The Gilders, both father and son, endured much sufferingthroughout the night and day that followed the scene in MaryTurner's apartment, when she had made known the accomplishment2 ofher revenge on the older man by her ensnaring of the younger.
Dick had followed the others out of her presence at her command,emphasized by her leaving him alone when he would have pleadedfurther with her. Since then, he had striven to obtain anotherinterview with his bride, but she had refused him. He was deniedadmission to the apartment. Only the maid answered the ringingof the telephone, and his notes were seemingly unheeded.
Distraught by this violent interjection of torment3 into a lifethat hitherto had known no important suffering, Dick Gildershowed what mettle4 of man lay beneath his debonair5 appearance.
And that mettle was of a kind worth while. In these hours ofgrief, the soul of him put out its strength. He learned beyondperadventure of doubt that the woman whom he had married was intruth an ex-convict, even as Burke and Demarest had declared.
Nevertheless, he did not for an instant believe that she wasguilty of the crime with which she had been originally chargedand for which she had served a sentence in prison. For the rest,he could understand in some degree how the venom6 of the wronginflicted on her had poisoned her nature through the years, tillshe had worked out its evil through the scheme of which he wasthe innocent victim. He cared little for the fact that recentlyshe had devoted7 herself to devious8 devices for making money, toingenious schemes for legal plunder9. In his summing of her, heset as more than an offset10 to her unrighteousness in this regardthe desperate struggle she had made after leaving prison to keepstraight, which, as he learned, had ended in her attempt atsuicide. He knew the intelligence of this woman whom he loved,and in his heart was no thought of her faults as vital flaws. Itseemed to him rather that circumstances had compelled her, andthat through all the suffering of her life she had retained themore beautiful qualities of her womanliness, for which hereverenced her. In the closeness of their association, short asit had been, he had learned to know something of the tendererdepths within her, the kindliness12 of her, the wholesomeness13.
Swayed as he was by the loveliness of her, he was yet moreenthralled by those inner qualities of which the outer beauty wasonly the fitting symbol.
So, in the face of this catastrophe14, where a less love must havebeen destroyed utterly15, Dick remained loyal. His passionateregard did not falter16 for a moment. It never even occurred tohim that he might cast her off, might yield to his father'sprayers, and abandon her. On the contrary, his only purpose wasto gain her for himself, to cherish and guard her against everyill, to protect with his love from every attack of shame orinjury. He would not believe that the girl did not care for him.
Whatever had been her first purpose of using him only as aninstrument through which to strike against his father, whatevermight be her present plan of eliminating him from her life in thefuture, he still was sure that she had grown to know a real andlasting affection for himself. He remembered startled glancesfrom the violet eyes, caught unawares, and the music of her voicein rare instants, and these told him that love for him stirred,even though it might as yet be but faintly, in her heart.
Out of that fact, he drew an immediate17 comfort in this period ofhis misery18. Nevertheless, his anguish19 was a racking one. Hegrew older visibly in the night and the day. There creptsuddenly lines of new feeling into his face, and, too, lines ofnew strength. The boy died in that time; the man was born, cameforth in the full of his steadfastness21 and his courage, and hislove.
The father suffered with the son. He was a proud man, intenselygratified over the commanding position to which he had achievedin the commercial world, proud of his business integrity, of hisstanding in the community as a leader, proud of his socialposition, proud most of all of the son whom he so loved. Now,this hideous23 disaster threatened his pride at every turn--worse,it threatened the one person in the world whom he really loved.
Most fathers would have stormed at the boy when pleading failed,would have given commands with harshness, would have menaced therecalcitrant with disinheritance. Edward Gilder1 did none ofthese things, though his heart was sorely wounded. He loved hisson too much to contemplate24 making more evil for the lad by anyestrangement between them. Yet he felt that the matter could notsafely be left in the hands of Dick himself. He realized thathis son loved the woman--nor could he wonder much at that. Hiskeen eyes had perceived Mary Turner's graces of form, herloveliness of face. He had apprehended25, too, in some measure atleast, the fineness of her mental fiber26 and the capacities of herheart. Deep within him, denied any outlet27, he knew there lurkeda curious, subtle sympathy for the girl in her scheme of revengeagainst himself. Her persistent28 striving toward the object ofher ambition was something he could understand, since the likething in different guise29 had been back of his own businesssuccess. He would not let the idea rise to the surface ofconsciousness, for he still refused to believe that Mary Turnerhad suffered at his hand unjustly. He would think of her asnothing else than a vile30 creature, who had caught his son in thetoils of her beauty and charm, for the purpose of eventuallymaking money out of the intrigue31.
Gilder, in his library this night, was pacing impatiently to andfro, eagerly listening for the sound of his son's return to thehouse. He had been the guest of honor that night at an importantmeeting of the Civic32 Committee, and he had spoken with his usualclarity and earnestness in spite of the trouble that beset34 him.
Now, however, the regeneration of the city was far from histhought, and his sole concern was with the regeneration of alife, that of his son, which bade fair to be ruined by the wilesof a wicked woman. He was anxious for the coming of Dick, towhom he would make one more appeal. If that should fail--well,he must use the influences at his command to secure the forcibleparting of the adventuress from his son.
The room in which he paced to and fro was of a solid dignity,well fitted to serve as an environment for its owner. It wasvery large, and lofty. There was massiveness in the desk thatstood opposite the hall door, near a window. This particularwindow itself was huge, high, jutting35 in octagonal, with leadedpanes. In addition, there was a great fireplace set with tiles,around which was woodwork elaborately carved, the fruit ofpatient questing abroad. On the walls were hung some pieces oftapestry, where there were not bookcases. Over the octagonalwindow, too, such draperies fell in stately lines. Now, as themagnate paced back and forth20, there was only a gentle light inthe room, from a reading-lamp on his desk. The huge chandelierwas unlighted.... It was even as Gilder, in an increasingirritation over the delay, had thrown himself down on a couchwhich stood just a little way within an alcove36, that he heard theouter door open and shut. He sprang up with an ejaculation ofsatisfaction.
"Dick, at last!" he muttered.
It was, in truth, the son. A moment later, he entered the room,and went at once to his father, who was standing22 waiting, facingthe door.
"I'm awfully37 sorry I'm so late, Dad," he said simply.
"Where have you been?" the father demanded gravely. But therewas great affection in the flash of his gray eyes as he scannedthe young man's face, and the touch of the hand that he put onDick's shoulder was very tender. "With that woman again?"The boy's voice was disconsolate38 as he replied:
"No, father, not with her. She won't see me."The older man snorted a wrathful appreciation39.
"Naturally!" he exclaimed with exceeding bitterness in the heavyvoice. "She's got all she wanted from you --my name!" Herepeated the words with a grimace40 of exasperation41: "My name!"There was a novel dignity in the son's tone as he spoke33.
"It's mine, too, you know, sir," he said quietly.
The father was impressed of a sudden with the fact that, whilethis affair was of supreme42 import to himself, it was, after all,of still greater significance to his son. To himself, the chiefconcerns were of the worldly kind. To this boy, the vital thingwas something deeper, something of the heart: for, however absurdhis feeling, the truth remained that he loved the woman. Yes, itwas the son's name that Mary Turner had taken, as well as that ofhis father. In the case of the son, she had taken not only hisname, but his very life. Yes, it was, indeed, Dick's tragedy.
Whatever he, the father, might feel, the son was, after all, moreaffected. He must suffer more, must lose more, must pay morewith happiness for his folly43.
Gilder looked at his son with a strange, new respect, but hecould not let the situation go without protest, protest of themost vehement44.
"Dick," he cried, and his big voice was shaken a little by theforce of his emotion; "boy, you are all I have in the world. Youwill have to free yourself from this woman somehow." He stoodvery erect45, staring steadfastly46 out of his clear gray eyes intothose of his son. His heavy face was rigid47 with feeling; thecoarse mouth bent48 slightly in a smile of troubled fondness, as headded more softly: "You owe me that much."The son's eyes met his father's freely. There was respect inthem, and affection, but there was something else, too, somethingthe older man recognized as beyond his control. He spokegravely, with a deliberate conviction.
"I owe something to her, too, Dad."But Gilder would not let the statement go unchallenged. His heavyvoice rang out rebukingly49, overtoned with protest.
"What can you owe her?" he demanded indignantly. "She trickedyou into the marriage. Why, legally, it's not even that.
There's been nothing more than a wedding ceremony. The courtshold that that is only a part of the marriage actually. The factthat she doesn't receive you makes it simpler, too. It can bearranged. We must get you out of the scrape."He turned and went to the desk, as if to sit, but he was haltedby his son's answer, given very gently, yet with a note offinality that to the father's ear rang like the crack of doom50.
"I'm not sure that I want to get out of it, father."That was all, but those plain words summed the situation, madethe issue a matter not of advice, but of the heart.
Gilder persisted, however, in trying to evade51 the integral factof his son's feeling. Still he tried to fix the issue on theknown unsavory reputation of the woman.
"You want to stay married to this jail-bird!" he stormed.
A gust52 of fury swept the boy. He loved the woman, in spite ofall; he respected her, even reverenced11 her. To hear her thusnamed moved him to a rage almost beyond his control. But hemastered himself. He remembered that the man who spoke lovedhim; he remembered, too, that the word of opprobrium53 was no morethan the truth, however offensive it might be to hissensitiveness. He waited a moment until he could hold his voiceeven. Then his words were the sternest protest that could havebeen uttered, though they came from no exercise of thought, onlyout of the deeps of his heart.
"I'm very fond of her."That was all. But the simple sincerity54 of the saying griped thefather's mood, as no argument could have done. There was alittle silence. After all, what could meet such loving loyalty55?
When at last he spoke, Gilder's voice was subdued56, a littlehusky.
"Now, that you know?" he questioned.
There was no faltering57 in the answer.
"Now, that I know," Dick said distinctly. Then abruptly58, theyoung man spoke with the energy of perfect faith in the woman.
"Don't you see, father? Why, she is justified59 in a way, in herown mind anyhow, I mean. She was innocent when she was sent toprison. She feels that the world owes her----"But the older man would not permit the assertion to gouncontradicted. That reference to the woman's innocence60 was anarraignment of himself, for it had been he who sent her to theterm of imprisonment61.
"Don't talk to me about her innocence!" he said, and his voicewas ominous62. "I suppose next you will argue that, because she'sbeen clever enough to keep within the law, since she's got out ofState Prison, she's not a criminal. But let me tell you--crimeis crime, whether the law touches it in the particular case, orwhether it doesn't."Gilder faced his son sternly for a moment, and then presentlyspoke again with deeper earnestness.
"There's only one course open to you, my boy. You must give thisgirl up."The son met his father's gaze with a level look in which therewas no weakness.
"I've told you, Dad----" he began.
"You must, I tell you," the father insisted. Then he went onquickly, with a tone of utmost positiveness. "If you don't, whatare you going to do the day your wife is thrown into a patrolwagon and carried to Police Headquarters--for it's sure tohappen? The cleverest of people make mistakes, and some dayshe'll make one."Dick threw out his hands in a gesture of supreme denial. He wasfurious at this supposition that she would continue in herirregular practices.
But the father went on remorselessly.
"They will stand her up where the detectives will walk past herwith masks on their faces. Her picture, of course, is already inthe Rogues63' Gallery, but they will take another. Yes, and theimprints of her fingers, and the measurements of her body."The son was writhing64 under the words. The woman of whom thesethings were said was the woman whom he loved. It was blasphemyto think of her in such case, subjected to the degradation65 ofthese processes. Yet, every word had in it the piercing, horriblesting of truth. His face whitened. He raised a supplicatinghand.
"Father!""That's what they will do to your wife," Gilder went on harshly;"to the woman who bears your name and mine." There was a littlepause, and the father stood rigid, menacing. The final questioncame rasping. "What are you going to do about it?"Dick went forward until he was close to his father. Then he spokewith profound conviction.
"It will never happen. She will go straight, Dad. That I know.
You would know it if you only knew her as I do."Gilder once again put his hand tenderly on his son's shoulder.
His voice was modulated66 to an unaccustomed mildness as he spoke.
"Be sensible, boy," he pleaded softly. "Be sensible!"Dick dropped down on the couch, and made his answer very gently,his eyes unseeing as he dwelt on the things he knew of the womanhe loved.
"Why, Dad," he said, "she is young. She's just like a child in ahundred ways. She loves the trees and the grass and theflowers--and everything that's simple and real! And as for herheart--" His voice was low and very tender: "Why, her heart isthe biggest I've ever known. It's just overflowing67 withsweetness and kindness. I've seen her pick up a baby that hadfallen in the street, and mother it in a way that--well, no onecould do it as she did it, unless her soul was clean."The father was silent, a little awed68. He made an effort to shakeoff the feeling, and spoke with a sneer69.
"You heard what she said yesterday, and you still are such a foolas to think that."The answer of the son came with an immutable70 finality, thesublime faith of love.
"I don't think--I know!"Gilder was in despair. What argument could avail him? He criedout sharply in desperation.
"Do you realize what you're doing? Don't go to smash, Dick, justat the beginning of your life. Oh, I beg you, boy, stop! Putthis girl out of your thoughts and start fresh."The reply was of the simplest, and it was the end of argument.
"Father," Dick said, very gently, "I can't."There followed a little period of quiet between the two. Thefather, from his desk, stood facing his son, who thus denied himin all honesty because the heart so commanded. The son restedmotionless and looked with unflinching eyes into his father'sface. In the gaze of each was a great affection.
"You're all I have, my boy," the older man said at last. And nowthe big voice was a mildest whisper of love.
"Yes, Dad," came the answer--another whisper, since it is hard tovoice the truth of feeling such as this. "If I could avoid it, Iwouldn't hurt you for anything in the world. I'm sorry, Dad,awfully sorry----" He hesitated, then his voice rang out clearly.
There was in his tone, when he spoke again, a recognition of thatloneliness which is the curse and the crown of being:
"But," he ended, "I must fight this out by myself--fight it outin my own way.... And I'm going to do it!"
收听单词发音 |
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gilder
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| 镀金工人 | |
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accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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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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mettle
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| n.勇气，精神 | |
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debonair
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| adj.殷勤的，快乐的 | |
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venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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offset
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| n.分支，补偿；v.抵消，补偿 | |
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reverenced
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| v.尊敬，崇敬( reverence的过去式和过去分词 )；敬礼 | |
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kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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wholesomeness
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| 卫生性 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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falter
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| vi.(嗓音)颤抖，结巴地说；犹豫；蹒跚 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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steadfastness
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| n.坚定，稳当 | |
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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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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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apprehended
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| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 )； 理解 | |
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fiber
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| n.纤维，纤维质 | |
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outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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intrigue
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| vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋 | |
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civic
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| adj.城市的，都市的，市民的，公民的 | |
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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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beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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jutting
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| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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disconsolate
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| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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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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steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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rebukingly
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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evade
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| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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opprobrium
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| n.耻辱，责难 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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rogues
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| n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 )；无赖；调皮捣蛋的人；离群的野兽 | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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modulated
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| 已调整[制]的，被调的 | |
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67
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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68
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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70
immutable
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| adj.不可改变的，永恒的 | |
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