She passed through an archway and lit a lamp. As she turned and motioned him to a chair she thought she had never seen any one look so young. Every memory in his brain but this last might have withered8 and floated away. He recovered himself and followed her into what appeared to be a long gallery used as a living room.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said. “I think he deserved that one man should honour his memory. Why don’t you sit on this comfortable divan9?”
He arranged the pillows about her, took a chair close by, and accepted a cigarette; which, he felt, he had never needed more. She did not smoke, but sat staring straight before her. Her eyes seemed to burn her white face, but her repose10 was absolute. In a few moments she spoke11 abruptly12.
“Twice I have lifted the curtain for you. I hope I never may again. It is not good for me and can be of no use to you. All that know me here are concerned only with my present—”
“Yes, with Die Styr, not Margarethe Styr.”
“I have little private life, but you seem to have been projected into it, and you may remain if you think it would interest you to come here and talk to me occasionally.”
He did not answer her, for he was wondering again if he wanted to know her or not. Was not his personal experience of this famous woman already romantic and adventurous13 enough to satisfy any man not in love? Whatever it may have amused him to fancy before they met, that night at Neuschwanstein had convinced him that he never should love her. The woman was too wholly suffocated14 by the artist. Even now he hardly realized that he was not in the presence of Brynhildr or Iseult, summoned to earth by the necromancy15 of the mad King. Certainly he had shared her delusion16 for a moment to-night. But he was a modern of the moderns. There was nothing of the old gods in him. It was only when Styr sang that the dead men in his soul awoke and surrendered. Contact with herself did not stir his senses in the least, although it agitated17 his mind.
If there be such a thing as the diplomatic temperament18, John Ordham may be said to have possessed19 it. Side by side with the recklessness of youth and a sensitive nature, marched already a tendency to regard life as a sort of musical instrument whose keys were to be touched delicately, warily20; crashing chords to be struck at precisely21 the right moment or not at all—whatever the temptation. It was hardly more than an instinct as yet, but he had made surprisingly few mistakes for a man of his years. In spite of his British reserve he had little of the narrow conservatism of his race; his tastes, his sympathies, his points of view, were catholic. Nevertheless, even the acquaintances made outside of his own world were never of a character to cause him future annoyance22; and when he tired of them, they experienced pangs23 of self-reproach, or chafed24 at relentless25 fate. As the natural grace of his body saved him in difficult social moments, its mental partner gently extricated26 him from the most delicate situations. In spite of that stratum27 of iron in his nature, he would never be brutal28, but he might be more ruthless and inflexible29 where his interests, or perhaps his desires, were concerned, than the more primitive30 being who sticks a knife into a rival or beats his woman.
But if insensible to the sex in this woman whom so many men had loved, still loved, his mind was on the brink31 of an irresistible32 attraction. It was not so much that her secrets and her depths tormented33 his curiosity, as that her intellect called to his with that vague seductive promise of completion which is usually confined to the whispers of sex.
He turned his head and looked at her. Her eyes were staring far beyond him again, and his slight motion did not attract her attention. Her hair was half down, but her skin, although white and clear, had none of the freshness of youth. Her figure, in its loose white gown, looked massive, immobile. He had a sudden conviction that she would never receive him in a revealing gown, that he could not be more determined34 than she to keep their intercourse35 on the rational plane. In a flash he comprehended her intense loathing36 of his sex. She had demolished37 a barrier for his sake, either because she had decided38 that fate was too strong or because their chance intimacy39 had forced her to appreciate the loneliness of her life. Down in the depths of his being he fancied that he heard a sharply struck note of warning, but it was stifled40 under a rush of sympathy and mental avidity.
He felt an intense desire to relieve the tension of the moment and uttered the first commonplace that came to his mind:
“Should I not go? You look pale. Your skin has lost its wonderful luminousness—”
She replied indifferently, “I did not put it on,” then laughed. “Are you horrified41?”
“Not in the least. Why should not a complexion42 be as fine a work of art as a canvas that hangs on the line? As for nature—I have seen nothing so exquisite43 in Venice as the pictures of Turner.”
“I have worked out a make-up which enables me to delude44 the world into the belief that I am a beauty. But it is not merely these minor46 arts that disguise me; I am transfigured, even when I merely sing Venus or Senta; and that is the reason I have never been recognized in Bayreuth, where the elect of America are beginning to flock.”
“You change your eyes in both size and expression, but I should know you.”
“Now, perhaps, that my characters have become a part of myself.” She added abruptly, “I believe you know nothing in England of Ibsen, but he is the only dramatist who, in some moods, makes me wish that I were on the other stage.”
“I made my first teacher in Munich translate several of his plays: first, because it was a straight path away from declensions, then because I became interested. I never miss an Ibsen night, unless it happens to be one of yours. I hardly know whether I like him or not—yes, I suppose I do; that is to say, he fascinates my mind, while I resent him with all my inherited particles, that cry out in favour of illusions and lies.”
“Ah!” She looked at him with keen interest. “It may be those uncompromising pictures of middle-class life, mean, sordid47, bare, that excite your mere45 curiosity—you are a pampered48 baby yourself. But you are too young to hate shams49.”
“I am sure that I love them. Perhaps he merely induces an irritability50 of mind, which is a novel sensation. I shouldn’t wonder if I really hated him. I cannot imagine you in any of these r?les. You do not suggest his heroines—you whose mission it is to give intense reality to impossible romance.”
“In other words you deny my right to be called an actress?”
“Oh! oh! How can you say such a thing? I have a theory that Wagner’s music changed the character of the void itself. The souls floating downward vibrated to the new harmonies, the least of them; and now and again a great one was saturated51, absorbed, imperiously impelled—”
“I never heard a more ingenious theory, but considering that Tristan was written in ’57-’59, and G?tterd?mmerung nearly fifteen years later—”
“Souls sometimes sleep a long while,” he said softly.
For the first time he saw her flush. Then she sat erect52 suddenly.
“I won’t permit you to question my right to be called an actress! You remember the scene in Ghosts in which Mrs. Alving listens to Oswald’s terrible revelation?”
He nodded, holding his breath. She did not rise, nor repeat a word of the play, but he watched her skin turn grey, her muscles bag, the withering53 cracking soul stare through her eyes. Every part of her face expressed a separate horror, and he could have sworn that her hair turned white. He shivered as if he had fallen into the snow water beneath the tower, and stood up.
“It is too horrible! I am glad there is no such part in opera.”
She smiled triumphantly54 and Mrs. Alving vanished. But she turned pale again as he asked abruptly:
“Was it of Mrs. Alving you were thinking?”
“Yes and no. It was Mrs. Alving on a superstructure. For the moment I was that tormented mother, but were I merely a clever actress that had left a pleasant home for the stage, I might make myself feel—well—half, perhaps, of what I expressed for your benefit just now.”
He asked irresistibly55, “Are you glad or sorry?”
“Glad.” And neither had the vaguest premonition of when and where she would answer that question at length.
“I think I shall go now. It is late and I have kept you up long enough. Thank you so much.”
“What are you thanking me for?”
“Everything. When may I come again?”
“Tuesday evening for supper, if you are not invited.”
“Of course I shall come.”
They shook hands and Ordham left as he had entered. As he rowed up the Isar and heard the iron shutters56 slam, he felt some exultation57 in the thought that no longer were they closed to him. And he knew that an atmosphere both bracing58 and quickening was his to command. There was the scent59 of neither violets nor patchouli in it, in other words, neither bland60 conservatism nor commonplace outlawry61. He was too modern for the one and too fastidious for the other. He could not identify scent at all with Margarethe Styr, not even those rare and subtle perfumes fabricated for the elect, among whom was himself; and this a little disappointed him.
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1
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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9
divan
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| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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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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12
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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14
suffocated
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| （使某人）窒息而死( suffocate的过去式和过去分词 )； （将某人）闷死； 让人感觉闷热； 憋气 | |
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necromancy
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| n.巫术；通灵术 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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23
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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24
chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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26
extricated
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| v.使摆脱困难，脱身( extricate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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stratum
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| n.地层，社会阶层 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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inflexible
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| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
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30
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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32
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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36
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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37
demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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38
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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40
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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41
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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42
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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43
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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44
delude
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| vt.欺骗；哄骗 | |
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45
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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46
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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47
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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48
pampered
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| adj.饮食过量的，饮食奢侈的v.纵容，宠，娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
shams
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| 假象( sham的名词复数 )； 假货； 虚假的行为（或感情、言语等）； 假装…的人 | |
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50
irritability
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| n.易怒 | |
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51
saturated
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| a.饱和的，充满的 | |
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52
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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53
withering
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| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
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54
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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55
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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56
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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57
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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58
bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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59
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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60
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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61
outlawry
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| 宣布非法，非法化，放逐 | |
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