“Amelia,” he said, bending over her. “What is it? tell me.”
He sat down beside her, and sought to engage one of her hands in his own, but she withdrew it, and pressed it with the other and the handkerchief in both, to her lips and chin. Vernon glanced about the respectable parlors, maintained in instant readiness for anybody that might happen along with his little comedy or his little tragedy. She continued to look obdurately2 out of the window.
“Amelia,” he said, “aren’t you going to speak to me? Tell me what I have done.”
Still there came no answer. He flung himself back on the sofa helplessly.
“Well,” he said, “I don’t know what it all means. I’ve tried to fathom3 it in the last hour, but it’s too deep for me; I give it up.” He flung out his hands to illustrate4 his abandonment.
“God knows,” he suddenly exclaimed, “I was only trying to do something worthy—for your sake!”
“Please don’t swear, Morley,” Amelia said.
He looked up swiftly.
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“Well—” he began explosively, but he didn’t continue. He relapsed into a moody5 silence. He stretched his legs out before him in an ungainly attitude, with his hands plunged6 deep in his trousers’ pockets. Then he knitted his brows and tried to think.
“I suppose,” he said, as if he were thinking aloud, “that you expect some explanation, some apology.”
“Oh, not at all,” she said lightly, in the most musical tone she could command.
“Very well,” he said, “I wouldn’t know where to begin if you did. I’m sure I’m not aware of having—”
She began to hum softly, to herself, as it were, some tuneless air. He remembered that it was a way she had when she was angry. It was intended to show the last and utmost personal unconcern. In such circumstances the tune7 was apt to be an improvisation8 and was never melodious9. Sometimes it made her easier to deal with, sometimes harder; he could never tell.
“I don’t exactly see what we are here for,” he ventured, stealing a look at her. She had no reply. He fidgeted a moment and then began drumming with his fingers on the arm of the sofa.
“Please don’t do that,” she said.
He stopped suddenly.
“If you would be good enough, kind enough,” he said it sarcastically11, “to indicate, to suggest even, what I am to do—to say.”
“I’m sure I can’t,” she said. “You came. I presumed you had something to say to me.”
“Well, I have something to say to you,” Vernon went on impetuously. “Why didn’t you answer my letters? Why have you treated me this way? That’s what I want to know.”
He leaned toward her. He was conscious of two emotions, two passions, struggling within him, one of anger, almost hate, the other of love, and strangely enough they had a striking similarity in their effect upon him. He felt like reproaching, yet he knew that was not the way, and he made a desperate struggle to conquer himself.
He tried to look into her face, but she only turned farther away from him.
“I’ve spent the most miserable12 week I ever knew, doomed13 to stay here, unable to get away to go to you, and with this fight on my hands!”
“You seemed to be having a fairly good time,” the girl said.
“Now, Amelia, look here,” said Vernon, “let’s not act like children any longer; let’s not have anything so foolish and little between us.”
His tone made his words a plea, but it plainly had no effect upon her, for she did not answer. They sat there, then, in silence.
“Why didn’t you write?” Vernon demanded after a little while. He looked at her, and she straightened up and her eyes flashed.
“Why didn’t I write!” she exclaimed. “What was I to write, pray? Were not your letters full of this odious10 Maria Burlaps Greene? And as if that were not enough, weren’t the papers full of you two? And that speech—oh, that speech—that Portia and Helen, and ‘I fill this cup to one made up,’ ah, it was sickening!” She flirted14 away again.
“But, darling,” Vernon cried, “listen—you misunderstood—I meant all that for you, didn’t you understand?”
She stirred.
“Didn’t you see? Why, dearest, I thought that when you read the papers you’d be the proudest girl alive!”
Her lip curled.
“I read the papers,” she said, and then added, significantly, “this once, anyway.”
“Well, you certainly don’t intend to hold me responsible for what the papers say, do you?”
She resumed her old attitude, her elbow on the arm of the sofa, her chin in her hand, and looked out the window. And she began to hum again.
“And then,” he pressed on, “to come down here and not even let me know; why you even called me Mister Vernon when I came into the dining-room.”
“Yes,” she exclaimed, suddenly wheeling about, “I saw you come into the dining-room this morning!” Her eyes grew dark and flashed.
He regretted, on the instant.
“I saw you!” she went on. “I saw you rush up to that Maria Burlaps Greene woman, and—oh, it was horrid15!”
“Her name isn’t Burlaps, dear,” said Vernon.
“How do you know her name, I’d like to know!” She put her hands to her face. He saw her tears.
“Amelia,” he said masterfully, “if you don’t stop that! Listen—we’ve got to get down to business.”
She hastily brushed the tears from her eyes. She was humming once more, and tapping the toe of her boot on the carpet, though she was not tapping it in time to her tune.
“Why did you come down without letting me know?” Vernon went on; but still she was silent.
“You might at least have given me—”
“Warning?” she said, with a keen inflection.
“Amelia!” he said, and his tone carried a rebuke16.
“Well, I don’t care!” she cried. “It’s all true! You couldn’t stay for my dinner, but you could come off down here and—”
She covered her face with her hands and burst suddenly into tears. Vernon gazed at her in astonishment17.
“Why, dearest!” he said, leaning over, and trying to take her in his arms. She drew away from him, and sobbed18. Vernon glanced about the room helplessly. He pleaded with her, but she would not listen; neither would she be comforted, but continued to sob19. Vernon, in a man’s anguish20 with a weeping woman, stood up.
“Amelia! Amelia!” He bent21 over her and spoke22 firmly. “You must not! Listen to me! We must go over to—”
Suddenly he stood erect23, and jerked out his watch.
“Heavens!” he cried. “It’s half-past ten!”
She tried to control herself then, and sitting up, began to wipe her eyes.
“Sweetheart,” he said, “I must go now. I should have been in the Senate at ten o’clock; I hate to leave you, but I’ll explain everything when I get back.”
He waited an instant, then he went on:
“Aren’t you going to say ‘Good bye’?”
Amelia got up.
“I’ll go, too,” she said. She was still catching24 little sobs25 in her throat, now and then. Vernon looked at her in some surprise.
“Why—” he began, incredulously.
She must have divined his surprise.
“I have to help Mrs. Hodge-Lathrop,” she said, as if in explanation. “But, of course, I hate to bother you.”
“Oh, nonsense, dearest,” he said, impatiently. “Come on. Let’s start.”
“But I can’t go looking this way,” she said. She walked across the room, and standing26 before a mirror, wiped her eyes carefully, then arranged her hat and her veil.
“Would anybody know?” she asked, facing about for his inspection27.
“Never—come on.”
They went out, and down the elevator. When they reached the entrance, Vernon looked up and down the street, but there was no carriage in sight. The street was quiet and the hotel wore an air of desertion, telling that all the political activity of Illinois had been transferred to the State House. Vernon looked around the corner, but the old hack28 that always stood there was not at its post.
“We’ll have to walk,” he said. “It’ll take too long for them to get a carriage around for us. It’s only a few blocks, anyway. The air will do you good.”
As they set forth29 in the bright morning sun they were calmer, and, having come out into public view, for the time being they dropped their differences and their misunderstandings, and began to talk in their common, ordinary fashion.
“Did Mrs. Hodge-Lathrop ask you to change me on the Ames Amendment30?” Vernon asked her.
“The what?”
“The Ames Amendment; that’s the woman-suffrage measure.”
“No, do her justice; she didn’t.”
“What then?”
“She said she wanted me to work against it, that’s all.”
“Didn’t she say anything about asking me not to vote for it?”
“Well, yes; but I told her—”
“What?”
“That I wouldn’t try to influence you in the least.”
Vernon made no reply.
“No,” she went on, “I’m to work against it, of course.”
They were silent then, till suddenly she appealed to him:
“Oh, Morley, I’ve got to ask strange men, men I never met, to vote against it! How am I ever!”
She shuddered31.
“It’s all very strange,” Vernon said.
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收听单词发音
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1
parlors
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| 客厅( parlor的名词复数 )； 起居室； （旅馆中的）休息室； （通常用来构成合成词）店 | |
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2
obdurately
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| adv.顽固地，执拗地 | |
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3
fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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illustrate
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| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
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moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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6
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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7
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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improvisation
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| n.即席演奏(或演唱)；即兴创作 | |
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9
melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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10
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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12
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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13
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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14
flirted
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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16
rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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17
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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18
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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19
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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20
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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21
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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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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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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25
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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26
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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27
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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28
hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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29
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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30
amendment
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| n.改正，修正，改善，修正案 | |
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31
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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