They lay again in bed together. Before leaving the doctor had given, with casualness, certain instructions, not apparently1 important, which Violet had carried out, having understood that there was no immediate2 danger to her husband and also that there was nothing immediately to be done. Dr. Raste's final remarks, as he departed, had had a sardonic3 tone, almost cynical4, which had at first abraded5 Violet's sensitiveness; but later she had said to herself: "After all, with a patient like Henry, what can you expect a doctor to do?" And she had accepted, and begun to share, the doctor's attitude. A patient might be very seriously ill, he might be dying of cancer, and yet by his callous6 and stupid obstinacy7 alienate8 your sympathies from him. Human sympathies were as precarious9 as that! She admitted it. A few minutes earlier she had lifted Henry to a pedestal of perfection. Now she dashed him down from it. "I know I oughtn't to feel as I do, but I do feel as I do." And she even confirmed herself in harshness. She had sent Elsie to bed for the few remaining hours of the night. She had undressed once more and got into bed herself.
The light of the fire played faintly at intervals10 on the astonished ceiling, and sometimes shafts11 of moonlight could be discerned through an aperture12 in the thick, drawn13 curtains. Behind the curtains the blind could be heard now and then answering restlessly to the north breeze. The room was so warm that the necessity to keep the bedclothes over the shoulders and up to the chin[Pg 222] had disappeared. Violet had a strange sense of luxury. "And why shouldn't we have a fire every night?" she thought, and added, somewhat afraid of the extravagance of the proposition: "Well, anyhow, some nights—when it's very cold." She gave no reply to Henry's question about her health.
Henry felt much better. He had scarcely any pain at the spot which the doctor had indicated; he was as sure as ever that he had done right in refusing to enter a hospital, and as determined14 as ever that he never would enter a hospital. None the less, he was disturbed; he was a bit frightened of trouble in the bed. He had noted15 his wife's face before she turned the light out, and seen rare and unmistakable signs in it. His illness was not now the important matter, nor her illness either. The important matter was their sentimental16 relations. He knew that he had estranged17 her. Convinced of the justice of his own cause and of the folly18 of doctors and wives, he was yet apprehensive19 and had somehow a quite illogical conviction of guilt20. Violet had wanted to act against his best interests, and yet he must try to appease21 her! It was more important to appease her than to get well!
Dr. Raste, or anybody else, looking at the couple lying beneath Violet's splendid eiderdown (which still by contrast intensified22 the dowdiness23 and shabbiness of the rest of the room) would have seen merely a middle-aged24 man and a middle-aged woman with haggard faces worn by illness, fatigue25, privations and fear. But Henry did not picture himself and Violet thus; nor Violet herself and Henry. Henry did not feel middle-aged. He did not feel himself to be any particular age. His interest in life and in his own existence had not diminished during the enormous length of time which had elapsed since he first came into Riceyman Steps as a young man. In his heart he felt no older than on that first night. He did not feel that he now in the least corresponded to his youthful conception of a middle-aged man. He did not feel that he was as old as other men whom he knew to be of about his own age. He thought that he alone had[Pg 223] mysteriously remained young among his generation. For him his grey hairs had no significance; they were an accident. Then in regard to his notion of Violet. He knew that all women were alike, but with one exception—Violet. Women were women, and Violet was thrice a woman. He was aware of her age arithmetically, for he had seen her birth-certificate. But in practice she was a girl—well, perhaps a little more than a girl, but not much more. And she had for him a romantic quality perceptible in no other woman. He admired certain efficiencies in her, but he could not have said why she was so important to him, nor why he was vaguely26 afraid of her frown—why it was so urgent for him to stand well with her. He could defeat her in battle. He had more common sense than she had, more authority, a surer grasp of things; he could see farther; he was more straightforward27. In fact, a superior being! Further, she had crossed him, sided with the doctor against him, made him resentful. Therefore, if justice reigned28, she ought to be placating29 him. Instead, he was anxious to placate30 her.
And, on her part, Violet saw in Henry a man not of any age, simply a man: egotistic, ruthless, childish, naughty, illogical, incalculable, the supreme31 worry of her life; a destroyer of happiness; a man indefensible for his misdeeds, but very powerful and inexplicably32 romantic, different from all other men whatsoever33. She hated him; her resentment34 against him was very keen, and yet she wanted to fondle him, physically35 and spiritually; and this desire maintained itself not without success in opposition36 to all her grievances37, and, compared to it, her sufferings and his had but a minor38 consequence.
"Well, how do you feel?" he repeated.
The repetition aroused Violet's courage. She paused before speaking, and in the pause she matured a magnificent, a sublime40 enterprise of attack. She had a feeling akin39 to inspiration. She flouted41 his illness, his tremendous power, her own weakness and pain. She did not care what happened. No risk could check her.[Pg 224]
"You don't care how I am!" she began quietly and bitterly. "Did you show the slightest in me all yesterday? Not one bit. You thought only of yourself. You pretended you were ill. Well, if you weren't, why couldn't you think about me? But you were ill. Not that that excuses you! However ill I was, I should be thinking about you all the time. But I say you were ill, and I say it again. You only told me a lot of lies about yourself, one lie after another. Why do you keep yourself to yourself? It's an insult to me, all this hiding, and you know it. I suppose you think I'm not good enough to be told! I can tell you one thing, and I've said it before, and this is the last time I ever shall say it—you've taught me to sew my mouth up, too; that's what you've done with your everlasting42 secrecy43. I always said you're the most selfish and cruel man that ever was. You're ill, and the doctor says you ought to go to a hospital—and you won't. Why? Doesn't everybody go into a hospital some time or another? A hospital's not good for you—that's it. It suits you better to stop here and be nursed night and day by your wife. Don't matter how ill I am! I've got to nurse you and look after the shop as well. It'll kill me; but a fat lot you care about that. And if you hadn't deceived me and told me a lot of lies you might have been all right by this time, because I should have had the doctor in earlier, and we should have known where we were then. But how was I to know how ill you are? How was I to know I'd married a liar44 besides a miser45?"
Henry interjected quietly:
"I told you long ago that the reason I didn't eat was because I'd got indigestion. But you wouldn't believe me."
Violet's voice rose:
"Oh, you did, did you? Yes, you did tell me once. You needn't think I don't remember. It was that night I cooked a beautiful bit of steak for you, and you wouldn't touch it. Yes, you did tell me, and it was the truth, and I didn't believe it. And you were glad I didn't believe[Pg 225] it. You didn't want me to believe it. You're very knowing, Henry, aren't you? You say a thing once, and then it's been said, it's finished with. And then afterwards you can always say: 'But I told you.' And you're always so polite! As if that made any difference! I wish to God often you weren't so polite. My first husband wasn't very polite, and I've known the time when he's laid his hand on me, knocked me about—yes, and more than once. I was young then. Disgusting, you'd call it. And I've never told a soul before; not likely. But what I say is I'd sooner be knocked about a bit and know what my man's really thinking about than live with a locked-up, cast-iron safe like you! Yes, a hundred times sooner. There's worse things than a blow, and every woman knows it. Well, you won't go to the hospital! That's all right. You won't go and you won't go. But I shall go to the hospital! The doctor'll tell me to go, and the words won't be out of his mouth before I shall be gone. I can feel here what's coming to me. I shall go, and I shall leave you with your Elsie, that eats you out of house and home. She was here before I came. I'm only a stranger. You pretend to be very stiff and all that with her, but you and her understand each other, and I'm only a stranger coming between you. Are you asleep?"
"No."
Violet rose up and slipped out of bed. Henry heard the sound of her crying. She seemed to rush at the fire. She poked46 it furiously, not because it needed poking47, but because she needed relief.
She dropped the poker49 with a clatter50 on the fender, and Henry saw her, a white creature, moving towards him round by his side of the bed. She bent51 over him.
"Why should I come back to bed?" she asked angrily, her voice thickened and obscured by sobs52. "Why should I come back to bed? You're ill. You've got no strength, and haven't had for weeks. What do you want me to come back to bed for?"[Pg 226]
He felt her fingers digging into the softness of his armpits. He felt her face nearer his. She mastered herself.
"Listen to me, Henry Earlforward," she said in a low, restrained, trembling voice: "You'll go into that hospital to-morrow morning. You'll go into that hospital. You'll go into it when the doctor comes to fetch you. Or, if you don't, I'll—I'll—I'll——"
He felt her lips on his in a savage53, embittered54 and passionate55 kiss. She was heroical; he a pigmy—crushed by her might. He was afraid and enchanted56.
"No," he thought, "there never was another like her."
"Will you, will you, will you, will you?" she insisted ruthlessly, and her voice was smothered57 in his lips.
"Very well. I'll go."
Her body fell limp upon his. She was not sobbing58 now, but feebly and softly weeping. With a sudden movement she stood upright, then ran to the door, just as she was, fumbled59 for the knob in the darkness, and rushed out of the room, banging the door after her with a noise that formidably resounded60 through the whole house. Her victory was more than she could bear.
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1
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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abraded
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| adj.[医]刮擦的v.刮擦( abrade的过去式和过去分词 )；（在精神方面）折磨（人）；消磨（意志、精神等）；使精疲力尽 | |
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callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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7
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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alienate
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| vt.使疏远，离间；转让(财产等) | |
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precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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10
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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11
shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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12
aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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14
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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15
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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17
estranged
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| adj.疏远的，分离的 | |
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18
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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21
appease
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| v.安抚，缓和，平息，满足 | |
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22
intensified
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
dowdiness
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24
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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26
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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27
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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28
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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29
placating
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| v.安抚，抚慰，使平静( placate的现在分词 ) | |
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30
placate
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| v.抚慰，平息(愤怒) | |
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31
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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32
inexplicably
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| adv.无法说明地，难以理解地，令人难以理解的是 | |
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33
whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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34
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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35
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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36
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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37
grievances
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| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
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38
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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39
akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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40
sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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41
flouted
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| v.藐视，轻视( flout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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43
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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44
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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45
miser
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| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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46
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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47
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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48
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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49
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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50
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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51
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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52
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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53
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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54
embittered
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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56
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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57
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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58
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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59
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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60
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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