When at last he lifted his face, after a third knock upon the door, the prints of his fingers were branded across its grayness in livid streaks1.
The hall-boy who entered, after waiting vainly for permission, handed him a telegram, which he opened and spread out on the desk before him.
He stared at it blankly, with his temples upon his wrists, until the boy, tired of waiting, asked if there were any answer.
Terence turned and looked at him as though unable to account for his presence.
The boy repeated his question, and Terence shook his head, resting it again upon his hands as the door closed upon the messenger, gazing down uncomprehendingly upon the thin pink sheet.
Presently, however, the meaning of what lay before him filtered into his consciousness. It was an invitation of no moment, but it needed a reply. He drew out a sheaf of forms from a pigeon-hole, wrote a refusal, rang for the boy, and sent it off.
The incident passed at once from his mind, but it had disturbed his absorption.
He rose and paced slowly and aimlessly about the room, gazing blindly out of the window and at the engravings upon the walls. There was something curious in the combined looseness and stiffness of his movements: he seemed literally2 to be dragging himself about.
When he sat down again he turned his chair slightly from the table, and leaning back in it, stared out at the gray day with a look of dazed pain upon his face.
Then, with a deeper breath and the same confused slowness in his movements, he drew an envelope from his pocket, and spread out the sheet within it upon the desk. The lines it carried covered but a single page, and he had read them through a dozen times.
They came from a woman whom he had loved more than his own soul, and they cast him, with freezing contempt, out of her sight for ever.
He read the bitter words again, hoping their sharp edge would make a wound of self-respect in the consciousness they had benumbed. But he tried in vain to hurt his pride, or by any fresh vexation to escape from the torment4 of his thoughts.
Earth is jealous of its anodynes, even of pain that brings oblivion or of death that means release. He refolded the letter and returned it to his pocket, knowing that in half an hour he would be reading it again.
Meanwhile a new impulse moved him.
Leaning forward, he slid back a secret door in the top of his desk, and took from the space behind it a bundle of letters. They were in envelopes of almost every hue5 and shape, but all were directed by the same hand, in a vain weak sprawling6 character.
Terence drew the packet towards him, and set his fingers on the string.
Under those harlequin covers were hidden the one chance of happiness for his life, and the reputation of a woman.
He could make them yield which of the two he chose; but the other must be destroyed.
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1 streaks | |
n.(与周围有所不同的)条纹( streak的名词复数 );(通常指不好的)特征(倾向);(不断经历成功或失败的)一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 );使布满条纹 | |
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2 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
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3 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
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4 torment | |
n.折磨;令人痛苦的东西(人);vt.折磨;纠缠 | |
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5 hue | |
n.色度;色调;样子 | |
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6 sprawling | |
adj.蔓生的,不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 );蔓延;杂乱无序地拓展;四肢伸展坐着(或躺着) | |
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7 shudder | |
v.战粟,震动,剧烈地摇晃;n.战粟,抖动 | |
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