I found but one white figure under the dim veranda1 eaves. "Miss Camille?"
"Wh'--who is that?" responded a musical voice. "Why, is that Mr. Smith?" as if I were the last person in the world one should have expected to see there. The like of those moments I had never known. I saw her eyes note the perfect fit of my uniform, though neither of us mentioned it. I tried to tell her that Lieutenant2 Durand was Ned Ferry and that I was now one of his scouts3, but she had already heard both facts, and would not tell me what her father had said about me, it was so good. Standing4 at the veranda's edge a trifle above me, with her cheek against one of the posts and her gaze on her slipper5, she asked if I was glad I was going with Ned Ferry, and I had no more sense than to say I was; but she would neither say she was glad nor tell why she was not.
Through the open windows we could see the dancers. Now and then a pair of fanning promenaders came down the veranda, but on descrying6 us turned back. I said I was keeping her from the dance. To which she replied, drooping7 her head again, that she shouldn't dance that night.
"Too tired?"
"No."
"Too warm?"
"Oh, no, not too warm."
"Why, then?"
"Oh--I--just don't feel as if I could, that's all."
My heart beat wildly and I wanted to ask if it was on my account; but I was too pusillanimous8 a coward, and when I feebly tried to look into her eyes she would not let me, which convinced me that she lacked candor9. A dance ended. Gold-laced fellows came and sat on the veranda rail wiping wrists and brows with over-tasked handkerchiefs, and explaining the small mishaps10 of the floor. Two promenaders mentioned the hour. I gasped11 my amazement12 and extended my hand. "Good-bye."
"Wait a moment," she murmured, and watched the promenading13 pair turn back. Then she asked if I had read my mother's letter. I said I had. And then, very pensively14, with head bent15 and eyes once more down, she inquired if I liked to get letters. Which led, quite accidentally, to my asking leave to write to her.
She replied that she did not mean that. Nevertheless, I insisted, would she? She only bent lower still. I asked the third time; and with nothing but the parting of her hair for me to look at, she nodded, and one of her braids fell over in front, and I took the pink-ribboned live end of it timorously16 between thumb and finger and felt as if I had hold of an electric battery.
She backed half a step, and quite needlessly I let it go. Then she bade me not forget I had promised her the words of a certain song. "Want them? Indeed, yes! Did you not say it was an unpublished song written by a messmate of yours?--oh, Mr. Smith! I see why you stammer17! You said 'a member of your mess'! oh!--oh!--oh!--you wrote it, yourself! And you wrote it to-day! That explains--" She drew an awesome18 breath, rose to her toes and knit her knuckles19 under her throat.
I was in the sweetest consternation20. With the end of her braid once more in my fingers I made her promise to keep the dark secret, and so recited them.
"Maiden21 passing fair, turn away thine eyes! Turn away thine eyes ere my bosom22 burn,
Lit with foolish hope to hear thy fondling sighs, Like yon twilight23 dove's, breathe, Return, return!
Turn away thine eyes, maiden passing fair. O maiden passing fair, turn away thine eyes!
"Maiden passing fair, turn again thine eyes! Turn again thine eyes, love's true mercy learn.
Breathe, O! breathe to me, as these love-languid skies To yon twilight star breathe, Return, return!
Turn again thine eyes, maiden passing fair. O maiden passing fair, turn again thine eyes!"
"Mis-ter Smith! you wrote that?--to-day! Wh'--who is she?"
"One too modest," I murmured, "to know her own portrait." I clutched the braid emotionally and let it go intending to retake it; but she dropped it behind her and said I was too imaginative to be safe.
I stiffened24 proudly, turned and mounted my steed, but her eyes drew mine. I pressed close, bent over the saddle-bow, and said, "Good-bye, Camille."
"Good-bye." I could barely hear it.
"Oh!--good-bye, just anybody?" I asked; and thereupon she gathered up all her misplaced trust in me, all her maiden ignorance of what is in man, and all her sweet daring, to murmur--
"Good-bye,--Dick."
I caught my breath in rapture25 and rode away. She was there yet when I looked back--once--and again--and again. And when I looked a last time still she had not moved. Oh, Camille, Camille! to this day I see you standing there in pink-edged white, pure, silent, motionless, a summer-evening cloud; while I, my body clad in its unstained--only because unused--new uniform, and my soul tricked out in the foolhardiness and vanity of a boy's innocence26, rode forth27 into the night and into the talons28 of overmastering temptation.
点击收听单词发音
1 veranda | |
n.走廊;阳台 | |
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2 lieutenant | |
n.陆军中尉,海军上尉;代理官员,副职官员 | |
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3 scouts | |
侦察员[机,舰]( scout的名词复数 ); 童子军; 搜索; 童子军成员 | |
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4 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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5 slipper | |
n.拖鞋 | |
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6 descrying | |
v.被看到的,被发现的,被注意到的( descried的过去分词 ) | |
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7 drooping | |
adj. 下垂的,无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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8 pusillanimous | |
adj.懦弱的,胆怯的 | |
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9 candor | |
n.坦白,率真 | |
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10 mishaps | |
n.轻微的事故,小的意外( mishap的名词复数 ) | |
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11 gasped | |
v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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12 amazement | |
n.惊奇,惊讶 | |
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13 promenading | |
v.兜风( promenade的现在分词 ) | |
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14 pensively | |
adv.沉思地,焦虑地 | |
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15 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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16 timorously | |
adv.胆怯地,羞怯地 | |
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17 stammer | |
n.结巴,口吃;v.结结巴巴地说 | |
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18 awesome | |
adj.令人惊叹的,难得吓人的,很好的 | |
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19 knuckles | |
n.(指人)指关节( knuckle的名词复数 );(指动物)膝关节,踝v.(指人)指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 );(指动物)膝关节,踝 | |
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20 consternation | |
n.大为吃惊,惊骇 | |
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21 maiden | |
n.少女,处女;adj.未婚的,纯洁的,无经验的 | |
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22 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
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23 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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24 stiffened | |
加强的 | |
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25 rapture | |
n.狂喜;全神贯注;着迷;v.使狂喜 | |
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26 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
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27 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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28 talons | |
n.(尤指猛禽的)爪( talon的名词复数 );(如爪般的)手指;爪状物;锁簧尖状突出部 | |
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