In such a mood as this one may descend6 from the Passy omnibus at the corner of the Pont de la Concorde (she had not let him fetch her in a cab) with a sense of dedication7 almost solemn, and may advance to meet one’s fate, in the shape of a gentleman of melancholy8 elegance9, with an auto-taxi at his call, as one has advanced to the altar-steps in some girlish bridal vision.
Even the experienced waiter ushering10 them into an upper room of the quiet restaurant on the Seine could hardly have supposed their quest for seclusion11 to be based on sentimental12 motives13, so soberly did Deering give his orders, while his companion sat small and grave at his side. She did not, indeed, mean to let her private pang14 obscure their hour together: she was already learning that Deering shrank from sadness. He should see that she had courage and gaiety to face their coming separation, and yet give herself meanwhile to this completer nearness; but she waited, as always, for him to strike the opening note.
Looking back at it later, she wondered at the mild suavity15 of the hour. Her heart was unversed in happiness, but he had found the tone to lull16 her apprehensions17, and make her trust her fate for any golden wonder. Deepest of all, he gave her the sense of something tacit and confirmed between them, as if his tenderness were a habit of the heart hardly needing the support of outward proof.
Such proof as he offered came, therefore, as a kind of crowning luxury, the flower of a profoundly rooted sentiment; and here again the instinctive18 reserves and defenses would have seemed to vulgarize what his trust ennobled. But if all the tender casuistries of her heart were at his service, he took no grave advantage of them. Even when they sat alone after dinner, with the lights of the river trembling through their one low window, and the vast rumor20 of Paris inclosing them in a heart of silence, he seemed, as much as herself, under the spell of hallowing influences. She felt it most of all as she yielded to the arm he presently put about her, to the long caress21 he laid on her lips and eyes: not a word or gesture missed the note of quiet union, or cast a doubt, in retrospect22, on the pact23 they sealed with their last look.
That pact, as she reviewed it through a sleepless24 night, seemed to have consisted mainly, on his part, in pleadings for full and frequent news of her, on hers in the assurance that it should be given as often as he asked it. She had felt an intense desire not to betray any undue25 eagerness, any crude desire to affirm and define her hold on him. Her life had given her a certain acquaintance with the arts of defense19: girls in her situation were commonly supposed to know them all, and to use them as occasion called. But Lizzie’s very need of them had intensified26 her disdain27. Just because she was so poor, and had always, materially, so to count her change and calculate her margin28, she would at least know the joy of emotional prodigality29, would give her heart as recklessly as the rich their millions. She was sure now that Deering loved her, and if he had seized the occasion of their farewell to give her some definitely worded sign of his feeling — if, more plainly, he had asked her to marry him, — his doing so would have seemed less like a proof of his sincerity30 than of his suspecting in her the need of a verbal warrant. That he had abstained31 seemed to show that he trusted her as she trusted him, and that they were one most of all in this deep security of understanding.
She had tried to make him divine all this in the chariness of her promise to write. She would write; of course she would. But he would be busy, preoccupied32, on the move: it was for him to let her know when he wished a word, to spare her the embarrassment33 of ill-timed intrusions.
“Intrusions?” He had smiled the word away. “You can’t well intrude34, my darling, on a heart where you’re already established, to the complete exclusion35 of other lodgers36.” And then, taking her hands, and looking up from them into her happy, dizzy eyes: “You don’t know much about being in love, do you, Lizzie?” he laughingly ended.
It seemed easy enough to reject this imputation37 in a kiss; but she wondered afterward38 if she had not deserved it. Was she really cold and conventional, and did other women give more richly and recklessly? She found that it was possible to turn about every one of her reserves and delicacies39 so that they looked like selfish scruples40 and petty pruderies, and at this game she came in time to exhaust all the resources of an over-abundant casuistry.
Meanwhile the first days after Deering’s departure wore a soft, refracted light like the radiance lingering after sunset. He, at any rate, was taxable with no reserves, no calculations, and his letters of farewell, from train and steamer, filled her with long murmurs41 and echoes of his presence. How he loved her, how he loved her — and how he knew how to tell her so!
She was not sure of possessing the same aptitude42. Unused to the expression of personal emotion, she fluctuated between the impulse to pour out all she felt and the fear lest her extravagance should amuse or even bore him. She never lost the sense that what was to her the central crisis of experience must be a mere43 episode in a life so predestined as his to romantic accidents. All that she felt and said would be subjected to the test of comparison with what others had already given him: from all quarters of the globe she saw passionate45 missives winging their way toward Deering, for whom her poor little swallow-flight of devotion could certainly not make a summer. But such moments were succeeded by others in which she raised her head and dared inwardly to affirm her conviction that no woman had ever loved him just as she had, and that none, therefore, had probably found just such things to say to him. And this conviction strengthened the other less solidly based belief that he also, for the same reason, had found new accents to express his tenderness, and that the three letters she wore all day in her shabby blouse, and hid all night beneath her pillow, surpassed not only in beauty, but in quality, all he had ever penned for other eyes.
They gave her, at any rate, during the weeks that she wore them on her heart, sensations even more complex and delicate than Deering’s actual presence had ever occasioned. To be with him was always like breasting a bright, rough sea, that blinded while it buoyed46 her: but his letters formed a still pool of contemplation, above which she could bend, and see the reflection of the sky, and the myriad47 movements of life that flitted and gleamed below the surface. The wealth of his hidden life — that was what most surprised her! It was incredible to her now that she had had no inkling of it, but had kept on blindly along the narrow track of habit, like a traveler climbing a road in a fog, who suddenly finds himself on a sunlit crag between blue leagues of sky and dizzy depths of valley. And the odd thing was that all the people about her — the whole world of the Passy pension — were still plodding48 along the same dull path, preoccupied with the pebbles49 underfoot, and unconscious of the glory beyond the fog!
There were wild hours when she longed to cry out to them what one saw from the summit — and hours of tremulous abasement50 when she asked herself why her happy feet had been guided there, while others, no doubt as worthy51, stumbled and blundered in obscurity. She felt, in particular, a sudden urgent pity for the two or three other girls at Mme. Clopin’s — girls older, duller, less alive than she, and by that very token more appealingly flung upon her sympathy. Would they ever know? Had they ever known? — those were the questions that haunted her as she crossed her companions on the stairs, faced them at the dinner-table, and listened to their poor, pining talk in the dim-lit slippery-seated salon52. One of the girls was Swiss, the other English; the third, Andora Macy, was a young lady from the Southern States who was studying French with the ultimate object of imparting it to the inmates53 of a girls’ school at Macon, Georgia.
Andora Macy was pale, faded, immature54. She had a drooping55 Southern accent, and a manner which fluctuated between arch audacity56 and fits of panicky hauteur57. She yearned58 to be admired, and feared to be insulted; and yet seemed tragically59 conscious that she was destined44 to miss both these extremes of sensation, or to enjoy them only at second hand in the experiences of her more privileged friends.
It was perhaps for this reason that she took a wistful interest in Lizzie, who had shrunk from her at first, as the depressing image of her own probable future, but to whom she had now suddenly become an object of sentimental pity.
点击收听单词发音
1 testimony | |
n.证词;见证,证明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 widower | |
n.鳏夫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 hood | |
n.头巾,兜帽,覆盖;v.罩上,以头巾覆盖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 abstain | |
v.自制,戒绝,弃权,避免 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 tremor | |
n.震动,颤动,战栗,兴奋,地震 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 descend | |
vt./vi.传下来,下来,下降 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 dedication | |
n.奉献,献身,致力,题献,献辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 elegance | |
n.优雅;优美,雅致;精致,巧妙 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 ushering | |
v.引,领,陪同( usher的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 seclusion | |
n.隐遁,隔离 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 sentimental | |
adj.多愁善感的,感伤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 motives | |
n.动机,目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 pang | |
n.剧痛,悲痛,苦闷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 suavity | |
n.温和;殷勤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 lull | |
v.使安静,使入睡,缓和,哄骗;n.暂停,间歇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 apprehensions | |
疑惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 instinctive | |
adj.(出于)本能的;直觉的;(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 defense | |
n.防御,保卫;[pl.]防务工事;辩护,答辩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 rumor | |
n.谣言,谣传,传说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 caress | |
vt./n.爱抚,抚摸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 retrospect | |
n.回顾,追溯;v.回顾,回想,追溯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 pact | |
n.合同,条约,公约,协定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 sleepless | |
adj.不睡眠的,睡不著的,不休息的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 undue | |
adj.过分的;不适当的;未到期的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 intensified | |
v.(使)增强, (使)加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 disdain | |
n.鄙视,轻视;v.轻视,鄙视,不屑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 margin | |
n.页边空白;差额;余地,余裕;边,边缘 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 prodigality | |
n.浪费,挥霍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 sincerity | |
n.真诚,诚意;真实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 abstained | |
v.戒(尤指酒),戒除( abstain的过去式和过去分词 );弃权(不投票) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 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) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 embarrassment | |
n.尴尬;使人为难的人(事物);障碍;窘迫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 intrude | |
vi.闯入;侵入;打扰,侵扰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 exclusion | |
n.拒绝,排除,排斥,远足,远途旅行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 lodgers | |
n.房客,租住者( lodger的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 imputation | |
n.归罪,责难 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 delicacies | |
n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 );精致;精美的食物;周到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 scruples | |
n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 );顾虑,顾忌v.感到于心不安,有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 murmurs | |
n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 );低语声;怨言;嘀咕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 aptitude | |
n.(学习方面的)才能,资质,天资 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 passionate | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,激昂的,易动情的,易怒的,性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 buoyed | |
v.使浮起( buoy的过去式和过去分词 );支持;为…设浮标;振奋…的精神 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 myriad | |
adj.无数的;n.无数,极大数量 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 plodding | |
a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 pebbles | |
[复数]鹅卵石; 沙砾; 卵石,小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 abasement | |
n.滥用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 salon | |
n.[法]沙龙;客厅;营业性的高级服务室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 inmates | |
n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 immature | |
adj.未成熟的,发育未全的,未充分发展的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 drooping | |
adj. 下垂的,无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 audacity | |
n.大胆,卤莽,无礼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 hauteur | |
n.傲慢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 yearned | |
渴望,切盼,向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 tragically | |
adv. 悲剧地,悲惨地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |