“We still don’t know where we are going,” said Rose-Ann, as they stood in the doorway2, waiting for the taxi. “Isn’t it amusing? What are we going to tell the driver?”
“City Hall, what else?” said Felix.
Rose-Ann shrugged3 her shoulders. “It’s an abode4, a place of residence—a home, if you like—some place to take you besides Community House or that dreadful place that I’ve heard about on Canal Street: it’s that I’m thinking of, rather than the legal process. It’s rather absurd, isn’t it, that neither of us has anything resembling a home! We just are vagabonds, that’s a fact.... And—somehow I don’t want to be married at the City Hall and have a fat alderman offer to ‘kiss the bride.’ ... If you don’t mind, I want some place to go where we can have a moment to consider what to do. After all, even vagabonds have their self-respect to take care of! Let’s not be rushed into an ugly and stupid performance that has no significance or beauty for either of us. I want to have something to say about the way I get married! And if there isn’t some way of getting married that’s our way, so that we don’t have to feel like fools and cowards, why—” she finished in a mournful voice, “I think I’d rather not be married at all.”
Felix patted her arm reassuringly6. “That’s all right,” he said. “I know what we’ll do. We’ll go to Clive’s place.”
“Clive Bangs? Up at Woods Point?”
“Yes.” And he told her of Clive’s invitation. “You needn’t worry, it’s not a bachelor’s den5, it’s a real house, 109with all the appurtenances thereto appertaining, and a woman to come in to do the cooking. And we’ll be married there. Clive will help us arrange it.”
The taxi had swung up beside the curb7. Rose-Ann still hesitated a moment, then said, “All right!” and climbed in.
“Northwestern station!” said Felix to the driver.
“No!” said Rose-Ann. “To Community House first!—If I’m to be married, Felix, at least I must change my clothes; there’s no need for me to be married in this”—and she looked down at the grey suit she was wearing. “I’m just as I came from the train.”
“All right,” said Felix. “But let’s not stop there long. And—I do hope they won’t suspect what we are up to ... it will be rather a give-away, our dashing in together and out again!”
She laughed. “You mean it will look like an elopement? Well, you can wait for me in the taxi.”
He waited, impatiently, smoking a cigarette, for what seemed a long time. At last she came, dressed now in some soft creamy thing under her grey cloak, and carrying a suitcase.
“I think one person suspected me,” she said.
“Yes. Old women think they know so much, don’t they? Why should she imagine—? just because I—! It’s my own fault, for making a last sentimental9 visit to the theatre. But I wanted to—sort of—say good-bye!”
At the station, Rose-Ann hesitated again, and urged Felix at least to call Clive up and tell him they were coming. Felix refused. “Let’s make it a surprise,” he said.
“I don’t know!” Rose-Ann said, when they were aboard the train. “To tell the truth, I’m a little afraid of your friend Clive.”
“Afraid of him?”
“Nothing awe-ful about Clive. He’s a nice fellow. I’ve always wanted you to meet him.”
“I wondered why you kept us so carefully apart,” said 110Rose-Ann. “I thought perhaps you felt that I didn’t measure up to his specifications11. Do you think I will?”
He laughed tenderly, and looked at her. She was very sweet, and, it seemed, very tired despite the buoyant vivacity12 that always made her lovely. “You are wonderful,” he said. “But,” and he put his arm about her, to the amusement of two adolescent girls across the aisle13, “it doesn’t make any difference what anybody in the world thinks about you, except me!”
“How possessive you are, of a sudden!” said Rose-Ann. But she relaxed deep within his caressing14 and protecting gesture, and closed her eyes.
He looked down, touching15 softly with his glance the delicate surface of her cheek as it slanted16 away from the high cheek-bones, and the forehead half hidden under the drooping17 tangle18 of red gold hair. Yes, she was very tired, and strangely enough he was glad to have her so, glad to feel her restless and vivid life relax to peace in the shelter of his arm. She had gone through a good deal of late; he thought of her home, and of that death-bed from which she had come, and the jarring family hostilities19 only half-repressed by the solemnity of that scene; it was strange to think of her—this lovely child made for happiness—emerging from those troubled shadows....
She was free now. And he too was free—free from dubieties and hesitations20, strange and foolish suspicions of her—free from fear. How simple everything was, after all! By what strange ways they had come, to find each other—not knowing until this last moment the real meaning of their lives....
2
“It’s beginning to snow again,” said Rose-Ann, rousing herself and looking out of the window. And then—“What have you told Clive Bangs about me?”
“Not very much,” he confessed. “I suppose because of Clive’s manner about his own girls—or girl, I should say; it’s been a particular one for a long time now. He alludes21 111to her, discusses her in an impersonal22 way, but he has never even told me her name. A queer sort of futile23 secrecy—Which reminds me of a curious story about him.” And he told her Eddie Silver’s drunken tale of the building of the house.
“This house we are going to?”
“Yes—if the story’s true.”
“So that’s why he became a woman-hater.”
“Perhaps not quite so bad as that. I should say it made him a Utopian.”
“It’s the same thing,” said Rose-Ann. “It’s curious,” she added, “how many men nowadays—particularly interesting men—are afraid of women; afraid that being really in love will ruin their career, commercialize their art, or something—Are you afraid of me, Felix?”
“Not any more,” he laughed.
“Why, were you ever?”
“Afraid you didn’t really care for me,” he said.
“Yes, you were rather shy! But I liked you for it. And it was just as well, until I had made up my own mind.”
“How did you come to make up your mind? Why did you decide to marry me?”
“Shall I tell you?”
“Yes, tell me.”
“It was partly your love-letters—”
“Beautiful love-letters! And then—being at home: that more than anything else made me realize that I was in love with you. I had thought so before, but then I was sure of it. And—well, it seemed stupid not to make something of our two lives. Why should we keep on being afraid to try?...”
“Were you afraid, too, Rose-Ann?”
“Yes. But I’m not any more. We’re going to be very happy, and you’re going to be a very great man and write wonderful things....”
He stirred uneasily. “Don’t put our happiness on that 112basis, please. Suppose I don’t write wonderful things!”
“But you will!”
He sighed. “That makes me realize that I am a little afraid of you, Rose-Ann. Afraid you will make me have a career!”
“Don’t you want a career? I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”
“That’s just it. I’m afraid you are going to make me do all the things I do want to! Things I would otherwise just dream of doing!”
“Yes, rather.”
“Poor dear!” She pressed his hand in hers. “I suppose I am a terrible person. I can’t do the things I want to do myself; and so I’m going to insist on your doing them—is that it?”
“I have the feeling that you expect a terrible lot from me,” he said.
“It’s true—I do think you’re rather a wonderful person.”
“I wish you wouldn’t!”
“I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to help it, Felix. You’ll have to take me, enthusiasm and all, my dear! For I’m in love with you, and I do think you are going to be a great man, and I shall continue to, no matter how miserable26 it makes you feel—so there! I won’t marry a commonplace man, and you’ll have to agree to let me think you out of the ordinary, or the marriage is off!” She tilted27 her chin defiantly28.
“All right, Rose-Ann,” he said. “You may think me as wonderful as you like, if only you’ll not say so out loud. Praise upsets me. I thrive only on contumelious blame! So if you want to put me at my ease, tell me something bad about myself.”
“That’s easy enough,” she said. “You’re quite the shabbiest-looking man that ever went to his own wedding, vagabond or not. You seem to have packed off to the hospital in your oldest shirt—look at those cuffs29!” Felix looked at them, and pulled down his coat-sleeves 113over their frayed30 edges. He looked at his dusty shoes, and tucked them out of sight under the seat.
“Does Felix feel himself again?” she asked maliciously31.
“Quite,” he said. “Now I know it’s true I’m going to be married.”
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1
drizzly
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| a.毛毛雨的(a drizzly day) | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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reassuringly
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| ad.安心，可靠 | |
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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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perk
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| n.额外津贴；赏钱；小费； | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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specifications
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| n.规格；载明；详述；（产品等的）说明书；说明书( specification的名词复数 )；详细的计划书；载明；详述 | |
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vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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hostilities
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| n.战争；敌意(hostility的复数)；敌对状态；战事 | |
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hesitations
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| n.犹豫( hesitation的名词复数 )；踌躇；犹豫（之事或行为）；口吃 | |
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alludes
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| 提及，暗指( allude的第三人称单数 ) | |
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impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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maliciously
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| adv.有敌意地 | |
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