‘I told your servant he need not trouble to show me in,—and I’ve come without my aunt. I hope I’m not intruding2.’
She was—confoundedly; and it was on the tip of my tongue to tell her so. She came into the room, with twinkling eyes, looking radiantly happy,—that sort of look which makes even a plain young woman prepossessing.
‘Am I intruding?—I believe I am.’
She held out her hand, while she was still a dozen feet away, and when I did not at once dash forward to make a clutch at it, she shook her head and made a little mouth at me.
‘What’s the matter with you?—Aren’t you well?’
I was not well,—I was very far from well. I was as unwell as I could be without being positively4 ill, and any person of common discernment would have perceived it at a glance. At the same time I was not going to admit anything of the kind to her.
‘Then, if I were you, I would endeavour to become imperfectly well; a little imperfection in that direction might make you appear to more advantage.’
‘I am afraid that that I am not one of those persons who ever do appear to much advantage,—did I not tell you so last night?’
‘I believe you did say something of the kind,—it’s very good of you to remember. Have you forgotten something else which you said to me last night?’
‘You can hardly expect me to keep fresh in my memory all the follies6 of which my tongue is guilty.’
‘Thank you.—That is quite enough.—Good-day.’
She turned as if to go.
‘Miss Grayling!’
‘Mr Atherton?’
‘What’s the matter?—What have I been saying now?’
‘Last night you invited me to come and see you this morning,—is that one of the follies of which your tongue was guilty?’
The engagement had escaped my recollection—it is a fact!—and my face betrayed me.
‘You had forgotten?’ Her cheeks flamed; her eyes sparkled. ‘You must pardon my stupidity for not having understood that the invitation was of that general kind which is never meant to be acted on.’
She was half way to the door before I stopped her,—I had to take her by the shoulder to do it.
‘Miss Grayling!—You are hard on me.’
‘I suppose I am.—Is anything harder than to be intruded7 on by an undesired, and unexpected, guest?’
‘Now you are harder still.—If you knew what I have gone through since our conversation of last night, in your strength you would be merciful.’
‘Indeed?—What have you gone through?’
I hesitated. What I actually had gone through I certainly did not propose to tell her. Other reasons apart I did not desire to seem madder than I admittedly am,—and I lacked sufficient plausibility8 to enable me to concoct9, on the spur of the moment, a plain tale of the doings of my midnight visitor which would have suggested that the narrator was perfectly sane10. So I fenced,—or tried to.
‘For one thing,—I have had no sleep.’
I had not,—not one single wink3. When I did get between the sheets, ‘all night I lay in agony,’ I suffered from that worst form of nightmare,—the nightmare of the man who is wide awake. There was continually before my fevered eyes the strange figure of that Nameless Thing. I had often smiled at tales of haunted folk,—here was I one of them. My feelings were not rendered more agreeable by a strengthening conviction that if I had only retained the normal attitude of a scientific observer I should, in all probability, have solved the mystery of my oriental friend, and that his example of the genus of copridae might have been pinned,—by a very large pin!—on a piece—a monstrous11 piece!—of cork12. It was galling13 to reflect that he and I had played together a game of bluff,—a game at which civilisation14 was once more proved to be a failure.
‘You do look tired.’ She seemed to be casting about in her own mind for a cause. ‘You have been worrying.’ She glanced round the big laboratory. ‘Have you been spending the night in this—wizard’s cave?’
‘Pretty well’
‘Oh!’
The monosyllable, as she uttered it, was big with meaning. Uninvited, she seated herself in an arm-chair, a huge old thing, of shagreen leather, which would have held half a dozen of her. Demure16 in it she looked, like an agreeable reminiscence, alive, and a little up-to-date, of the women of long ago. Her dove grey eyes seemed to perceive so much more than they cared to show.
‘How is it that you have forgotten that you asked me to come?—didn’t you mean it?’
‘Of course I meant it.’
‘Then how is it you’ve forgotten?’
‘I didn’t forget.’
‘Don’t tell fibs.—Something is the matter,—tell me what it is.—Is it that I am too early?’
‘Nothing of the sort,—you couldn’t be too early.’
‘Thank you.—When you pay a compliment, even so neat an one as that, sometimes, you should look as if you meant it.—It is early,—I know it’s early, but afterwards I want you to come to lunch. I told aunt that I would bring you back with me.’
‘You are much better to me than I deserve.’
‘Perhaps.’ A tone came into her voice which was almost pathetic. ‘I think that to some men women are almost better than they deserve. I don’t know why. I suppose it pleases them. It is odd.’ There was a different intonation,—a dryness. ‘Have you forgotten what I came for?’
‘Not a bit of it,—I am not quite the brute17 I seem. You came to see an illustration of that pleasant little fancy of mine for slaughtering18 my fellows. The fact is, I’m hardly in a mood for that just now,—I’ve been illustrating19 it too much already.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, for one thing it’s been murdering Lessingham’s cat.’
‘Mr Lessingham’s cat?’
‘Then it almost murdered Percy Woodville.’
‘Mr Atherton!—I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.’
‘It’s a fact. It was a question of a little matter in a wrong place, and, if it hadn’t been for something very like a miracle, he’d be dead.’
‘I wish you wouldn’t have anything to do with such things—I hate them.’
I stared.
‘Hate them?—I thought you’d come to see an illustration.’
‘And pray what was your notion of an illustration?’
‘Well, another cat would have had to be killed, at least.’
‘And do you suppose that I would have sat still while a cat was being killed for my—edification?’
‘It needn’t necessarily have been a cat, but something would have had to be killed,—how are you going to illustrate20 the death-dealing propensities21 of a weapon of that sort without it?’
‘Is it possible that you imagine that I came here to see something killed?’
‘Then for what did you come?’
I do not know what there was about the question which was startling, but as soon as it was out, she went a fiery22 red.
‘Because I was a fool.’
I was bewildered. Either she had got out of the wrong side of bed, or I had,—or we both had. Here she was, assailing23 me, hammer and tongs24, so far as I could see, for absolutely nothing.
‘You are pleased to be satirical at my expense.’
‘I should not dare. Your detection of me would be so painfully rapid.’
I was in no mood for jangling. I turned a little away from her. Immediately she was at my elbow.
‘Mr Atherton?’
‘Miss Grayling.’
‘Are you cross with me?’
‘But you are not stupid.’
‘No?—Nor you satirical.’
‘You are not stupid,—you know you are not stupid; it was only stupidity on my part to pretend that you were.’
‘It is very good of you to say so.—But I fear that I am an indifferent host. Although you would not care for an illustration, there may be other things which you might find amusing.’
‘Why do you keep on snubbing me?’
‘I keep on snubbing you!’
‘You are always snubbing me,—you know you are. Some times I feel as if I hated you.’
‘Miss Grayling!’
‘I do! I do! I do!’
‘After all, it is only natural.’
‘That is how you talk,—as if I were a child, and you were,—oh I don’t know what.—Well, Mr Atherton, I am sorry to be obliged to leave you. I have enjoyed my visit very much. I only hope I have not seemed too intrusive26.’
She flounced—‘flounce’ was the only appropriate word!—out of the room before I could stop her. I caught her in the passage.
‘Pray do not entreat me, Mr Atherton.’ Standing28 still she turned to me. ‘I would rather show myself to the door as I showed myself in, but, if that is impossible, might I ask you not to speak to me between this and the street?’
The hint was broad enough, even for me. I escorted her through the hall without a word,—in perfect silence she shook the dust of my abode29 from off her feet.
I had made a pretty mess of things. I felt it as I stood on the top of the steps and watched her going,—she was walking off at four miles an hour; I had not even ventured to ask to be allowed to call a hansom.
It was beginning to occur to me that this was a case in which another blow upon the river might be, to say the least of it, advisable—and I was just returning into the house with the intention of putting myself into my flannels30, when a cab drew up, and old Lindon got out of it.
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1
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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intruding
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| v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的现在分词)；把…强加于 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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6
follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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7
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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8
plausibility
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| n. 似有道理, 能言善辩 | |
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9
concoct
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| v.调合，制造 | |
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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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11
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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13
galling
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| adj.难堪的,使烦恼的,使焦躁的 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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15
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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demure
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| adj.严肃的；端庄的 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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slaughtering
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| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的现在分词 ) | |
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19
illustrating
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| 给…加插图( illustrate的现在分词 )； 说明； 表明； （用示例、图画等）说明 | |
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illustrate
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| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
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21
propensities
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| n.倾向，习性( propensity的名词复数 ) | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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assailing
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| v.攻击( assail的现在分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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24
tongs
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| n.钳；夹子 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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intrusive
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| adj.打搅的；侵扰的 | |
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27
entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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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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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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flannels
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| 法兰绒男裤； 法兰绒( flannel的名词复数 ) | |
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