Stranger: Indeed?
Cassilda: Indeed it's time. We all have laid aside disguise but you.
Stranger: I wear no mask.
Camilla: (Terrified, aside to Cassilda.) No mask? No mask!
The King in Yellow, Act I, Scene 2.
I
Although I knew nothing of chemistry, I listened fascinated. He picked up an Easter lily which Geneviève had brought that morning from Notre Dame1, and dropped it into the basin. Instantly the liquid lost its crystalline clearness. For a second the lily was enveloped2 in a milk-white foam3, which disappeared, leaving the fluid opalescent4. Changing tints6 of orange and crimson7 played over the surface, and then what seemed to be a ray of pure sunlight struck through from the bottom where the lily was resting. At the same instant he plunged8 his hand into the basin and drew out the flower. "There is no danger," he explained, "if you choose the right moment. That golden ray is the signal."
He held the lily toward me, and I took it in my hand. It had turned to stone, to the purest marble.
The marble was white as snow, but in its depths the veins10 of the lily were tinged11 with palest azure12, and a faint flush lingered deep in its heart.
"Don't ask me the reason of that," he smiled, noticing my wonder. "I have no idea why the veins and heart are tinted13, but they always are. Yesterday I tried one of Geneviève's gold-fish,—there it is."
The fish looked as if sculptured in marble. But if you held it to the light the stone was beautifully veined with a faint blue, and from somewhere within came a rosy14 light like the tint5 which slumbers15 in an opal. I looked into the basin. Once more it seemed filled with clearest crystal.
"If I should touch it now?" I demanded.
"I don't know," he replied, "but you had better not try."
"There is one thing I'm curious about," I said, "and that is where the ray of sunlight came from."
"It looked like a sunbeam true enough," he said. "I don't know, it always comes when I immerse any living thing. Perhaps," he continued, smiling, "perhaps it is the vital spark of the creature escaping to the source from whence it came."
I saw he was mocking, and threatened him with a mahl-stick, but he only laughed and changed the subject.
"Stay to lunch. Geneviève will be here directly."
"I saw her going to early mass," I said, "and she looked as fresh and sweet as that lily—before you destroyed it."
"Do you think I destroyed it?" said Boris gravely.
"Destroyed, preserved, how can we tell?"
We sat in the corner of a studio near his unfinished group of the "Fates." He leaned back on the sofa, twirling a sculptor's chisel16 and squinting17 at his work.
"By the way," he said, "I have finished pointing up that old academic Ariadne, and I suppose it will have to go to the Salon18. It's all I have ready this year, but after the success the 'Madonna' brought me I feel ashamed to send a thing like that."
The "Madonna," an exquisite19 marble for which Geneviève had sat, had been the sensation of last year's Salon. I looked at the Ariadne. It was a magnificent piece of technical work, but I agreed with Boris that the world would expect something better of him than that. Still, it was impossible now to think of finishing in time for the Salon that splendid terrible group half shrouded20 in the marble behind me. The "Fates" would have to wait.
We were proud of Boris Yvain. We claimed him and he claimed us on the strength of his having been born in America, although his father was French and his mother was a Russian. Every one in the Beaux Arts called him Boris. And yet there were only two of us whom he addressed in the same familiar way—Jack Scott and myself.
Perhaps my being in love with Geneviève had something to do with his affection for me. Not that it had ever been acknowledged between us. But after all was settled, and she had told me with tears in her eyes that it was Boris whom she loved, I went over to his house and congratulated him. The perfect cordiality of that interview did not deceive either of us, I always believed, although to one at least it was a great comfort. I do not think he and Geneviève ever spoke21 of the matter together, but Boris knew.
Geneviève was lovely. The Madonna-like purity of her face might have been inspired by the Sanctus in Gounod's Mass. But I was always glad when she changed that mood for what we called her "April Man?uvres." She was often as variable as an April day. In the morning grave, dignified22 and sweet, at noon laughing, capricious, at evening whatever one least expected. I preferred her so rather than in that Madonna-like tranquillity23 which stirred the depths of my heart. I was dreaming of Geneviève when he spoke again.
"What do you think of my discovery, Alec?"
"I think it wonderful."
"I shall make no use of it, you know, beyond satisfying my own curiosity so far as may be, and the secret will die with me."
"It would be rather a blow to sculpture, would it not? We painters lose more than we ever gain by photography."
Boris nodded, playing with the edge of the chisel.
"This new vicious discovery would corrupt24 the world of art. No, I shall never confide25 the secret to any one," he said slowly.
It would be hard to find any one less informed about such phenomena26 than myself; but of course I had heard of mineral springs so saturated27 with silica that the leaves and twigs28 which fell into them were turned to stone after a time. I dimly comprehended the process, how the silica replaced the vegetable matter, atom by atom, and the result was a duplicate of the object in stone. This, I confess, had never interested me greatly, and as for the ancient fossils thus produced, they disgusted me. Boris, it appeared, feeling curiosity instead of repugnance29, had investigated the subject, and had accidentally stumbled on a solution which, attacking the immersed object with a ferocity unheard of, in a second did the work of years. This was all I could make out of the strange story he had just been telling me. He spoke again after a long silence.
"I am almost frightened when I think what I have found. Scientists would go mad over the discovery. It was so simple too; it discovered itself. When I think of that formula, and that new element precipitated30 in metallic31 scales—"
"What new element?"
"Oh, I haven't thought of naming it, and I don't believe I ever shall. There are enough precious metals now in the world to cut throats over."
"No, better;—but see here, Alec!" he laughed, starting up. "You and I have all we need in this world. Ah! how sinister33 and covetous34 you look already!" I laughed too, and told him I was devoured35 by the desire for gold, and we had better talk of something else; so when Geneviève came in shortly after, we had turned our backs on alchemy.
Geneviève was dressed in silvery grey from head to foot. The light glinted along the soft curves of her fair hair as she turned her cheek to Boris; then she saw me and returned my greeting. She had never before failed to blow me a kiss from the tips of her white fingers, and I promptly36 complained of the omission37. She smiled and held out her hand, which dropped almost before it had touched mine; then she said, looking at Boris—
"You must ask Alec to stay for luncheon38." This also was something new. She had always asked me herself until to-day.
"I did," said Boris shortly.
"And you said yes, I hope?" She turned to me with a charming conventional smile. I might have been an acquaintance of the day before yesterday. I made her a low bow. "J'avais bien l'honneur, madame," but refusing to take up our usual bantering39 tone, she murmured a hospitable40 commonplace and disappeared. Boris and I looked at one another.
"I had better go home, don't you think?" I asked.
While we were discussing the advisability of my departure Geneviève reappeared in the doorway42 without her bonnet43. She was wonderfully beautiful, but her colour was too deep and her lovely eyes were too bright. She came straight up to me and took my arm.
"Luncheon is ready. Was I cross, Alec? I thought I had a headache, but I haven't. Come here, Boris;" and she slipped her other arm through his. "Alec knows that after you there is no one in the world whom I like as well as I like him, so if he sometimes feels snubbed it won't hurt him."
"à la bonheur!" I cried, "who says there are no thunderstorms in April?"
"Are you ready?" chanted Boris. "Aye ready;" and arm-in-arm we raced into the dining-room, scandalizing the servants. After all we were not so much to blame; Geneviève was eighteen, Boris was twenty-three, and I not quite twenty-one.
点击收听单词发音
1 dame | |
n.女士 | |
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2 enveloped | |
v.包围,笼罩,包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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3 foam | |
v./n.泡沫,起泡沫 | |
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4 opalescent | |
adj.乳色的,乳白的 | |
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5 tint | |
n.淡色,浅色;染发剂;vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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6 tints | |
色彩( tint的名词复数 ); 带白的颜色; (淡色)染发剂; 痕迹 | |
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7 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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8 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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9 sculptor | |
n.雕刻家,雕刻家 | |
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10 veins | |
n.纹理;矿脉( vein的名词复数 );静脉;叶脉;纹理 | |
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11 tinged | |
v.(使)发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12 azure | |
adj.天蓝色的,蔚蓝色的 | |
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13 tinted | |
adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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14 rosy | |
adj.美好的,乐观的,玫瑰色的 | |
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15 slumbers | |
睡眠,安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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16 chisel | |
n.凿子;v.用凿子刻,雕,凿 | |
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17 squinting | |
斜视( squint的现在分词 ); 眯着眼睛; 瞟; 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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18 salon | |
n.[法]沙龙;客厅;营业性的高级服务室 | |
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19 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
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20 shrouded | |
v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 );保密 | |
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21 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 | |
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22 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
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23 tranquillity | |
n. 平静, 安静 | |
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24 corrupt | |
v.贿赂,收买;adj.腐败的,贪污的 | |
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25 confide | |
v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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26 phenomena | |
n.现象 | |
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27 saturated | |
a.饱和的,充满的 | |
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28 twigs | |
细枝,嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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29 repugnance | |
n.嫌恶 | |
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30 precipitated | |
v.(突如其来地)使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 );促成;猛然摔下;使沉淀 | |
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31 metallic | |
adj.金属的;金属制的;含金属的;产金属的;像金属的 | |
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32 pricked | |
刺,扎,戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 ); 刺伤; 刺痛; 使剧痛 | |
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33 sinister | |
adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
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34 covetous | |
adj.贪婪的,贪心的 | |
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35 devoured | |
吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 ); 耗尽; 津津有味地看; 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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36 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
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37 omission | |
n.省略,删节;遗漏或省略的事物,冗长 | |
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38 luncheon | |
n.午宴,午餐,便宴 | |
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39 bantering | |
adj.嘲弄的v.开玩笑,说笑,逗乐( banter的现在分词 );(善意地)取笑,逗弄 | |
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40 hospitable | |
adj.好客的;宽容的;有利的,适宜的 | |
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41 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
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42 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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43 bonnet | |
n.无边女帽;童帽 | |
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