“What do you mean by this intrusion, sir? How dare you force your way into my house in my absence? How dare you encourage my servants to disobey my orders? How dare you imperil this young lady’s health by coming here to talk with her?”
She turned round to me anxiously. I suppose I was very flushed with excitement and surprise.
“My darling child,” she cried, growing pale all at once, “Maria should never have allowed him to come inside the door! You should have stopped upstairs! You should have refused to see him! I shall have you ill again on my hands, as before, after this. He’ll have undone5 all the good the last four years have done for you!”
But I was another woman now. I felt it in a moment.
“Auntie dearest,” I answered, moving across to her, and laying my hand on her shoulder to soothe6 her poor ruffled7 nerves, “don’t be the least alarmed. It’s I who’m to blame, and not Maria. I told her to let this gentleman in. He’s done me good, not harm. I’m so glad to have been allowed at last to speak freely about it!”
Aunt Emma shook all over, visibly to the naked eye.
“You’ll have a relapse, my child!” she exclaimed, half crying, and clinging to me in her terror. “You’ll forget all you’ve learned: you’ll go back these four years again!—Leave my house at once, sir! You should never have entered it!”
I stood between them like a statue.
“No, stop here a little longer,” I said, waving my hand towards him imperiously. “I haven’t yet heard all it’s right for me to hear.... Auntie, you mistake. I’m a woman at last. I see what everything means. I’m beginning to remember again. For four years that hateful Picture has haunted me night and day. I could never shut my eyes for a minute without seeing it. I’ve longed to know what it all meant; but whenever I’ve asked, I’ve been repressed like a baby. I’m a baby no longer: I feel myself a woman. What the Inspector here has told me already, half opens my eyes: I must have them opened altogether now. I can’t stop at this point. I’m going back to Woodbury.”
Aunt Emma clung to me still harder in a perfect agony of passionate9 terror.
“To Woodbury, my darling!” she cried. “Going back! Oh, Una, it’ll kill you!”
“I think not,” the Inspector answered, with a very quiet smile. “Miss Callingham has recovered, I venture to say, far more profoundly than you imagine. This repression10, our medical adviser11 tells us, has been bad for her. If she’s allowed to visit freely the places connected with her earlier life, it may all return again to her; and the ends of Justice may thus at last be served for us. I notice already one hopeful symptom: Miss Callingham speaks of going back to Woodbury.”
Aunt Emma looked up at him, horrified12. All her firmness was gone now.
“It’s YOU who’ve put this into her head!” she exclaimed, in a ferment13 of horror. “She’d never thought of it herself. You’ve made her do it!”
“On the contrary, auntie,” I answered, feeling my ground grow surer under me every moment as I spoke14, “this gentleman has never even by the merest hint suggested such an idea to my mind. It occurred to me quite spontaneously. I MUST find out now who was my father’s murderer! All the Inspector has told me seems to arouse in my brain some vague, forgotten chords. It brings back to me faint shadows. I feel sure if I went to Woodbury I should remember much more. And then, you must see for yourself, there’s another reason, dear, that ought to make me go. Nobody but I ever saw the murderer’s face. It’s a duty imposed upon me from without, as it were, never to rest again in peace till I’ve recognised him.”
Aunt Emma collapsed16 into an easy-chair. Her face was deadly pale. Her ringers trembled.
“If you go, Una,” she cried, playing nervously17 with her gloves, “I must go with you too! I must take care of you: I must watch over you!”
I took her quivering hand in mine and stroked it gently. It was a soft and delicate white little hand, all marked inside with curious ragged18 scars that I’d known and observed ever since I first knew her. I held it in silence for a minute. Somehow I felt our positions were reversed to-day. This interview had suddenly brought out what I know now to be my own natural and inherent character—self-reliant, active, abounding19 in initiative. For four years I had been as a child in her hands, through mere15 force of circumstances. My true self came out now and asserted its supremacy20.
“No, dear,” I said, soothing21 her cheek; “I shall go alone. I shall try what I can discover and remember myself without any suggestion or explanation from others. I want to find out how things really stand. I shall set to work on my own account to unravel22 this mystery.”
“But how can you manage things by yourself?” Aunt Emma exclaimed, wringing23 her hands despondently24. “A girl of your age! without even a maid! and all alone in the world! I shall be afraid to let you go. Dr. Wade25 won’t allow it.”
I drew myself up very straight, and realised the position.
“Aunt Emma,” I said plainly, in a decided26 voice, “I’m a full-grown woman, over twenty-one years of age, mistress of my own acts, and no longer a ward8 of yours. I can do as I like, and neither Dr. Wade nor anybody else can prevent me. He may ADVICE me not to go: he has no power to ORDER me. I’m my father’s heiress, and a person of independent means. I’ve been a cipher27 too long. From to-day I take my affairs wholly into my own hands. I ‘ll go round at once and see your lawyer, your banker, your agent, your tradesmen, and tell them that henceforth I draw my own rents, I receive my own dividends29, I pay my own bills, I keep my own banking30 account. And to-morrow or the next day I set out for Woodbury.”
The Inspector turned to Aunt Emma with a demonstrative smile.
“There, you see for yourself,” he said, well pleased, “what this interview has done for her!”
But Aunt Emma only drew back, wrung31 her hands again in impotent despair, and stared at him blankly like a wounded creature.
The Inspector took up his hat to leave. I followed him out to the door, and shook hands with him cordially. The burden felt lighter32 on my shoulders already. For four long years that mystery had haunted me day and night, as a thing impenetrable, incomprehensible, not even to be inquired about. The mere sense that I might now begin to ask what it meant seemed to make it immediately less awful and less burdensome to me.
When I returned to the drawing-room, Aunt Emma sat there on the sofa, crying silently, the very picture of misery33.
“Una,” she said, without even raising her eyes to mine, “the man may have done as he says: he may have restored you your mind again; but what’s that to me? He’s lost me my child, my darling, my daughter!”
I stooped down and kissed her. Dear, tender-hearted auntie! she had always been very good to me. But I knew I was right, for all that, in becoming a woman,—in asserting my years, my independence, my freedom, my duty. To have shirked it any longer would have been sheer cowardice34. So I just kissed her silently, and went up to my own room—to put on my brown hat, and go out to the banker’s.
From that moment forth28, one fierce desire in life alone possessed35 me. The brooding mystery that enveloped36 my life ceased to be passive, and became an active goad37, as it were, to push me forward incessantly38 on my search for the runaway39 I was the creature of a fixed40 idea. A fiery energy spurred me on all my time. I was determined41 now to find out my father’s murderer. I was determined to shake off the atmosphere of doubt and forgetfulness. I was determined to recall those first scenes of my life that so eluded42 my memory.
Yet, strange to say, it was rather a burning curiosity and a deep sense of duty that urged me on, than anything I could properly call affection—still less, revenge or malice43. I didn’t remember my father as alive at all: the one thing I could recollect44 about him was the ghastly look of that dead body, stretched at full length on the library floor, with its white beard all dabbled45 in the red blood that clotted46 it. It was abstract zeal47 for the discovery of the truth that alone pushed me on. This search became to me henceforth an end and aim in itself. It stood out, as it were, visibly in the imperative48 mood: “go here;” “go there;” “do this;” “try that;” “leave no stone unturned anywhere till you’ve tracked down the murderer!” Those were the voices that now incessantly though inaudibly pursued me.
Next day I spent in preparations for my departure. I would hunt up Woodbury now, though fifty Aunt Emma’s held their gentle old faces up in solemn warning against me. The day after that again, I set out on my task. The pull was hard. I had taken my own affairs entirely49 into my own hands by that time, and had provided myself with money for a long stay at Woodbury. But it was the very first railway journey I could ever remember to have made alone; and I confess, when I found myself seated all by myself in a first-class carriage, with no friend beside me, my resolution for a moment almost broke down again. It was so terrible to feel oneself boxed up there for an hour or two alone, with that awful Picture staring one in the face all the time from every fence and field and wall and hoarding50. It obliterated51 Fry’s Cocoa; it fixed itself on the yellow face of Colman’s Mustard.
I went by Liverpool Street, and drove across to Paddington. I had never, to my knowledge, been in London before: and it was all so new to me. But Liverpool Street was even newer to me than Paddington, I noticed. A faint sense of familiarity seemed to hang about the Great Western line. And that was not surprising, I thought, as I turned it over; for, of course, in the old days, when we lived at Woodbury, I must often have come down from town that way with my father. Yet I remembered nothing of it all definitely; the most I could say was that I seemed dimly to recollect having been there before—though when or where or how, I hadn’t the faintest notion.
I was early at Paddington. The refreshment52 room somehow failed to attract me. I walked up and down the platform, waiting for my train. As I did so, a boy pasted a poster on a board: it was the contents-sheet of one of the baser little Society papers. Something strange in it caught my eye. I looked again in amazement53. Oh, great heavens! what was this in big flaring54 letters?
“MISS UNA CALLINGHAM AND THE WOODBURY MYSTERY! Is SHE SCREENING THE MURDERER? A POSSIBLE EXPLANATION!”
The words took my breath away. They were too horrible to realise. I positively55 couldn’t speak. I went up to the bookstall, laid down my penny without moving my lips, and took the paper in my hand in tremulous silence.
I dared not open it there and then, I confess. I waited till I was in the train, and on my way to Woodbury.
When I did so, it was worse, even worse than my fears. The article was short, but it was very hateful. It said nothing straight out—the writer had evidently the fear of the law of libel before his eyes as he wrote,—but it hinted and insinuated56 in a detestable undertone the most vile57 innuendoes58. A Treasury59 Doctor and a Police Inspector, it said, had lately examined Miss Callingham again, and found her intellect in every respect perfectly60 normal, except that she couldn’t remember the face of her father’s murderer. Now, this was odd, because, you see, Miss Callingham was in the room at the moment the shot was fired; and, alone in the world, Miss Callingham had seen the face of the man who fired it. Who was that man? and why was he there, unknown to the servants, in a room with nobody but Mr. Callingham and his daughter? A correspondent (who preferred to guard his incognito) had suggested in this matter some very searching questions: Could the young man—for it was allowed he was young—have been there with Miss Callingham when Mr. Callingham entered? Could he have been on terms of close intimacy61 with the heroine of The Grange Mystery, who was a young lady—as all the world knew from her photographs—of great personal attractiveness, and who was also the heiress to a considerable property? Could he have been there, then, by appointment, without the father’s knowledge? Was this the common case of a clandestine62 assignation? Could the father have returned to the house unexpectedly, at an inopportune moment, and found his daughter there, closeted with a stranger—perhaps with a man who had already, for sufficient grounds, been forbidden the premises63? Such things might be, in this world that we live in: he would be a bold man who would deny them categorically. Could an altercation64 have arisen on the father’s return, and the fatal shot have been fired in the ensuing scuffle? And could the young lady then have feigned65 this curious relapse into that Second State we had all heard so much about, for no other reason than to avoid giving evidence at a trial for murder against her guilty lover?
These were suggestions that deserved the closest consideration of the Authorities charged with the repression of crime. Was it not high time that the inquest on Mr. Callingham’s body should be formally reopened, and that the young lady, now restored (as we gathered) to her own seven senses, should be closely interrogated66 by trained legal cross-examiners?
I laid down the paper with a burning face. I learned now, for the first time, how closely my case had been watched, how eagerly my every act and word had been canvassed67. It was hateful to think of my photograph having been exposed in every London shop-window, and of anonymous68 slanderers being permitted to indite69 such scandal as this about an innocent woman. But, at any rate, it had the effect of sealing my fate. If I meant even before to probe this mystery to the bottom, I felt now no other course was possibly open to me. For the sake of my own credit, for the sake of my own good fame, I must find out and punish my father’s murderer.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
inspector
|
|
| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
remonstrance
|
|
| n抗议，抱怨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
undone
|
|
| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
soothe
|
|
| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
ruffled
|
|
| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
ward
|
|
| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
repression
|
|
| n.镇压，抑制，抑压 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
adviser
|
|
| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
horrified
|
|
| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
ferment
|
|
| vt.使发酵；n./vt.（使）激动，（使）动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
collapsed
|
|
| adj.倒塌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
nervously
|
|
| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
abounding
|
|
| adj.丰富的，大量的v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
supremacy
|
|
| n.至上；至高权力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
soothing
|
|
| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
unravel
|
|
| v.弄清楚（秘密）；拆开，解开，松开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
wringing
|
|
| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
despondently
|
|
| adv.沮丧地，意志消沉地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
wade
|
|
| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
cipher
|
|
| n.零；无影响力的人；密码 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
dividends
|
|
| 红利( dividend的名词复数 )； 股息； 被除数； （足球彩票的）彩金 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
banking
|
|
| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
wrung
|
|
| 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） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
cowardice
|
|
| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
goad
|
|
| n.刺棒，刺痛物；激励；vt.激励，刺激 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
incessantly
|
|
| ad.不停地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
runaway
|
|
| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
eluded
|
|
| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
malice
|
|
| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
recollect
|
|
| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
dabbled
|
|
| v.涉猎( dabble的过去式和过去分词 )；涉足；浅尝；少量投资 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
clotted
|
|
| adj.凝结的v.凝固( clot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
zeal
|
|
| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
imperative
|
|
| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
hoarding
|
|
| n.贮藏；积蓄；临时围墙；囤积v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
obliterated
|
|
| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
refreshment
|
|
| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
flaring
|
|
| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
insinuated
|
|
| v.暗示( insinuate的过去式和过去分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
vile
|
|
| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
innuendoes
|
|
| n.影射的话( innuendo的名词复数 )；讽刺的话；含沙射影；暗讽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
treasury
|
|
| n.宝库；国库，金库；文库 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
intimacy
|
|
| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
clandestine
|
|
| adj.秘密的，暗中从事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
premises
|
|
| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
altercation
|
|
| n.争吵，争论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
feigned
|
|
| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
interrogated
|
|
| v.询问( interrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
canvassed
|
|
| v.（在政治方面）游说( canvass的过去式和过去分词 )；调查（如选举前选民的）意见；为讨论而提出（意见等）；详细检查 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
anonymous
|
|
| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
indite
|
|
| v.写（文章，信等）创作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |