'I beg your pardon—wasn't looking where I was going. Why, it's Dyson!'
'Yes, quite so. How are you, Salisbury?'
'Quite well. But where have you been, Dyson? I don't think I can have seen you for the last five years?'
'No; I dare say not. You remember I was getting rather hard up when you came to my place at Charlotte Street?'
'Perfectly2. I think I remember your telling me that you owed five weeks' rent, and that you had parted with your watch for a comparatively small sum.'
'My dear Salisbury, your memory is admirable. Yes, I was hard up. But the curious thing is that soon after you saw me I became harder up. My financial state was described by a friend as "stone broke." I don't approve of slang, mind you, but such was my condition. But suppose we go in; there might be other[248] people who would like to dine—it's a human weakness, Salisbury.'
'Certainly; come along. I was wondering as I walked down whether the corner table were taken. It has a velvet3 back, you know.'
'I know the spot; it's vacant. Yes, as I was saying, I became even harder up.'
'What did you do then?' asked Salisbury, disposing of his hat, and settling down in the corner of the seat, with a glance of fond anticipation4 at the menu.
'What did I do? Why, I sat down and reflected. I had a good classical education, and a positive distaste for business of any kind: that was the capital with which I faced the world. Do you know, I have heard people describe olives as nasty! What lamentable5 Philistinism! I have often thought, Salisbury, that I could write genuine poetry under the influence of olives and red wine. Let us have Chianti; it may not be very good, but the flasks6 are simply charming.'
'Very good. I reflected, then, on my want of prospects8, and I determined9 to embark10 in literature.'
'Really; that was strange. You seem in pretty comfortable circumstances, though.'
'Though! What a satire11 upon a noble profession. I am afraid, Salisbury, you haven't a proper idea of the dignity of an artist. You see me sitting at my desk—or at least you can see me if you care to call—with pen and ink, and simple nothingness before me, and if you come again in a few hours you will (in all probability) find a creation!'[249]
'Yes, quite so. I had an idea that literature was not remunerative12.'
'You are mistaken; its rewards are great. I may mention, by the way, that shortly after you saw me I succeeded to a small income. An uncle died, and proved unexpectedly generous.'
'Ah, I see. That must have been convenient.'
'It was pleasant—undeniably pleasant. I have always considered it in the light of an endowment of my researches. I told you I was a man of letters; it would, perhaps, be more correct to describe myself as a man of science.'
'Dear me, Dyson, you have really changed very much in the last few years. I had a notion, don't you know, that you were a sort of idler about town, the kind of man one might meet on the north side of Piccadilly every day from May to July.'
'Exactly. I was even then forming myself, though all unconsciously. You know my poor father could not afford to send me to the University. I used to grumble13 in my ignorance at not having completed my education. That was the folly14 of youth, Salisbury; my University was Piccadilly. There I began to study the great science which still occupies me.'
'What science do you mean?'
'The science of the great city; the physiology15 of London; literally16 and metaphysically the greatest subject that the mind of man can conceive. What an admirable salmi this is; undoubtedly17 the final end of the pheasant. Yet I feel sometimes positively18 overwhelmed with the thought of the vastness and complexity19 of London. Paris a man may get to understand[250] thoroughly20 with a reasonable amount of study; but London is always a mystery. In Paris you may say: "Here live the actresses, here the Bohemians, and the Ratés"; but it is different in London. You may point out a street, correctly enough, as the abode21 of washerwomen; but, in that second floor, a man may be studying Chaldee roots, and in the garret over the way a forgotten artist is dying by inches.'
'I see you are Dyson, unchanged and unchangeable,' said Salisbury, slowly sipping22 his Chianti. 'I think you are misled by a too fervid23 imagination; the mystery of London exists only in your fancy. It seems to me a dull place enough. We seldom hear of a really artistic24 crime in London, whereas I believe Paris abounds25 in that sort of thing.'
'Give me some more wine. Thanks. You are mistaken, my dear fellow, you are really mistaken. London has nothing to be ashamed of in the way of crime. Where we fail is for want of Homers, not Agamemnons. Carent quia vate sacro, you know.'
'Well, in plain language, we have no good writers in London who make a speciality of that kind of thing. Our common reporter is a dull dog; every story that he has to tell is spoilt in the telling. His idea of horror and of what excites horror is so lamentably27 deficient28. Nothing will content the fellow but blood, vulgar red blood, and when he can get it he lays it on thick, and considers that he has produced a telling article. It's a poor notion. And, by some curious fatality29, it is the most commonplace and brutal30 murders which always attract the most attention and get written up the most.[251] For instance, I dare say that you never heard of the Harlesden case?'
'No; no, I don't remember anything about it.'
'Of course not. And yet the story is a curious one. I will tell it you over our coffee. Harlesden, you know, or I expect you don't know, is quite on the out-quarters of London; something curiously31 different from your fine old crusted suburb like Norwood or Hampstead, different as each of these is from the other. Hampstead, I mean, is where you look for the head of your great China house with his three acres of land and pine-houses, though of late there is the artistic substratum; while Norwood is the home of the prosperous middle-class family who took the house "because it was near the Palace," and sickened of the Palace six months afterwards; but Harlesden is a place of no character. It's too new to have any character as yet. There are the rows of red houses and the rows of white houses and the bright green Venetians, and the blistering32 doorways33, and the little backyards they call gardens, and a few feeble shops, and then, just as you think you're going to grasp the physiognomy of the settlement, it all melts away.'
'How the dickens is that? the houses don't tumble down before one's eyes, I suppose!'
'Well, no, not exactly that. But Harlesden as an entity34 disappears. Your street turns into a quiet lane, and your staring houses into elm trees, and the back-gardens into green meadows. You pass instantly from town to country; there is no transition as in a small country town, no soft gradations of wider lawns and orchards35, with houses gradually becoming less dense36, but a dead stop. I believe the people who live there[252] mostly go into the City. I have seen once or twice a laden37 'bus bound thitherwards. But however that may be, I can't conceive a greater loneliness in a desert at midnight than there is there at midday. It is like a city of the dead; the streets are glaring and desolate38, and as you pass it suddenly strikes you that this too is part of London. Well, a year or two ago there was a doctor living there; he had set up his brass39 plate and his red lamp at the very end of one of those shining streets, and from the back of the house, the fields stretched away to the north. I don't know what his reason was in settling down in such an out-of-the-way place, perhaps Dr. Black, as we will call him, was a far-seeing man and looked ahead. His relations, so it appeared afterwards, had lost sight of him for many years and didn't even know he was a doctor, much less where he lived. However, there he was settled in Harlesden, with some fragments of a practice, and an uncommonly40 pretty wife. People used to see them walking out together in the summer evenings soon after they came to Harlesden, and, so far as could be observed, they seemed a very affectionate couple. These walks went on through the autumn, and then ceased; but, of course, as the days grew dark and the weather cold, the lanes near Harlesden might be expected to lose many of their attractions. All through the winter nobody saw anything of Mrs. Black; the doctor used to reply to his patients' inquiries41 that she was a "little out of sorts, would be better, no doubt, in the spring." But the spring came, and the summer, and no Mrs. Black appeared, and at last people began to rumour42 and talk amongst themselves, and all sorts of queer things were said at "high teas," which you may possibly[253] have heard are the only form of entertainment known in such suburbs. Dr. Black began to surprise some very odd looks cast in his direction, and the practice, such as it was, fell off before his eyes. In short, when the neighbours whispered about the matter, they whispered that Mrs. Black was dead, and that the doctor had made away with her. But this wasn't the case; Mrs. Black was seen alive in June. It was a Sunday afternoon, one of those few exquisite43 days that an English climate offers, and half London had strayed out into the fields, north, south, east, and west to smell the scent44 of the white May, and to see if the wild roses were yet in blossom in the hedges. I had gone out myself early in the morning, and had had a long ramble45, and somehow or other as I was steering46 homeward I found myself in this very Harlesden we have been talking about. To be exact, I had a glass of beer in the "General Gordon," the most flourishing house in the neighbourhood, and as I was wandering rather aimlessly about, I saw an uncommonly tempting47 gap in a hedgerow, and resolved to explore the meadow beyond. Soft grass is very grateful to the feet after the infernal grit48 strewn on suburban49 sidewalks, and after walking about for some time I thought I should like to sit down on a bank and have a smoke. While I was getting out my pouch50, I looked up in the direction of the houses, and as I looked I felt my breath caught back, and my teeth began to chatter51, and the stick I had in one hand snapped in two with the grip I gave it. It was as if I had had an electric current down my spine52, and yet for some moment of time which seemed long, but which must have been very short, I caught myself wondering what on earth was the matter.[254] Then I knew what had made my very heart shudder53 and my bones grind together in an agony. As I glanced up I had looked straight towards the last house in the row before me, and in an upper window of that house I had seen for some short fraction of a second a face. It was the face of a woman, and yet it was not human. You and I, Salisbury, have heard in our time, as we sat in our seats in church in sober English fashion, of a lust54 that cannot be satiated and of a fire that is unquenchable, but few of us have any notion what these words mean. I hope you never may, for as I saw that face at the window, with the blue sky above me and the warm air playing in gusts55 about me, I knew I had looked into another world—looked through the window of a commonplace, brand-new house, and seen hell open before me. When the first shock was over, I thought once or twice that I should have fainted; my face streamed with a cold sweat, and my breath came and went in sobs56, as if I had been half drowned. I managed to get up at last, and walked round to the street, and there I saw the name "Dr. Black" on the post by the front gate. As fate or my luck would have it, the door opened and a man came down the steps as I passed by. I had no doubt it was the doctor himself. He was of a type rather common in London; long and thin, with a pasty face and a dull black moustache. He gave me a look as we passed each other on the pavement, and though it was merely the casual glance which one foot-passenger bestows57 on another, I felt convinced in my mind that here was an ugly customer to deal with. As you may imagine, I went my way a good deal puzzled and[255] horrified58 too by what I had seen; for I had paid another visit to the "General Gordon," and had got together a good deal of the common gossip of the place about the Blacks. I didn't mention the fact that I had seen a woman's face in the window; but I heard that Mrs. Black had been much admired for her beautiful golden hair, and round what had struck me with such a nameless terror, there was a mist of flowing yellow hair, as it were an aureole of glory round the visage of a satyr. The whole thing bothered me in an indescribable manner; and when I got home I tried my best to think of the impression I had received as an illusion, but it was no use. I knew very well I had seen what I have tried to describe to you, and I was morally certain that I had seen Mrs. Black. And then there was the gossip of the place, the suspicion of foul59 play, which I knew to be false, and my own conviction that there was some deadly mischief60 or other going on in that bright red house at the corner of Devon Road: how to construct a theory of a reasonable kind out of these two elements. In short, I found myself in a world of mystery; I puzzled my head over it and filled up my leisure moments by gathering61 together odd threads of speculation62, but I never moved a step towards any real solution, and as the summer days went on the matter seemed to grow misty63 and indistinct, shadowing some vague terror, like a nightmare of last month. I suppose it would before long have faded into the background of my brain—I should not have forgotten it, for such a thing could never be forgotten—but one morning as I was looking over the paper my eye was caught by a heading over some two[256] dozen lines of small type. The words I had seen were simply, "The Harlesden Case," and I knew what I was going to read. Mrs. Black was dead. Black had called in another medical man to certify64 as to cause of death, and something or other had aroused the strange doctor's suspicions and there had been an inquest and post-mortem. And the result? That, I will confess, did astonish me considerably65; it was the triumph of the unexpected. The two doctors who made the autopsy66 were obliged to confess that they could not discover the faintest trace of any kind of foul play; their most exquisite tests and reagents failed to detect the presence of poison in the most infinitesimal quantity. Death, they found, had been caused by a somewhat obscure and scientifically interesting form of brain disease. The tissue of the brain and the molecules67 of the grey matter had undergone a most extraordinary series of changes; and the younger of the two doctors, who has some reputation, I believe, as a specialist in brain trouble, made some remarks in giving his evidence which struck me deeply at the time, though I did not then grasp their full significance. He said: "At the commencement of the examination I was astonished to find appearances of a character entirely68 new to me, notwithstanding my somewhat large experience. I need not specify69 these appearances at present, it will be sufficient for me to state that as I proceeded in my task I could scarcely believe that the brain before me was that of a human being at all." There was some surprise at this statement, as you may imagine, and the coroner asked the doctor if he meant to say that the brain resembled that of an animal. "No," he replied, "I should not put it in that way.[257] Some of the appearances I noticed seemed to point in that direction, but others, and these were the more surprising, indicated a nervous organization of a wholly different character from that either of man or the lower animals." It was a curious thing to say, but of course the jury brought in a verdict of death from natural causes, and, so far as the public was concerned, the case came to an end. But after I had read what the doctor said I made up my mind that I should like to know a good deal more, and I set to work on what seemed likely to prove an interesting investigation70. I had really a good deal of trouble, but I was successful in a measure. Though why—my dear fellow, I had no notion at the time. Are you aware that we have been here nearly four hours? The waiters are staring at us. Let's have the bill and be gone.'
The two men went out in silence, and stood a moment in the cool air, watching the hurrying traffic of Coventry Street pass before them to the accompaniment of the ringing bells of hansoms and the cries of the newsboys; the deep far murmur71 of London surging up ever and again from beneath these louder noises.
'It is a strange case, isn't it?' said Dyson at length. 'What do you think of it?'
'My dear fellow, I haven't heard the end, so I will reserve my opinion. When will you give me the sequel?'
'Come to my rooms some evening; say next Thursday. Here's the address. Good-night; I want to get down to the Strand72.' Dyson hailed a passing hansom, and Salisbury turned northward73 to walk home to his lodgings74.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
vistas
|
|
| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
anticipation
|
|
| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
lamentable
|
|
| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
flasks
|
|
| n.瓶，长颈瓶， 烧瓶( flask的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
flask
|
|
| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
prospects
|
|
| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
embark
|
|
| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
satire
|
|
| n.讽刺，讽刺文学，讽刺作品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
remunerative
|
|
| adj.有报酬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
grumble
|
|
| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
physiology
|
|
| n.生理学，生理机能 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
literally
|
|
| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
undoubtedly
|
|
| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
complexity
|
|
| n.复杂(性)，复杂的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
sipping
|
|
| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
fervid
|
|
| adj.热情的；炽热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
artistic
|
|
| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
abounds
|
|
| v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
quotation
|
|
| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
lamentably
|
|
| adv.哀伤地，拙劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
deficient
|
|
| adj.不足的，不充份的，有缺陷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
fatality
|
|
| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
brutal
|
|
| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
blistering
|
|
| adj.酷热的；猛烈的；使起疱的；可恶的v.起水疱；起气泡；使受暴晒n.[涂料] 起泡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
doorways
|
|
| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
entity
|
|
| n.实体，独立存在体，实际存在物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
orchards
|
|
| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
laden
|
|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
uncommonly
|
|
| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
inquiries
|
|
| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
rumour
|
|
| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
ramble
|
|
| v.漫步，漫谈，漫游；n.漫步，闲谈，蔓延 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
steering
|
|
| n.操舵装置 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
tempting
|
|
| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
grit
|
|
| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
suburban
|
|
| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
pouch
|
|
| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
chatter
|
|
| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
spine
|
|
| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
lust
|
|
| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
gusts
|
|
| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
sobs
|
|
| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
bestows
|
|
| 赠给，授予( bestow的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
horrified
|
|
| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
speculation
|
|
| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
misty
|
|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
certify
|
|
| vt.证明，证实；发证书(或执照)给 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
considerably
|
|
| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
autopsy
|
|
| n.尸体解剖；尸检 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
molecules
|
|
| 分子( molecule的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
specify
|
|
| vt.指定，详细说明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
investigation
|
|
| n.调查，调查研究 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
strand
|
|
| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
northward
|
|
| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
lodgings
|
|
| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |