***** That Nessim had her watched I for a long time doubted; after all, she seemed as free as a bat to flit about the town at night, and never did I hear her called upon to give an account of her movements. It could not have been easy to spy upon someone so protean44, in touch with the life of the town at so many points. Nevertheless it is possible that she was watched lest she should come to harm. One night an incident brought this home to me, for I had been asked to dine at the old house. When they were alone we dined in a little pavilion at the end of the garden where the summer coolness could mingle45 with the whisper of water from the four lions’ heads bordering the fountain. Justine was late on this particular occasion and Nessim sat alone, with the curtains drawn back towards the west reflectively polishing a yellow jade46 from his collection in those long gentle fingers. It was already forty minutes past the hour and he had already given the signal for dinner to begin when the little black telephone extension gave a small needle-like sound. He crossed to the table and picked it up with a sigh, and I heard him say, ‘yes’ impatiently; then he spoke47 for a while in a low voice, the language changing abruptly48 to Arabic, and for a moment I had the sudden intuitive feeling that it was Mnemjian talking to him over the wire. I do not know why I should feel this. He scribbled49 something rapidly on an envelope and putting down the receiver stood for a second memorizing what he had written. Then he turned to me, and it was all of a sudden a different Nessim who said: ‘Justine may need our help. Will you come with me?’ And without waiting for an answer he ran down the steps, past the lily-pond in the direction of the garage. I followed as well as I could and it could only have been a matter of minutes before he swung the little sports car through the heavy gates into Rue13 Fuad and began to weave his way down to the sea through the network of streets which slide down towards Ras El Tin. Though it was not late there were few people about and we raced away along the curving flanks of the Esplanade towards the Yacht Club grimly overtaking the few horse-drawn cabs (‘carriages of love’) which dawdled50 up and down by the sea. At the fort we doubled back and entered the huddled51 slums which lie behind Tatwig Street, our blond headlights picking out the ant-hill cafés and crowded squares with an unaccustomed radiance; from somewhere behind the immediate52 skyline of smashed and unlimbered houses came the piercing shrieks53 and ululations of a burial procession, whose professional mourners made the night hideous54 with their plaints for the dead. We abandoned the car in a narrow street by the mosque55 and Nessim entered the shadowy doorway56 of some great tenement57 house, half of which consisted of shuttered and barred offices with blurred58 nameplates. A solitary59 boab (the concierge60 of Egypt) sat on his perch61 wrapped in clouts62, for all the world like some discarded material object (an old motor tyre, say) — smoking a short-stemmed hubble-bubble. Nessim spoke to him sharply, and almost before the man could reply passed through the back of the building into a sort of dark backyard flanked by a series of dilapidated houses built of earth-brick and scaly63 plaster. He stopped only to light his cigarette-lighter, and by its feeble light we began to quest along the doors. At the fourth door he clicked the machine shut and knocked with his fist. Receiving no answer he pushed it open. A dark corridor led to a small shadowy room lit by the feeble light of rush-lamps. This was apparently64 our destination. The scene upon which we intruded65 was ferociously66 original, if for no other reason than that the light, pushing up from the mud floor, touched out the eyebrows67 and lips and cheek-bones of the participants while it left great patches of shadow on their faces — so that they looked as if they had been half-eaten by the rats which one could hear scrambling68 among the rafters of this wretched tenement. It was a house of child prostitutes, and there in the dimness, clad in ludicrous biblical night-shirts, with rouged69 lips, arch bead70 fringes and cheap rings, stood a dozen fuzzy-haired girls who could not have been much above ten years of age; the peculiar71 innocence72 of childhood which shone out from under the fancy-dress was in startling contrast to the barbaric adult figure of the French sailor who stood in the centre of the room on flexed73 calves74, his ravaged75 and tormented76 face thrust out from the neck towards Justine who stood with her half-profile turned towards us. What he had just shouted had expired on the silence but the force with which the words had been uttered was still visible in the jut77 of the chin and the black corded muscles which held his head upon his shoulders. As for Justine, her face was lit by a sort of painful academic precision. She held a bottle raised in one hand, and it was clear that she had never thrown one before, for she held it the wrong way. On a rotting sofa in one corner of the room, magnetically lit by the warm shadow reflected from the walls, lay one of the children horribly shrunk up in its nightshirt in an attitude which suggested death. The wall above the sofa was covered in the blue imprints78 of juvenile80 hands — the talisman81 which in this part of the world guards a house against the evil eye. It was the only decoration in the room; indeed the commonest decoration of the whole Arab quarter of the city. We stood there, Nessim and I, for a good half-second, astonished by the scene which had a sort of horrifying82 beauty — like some hideous coloured engraving83 for a Victorian penny bible, say, whose subject matter had somehow become distorted and displaced. Justine was breathing harshly in a manner which suggested that she was on the point of tears. We pounced84 on her, I suppose, and dragged her out into the street; at any rate I can only remember the three of us reached the sea and driving the whole length of the Corniche in clean bronze moonlight, Nessim’s sad and silent face reflected in the driving-mirror, and the figure of his silent wife seated beside him, gazing out at the crashing silver waves and smoking the cigarette which she had burrowed85 from the pockets of his jacket. Later, in the garage, before we left the car, she kissed Nessim tenderly on the eyes.
***** All this I have come to regard as a sort of overture86 to that first real meeting face to face, when such understanding as we had enjoyed until then — a gaiety and friendship founded in tastes which were common to the three of us — disintegrated87 into something which was not love — how could it have been? — but into a sort of mental possession in which the bonds of a ravenous88 sexuality played the least part. How did we let it come about — matched as we were so well in experience, weathered and seasoned by the disappointments of love in other places? In autumn the female bays turn to uneasy phosphorus and after the long chafing89 days of dust one feels the first palpitations of the autumn, like the wings of a butterfly fluttering to unwrap themselves. Mareotis turns lemon-mauve and its muddy flanks are starred by sheets of radiant anemones90, growing through the quickened plaster-mud of the shore. One day while Nessim was away in Cairo I called at the house to borrow some books and to my surprise found Justine alone in the studio, darning an old pullover. She had taken the night train back to Alexandria, leaving Nessim to attend some business conference. We had tea together and then, on a sudden impulse took our bathing things and drove out through the rusty91 slag-heaps of Mex towards the sand-beaches off Bourg El Arab, glittering in the mauve-lemon light of the fast-fading afternoon. Here the open sea boomed upon the carpets of fresh sand the colour of oxidized mercury; its deep melodious92 percussion93 was the background to such conversation as we had. We walked ankle deep in the spurge of those shallow dimpled pools, choked here and there with sponges torn up by the roots and flung ashore94. We passed no one on the road I remember save a gaunt Bedouin youth carrying on his head a wire crate95 full of wild birds caught with lime-twigs. Dazed quail96. We lay for a long time, side by side in our wet bathing costumes to take the last pale rays of the sun upon our skins in the delicious evening coolness. I lay with half-shut eyes while Justine (how clearly I see her!) was up on one elbow, shading her eyes with the palm of one hand and watching my face. Whenever I was talking she had the habit of gazing at my lips with a curious half-mocking, an almost impertinent intentness, as if she were waiting for me to mispronounce a word. If indeed it all began at this point I have forgotten the context, but I remember the hoarse97 troubled voice saying something like: ‘And if it should happen to us — what would you say?’ But before I could say anything she leaned down and kissed me — I should say derisively98, antagonistically99, on the mouth. This seemed so much out of character that I turned with some sort of half-formulated reproach on my lips — but from here on her kisses were like tremendous soft breathless stabs punctuating100 the savage101 laughter which seemed to well up in her — a jeering102 unstable103 laughter. It struck me then that she was like someone who had had a bad fright. If I said now: ‘It must not happen to us’ she must have replied: ‘But let us suppose. What if it did?’ Then — and this I remember clearly — the mania104 for self-justification seized her (we spoke French: language creates national character) and between those breathless half-seconds when I felt her strong mouth on my own and those worldly brown arms closing upon mine: ‘I would not mistake it for gluttony or self-indulgence. We are too worldly for that: simply we have something to learn from each other. What is it?’ What was it? ‘And is this the way?’ I remember asking as I saw the tall toppling figure of Nessim upon the evening sky. ‘I do not know’ she said with a savage, obstinate105 desperate expression of humility106 upon her face, ‘I do not know’; and she pressed herself upon me like someone pressing upon a bruise107. It was as if she wished to expunge108 the very thought of me, and yet in the fragile quivering context of every kiss found a sort of painful surcease — like cold water on a sprain109. How well I recognized her now as a child of the city, which decrees that its women shall be the voluptuaries not of pleasure but of pain, doomed110 to hunt for what they least dare to find! She got up now and walked away down the long curving perspective of the beach, crossing the pools of lava111 slowly, her head bent112; and I thought of Nessim’s handsome face smiling at her from every mirror in the room. The whole of the scene which we had just enacted113 was invested in my mind’ with a dream-like improbability. It was curious in an objective sort of way to notice how my hands trembled as I lit a cigarette and rose to follow her. But when I overtook her and halted her the face she turned to me was that of a sick demon114. She was in a towering rage. ‘You thought I simply wanted to make love? God! haven’t we had enough of that? How is it that you do not know what I feel for once? How is it?’ She stamped her foot in the wet sand. It was not merely that a geological fault had opened in the ground upon which we had been treading with such self-confidence. It was as if some long-disused mineshaft in my own character had suddenly fallen in. I recognized that this barren traffic in ideas and feelings had driven a path through towards the denser115 jungles of the heart; and that here we became bondsmen in the body, possessors of an enigmatic knowledge which could only be passed on — received, deciphered, understood — by those rare complementaries of ours in the world. (How few they were, how seldom one found them!) ‘After all’ I remember her saying, ‘this has nothing to do with sex’ which tempted116 me to laugh though I recognized in the phrase her desperate attempt to dissociate the flesh from the message it carried. I suppose this sort of thing always happens to bankrupts when they fall in love. I saw then what I should have seen long before: namely that our friendship had ripened117 to a point when we had already become in a way part-owners of each other. I think we were both horrified118 by the thought; for exhausted119 as we were we could not help but quail before such a relationship. We did not say any more but walked back along the beach to where we had left our clothes, speechless and hand in hand. Justine looked utterly120 exhausted. We were both dying to get away from each other, in order to examine our own feelings. We did not speak to each other again. We drove into the city and she dropped me at the usual corner near my flat. I snapped the door of the car closed and she drove off without a word or a glance in my direction. As I opened the door of my room I could still see the imprint79 of Justine’s foot in the wet sand. Melissa was reading, and looking up at me she said with characteristic calm foreknowledge: ‘Something has happened — what is it?’ I could not tell her since I did not myself know. I took her face in my hands and examined it silently, with a care and attention, with a sadness and hunger I don’t ever remember feeling before. She said: ‘It is not me you are seeing, it is someone else.’ But in truth I was seeing Melissa for the first time. In some paradoxical way it was Justine who was now permitting me to see Melissa as she really was — and to recognize my love for her. Melissa smilingly reached for a cigarette and said: ‘You are falling in love with Justine’ and I answered as sincerely, as honestly, as painfully as I could: ‘No Melissa, it is worse than that’ — though I could not for the life of me have explained how or why. When I thought of Justine I thought of some great freehand composition, a cartoon of a woman representing someone released from bondage121 in the male. ‘Where the carrion122 is’ she once quoted proudly from Boehme, speaking of her native city, ‘there the eagles will gather.’ Truly she looked and seemed an eagle at this moment. But Melissa was a sad painting from a winter landscape contained by dark sky; a window-box with a few flowering geraniums lying forgotten on the windowsill of a cement-factory. There is a passage in one of Justine’s diaries which comes to mind here. I translate it here because though it must have referred to incidents long preceding those which I have recounted yet nevertheless it almost exactly expresses the curiously123 ingrown quality of a love which I have come to recognize as peculiar to the city rather than to ourselves. ‘Idle’ she writes ‘to imagine falling in love as a correspondence of minds, of thoughts; it is a simultaneous firing of two spirits engaged in the autonomous124 act of growing up. And the sensation is of something having noiselessly exploded inside each of them. Around this event, dazed and preoccupied125, the lover moves examining his or her own experience; her gratitude126 alone, stretching away towards a mistaken donor127, creates the illusion that she communicates with her fellow, but this is false. The loved object is simply one that has shared an experience at the same moment of time, narcissistically128; and the desire to be near the beloved object is at first not due to the idea of possessing it, but simply to let the two experiences compare themselves, like reflections in different mirrors. All this may precede the first look, kiss, or touch; precede ambition, pride or envy; precede the first declarations which mark the turning point — for from here love degenerates129 into habit, possession, and back to loneliness.’ How characteristic and how humourless a delineation130 of the magical gift: and yet how true … of Justine! ‘Every man’ she writes elsewhere, and here I can hear the hoarse and sorrowful accents of her voice repeating the words as she writes them: ‘Every man is made of clay and daimon, and no woman can nourish both.’ That afternoon she went home to find that Nessim had arrived by the afternoon plane. She complained of feeling feverish131 and went early to bed. When he came to sit by her side and take her temperature she said something which struck him as interesting enough to remember — for long afterwards he repeated it to me: ‘This is nothing of medical interest — a small chill. Diseases are not interested in those who want to die.’ And then with one of those characteristic swerves132 of association, like a swallow turning in mid-air she added, ‘Oh! Nessim, I have always been so strong. Has it prevented me from being truly loved?’
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1
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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emanates
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| v.从…处传出，传出( emanate的第三人称单数 )；产生，表现，显示 | |
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metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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founders
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| n.创始人( founder的名词复数 ) | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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reverberating
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| 回响，回荡( reverberate的现在分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
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muses
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的第三人称单数 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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metaphor
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| n.隐喻，暗喻 | |
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Mediterranean
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| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
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12
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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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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brokers
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| n.（股票、外币等）经纪人( broker的名词复数 )；中间人；代理商；（订合同的）中人v.做掮客（或中人等）( broker的第三人称单数 )；作为权力经纪人进行谈判；以中间人等身份安排… | |
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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symbolized
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| v.象征，作为…的象征( symbolize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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limbo
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| n.地狱的边缘；监狱 | |
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travesty
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| n.歪曲，嘲弄，滑稽化 | |
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ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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manifestation
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| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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deity
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| n.神，神性；被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
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hubris
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| n.傲慢，骄傲 | |
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expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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dictates
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| n.命令，规定，要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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sophistry
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| n.诡辩 | |
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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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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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ironic
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| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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42
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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43
perverted
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| adj.不正当的v.滥用( pervert的过去式和过去分词 )；腐蚀；败坏；使堕落 | |
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44
protean
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| adj.反复无常的；变化自如的 | |
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45
mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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46
jade
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| n.玉石；碧玉；翡翠 | |
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47
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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48
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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49
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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50
dawdled
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| v.混（时间）( dawdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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52
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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53
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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54
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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55
mosque
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| n.清真寺 | |
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56
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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tenement
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| n.公寓；房屋 | |
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58
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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59
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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60
concierge
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| n.管理员；门房 | |
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61
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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62
clouts
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| n.猛打( clout的名词复数 )；敲打；（尤指政治上的）影响；（用手或硬物的）击v.（尤指用手）猛击，重打( clout的第三人称单数 ) | |
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63
scaly
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| adj.鱼鳞状的；干燥粗糙的 | |
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64
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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65
intruded
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| n.侵入的，推进的v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的过去式和过去分词 )；把…强加于 | |
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ferociously
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| 野蛮地，残忍地 | |
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67
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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68
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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69
rouged
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| 胭脂，口红( rouge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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70
bead
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| n.念珠；(pl.)珠子项链；水珠 | |
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71
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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72
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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73
flexed
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| adj.[医]曲折的，屈曲v.屈曲( flex的过去式和过去分词 )；弯曲；（为准备大干而）显示实力；摩拳擦掌 | |
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74
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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ravaged
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| 毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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77
jut
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| v.突出；n.突出，突出物 | |
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78
imprints
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| n.压印( imprint的名词复数 )；痕迹；持久影响 | |
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79
imprint
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| n.印痕，痕迹；深刻的印象；vt.压印，牢记 | |
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juvenile
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| n.青少年，少年读物；adj.青少年的，幼稚的 | |
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talisman
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| n.避邪物，护身符 | |
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82
horrifying
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| a.令人震惊的，使人毛骨悚然的 | |
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engraving
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| n.版画；雕刻（作品）；雕刻艺术；镌版术v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的现在分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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84
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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85
burrowed
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| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的过去式和过去分词 )；翻寻 | |
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86
overture
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| n.前奏曲、序曲，提议，提案，初步交涉 | |
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disintegrated
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| v.（使）破裂[分裂，粉碎]，（使）崩溃( disintegrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ravenous
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| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
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chafing
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| n.皮肤发炎v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的现在分词 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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anemones
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| n.银莲花( anemone的名词复数 )；海葵 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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percussion
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| n.打击乐器；冲突，撞击；震动，音响 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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crate
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| vt.(up)把…装入箱中；n.板条箱，装货箱 | |
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96
quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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antagonistically
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| adv.敌对地，对抗性地 | |
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punctuating
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| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的现在分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
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101
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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102
jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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103
unstable
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| adj.不稳定的，易变的 | |
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104
mania
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| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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106
humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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107
bruise
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| n.青肿，挫伤；伤痕；vt.打青；挫伤 | |
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108
expunge
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| v.除去，删掉 | |
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109
sprain
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| n.扭伤,扭筋 | |
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110
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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111
lava
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| n.熔岩，火山岩 | |
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112
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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113
enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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115
denser
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| adj. 不易看透的, 密集的, 浓厚的, 愚钝的 | |
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116
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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117
ripened
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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118
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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119
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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120
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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121
bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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122
carrion
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| n.腐肉 | |
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123
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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124
autonomous
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| adj.自治的；独立的 | |
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125
preoccupied
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| 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) | |
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126
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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127
donor
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| n.捐献者；赠送人；(组织、器官等的)供体 | |
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128
narcissistically
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| adv.narcissistic（自我陶醉的；孤芳自赏的）的变形 | |
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129
degenerates
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| 衰退，堕落，退化( degenerate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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130
delineation
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| n.记述；描写 | |
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131
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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132
swerves
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| n.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的名词复数 )v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的第三人称单数 ) | |
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