There are men who love to gaze with the mind at[30] things that can never be seen, feel at least the throb13 of a beauty that will never be known, and hear over immense bleak reaches the echo of that which is not celestial14 music, but only their own hearts’ vain cries; and though his garments clung to him like clay it was with deliberate questing step that the traveller trod the single street of the town, and at last entered the inn, shuffling15 his shoes in the doorway16 for a moment and striking the raindrops from his hat. Then he turned into a small smoking-room. Leather-lined benches, much worn, were fixed17 to the wall under the window and in other odd corners and nooks behind mahogany tables. One wall was furnished with all the congenial gear of a bar, but without any intervening counter. Opposite a bright fire was burning, and a neatly-dressed young woman sat before it in a Windsor chair, staring at the flames. There was no other inmate18 of the room, and as he entered the girl rose up and greeted him. He found that he could be accommodated for the night, and in a few moments his hat and scarf were removed and placed inside the fender, his wet overcoat was taken to the kitchen, the landlord, an old fellow, was lending him a roomy pair of slippers19, and a maid was setting supper in an adjoining room.
He sat while this was doing and talked to the barmaid. She had a beautiful, but rather mournful, face as it was lit by the firelight, and when her glance was turned away from it her eyes had a piercing brightness. Friendly and well-spoken as she was, the melancholy20 in her aspect was noticeable—perhaps it was the dim[31] room, or the wet day, or the long hours ministering a multitude of cocktails21 to thirsty gallantry.
When he went to his supper he found cheering food and drink, with pleasant garniture of silver and mahogany. There were no other visitors, he was to be alone; blinds were drawn22, lamps lit, and the fire at his back was comforting. So he sat long about his meal until a white-faced maid came to clear the table, discoursing23 to him of country things as she busied about the room. It was a long narrow room, with a sideboard and the door at one end and the fireplace at the other. A bookshelf, almost devoid24 of books, contained a number of plates; the long wall that faced the windows was almost destitute25 of pictures, but there were hung upon it, for some inscrutable but doubtless sufficient reason, many dish-covers, solidly shaped, of the kind held in such mysterious regard and known as “willow pattern”; one was even hung upon the face of a map. Two musty prints were mixed with them, presentments of horses having a stilted26, extravagant27 physique and bestridden by images of inhuman28 and incommunicable dignity, clothed in whiskers, coloured jackets, and tight white breeches.
He took down the books from the shelf, but his interest was speedily exhausted29, and the almanacs, the county directory, and various guide-books were exchanged for the Cotswold Chronicle. With this, having drawn the deep chair to the hearth30, he whiled away the time. The newspaper amused him with its advertisements of stock shows, farm auctions,[32] travelling quacks31 and conjurers, and there was a lengthy32 account of the execution of a local felon33, one Timothy Bridger, who had murdered an infant in some shameful34 circumstances. This dazzling crescendo35 proved rather trying to the traveller; he threw down the paper.
The town was all quiet as the hills, and he could hear no sounds in the house. He got up and went across the hall to the smoke-room. The door was shut, but there was light within, and he entered. The girl sat there much as he had seen her on his arrival, still alone, with feet on fender. He shut the door behind him, sat down, and crossing his legs puffed36 at his pipe, admired the snug little room and the pretty figure of the girl, which he could do without embarrassment37 as her meditative38 head, slightly bowed, was turned away from him. He could see something of her, too, in the mirror at the bar, which repeated also the agreeable contours of bottles of coloured wines and rich liqueurs—so entrancing in form and aspect that they seemed destined39 to charming histories, even in disuse—and those of familiar outline containing mere40 spirits or small beer, for which are reserved the harsher destinies of base oils, horse medicines, disinfectants, and cold tea. There were coloured glasses for bitter wines, white glasses for sweet, a tiny leaden sink beneath them, and the four black handles of the beer engine.
The girl wore a light blouse of silk, a short skirt of black velvet41, and a pair of very thin silk stockings that showed the flesh of instep and shin so plainly that he could see they were reddened by the warmth of the[33] fire. She had on a pair of dainty cloth shoes with high heels, but what was wonderful about her was the heap of rich black hair piled at the back of her head and shadowing the dusky neck. He sat puffing42 his pipe and letting the loud tick of the clock fill the quiet room. She did not stir and he could move no muscle. It was as if he had been willed to come there and wait silently. That, he felt now, had been his desire all the evening; and here, in her presence, he was more strangely stirred than by any event he could remember.
In youth he had viewed women as futile43 pitiable things that grew long hair, wore stays and garters, and prayed incomprehensible prayers. Viewing them in the stalls of the theatre from his vantage-point in the gallery, he always disliked the articulation44 of their naked shoulders. But still, there was a god in the sky, a god with flowing hair and exquisite45 eyes, whose one stride with an ardour grandly rendered took him across the whole round hemisphere to which his buoyant limbs were bound like spokes46 to the eternal rim47 and axle, his bright hair burning in the pity of the sunsets and tossing in the anger of the dawns.
Master traveller had indeed come into this room to be with this woman: she as surely desired him, and for all its accidental occasion it was as if he, walking the ways of the world, had suddenly come upon ... what so imaginable with all permitted reverence48 as, well, just a shrine49; and he, admirably humble50, bowed the instant head.
Were there no other people within? The clock indicated a few minutes to nine. He sat on, still as stone,[34] and the woman might have been of wax for all the movement or sound she made. There was allurement51 in the air between them; he had forborne his smoking, the pipe grew cold between his teeth. He waited for a look from her, a movement to break the trance of silence. No footfall in street or house, no voice in the inn but the clock beating away as if pronouncing a doom52. Suddenly it rasped out nine large notes, a bell in the town repeated them dolefully, and a cuckoo no further than the kitchen mocked them with three times three. After that came the weak steps of the old landlord along the hall, the slam of doors, the clatter53 of lock and bolt, and then the silence returning unendurably upon them.
He arose and stood behind her; he touched the black hair. She made no movement or sign. He pulled out two or three combs, and dropping them into her lap let the whole mass tumble about his hands. It had a curious harsh touch in the unravelling54, but was so full and shining; black as a rook’s wings it was. He slid his palms through it. His fingers searched it and fought with its fine strangeness; into his mind there travelled a serious thought, stilling his wayward fancy—this was no wayward fancy, but a rite55 accomplishing itself! (Run, run, silly man, y’are lost.) But having got so far he burnt his boats, leaned over, and drew her face back to him. And at that, seizing his wrists, she gave him back ardour for ardour, pressing his hands to her bosom56, while the kiss was sealed and sealed again. Then she sprang up and picking his hat and scarf from the fender said:
[35]
“I have been drying them for you, but the hat has shrunk a bit, I’m sure—I tried it on.”
He took them from her and put them behind him; he leaned lightly back upon the table, holding it with both his hands behind him; he could not speak.
“Aren’t you going to thank me for drying them?” she asked, picking her combs from the rug and repinning her hair.
“I wonder why we did that?” he asked, shamedly.
“It is what I’m thinking too,” she said.
“You were so beautiful about ... about it, you know.”
She made no rejoinder, but continued to bind57 her hair, looking brightly at him under her brows. When she had finished she went close to him.
“Will that do?”
“I’ll take it down again.”
“No, no, the old man or the old woman will be coming in.”
“What of that?” he said, taking her into his arms, “tell me your name.”
She shook her head, but she returned his kisses and stroked his hair and shoulders with beautifully melting gestures.
“What is your name, I want to call you by your name?” he said; “I can’t keep calling you Lovely Woman, Lovely Woman.”
Again she shook her head and was dumb.
“I’ll call you Ruth then, Dusky Ruth, Ruth of the black, beautiful hair.”
“That is a nice-sounding name—I knew a deaf and[36] dumb girl named Ruth; she went to Nottingham and married an organ-grinder—but I should like it for my name.”
“Then I give it to you.”
“Mine is so ugly.”
“What is it?”
“Then you shall be Ruth; will you keep that name?”
“Yes, if you give me the name I will keep it for you.”
Time had indeed taken them by the forelock, and they looked upon a ruddled world.
“I stake my one talent,” he said jestingly, “and behold59 it returns me fortyfold; I feel like the boy who catches three mice with one piece of cheese.”
At ten o’clock the girl said:
“I must go and see how they are getting on,” and she went to the door.
“Are we keeping them up?”
She nodded.
“Are you tired?”
“No, I am not tired.”
She looked at him doubtfully.
“We ought not to stay in here; go into the coffee-room and I’ll come there in a few minutes.”
She stood at the door for him to pass out, and he crossed the hall to the other room. It was in darkness except for the flash of the fire. Standing61 at the hearth he lit a match for the lamp, but paused at the globe; then he extinguished the match.
“No, it’s better to sit in the firelight.”
[37]
“Lord,” he thought, “she is getting into a row?”
Then her steps came echoing over the stone floors of the hall; she opened the door and stood there with a lighted candle in her hand; he stood at the other end of the room, smiling.
“Good night,” she said.
“Oh no, no! come along,” he protested, but not moving from the hearth.
“Got to go to bed,” she answered.
“Are they angry with you?”
“No.”
“Well, then, come over here and sit down.”
“Got to go to bed,” she said again, but she had meanwhile put her candlestick upon the little sideboard and was trimming the wick with a burnt match.
“Oh, come along, just half an hour,” he protested. She did not answer but went on prodding63 the wick of the candle.
“Ten minutes, then,” he said, still not going towards her.
“Five minutes,” he begged.
She shook her head, and picking up the candlestick turned to the door. He did not move, he just called her name: “Ruth!”
She came back then, put down the candlestick and tiptoed across the room until he met her. The bliss64 of the embrace was so poignant65 that he was almost glad when she stood up again and said with affected66 steadiness, though he heard the tremor67 in her voice:
[38]
“I must get you your candle.”
She brought one from the hall, set it on the table in front of him, and struck the match.
“What is my number?” he asked.
“Number six room,” she answered, prodding the wick vaguely68 with her match, while a slip of white wax dropped over the shoulder of the new candle. “Number six ... next to mine.”
In a few moments he ascended70 the stairs and went into his room. He fastened the door, removed his coat, collar, and slippers, but the rack of passion had seized him and he moved about with no inclination71 to sleep. He sat down, but there was no medium of distraction72. He tried to read the newspaper which he had carried up with him, and without realizing a single phrase he forced himself to read again the whole account of the execution of the miscreant73 Bridger. When he had finished this he carefully folded the paper and stood up, listening. He went to the parting wall and tapped thereon with his finger tips. He waited half a minute, one minute, two minutes; there was no answering sign. He tapped again, more loudly, with his knuckles74, but there was no response, and he tapped many times. He opened his door as noiselessly as possible; along the dark passage there were slips of light under the other doors, the one next his own, and the one beyond that. He stood in the corridor listening to the rumble75 of old voices in the farther room, the old man and his wife going to their rest. Holding[39] his breath fearfully, he stepped to her door and tapped gently upon it. There was no answer, but he could somehow divine her awareness76 of him; he tapped again; she moved to the door and whispered “No, no, go away.” He turned the handle, the door was locked.
“Let me in,” he pleaded. He knew she was standing there an inch or two beyond him.
“Hush,” she called softly. “Go away, the old woman has ears like a fox.”
He stood silent for a moment.
“Unlock it,” he urged; but he got no further reply, and feeling foolish and baffled he moved back to his own room, cast his clothes from him, doused77 the candle and crept into the bed with soul as wild as a storm-swept forest, his heart beating a vagrant78 summons. The room filled with strange heat, there was no composure for mind or limb, nothing but flaming visions and furious embraces.
“Morality ... what is it but agreement with your own soul?”
So he lay for two hours—the clocks chimed twelve—listening with foolish persistency79 for her step along the corridor, fancying every light sound—and the night was full of them—was her hand upon the door.
Suddenly,—and then it seemed as if his very heart would abash80 the house with its thunder—he could hear distinctly someone knocking on the wall. He got quickly from his bed and stood at the door, listening. Again the knocking was heard, and having half-clothed himself he crept into the passage, which was now in utter darkness, trailing his hand along the wall until[40] he felt her door; it was standing open. He entered her room and closed the door behind him. There was not the faintest gleam of light, he could see nothing. He whispered “Ruth!” and she was standing there. She touched him, but not speaking. He put out his hands, and they met round her neck; her hair was flowing in its great wave about her; he put his lips to her face and found that her eyes were streaming with tears, salt and strange and disturbing. In the close darkness he put his arms about her with no thought but to comfort her; one hand had plunged81 through the long harsh tresses and the other across her hips82 before he realized that she was ungowned; then he was aware of the softness of her breasts and the cold naked sleekness83 of her shoulders. But she was crying there, crying silently with great tears, her strange sorrow stifling84 his desire.
“Ruth, Ruth, my beautiful dear!” he murmured soothingly85. He felt for the bed with one hand, and turning back the quilt and sheets he lifted her in as easily as a mother does her child, replaced the bedding, and, in his clothes, he lay stretched beside her comforting her. They lay so, innocent as children, for an hour, when she seemed to have gone to sleep. He rose then and went silently to his room, full of weariness.
In the morning he breakfasted without seeing her, but as he had business in the world that gave him just an hour longer at the Inn before he left it for good and all, he went into the smoke-room and found her. She greeted him with curious gaze, but merrily enough, for there were other men there now, farmers, a butcher,[41] a registrar86, an old, old man. The hour passed, but not these men, and at length he donned his coat, took up his stick, and said good-bye. Her shining glances followed him to the door, and from the window as far as they could view him.
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1
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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2
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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3
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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4
detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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5
dabs
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| 少许( dab的名词复数 )； 是…能手； 做某事很在行； 在某方面技术熟练 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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8
thatch
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| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
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9
riddled
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| adj.布满的；充斥的；泛滥的v.解谜，出谜题(riddle的过去分词形式) | |
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10
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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11
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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12
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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13
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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14
celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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15
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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16
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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17
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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18
inmate
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| n.被收容者；(房屋等的)居住人；住院人 | |
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19
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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20
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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21
cocktails
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| n.鸡尾酒( cocktail的名词复数 )；餐前开胃菜；混合物 | |
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22
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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23
discoursing
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| 演说（discourse的现在分词形式） | |
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24
devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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25
destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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26
stilted
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| adj.虚饰的；夸张的 | |
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27
extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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28
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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29
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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30
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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31
quacks
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| abbr.quacksalvers 庸医，骗子(16世纪习惯用水银或汞治疗梅毒的人)n.江湖医生( quack的名词复数 )；江湖郎中；（鸭子的）呱呱声v.（鸭子）发出嘎嘎声( quack的第三人称单数 ) | |
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32
lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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33
felon
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| n.重罪犯；adj.残忍的 | |
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34
shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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35
crescendo
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| n.(音乐)渐强，高潮 | |
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36
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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37
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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41
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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42
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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43
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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44
articulation
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| n.（清楚的）发音；清晰度，咬合 | |
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45
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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46
spokes
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| n.（车轮的）辐条( spoke的名词复数 )；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 | |
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47
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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48
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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49
shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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50
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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51
allurement
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| n.诱惑物 | |
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52
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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53
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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54
unravelling
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| 解开，拆散，散开( unravel的现在分词 )； 阐明； 澄清； 弄清楚 | |
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55
rite
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| n.典礼，惯例，习俗 | |
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56
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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57
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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58
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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59
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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60
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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61
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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62
chiding
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| v.责骂，责备( chide的现在分词 ) | |
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prodding
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| v.刺，戳( prod的现在分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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miscreant
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| n.恶棍 | |
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knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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awareness
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| n.意识，觉悟，懂事，明智 | |
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doused
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| v.浇水在…上( douse的过去式和过去分词 )；熄灯[火] | |
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vagrant
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| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
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persistency
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| n. 坚持(余辉, 时间常数) | |
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abash
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| v.使窘迫，使局促不安 | |
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81
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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83
sleekness
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| 油滑； 油光发亮； 时髦阔气； 线条明快 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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registrar
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| n.记录员，登记员；(大学的)注册主任 | |
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