She saw again in her mind this cuirassier, which he had shown to her one day, with pride, in his bedroom, near the mirror, under family portraits. All this, at a distance, seemed to her petty and tiresome8. She finished her letter with words of friendship, the sweetness of which was not feigned9. Truly, she had never felt more peaceful and gentle toward her lover. In four pages she had said little and explained less. She announced only that she should stay a month in Florence, the air of which did her good. Then she wrote to her father, to her husband, and to Princess Seniavine. She went down the stairway with the letters in her hand. In the hall she threw three of them on the silver tray destined10 to receive papers for the post-office. Mistrusting Madame Marmet, she slipped into her pocket the letter to Le Menil, counting on chance to throw it into a post-box.
Almost at the same time Dechartre came to accompany the three friends in a walk through the city. As he was waiting he saw the letters on the tray.
Without believing that characters could be divined through penmanship, he was susceptible11 to the form of letters as to elegance12 of drawing. The writing of Therese charmed him, and he liked its openness, the bold and simple turn of its lines. He looked at the addresses without reading them, with an artist’s admiration13.
They visited, that morning, Santa Maria Novella, where the Countess Martin had already gone with Madame Marmet. But Miss Bell had reproached them for not observing the beautiful Ginevra of Benci on a fresco14 of the choir15. “You must visit that figure of the morning in a morning light,” said Vivian. While the poetess and Therese were talking together, Dechartre listened patiently to Madame Marmet’s conversation, filled with anecdotes16, wherein academicians dined with elegant women, and shared the anxiety of that lady, much preoccupied17 for several days by the necessity to buy a tulle veil. She could find none to her taste in the shops of Florence.
As they came out of the church they passed the cobbler’s shop. The good man was mending rustic19 shoes. Madame Martin asked the old man whether he was well, whether he had enough work for a living, whether he was happy. To all these questions he replied with the charming affirmative of Italy, the musical si, which sounded melodious20 even in his toothless mouth. She made him tell his sparrow’s story. The poor bird had once dipped its leg in burning wax.
“I have made for my little companion a wooden leg out of a match, and he hops18 upon my shoulder as formerly,” said the cobbler.
“It is this good old man,” said Miss Bell, “who teaches wisdom to Monsieur Choulette. There was at Athens a cobbler named Simon, who wrote books on philosophy, and who was the friend of Socrates. I have always thought that Monsieur Choulette resembled Socrates.”
Therese asked the cobbler to tell his name and his history. His name was Serafino Stoppini, and he was a native of Stia. He was old. He had had much trouble in his life.
He lifted his spectacles to his forehead, uncovering blue eyes, very soft, and almost extinguished under their red lids.
“I have had a wife and children; I have none now. I have known things which I know no more.”
Miss Bell and Madame Marmet went to look for a veil.
“He has nothing in the world,” thought Therese, “but his tools, a handful of nails, the tub wherein he dips his leather, and a pot of basilick, yet he is happy.”
She said to him:
“This plant is fragrant21, and it will soon be in bloom.”
He replied:
“If the poor little plant comes into bloom it will die.”
Therese, when she left him, placed a coin on the table.
Dechartre was near her. Gravely, almost severely22, he said to her:
“You know . . . ”
She looked at him and waited.
He finished his phrase:
“ . . . that I love you?”
She continued to fix on him, silently, the gaze of her clear eyes, the lids of which were trembling. Then she made a motion with her head that meant Yes. And, without his trying to stop her, she rejoined Miss Bell and Madame Marmet, who were waiting for her at the corner.
点击收听单词发音
1 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
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2 stationery | |
n.文具;(配套的)信笺信封 | |
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3 iris | |
n.虹膜,彩虹 | |
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4 azure | |
adj.天蓝色的,蔚蓝色的 | |
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5 delicacy | |
n.精致,细微,微妙,精良;美味,佳肴 | |
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6 tinted | |
adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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7 appreciation | |
n.评价;欣赏;感谢;领会,理解;价格上涨 | |
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8 tiresome | |
adj.令人疲劳的,令人厌倦的 | |
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9 feigned | |
a.假装的,不真诚的 | |
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10 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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11 susceptible | |
adj.过敏的,敏感的;易动感情的,易受感动的 | |
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12 elegance | |
n.优雅;优美,雅致;精致,巧妙 | |
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13 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
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14 fresco | |
n.壁画;vt.作壁画于 | |
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15 choir | |
n.唱诗班,唱诗班的席位,合唱团,舞蹈团;v.合唱 | |
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16 anecdotes | |
n.掌故,趣闻,轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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17 preoccupied | |
adj.全神贯注的,入神的;被抢先占有的;心事重重的v.占据(某人)思想,使对…全神贯注,使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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18 hops | |
跳上[下]( hop的第三人称单数 ); 单足蹦跳; 齐足(或双足)跳行; 摘葎草花 | |
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19 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
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20 melodious | |
adj.旋律美妙的,调子优美的,音乐性的 | |
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21 fragrant | |
adj.芬香的,馥郁的,愉快的 | |
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22 severely | |
adv.严格地;严厉地;非常恶劣地 | |
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