159
As she closed her eyes, however, she realized that this vision belonged to the remote past—her very earliest childhood. In those days, she faintly recalled, there had been in a room of some house where she lived, an hour glass. This hour glass was composed of two glass funnels3 whose very narrow tips were made to meet. One of these funnels had been filled with fine sand. Then the broad ends of each had been sealed.
When this hour glass was set down with the empty funnel at the bottom, the sand trickled4 slowly down from the upper one.
“I seem to be inside the full glass,” she told herself. “The sands of time are sinking and I am sinking with them. Struggle as I may, I sink, sink, sink!
“But perhaps,” she said with a little shudder5, “the giant hand of Fate, passing by, will seize the glass and turn it end for end. Then the sand will begin trickling6 down upon my head.”
The thought did not please her, so, shaking herself free from it, she hastened down the stairs and caught a bus, and whirled away toward quite another world.
160
As she closed her eyes once more for a moment’s rest, a second vision passed before her. A fleeting7 but very real vision it was, too—a marble falcon8 with a broken beak9 looking intently toward the sky. Then she recalled Merry’s words as they had parted on the previous evening: “Things are rather hard at times, but the falcon still looks up, so all will be well in the end.”
In spite of her efforts at self-control, Jeanne found her knees trembling as she entered Jimmie’s circle of light that night.
“For shame!” She stamped her dainty foot. “What is there to fear? The sound of wings. A bat perhaps, or a pigeon.”
Even as she said the words, she knew that she was lying to herself. There were no pigeons in the place. Pigeons leave marks. There were no marks. Bats there could not be, for bats pass on silent wings. Then, too, they snap their teeth.
“It is nothing,” she insisted stoutly10, “and I shall dance to-night as never before!”
Jimmy was ready, later, to testify that she carried out this promise to herself.
161
“Like some divine one,” was the way he expressed it. “I tell you,” he fairly stammered11 in his enthusiasm, “you could see her floating about like a ghost on that dark old stage!”
Once her feet began their tapping, Jeanne thought only of the Fire God and her art. Gone were thoughts of rushing wings and crashing glass, of darkness and the terror that lurks12 in the night.
Gone, too, was the shabby old playhouse with its dingy13 drapes and tarnished14 gilt15. She seemed not there at all. In spirit she found herself beside a roadway at the edge of a pleasant village in France. It was springtime. The scent16 of apple blossoms was in the air. The dwarf17 pear trees that grew so close against the wall, were green with new leaves. The gypsies were about her, they and the country folk. Bihari was sawing at his violin. Jaquis was strumming a guitar and she was dancing bare-foot on the soft grass of spring, while the eyes of the Fire God gleamed softly upon her. It was all so like a dream that she wished it might last forever.
162
Slowly there drifted into that dream a sound. At first she thought it was only a part of the dream, the clap of night hawks’ wings as they circled in the moonlight.
“But no!” Her face went white. “It is the wings, the fluttering of wings!” She almost cried aloud.
At the same instant she became conscious of some presence among the shadows that circled her on every side.
Panic seized her. She wanted to run away; yet she dared not. Close about her was Jimmie’s friendly circle of light. Beyond that was what? She dared not stir from that circle.
Suddenly her dancing ceased. Standing18 there alone in that sea of darkness, she stretched slim arms high, and cried:
“Jimmie! Jimmie! I’m terribly afraid! Don’t leave me! Please, please don’t let the light fade!”
Jimmie read real terror in her eyes, and in his honest devotion would have risked anything to save her from the unknown terror that lurked19 in the dark.
163
But he was helpless for in an instant the place went black. He had not touched a switch, yet his light had blinked out. His head whirled. His trembling hand found a switch, threw it on. Still no light. Another and yet another.
“The house is dark! The wires are cut!” he told himself frantically20.
Feeling his way along the aisle21, he began stumbling down a stairway when to his startled ears there came a long drawn22, piercing scream.
After that followed silence, silence such as only an empty playhouse holds in the dark night.
For a full minute he saw nothing, heard nothing. Then came a sound. Faint, yet very distinct it came, and appeared to cross the hall from end to end.
“Wings,” he murmured. “Just what she said. The flutter of wings!”
点击收听单词发音
1 funnel | |
n.漏斗;烟囱;v.汇集 | |
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2 gliding | |
v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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3 funnels | |
漏斗( funnel的名词复数 ); (轮船,火车等的)烟囱 | |
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4 trickled | |
v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 );淌;使)慢慢走;缓慢移动 | |
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5 shudder | |
v.战粟,震动,剧烈地摇晃;n.战粟,抖动 | |
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6 trickling | |
n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 );淌;使)慢慢走;缓慢移动 | |
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7 fleeting | |
adj.短暂的,飞逝的 | |
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8 falcon | |
n.隼,猎鹰 | |
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9 beak | |
n.鸟嘴,茶壶嘴,钩形鼻 | |
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10 stoutly | |
adv.牢固地,粗壮的 | |
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11 stammered | |
v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12 lurks | |
n.潜在,潜伏;(lurk的复数形式)vi.潜伏,埋伏(lurk的第三人称单数形式) | |
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13 dingy | |
adj.昏暗的,肮脏的 | |
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14 tarnished | |
(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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15 gilt | |
adj.镀金的;n.金边证券 | |
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16 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
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17 dwarf | |
n.矮子,侏儒,矮小的动植物;vt.使…矮小 | |
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18 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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19 lurked | |
vi.潜伏,埋伏(lurk的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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20 frantically | |
ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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21 aisle | |
n.(教堂、教室、戏院等里的)过道,通道 | |
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22 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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