What woke her was a faint fluttering under the point of her sternum: a feeling that she had not had since she was a child. It was associated with prize-giving days at school. Lucy had always had a prize of sorts. Never anything spectacular, alas8 — 2nd French, 3rd Drawing, 3rd Singing — but she was definitely in the money. Occasionally, too, there was a “piece” to be played — the Rachmaninoff Prelude9, for one; not the DA, DA, DA one but the DA-de-de-de; with terrific concentration on the de-de-de — and consequently a new frock. Hence the tremor10 under the breastbone. And today, all those years afterwards, she had recaptured the sensation. For years any flutterings in that region had been mere11 indigestion — if indigestion can ever be mere. Now, because she was part of all the young emotion round her, she shared the thrill and the anticipation12.
She sat up and looked at the weather. It was blank and grey, with a cool mist that might later lift on a blazing day. She got up and went to the window. The silence was absolute. Nothing stirred in the still greyness but the College cat, picking its way in an annoyed fashion over the dew-wet stones, and shaking each foot in turn as protest against the discomfort13. The grass was heavy with dew, and Lucy, who had always had a perverted14 affection for wet grass, regarded it with satisfaction.
The silence was ripped in two by the bell. The cat, as if suddenly reminded of urgent business, sprang into wild flight. Giddy crunched15 past on his way to the gymnasium; and presently the faint whine16 of his vacuum-cleaner could be heard, like some far-distant siren. Groans17 and yawns and inquiries18 as to the weather came from the little rooms all round the courtyard, but no one came to a window to look; getting up was an agony to be postponed19 to the last moment.
Lucy decided20 to dress and go out into the dew-grey morning, so cool and damp and beneficent. She would go and see how the buttercups looked without the sun on them. Wet gamboge, probably. She washed sketchily21, dressed in the warmest things she had with her, and slinging22 a coat over her shoulders went out into the silent corridor and down the deserted23 stairs. She paused by the quadrangle door to read the notices on the students’ board; cryptic24, esoteric, and plain. “Students are reminded that parents and visitors may be shown over the bedroom wings and the clinic, but not the front of the house.” “Juniors are reminded that it is their duty to wait on the guests at tea and so help the domestic staff.” And, by itself, in capitals, the simple statement:
DIPLOMAS WILL BE PRESENTED ON
TUESDAY MORNING AT 9 O’CLOCK
As she moved on towards the covered way, Lucy visualised the diploma as an imposing25 roll of parchment tied up with ribbon, and then remembered that even in the matter of diplomas this place was a law unto itself. Their diploma was a badge to stick in their coat; a little enamel-and-silver affair that, pinned to the left breast of their working garment, would tell all and sundry26 where they had spent their student years and to what end.
Lucy came out into the covered way and dawdled27 along it to the gymnasium. Giddy had long since finished his cleaning operations — she had seen him from her window before she left her room contemplating28 his roses at the far side of the lawn — and it was apparent that Rouse had already performed her morning routine — the faint damp marks of her gym. shoes were visible on the concrete path — so the gymnasium was deserted. Lucy paused as she was about to turn along the path by its side wall, and stepped in at the wide-open door. Just as a race-course is more dramatic before the crowds blur29 it or an arena30 before its traffic writes scribbles32 over it, so the great waiting hall had a fascination33 for her. The emptiness, the quiet, the green subaqueous light, gave it a dignity and a mysteriousness that did not belong to its daytime personality. The single boom that Rouse used swam in the shadows, and the liquid light of the mirrors under the gallery wavered at the far end in vague repetition.
Lucy longed to shout a command so as to hear her voice in this empty space; or to climb a rib-stall and see if she could do it without having heart-failure; but she contented34 herself with gazing. At her age gazing was enough; and it was a thing that she was good at.
Something winked35 on the floor half way between her and the boom; something tiny and bright. A nail-head or something, she thought; and then remembered that there were no nail-heads in a gymnasium floor. She moved forward, idly curious, and picked the thing up. It was a small filigree36 rosette, flat, and made of silvery metal; and as she put it absently into her jersey37 pocket and turned away to continue her walk, she smiled. If the quiver under her sternum this morning had reminded her of school days, that small metal circle brought back even more clearly the parties of her childhood. Almost before her conscious mind had recognised it for what it was she was back in the atmosphere of crackers-and-jellies and white silk frocks, and was wearing on her feet a pair of bronze leather pumps with elastic38 that criss-crossed over the ankle and a tiny silver filigree rosette on each toe. Going down the path to the field gate, she took it out again and smiled over it, remembering. She had quite forgotten those bronze pumps; there were black ones too, but all the best people wore bronze ones. She wondered who in College possessed39 a pair. College wore ballet shoes for dancing, with or without blocked toes; and their gymnasium shoes were welted leather with an elastic instep. She had never seen anyone wear those pumps with the little ornament40 at the toe.
Perhaps Rouse used them for running down to the gymnasium in the mornings. It was certainly this morning the ornament had been dropped, since The Abhorrence41 under Giddy’s direction was guaranteed to abstract from the gymnasium everything that was not nailed down.
She hung over the gate for a little but it was chilly42 there and disappointing; the trees were invisible in the mist, the buttercups a mere rust43 on the grey meadow, and the may hedges looked like dirty snow. She did not want to go back to the house before breakfast, so she walked along to the tennis courts where the Juniors were mending nets — this was odd-job day for everyone, they said, this being the one day in the year when they conserved44 their energies against a greater demand to come — and with them she stayed, talking and lending a hand, until they went up to College for breakfast. When they marvelled45 at her early rising little Miss Morris had suggested that she was tired of cold toast in her room, but when she said frankly46 that she could not sleep for excitement they were gratified by so proper an emotion in an alien breast, and promised that the reality would beggar expectation. She had not seen anything yet, it seemed.
She changed her wet shoes, suffered the friendly gibes47 of the assembled Staff at her access of energy, and went down with them to breakfast.
It was when she turned to see how Innes was looking this morning that she became aware of a gap in the pattern of bright heads. She did not know the pattern well enough to know who was missing, but there was certainly an empty place at one of the tables. She wondered if Henrietta knew. Henrietta had cast the usual critical eye over the assembly as she sat down, but as the assembly was also at that moment in the act of sitting down the pattern was blurred48 and any gap not immediately visible.
Hastily, in case Henrietta did not in fact know about that gap, she withdrew her gaze without further investigation49. It was none of her wish to call down retribution on the head of any student, however delinquent50. Perhaps, of course, someone had just “gone sick”; which would account for the lack of remark where their absence was concerned.
Miss Hodge, having wolfed her fish-cake, laid down her fork and swept the students with her small elephant eye. “Miss Wragg,” she said, “ask Miss Nash to speak to me.”
Nash got up from her place at the head of the nearest table and presented herself.
“Is it Miss Rouse who is missing from Miss Stewart’s table?”
“Yes, Miss Hodge.”
“Why has she not come to breakfast?”
“I don’t know, Miss Hodge.”
“Send one of the Juniors to her room to ask why she is not here.”
“Yes, Miss Hodge.”
A stolid51 amiable52 Junior called Tuttle, who was always having to take the can back, was sent on the mission, and came back to say that Rouse was not in her room; which report Beau bore to the head table.
“Where was Miss Rouse when you saw her last?”
“I can’t remember actually seeing her at all, Miss Hodge. We were all over the place this morning doing different things. It wasn’t like sitting in class or being in the gym.”
“Does anyone,” said Henrietta addressing the students as a whole, “know where Miss Rouse is?”
But no one did, apparently53.
“Has anyone seen her this morning?”
But no one, now they came to think of it, had seen her.
Henrietta, who had put away two slices of toast while Tuttle was upstairs, said: “Very well, Miss Nash,” and Beau went back to her breakfast. Henrietta rolled up her napkin and caught Fr?ken7’s eye, but Fr?ken was already rising from table, her face anxious.
“You and I will go to the gymnasium, Fr?ken,” Henrietta said, and they went out together, the rest of the Staff trailing after them but not following them out to the gymnasium. It was only on the way upstairs to make her bed that it occurred to Lucy to think: “I could have told them that she wasn’t in the gymnasium. How silly of me not to think of it.” She tidied her room — a task that the students were expected to perform for themselves and which she thought it only fair that she likewise should do for herself — wondering all the time where Rouse could have disappeared to. And why. Could she suddenly have failed again this morning to do that simple boom exercise and been overtaken by a crise des nerfs? That was the only explanation that would fit the odd fact of any College student missing a meal; especially breakfast.
She crossed into the “old house” and went down the front stairs and out into the garden. From the office came Henrietta’s voice talking rapidly to someone on the telephone, so she did not interrupt her. There was still more than half an hour before Prayers; she would spend it reading her mail in the garden, where the mist was rapidly lifting and a shimmer54 had come into the atmosphere that had been so dead a grey. She went to her favourite seat at the far edge of the garden overlooking the countryside, and it was not until nine o’clock that she came back. There was no doubt about the weather now: it was going to be a lovely day; Henrietta’s “tragedy” was not going to happen.
As she came round the corner of the house an ambulance drove away from the front door down the avenue. She looked at it, puzzled; but decided that in a place like this an ambulance was not the thing of dread55 that it was to the ordinary civilian56. Something to do with the clinic, probably.
In the drawing-room, instead of the full Staff muster57 demanded by two minutes to nine o’clock, there was only Miss Lux.
“Has Rouse turned up?” Lucy asked.
“Yes.”
“Where was she?”
“In the gymnasium, with a fractured skull58.”
Even in that moment of shock Lucy thought how typical of Lux that succinct59 sentence was. “But how? What happened?”
“The pin that holds up the boom wasn’t properly in. When she jumped up to it it came down on her head.”
“Good heavens!” Lucy could feel that inert60 log crash down on her own skull; she had always hated the boom.
“Fr?ken has just gone away with her in the ambulance to West Larborough.”
“That was smart work.”
“Yes. West Larborough is not far, and luckily at this hour of the morning the ambulance hadn’t gone out, and once it was on the way here there was no traffic to hold it up.”
“What dreadful luck for everyone. On Demonstration Day.”
“Yes. We tried to keep it from the students but that was hopeless, of course. So all we can do is to minimise it.”
“How bad is it, do you think?”
“No one knows. Miss Hodge has wired to her people.”
“Weren’t they coming to the Dem.?”
“Apparently not. She has no parents; just an aunt and uncle who brought her up. Come to think of it,” she added after a moment’s silence, “that is what she looked like: a stray.” She did not seem to notice that she had used the past tense.
“I suppose it was Rouse’s own fault?” Lucy asked.
“Or the student who helped her put up the thing last night.”
“Who was that?”
“O’Donnell, it seems. Miss Hodge has sent for her to ask her about it.”
At that moment Henrietta herself came in, and all the vague resentments61 that Lucy had been nursing against her friend in the last few days melted at sight of Henrietta’s face. She looked ten years older, and in some odd fashion at least a stone less heavy.
“They have a telephone, it seems,” she said, continuing the subject that was the only one in her mind, “so I shall be able to talk to them perhaps before the telegram reaches them. They are getting the trunk call for me now. They should be here before night. I want to be available for the telephone call, so will you take Prayers, Miss Lux. Fr?ken will not be back in time.” Fr?ken was, as Senior Gymnast, second in rank to Miss Hodge. “Miss Wragg may not be at Prayers; she is getting the gymnasium put to rights. But Madame will be there, and Lucy will back you up.”
“But of course,” said Lucy. “I wish there was something more that I could do.”
There was a tap at the door, and O’Donnell appeared.
“Miss Hodge? You wanted to see me?”
“Oh, in my office, Miss O’Donnell.”
“You weren’t there, so I—”
“Not that it matters, now that you are here. Tell me: when you put up the boom with Miss Rouse last night — It was you who helped her?”
“Yes, Miss Hodge.”
“When you put up the boom with her, which end did you take?”
There was a tense moment of silence. It was obvious that O’Donnell did not know which end of the boom had given way and that what she said in the next few seconds would either damn her or save her. But when she spoke62 it was with a sort of despairing resolution that stamped what she said with truth.
“The wall end, Miss Hodge.”
“You put the pin into the upright that is fixed63 to the wall?”
“Yes.”
“And Miss Rouse took care of the upright in the middle of the floor.”
“Yes, Miss Hodge.”
“You have no doubt as to which end you attended to?”
“No, none at all.”
“Why are you so certain?”
“Because I always did do the end by the wall.”
“Why was that?”
“Rouse is taller than I am and could shove the boom higher than I could. So I always took the end by the wall so that I could put a foot in the rib-stalls when I was putting the pin in.”
“I see. Very well. Thank you, Miss O’Donnell, for being so frank.”
O’Donnell turned to go, and then turned back.
“Which end came down, Miss Hodge?”
“The middle end,” Miss Hodge said, looking with something like affection on the girl, though she had been on the point of letting her go without putting her out of suspense64.
A great wave of colour rushed into O’Donnell’s normally pale face. “Oh, thank you!” she said, in a whisper, and almost ran out of the room.
“Poor wretch,” said Lux. “That was a horrible moment for her.”
“It is most unlike Miss Rouse to be careless about apparatus65,” Henrietta said thoughtfully.
“You are not suggesting that O’Donnell is not telling the truth?”
“No, no. What she said was obviously true. It was the natural thing for her to take the wall end where she would have the help of the rib-stalls. But I still cannot see how it happened. Apart from Miss Rouse’s natural carefulness, a pin would have to be very badly put in indeed for it to be so far not in that it let the boom come down. And the hoisting66 rope so slack that it let the boom fall nearly three feet!”
“I suppose Giddy couldn’t have done something to it accidentally?”
“I don’t know what he could have done to it. You can’t alter a pin put in at that height without stretching up deliberately67 to it. It is not as if it were something he might possibly touch with his apparatus. And much as he prides himself on the strength of The Abhorrence there is no suction that will pull a pin out from under a boom.”
“No.” Lux thought a little. “Vibration is the only kind of force that would alter a pin’s position. Some kind of tremor. And there was nothing like that.”
“Not inside the gymnasium, certainly. Miss Rouse locked it as usual last night and gave the key to Giddy, and he unlocked it just after first bell this morning.”
“Then there is no alternative to the theory that for once Rouse was too casual. She was the last to leave the place and the first to come back to it — you wouldn’t get anyone there at that hour of the morning who wasn’t under the direst compulsion — so the blame is Rouse’s. And let us be thankful for it. It is bad enough as it is, but it would be far worse if someone else had been careless and had to bear the knowledge that she was responsible for —”
The bell rang for Prayers, and downstairs the telephone shrilled68 in its own hysterical69 manner.
“Have you marked the place in the Prayer book?” Lux asked.
“Where the blue ribbon is,” Miss Hodge said, and hurried out to the telephone.
“Has Fr?ken not come back?” asked Madame, appearing in the doorway70. “Ah, well, let us proceed. Life must go on, if I may coin a phrase. And let us hope that this morning’s ration6 of uplift is not too apposite. Holy Writ31 has a horrible habit of being apposite.”
Not for the first time, Lucy wished Madame Lefevre on a lonely island off Australia.
It was a silent and subdued71 gathering72 that awaited them, and Prayers proceeded in an atmosphere of despondency that was foreign and unprecedented73. But with the hymn74 they recovered a little. It was Blake’s and had a fine martial75 swing, and they sang it with a will. So did Lucy.
“Nor shall the sword sleep in my hand,” she sang, making the most of it. And stopped suddenly, hit in the wind.
Hit in the wind by a jolt76 that left her speechless.
She had just remembered something. She had just remembered why she had been so sure that Rouse would not be found in the gymnasium. Rouse’s damp footprints had been visible on the concrete path, and so she had taken it for granted that Rouse had already been and gone. But Rouse had not been. Rouse had come later, and had sprung to the insecure boom and had lain there until after breakfast when she was searched for.
Then — whose footprints were they?
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收听单词发音
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1
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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ration
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| n.定量(pl.)给养，口粮；vt.定量供应 | |
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ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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8
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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9
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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14
perverted
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| adj.不正当的v.滥用( pervert的过去式和过去分词 )；腐蚀；败坏；使堕落 | |
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15
crunched
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的过去式和过去分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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19
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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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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sketchily
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| adv.写生风格地，大略地 | |
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slinging
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| 抛( sling的现在分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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cryptic
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| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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27
dawdled
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| v.混（时间）( dawdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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29
blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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arena
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| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
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writ
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| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
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scribbles
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| n.潦草的书写( scribble的名词复数 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下v.潦草的书写( scribble的第三人称单数 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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35
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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filigree
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| n.金银丝做的工艺品；v.用金银细丝饰品装饰；用华而不实的饰品装饰；adj.金银细丝工艺的 | |
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jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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41
abhorrence
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| n.憎恶；可憎恶的事 | |
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42
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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43
rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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44
conserved
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| v.保护，保藏，保存( conserve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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47
gibes
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| vi.嘲笑，嘲弄（gibe的第三人称单数形式） | |
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48
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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49
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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50
delinquent
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| adj.犯法的，有过失的；n.违法者 | |
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51
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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52
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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54
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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58
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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59
succinct
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| adj.简明的，简洁的 | |
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inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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resentments
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| （因受虐待而）愤恨，不满，怨恨( resentment的名词复数 ) | |
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62
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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63
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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64
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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66
hoisting
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| 起重，提升 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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68
shrilled
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| （声音）尖锐的，刺耳的，高频率的( shrill的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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71
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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72
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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73
unprecedented
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| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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