Deep in the night they experienced the sensation, in their sleep, of being prodded1 at, as if by some persistent2 insect. Their souls turned and flicked3 out impatient hands, but the tormentor4 would not be driven off. They both awoke at the same instant. In the dark and empty hall, by itself, the telephone was shrilling5 fiercely, forlorn as an abandoned baby and even more peremptory6 to be quieted. They heard it ring once and did not stir, crystallizing their senses into annoyance7, defiance8 and acceptance of defeat. It rang again: at the same moment she exclaimed, “Jay! The children!” and he, grunting9, “Lie still,” swung his feet thumping10 to the floor. The phone rang again. He hurried out in the dark, barefooted, tiptoe, cursing under his breath. Hard as he tried to beat it, it rang again just as he got to it. He cut it off in the middle of its cry and listened with savage11 satisfaction to its death rattle12. Then he put the receiver to his ear.
“Yeah?” he said, forbiddingly. “Hello.”
“Is this the residence of, uh ...”
“Hello, who is it?”
“Is this the residence of Jay Follet?”
Another voice said, “That’s him, Central, let me talk to um, that’s ...” It was Ralph.
“Hello,” he said. “Ralph?”
“One moment please, your party is not connec ...”
“Hello, Jay?”
“Ralph? Yeah. Hello. What’s trouble?” For there was something wrong with his voice. Drunk, I reckon, he thought.
“Jay? Can you hear me all right? I said, ‘Can you hear me all right,’ Jay?”
Crying too, sounds like. “Sure, I can hear you. What’s the matter?” Paw, he thought suddenly. I bet it’s Paw; and he thought of his father and his mother and was filled with cold sad darkness.
“Hit’s Paw, Jay,” said Ralph, his voice going so rotten with tears that his brother pulled the receiver a little away, his mouth contracting with disgust. “I know I got no business aringin y’up this hour night but I know too you’d never a forgive me if ...”
“Quit it, Ralph,” he said sharply. “Cut that out and tell me about it.”
“Hit’s only my duty, Jay, God Almighty13 I ...”
“All right, Ralph,” he said, “I preciate your callin. Now tell me about Paw.”
“I just got back fer this, Jay, this minute, hurried home specially15 to ring you up ... Course I’m agoan right back, you ...”
“Listen, Ralph. Listen here. Can you hear me?” Ralph was silent. “Is he dead or alive?”
“Paw?”
Jay started to say, “Yeah, Paw,” in tight rage, but he heard Ralph begin again. He can’t help it, he thought, and waited.
“Why, naw, he ain’t dead,” Ralph said, deflated16. The darkness lifted considerably17 from Jay: coldly, he listened to Ralph whickering up his feelings again. Finally, his voice shaking satisfactorily, he said, “But O Lord God, hit looks like the end Jay!”
I should come up, huh?” He began to wonder whether Ralph was sober enough to be trusted; Ralph heard, and misunderstood the doubt in his voice.
His own voice became dignified18. “Course that’s entirely19 up to you, Jay. I know Paw n all of us would feel it was mighty14 strange if his oldest boy, the one he always thought the most of ...”
This new voice and this new tack20 bewildered Jay for a moment. Then he understood what Ralph was driving at, and had misunderstood, and assumed about him, and was glad that he was not where he could hit him. He cut in.
“Hold on, Ralph, you hold on there. If Paw’s that bad you know damn well I’m comin so don’t give me none a that ...” But he realized, with self-dislike, how unimportant it was to argue this matter with Ralph and said, “Listen here, Ralph, now don’t think I’m jumping on you, just listen. Do you hear me?” His feet and legs were getting chilly21. He warmed one foot beneath the other. “Hear me?”
“I can hear you, Jay.”
“Ralph, get it straight I’m not trying to jump on you, but sounds to me like you’ve had a few. Now ...”
“Now hold on. I don’t give a damn if you’re drunk or sober, far’s you’re concerned: point is this, Ralph. Anyone that’s drunk, I know it myself, they’re likely to exaggerate ...”
“You think I’m a lyin to you? You ...”
“Shut up, Ralph. Course you’re not. But if you’re drunk you can get an exaggerated idea how serious a thing is. Now you think a minute. Just think it over. And remember nobody’s goin to think bad of you if you change your mind, or for calling either. Just how sick is he really, Ralph?”
“Course if you don’t want to take my word for ...”
“Think, Goddamn it!” Ralph was silent. Jay changed his feet around. He suddenly realized how foolish he had been to try to get anything level-headed out of Ralph. “Listen, Ralph,” he said. “I know you wouldn’t a phoned if you didn’t think it was serious. Is Sally there?”
“Why yeah, she ...”
“Let me talk to her a minute, will you?”
“Why I just told you she’s out home.”
“Course Mother’s out there.”
“Why, Jay, she wouldn’t never leave his side. Mother ...”
“Doctor’s been out, of course.”
“He’s with him still. Was when I left.”
“What’s he say?”
Ralph hesitated. He did not want to spoil his story. “He says he has a chance, Jay.”
By the way Ralph said it, Jay suspected the doctor had said, a good chance.
He was at the edge of asking whether it was a good chance or just a chance when he was suddenly overcome by even more disgust for himself, for haggling22 about it, than for Ralph. Besides, his feet were so chilly they were beginning to itch23.
“Look here, Ralph,” he said, in a different voice. “I’m talking too much. I ...”
“Yeah, reckon our time must be about up, but what’s a few...”
“Listen here. I’m starting right on up. I ought to be there by—what time is it, do you know?”
“Hit’s two-thirty-seven, Jay. I knowed you’d ...”
“I ought to be there by daylight, Ralph, you tell Mother I’m coming right on up just quicks I can get there. Ralph. Is he conscious?”
“Awf an’ on, Jay. He’s been speakin yore name, Jay, hit like to break muh heart. He’ll sure thank his stars that his oldest boy, the one he always thought the most of, that you thought it was worth yer while to ...”
“Cut it out, Ralph. What the hell you think I am? If he gets conscious just let him know I’m comin’. And Ralph ...”
“Yeah?”
But now he did not want to say it. He said it anyway. “I know I got no room to talk, but—try not to drink so much that Mother will notice it. Drink some coffee fore24 you go back. Huh? Drink it black.”
“Sure, Jay, and don’t think I take offense25 so easy. I wouldn’t add a mite26 to her troubles, not at this time, not for this world, Jay. You know that. So Jay, I thank you. I thank you for calling it to my tention. I don’t take offense. I thank you, Jay. I thank you.”
“That’s all right, Ralph. Don’t mention it,” he added, feeling hypercritical and a little disgusted again. “Now I’ll be right along. So good-bye.”
“You tell Mary how it is, Jay. Don’t want her thinking bad of me, ringing ...”
“That’s all right. She’ll understand. Good-bye, Ralph.”
“I wouldn’t a rung you up, Jay if ...”
“That’s all right. Thanks for calling. Good-bye.”
Ralph’s voice was unsatisfied. “Well, good-bye,” he said.
Wants babying, Jay realized. Not appreciated enough. He listened. The line was still open. The hell I will, he thought, and hung up. Of all the crybabies, he thought, and went on back to the bedroom.
“Gracious sake,” said Mary, under her breath. “I thought he’d talk forever!”
“Oh, well,” Jay said, “reckon he can’t help it.” He sat on the bed and felt for his socks.
“It is your father, Jay?”
“Yup,” he said, pulling on one sock.
“Oh, you’re going up,” she said, suddenly realizing what he was doing. She put her hand on him. “Then it’s very grave, Jay,” she said very gently.
He fastened his garter and put his hand over hers. “Lord knows,” he said. “I can’t be sure enough of anything with Ralph, but I can’t afford to take the risk.”
“Of course not.” Her hand moved to pat him; his hand moved on hers. “Has the doctor seen him?” she asked cautiously.
“He says he has a chance, Ralph says.”
“That could mean so many things. It might be all right if you waited till morning. You might hear he was better, then. Not that I mean to ...”
Because, to his shame, he had done the same kinds of wondering himself, he was now exasperated27 afresh. The thought even flashed across his mind, That’s easy for you to say. He’s not your father, and besides you’ve always looked down at him. But he drove this thought so well away that he thought ill of himself for having believed it, and said, “Sweetheart, I’d rather wait and see what we hear in the morning, just as much as you would. It may all be a false alarm. I know Ralph goes off his trolley28 easy. But we just can’t afford to take that chance.”
“Of course not, Jay.” There was a loud stirring as she got from bed.
“What you up to?”
“Why, your breakfast,” she said, switching on the light. “Sakes alive!” she said, seeing the clock.
“Oh, Mary. Get on back to bed. I can pick up something downtown.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, hurrying into her bathrobe.
“Honest, it would be just as easy,” he said. He liked night lunchrooms, and had not been in one since Rufus was born. He was very faintly disappointed. But still more, he was warmed by the simplicity29 with which she got up for him, thoroughly30 awake.
“Why, Jay, that is out of the question!” she said, knotting the bathrobe girdle. She got into her slippers31 and shuffled32 quickly to the door. She looked back and said, in a stage whisper, “Bring your shoes—to the kitchen.”
He watched her disappear, wondering what in hell she meant by that, and was suddenly taken with a snort of silent amusement. She had looked so deadly serious, about the shoes. God, the ten thousand little things every day that a woman kept thinking of, on account of children. Hardly even thinking, he thought to himself, as he pulled on his other sock. Practically automatic. Like breathing.
And most of the time, he thought, as he stripped, they’re dead right. Course they’re so much in the habit of it (he stepped into his drawers) that sometimes they overdo34 it. But most of the time if you think even a second before you get annoyed (he buttoned his undershirt), there is good common sense behind it.
He shook out his trousers. His moment of reflection and light-heartedness was overtaken by shadow, and he felt a little foolish, for he couldn’t be sure there was anything to worry about yet, much less feel solemn about. That Ralph, he thought, hoisting35 the trousers and buttoning the top button. And he stood a moment looking at the window, polished with light, a deep blue-black beyond. The hour and the beauty of the night moved in him; he heard the flickering36 of the clock, and it sounded alien and mysterious as a rat in a wall. He felt a deep sense of solemn adventure, whether or not there was anything to feel solemn about. He sighed, and thought of his father as he could first remember him: beak-nosed, handsome, with a great, proud scowl37 of black mustache. He had known from away back that his father was sort of useless without ever meaning to be; the amount of burden he left to Jay’s mother used to drive him to fury, even when he was a boy. And yet he couldn’t get around it: he was so naturally gay and so deeply kind-hearted that you couldn’t help loving him. And he never meant her any harm. He meant so well. That thought used particularly to enrage38 Jay, and even now it occurred to him with a certain sourness. But now he reflected also: well, but damn it, he did. He may have traded on it, but he never tried to, never knew it gained him anything. He meant the best in the world. And for a moment as he looked at the window he had no mental image of his father nor any thought of him, nor did he hear the clock. He only saw the window, tenderly alight within, and the infinite dark leaning like water against its outer surface, and even the window was not a window, but only something extraordinarily39 vivid and senseless which for the moment occupied the universe. A sense of enormous distance stole over him, and changed into a moment of insupportable wonder and sadness.
Well, he thought: we’ve all got to go sometime.
Then life came back into focus.
Clean shirt, he thought.
He unbuttoned the top buttons of his trousers and spread his knees, squatting41 slightly, to hold them up. Fool thing to do, he reflected. Do it every time. (He tucked in the deep tails and settled them; the tails of this shirt were particularly long, and this always, for some reason, still made him feel particularly masculine.) If I put on the shirt first, wouldn’t have to do that fool squat40. (He finished buttoning his fly.) Well (he braced42 his right shoulder) there’s habit for you (he braced his left shoulder and slightly squatted43 again, readjusting).
He sat on the bed and reached for one shoe.
Oh.
Yup.
He took his shoes, a tie, a collar and collar buttons, and started from the room. He saw the rumpled44 bed. Well, he thought, I can do something for her. He put his things on the floor, smoothed the sheets, and punched the pillows. The sheets were still warm on her side. He drew the covers up to keep the warmth, then laid them open a few inches, so it would look inviting45 to get into. She’ll be glad of that, he thought, very well pleased with the looks of it. He gathered up his shoes, collar, tie and buttons, and made for the kitchen, taking special care as he passed the children’s door, which was slightly ajar.
She was just turning the eggs. “Ready in a second,” he told her, and dodged46 into the bathroom. Ought to get this upstairs, he reflected for perhaps the five hundredth time.
He thrust his chin at the mirror. Not so bad, he thought, and decided47 just to wash. Then he reflected: after all, why had he worn a clean shirt? He could hope to God not, all he liked, but the chances were this was going to be a very solemn occasion. I’d do it for a funeral, wouldn’t I? he reflected, annoyed at his laziness. He got out his razor and stropped it rapidly.
Mary heard this lavish48 noise of leather, and with a small spasm49 of impatience50 shoved the eggs to the back of the stove.
Ordinarily he took a good deal of time shaving, not because he enjoyed it (he loathed51 it) but because if it had to be done he wanted to do it well, and because he hated to cut himself. This time, because he was in a hurry, he gave a special cold glance at the lump of chin before he leaned forward and got to work. But to his surprise, everything worked like a charm; he even had less trouble than usual at the roots of his nostrils52, and with his chin, and there were no patches left. He felt so well gratified that he dabbed53 each cheekbone with lather54 and took off the little half-moons of fuzz. Still no complaints. He cleaned up the basin and flushed the lathery55, hairy bits of toilet paper down the water closet. Do I? he wondered, as the water closet gargled. Nope. He reached for the collar buttons.
When Mary came to the door he was flinging over and noosing56 the four-in-hand, his chin stretched and tilted57 as it always was during this operation, with the look of an impatient horse.
“Jay,” she said softly, a little quelled58 by this impatient look, “I don’t mean to hurry you, but things’ll get cold.”
“I’ll be right out.” He set the knot carefully above the button, glaring into his reflected eyes, made an unusually scrupulous59 part in his hair, and hurried to the kitchen table.
“Aw, darling!” There were the bacon and eggs and the coffee, all ready, and she was making pancakes as well.
“Well you got to eat, Jay. It’ll still be chilly for hours.” She spoke60 as if in a church or library, because of the sleeping children, unconsciously, because of the time of night.
“Sweetheart.” He caught her shoulders where she stood at the stove. She turned, her eyes hard with wakefulness, and smiled. He kissed her.
“Eat your eggs,” she said. “They’re getting cold.”
He sat down and started eating. She turned the pancakes. “How many can you eat?” she asked.
“Gee, I don’t know,” he said, getting the egg down (don’t talk with your mouth full) before he answered. He was not yet quite awake enough to be very hungry, but he was touched, and determined61 to eat a big breakfast. “Better hold it after the first two, three.”
She covered the Pancake to keep it hot and poured another.
He noticed that she had peppered the eggs more heavily than usual. “Good eggs,” he said.
She was pleased. Not more than half consciously, she had done this because within a few hours he would doubtless eat again, at home. For the same reason she had made the coffee unusually strong. And for the same reason she felt pleasure in standing62 at the stove while he ate, as mountain women did.
“Good coffee,” he said. “Now that’s more like it.” She turned the pancake. She supposed she really ought to make two pots always, one that she could stand to drink and one the way he liked it, new water and a few fresh grounds put in, without ever throwing out the old ones until the pot was choked full of old grounds. But she couldn’t stand it; she would as soon watch him drink so much sulfuric acid.
“Don’t you worry,” she smiled at him. “You won’t get any from me that’s all the way like it!”
He frowned at her.
“Come on sit down, sweetheart,” he said.
“In a minute ...”
“Come on. I imagine two are gonna be enough.”
“You think so?”
“If it won’t I’ll make the third one.” He took her hand and drew her towards her chair. “You’ll sit here.” She sat down. “How about you?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“I know what.” He got up and went to the icebox.
“What are you—oh. No, Jay. Well. Thanks.”
For before she could prevent him he had poured milk into a saucepan, and now that he put it on the stove she knew she would like it.
“Want some toast?”
“No, thank you, darling. The milk, just by itself, will be just perfect.”
He finished off the eggs. She got half out of her chair. He pressed down on her shoulder as he got up. He brought back the pancakes.
“They’ll be soggy by now. Let me ...” She started up again; again he put a hand on her shoulder. “You stay put,” he said in a mockery of sternness. “They’re fine. Couldn’t be better.”
He plastered on butter, poured on molasses, sliced the pancakes in parallels, gave them a twist with knife and fork and sliced them crosswise.
“There’s plenty more butter,” she said.
“Got a plenty,” he said, spearing four fragments of pancake and putting them in his mouth. “Thanks.” He chewed them up, swallowed them, and speared four more. “I bet your milk’s warm.” he said, putting down his fork.
But this time she was up before he could prevent her. “You eat,” she said. She poured the white, softly steaming milk into a thick white cup and sat down with it, warming both hands on the cup, and watching him eat. Because of the strangeness of the hour, and the abrupt63 destruction of sleep, the necessity for action and its interruptive minutiae64, the gravity of his errand, and a kind of weary exhilaration, both of them found it peculiarly hard to talk, though both particularly wanted to. He realized that she was watching him, and watched back, his eyes serious yet smiling, his jaws66 busy. He was glutted67, but he thought to himself, I’ll finish up those pancakes if it’s the last thing I do.
“Don’t stuff, Jay,” she said after a silence.
“Hm?”
“Don’t eat more than you’ve appetite for.”
He had thought his imitation of good appetite was successful. “Don’t worry,” he said, spearing some more.
There wasn’t much to finish. She looked at him tenderly when he glanced down to see, and said nothing more about it.
“Mnh,” he said, leaning back.
Now there was nothing to take their eyes from each other; and still, for some reason, they had nothing to say. They were not disturbed by this, but both felt almost the shyness of courtship. Each continued to look into the other’s tired eyes, and their tired eyes sparkled, but not with realizations68 which reached their hearts very distinctly.
“What would you like to do for your birthday?” he asked.
“Why, Jay.” She was taken very much by surprise. “Why you nice thing! Why—why ...”
“You think it over,” he said. “Whatever you’d like best—within reason, of course,” he joked. “I’ll see we manage it. The children, I mean.” They both remembered at the same time. He said, “That is, of course, if everything goes the way we hope it will, up home.”
“Of course, Jay.” Her eyes lost focus for a moment. “Let’s hope it will,” she said, in a peculiarly abstracted voice.
He watched her. That occasional loss of focus always mystified him and faintly disturbed him. Women, he guessed.
She came back into this world and again they looked at each other. Of course, in a way, they both reflected, there isn’t anything to say, or need for us to say it, anyhow.
He took a slow, deep breath and let it out as slowly.
“Well, Mary,” he said in his gentlest voice. He took her hand. They smiled very seriously, thinking of his father and of each other, and both knew in their hearts, as they had known in their minds, that there was no need to say anything.
They got up.
Now where—ahh,” he said in deep annoyance.
“Coat n vest,” he said, starting for the stairs.
“You wait,” she said, passing him swiftly. “Fraid you’d wake the children,” she whispered over her shoulder.
While she was gone he went into the sitting room, turned on one light, and picked up his pipe and tobacco. In the single quiet light in the enormous quietude of the night, all the little objects in the room looked golden brown and curiously69 gentle. He was touched, without knowing why.
Home.
He snapped off the light.
She was a little slow coming down; seeing if they’re covered, he thought. He stood by the stove, idly watching the flexions of the dark and light squares in the linoleum70. He was glad he’d gotten it down, at last. And Mary had been right. The plain black and white did look better than colors and fancy patterns.
He heard her on the stairs. Sure enough, first thing she said when she came in was, “You know, I was almost tempted71 to wake them. I suppose I’m silly but they’re so used to—I’m afraid they’re going to be very disappointed you didn’t tell them good-bye.”
“Good night! Really?” He hardly knew whether he was pleased or displeased72. Were they getting spoilt maybe?
“I may be mistaken, of course.”
“Be silly to wake em up. You might not get to sleep rest of the night.”
He buttoned his vest.
“I wouldn’t think of it, except: well” (she was reluctant to remind him), “if worst comes to worst, Jay, you might be gone longer than we hope.”
“That’s perfectly73 true,” he said, gravely. This whole sudden errand was so uncertain, so ambiguous that it was hard for either of them to hold a focused state of mind about it. He thought again of his father.
“You think praps I should?”
“Let me think.”
“N-no,” he said slowly; “I don’t reckon. No. You see, even, well even at the worst I’d be coming back to take you-all up. Funeral I mean. And these heart things, they’re generally decided pretty fast. Chances are very good, either way, I’ll be back tomorrow night. That’s tonight, I mean.”
“Yes, I see. Yes.”
“Tell you what. Tell them, don’t promise them or anything of course, but tell them I’m practicly sure to be back before they’re asleep. Tell them I’ll do my best.” He got into his coat.
“All right, Jay.”
“Yes. That’s sensible.” She reached so suddenly at his heart that by reflex he backed away; the eyes of both were startled and disturbed. With a frowning smile she teased him: “Don’t be frightened, little Timid Soul; it’s only a clean handkerchief and couldn’t possibly hurt you.”
“I’m sorry,” he laughed, “I just didn’t know what you were up to.” He pulled in his chin, frowning slightly, as he watched her take out the crumpled74 handkerchief and arrange the fresh one. Being fussed over embarrassed him; he was still more sharply embarrassed by the discreet75 white corner his wife took care to leave peeping from the pocket. His hand moved instinctively76; he caught himself in time and put his hand in his pocket.
“There. You look very nice,” she said, studying him earnestly, as if he were her son. He felt rather foolish, tender towards her innocence77 of this motherliness, and quite flattered. He felt for a moment rather vainly sure that he did indeed look very nice, to her anyhow, and that was all he cared about.
“Well,” he said, taking out his watch. “Good Lord a mercy!” He showed her. Three-forty-one. “I didn’t think it was hardly three.”
“Oh yes. It’s very late.”
“Well, no more dawdling78.” He put an arm around her shoulder and they walked to the back door. “All right, Mary. I hate to go, but—can’t be avoided.”
She opened the door and led him through, to the back porch. “You’ll catch cold,” he said. She shook her head. “No. It feels milder outside than in.”
They walked to the edge of the porch. The moistures of May drowned all save the most ardent79 stars, and gave back to the earth the sublimated80 light of the prostrate81 city. Deep in the end of the back yard, the blossoming peach tree shone like a celestial82 sentinel. The fecund83 air lavished84 upon their faces the tenderness of lovers’ adoring hands, the dissolving fragrance85 of the opened world, which slept against the sky.
“What a heavenly night, Jay,” she said in the voice which was dearest to him. “I almost wish I could come with you”—she remembered more clearly “—in whatever happens.”
“I wish you could, dear,” he said, though his mind had not been on such a possibility; frankly86, he had suddenly looked forward to the solitary87 drive. But now the peculiar65 quality of her voice reached him and he said, with love, “I wish you could.”
They stood bemused by the darkness.
“Well, Jay,” she said abruptly88, “I mustn’t keep you.”
He was silent a moment. “hope,” he said, a curious, weary sadness in his voice. “Time to go.”
He took her in his arms, leaning back to look at her. It was not really anything of a separation, yet he was surprised to find that it seemed to him a grave one, perhaps because his business was grave, or because of the solemn hour. He saw this in her face as well, and almost wished they had waked the children after all.
“Good-bye, Mary,” he said.
“Good-bye, Jay.”
They kissed, and her head settled for a moment against him. He stroked her hair. “I’ll let you know,” he said, “quick as I can, if it’s serious.”
“I pray it won’t be, Jay.”
“Well, we can only hope.” The moment of full tenderness between them was dissolved in their thought, but he continued gently to stroke the round back of her head.
“Give all my love to your mother. Tell her they’re both in my thoughts and wishes—constantly. And your father, of course, if he’s—well enough to talk to.”
“Sure, dear.”
“And take care of yourself.”
“Sure.”
He patted her back and they parted.
“Then I’ll hear from you—see you—very soon.”
“That’s right.”
“All right, Jay.” She squeezed his arm. He kissed her, just beneath the eye, and realized her disappointed lips; they smiled, and he kissed her heartily89 on the mouth. In a glimmer90 of gaiety, both were on the verge91 of parting with their customary morning farewell, she singing, “Good-bye John, don’t stay long,” he singing back, “I’ll be back in a week or two,” but both thought better of it.
“All right, dear. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye, my dear.”
He turned abruptly at the bottom of the steps. “Hey,” he whispered. “How’s your money?”
She thought rapidly. “All right, thank you.”
“Tell the children good-bye for me. Tell them I’ll see them tonight.”
“I better not promise that, had I?”
“No, but probably. And Mary: I hope I can make supper, but don’t wait it.”
“All right.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.” He walked back towards the bam. In the middle of the yard he turned and whispered loudly, “And you think it over about your birthday.”
“Thank you, Jay. All right. Thank you.”
She could hear him walking as quietly as possible on the cinders92. He silently lifted and set aside the bar of the door, and opened the door, taking care to be quiet. The first leaf squealed93; the second, which was usually worse, was perfectly still. Stepping to the left of the car, and assuming the serious position of stealth which the narrowness of the garage made necessary, he disappeared into the absolute darkness.
She knew he would try not to wake the neighbors and the children; and that it was impossible to start the auto33 quietly. She waited with sympathy and amusement, and with habituated dread94 of his fury and of the profanity she was sure would ensue, spoken or unspoken.
Uhgh—hy uh yu hy why uhy uh: wheek-uh-wheek-uh:
Ughh—hy wh yuh: wheek:
(now the nearly noiseless, desperate adjustments of spark and throttle95 and choke)
Ughgh—hyuh yuhyuh wheek yuh yuh wheek wheek wheek yuh yuhyuh: wheek:
(which she never understood and, from where she stayed now, could predict so well)
Ughgh—Ughgh—yuhyuhUgh wheek yuh yuh Ughgh yuh wheek wheek yuhyuh: wheek wheek: uh:
(like a hideous96, horribly constipated great brute97 of a beast: like a lunatic sobbing98: like a mouse being tortured):
Ughgh—Ughgh—Ughgh (Poor thing, he must be simply furious) Ughgh—wheek—Whughughyuh—Ughwheekyuhuughgyughyuhyuhy a a a a a a a h h h h h h R h R h R H R H R H (oh, stop it!) R H R H (a window went up) R H R H R H R H R H R yuhyhhRRHRHRHRHRHRHRHRHRHRH (the door smacked99 to in rage and triumph) RhRhRh - - - - - - - - (the window went down) RHRHRHRHRH (the machine backed out; crackling on the cinders). RHRH - - - - - (he wrenched100 it rudely but adroitly101 in a backward curve, almost to the chicken wire; from between the houses, light from the street caught its black side) rhrh - - - - (and swung as rudely round the corner of the barn and, by opposite turn, into the alley102, facing eastward103, where it stood) rhrh - - - - - - - - (obedient, conquered, malicious104 as a mule105, while he briefly106 reappeared, faced towards the house, saw her, waved one hand—she waved, but he did not see her—and drew the gate shut, disappearing beyond it) rhrhrhrhrhrhrhRHRHRHRHRHRHR
H
R
H
R
H
rh
rh
rh
rh
rh
rh
rh
rh
rh
rh
rh
rh
C utta wawwwwk:
Craaawwrk?
Chiquawkwawh.
Wrrawkuhkuhkuh.
Craarrawwk.
rwrwrk?
yrk.
rk:
She released a long breath, very slowly, and went into. the house.
There was her milk, untouched, forgotten, barely tepid107. She drank it down, without pleasure; all its whiteness, draining from the stringing wet whiteness of the empty cup, was singularly repugnant. She decided to leave things until morning, ran water over the dishes, and left them in the sink.
If the children had heard so much as a sound, they didn’t show it now. Catherine, as always, was absolutely drowned in sleep, and both of them, as always, were absolutely drowned.
Really, they are too big for that, she thought. Rufus certainly. She carefully readjusted their covers, against catching108 cold. They scarcely stirred.
I ought to ask a doctor.
She saw the freshened bed. Why, the dear, she thought, smiling, and got in. She was never to realize his intention of holding the warmth in for her; for that had sometime since departed from the bed.
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1
prodded
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| v.刺，戳( prod的过去式和过去分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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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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flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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tormentor
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| n. 使苦痛之人, 使苦恼之物, 侧幕 =tormenter | |
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shrilling
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| （声音）尖锐的，刺耳的，高频率的( shrill的现在分词 )； 凄厉 | |
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peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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grunting
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| 咕哝的，呼噜的 | |
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thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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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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12
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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13
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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deflated
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| adj. 灰心丧气的 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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19
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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20
tack
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| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
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21
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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22
haggling
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| v.讨价还价( haggle的现在分词 ) | |
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itch
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| n.痒，渴望，疥癣；vi.发痒，渴望 | |
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24
fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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25
offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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26
mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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27
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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28
trolley
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| n.手推车，台车；无轨电车；有轨电车 | |
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29
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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30
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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31
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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33
auto
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| n.(=automobile)(口语)汽车 | |
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overdo
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| vt.把...做得过头，演得过火 | |
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35
hoisting
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| 起重，提升 | |
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36
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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37
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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38
enrage
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| v.触怒，激怒 | |
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39
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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40
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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41
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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42
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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43
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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44
rumpled
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| v.弄皱，使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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46
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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47
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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48
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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49
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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50
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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51
loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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52
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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53
dabbed
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| （用某物）轻触( dab的过去式和过去分词 )； 轻而快地擦掉（或抹掉）； 快速擦拭； （用某物）轻而快地涂上（或点上）… | |
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54
lather
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| n.(肥皂水的)泡沫，激动 | |
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55
lathery
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| adj.肥皂泡的，充满泡沫的 | |
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56
noosing
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| v.绞索，套索( noose的现在分词 ) | |
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57
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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58
quelled
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| v.（用武力）制止，结束，镇压( quell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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60
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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61
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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62
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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63
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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64
minutiae
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| n.微小的细节，细枝末节；（常复数）细节，小事( minutia的名词复数 ) | |
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65
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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66
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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67
glutted
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| v.吃得过多( glut的过去式和过去分词 )；（对胃口、欲望等）纵情满足；使厌腻；塞满 | |
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68
realizations
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| 认识，领会( realization的名词复数 )； 实现 | |
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69
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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70
linoleum
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| n.油布，油毯 | |
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71
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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72
displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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73
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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74
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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75
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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76
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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77
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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78
dawdling
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| adj.闲逛的，懒散的v.混（时间）( dawdle的现在分词 ) | |
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79
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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80
sublimated
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| v.（使某物质）升华( sublimate的过去式和过去分词 )；使净化；纯化 | |
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81
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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82
celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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83
fecund
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| adj.多产的，丰饶的，肥沃的 | |
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84
lavished
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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86
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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87
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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88
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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89
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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90
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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91
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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92
cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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93
squealed
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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95
throttle
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| n.节流阀，节气阀，喉咙；v.扼喉咙，使窒息，压 | |
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96
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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97
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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98
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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99
smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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100
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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101
adroitly
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| adv.熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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102
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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103
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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104
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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105
mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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106
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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107
tepid
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| adj.微温的，温热的，不太热心的 | |
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108
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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