The emptiness of the Foas’ box indicated that Miss Ingate might be correct in her interpretation7 of signals, and Audrey allowed herself to be led away from the now forlorn auditorium8. As they filed along the gangways she had to listen to the indifferent remarks of utterly9 unprejudiced and uninterested persons about the performance of genius, and further she had to learn that a fair proportion of them were departing with no intention to return. In the thronged10 foyer they saw Mr. Gilman, alone, before he saw them. He was carrying a box of chocolates—doubtless one of the little things that Mr. Price had had instructions to provide for the evening, Mr. Gilman perhaps would not have caught sight of them had it not been for the stridency of Miss Ingate’s voice, which caused him to turn round.
Audrey experienced once again the sensation—which latterly was apt to recur11 in her—of having too many matters on her mind simultaneously12; in a phrase, the sensation of the exceeding complexity13 of existence. And she resented it. The interview with Rosamund was quite enough for one night. It had been a triumph for her; she had surprised herself in that interview; it had left her with a conviction of freedom; it had uplifted her. She ought to have been in a state of exaltation after that interview, and she was. Only, while in a state of exaltation, she was still in the old state of depression—about the tendency of the concert, of her concert, and about the rumoured14 disappearance15 of her fortune. Also she was preoccupied16 by the very strange affair of Jane Foley and Aguilar.
And now—a further intricacy of mood—came a whole new set of emotions due to the mere17 spectacle of Mr. Gilman’s august back! She was intimidated18 by Mr. Gilman’s back. She knew horribly that in the afternoon she had treated Mr. Gilman as Mr. Gilman ought never to have been treated. And, quite apart from intimidation19, she had another feeling, a feeling which was ghastly and of which she was ashamed.... Assuming the disappearance of her fortune, would Mr. Gilman’s attitude towards her be thereby20 changed? ... She admitted that young girls ought not to have such suspicions against respectable and mature men of established position in the world. Nevertheless, she could not blow the suspicion away.
But the instant Mr. Gilman’s eye met hers the suspicion vanished, and not the suspicion only, but all her intimidation. The miracle was produced by something in the gaze of Mr. Gilman as it rested on her, something wistful—not more definable than that, something which she had noticed in Mr. Gilman’s gaze on other occasions. It perfectly21 restored her. It gave her the positive assurance of a fact which marvellously enheartens young girls of about Audrey’s years—to wit, that they have a mysterious power surpassing the power of age, knowledge, wisdom, or wealth, that they influence and decide the course of history, and are the sole true mistresses of the world. Whence the mysterious power sprang she did not exactly know, but she surmised—rightly—that it was connected with her youth, with a dimple, with the incredibly soft down on her cheek, with the arch softness of her glance, with a gesture of the hand, with a turn of the shoulder, with a pleat of the skirt.... Anyhow, she possessed22 it, and to possess it was to wield23 it. It transformed her into a delicious tyrant24, but a tyrant; it inspired her with exquisite25 cruelty, but cruelty. Her thoughts might have been summed up in eight words:
“Pooh! He has suffered. Well, he must suffer.”
Ah! But she meant to be very kind to him. He was so reliable, so adorable, and so dependent. She had genuine affection for him. And he was at once a rock and a cushion.
“Isn’t it going splendidly—splendidly, Mr. Gilman?” exclaimed Miss Ingate in her enthusiasm.
“Apparently,” said Mr. Gilman, with comfort in his voice.
At that moment the musical critic with large, dark Eastern eyes, whom Audrey had met at the Foas’, strolled nonchalantly by, and, perceiving Miss Ingate, described a huge and perfect curve in the air with his glossy26 silk hat, which had been tipped at the back of his head. Mr. Gilman had come close to Audrey.
“The Foas started down with me,” said Mr. Gilman mildly. “But they always meet such crowds of acquaintances at these affairs that they seldom get anywhere. Hortense would not leave the box. She never will.”
“Oh! I’m so glad I’ve seen you,” Audrey began excitedly, but with simplicity27 and compelling sweetness. “You’ve no idea how sorry I am about this afternoon! I’m frightfully sorry, really! But I was so upset. I didn’t know what to do. You know how anxious everybody was about Musa for to-night. He’s the pet of the Quarter, and, of course, I belong to the Quarter. At least—I did. I thought he might be ill, or something. However, it was all right in the end. I was looking forward tremendously to that drive. Are you going to forgive me?”
“Please, please!” he eagerly entreated28, with a faint blush. “Of course, I quite understand. There’s nothing whatever to forgive.”
“Oh! but there is,” she insisted. “Only you’re so good-natured.”
She was being magnanimous. She was pretending that she had no mysterious power. But her motive29 was quite pure. If he was good-natured, so was she. She honestly wanted to recompense him, and to recompense him richly. And she did. Her demeanour was enchanting30 in its ingenuous31 flattery. She felt happy despite all her anxieties, for he was living up to her ideal of him. She felt happy, and her resolve to make him happy to the very limit of his dreams was intense. She had a vision of her future existence stretching out in front of her, and there was not a shadow on it. She thought he was going to offer her the box of chocolates, but he did not.
“I rather wanted to ask your advice,” she said.
“I wish you would,” he replied.
Just then the Foas arrived, and with them Dauphin, the great and fashionable painter and the original discoverer of Musa. And as they all began to speak at once Audrey heard the Oriental musical critic say slowly to an inquiring Miss Ingate:
“It is not a concert talent that he has.”
“You hear! You hear!” exclaimed Monsieur Foa to Monsieur Dauphin and Madame Foa, with an impressed air. “You hear what Miquette says. He has not a concert talent. He has everything that you like, but not a concert talent.”
Foa seemed to be exhibiting the majestic32 Oriental, nicknamed Miquette, as the final arbiter33, whose word settled problems like a sword, and Miquette seemed to be trying to bear the high rôle with negligent34 modesty35.
“But, yes, he has! But, yes, he has!” Dauphin protested, sweeping36 all Miquettes politely away. And then there was an urbane37 riot of greetings, salutes38, bowings, smilings, cooings and compliments.
Dauphin was magnificent, playing the part of the opulent painter à la mode with the most finished skill, the most splendid richness of detail. It was notorious that in the evenings he wore the finest silk shirts in Paris, and his waistcoat was designed to give scope to these shirts. He might have come—he probably had come—straight from the bower39 of archduchesses; but he produced in Audrey the illusion that archduchesses were a trifle compared to herself. He had not seen her for a long time. Gazing at her, he breathed relief; all his features indicated the sudden, unexpected assuaging40 of eternal and intense desires. He might have been travelling through the desert for many days and she might have been the oasis—the pool of living water and the palm.
“Now—like that! Just like that!” he said, holding her hand and, as it were, hypnotising her in the pose in which she happened to be. He looked hard at her. “It is unique. Madame, where did you find that dress?”
“Callot,” answered Audrey submissively.
“I thought so. Well, Madame, I can wait no more. I will wait no more. It is Dauphin who implores41 you to come to his studio. To come—it is your duty. Madame Foa, you will bring her. I count on you absolutely to bring her. Even if it is only to be a sketch—the merest hint. But I must do it.”
“Oh, yes, Madame,” said Madame Foa with all the Italian charm. “Dauphin must paint you. The contrary is unthinkable. My husband and I have often said so.”
“To-morrow?” Dauphin suggested.
“Ah! To-morrow, my little Dauphin, I cannot,” said Madame Foa.
“Nor I,” said Audrey.
“The day after to-morrow, then. I will send my auto42. What address? Half-past eleven. That goes? In any case, I insist. Be kind! Be kind!”
Audrey blushed. Half the foyer was staring at the group. She was flattered. She saw herself remarkable43. She thought she would look more particularly, with perfect detachment, at the mirror that night, in order to decide whether her appearance was as striking, as original, as distinguished44, as Dauphin’s attitude implied. There must surely be something in it.
“About that advice—may I call to-morrow?” It was Mr. Gilman’s voice at her elbow.
“Advice?” She had forgotten her announced intention of asking his advice. (The subject was to be Zacatecas.) “Oh, yes. How nice of you! Please do call. Come for tea.” She was delightful45 to him, but at the same time there was in her tone a little of the condescending46 casualness proper to the tone of a girl openly admired by the confidant and painter of princesses and archduchesses, the man who treated all plain women and women past the prime with a desolating47 indifference48.
She thought:
Mr. Gilman gave thanksgivings and departed, explaining that he must return to Madame Piriac.
Foa and Dauphin and the Oriental resumed the argument about Musa’s talent and the concert. Miquette would say nothing as to the success of the concert. Foa asserted that the concert was not and would not be a success. Dauphin pooh-poohed and insisted vehemently50 that the success was unmistakable and increasing. Moreover, he criticised the hall, the choice of programme, the orchestra, the conductor. “I discovered Musa,” said he. “I have always said that he is a great concert player, and that he is destined51 for a great world-success, and to-night I am more sure of it than ever.” Whereupon Madame Foa said with much sympathy that she hoped it was so, and Foa said: “You create illusions for yourself, on purpose.” Dauphin bore him down with wavy52 gestures and warm cries of “No! No! No!” And he appealed to Audrey as-a woman incapable53 of illusions. And Audrey agreed with Dauphin. And while she was agreeing she kept saying to herself: “Why do I pretend to agree with him? He is not sincere. He knows he is not sincere. We all know—except perhaps Winnie Ingate. The concert is a failure. If it were not a failure, Madame Foa would not be so sympathetic. She is more subtle even than Madame Piriac. I shall never be subtle like that. I wish I could be. I wish I was at Moze. I am too Essex for all this. And Winnie here is too comic for words.”
An aged54 and repellent Jew came into sight. He raised Madame Foa’s hand to his odious55 lips and kissed it, and Audrey wondered how Madame Foa could tolerate the formality.
“Well, Monsieur Xavier?”
“Do not say,” said he, in a hoarse58 voice to the company, “do not say that I have not done my best on this occasion.” He lifted his eyes heavenward, and as he did so his passing glance embraced Audrey, and she violently hated him.
“Winnie,” said she, “I think we ought to be getting back to our seats.”
“But,” cried Madame Foa, “we are going round with Dauphin to the artists’ room. You do not come with us, Madame Moncreiff?”
“In your place ...” muttered Xavier discouragingly, with a look at Dauphin, and another shrug56 of the shoulders. “I have been ...”
“Ah!” said Dauphin, in a strange new tone. And then very brightly to Audrey: “Now, as to Saturday, dear lady——”
Xavier engaged in private converse59 with Foa, and his demeanour to Foa was extremely deferential60, whereas he almost ignored the Oriental critic. And Audrey puzzled her head once again to discover why the Foas should exert such influence upon the fate of music in Paris. The enigma61 was only one among many.
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1
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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vociferous
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| adj.喧哗的，大叫大嚷的 | |
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qualms
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| n.不安；内疚 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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auditorium
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| n.观众席，听众席；会堂，礼堂 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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recur
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| vi.复发，重现，再发生 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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complexity
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| n.复杂(性)，复杂的事物 | |
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rumoured
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| adj.谣传的；传说的；风 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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intimidated
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| v.恐吓；威胁adj.害怕的；受到威胁的 | |
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intimidation
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| n.恐吓，威胁 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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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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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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wield
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| vt.行使，运用，支配；挥，使用(武器等) | |
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tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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arbiter
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| n.仲裁人，公断人 | |
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negligent
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| adj.疏忽的；玩忽的；粗心大意的 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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urbane
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| adj.温文尔雅的，懂礼的 | |
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salutes
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| n.致敬，欢迎，敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎，致敬( salute的第三人称单数 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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assuaging
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| v.减轻( assuage的现在分词 )；缓和；平息；使安静 | |
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implores
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的第三人称单数 ) | |
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42
auto
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| n.(=automobile)(口语)汽车 | |
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43
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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45
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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46
condescending
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| adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
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desolating
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| 毁坏( desolate的现在分词 )； 极大地破坏； 使沮丧； 使痛苦 | |
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48
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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49
snob
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| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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51
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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52
wavy
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| adj.有波浪的，多浪的，波浪状的，波动的，不稳定的 | |
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53
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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54
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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55
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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56
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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57
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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58
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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59
converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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60
deferential
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| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
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61
enigma
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| n.谜，谜一样的人或事 | |
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