Fascinated, as always, by the thought of that great opera stage at the end of the hall, and feeling that she had a few moments to spare, she had gone tiptoeing down the hall. She had found the door open and was preparing to look in upon the stage when a sidewise and backward glance gave her a severe shock. Standing1 not three paces behind her was a man. With arms stretched, he was approaching silently as one does who hopes to catch some creature off guard.
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Striving in vain to still the beating of her heart, for she had recognized in this man the enemy she had made during the “battle of Maxwell Street,” Jeanne took one step out upon the opera stage. Then, realizing at a glance what was going on there, she played a bold hand. Turning half about, she hissed2: “Dare to come one step nearer and I shall scream. Do you hear? The opera is in progress. The company is on the stage. I shall scream. And then—”
She did not finish. There was no need.
A performance of Grand Opera was truly in progress at that very instant. Through a thin wall of trees and shrubs3 painted on canvas, came a peculiar4 light, a transparent5 blue that suggested birds, flowers and springtime.
Even as the girl’s lips closed there came a burst of song from the front of the stage where, hidden by the partition, there were many singers.
Licking his lips like a tiger prepared to spring the man crouched6, then moved a step forward.
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“I’ll scream!” Petite Jeanne spoke7 aloud.
The sound of her voice was drowned by the chorus on the stage.
A scream would not be drowned. The man knew that well enough. But did she dare scream? This was the question at the back of the man’s shrewd but narrow mind.
She had said she would scream. To do this would be to invite a panic. A girl’s scream coming from back-stage during a dramatic moment of a Grand Opera performance could mean something little short of murder.
And yet the man, standing there irresolute8, read in her eyes the answer: she would scream.
She looked down for an instant. When she lifted her eyes, he was gone. And the Grand Opera performance went on.
But now what? She dared not retrace9 her steps. The man would be lurking10 there.
Dashing across the back of the stage, she seized the handle of a door. It came open noiselessly. She passed through and closed it after her.
263
But where was she? In a mere11 cubby-hole of a place. A closet? No. An elevator, a French lift, the sort you operate yourself. You punch a button here and you go up; you press another button there and you stop.
She pressed a button. Up she glided12. There were floors above, many, many floors. She would come to a halt at some floor, leave the elevator, and go speeding away.
She had glided up how many floors? She could not tell. Then she became frightened.
“I’ll bump!”
She touched a second button and stopped the steel cage with a suddenness that caused her teeth to snap.
She tried to open the door. It would not budge13. She pressed the button and went gliding14 upward once more. A light gleamed before her. Once more she stopped.
This time she could open the door. She stepped from the lift, not into a room, not a hallway, but out upon an iron grating. And this grating, fifteen stories up, lay directly above the opera stage.
264
At first frightened, then fascinated, she threw herself flat upon the grating to watch with eager eyes the doings of the dwarf-like figures far below.
To this girl, born to the stage as a canary is born to the cedar15 and the humming bird to his flowering bush, the scene spelled irresistible16 enchantment17.
To make the affair more compelling she recognized the star of the evening almost at once.
The scene beneath her was one of entrancing beauty: a flower garden and a village green in her native land. And dancing upon that green, arrayed in the most colorful of costumes, were the peasants of that village.
From time to time certain members of the group left their companions and danced away toward a back-stage corner, where they stood laughing and seeming to beckon18 to some one hidden from the view of Jeanne as well as the audience.
At last the long awaited one appeared. And then, oh, joy of joys!
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“Marjory Bryce! My Marjory!” The little French girl was choked with emotion as these words escaped her. Fortunately they were too faint to be heard below.
That settled the matter. All other desires, all duties, all hopes and dreams were lost in one great desire. She must see the star of all time, her Marjory, perform, not in some dimly distant time, but right here in the golden now.
So, little dreaming what this resolve might mean, she pressed her cheeks against two iron bars and awaited the next move in this singing drama which she but dimly understood.
“Anyway,” she whispered softly, “I’ve got a top-stage seat. Who could ask for more?”
点击收听单词发音
1 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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2 hissed | |
发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 ); 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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3 shrubs | |
灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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4 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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5 transparent | |
adj.明显的,无疑的;透明的 | |
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6 crouched | |
v.屈膝,蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7 spoke | |
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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8 irresolute | |
adj.无决断的,优柔寡断的,踌躇不定的 | |
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9 retrace | |
v.折回;追溯,探源 | |
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10 lurking | |
潜在 | |
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11 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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12 glided | |
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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13 budge | |
v.移动一点儿;改变立场 | |
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14 gliding | |
v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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15 cedar | |
n.雪松,香柏(木) | |
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16 irresistible | |
adj.非常诱人的,无法拒绝的,无法抗拒的 | |
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17 enchantment | |
n.迷惑,妖术,魅力 | |
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18 beckon | |
v.(以点头或打手势)向...示意,召唤 | |
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