Elliott was annoyed, partly by Clifford's reticence8, partly by the unexplainable thaw9 in the frigidity10 of Rue Barrée. At their frequent encounters, when she, tripping along the rue de Seine, with music-roll and big straw hat would pass Clifford and his familiars steering11 an easterly course to the Café Vachette, and at the respectful uncovering of the band would colour and smile at Clifford, Elliott's slumbering12 suspicions awoke. But he never found out anything, and finally gave it up as beyond his comprehension, merely qualifying Clifford as an idiot and reserving his opinion of Rue Barrée. And all this time Selby was jealous. At first he refused to acknowledge it to himself, and cut the studio for a day in the country, but the woods and fields of course aggravated13 his case, and the brooks14 babbled15 of Rue Barrée and the mowers calling to each other across the meadow ended in a quavering "Rue Bar-rée-e!" That day spent in the country made him angry for a week, and he worked sulkily at Julian's, all the time tormented16 by a desire to know where Clifford was and what he might be doing. This culminated17 in an erratic18 stroll on Sunday which ended at the flower-market on the Pont au Change, began again, was gloomily extended to the morgue, and again ended at the marble bridge. It would never do, and Selby felt it, so he went to see Clifford, who was convalescing19 on mint juleps in his garden.
They sat down together and discussed morals and human happiness, and each found the other most entertaining, only Selby failed to pump Clifford, to the other's unfeigned amusement. But the juleps spread balm on the sting of jealousy20, and trickled21 hope to the blighted, and when Selby said he must go, Clifford went too, and when Selby, not to be outdone, insisted on accompanying Clifford back to his door, Clifford determined22 to see Selby back half way, and then finding it hard to part, they decided23 to dine together and "flit." To flit, a verb applied24 to Clifford's nocturnal prowls, expressed, perhaps, as well as anything, the gaiety proposed. Dinner was ordered at Mignon's, and while Selby interviewed the chef, Clifford kept a fatherly eye on the butler. The dinner was a success, or was of the sort generally termed a success. Toward the dessert Selby heard some one say as at a great distance, "Kid Selby, drunk as a lord."
A group of men passed near them; it seemed to him that he shook hands and laughed a great deal, and that everybody was very witty25. There was Clifford opposite swearing undying confidence in his chum Selby, and there seemed to be others there, either seated beside them or continually passing with the swish of skirts on the polished floor. The perfume of roses, the rustle26 of fans, the touch of rounded arms and the laughter grew vaguer and vaguer. The room seemed enveloped27 in mist. Then, all in a moment each object stood out painfully distinct, only forms and visages were distorted and voices piercing. He drew himself up, calm, grave, for the moment master of himself, but very drunk. He knew he was drunk, and was as guarded and alert, as keenly suspicious of himself as he would have been of a thief at his elbow. His self-command enabled Clifford to hold his head safely under some running water, and repair to the street considerably28 the worse for wear, but never suspecting that his companion was drunk. For a time he kept his self-command. His face was only a bit paler, a bit tighter than usual; he was only a trifle slower and more fastidious in his speech. It was midnight when he left Clifford peacefully slumbering in somebody's arm-chair, with a long suede29 glove dangling30 in his hand and a plumy boa twisted about his neck to protect his throat from drafts. He walked through the hall and down the stairs, and found himself on the sidewalk in a quarter he did not know. Mechanically he looked up at the name of the street. The name was not familiar. He turned and steered31 his course toward some lights clustered at the end of the street. They proved farther away than he had anticipated, and after a long quest he came to the conclusion that his eyes had been mysteriously removed from their proper places and had been reset32 on either side of his head like those of a bird. It grieved him to think of the inconvenience this transformation33 might occasion him, and he attempted to cock up his head, hen-like, to test the mobility34 of his neck. Then an immense despair stole over him,—tears gathered in the tear-ducts, his heart melted, and he collided with a tree. This shocked him into comprehension; he stifled35 the violent tenderness in his breast, picked up his hat and moved on more briskly. His mouth was white and drawn36, his teeth tightly clinched37. He held his course pretty well and strayed but little, and after an apparently38 interminable length of time found himself passing a line of cabs. The brilliant lamps, red, yellow, and green annoyed him, and he felt it might be pleasant to demolish39 them with his cane40, but mastering this impulse he passed on. Later an idea struck him that it would save fatigue41 to take a cab, and he started back with that intention, but the cabs seemed already so far away and the lanterns were so bright and confusing that he gave it up, and pulling himself together looked around.
A shadow, a mass, huge, undefined, rose to his right. He recognized the Arc de Triomphe and gravely shook his cane at it. Its size annoyed him. He felt it was too big. Then he heard something fall clattering42 to the pavement and thought probably it was his cane but it didn't much matter. When he had mastered himself and regained43 control of his right leg, which betrayed symptoms of insubordination, he found himself traversing the Place de la Concorde at a pace which threatened to land him at the Madeleine. This would never do. He turned sharply to the right and crossing the bridge passed the Palais Bourbon at a trot44 and wheeled into the Boulevard St. Germain. He got on well enough although the size of the War Office struck him as a personal insult, and he missed his cane, which it would have been pleasant to drag along the iron railings as he passed. It occurred to him, however, to substitute his hat, but when he found it he forgot what he wanted it for and replaced it upon his head with gravity. Then he was obliged to battle with a violent inclination45 to sit down and weep. This lasted until he came to the rue de Rennes, but there he became absorbed in contemplating46 the dragon on the balcony overhanging the Cour du Dragon, and time slipped away until he remembered vaguely47 that he had no business there, and marched off again. It was slow work. The inclination to sit down and weep had given place to a desire for solitary48 and deep reflection. Here his right leg forgot its obedience49 and attacking the left, outflanked it and brought him up against a wooden board which seemed to bar his path. He tried to walk around it, but found the street closed. He tried to push it over, and found he couldn't. Then he noticed a red lantern standing50 on a pile of paving-stones inside the barrier. This was pleasant. How was he to get home if the boulevard was blocked? But he was not on the boulevard. His treacherous51 right leg had beguiled52 him into a detour53, for there, behind him lay the boulevard with its endless line of lamps,—and here, what was this narrow dilapidated street piled up with earth and mortar54 and heaps of stone? He looked up. Written in staring black letters on the barrier was
RUE BARRéE.
He sat down. Two policemen whom he knew came by and advised him to get up, but he argued the question from a standpoint of personal taste, and they passed on, laughing. For he was at that moment absorbed in a problem. It was, how to see Rue Barrée. She was somewhere or other in that big house with the iron balconies, and the door was locked, but what of that? The simple idea struck him to shout until she came. This idea was replaced by another equally lucid,—to hammer on the door until she came; but finally rejecting both of these as too uncertain, he decided to climb into the balcony, and opening a window politely inquire for Rue Barrée. There was but one lighted window in the house that he could see. It was on the second floor, and toward this he cast his eyes. Then mounting the wooden barrier and clambering over the piles of stones, he reached the sidewalk and looked up at the fa?ade for a foothold. It seemed impossible. But a sudden fury seized him, a blind, drunken obstinacy55, and the blood rushed to his head, leaping, beating in his ears like the dull thunder of an ocean. He set his teeth, and springing at a window-sill, dragged himself up and hung to the iron bars. Then reason fled; there surged in his brain the sound of many voices, his heart leaped up beating a mad tattoo56, and gripping at cornice and ledge4 he worked his way along the fa?ade, clung to pipes and shutters57, and dragged himself up, over and into the balcony by the lighted window. His hat fell off and rolled against the pane58. For a moment he leaned breathless against the railing—then the window was slowly opened from within.
They stared at each other for some time. Presently the girl took two unsteady steps back into the room. He saw her face,—all crimsoned59 now,—he saw her sink into a chair by the lamplit table, and without a word he followed her into the room, closing the big door-like panes60 behind him. Then they looked at each other in silence.
The room was small and white; everything was white about it,—the curtained bed, the little wash-stand in the corner, the bare walls, the china lamp,—and his own face,—had he known it, but the face and neck of Rue were surging in the colour that dyed the blossoming rose-tree there on the hearth61 beside her. It did not occur to him to speak. She seemed not to expect it. His mind was struggling with the impressions of the room. The whiteness, the extreme purity of everything occupied him—began to trouble him. As his eye became accustomed to the light, other objects grew from the surroundings and took their places in the circle of lamplight. There was a piano and a coal-scuttle and a little iron trunk and a bath-tub. Then there was a row of wooden pegs62 against the door, with a white chintz curtain covering the clothes underneath63. On the bed lay an umbrella and a big straw hat, and on the table, a music-roll unfurled, an ink-stand, and sheets of ruled paper. Behind him stood a wardrobe faced with a mirror, but somehow he did not care to see his own face just then. He was sobering.
The girl sat looking at him without a word. Her face was expressionless, yet the lips at times trembled almost imperceptibly. Her eyes, so wonderfully blue in the daylight, seemed dark and soft as velvet64, and the colour on her neck deepened and whitened with every breath. She seemed smaller and more slender than when he had seen her in the street, and there was now something in the curve of her cheek almost infantine. When at last he turned and caught his own reflection in the mirror behind him, a shock passed through him as though he had seen a shameful65 thing, and his clouded mind and his clouded thoughts grew clearer. For a moment their eyes met then his sought the floor, his lips tightened66, and the struggle within him bowed his head and strained every nerve to the breaking. And now it was over, for the voice within had spoken. He listened, dully interested but already knowing the end,—indeed it little mattered;—the end would always be the same for him;—he understood now—always the same for him, and he listened, dully interested, to a voice which grew within him. After a while he stood up, and she rose at once, one small hand resting on the table. Presently he opened the window, picked up his hat, and shut it again. Then he went over to the rose-bush and touched the blossoms with his face. One was standing in a glass of water on the table and mechanically the girl drew it out, pressed it with her lips and laid it on the table beside him. He took it without a word and crossing the room, opened the door. The landing was dark and silent, but the girl lifted the lamp and gliding67 past him slipped down the polished stairs to the hallway. Then unchaining the bolts, she drew open the iron wicket.
Through this he passed with his rose.
THE END
点击收听单词发音
1 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 convalescence | |
n.病后康复期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 rue | |
n.懊悔,芸香,后悔;v.后悔,悲伤,懊悔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 ledge | |
n.壁架,架状突出物;岩架,岩礁 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 salutes | |
n.致敬,欢迎,敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎,致敬( salute的第三人称单数 );赞扬,赞颂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 wondrous | |
adj.令人惊奇的,奇妙的;adv.惊人地;异乎寻常地;令人惊叹地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 blighted | |
adj.枯萎的,摧毁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 reticence | |
n.沉默,含蓄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 thaw | |
v.(使)融化,(使)变得友善;n.融化,缓和 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 frigidity | |
n.寒冷;冷淡;索然无味;(尤指妇女的)性感缺失 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 steering | |
n.操舵装置 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 slumbering | |
微睡,睡眠(slumber的现在分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 aggravated | |
使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 ); 使更严重; 激怒; 使恼火 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 brooks | |
n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 babbled | |
v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 );作潺潺声(如流水);含糊不清地说话;泄漏秘密 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 tormented | |
饱受折磨的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 culminated | |
v.达到极点( culminate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 erratic | |
adj.古怪的,反复无常的,不稳定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 convalescing | |
v.康复( convalesce的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 jealousy | |
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 trickled | |
v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 );淌;使)慢慢走;缓慢移动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 applied | |
adj.应用的;v.应用,适用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 witty | |
adj.机智的,风趣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 rustle | |
v.沙沙作响;偷盗(牛、马等);n.沙沙声声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 enveloped | |
v.包围,笼罩,包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 considerably | |
adv.极大地;相当大地;在很大程度上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 suede | |
n.表面粗糙的软皮革 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 dangling | |
悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 ); 摆动不定; 用某事物诱惑…; 吊胃口 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 steered | |
v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 );操纵;控制;引导 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 reset | |
v.重新安排,复位;n.重新放置;重放之物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 transformation | |
n.变化;改造;转变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 mobility | |
n.可动性,变动性,情感不定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 stifled | |
(使)窒息, (使)窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 ); 镇压,遏制; 堵 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 clinched | |
v.(尤指两人)互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 );解决(争端、交易),达成(协议) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 demolish | |
v.拆毁(建筑物等),推翻(计划、制度等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 cane | |
n.手杖,细长的茎,藤条;v.以杖击,以藤编制的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 clattering | |
发出咔哒声(clatter的现在分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 regained | |
复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 ); 赢回; 重回; 复至某地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 trot | |
n.疾走,慢跑;n.老太婆;现成译本;(复数)trots:腹泻(与the 连用);v.小跑,快步走,赶紧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 inclination | |
n.倾斜;点头;弯腰;斜坡;倾度;倾向;爱好 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 contemplating | |
深思,细想,仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 ); 注视,凝视; 考虑接受(发生某事的可能性); 深思熟虑,沉思,苦思冥想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 vaguely | |
adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 treacherous | |
adj.不可靠的,有暗藏的危险的;adj.背叛的,背信弃义的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 beguiled | |
v.欺骗( beguile的过去式和过去分词 );使陶醉;使高兴;消磨(时间等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 detour | |
n.绕行的路,迂回路;v.迂回,绕道 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 mortar | |
n.灰浆,灰泥;迫击炮;v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 obstinacy | |
n.顽固;(病痛等)难治 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 tattoo | |
n.纹身,(皮肤上的)刺花纹;vt.刺花纹于 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 shutters | |
百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 ); (照相机的)快门 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 pane | |
n.窗格玻璃,长方块 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 crimsoned | |
变为深红色(crimson的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 panes | |
窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 hearth | |
n.壁炉炉床,壁炉地面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 pegs | |
n.衣夹( peg的名词复数 );挂钉;系帐篷的桩;弦钮v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的第三人称单数 );使固定在某水平 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 underneath | |
adj.在...下面,在...底下;adv.在下面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 shameful | |
adj.可耻的,不道德的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 tightened | |
收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 ); (使)变紧; (使)绷紧; 加紧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 gliding | |
v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |