"Hallo, Mr. Orgreave!" George exclaimed, jumping up.
"If the mountain doesn't come to Mahomet, Mahomet must come to the mountain," said John Orgreave.
"Come in," said George.
He noticed, and ignored, the touch of sarcasm3 in John Orgreave's attitude. He had noticed a similar phenomenon in the attitude of various people within the last four days, since architectural circles and even the world in general had begun to resound4 with the echoing news that the competition for the northern town hall had been won by a youth not twenty-three years of age. Mr. Enwright had been almost cross, asserting that the victory was perhaps a fluke, as the design of another competitor was in reality superior to George's. Mr. Enwright had also said, in his crabbed5 way: "You'll soon cut me out"; and, George protesting, had gone on: "Oh! Yes, you will. I've been through this sort of thing before. I know what I'm talking about. You're no different from the rest." Whereupon George, impatient and genuinely annoyed, had retorted upon him quite curtly6, and had remembered what many persons had said about Mr. Enwright's wrong-headed jealous sensitiveness—animadversions which he, as a worshipper of Mr. Enwright, had been accustomed to rebut7. Further, Lucas himself had not erred8 by the extravagance of his enthusiasm for George's earth-shaking success. For example, Lucas had said: "Don't go and get above yourself, old chap. They may decide not to build it after all. You never know with these corporations." A remark extremely undeserved, for George considered that the modesty9 and simplicity10 of his own demeanour under the stress of an inordinate11 triumph were rather notable. Still, he had his dignity to maintain against the satiric12, and his position was such that he could afford to maintain it.
Anyhow, he preferred the sardonic13 bearing of his professional intimates to the sycophancy14 of certain acquaintances and of eager snobs15 unknown to him. Among sundry16 telegrams received was one composed regardless of cost and signed 'Turnbull.' He could not discover who Turnbull might be until John Orgreave had reminded him of the wigged17, brown, conversational18 gentleman whom he had met, on one occasion only, at Adela's. In addition to telegrams he had had letters, some of which contained requests for money (demanded even as a right by the unlucky from the lucky), and an assortment19 of charity circulars, money-lenders' circulars, and bucket-shop lures20. His mother's great sprawling21 letter had pleased him better than any save one. The exception was his stepfather's. Edwin Clayhanger, duly passing on to the next generation the benevolent22 Midland gibe23 which he had inherited, wrote:
"DEAR GEORGE,—It's better than a bat in the eye with a burnt stick.—Yours affectionately, NUNKS"
As a boy George had at one period called his stepfather 'Nunks,' but he had not used the appellation24 for years. He was touched now.
The newspapers had been hot after him, and he knew not how to defend himself. His photograph was implored25. He was waylaid26 by journalists shabby and by journalists spruce, and the resulting interviews made him squirm. He became a man of mark at Pickering's. Photographers entreated27 him to sit free of charge. What irritated him in the whole vast affair was the continual insistence28 upon his lack of years. Nobody seemed to be interested in his design for the town hall; everybody had the air of regarding him as a youthful prodigy29, a performing animal. Personally he did not consider that he was so very young. (Nevertheless he did consider that he was a youthful prodigy. He could recall no architect in history who had done what he had done at his age.) The town clerk who travelled from the North to see him treated his age in a different manner, the patronizing. He did not care for the town clerk. However, the town clerk was atoned30 for by the chairman of the new town hall sub-committee, a true human being named Soulter, with a terrific accent and a taste for architecture, pictures, and music. Mr. Soulter, though at least forty-five, treated George, without any appearance of effort, as a coeval31. George immediately liked him, and the mere32 existence of Mr. Soulter had the effect of dissipating nearly all George's horrible qualms33 and apprehensions34 about his own competence35 to face the overwhelming job of erection. Mr. Soulter was most soothing36 in the matter of specifications37 and contractors38.
"So you've got into your new room," said John Orgreave.
Never before had he mounted to see George either in the new room or in the old room. The simple fact of the presence there of one of the partners in the historic firm below compensated39 for much teasing sarcasm and half-veiled jealousy40. It was a sign. It was a seal authenticating41 renown42.
"Yes."
"I only wanted to give you a message from Adela. The Ingram young woman is staying with us——"
"Lois?" The name shot out of him unbidden.
"Yes. You're humbly43 supplicated44 to go to tea to-day. Four o'clock. Thank God I've not forgotten it!"
George arrived fifty-five minutes late at Bedford Park. Throughout the journey thither45 he kept repeating: "She said I should do it. And I've done it! I've done it! I've done it!" The triumph was still so close behind him that he was constantly realizing it afresh, and saying, wonder-struck: "I've done it." And the miraculous46 phantasm of the town hall, uplifted in solid stone, formed itself again and again in his enchanted47 mind, against a background of tremendous new ambitions rising endlessly one behind another like snowy alps.
"Is this what you call four o'clock?" twittered Adela, between cajolery and protest, somewhat older and facially more artificial, but eternally blonde; still holding her fair head on one side and sinuously48 waving the palm.
" Sorry! Sorry! I was kept at the last moment by a journalist johnny."
"Oh! Of course!" said Adela, pooh-poohing with her lips. "Of course we expect that story nowadays!"
"Well, it was a chap from the Builder , or I wouldn't have seen him. Can't trifle with a trade paper, you know."
He thought:
"She's like the rest of them, as jealous as the devil."
Then Lois came into the room, hatted and gloved, in half-mourning. She was pale, and appreciably49 thinner; she looked nervous, weak, and weary. As he shook hands with her he felt very self-conscious, as though in winning the competition and fulfilling her prophecy he had done something dubious50 for which he ought to apologize. This was exceedingly strange, but it was so. She had been ill after the death of Irene Wheeler. Having left Paris for London on the day following the races, he had written to her about nothing in particular, a letter which meant everything but what it said—and had received an answer from Laurencine, who announced that her sister was in bed, and likely to be in bed; and that father and mother wished to be remembered to him. Then he wrote to Laurencine. When the result of the final competition was published he had written again to Lois. It seemed to him that he was bound to do so, for had she not willed and decided51 his victory? No reply; but there had scarcely been time for a reply.
"Did you get my letter?" he smiled.
"This afternoon," she said gravely. "It followed me here. Now I have to go to Irene's flat. I should have been gone in another minute."
"She will go alone," Adela put in anxiously.
"I shall be back for dinner," said Lois, and to the stupefaction of George she moved towards the door.
But just as she opened the door she turned her head and, looking at George with a frown, murmured:
"You can come with me if you like."
Adela burst out:
"He hasn't had any tea!"
"I'm not urging him to come, my dear. Good-bye."
Adela and George exchanged a glance, each signalling to the other that perhaps this sick, strange girl ought to be humoured. He abandoned the tea.... He was in the street with Lois. He was in the train with her. Her ticket was in his pocket. He had explained to her why he was late, and she had smiled, amiably52 but enigmatically. He thought: "She's no right to go on like this. But what does it matter?" She said nothing about the competition—not a word of congratulation. Indeed she hardly spoke53 beyond telling him that she had to choose some object at the flat. He was aware of the principal terms of Irene's will, which indeed had caused the last flutter of excitement before oblivion so quickly descended54 upon the notoriety of the social star. Irene's renown had survived her complexion55 by only a few short weeks. The will was of a rather romantic nature. Nobody familiar with the intimate circumstances would have been surprised if Irene had divided her fortune between Lois and Laurencine. The bulk of it, however, went back to Indianapolis. The gross total fell far short of popular estimates. Lois and Laurencine received five thousand pounds apiece, and in addition they were requested to select each an object from Irene's belongings—Lois out of the London flat, Laurencine out of the Paris flat. Lois had come to London to choose, and she was staying with Adela, the sole chaperon available. Since the death of Irene, Mrs. Ingram had been excessively strict in the matter of chaperons.
They took a hansom at Victoria. Across the great square, whose leaves were just yellowing, George saw the huge block of flats, and in one story all the blinds were down. Lois marched first into the lift, masterfully, as though she inhabited the block. She asked no one's permission. Characteristically she had an order from the solicitors56, and the keys of the flat. She opened the door without any trouble. They were inside, within the pale-sheeted interior. Scarcely a thing had yet been moved, for, with the formalities of the judicatures of France, England, and the State of Indiana to be complied with, events marched slowly under the sticky manipulation of three different legal firms. Lois and George walked cautiously across the dusty, dulled parquets57 into the vast drawing-room. George doffed58 his hat.
"I'd better draw the blinds up," he suggested.
"No, no!" she sharply commanded. "I can see quite well. I don't want any more light."
There was the piano upon which Laurencine had played! The embrasure of the window! The corner in which Irene had sat spellbound by Jules Defourcambault! The portraits of Irene, at least one of which would perpetuate59 her name! The glazed60 cases full of her collections!... The chief pieces of furniture and all the chairs were draped in the pale, ghostly sheeting.
Suddenly Lois, rushing to the mantelpiece, cried:
"This is what I shall take."
It was a large photograph of Jules Defourcambault, bearing the words: " À Miss Irene Wheeler. Hommages respectueux de J.D.F."
"You won't!" he exclaimed, incredulous, shocked. He thought: "She is mad!"
"Yes, I shall."
There were hundreds of beautiful objects in the place, and she chose a banal61 photograph of a despicable creature whom she detested62.
"Why don't you take one of her portraits? Or even a fan. What on earth do you want with a thing like that?" His voice was changing.
"I shall take it and keep it for ever. He was the cause of it all. This photograph was everything to her once."
She dropped down into a chair, and the impress of her body dragged the dust-sheet from its gilt65 arms, exposing them. She put her face in her hands and sobbed66.
The sobs68 continued, shaking her body. She was beautifully dressed. Her shoes were adorable, and the semi-transparent hose over her fine ankles. She made a most disturbing, an unbearable69, figure of compassion70. She needed wisdom, protection, guidance, strength. Every bit of her seemed to appeal for these qualities. But at the same time she dismayed. He moved nearer to her. Yes, she had grandeur71. All the costly72 and valuable objects in the drawing-room she had rejected in favour of the satisfaction of a morbid and terrible whim73. Who could have foreseen it? He moved still nearer. He stood over her. He seized her yielding wrists. He lifted her veil. Tears were running down her cheeks from the yellow eyes. She looked at him through her tears.
"You're frightfully cruel," she feebly repeated.
"And what if I am?" he said solemnly. Did she really think him hard, had she always thought him hard—she, the hard one? How strange! Yet no doubt he was hard.
"She had faith in me." It was as if her faith had created the man he was. She was passionately75 ambitious; so was he.
And when he kissed her wet mouth, and stroked with incredible delicacy76 those streaming cheeks, he felt himself full of foreboding. But he was proud and confident.
He took her back to Bedford Park. She carried the photograph, unwrapped; but he ventured no comment. She went straight up to her room.
" You must tell Mrs. Orgreave," she said on the stairs.
Adela made a strange remark:
"Oh! But we always intended you to marry Lois!"
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
underneath
|
|
| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
sarcasm
|
|
| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
resound
|
|
| v.回响 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
crabbed
|
|
| adj.脾气坏的；易怒的；（指字迹）难辨认的；（字迹等）难辨认的v.捕蟹( crab的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
curtly
|
|
| adv.简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
rebut
|
|
| v.辩驳，驳回 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
erred
|
|
| 犯错误，做错事( err的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
modesty
|
|
| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
inordinate
|
|
| adj.无节制的；过度的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
satiric
|
|
| adj.讽刺的，挖苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
sardonic
|
|
| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
sycophancy
|
|
| n.拍马屁，奉承，谄媚；吮痈舐痔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
snobs
|
|
| （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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
sundry
|
|
| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
wigged
|
|
| adj.戴假发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
conversational
|
|
| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
assortment
|
|
| n.分类，各色俱备之物，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
lures
|
|
| 吸引力，魅力（lure的复数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
sprawling
|
|
| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
benevolent
|
|
| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
gibe
|
|
| n.讥笑；嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
appellation
|
|
| n.名称，称呼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
implored
|
|
| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
waylaid
|
|
| v.拦截，拦路( waylay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
entreated
|
|
| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
insistence
|
|
| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
prodigy
|
|
| n.惊人的事物，奇迹，神童，天才，预兆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
atoned
|
|
| v.补偿，赎（罪）( atone的过去式和过去分词 )；补偿，弥补，赎回 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
coeval
|
|
| adj.同时代的；n.同时代的人或事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
qualms
|
|
| n.不安；内疚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
apprehensions
|
|
| 疑惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
competence
|
|
| n.能力，胜任，称职 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
soothing
|
|
| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
specifications
|
|
| n.规格；载明；详述；（产品等的）说明书；说明书( specification的名词复数 )；详细的计划书；载明；详述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
contractors
|
|
| n.（建筑、监造中的）承包人( contractor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
compensated
|
|
| 补偿，报酬( compensate的过去式和过去分词 )； 给（某人）赔偿（或赔款） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
jealousy
|
|
| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
authenticating
|
|
| v.证明是真实的、可靠的或有效的( authenticate的现在分词 )；鉴定，使生效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
renown
|
|
| n.声誉，名望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
humbly
|
|
| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
supplicated
|
|
| v.祈求，哀求，恳求( supplicate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
miraculous
|
|
| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
enchanted
|
|
| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
sinuously
|
|
| 弯曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
appreciably
|
|
| adv.相当大地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
dubious
|
|
| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
amiably
|
|
| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
complexion
|
|
| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
solicitors
|
|
| 初级律师( solicitor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
parquets
|
|
| v.镶木地板( parquet的第三人称单数 )；（剧场的）正厅后排 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
58
doffed
|
|
| v.脱去，（尤指）脱帽( doff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
perpetuate
|
|
| v.使永存，使永记不忘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
glazed
|
|
| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
banal
|
|
| adj.陈腐的，平庸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
detested
|
|
| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
morbid
|
|
| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
gilt
|
|
| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
sobbed
|
|
| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
awfully
|
|
| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
sobs
|
|
| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
unbearable
|
|
| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
grandeur
|
|
| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
costly
|
|
| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
whim
|
|
| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
paramount
|
|
| a.最重要的，最高权力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
passionately
|
|
| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |