It may have been that her eyes were called to the passer-by just as his had been, without warning or volition2. In any event their eyes met full, leisurely3 in that stirring silence before the consciousness of self, time, place and convention rushes in. ... Though she seemed very poor, there was something about her beyond reach in nobility. He was left with the impression of the whitest skin, the blackest hair and the reddest lips, but mainly of a gray-eyed girl—eyes that had become wider and wider, and had filled with sudden amazement4 (doubtless at her own answering look) before they turned away.
Desolation was abroad in Warsaw after this encounter. Mowbray thought of New York with loneliness, the zest5 gone from all present activity. Presently with curious grip his thoughts returned to a certain luncheon6 in New York with a tired literary man who had talked about women with the air of a connoisseur7. The pith of the writer's observations was restored to his mind in this form:
“If I were to marry again it would be to a Latin woman—French, Italian, even Spanish—a close-to-nature woman born and bred in one of the Mediterranean8 countries. Not a blue-blood, for that has to do with decadence9, but a woman of the people. They are passionate10 but pure, as Poe would say. If they find a man of any value, he becomes their world. They are strong natural mothers—mothering their children and their husband, too,—and immune to common sicknesses. Given a little food, they know enough to prepare it with art. If a man has a bit of a dream left, such a woman will either make him forget it painlessly, or she will make it come true.”
There was no apparent relation, and none that proved afterward11. What he had seen at the corner of Palace Square nearest the Vistula was not the face of a Latin woman, nor was any looseness of common birth evident in it. The key might have had to do with the little hat she wore, just a hat for wearing on the head, a protection against sun and rain, and with the austerely12 simple black dress; but these weathered exteriors13 again were effective in contrast to the vivid freshness of her natural coloring. As for what remained of the literary man's picture of the ideal woman to marry, it was the last word of decadence—the eminent14 selfishness of a man willing to accept the luxury of a woman who asks little to be happy. ... The next day at the same time and place Mowbray was there, and saw her coming from afar.
She seemed both afraid and angry, stopped abruptly15 and asked in Polish what he wanted. He was startled. It was a hard moment. He explained with difficulty that her language was as yet an inconvenient16 vehicle for him.
“You are not Russian?” she said in French.
He shook his head. She seemed to be relieved and he wondered why.
“It did not occur to me you would notice,” he said in the language she had ventured. “I saw you yesterday. You made me think of New York. As I was near to-day, I hoped to see you again—-”
“Yes,—you speak English, too?”
“I like it. It is—-” she checked herself and asked with just a shade of coldness, “Is there anything I can do for you?”
It might be construed20 as a courtesy to a stranger from one who lived in Warsaw. Peter liked it, a certain vista21 opening. However, there was no answer within reach except the truth, and he plunged22:
“I should like to know you better.”
The red lower lip disappeared beneath the other. Her gray eyes grew very wide; something intrepid23 and exquisite24 in her manner as she searched his face. Whatever she knew of the world, she dared still to trust her intuition—this was something of the revelation he drew.
“Why?”
Many people were passing. He looked toward the quieter center of the Square.
“Will you walk with me there?” he asked. “It is not easy to explain this sort of thing—-”
“No. I must go on. You may walk a little way.”
“You are very good.... You see, I cannot tell just why—as you asked. If I knew you well, I could tell you. Yesterday I was quite unromantic—-”
She made it hard for him and did not let him see her smile. “You mean you are romantic to-day?”
Peter laughed. “What a trap—and I was trying so hard to tell you.”
“You were trying—-”
“I don't need to tell you. All there is to say is that I want you to be my friend.”
“I should have to think,” she answered.
“Of course. ... Do you pass here every day?”
“I should have to think,” she said.
It was the third day afterward that she passed again.
点击收听单词发音
1 appraises | |
v.估价( appraise的第三人称单数 );估计;估量;评价 | |
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2 volition | |
n.意志;决意 | |
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3 leisurely | |
adj.悠闲的;从容的,慢慢的 | |
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4 amazement | |
n.惊奇,惊讶 | |
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5 zest | |
n.乐趣;滋味,风味;兴趣 | |
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6 luncheon | |
n.午宴,午餐,便宴 | |
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7 connoisseur | |
n.鉴赏家,行家,内行 | |
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8 Mediterranean | |
adj.地中海的;地中海沿岸的 | |
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9 decadence | |
n.衰落,颓废 | |
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10 passionate | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,激昂的,易动情的,易怒的,性情暴躁的 | |
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11 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
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12 austerely | |
adv.严格地,朴质地 | |
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13 exteriors | |
n.外面( exterior的名词复数 );外貌;户外景色图 | |
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14 eminent | |
adj.显赫的,杰出的,有名的,优良的 | |
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15 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
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16 inconvenient | |
adj.不方便的,令人感到麻烦的 | |
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17 asperity | |
n.粗鲁,艰苦 | |
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18 spoke | |
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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19 intonation | |
n.语调,声调;发声 | |
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20 construed | |
v.解释(陈述、行为等)( construe的过去式和过去分词 );翻译,作句法分析 | |
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21 vista | |
n.远景,深景,展望,回想 | |
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22 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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23 intrepid | |
adj.无畏的,刚毅的 | |
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24 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
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