During this space he had not been to his mother’s dismal3 old house. One of his customary evenings for repairing thither4 now coming round, he left his dwelling5 and his partner at nearly nine o’clock, and slowly walked in the direction of that grim home of his youth.
It always affected6 his imagination as wrathful, mysterious, and sad; and his imagination was sufficiently7 impressible to see the whole neighbourhood under some tinge8 of its dark shadow. As he went along, upon a dreary9 night, the dim streets by which he went, seemed all depositories of oppressive secrets. The deserted10 counting-houses, with their secrets of books and papers locked up in chests and safes; the banking-houses, with their secrets of strong rooms and wells, the keys of which were in a very few secret pockets and a very few secret breasts; the secrets of all the dispersed11 grinders in the vast mill, among whom there were doubtless plunderers, forgers, and trust-betrayers of many sorts, whom the light of any day that dawned might reveal; he could have fancied that these things, in hiding, imparted a heaviness to the air. The shadow thickening and thickening as he approached its source, he thought of the secrets of the lonely church-vaults, where the people who had hoarded12 and secreted13 in iron coffers were in their turn similarly hoarded, not yet at rest from doing harm; and then of the secrets of the river, as it rolled its turbid14 tide between two frowning wildernesses15 of secrets, extending, thick and dense16, for many miles, and warding17 off the free air and the free country swept by winds and wings of birds.
The shadow still darkening as he drew near the house, the melancholy18 room which his father had once occupied, haunted by the appealing face he had himself seen fade away with him when there was no other watcher by the bed, arose before his mind. Its close air was secret. The gloom, and must, and dust of the whole tenement19, were secret. At the heart of it his mother presided, inflexible20 of face, indomitable of will, firmly holding all the secrets of her own and his father’s life, and austerely21 opposing herself, front to front, to the great final secret of all life.
He had turned into the narrow and steep street from which the court of enclosure wherein the house stood opened, when another footstep turned into it behind him, and so close upon his own that he was jostled to the wall. As his mind was teeming22 with these thoughts, the encounter took him altogether unprepared, so that the other passenger had had time to say, boisterously23, ‘Pardon! Not my fault!’ and to pass on before the instant had elapsed which was requisite24 to his recovery of the realities about him.
When that moment had flashed away, he saw that the man striding on before him was the man who had been so much in his mind during the last few days. It was no casual resemblance, helped out by the force of the impression the man made upon him. It was the man; the man he had followed in company with the girl, and whom he had overheard talking to Miss Wade.
The street was a sharp descent and was crooked25 too, and the man (who although not drunk had the air of being flushed with some strong drink) went down it so fast that Clennam lost him as he looked at him. With no defined intention of following him, but with an impulse to keep the figure in view a little longer, Clennam quickened his pace to pass the twist in the street which hid him from his sight. On turning it, he saw the man no more.
Standing26 now, close to the gateway27 of his mother’s house, he looked down the street: but it was empty. There was no projecting shadow large enough to obscure the man; there was no turning near that he could have taken; nor had there been any audible sound of the opening and closing of a door. Nevertheless, he concluded that the man must have had a key in his hand, and must have opened one of the many house-doors and gone in.
Ruminating28 on this strange chance and strange glimpse, he turned into the court-yard. As he looked, by mere29 habit, towards the feebly lighted windows of his mother’s room, his eyes encountered the figure he had just lost, standing against the iron railings of the little waste enclosure looking up at those windows and laughing to himself. Some of the many vagrant30 cats who were always prowling about there by night, and who had taken fright at him, appeared to have stopped when he had stopped, and were looking at him with eyes by no means unlike his own from tops of walls and porches, and other safe points of pause. He had only halted for a moment to entertain himself thus; he immediately went forward, throwing the end of his cloak off his shoulder as he went, ascended31 the unevenly32 sunken steps, and knocked a sounding knock at the door.
Clennam’s surprise was not so absorbing but that he took his resolution without any incertitude33. He went up to the door too, and ascended the steps too. His friend looked at him with a braggart34 air, and sang to himself.
‘Who passes by this road so late?
Compagnon de la Majolaine;
Who passes by this road so late?
Always gay!’
After which he knocked again.
‘You are impatient, sir,’ said Arthur.
‘I am, sir. Death of my life, sir,’ returned the stranger, ‘it’s my character to be impatient!’
The sound of Mistress Affery cautiously chaining the door before she opened it, caused them both to look that way. Affery opened it a very little, with a flaring35 candle in her hands and asked who was that, at that time of night, with that knock! ‘Why, Arthur!’ she added with astonishment36, seeing him first. ‘Not you sure? Ah, Lord save us! No,’ she cried out, seeing the other. ‘Him again!’
‘It’s true! Him again, dear Mrs Flintwinch,’ cried the stranger. ‘Open the door, and let me take my dear friend Jeremiah to my arms! Open the door, and let me hasten myself to embrace my Flintwinch!’
‘He’s not at home,’ cried Affery.
‘Fetch him!’ cried the stranger. ‘Fetch my Flintwinch! Tell him that it is his old Blandois, who comes from arriving in England; tell him that it is his little boy who is here, his cabbage, his well-beloved! Open the door, beautiful Mrs Flintwinch, and in the meantime let me to pass upstairs, to present my compliments—homage of Blandois—to my lady! My lady lives always? It is well. Open then!’
To Arthur’s increased surprise, Mistress Affery, stretching her eyes wide at himself, as if in warning that this was not a gentleman for him to interfere37 with, drew back the chain, and opened the door. The stranger, without ceremony, walked into the hall, leaving Arthur to follow him.
‘Despatch then! Achieve then! Bring my Flintwinch! Announce me to my lady!’ cried the stranger, clanking about the stone floor.
‘Pray tell me, Affery,’ said Arthur aloud and sternly, as he surveyed him from head to foot with indignation; ‘who is this gentleman?’
‘Pray tell me, Affery,’ the stranger repeated in his turn, ‘who—ha, ha, ha!—who is this gentleman?’
The voice of Mrs Clennam opportunely38 called from her chamber40 above, ‘Affery, let them both come up. Arthur, come straight to me!’
‘Arthur?’ exclaimed Blandois, taking off his hat at arm’s length, and bringing his heels together from a great stride in making him a flourishing bow. ‘The son of my lady? I am the all-devoted of the son of my lady!’
Arthur looked at him again in no more flattering manner than before, and, turning on his heel without acknowledgment, went up-stairs. The visitor followed him up-stairs. Mistress Affery took the key from behind the door, and deftly41 slipped out to fetch her lord.
A bystander, informed of the previous appearance of Monsieur Blandois in that room, would have observed a difference in Mrs Clennam’s present reception of him. Her face was not one to betray it; and her suppressed manner, and her set voice, were equally under her control. It wholly consisted in her never taking her eyes off his face from the moment of his entrance, and in her twice or thrice, when he was becoming noisy, swaying herself a very little forward in the chair in which she sat upright, with her hands immovable upon its elbows; as if she gave him the assurance that he should be presently heard at any length he would. Arthur did not fail to observe this; though the difference between the present occasion and the former was not within his power of observation.
‘Madame,’ said Blandois, ‘do me the honour to present me to Monsieur, your son. It appears to me, madame, that Monsieur, your son, is disposed to complain of me. He is not polite.’
‘Sir,’ said Arthur, striking in expeditiously42, ‘whoever you are, and however you come to be here, if I were the master of this house I would lose no time in placing you on the outside of it.’
‘But you are not,’ said his mother, without looking at him. ‘Unfortunately for the gratification of your unreasonable43 temper, you are not the master, Arthur.’
‘I make no claim to be, mother. If I object to this person’s manner of conducting himself here, and object to it so much, that if I had any authority here I certainly would not suffer him to remain a minute, I object on your account.’
‘In the case of objection being necessary,’ she returned, ‘I could object for myself. And of course I should.’
The subject of their dispute, who had seated himself, laughed aloud, and rapped his legs with his hand.
‘You have no right,’ said Mrs Clennam, always intent on Blandois, however directly she addressed her son, ‘to speak to the prejudice of any gentleman (least of all a gentleman from another country), because he does not conform to your standard, or square his behaviour by your rules. It is possible that the gentleman may, on similar grounds, object to you.’
‘I hope so,’ returned Arthur.
‘The gentleman,’ pursued Mrs Clennam, ‘on a former occasion brought a letter of recommendation to us from highly esteemed44 and responsible correspondents. I am perfectly45 unacquainted with the gentleman’s object in coming here at present. I am entirely46 ignorant of it, and cannot be supposed likely to be able to form the remotest guess at its nature;’ her habitual47 frown became stronger, as she very slowly and weightily emphasised those words; ‘but, when the gentleman proceeds to explain his object, as I shall beg him to have the goodness to do to myself and Flintwinch, when Flintwinch returns, it will prove, no doubt, to be one more or less in the usual way of our business, which it will be both our business and our pleasure to advance. It can be nothing else.’
‘We shall see, madame!’ said the man of business.
‘We shall see,’ she assented48. ‘The gentleman is acquainted with Flintwinch; and when the gentleman was in London last, I remember to have heard that he and Flintwinch had some entertainment or good-fellowship together. I am not in the way of knowing much that passes outside this room, and the jingle49 of little worldly things beyond it does not much interest me; but I remember to have heard that.’
‘Right, madame. It is true.’ He laughed again, and whistled the burden of the tune39 he had sung at the door.
‘Therefore, Arthur,’ said his mother, ‘the gentleman comes here as an acquaintance, and no stranger; and it is much to be regretted that your unreasonable temper should have found offence in him. I regret it. I say so to the gentleman. You will not say so, I know; therefore I say it for myself and Flintwinch, since with us two the gentleman’s business lies.’
The key of the door below was now heard in the lock, and the door was heard to open and close. In due sequence Mr Flintwinch appeared; on whose entrance the visitor rose from his chair, laughing loud, and folded him in a close embrace.
‘How goes it, my cherished friend!’ said he. ‘How goes the world, my Flintwinch? Rose-coloured? So much the better, so much the better! Ah, but you look charming! Ah, but you look young and fresh as the flowers of Spring! Ah, good little boy! Brave child, brave child!’
While heaping these compliments on Mr Flintwinch, he rolled him about with a hand on each of his shoulders, until the staggerings of that gentleman, who under the circumstances was dryer50 and more twisted than ever, were like those of a teetotum nearly spent.
0486m
Original
‘I had a presentiment51, last time, that we should be better and more intimately acquainted. Is it coming on you, Flintwinch? Is it yet coming on?’
‘Why, no, sir,’ retorted Mr Flintwinch. ‘Not unusually. Hadn’t you better be seated? You have been calling for some more of that port, sir, I guess?’
‘Ah, Little joker! Little pig!’ cried the visitor. ‘Ha ha ha ha!’ And throwing Mr Flintwinch away, as a closing piece of raillery, he sat down again.
The amazement52, suspicion, resentment53, and shame, with which Arthur looked on at all this, struck him dumb. Mr Flintwinch, who had spun54 backward some two or three yards under the impetus55 last given to him, brought himself up with a face completely unchanged in its stolidity56 except as it was affected by shortness of breath, and looked hard at Arthur. Not a whit57 less reticent58 and wooden was Mr Flintwinch outwardly, than in the usual course of things: the only perceptible difference in him being that the knot of cravat59 which was generally under his ear, had worked round to the back of his head: where it formed an ornamental60 appendage61 not unlike a bagwig, and gave him something of a courtly appearance.
As Mrs Clennam never removed her eyes from Blandois (on whom they had some effect, as a steady look has on a lower sort of dog), so Jeremiah never removed his from Arthur. It was as if they had tacitly agreed to take their different provinces. Thus, in the ensuing silence, Jeremiah stood scraping his chin and looking at Arthur as though he were trying to screw his thoughts out of him with an instrument.
After a little, the visitor, as if he felt the silence irksome, rose, and impatiently put himself with his back to the sacred fire which had burned through so many years. Thereupon Mrs Clennam said, moving one of her hands for the first time, and moving it very slightly with an action of dismissal:
‘Please to leave us to our business, Arthur.’
‘Mother, I do so with reluctance62.’
‘Never mind with what,’ she returned, ‘or with what not. Please to leave us. Come back at any other time when you may consider it a duty to bury half an hour wearily here. Good night.’
She held up her muffled63 fingers that he might touch them with his, according to their usual custom, and he stood over her wheeled chair to touch her face with his lips. He thought, then, that her cheek was more strained than usual, and that it was colder. As he followed the direction of her eyes, in rising again, towards Mr Flintwinch’s good friend, Mr Blandois, Mr Blandois snapped his finger and thumb with one loud contemptuous snap.
‘I leave your—your business acquaintance in my mother’s room, Mr Flintwinch,’ said Clennam, ‘with a great deal of surprise and a great deal of unwillingness64.’
The person referred to snapped his finger and thumb again.
‘Good night, mother.’
‘Good night.’
‘I had a friend once, my good comrade Flintwinch,’ said Blandois, standing astride before the fire, and so evidently saying it to arrest Clennam’s retreating steps, that he lingered near the door; ‘I had a friend once, who had heard so much of the dark side of this city and its ways, that he wouldn’t have confided65 himself alone by night with two people who had an interest in getting him under the ground—my faith! not even in a respectable house like this—unless he was bodily too strong for them. Bah! What a poltroon66, my Flintwinch! Eh?’
‘A cur, sir.’
‘Agreed! A cur. But he wouldn’t have done it, my Flintwinch, unless he had known them to have the will to silence him, without the power. He wouldn’t have drunk from a glass of water under such circumstances—not even in a respectable house like this, my Flintwinch—unless he had seen one of them drink first, and swallow too!’
Disdaining67 to speak, and indeed not very well able, for he was half-choking, Clennam only glanced at the visitor as he passed out. The visitor saluted68 him with another parting snap, and his nose came down over his moustache and his moustache went up under his nose, in an ominous69 and ugly smile.
‘For Heaven’s sake, Affery,’ whispered Clennam, as she opened the door for him in the dark hall, and he groped his way to the sight of the night-sky, ‘what is going on here?’
Her own appearance was sufficiently ghastly, standing in the dark with her apron70 thrown over her head, and speaking behind it in a low, deadened voice.
‘Don’t ask me anything, Arthur. I’ve been in a dream for ever so long. Go away!’
He went out, and she shut the door upon him. He looked up at the windows of his mother’s room, and the dim light, deadened by the yellow blinds, seemed to say a response after Affery, and to mutter, ‘Don’t ask me anything. Go away!’
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
circumlocution
|
|
| n. 绕圈子的话，迂回累赘的陈述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
wade
|
|
| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
dismal
|
|
| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
tinge
|
|
| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
dispersed
|
|
| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
hoarded
|
|
| v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
secreted
|
|
| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的过去式和过去分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
turbid
|
|
| adj.混浊的，泥水的，浓的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
wildernesses
|
|
| 荒野( wilderness的名词复数 )； 沙漠； （政治家）在野； 不再当政（或掌权） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
warding
|
|
| 监护，守护（ward的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
tenement
|
|
| n.公寓；房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
inflexible
|
|
| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
austerely
|
|
| adv.严格地，朴质地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
teeming
|
|
| adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
boisterously
|
|
| adv.喧闹地，吵闹地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
requisite
|
|
| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
crooked
|
|
| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
gateway
|
|
| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
ruminating
|
|
| v.沉思( ruminate的现在分词 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
vagrant
|
|
| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
ascended
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
unevenly
|
|
| adv.不均匀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
incertitude
|
|
| n.疑惑，不确定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
braggart
|
|
| n.吹牛者；adj.吹牛的，自夸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
flaring
|
|
| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
opportunely
|
|
| adv.恰好地，适时地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
tune
|
|
| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
deftly
|
|
| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
expeditiously
|
|
| adv.迅速地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
unreasonable
|
|
| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
esteemed
|
|
| adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
habitual
|
|
| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
assented
|
|
| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
jingle
|
|
| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
dryer
|
|
| n.干衣机，干燥剂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
presentiment
|
|
| n.预感，预觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
spun
|
|
| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
impetus
|
|
| n.推动，促进，刺激；推动力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
stolidity
|
|
| n.迟钝，感觉麻木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
whit
|
|
| n.一点，丝毫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
reticent
|
|
| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
cravat
|
|
| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
ornamental
|
|
| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
appendage
|
|
| n.附加物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
reluctance
|
|
| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
muffled
|
|
| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
unwillingness
|
|
| n. 不愿意，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
confided
|
|
| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
poltroon
|
|
| n.胆怯者；懦夫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
disdaining
|
|
| 鄙视( disdain的现在分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
68
saluted
|
|
| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
ominous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
apron
|
|
| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |