Fielding found himself drawn7 more and more into Miss Quested’s affairs. The College remained closed and he ate and slept at Hamidullah’s, so there was no reason she should not stop on if she wished. In her place he would have cleared out, sooner than submit to Ronny’s half-hearted and distracted civilities, but she was waiting for the hour-glass of her sojourn8 to run through. A house to live in, a garden to walk in during the brief moment of the cool—that was all she asked, and he was able to provide them. Disaster had shown her her limitations, and he realized now what a fine loyal character she was. Her humility9 was touching10. She never repined at getting the worst of both worlds; she regarded it as the due punishment of her stupidity. When he hinted to her that a personal apology to Aziz might be seemly, she said sadly: “Of course. I ought to have thought of it myself, my instincts never help me. Why didn’t I rush up to him after the trial? Yes, of course I will write him an apology, but please will you dictate11 it?” Between them they concocted12 a letter, sincere, and full of moving phrases, but it was not moving as a letter. “Shall I write another?” she enquired13. “Nothing matters if I can undo14 the harm I have caused. I can do this right, and that right; but when the two are put together they come wrong. That’s the defect of my character. I have never realized it until now. I thought that if I was just and asked questions I would come through every difficulty.” He replied: “Our letter is a failure for a simple reason which we had better face: you have no real affection for Aziz, or Indians generally.” She assented15. “The first time I saw you, you were wanting to see India, not Indians, and it occurred to me: Ah, that won’t take us far. Indians know whether they are liked or not—they cannot be fooled here. Justice never satisfies them, and that is why the British Empire rests on sand.” Then she said: “Do I like anyone, though?” Presumably she liked Heaslop, and he changed the subject, for this side of her life did not concern him.
His Indian friends were, on the other hand, a bit above themselves. Victory, which would have made the English sanctimonious16, made them aggressive. They wanted to develop an offensive, and tried to do so by discovering new grievances17 and wrongs, many of which had no existence. They suffered from the usual disillusion18 that attends warfare19. The aims of battle and the fruits of conquest are never the same; the latter have their value and only the saint rejects them, but their hint of immortality20 vanishes as soon as they are held in the hand. Although Sir Gilbert had been courteous21, almost obsequious22, the fabric23 he represented had in no wise bowed its head. British officialism remained, as all-pervading and as unpleasant as the sun; and what was next to be done against it was not very obvious, even to Mahmoud Ali. Loud talk and trivial lawlessness were attempted, and behind them continued a genuine but vague desire for education. “Mr. Fielding, we must all be educated promptly24.”
Aziz was friendly and domineering. He wanted Fielding to “give in to the East,” as he called it, and live in a condition of affectionate dependence25 upon it. “You can trust me, Cyril.” No question of that, and Fielding had no roots among his own people. Yet he really couldn’t become a sort of Mohammed Latif. When they argued about it something racial intruded—not bitterly, but inevitably26, like the colour of their skins: coffee-colour versus27 pinko-grey. And Aziz would conclude: “Can’t you see that I’m grateful to you for your help and want to reward you?” And the other would retort: “If you want to reward me, let Miss Quested off paying.”
The insensitiveness about Adela displeased28 him. It would, from every point of view, be right to treat her generously, and one day he had the notion of appealing to the memory of Mrs. Moore. Aziz had this high and fantastic estimate of Mrs. Moore. Her death had been a real grief to his warm heart; he wept like a child and ordered his three children to weep also. There was no doubt that he respected and loved her. Fielding’s first attempt was a failure. The reply was: “I see your trick. I want revenge on them. Why should I be insulted and suffer and the contents of my pockets read and my wife’s photograph taken to the police station? Also I want the money—to educate my little boys, as I explained to her.” But he began to weaken, and Fielding was not ashamed to practise a little necromancy29. Whenever the question of compensation came up, he introduced the dead woman’s name. Just as other propagandists invented her a tomb, so did he raise a questionable30 image of her in the heart of Aziz, saying nothing that he believed to be untrue, but producing something that was probably far from the truth. Aziz yielded suddenly. He felt it was Mrs. Moore’s wish that he should spare the woman who was about to marry her son, that it was the only honour he could pay her, and he renounced31 with a passionate32 and beautiful outburst the whole of the compensation money, claiming only costs. It was fine of him, and, as he foresaw, it won him no credit with the English. They still believed he was guilty, they believed it to the end of their careers, and retired33 Anglo-Indians in Tunbridge Wells or Cheltenham still murmur34 to each other: “That Marabar case which broke down because the poor girl couldn’t face giving her evidence—that was another bad case.”
When the affair was thus officially ended, Ronny, who was about to be transferred to another part of the Province, approached Fielding with his usual constraint35 and said: “I wish to thank you for the help you have given Miss Quested. She will not of course trespass36 on your hospitality further; she has as a matter of fact decided37 to return to England. I have just arranged about her passage for her. I understand she would like to see you.”
“I shall go round at once.”
On reaching the College, he found her in some upset. He learnt that the engagement had been broken by Ronny. “Far wiser of him,” she said pathetically. “I ought to have spoken myself, but I drifted on wondering what would happen. I would willingly have gone on spoiling his life through inertia—one has nothing to do, one belongs nowhere and becomes a public nuisance without realizing it.” In order to reassure39 him, she added: “I speak only of India. I am not astray in England. I fit in there—no, don’t think I shall do harm in England. When I am forced back there, I shall settle down to some career. I have sufficient money left to start myself, and heaps of friends of my own type. I shall be quite all right.” Then sighing: “But oh, the trouble I’ve brought on everyone here. . . . I can never get over it. My carefulness as to whether we should marry or not . . . and in the end Ronny and I part and aren’t even sorry. We ought never to have thought of marriage. Weren’t you amazed when our engagement was originally announced?”
“Not much. At my age one’s seldom amazed,” he said, smiling. “Marriage is too absurd in any case. It begins and continues for such very slight reasons. The social business props40 it up on one side, and the theological business on the other, but neither of them are marriage, are they? I’ve friends who can’t remember why they married, no more can their wives. I suspect that it mostly happens haphazard41, though afterwards various noble reasons are invented. About marriage I am cynical42.”
“I am not. This false start has been all my own fault. I was bringing to Ronny nothing that ought to be brought, that was why he rejected me really. I entered that cave thinking: Am I fond of him? I have not yet told you that, Mr. Fielding. I didn’t feel justified43. Tenderness, respect, personal intercourse—I tried to make them take the place—of——”
“I no longer want love,” he said, supplying the word.
“No more do I. My experiences here have cured me. But I want others to want it.”
“But to go back to our first talk (for I suppose this is our last one)—when you entered that cave, who did follow you, or did no one follow you? Can you now say? I don’t like it left in air.”
“Let us call it the guide,” she said indifferently. “It will never be known. It’s as if I ran my finger along that polished wall in the dark, and cannot get further. I am up against something, and so are you. Mrs. Moore—she did know.”
“How could she have known what we don’t?”
“Telepathy, possibly.”
The pert, meagre word fell to the ground. Telepathy? What an explanation! Better withdraw it, and Adela did so. She was at the end of her spiritual tether, and so was he. Were there worlds beyond which they could never touch, or did all that is possible enter their consciousness? They could not tell. They only realized that their outlook was more or less similar, and found in this a satisfaction. Perhaps life is a mystery, not a muddle44; they could not tell. Perhaps the hundred Indias which fuss and squabble so tiresomely45 are one, and the universe they mirror is one. They had not the apparatus46 for judging.
“Write to me when you get to England.”
“I shall, often. You have been excessively kind. Now that I’m going, I realize it. I wish I could do something for you in return, but I see you’ve all you want.”
“I think so,” he replied after a pause. “I have never felt more happy and secure out here. I really do get on with Indians, and they do trust me. It’s pleasant that I haven’t had to resign my job. It’s pleasant to be praised by an L.-G. Until the next earthquake I remain as I am.”
“Of course this death has been troubling me.”
“Aziz was so fond of her too.”
“But it has made me remember that we must all die: all these personal relations we try to live by are temporary. I used to feel death selected people, it is a notion one gets from novels, because some of the characters are usually left talking at the end. Now ‘death spares no one’ begins to be real.”
“Don’t let it become too real, or you’ll die yourself. That is the objection to meditating47 upon death. We are subdued48 to what we work in. I have felt the same temptation, and had to sheer off. I want to go on living a bit.”
“So do I.”
A friendliness49, as of dwarfs50 shaking hands, was in the air. Both man and woman were at the height of their powers—sensible, honest, even subtle. They spoke38 the same language, and held the same opinions, and the variety of age and sex did not divide them. Yet they were dissatisfied. When they agreed, “I want to go on living a bit,” or, “I don’t believe in God,” the words were followed by a curious backwash as though the universe had displaced itself to fill up a tiny void, or as though they had seen their own gestures from an immense height—dwarfs talking, shaking hands and assuring each other that they stood on the same footing of insight. They did not think they were wrong, because as soon as honest people think they are wrong instability sets up. Not for them was an infinite goal behind the stars, and they never sought it. But wistfulness descended51 on them now, as on other occasions; the shadow of the shadow of a dream fell over their clear-cut interests, and objects never seen again seemed messages from another world.
“And I do like you so very much, if I may say so,” he affirmed.
“I’m glad, for I like you. Let’s meet again.”
“We will, in England, if I ever take home leave.”
“But I suppose you’re not likely to do that yet.”
“Quite a chance. I have a scheme on now as a matter of fact.”
“Oh, that would be very nice.”
So it petered out. Ten days later Adela went off, by the same route as her dead friend. The final beat up before the monsoon52 had come. The country was stricken and blurred53. Its houses, trees and fields were all modelled out of the same brown paste, and the sea at Bombay slid about like broth54 against the quays55. Her last Indian adventure was with Antony, who followed her on to the boat and tried to blackmail56 her. She had been Mr. Fielding’s mistress, Antony said. Perhaps Antony was discontented with his tip. She rang the cabin bell and had him turned out, but his statement created rather a scandal, and people did not speak to her much during the first part of the voyage. Through the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea she was left to herself, and to the dregs of Chandrapore.
With Egypt the atmosphere altered. The clean sands, heaped on each side of the canal, seemed to wipe off everything that was difficult and equivocal, and even Port Said looked pure and charming in the light of a rose-grey morning. She went on shore there with an American missionary57, they walked out to the Lesseps statue, they drank the tonic58 air of the Levant. “To what duties, Miss Quested, are you returning in your own country after your taste of the tropics?” the missionary asked.
“Observe, I don’t say to what do you turn, but to what do you re-turn. Every life ought to contain both a turn and a re-turn. This celebrated59 pioneer (he pointed60 to the statue) will make my question clear. He turns to the East, he re-turns to the West. You can see it from the cute position of his hands, one of which holds a string of sausages.” The missionary looked at her humorously, in order to cover the emptiness of his mind. He had no idea what he meant by “turn” and “return,” but he often used words in pairs, for the sake of moral brightness. “I see,” she replied. Suddenly, in the Mediterranean61 clarity, she had seen. Her first duty on returning to England was to look up those other children of Mrs. Moore’s, Ralph and Stella, then she would turn to her profession. Mrs. Moore had tended to keep the products of her two marriages apart, and Adela had not come across the younger branch so far.
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1
decomposition
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| n. 分解, 腐烂, 崩溃 | |
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exempted
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| 使免除[豁免]( exempt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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urbanely
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| adv.都市化地，彬彬有礼地，温文尔雅地 | |
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deplore
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| vt.哀叹，对...深感遗憾 | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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concocted
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| v.将（尤指通常不相配合的）成分混合成某物( concoct的过去式和过去分词 )；调制；编造；捏造 | |
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enquired
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| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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14
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sanctimonious
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| adj.假装神圣的，假装虔诚的，假装诚实的 | |
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grievances
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| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
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disillusion
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| vt.使不再抱幻想，使理想破灭 | |
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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dependence
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| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
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inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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versus
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| prep.以…为对手，对；与…相比之下 | |
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displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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necromancy
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| n.巫术；通灵术 | |
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questionable
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| adj.可疑的，有问题的 | |
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renounced
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| v.声明放弃( renounce的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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trespass
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| n./v.侵犯，闯入私人领地 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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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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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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props
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| 小道具； 支柱( prop的名词复数 )； 支持者； 道具； （橄榄球中的）支柱前锋 | |
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haphazard
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| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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muddle
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| n.困惑，混浊状态；vt.使混乱，使糊涂，使惊呆；vi.胡乱应付，混乱 | |
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tiresomely
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| adj. 令人厌倦的，讨厌的 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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dwarfs
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| n.侏儒，矮子（dwarf的复数形式）vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的第三人称单数形式） | |
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51
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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52
monsoon
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| n.季雨，季风，大雨 | |
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53
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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broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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quays
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| 码头( quay的名词复数 ) | |
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blackmail
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| n.讹诈，敲诈，勒索，胁迫，恫吓 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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Mediterranean
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| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
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