“So you are going on a long journey?” she asked.
He sat facing her, motionless, with anguish1 on his face. Outwardly she was very calm, only there was a sadness in her look and in her voice. In her white dress, with the girdle falling before her feet, she lay back among the three pillows of the rose-moiré sofa; the tips of her little slippers2 were buried in the white sheepskin rug. On the table before her lay a great bouquet3 of loose roses, pink, white and yellow, bound together with a broad riband. He had brought them for her and she had not yet placed them. There was a great calm about her; [234]the exquisite4 atmosphere of the boudoir seemed unchanged.
“Tell me, am I not paining you severely5?” he asked, with the anguish in his eyes, the eyes which she now knew so well.
She smiled:
“No,” she said. “I will be honest with you. I have suffered, but I suffer no longer. I have struggled with myself for the second time and I have conquered myself. Will you believe me?”
“If you knew the remorse6 that I feel....”
She rose and went to him:
“What for?” she asked, in a clear voice. “Because you read me and gave me happiness?”
“Did I?”
“Have you forgotten?”
“No,” he said, “but I thought....”
“What?” [235]
“I don’t know; I thought that you would ... would suffer so ... and I ... I cursed myself!...”
She shook her head gently, with smiling disapproval7:
“For shame!” she said. “Do not blaspheme!...”
“Can you forgive me?”
“I have nothing to forgive. Listen to me. Swear to me that you believe me, that you believe that you have given me happiness and that I am not suffering.”
“I ... I swear.”
“I trust that you are not swearing this merely to satisfy my wish.”
“You have been the highest thing in my life,” he said, gently.
A rapture8 shot through her soul.
“Tell me only....” she began.
“What?”
“Tell me if you believe that I, I, I ... [236]shall always remain the highest thing in your life.”
She stood before him, tall, in her clinging white. She seemed to shed radiance; never had he seen her so beautiful.
“I am certain of that,” he said. “Certain, oh, certain!... My God, how can I convey the certainty of it to you?”
“But I believe you, I believe you!” she exclaimed.
She laughed a laugh of rapture. In her soul a sun seemed to be shooting forth9 rays on every side. She placed her arm tenderly about his neck and kissed his forehead with a chaste10 caress11.
For one moment he seemed to forget everything. He too rose, took her in his arms, almost savagely12, and clasped her suddenly to him, as if he were about to crush her against his breast. She just caught sight of his sad eyes; then she saw nothing more, blinded by the kisses of [237]his mouth, which scorched13 her whole face as though with sparks of fire. With the sun-rapture of her soul was mingled14 a bliss15 of earth, a yielding to the violence of his embrace. But the thought flashed across her of what she would lose if she yielded. She released herself, put him away and said:
“And now ... go.”
He felt stunned16; he understood that he had no choice:
“Yes, yes, I am going,” he said. “I may write to you, may I not?”
She nodded yes, with her smile:
“Write to me, I shall write to you too,” she said. “Let me always hear from you....”
“Then these are not to be the last words between us? This ... this ... is not the end?”
“No.”
“Thank you. Good-bye, mevrouw, [238]good-bye ... Cecile. Ah, if you knew what this moment costs me!”
“It must be. It cannot be otherwise. Go, go. You must go. Do go....”
She gave him her hand again, for the last time. A moment later he was gone.
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2
She looked about her strangely, with bewildered eyes, with hands locked together:
“Go, go....” she repeated, like one raving17.
Then she noticed the roses. With something like a faint scream she sank down before the little table and buried her face in his gift, until the thorns wounded her face. The pain—two drops of blood which fell from her forehead—brought her back to her senses. Standing18 before the Venetian mirror hanging over her [239]writing-table, she wiped away the red spots with her handkerchief.
“Happiness!” she stammered19 to herself. “His happiness! The highest thing in his life! So he knew happiness, though short it was. But now ... now he suffers, now he will suffer again, as he did before. The remembrance of happiness cannot do everything. Ah, if it could only do that, then everything would be well, everything!... I wish for nothing more, I have had my life, my own life, my own happiness; I now have my children; I now belong to them. To him I must no longer be anything....”
She turned away from the mirror and sat down on the settee, as though tired with a great space traversed, and she closed her eyes, as though blinded with too great a light. She folded her hands together, like one in prayer; her face [240]beamed in its fatigue20, from smile to smile.
“Happiness!” she repeated, faltering21 between her smiles. “The highest thing in his life! O my God, happiness! I thank Thee, O God, I thank Thee!...”
THE END
点击收听单词发音
1 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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2 slippers | |
n. 拖鞋 | |
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3 bouquet | |
n.花束,酒香 | |
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4 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
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5 severely | |
adv.严格地;严厉地;非常恶劣地 | |
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6 remorse | |
n.痛恨,悔恨,自责 | |
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7 disapproval | |
n.反对,不赞成 | |
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8 rapture | |
n.狂喜;全神贯注;着迷;v.使狂喜 | |
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9 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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10 chaste | |
adj.贞洁的;有道德的;善良的;简朴的 | |
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11 caress | |
vt./n.爱抚,抚摸 | |
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12 savagely | |
adv. 野蛮地,残酷地 | |
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13 scorched | |
烧焦,烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 ); 使(植物)枯萎,把…晒枯; 高速行驶; 枯焦 | |
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14 mingled | |
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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15 bliss | |
n.狂喜,福佑,天赐的福 | |
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16 stunned | |
adj. 震惊的,惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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17 raving | |
adj.说胡话的;疯狂的,怒吼的;非常漂亮的;令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话;疯话adv.胡言乱语地;疯狂地 | |
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18 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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19 stammered | |
v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
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21 faltering | |
犹豫的,支吾的,蹒跚的 | |
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