They lurched, an hour's ride out in Northern New Jersey3, at a little motorists' tavern4 that Hy guided them to. They sat on a shaded veranda5 while the men smoked cigars and the girls smoked cigarettes. After which they set forth6 on what was designed to be a four-hour tramp through the hills to another railroad—Sue and Peter ahead (as it turned out); Hy and Betty lagging behind.
The road curved over hills and down into miniature valleys. There were expanses of plowed7 fields, groves8 of tall bare trees, groups of farmhouses9. Robins10 hopped11 beside the road. The bright sun mitigated12 the crisp sting in the air. A sense of early spring touched eye and ear and nostril13.
Peter felt it; breathed more deeply; actually smiled.
Sue threw back her head and hummed softly.
Hy and Betty dropped farther and farther behind.
Once Sue turned and waved them on; then stood and laughed with sheer good humor at their deliberate, unrhythmical step.
“Come on,” she said to Peter “They don't get it—the joy of it. You have to walk with a steady swing. It takes you a mile or two, at that, to get going. When I'm in my stride, it carries me along so I hate to stop at all. You know, you can't pick it up again right off—the real swing. Walking is a game—a fine game!”
Peter didn't know. He had never thought of walking as a game. He played golf a little, tennis a little less. It had always been difficult for him to hold his mind on these unimportant pursuits. But he found himself responding eagerly.
“You've gone in a lot for athletics,” said he, thinking of the lightness, the sheer ease, with which she had moved about the little Crossroads stage.
“Oh, yes—at school and college—basket ball, running, fencing, dancing and this sort of thing. Dancing especially. I've really worked some at that, you know.”
They swung down into a valley, over a bridge, up the farther slope, through a notch15 and out along a little plateau with a stream winding16 across it.
Peter found himself in some danger of forgetting his earnest purpose. He could fairly taste the fresh spring air. He could not resist occasionally glancing sidelong at his companion and thinking—“She is great in that sweater!” A new soft magic was stealing in everywhere among what he had regarded as his real thoughts and ideas. Once her elbow brushed his; and little flames rose in his spirit.... She walked like a boy. She talked like a boy. She actually seemed to think like a boy. The Worm's remark came to him, with an odd stabbing effect... “We haven't got around to 'the complete life' yet!”
She quite bewildered him. For she distinctly was not a boy. She was a young woman. She couldn't possibly be so free from thoughts of self and the drama of life, of man and the all-conquering urge of nature! As a dramatist, as a student of women, he knew better. No, she couldn't—no more than “friend Betty” back there, philandering17 along with Hy, The Worm had guaranteed her innocence18... but the Worm notoriously didn't understand women. No, it couldn't be true. For she had broken away from her folks. She did live with the regular bunch in the Village. She did undoubtedly19 know her Strindberg and Freud. She had taken up public dancing and acting20. She did smoke her cigarettes—had smoked one not half an hour back, publicly, on the veranda of a road house! ... He felt again the irritation21 she had on other occasions stirred in him.
He slowed down, tense with this bewilderment. He drew his hand across his forehead.
Sue went on a little ahead; then stopped, turned and regarded him with friendly concern!
“Anything the matter?”
“No—oh, no!”
“Perhaps we started too soon after lunch.”
She was babying him!
“No—no... I was thinking of something!...”
Almost angrily he struck out at a swift pace. He would show her who was the weakling in this little party! He would make her cry for mercy!
But she struck out with him. Swinging along at better than four miles an hour they followed the road into another valley and for a mile or two along by a bubbling brook22.
It was Peter who slackened first. His feet began hurting: an old trouble with his arches. And despite the tang in the air, he was dripping with sweat. He mopped his forehead and made a desperate effort to breathe easily.
Sue was a thought flushed, there was a shine in her eyes; she danced a few steps in the road and smiled happily.
“That's the thing!” she cried. “That's the way I love to move along!”
Apparently23 she liked him better for walking like that. It really seemed to make a difference. He set his teeth and struck out again, saying—“All right. Let's have some more of it, then!” And sharp little pains shot through his insteps.
“No,” said she, “it's best to slow down for a while. I like to speed up just now and then. Besides, I've got something on my mind. Let's talk.” He walked in silence, waiting.
“It's about that other talk we had,” said she. “It has bothered me since. I told you your plays were dreadful. You remember?”
He laughed shortly. “Oh, yes; I remember.”
He made no reply to this; merely mopped his forehead again and strode along. The pains were shooting above the insteps now, clear up into the calves26 of his legs.
“I ought to have made myself plainer,” said she. “I remember talking as if you couldn't write at all. Of course I didn't mean that, and I had no right to act as if I held myself superior to a man of your experience. That was silly. What I really meant was that you didn't write from a point of view that I could accept.”
“What you said was,” observed Peter, aiming at her sort of good-humored directness, and missing, “'the difficulty is, it's the whole thing—your attitude toward life—your hopeless sentimentality about women, the slushy horrible Broadway falseness that lies back of everything you do—the Broadway thing, always.'... Those were your words.”
“Oh, no!” She was serious now. He thought she looked hurt, almost. The thought gave him sudden savage27 pleasure. “Surely, I didn't say that.”
“You did. And you added that my insight into life is just about that of a hardened director of one-reel films.”
She was hurt now. She walked on for a little time, quite silent.
Finally she stopped short, looked right at him, threw out her hands (he noted28 and felt the grace of the movement!) and said—
“I don't know how to answer you. Probably I did say just about those words.”
“They are exact... and of course, in one sense, I meant them. I do feel that way about your work. But not at all in the personal sense that you have taken it. And I recognize your ability as clearly as anybody. Can't you see, man—that's exactly the reason I talked that way to you?” There was feeling in her voice now. “I suppose I had a crazy, kiddish notion of converting you, of making you work for us. It was because you are so good at it that I went after you like that. You are worth going after.” She hesitated, and bit her lip. “That's why I was so pleased when Zanin thought he needed you for our big plan and disappointed now that he can't include you in it—because you could help us and we could perhaps help you. Yes, disappointed—in spite of—and—and don't forget the other thing I said, that those of us that believe in truth in the theater owe it to our faith to get to work on the men that supply the plays.... Can't you see, man!”
She threw out her arms again. His eyes, something of the heady spirits that she would perhaps have called sex attraction shining in them now, could see little more than those arms, the slim curves of her body in the sweater and short skirt, her eager glowing face and fine eyes. And his mind could see no more than his eyes.
An automobile29 horn sounded. He caught her arm and hurried her to the roadside. There were more of the large bare trees here; and a rail fence by which they stood.
“You say Zanin has given up the idea of coming to me with his plan?” He spoke30 guardedly, thinking that he must not betray the confidences of Betty and Hy.
“Yes, he has had to.”
“He spoke to me about it, once.”
“Yes, I know. But the man that is going to back him wants to do that part of it himself or have his own director do it.”
Pictures unreeled suddenly before his mind's eye—Sue, in “a pretty primitive31 costume,” exploited at once by the egotistical self-seeking Zanin, the unscrupulous, masterful Silverstone, a temperamental, commercial director! He shivered.
“Look here,” he began—he would fall back on his age and position; he would control this little situation, not drift through it!—“you mentioned my experience. Well, you're right. I've seen these Broadway managers with their coats off. And I've seen what happens to enthusiastic girls that fall into their hands.”
He hesitated; that miserable32 letter flashed on his brain. He could fairly see it. And then his tongue ran wild.
“Don't you know that Broadway is paved with the skulls33 of enthusiastic girls!... Silverstone? Why, if I were to give you a tenth of Silverstone's history you would shrink from him—you wouldn't touch the man's ugly hand. Here you are, young, attractive—yes, beautiful, in your own strange way!—full of a real faith in what you call the truth, on the edge of giving up your youth and your gifts into the hands of a bunch of Broadway crooks34. You talk about me and the Broadway Thing. Good God, can't you see that it's girls like you that make the Broadway Thing possible!... You talk of my sentimentality about women, my 'home-and-mother-stuff,' can't you see the reason for that home-and-mother stuff, for that sentimentality, is the tens of thousands of girls, like you and unlike you who wanted to experiment, who thought they could make the world what they wanted it!”
He paused to breathe. The girl before him was distinctly flushed now, and was facing him with wide eyes—hard eyes, he thought. He had poured out a flood of feeling, and it had left her cold.
She was leaning back against the fence, her arms extended along the top rail, looking and looking at him.
“Silverstone!” he snorted, unable to keep silence “Silverstone! The man's a crook35, I tell you. Nothing that he wants gets away from him. Understand me? Nothing! You people will be children beside him.... Zanin is bad enough. He's smart! He'll wait you out! He doesn't believe in marriage, he doesn't! But Zanin—why, Silverstone'll play with him!”
Her eyes were still on him—wide and cold. Now her lips parted, and she drew in a quick breath, “How on earth,” she said, “did you learn all this! Who told you?”
He shut his lips close together. Plainly he had broken; he had gone wild, cleared the traces. Staring at her, at that sweater, he tried to think.... She would upbraid36 Betty. How would he ever square things with Hy!
He saw her hands grip the fence rail so tightly that her finger-tips went white.
“Tell me,” she said again, with deliberate emphasis, “where you learned these things. Who told you?”
He felt rather than saw the movement of her body within the sweater as she breathed with a slow inhalation. His own breath came quickly. His throat was suddenly dry. He swallowed—once, twice. Then he stepped forward and laid his hand, a trembling hard, on her forearm.
She shook it off and sprang back.
“Don't look at me like that!” his voice said. And rushed on: “Can't you see that I'm pleading for your very life! Can't you see that I know what you are headed for—that I want to save you from yourself—that I love you—that I'm offering you my life—that I want to take you out of this crazy atmosphere of the Village and give...”
He stopped, partly because he was out of breath, and felt, besides, as if his tonsils had abruptly37 swollen38 and filled his throat; partly because she turned deliberately39 away from him.
He waited, uneasily leaning against the fence while she walked off a little way, very slowly; stood thinking; then came back. She looked rather white now, he thought.
“Suppose,” she said, “we drop this and finish our walk. It's a good three hours yet over to the other railroad. We may as well make a job of it.”
“Oh, Sue,” he cried—“how can you!...”
She stopped him. “Please!” she said.
“But—but—”
“Please!” she said again.
“But—but—”
She turned away. “I simply can not keep up this personal talk. I would be glad to finish the walk with you, but...”
He pulled himself together amid the wreckage40 of his thoughts and feelings. “But if I won't or can't, you'll have to walk alone,” he said for her.
“Yes, I did mean that. I am sorry. I did hope it would be possible.” She compressed her lips, then added: “Of course I should have seen that it wasn't possible, after what happened.”
“Very well,” said he.
They walked on, silent, past the woods, past more plowed fields, up another hillside.
She broke the silence. Gravely, she said: “I will say just one thing more, since you already know so much. Zarin signs up with Silverstone to-morrow morning. Or as soon as they can finish drawing up the contracts. Then within one or two weeks—very soon, certainly—we go down to Cuba or Florida to begin taking the outdoor scenes. That, you see, settles it.”
Peter's mind blurred41 again. Ugly foggy thoughts rushed over it. He stopped short, his long gloomy face workhing nervously42.
“Good God!” he broke out. “You mean to say—you're going to let those crooks take you off—to Cuba! Don't you see...”
There was no object in saying more. Even Peter could see that. For Sue, after one brief look at his sputtering43, distorted face, had turned away and was now walking swiftly on up the hill.
“Wait!” he called. “Sue!”
She reached the top of the hill, passed on over the crest44. Gradually she disappeared down the farther slope—the tam o'shanter last.
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收听单词发音
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1
anonymous
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| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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2
playwright
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| n.剧作家，编写剧本的人 | |
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3
jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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4
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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5
veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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6
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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7
plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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8
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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9
farmhouses
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| n.农舍，农场的主要住房( farmhouse的名词复数 ) | |
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10
robins
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| n.知更鸟，鸫( robin的名词复数 )；（签名者不分先后，以避免受责的）圆形签名抗议书（或请愿书） | |
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11
hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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12
mitigated
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| v.减轻，缓和( mitigate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13
nostril
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| n.鼻孔 | |
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14
moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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15
notch
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| n.(V字形)槽口，缺口，等级 | |
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16
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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17
philandering
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| v.调戏，玩弄女性( philander的现在分词 ) | |
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18
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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19
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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20
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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21
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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22
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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23
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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24
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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25
outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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26
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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27
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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28
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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29
automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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30
spoke
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| 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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31
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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32
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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33
skulls
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| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
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34
crooks
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| n.骗子( crook的名词复数 )；罪犯；弯曲部分；（牧羊人或主教用的）弯拐杖v.弯成钩形( crook的第三人称单数 ) | |
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35
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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36
upbraid
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| v.斥责，责骂，责备 | |
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37
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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38
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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39
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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40
wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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41
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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42
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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43
sputtering
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| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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44
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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