“What does she say? Skeed—skeed?” demanded the host.
Audrey interpreted. Shouts of laughter!
“Oh! These English! These Englishwomen!” said the host. “I adore them. I adore them all. They alone exist.”
“It’s vehy serious!” protested Miss Ingate. “It’s vehy serious!”
“We shall go to London to-morrow, shan’t we, Winnie?” said Audrey across the table to her.
“Yes,” agreed Miss Ingate. “I think we ought. We’re as free as birds. When the police have broken our arms we can come back to Paris to recover. I shan’t feel comfortable until I’ve been and had my arm broken—it’s vehy serious.”
“What does she say? What is it that she says?” from the host.
More interpretation14. More laughter, but this time an impressed laughter. And Audrey perceived that just as she was regarding the Polish woman as romantic, so the whole company was regarding herself and Miss Ingate as romantic. She could feel the polite, curious eyes of twenty men upon her; and her mind seemed to stiffen15 into a formidable resolve. She grew conscious of the lifting of all depression, all anxiety. Her conscience was at rest. She had been thinking for more than a week past: “I ought to go to London.” How often had she not said to herself: “If any woman should be in this movement, I should be in this movement. I am a coward as long as I stay here, dallying16 my time away.” Now the decision was made, absolutely.
The Oriental musical critic turned to glance upward behind his chair. Then he vacated it. The next instant Madame Piriac was sitting in his place.
She said:
“Are you really going to London to-morrow, Madame?”
“Yes, Madame, really!” answered Audrey firmly, without the least hesitation17.
“How I regret it! For this reason. I wished so much to make your acquaintance. I mean—to know you a little. You go perhaps in the afternoon? Could you not do me the great pleasure of coming to lunch with me? I inhabit the Quai Voltaire. It is all that is most convenient.”
Audrey was startled and suspicious, but she could not deny the persuasiveness18 of the invitation.
“Ah! Madame!” she said. “I know not at what hour we go. But even if it should be in the afternoon there is the packing—you know—in a word....”
“Listen,” Madame Piriac proceeded, bending even more intimately towards her. “Be very, very kind. Come to see me to-night. Come in my car. I will see that you reach the Rue19 Delambre afterwards.”
Madame Piriac was a little taken aback.
“So much the better,” she said, in a new tone. “The Hôtel du Danube is nearer still. But come in my car. Mademoiselle Ingate can return in yours. Do not desolate21 me.”
“Does she know who I am?” thought Audrey, and then: “What do I care if she does?”
And she said aloud:
A considerable period elapsed before they could leave, because of the complex discussion concerning feminism which was delicately raging round the edge of the table. The animation23 was acute, but it was purely24 intellectual. The guests discussed the psychology25 of English suffragettes, sympathetically, admiringly; they were even wonderstruck; yet they might have been discussing the psychology of the ancient Babylonians, so perfect was their detachment, so completely unclouded by any prejudice was their desire to reach the truth. Many of the things which they imperturbably26 and politely said made Audrey feel glad that she was a widow. Had she not been a widow, possibly they would not have been uttered.
And when Madame Piriac and Audrey did rise to go, both host and hostess began to upbraid27. The host, indeed, barred the doorway28 with his urbane29 figure. They were not kind, they were not true friends, to leave so soon. The morrow had no sort of importance. The hour was scarcely one o’clock. Other guests were expected.... Madame Piriac alone knew how to handle the situation; she appealed privately30 to Madame Foa. Having appealed to Madame Foa, she disappeared with Madame Foa, and could not be found when Audrey and Miss Ingate were ready to leave. While these two waited in the antechamber, Monsieur Foa said suddenly in a confidential31 tone to Audrey:
“He is charming, Musa, quite charming.”
“Did you like his playing?” Audrey demanded boldly.
She could not understand why it should be necessary for a violinist to play and to succeed at this house before he could capture Paris. She was delighted excessively with the home, but positively32 it bore no resemblance to what she had anticipated; nor did it seem to her to possess any of the attributes of influence; for one of her basic ideas about the world was that influential33 people must be dull and formal, moving about with deliberation in sombrely magnificent interiors.
“Yes,” said Monsieur Foa. “I like it. He plays admirably.” And he spoke34 sincerely. Audrey, however, was a little disappointed because Monsieur Foa did not assert that Musa was the most marvellous genius he had ever listened to.
“I am very, very content to have heard him,” said Monsieur Foa.
“Do you think he will succeed in Paris?”
“I suppose if he had money?” Audrey murmured.
“Ah! Madame! In Paris, if one has money, one has everything. Paris—it is not London, where to succeed one must be truly successful. But he is a player very highly accomplished36. It is miraculous37 that he should have played so long in a café—Dauphin told me the history.”
Musa appeared, and after him Madame Piriac. More appeals, more reproaches, more asseverations that friends who left so early as one o’clock in the morning were not friends—and the host at length consented to open the door. At that very instant the bell clanged. Another guest had arrived.
When, after the long descent of the stairs (which, however, unlike the stairs of the Rue Delambre, were lighted), Audrey saw seven automobiles38 in the street, she veered40 again towards the possibility that the Foas might after all be influential. Musa and Mr. Gilman, the yachtsman, had left with the women. Audrey told Miss Ingate to drive Musa home. She said not a word to him about her departure the next afternoon, and he made no reference to it. As the most imposing41 automobile39 moved splendidly away, Mr. Gilman held open the door of Madame Piriac’s vehicle.
Mr. Gilman sat down opposite to the women. In the enclosed space the rumour42 of his heavy breathing was noticeable. Madame Piriac began to speak in English—her own English—with a unique accent that Audrey at once loved.
“You commence soon the yachting, my oncle?” said she, and turning to Audrey: “Mistair Gilman is no oncle to me. But he is a great friend of my husband. I call always him oncle. Do not I, oncle? Mistair Gilman lives only for the yachting. Every year in May we lose him, till September.”
“Really!” said Audrey.
Her heart was apprehensively43 beating. She even suspected for an instant that both of them knew who she was, and that Mr. Gilman, before she had addressed him in the drawing-room, had already related to Madame Piriac the episode of Mozewater. Then she said to herself that the idea was absurd; and lastly, repeating within her breast that she didn’t care, she became desperately44 bold.
“I should love to buy a yacht,” she said, after a pause. “We used to live far inland and I know nothing of the sea; in fact I scarcely saw it till I crossed the Channel, but I have always dreamed about it.”
“You must come and have a look at my new yacht, Mrs. Moncreiff,” said Mr. Gilman in his solemn, thick voice. “I always say that no yacht is herself without ladies on board, a yacht being feminine, you see.” He gave a little laugh.
“Ah! My oncle!” Madame Piriac broke in. “I see in that no reason. If a yacht was masculine then I could see the reason in it.”
“Perhaps not one of my happiest efforts,” said Mf. Gilman with resignation. “I am a dull man.”
“No, no!” Madame Piriac protested. “You are a dear. But why have you said nothing to-night at the Foas in the great discussion about feminism? Not one word have you said!”
“I really don’t understand it,” said Mr. Gilman. “Either everybody is mad, or I am mad. I dare say I am mad.”
“Well,” said Madame Piriac. “I said not much myself, but I enjoyed it. It was better than the music, music, which they talk always there. People talk too much shops in these days. It is out-to-place and done over.”
“Well, overdone, if you like better that.”
“Do you mean shop, Hortense?” asked Mr. Gilman further.
“Shop, shop! The English is impossible!”
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收听单词发音
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1
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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2
brewed
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| 调制( brew的过去式和过去分词 )； 酝酿； 沏（茶）； 煮（咖啡） | |
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3
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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4
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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5
battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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7
shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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8
converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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9
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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10
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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11
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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12
sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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13
skidding
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| n.曳出，集材v.（通常指车辆） 侧滑( skid的现在分词 )；打滑；滑行；（住在）贫民区 | |
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14
interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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15
stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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16
dallying
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| v.随随便便地对待( dally的现在分词 )；不很认真地考虑；浪费时间；调情 | |
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17
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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18
persuasiveness
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| 说服力 | |
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19
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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20
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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21
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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22
desolated
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| adj.荒凉的，荒废的 | |
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23
animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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24
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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25
psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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26
imperturbably
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| adv.泰然地，镇静地，平静地 | |
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27
upbraid
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| v.斥责，责骂，责备 | |
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28
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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29
urbane
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| adj.温文尔雅的，懂礼的 | |
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30
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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31
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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32
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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33
influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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34
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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35
snobs
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| （谄上傲下的）势利小人( snob的名词复数 )； 自高自大者，自命不凡者 | |
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36
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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37
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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38
automobiles
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| n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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39
automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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40
veered
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| v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的过去式和过去分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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41
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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42
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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43
apprehensively
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| adv.担心地 | |
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44
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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45
overdone
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| v.做得过分( overdo的过去分词 )；太夸张；把…煮得太久；（工作等）过度 | |
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46
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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