again; he pirouetted; he played with ornaments10; he wandered uneasily about the room, opening and shutting windows, setting pictures straight, and lighting11 candles; he was a most uncomfortable little Colonel of militia12. And with every movement he revolved13 nearer and nearer to a certain table. The table stood in the background; Durant recognized it as the kind that opens and discloses the magic circle, the green land of whist. The table had a sweet and sinful fascination14 for the Colonel.
Durant had just pulled himself together, and determined15 that he could bear it if they didn't play some infernal game, if they didn't play whist. And now it seemed that whist was what they played, that whist of course was what Mrs. Fazakerly was there for. The Colonel looked from the table to the group, from the group to the table; there was calculation in his eye, an almost sensual anticipation16. He seemed to be saying to himself, "One, two, three, four; the perfect number." Durant affected17 abstraction, and turning to the window gazed out into the dim green landscape. His host's eye followed him; it marked him down as the fourth; it hovered18 round him, dubious19, vacillating, troubled. The Colonel had still some torturing remnants of a conscience; he had read the deep repugnance20 on the young man's face, and hesitated to sacrifice a guest on his first night. He turned helplessly to Mrs. Fazakerly, who put an end to his struggle.
She touched Durant lightly on the shoulder. "Come," she murmured gently, like a fate that pitied while she compelled. "Come. He wants his little game."
It was as if she had said, "My poor dear sacrificial [Pg 238] lamb, he wants his little holocaust21. There is no help for it. Let me show you the way to the altar."
"Frida!" It was the Colonel who spoke22.
Miss Tancred spread open the table with the air of a high priestess, hieratic and resigned. The Colonel approached it, a lighted candle in each hand. For one moment of time the egotist seemed to be rapt beyond himself; he was serving the great god Whist. Cards were the Colonel's passion; he loved them with delight that was madness, madness that was delight. Cards for cards' sake, the pure passion, the high, immaculate abstraction; no gambling23, mind you; no playing for penny points; no pandering24 to a morbid25 appetite for excitement. With cards in his hand the Colonel was transformed. He might be wedded26 to matter of fact, which is the grossest form of materialism27; but at the green table he appeared as a devotee of the transcendent, the science of sciences, Whist.
Durant curled his long legs under the table and prepared for a miserable28 evening, while the Colonel's face beamed on him from between two candles.
"Durant," he said, "you are an acquisition. If it wasn't for you we should have to play with a dummy29."
Durant replied mournfully that he was not great at the game, but he thought he was about as good as a dummy.
"Don't you be too sure of that," said Mrs. Fazakerly. "There's a great deal to be said for the dummy. He isn't frivolous30, he never revokes31, he never loses his little temper, and he plays the game."
"Yes, I think he can show you some very pretty science, Durant." The Colonel's mustache and eyebrows32 and all the wrinkles on his face were agitated33, but he made no sound. The owl was pluming34 all his little feathers, was fluttering with mysterious mirth. [Pg 239] Oh! he took the lady's humor, he could enter into the thing, he could keep the ball going.
"You see," Mrs. Fazakerly explained, "he has an intelligence behind him."
"A dummy inspired by Colonel Tancred would be terrible to encounter," said Durant.
Miss Tancred lifted her eyes from the cards she was shuffling36. Again he felt her gaze resting upon him for a moment, the same comprehensive, disconcerting gaze. This time it had something pathetic and appealing in it, as if she implored37 him to take no further notice of her father's fatuity38.
"Confound the old fellow," he said to himself; "why does he make me say these things?"
When they began Durant saw a faint hope of release in his own stupidity, his obvious unfitness for the game. By a studied carelessness, an artful exaggeration of his deficiencies, he courted humiliation39, ejection in favor of the dummy. But, as it happened, either his evil destiny had endowed him with her own detestable skill, or else his stupidity was supreme40. Trying with might and main to lose, he kept on winning with horrible persistency41. He was on the winning side; he was made one with the terrible Miss Tancred; and for the first half hour he found a certain painful interest in watching that impenetrable creature.
Miss Tancred played the game; she played, now with the rhythm and precision of a calculating machine, now with the blind impetus42 and swoop43 of some undeviating natural force. It was not will, it was not intelligence; it was something beyond and above them both, infinitely44 more detached, more monotonous45 and cold; something independent even of her desire. Durant could see that she had as little love for the game as he had. She played because she always had played, by [Pg 240] habit, a second nature that had ousted46 the first. Her skill was so unerring that for Durant it robbed the game of its last lingering attraction, the divine element of chance. One tinge47 of consciousness, one touch of fire, and it would have been sheer devilry. As it was he could have been sorry for her, though in her infinite apathy48 she seemed to be placed beyond his pity and her own. With no movement save in her delicate sallow fingers, she sat there like an incarnate49 Ennui50, the terrible genius of the house.
The Colonel, though losing rapidly, was in high good humor. He displayed a chivalrous51 forbearance with the weakness of Mrs. Fazakerly, who committed every folly52 and indiscretion possible to a partner. He bowed when he dealt to her; he bowed when she dealt to him; he bowed when she revoked53.
"'To err35 is human,'" said the Colonel.
"'To forgive, divine,'" said Mrs. Fazakerly, smiling at Durant, as much as to say, "You observe his appropriation54 of the supreme r?le?"
And indeed the Colonel bore himself with some consciousness of his metaphysical dignity. He was pleased with everybody, pleased with Durant, pleased with Mrs. Fazakerly, most particularly pleased with Colonel Tancred, late of the Wickshire militia.
And as the game wore on Durant realized the full horror of his position. The gallant55 Colonel was not going to leave that table till he had won, and he could never win. He frowned on Durant's proposal to change partners; he would accept no easy victory. They were in for a night of it. Durant was in torment56, but he sat on, fascinated by the abominable57 beauty of his own play; he sat with every nerve on edge, listening to the intolerable tick of time.
Ten o'clock. He thought it had been midnight. He [Pg 241] passed his hand over his face, as if to feel if it were stiffening58 in its expression of agony.
And all the time Mrs. Fazakerly kept on raising and dropping her eyeglass. Now and then she gave him a look that plumbed59 the sources of his suffering. It seemed to recommend her own courageous60 attitude, to say, "My dear young man, we are being bored to death; you know it, and I know it. But for Goodness' sake, let us die with pleasant faces, since we can but die."
And Durant felt that she was right. He fell into her mood, and passed from it into a sort of delirium61. There could be no end to it; his partner's pitiless hands would never have done shuffling the cards. Black and red, red and black, they danced before him; they assumed extravagant62 attitudes; they became the symbols of tremendous mysteries. His head seemed to grow lighter63; he was visited with fantastic impulses like the caprices of an intoxicated64 person. To turn on the Colonel and ask him what he meant by inflicting65 this torture on an innocent man, whose only crime had been to trust him too well; to shake the inscrutable Miss Tancred by the hand and tell her that he knew all—all, and that she had his sympathy; to fall on Mrs. Fazakerly's neck and cry like a child, he felt that he was capable of any or all of these things. As it was, his behavior must have been sufficiently66 ridiculous, since it amused Mrs. Fazakerly so much. The two had reached that topsy-turvy height of anguish67 that is only expressible by laughter. Theirs had a ring of insanity68 in it; it sounded monstrous69 and immoral70, like the mirth of victims under the shadow of condign71 extinction72. As for his play, he knew it was the play of a madman. And yet he still won; with Miss Tancred for his partner it was impossible to lose. She sat there unmoved by his wildest aberrations73. Once, to be sure, [Pg 242] she remarked with a shade of irritation74 in her voice (by some queer freak of nature her voice was unusually sweet), "Oh, there! We've got that trick again!" Like him, she would have preferred to lose, just to break the maddening monotony of it.
He pitied her. Once, in a lucid75 interval76, he actually heard himself paying her a compliment, much as he would have paid a debt of honor. "Miss Tancred, how magnificently you play!" She answering, "I ought to. I've been doing nothing else since I was ten years old." It was simply horrible. The woman was thirty if she was a day.
Half past eleven. Midnight gathering77 in the garden outside. The room was reflected on the window-pane from the solid darkness behind it—the candles, the green table, the players—a fantastic, illusive78 scene, shimmering79 on the ground of night as on some sinister80 reality. Mrs. Fazakerly was dashing down her cards at random81, and even the Colonel shuffled82 uneasily in his seat. At twelve he observed that none of them "seemed very happy in whist"; he proposed loo, a game in which, each person playing for his own hand, he could not be compromised by the ruinous folly of his partner.
At loo Miss Tancred, also untrammeled, rose to dizzying heights of play. She hovered over the green table, motionless like an eagle victory. Then she swooped83, invincible84. One against three she laid about her, slashed85, confounded, and defeated the enemy with terrific slaughter86. As Durant stammered87, idiotic88 in his desperation, it was "a regular Water-loo."
The Colonel kept it going. He laughed, "Ha-ha! What do you say to a whiskey-and-water-loo? My head's as clear as daylight. I think I could stand another little game if we had some whiskey and water." [Pg 243]
A movement of Mrs. Fazakerly's arm swept the pack on to the floor. "Frida," she cried, "take your father and put a mustard plaster on the back of his neck."
Miss Tancred rose. She just raised the black accent of her eyebrows as she surveyed the disenchanted table, the awful disorder89 of the cards. She looked at Durant and Mrs. Fazakerly with a passionless, interrogatory stare. Then suddenly she seemed to catch the infection of their dreadful mirth. It wrung90 from her a deeper note. She too laughed, and her laughter was the very voice of Ennui, a cry of bitterness, of unfathomable pain. It rang harsh upon her silence and was not nice to hear.
This unlooked-for outburst had the happy effect of bringing the evening to an end. It seemed to be part of the program that the Colonel should go home with Mrs. Fazakerly to take care of her, and that Miss Tancred should go with them both to take care of the Colonel. They had not far to walk; only through the park and across the road to a little house opposite the lodge91 gates.
While they were looking for their hats Durant was left for a moment alone with Mrs. Fazakerly. She sank into a seat beside him, unstrung, exhausted92; she seemed to be verging93 on that state of nervous collapse94 which disposes to untimely confidence.
"I like whist," said Mrs. Fazakerly; "but it must be an awful game to play if you don't like it."
He followed her gaze. It was fixed95 on Miss Tancred's retreating figure.
"Why on earth does she play if she doesn't like it?"
Mrs. Fazakerly turned on him, suddenly serious.
"She plays because the Colonel likes it—because she is the best girl in the world, Mr. Durant."
He stood reproved.
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1
digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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3
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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5
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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6
peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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8
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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9
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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10
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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11
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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militia
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| n.民兵，民兵组织 | |
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13
revolved
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| v.（使）旋转( revolve的过去式和过去分词 )；细想 | |
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14
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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15
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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16
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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17
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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18
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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20
repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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21
holocaust
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| n.大破坏；大屠杀 | |
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22
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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23
gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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24
pandering
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| v.迎合（他人的低级趣味或淫欲）( pander的现在分词 )；纵容某人；迁就某事物 | |
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25
morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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wedded
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| adj.正式结婚的；渴望…的，执著于…的v.嫁，娶，（与…）结婚( wed的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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27
materialism
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| n.［哲］唯物主义，唯物论；物质至上 | |
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28
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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29
dummy
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| n.假的东西；(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
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30
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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31
revokes
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| v.撤销，取消，废除( revoke的第三人称单数 ) | |
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32
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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33
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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34
pluming
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| 用羽毛装饰（plume的现在分词形式） | |
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35
err
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| vi.犯错误，出差错 | |
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36
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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37
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
fatuity
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| n.愚蠢，愚昧 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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40
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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41
persistency
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| n. 坚持(余辉, 时间常数) | |
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42
impetus
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| n.推动，促进，刺激；推动力 | |
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43
swoop
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| n.俯冲，攫取；v.抓取，突然袭击 | |
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44
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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45
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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46
ousted
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| 驱逐( oust的过去式和过去分词 )； 革职； 罢黜； 剥夺 | |
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47
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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48
apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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49
incarnate
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| adj.化身的，人体化的，肉色的 | |
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50
ennui
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| n.怠倦，无聊 | |
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51
chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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52
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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53
revoked
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| adj.[法]取消的v.撤销，取消，废除( revoke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
appropriation
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| n.拨款，批准支出 | |
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55
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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56
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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57
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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58
stiffening
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| n. (使衣服等)变硬的材料, 硬化 动词stiffen的现在分词形式 | |
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59
plumbed
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| v.经历( plumb的过去式和过去分词 )；探究；用铅垂线校正；用铅锤测量 | |
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60
courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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61
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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62
extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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63
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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64
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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65
inflicting
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的现在分词 ) | |
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66
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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67
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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68
insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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69
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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70
immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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71
condign
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| adj.应得的，相当的 | |
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72
extinction
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| n.熄灭，消亡，消灭，灭绝，绝种 | |
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73
aberrations
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| n.偏差( aberration的名词复数 )；差错；脱离常规；心理失常 | |
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74
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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75
lucid
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| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
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76
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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77
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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78
illusive
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| adj.迷惑人的，错觉的 | |
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79
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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80
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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81
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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82
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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83
swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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84
invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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85
slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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86
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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87
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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89
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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90
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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91
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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92
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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93
verging
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| 接近，逼近（verge的现在分词形式） | |
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94
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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95
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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