Other people now gathered about Mrs. Jack3 and made their farewells. They began to leave, singly and in pairs and groups, until presently no one remained except those intimates and friends who are always the last to leave a big party — Mrs. Jack and her family, George Webber, Miss Mandell, Stephen Hook, and Amy Carleton. And, of course, Mr. Logan, who was busy amid the general wreckage4 he had created, putting his wire dolls back into his two enormous valises.
The atmosphere of the whole place was now curiously5 changed. It was an atmosphere of absence, of completion. Everybody felt a little bit as one feels in a house the day after Christmas, or an hour after a wedding, or on a great liner at one of the Channel ports when most of the passengers have disembarked and the sorrowful remnant know that the voyage is really over and that they are just marking time for a little while until their own hour comes to depart.
Mrs. Jack looked at Piggy Logan and at the chaos6 he had made of her fine room, and then glanced questioningly at Lily Mandell as if to say: “Can you understand all this? What has happened?” Miss Mandell and George Webber surveyed Mr. Logan with undisguised distaste. Stephen Hook remained aloof7, looking bored. Mr. Jack, who had come forth8 from his room to bid his guests good-bye and had lingered by the elevator till the last one had gone, now peered in through the hall door at the kneeling figure in the living-room, and with a comical gesture of uplifted hands said: “What is it?”— leaving everybody convulsed with laughter.
‘But even when Mr. Jack came into the room and stood staring down quizzically, Mr. Logan did not look up. He seemed not to have heard anything. Utterly9 oblivious10 of their presence, he was happily absorbed in the methodical task of packing up the litter that surrounded him.
Meanwhile the two rosy-cheeked maids, May and Janie, were busily clearing away glasses, bottles, and bowls of ice, and Nora started putting the books back on their shelves. Mrs. Jack looked on rather helplessly, and Amy Carleton stretched herself out flat on the floor with her hands beneath her head, closed her eyes, and appeared to go to sleep. All the rest were obviously at a loss what to do, and just stood and sat around, waiting for Mr. Logan to finish and be gone.
The place had sunk back into its wonted quiet. The blended murmur11 of the unceasing city, which during the party had been shut out and forgotten, now penetrated12 the walls of the great building and closed in once more upon these lives. The noises of the street were heard again.
Outside, below them, there was the sudden roar of a fire truck, the rapid clanging of its bell. It turned the corner into Park Avenue and the powerful sound of its motors faded away like distant thunder. Mrs. Jack went to the window and looked out. Other trucks now converged13 upon the corner from different directions until four more had passed from sight.
“I wonder where the fire can be,” she remarked with detached curiosity. Another truck roared down the side street and thundered into Park. “It must be quite a big one — six engines have driven past. It must be somewhere in this neighbourhood.”
Amy Carleton sat up and blinked her eyes, and for a moment all of them were absorbed in idle speculation15 about where the fire might be. But presently they began to look again at Mr. Logan. At long last his labours seemed to be almost over. He began to close the big valises and adjust the straps16.
Just then Lily Mandell turned her head towards the hall, sniffed17 sharply, and suddenly said:
“Does anyone smell smoke?”
“Hah? What?” said Mrs. Jack. And then, going into the hall, she cried excitedly: “But yes! There is quite a strong smell of smoke out here! I think it would be just as well if we got out of the building until we find out what’s wrong.” Her face was now burning with excitement. “I suppose we’d better,” she said. “Everybody come on!” Then: “0 Mr. Logan!”— she raised her voice, and now for the first time he lifted his round and heavy face with an expression of inquiring innocence18 —“I say — I think perhaps we’d all better get out, Mr. Logan, until we find out where the fire is! Are you ready?”
“Yes, of course,” said Mr. Logan cheerfully. “But fire?”— in a puzzled tone. “What fire? Is there a fire?”
“I think the building is on fire,” said Mr. Jack smoothly19, but with an edge of heavy irony20, “so perhaps we’d better all get out — that is, unless you prefer to stay.”
“Oh no,” said Mr. Logan brightly, getting clumsily to his feet. “I’m quite ready, thank you, except for changing my clothes —”
“I think that had better wait,” said Mr. Jack.
“Oh, the girls!” cried Mrs. Jack suddenly, and, snapping the ring on and off her finger, she trotted21 briskly towards the dining-room, “Nora — Janie — May! Girls! We’re all going downstairs — there’s a fire somewhere in the building. You’ll have to come with us till we find out where it is.”
“Fire, Mrs. Jack?” said Nora stupidly, staring at her mistress.
Mrs. Jack saw at a glance her dull eye and her flushed face, and thought: “She’s been at it again! I might have known it!” Then aloud, impatiently:
“Yes, Nora, fire. Get the girls together and tell them they’ll have to come along with us. And — oh! — Cook!” she cried quickly. “Where is Cookie? Go get her, someone. Tell her she’ll have to come, too!”
The news obviously upset the girls. They looked helplessly at one another and began to move aimlessly round, as if no longer certain what to do.
“Shall we take our things, Mrs. Jack?” said Nora, looking at her dully. “Will we have time to pack?”
“Of course not, Nora!” exclaimed Mrs. Jack, out of all patience. “We’re not moving out! We’re simply going downstairs till we can learn where the fire is and how bad it is! . . . And Nora, please get Cook and bring her with you! You know how rattled22 and confused she gets!”
“Yes’m,” said Nora, staring at her helplessly. “An’ will that be all mum? —— I mean”— and gulped23 —“will we be needin’ anything?”
“For heaven’s sake, Nora —no! . . . Nothing except your coats. Tell the girls and Cook to wear their coats.”
“Yes’m,” said Nora dumbly, and after a moment, looking fuddled and confused, she went uncertainly through the dining-room to the kitchen.
Mr. Jack meanwhile, had gone out into the hall and was ringing the elevator bell. There, after a short interval24, his family, guests, and servants joined him. Quietly he took stock of them:
Esther’s face was flaming with suppressed excitement, but her sister, Edith, who had hardly opened her mouth all evening and had been so inconspicuous that no one had noticed her, was her usual pale, calm self. Good girl, Edith! His daughter, Alma, he observed with satisfaction, was also taking this little adventure in her stride. She looked cool, beautiful, a bit bored by it all. The guests, of course, were taking it as a lark25 — and why not? —they had nothing to lose. All except that young Gentile fool — George What’s-his-name. Look at him now — all screwed up and tense, pacing back and forth and darting26 his feverish27 glances in all directions. You’d think it was his property that was going up in smoke!
But where was that Mr. Piggy Logan? When last seen, he was disappearing into the guest-room. Was the idiot changing his clothes after all? — Ah, here he comes! “At least,” thought Mr. Jack humorously, “it must be he, for if it isn’t who in the name of God is it?”
The figure that Mr. Logan now cut as he emerged from the guest-room and started down the hall was, indeed, a most extraordinary one. All of them turned to look at him and saw that he was taking no chances of losing his little wire dolls or his street clothes in any fire. Still wearing the “costume” that he had put on for his performance, he came grunting28 along with a heavy suitcase in each hand, and over one shoulder he had slung29 his coat, vest, and trousers, his overweight tan shoes were tied together by their laces and hung suspended round his neck, where they clunked against his chest as he walked, and on his head, perched on top of the football helmet, was his neat grey hat. So accoutred, he came puffing31 along, dropped his bags near the elevator, then straightened up and grinned cheerfully.
Mr. Jack kept on ringing the bell persistently32, and presently the voice of Herbert, the elevator boy, could be heard shouting up the shaft33 from a floor or two below:
“All right! All right! I’ll be right up, folks, as soon as I take down this load!”
The sound of other people’s voices, excited, chattering, came up the shaft to them; then the elevator door banged shut and they could hear the car going down.
There was nothing to do but wait. The smell of smoke in the hallway was getting stronger all the time, and although no one was seriously alarmed, even the phlegmatic34 Mr. Logan was beginning to feel the nervous tension.
Soon the elevator could be heard coming up again. It mounted steadily35 — and then suddenly stopped somewhere just below them. Herbert could be heard working his lever and fooling with the door. Mr. Jack rang the bell impatiently. There was no response. He hammered on the door. Then Herbert shouted up again, and he was so near that all of them could hear every word:
“Mr. Jack, will you all please use the service elevator. This one’s, out of order. I can’t go any farther.”
“Well, that’s that,” said Mr. Jack.
He put on his derby, and without another word started down the hall towards the service landing. In silence the others followed him.,
At this moment the lights went out. The place was plunged36 in inky blackness. There was a brief, terrifying moment when the women caught their breaths sharply. In the darkness the smell of smoke seemed much stronger, more acrid37 and biting, and it was beginning to make their eyes smart. Nora moaned a little, and all; the servants started to mill round like stricken cattle. But they calmed down at the comforting assurance in Mr. Jack’s quiet voice speaking in the dark:
“Esther,” he said calmly, “we’ll have to light candles. Can you tell’ me where they are?”
She told him. He reached into a table drawer, pulled out a flashlight, and went through a door that led to the kitchen. Soon he reappeared with a box of tallow candles. He gave one to each person and lighted them.
They were now a somewhat ghostly company. The women lifted their candles and looked at one another with an air of bewildered surmise38. The faces of the maids and Cookie, in the steady flame that each held before her face, looked dazed and frightened. Cookie wore a confused, fixed39 smile and muttered jargon40 to herself. Mrs. Jack, deeply excited, turned questioningly to George, who was at her side:
“Isn’t it strange?” she whispered. “Isn’t it the strangest thing? I mean — the party — all the people — and then this.” And, lifting her candle higher, she looked about her at the ghostly company.
And, suddenly, George was filled with almost unbearable41 love and tenderness for her, because he knew that she, like himself, felt in her heart the mystery and strangeness of all life. And his emotion was all the more poignant42 because in the same instant, with sharp anguish43, he remembered his decision, and knew that they had reached the parting of the ways.
Mr. Jack flourished his candle as a signal to the others and led the procession down the hall. Edith, Alma, Miss Mandell, Amy Carleton, and Stephen Hook followed after him. Mr. Logan, who came next, was in a quandary44. He couldn’t manage both his baggage and his light, so after a moment of indecision he blew out his candle, set it on the floor, seized his valises, gave a mighty45 heave, and, with neck held stiff to keep his hat from tumbling off of the football helmet, he staggered after the retreating figures of the women. Mrs. Jack and George came last, with the servants trailing behind.
Mrs. Jack had reached the door that opened on to the service landing when she heard a confused shuffling46 behind her in the line, and when she glanced back along the hallway she saw two teetering candles disappearing in the general direction of the kitchen. It was Cook and Nora.
“Oh Lord!” cried Mrs. Jack in a tone of exasperation47 and despair. “What on earth are they trying to do? . . . Nora!” She raised her voice sharply. Cook had already disappeared, but Nora heard her and turned in a bewildered way. “Nora, where are you going?” shouted Mrs. Jack impatiently.
“Why — why, mum — I just thought I’d go back here an’ get some things,” said Nora in a confused and thickened voice.
“No you won’t, either!” cried Mrs. Jack furiously, at the same time thinking bitterly: “She probably wanted to sneak48 back there to get another drink!”
“You come right along with us!” she called sharply. “And where is Cook?” Then, seeing the two bewildered girls, May and Janie, milling round helplessly, she took them by the arm and gave them a little push towards the door. “You girls get along!” she cried. “What are you gawking at?”
George had gone back after the befuddled49 Nora, and, after seizing her and herding50 her down the hall, had dashed into the kitchen to find Cook. Mrs. Jack followed him with her candle held high in her hand, and said anxiously:
“Are you there, darling?” Then, calling out loudly: “Cook! Cook! Where are you?”
Suddenly Cook appeared like a spectral51 visitant, still clutching her candle and flitting from room to room down the narrow hall of the servants’ quarters. Mrs. Jack cried out angrily:
“Oh, Cookie! What are you doing? You’ve simply got to come on now! We’re waiting on you!” And she thought to herself again, as she had thought so many times before: “She’s probably an old miser52. I suppose she’s got her wad hoarded53 away back there somewhere. That’s why she hates to leave.”
Cook had disappeared again, this time into her own room. After a brief, fuming54 silence Mrs. Jack turned to George. They looked at each other for a moment in that strange light and circumstance, and suddenly both laughed explosively.
“My God!” shrieked55 Mrs. Jack. “Isn’t it the damnedest ——”
At this moment Cook emerged once more and glided56 away down the hall. They yelled at her and dashed after her, and caught her just as she was about to lock herself into a bathroom.
“Now Cook!” cried Mrs. Jack angrily. “Come on now! You simply must!”
Cook goggled57 at her and muttered some incomprehensible jargon in an ingratiating tone.
“Do you hear, Cook?” Mrs. Jack cried furiously. “You’ve got to come now! You can’t stay here any longer!”
“Augenblick! Augenblick!” muttered Cook cajolingly.
At last she thrust something into her bosom58, and, still looking longingly59 behind her, allowed herself to be prodded60, pushed, and propelled down the servants’ hall, into the kitchen, through the door into the main hallway, and thence out to the service landing.
All the others were now gathered there, waiting while Mr. Jack tested the bell of the service elevator. His repeated efforts brought no response, so in a few moments he said coolly:
“Well, I suppose there’s nothing for us to do now except to walk down.”
Immediately he headed for the concrete stairs beside the elevator shaft, which led, nine flights down, to the ground floor and safety. The others followed him. Mrs. Jack and George herded62 the servants before them and waited for Mr. Logan to get a firm grip on his suitcases and start down, which at length he did, puffing and blowing and letting the bags bump with loud thuds on each step as he descended63.
The electric lights on the service stairways were still burning dimly, but they clung to their candles with an instinctive64 feeling that these primitive65 instruments were now more to be trusted than the miracles of science. The smoke had greatly increased. In fact, the air was now so dense66 with floating filaments67 and shifting plumes68 that breathing was uncomfortable.
From top to bottom the service stairs provided an astounding69 spectacle. Doors were opening now on every floor and other tenants70 were coming out to swell71 the tide of refugees. They made an extraordinary conglomeration72 — a composite of classes, types, and characters that could have been found nowhere else save in a New York apartment house such as this. There were people in splendid evening dress, and beautiful women blazing with jewels and wearing costly73 wraps. There were others in pyjamas74 who had evidently been awakened75 from sleep and had hastily put on slippers76, dressing-gowns, kimonos, or whatever garments they could snatch up in the excitement of the moment. There were young and old, masters and servants, a mixture of a dozen races and their excited babel of strange tongues. There were German cooks and French maids, English butlers and Irish serving girls. There were Swedes and Danes and Italians and Norwegians, with a sprinkling of White Russians. There were Poles and Czechs and Austrians, Negroes and Hungarians. All of these poured out helter-skelter on the landing-stages of the service stairway, chattering, gesticulating, their interests all united now in their common pursuit of safety.
As they neared the ground floor, helmeted firemen began to push their way up the stairs against the tide of downward-moving traffic. Several policemen followed them and tried to allay77 any feelings of alarm or panic.
“It’s all right, folks! Everything’s O.K.!” one big policeman shouted cheerfully as he went up past the members of the Jack party. “The fire’s over now!”
These words, spoken to quiet the people and to expedite their orderly progress from the building, had an opposite effect from that which the policeman had intended. George Webber, who was bringing up the end of the procession, paused upon hearing these reassuring79 words, called to the others, and turned to retrace80 his way upstairs again. As he did so, he saw that the policeman was about to throw a fit. From the landing half a flight above, he was making agonised faces and frantic81 gestures at George in a silent and desperate entreaty82 to him not to come back any farther or to encourage the others to come back, but to leave the building as quickly as possible. The others had looked round when George had called, and had witnessed this pantomime — so now, genuinely alarmed for the first time, they turned again and fled down the stairs as fast as they could go.
George himself, seized with the same momentary83 panic, was hastening after them when he heard some tapping and hammering noises from the shaft of the service elevator. They seemed to come from up above somewhere. For just a moment he hesitated and listened. The tapping began, then stopped . . . began again . . . stopped again. It seemed to be a signal of some kind, but he couldn’t make it out. It gave him an eerie84 feeling. A chill ran up his spine85. He broke out in goose flesh. Stumbling blindly, he fled after the others.
As they came out into the great central court-yard of the building, their moment’s terror dropped away from them as quickly as it had come upon them. They filled their lungs with the crisp, cold air, and so immediate61 was their sense of release and relief that each one of them felt a new surge of life and energy, a preternaturally heightened aliveness. Mr. Logan, his round face streaming with perspiration86 and his breath coming in loud snorts and wheezes87, summoned his last remaining strength and, ignoring the tender shins of those about him, bumped and banged his burdened way through the crowd and disappeared. The others of Mr. Jack’s party remained together, laughing and talking and watching with alert interest everything that was going on round them.
The scene of which they were a part was an amazing one. As if it had been produced by the combining genius of a Shakespeare or a Breughel, the whole theatre of human life was in it, so real and so miraculously88 compressed that it had the nearness and the intensity89 of a vision. The great hollow square formed by the towering walls of the building was filled with people in every conceivable variety of dress and undress. And from two dozen entry ways within the arched cloisters90 that ran round the court on all four sides, new hordes91 of people were now constantly flooding out of the huge honeycomb to add their own colour and movement and the babel of their own tumultuous tongues to the pageantry and the pandemonium92 already there. Above this scene, uplifted on the arches of the cloisters, the mighty walls soared fourteen storeys to frame the starry93 heavens. In the wing where Mr. Jack’s apartment was the lights were out and all was dark, but everywhere else those beetling94 sides were still blazing with their radiant squares of warmth, their many cells still burning with all the huge deposit of their just-departed life.
Except for the smoke that had been in some of the halls and stairways, there was no sign of fire. As yet, few people seemed to comprehend the significance of the event which had so unceremoniously dumped them out of their sleek95 nests into the open weather. For the most part they were either bewildered and confused or curious and excited. Only an occasional person here and there betrayed any undue96 alarm over the danger which had touched their lives and fortunes.
Such a one now appeared at a second-floor window on the side of the court directly opposite the Jacks97’ entry. He was a man with a bald head and a pink, excited face, and it was instantly apparent that he was on the verge14 of emotional collapse98. He threw open the window and in a tone shaken by incipient99 hysteria cried out loudly:
“Mary! . . . Mary!” His voice rose almost to a scream as he sought for her below.
A woman in the crowd came forward below the window, looked up, and said quietly:
“Yes, Albert.”
“I can’t find the key!” he cried in a trembling voice. “The door’s locked! I can’t get out!”
“Oh, Albert,” said the woman more quietly and with evident embarrassment100, “don’t get so excited, dear. You’re in no danger — and the key is bound to be there somewhere. I’m sure you’ll find it if you look.”
“But I tell you it isn’t here!” he babbled101. “I’ve looked, and it’s not here! I can’t find it! . . . Here, you fellows!” he shouted to some firemen who were dragging a heavy hose across the gravelled court. “I’m locked in! I want out of here!”
Most of the firemen paid no attention to him at all, but one of them looked up at the man, said briefly103: “O.K., chief!”— and then went on about his work.
“Do you hear me?” the man screamed. “You firemen, you! I tell you . . . 1”
“Dad . . . Dad”— a young man beside the woman on the ground now spoke78 up quietly —“don’t get so excited. You’re in no danger there. All the fire is on the other side. They’ll let you out in a minute when they can get to you.”
Across the court, at the very entrance from which the Jacks had issued, a man in evening clothes, accompanied by his chauffeur104, had been staggering in and out with great loads of ponderous105 ledgers106. He had already accumulated quite a pile of them, which he was stacking up on the gravel102 and leaving under the guardianship107 of his butler. From the beginning this man had been so absorbed in what he was doing that he was completely unconscious of the milling throng108 round him. Now, as he again prepared to rush into the smoke-filled corridor with his chauffeur, he was stopped by the police.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the policeman said, “but you can’t go in there again. We’ve got orders not to let anybody in.”
“But I’ve got to!” the man shouted. “I’m Philip J. Baer!” At the sound of this potent109 name, all those within hearing distance instantly recognised him as a wealthy and influential110 figure in the motion picture industry, and one whose accounts had recently been called into investigation111 by a board of governmental inquiry112. “There are seventy-five millions dollars’ worth of records in my apartment,” he shouted, “and I’ve got to get them out! They’ve got to be saved!”
He tried to push his way in, but the policeman thrust him back.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Baer,” he said obdurately113, “but we have our orders. You can’t come in.”
The effect of this refusal was instantaneous and shocking. The one principle of Mr. Baer’s life was that money is the only thing that counts because money can buy anything. That principle had been flouted114. So the naked philosophy of tooth and claw, which in moments of security and comfort was veiled beneath a velvet115 sheath, now became ragingly insistent116. A tall, dark man with a rapacious117, beak-nosed face, he became now like a wild animal, a beast of prey118. He went charging about among the crowds of people, offering everyone fabulous119 sums if they would save his cherished records. He rushed up to a group of firemen, seizing one of them by the arm and shaking him, shouting:
“I’m Philip J. Baer — I live in there! You’ve got to help me! I’ll give any man here ten thousand dollars if he’ll get my records out!”
The burly fireman turned his weathered face upon the rich man. “On your way, brother!” he said.
“But I tell you!” Mr. Baer shouted. “You don’t know who I am! I’m ——”
“I don’t care who you are!” the fireman said. “On your way now! We’ve got work to do!”
And, roughly, he pushed the great man aside.
Most of the crowd behaved very well under the stress of these unusual circumstances. Since there was no actual fire to watch, the people shifted and moved about, taking curious side looks at one another out of the corners of their eyes. Most of them had never even seen their neighbours before, and now for the first time they had an opportunity to appraise120 one another. And in a little while, as the excitement and their need for communication broke through the walls of their reserve, they began to show a spirit of fellowship such as that enormous beehive of life had never seen before. People who, at other times, had never deigned121 so much as to nod at each other were soon laughing and talking together with the familiarity of long acquaintance.
A famous courtesan, wearing a chinchilla coat which her aged122 but wealthy lover had given her, now took off this magnificent garment and, walking over to an elderly woman with a delicate, patrician123 face, she threw the coat over this woman’s thinly covered shoulders, at the same time saying in a tough but kindly124 voice:
“You wear this, dearie. You look cold.”
And the older woman, after a startled expression had crossed her proud face, smiled graciously and thanked her tarnished125 sister in a sweet tone. Then the two women stood talking together like old friends.
A haughty126 old Bourbon of the Knickerbocker type was seen engaged in cordial conversation with a Tammany politician whose corrupt127 plunderings were notorious, and whose companionship, in any social sense, the Bourbon would have spurned128 indignantly an hour before.
Aristocrats129 of ancient lineage who had always held to a tradition of stiff-necked exclusiveness could be seen chatting familiarly with the plebeian130 parvenus131 of the new rich who had got their names and money, both together, only yesterday.
And so it went everywhere one looked. One saw race-proud Gentiles with rich Jews, stately ladies with musical-comedy actresses, a woman famous for the charities with a celebrated132 whore.
Meanwhile the crowd continued to watch curiously the labours of the firemen. Though no flames were visible, there was plenty of smoke in some of the halls and corridors, and the firemen had dragged in many lengths of great white hose which now made a network across the court in all directions. From time to time squadrons of helmeted men would dash into the smoky entries of the wing where the lights were out and would go upstairs, their progress through the upper floors made evident to the crowd below by the movement of their flashlights at the darkened windows. Others would emerge from the lower regions of basements and subterranean133 passages, and would confer intimately with their chiefs and leaders.
All at once somebody in the waiting throng noticed something and pointed134 towards it. A murmur ran through the crowd, and all eyes were turned upwards135 searchingly to one of the top-floor apartments in the darkened wing. There, through an open window four floors directly above the Jack’s apartment, wisps of smoke could be seen curling upwards.
Before very long the wisps increased to clouds, and suddenly a great billowing puff30 of oily black smoke burst through the open window, accompanied by a dancing shower of sparks. At this the whole crowd drew in its collective breath in a sharp intake136 of excitement — the strange, wild joy that people always feel when they see fire.
Rapidly the volume of smoke increased. That single room on the top floor was apparently137 the only one affected138, but now the black and oily-looking smoke was billowing out in belching139 folds, and inside the room the smoke was coloured luridly140 by the sinister141 and unmistakable glow of fire.
Mrs. Jack gazed upwards with a rapt and fascinated expression. She turned to Hook with one hand raised and lightly clenched142 against her breast, and whispered slowly:
“Steve — isn’t it the strangest — the most ——?” She did not finish. With her eyes full of the deep sense of wonder that she was trying to convey, she just stood with her hand loosely clenched and looked at him.
He understood her perfectly143 — too well, indeed. His heart was sick with fear, with hunger, and with fascinated wonder. For him the whole scene was too strong, too full of terror and overwhelming beauty to be endured. He was sick with it, fainting with it. He wanted to be borne away, to be sealed hermetically somewhere, in some dead and easeful air where he would be free forever more of this consuming fear that racked his flesh. And yet he could not tear himself away. He looked at everything with sick but fascinated eyes. He was like a man mad with thirst who drinks the waters of the sea and sickens with each drop he drinks, yet cannot leave off drinking because of the wetness and the coolness to his lips. So he looked and loved it all with the desperate ardour of his fear. He saw the wonder of it, the strangeness of it, the beauty and the magic and the nearness of it. And it was so much more real than anything imagination could contrive144 that the effect was overpowering. The whole thing took on an aura of the incredible.
“It can’t be true,” he thought. “It’s unbelievable. But here it is!”
And there it was. He didn’t miss a thing. And yet he stood there ridiculously, a derby hat upon his head, his hands thrust into the pockets of his overcoat, the velvet collar turned up round his neck, his face, as usual, turned three-quarters away from the whole world, his heavy-lidded, wearily indifferent eyes surveying the scene with Mandarin145 contempt, as if to say: “Really, what is this curious assembly? Who are these extraordinary creatures that go milling about me? And why is everyone so frightfully eager, so terribly earnest about everything?”
A group of firemen thrust past him with the dripping brass-nozzled end of a great hose. It slid through the gravel like the tough-scaled hide of a giant boa constrictor, and as the firemen passed him, Hook heard their booted feet upon the stones and he saw the crude strength and the simple driving purpose in their coarse faces. And his heart shrank back within him, sick with fear, with wonder, with hunger, and with love at the unconscious power, joy, energy, and violence of life itself.
At the same moment a voice in the crowd — drunken, boisterous146, and too near — cut the air about him. It jarred his ears\, angered him, and made him timorously147 hope it would not come closer. Turning slightly towards Mrs. Jack, in answer to her whispered question, he murmured in a bored tone:
“Strange? . . . Um . . . yes. An interesting revelation of the native moeurs.”
Amy Carleton seemed really happy. It was as if, for the first time that evening, she had found what she was looking for. Nothing in her manner or appearance had changed. The quick, impetuous speech, the broken, semi-coherent phrases, the hoarse148 laugh, the exuberant149 expletives, and the lovely, dark, crisp-curled head with its snub nose and freckled150 face were just the same. Still there was something different about her. It was as if all the splintered elements of her personality had now, in the strong and marvellous chemistry of the fire, been brought together into crystalline union. She was just as she had been before, except that her inner torment151 had somehow been let out, and wholeness let in.
Poor child! It was now instantly apparent to those who knew her that, like so many other “lost” people, she would not have been lost at all — if only there could always be a fire. The girl could not accept getting up in the morning or going to bed at night, or doing any of the accustomed things in their accustomed order. But she could and did accept the fire. It seemed to her wonderful. She was delighted with everything that happened. She threw herself into it, not as a spectator, but as a vital and inspired participant. She seemed to know people everywhere, and could be seen moving about from group to group, her ebony head bobbing through the crowd, her voice eager, hoarse, abrupt152, elated. When she returned to her own group she was full of it all.
“I mean! . . . You know!” she burst out. “These firemen here!”— she gestured hurriedly towards three or four helmeted men as they dashed into a smoke-filled entry with a tube of chemicals —“when you think of what they have to know! — of what they have to do! — I went to a big fire once!”— she shot out quickly in explanatory fashion —“a guy in the department was a friend of mine! — I mean!”— she laughed hoarsely153, elatedly —“when you think of what they have to ——”
At this point there was a splintering crash within. Amy laughed jubilantly and made a quick and sudden little gesture as if this answered everything.
“After all, I mean!” she cried.
While this was going on, a young girl in evening dress had wandered casually154 up to the group and, with that freedom which the fire had induced among all these people, now addressed herself in the flat, nasal, and almost toneless accents of the Middle West to Stephen Hook:
“You don’t think it’s very bad, do you?” she said, looking up at the smoke and flames that were now belching formidably from the top-floor window. Before anyone had a chance to answer, she went on: “I hope it’s not bad.”
Hook, who was simply terrified at her raw intrusion, had turned away from her and was looking at her sideways with eyes that were almost closed. The girl, getting no answer from him, spoke now to Mrs. Jack:
“It’ll be just too bad if anything is wrong up there, won’t it?” Mrs. Jack, her face full of friendly reassurance155, answered quickly in a gentle voice.
“No, dear,” she said, “I don’t think it’s bad at all.” She looked up with trouble in her eyes at the billowing mass of smoke and flame which now, to tell the truth, looked not only bad but distinctly threatening; then, lowering her perturbed156 gaze quickly, she said to the girl encouragingly: “I’m sure everything is going to be all right.”
“Well,” said the girl, “I hope you’re right . . . Because,” she added, apparently as an afterthought as she turned away, “that’s Mama’s room, and if she’s up there it’ll be just too bad, won’t it? — I mean, if it is too bad.”
With this astounding utterance157, spoken casually in a flat voice that betrayed no emotion whatever, she moved off into the crowd.
There was dead silence for a moment. Then Mrs. Jack turned to Hook in alarm, as if she were not certain she had heard aright.
“Did you hear? —” she began in a bewildered tone.
“But there you are!” broke in Amy, with a short, exultant158 laugh. “What I mean is — the whole thing’s there!”
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1
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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2
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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3
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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4
wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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5
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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6
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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7
aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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8
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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9
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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11
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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12
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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13
converged
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| v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的过去式 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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14
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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15
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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16
straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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17
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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18
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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19
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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21
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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22
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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23
gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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24
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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25
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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26
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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27
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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28
grunting
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| 咕哝的，呼噜的 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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30
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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31
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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32
persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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33
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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34
phlegmatic
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| adj.冷静的，冷淡的，冷漠的，无活力的 | |
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35
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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36
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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37
acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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38
surmise
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| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
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39
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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40
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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41
unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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42
poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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43
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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44
quandary
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| n.困惑，进迟两难之境 | |
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45
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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46
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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47
exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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48
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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49
befuddled
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| adj.迷糊的，糊涂的v.使烂醉( befuddle的过去式和过去分词 )；使迷惑不解 | |
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50
herding
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| 中畜群 | |
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51
spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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52
miser
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| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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53
hoarded
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| v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
fuming
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| 愤怒( fume的现在分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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55
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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57
goggled
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| adj.戴护目镜的v.睁大眼睛瞪视， （惊讶的）转动眼珠( goggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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59
longingly
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| adv. 渴望地 热望地 | |
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60
prodded
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| v.刺，戳( prod的过去式和过去分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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61
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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62
herded
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| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
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63
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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64
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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65
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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66
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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67
filaments
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| n.（电灯泡的）灯丝( filament的名词复数 )；丝极；细丝；丝状物 | |
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68
plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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69
astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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70
tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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71
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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72
conglomeration
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| n.团块，聚集，混合物 | |
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73
costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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74
pyjamas
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| n.（宽大的）睡衣裤 | |
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75
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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76
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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77
allay
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| v.消除，减轻(恐惧、怀疑等) | |
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78
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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79
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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80
retrace
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| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
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81
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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82
entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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83
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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84
eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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85
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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86
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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87
wheezes
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| n.喘息声( wheeze的名词复数 )v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的第三人称单数 ) | |
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88
miraculously
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| ad.奇迹般地 | |
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89
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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90
cloisters
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| n.（学院、修道院、教堂等建筑的）走廊( cloister的名词复数 )；回廊；修道院的生活；隐居v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的第三人称单数 ) | |
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91
hordes
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| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
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92
pandemonium
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| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
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93
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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94
beetling
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| adj.突出的，悬垂的v.快速移动( beetle的现在分词 ) | |
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95
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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96
undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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97
jacks
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| n.抓子游戏；千斤顶( jack的名词复数 )；（电）插孔；[电子学]插座；放弃 | |
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98
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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99
incipient
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| adj.起初的，发端的，初期的 | |
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100
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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101
babbled
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| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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102
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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103
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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104
chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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105
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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106
ledgers
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| n.分类账( ledger的名词复数 ) | |
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107
guardianship
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| n. 监护, 保护, 守护 | |
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108
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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111
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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113
obdurately
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| adv.顽固地，执拗地 | |
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114
flouted
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| v.藐视，轻视( flout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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rapacious
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| adj.贪婪的，强夺的 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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appraise
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| v.估价，评价，鉴定 | |
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deigned
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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patrician
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| adj.贵族的，显贵的；n.贵族；有教养的人；罗马帝国的地方官 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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corrupt
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| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
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spurned
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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aristocrats
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| n.贵族( aristocrat的名词复数 ) | |
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plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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parvenus
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| n.暴富者( parvenu的名词复数 )；暴发户；新贵；傲慢自负的人 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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subterranean
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| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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intake
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| n.吸入，纳入；进气口，入口 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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belching
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| n. 喷出，打嗝 动词belch的现在分词形式 | |
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luridly
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| adv. 青灰色的(苍白的, 深浓色的, 火焰等火红的) | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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Mandarin
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| n.中国官话，国语，满清官吏；adj.华丽辞藻的 | |
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boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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timorously
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| adv.胆怯地，羞怯地 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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154
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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155
reassurance
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| n.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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156
perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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157
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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158
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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