Louis had wakened up a few minutes before Rachel returned to the bedroom from that most wonderfully conscientious2 spell of silver-cleaning. He was relieved to find himself alone. He was ill, perhaps very ill, but he felt unquestionably better than in the night. He was delivered from the appalling3 fear of death which had tortured and frightened him, and his thankfulness was intense; and yet at the same time he was aware of a sort of heroical sentimental4 regret that he was not, after all, dead; he would almost have preferred to die with grandeur5, young, unfortunate, wept for by an inconsolable wife doomed6 to everlasting7 widowhood. He was ashamed of his bodily improvement, which rendered him uncomfortably self-conscious, for he had behaved as though dying when, as the event proved, he was not dying.
When Rachel came in, this self-consciousness grew terrible. And in his weakness, his constraint8, his febrile perturbation which completely destroyed presence of mind, he feebly remarked—
"Did any one call yesterday to ask how I was?"
As soon as he had said it he knew that it was inept9, and quite unsuitable to the role which he ought to play.
Rachel had gone straight to the dressing-table, apparently10 ignoring him, though she could not possibly have failed to notice that he was awake. She turned sharply and gazed at him with a look of inimical contempt that aggrieved11 and scarified him very acutely. Making no answer to his query12, content solely13 to condemn14 it with her eyes as egotistic and vain, she said—
"I'm going to make you some food."
And then she curtly15 showed him her bent16 back, and over the foot of the bed he could see her preparations—preliminary stirring with a spoon, the placing of the bright tin saucepan on the lamp, the opening of the wick, seizing of the match-box.
As soon as the cooking was in train, she threw up the window wide and then came to the bed.
"I'll just put your bed to rights again," she remarked, and seized the pillow, waiting implacably for him to raise his head. He had to raise his head.
"I'm very ill," he moaned.
She replied in a tone of calm indifference17—
"I know you are. But you'll soon be better. You're getting a little better every hour." And she finished arranging the bed, which was presently in a state of smooth geometrical correctness. He could find no fault with her efficiency, nor with her careful handling of his sensitive body. But the hard, the marmoreal cruelty of his wife's spirit exquisitely18 wounded his soul, which, after all, was at least as much in need of consolation19 as his body. He was positively20 daunted21.
II
He had passed through dreadful moments in the early part of the night while Rachel slept. When he had realized that he was doomed—for the conviction that death was upon him had been absolutely sincere and final for a long time—he was panic-stricken, impressed, and strangely proud, all at once. But the panic was paramount22. He was afraid, horribly afraid. His cowardice23 was ghastly, even to himself, shot through though it was by a peculiar24 appreciation25 of the grandiosity26 of his fate as a martyr27 to clumsy chance. He was reduced by it to the trembling repentant28 sinner, as the proud prisoner is reduced to abjection29 by prolonged and secret torture in Oriental prisons. He ranged in fright over the whole of his career, and was obliged to admit, and to admit with craven obsequiousness30, that he had been a wicked man, obstinate31 in wickedness.
He remembered matters which had utterly32 vanished from his memory. He remembered, for example, the excellence33 of his moral aspirations34 when he had first thought of Rachel as a wife, and the firm, high resolves which were to be carried out if he married her. Forgotten! Forgotten! As soon as he had won her he had thought of nothing but self-indulgence, pleasure, capricious delights. His tailor still languished35 for money long justly due. He had not even restored the defalcations in Horrocleave's petty cash. Of course it would have been difficult to restore a sum comparatively so large without causing suspicion. To restore it would have involved a long series of minute acts, alterations36 of alterations in the cash entries, and constant ingenuity37 in a hundred ways. But it ought to have been done, and might have been done. It might have been done. He admitted that candidly38, fully1, with despicable tremblings....
And the worst of all, naturally, was the theft from his aunt. Theft? Was it a theft? He had never before consented to define the affair as a theft; it had been a misfortune, an indiscretion. But now he was ready to call it a theft, in order to be on the safe side. For the sake of placating39 Omnipotence40 let it be deemed a theft, and even a mean theft, entailing41 dire42 consequences on a weak old woman! Let it be as bad as the severest judge chose to make it! He would not complain. He would accept the arraignment43 (though really he had not been so blameworthy, etc....). He knew that with all his sins he, possessed44 the virtues45 of good nature, kindness, and politeness. He was not wholly vile46. In some ways he honestly considered himself a model to mankind.
And then he had recalled certain information received in childhood from authoritative47 persons about the merciful goodness of God. His childhood had been rather ceremoniously religious, for his step-uncle, the Lieutenant-General, was a great defender48 of Christianity as well as of the British Empire. The Lieutenant-General had even written a pamphlet against a ribald iconoclastic49 book published by the Rationalist Press Association, in which pamphlet he had made a sorry mess of Herbert Spencer. All the Lieutenant-General's relatives and near admirers went to church, and they all went to precisely50 the same kind of church, for no other kind would have served. Louis, however, had really liked going to church. There had once even been a mad suggestion that he should become a choir-boy, but the Lieutenant-General had naturally decided51 that it was not meet for a child of breeding to associate with plebeians52 in order to chant the praises of the Almighty53.
Louis at his worst had never quite ceased to attend church, though he was under the impression that his religious views had broadened, if not entirely54 changed. Beneath the sudden heavy menace of death he discovered that his original views were, after all, the most authentic55 and the strongest. And he had much longed for converse56 with a clergyman, who would repeat to him the beautiful reassurances57 of his infancy58. Even late in the afternoon, hours before the supreme59 crisis, he would have welcomed a clergyman, for he was already beginning to be afraid. He would have liked a clergyman to drop in by accident; he would have liked the first advances to come from the clergyman.
But he could not bring himself to suggest that the rector of St. Luke's, of whose flock he now formed part, should be sent for. He had demanded a lawyer, and that was as near to a clergyman as he could get. He had been balked60 of the lawyer. Further on in the evening, when his need was more acute and his mind full of frightful61 secret apprehensions62, he was as far as ever from obtaining a clergyman. And he knew that, though his eternal welfare might somehow depend on the priest, he could never articulate to Rachel the words, "I should like to see a clergyman." It would seem too absurd to ask for a clergyman.... Strangeness of the human heart!
It was after Rachel had fallen asleep that the idea of confession63 had occurred to him as a means towards safety in the future life. The example of Julian had inspired him. He had despised Julian; he had patronized Julian; but in his extremity64 he had been ready to imitate him. He seemed to conceive that confession before death must be excellent for the soul. At any rate, it prevented one from going down to the tomb with a lie tacit on the lips. He was very ill, very weak, very intimidated65. And he was very solitary66 and driven in on himself—not so much because Rachel had gone to sleep as because neither Rachel nor anybody else would believe that he was really dying. His spirit was absorbed in the gravest preoccupations that can trouble a man. His need of sympathy and succour was desperate. Thus he had wakened Rachel. At first she had been as sympathetic and consoling as he could desire. She had held his hand and sat on the bed. The momentary67 relief was wonderful. And he had been encouraged to confess.
He had prodded68 himself on to confession by the thought that Rachel must have known of his guilt69 all along—otherwise she would never have told that senseless lie about the scullery door being open. Hence his confession could not surprise her. She would receive it in the right, loving, wifely attitude, telling him that he was making too much of a little, that it was splendid of him to confess, and generally exonerating70 and rehabilitating71 him.
Then he had begun to confess. The horrible change in her tone as he came to the point had unnerved him. Her wild sobs72 when the confession was made completed his dismay. And then, afterwards, her incredible harshness and cruelty, her renewed refusal, flat and disdainful, to believe that he was dying—these things were the most wounding experience of his entire existence. As for her refusal to listen to the rest of his story, the important part, the exculpatory74 part—it was monstrously75 unjust. He had had an instant's satisfaction on beholding76 her confusion at being charged with the lie about the scullery door, but it was a transient advantage. He was so ill.... She had bullied77 him with the lacerating emphasis of her taciturn remarks.... And at last she had requested him not to make it any more awkward for her!...
III
When he had obediently taken the food and thanked her for it very nicely, he felt much better. The desire for a clergyman, or even for a lawyer, passed away from his mind; he forgot the majority of his sins and his aspirations, and the need for restoring the defalcations to Jim Horrocleave seemed considerably78 less urgent. Rachel stayed by him while he ate, but she would not meet his glance, and looked carefully at the window.
"As soon as I've tidied up the room, I'll just sponge your hands," said she. "The doctor will be here early. I suppose I mustn't touch your face."
Louis inquired—
"How do you know he'll be here early?"
She went to work on the room, producing a duster from somewhere, and ringing for Mrs. Tams, who, however, was not permitted to enter. Louis hated these preparations for the doctor. He had never in his life been able to understand why women were always so absurdly afraid of the doctor's eye. As if the doctor would care! Moreover, the room was being tidied for the doctor, not for the invalid80! The invalid didn't matter! When she came to him with a bowl of water, soap, and a towel, he loathed81 the womanish scheme of being washed in bed.
"I'll get up," he said. "I'm lots better." He had previously82 intended to feign83 extreme illness, but he forgot.
"Oh no, you won't," she replied coldly. "First you think you're dying, and then you think you're all right. You won't stir out of that bed till the doctor's been, at any rate."
And she lodged84 the bowl dangerously between his knees. He pretended to be contemptuous of her refusal to let him get up, but in fact he was glad of an excuse for not making good his boast. His previous statement that he was very ill was much nearer to the truth than the fine talking about being "lots better." If not very ill, he was, at any rate, more ill than he now thought he was, and eating had fatigued85 him. Nevertheless, he would wash his own hands. Rachel yielded to him in this detail with cynical86 indifference. She put the towel by the bowl, and left him to balance the bowl and keep the soap off the counterpane as best he could, while she rummaged87 in one of the drawers of the wardrobe—obviously for the simple sake of rummaging88.
Her unwifeliness was astounding89; it was so astounding that Louis did not all at once quite realize how dangerously he was wounded by it. He had seen that hard, contumelious mask on her face several times before; he had seen it, for instance, when she had been expressing her views on Councillor Batchgrew; but he had not conceived, in his absurd male confidence, that it would ever be directed against himself. He could not snatch the mask from her face, but he wondered how he might pierce it, and incidentally hurt her and make her cry softly. Ah! He had seen her in moods of softness which were celestial90 to him—surpassing all dreams of felicity!
The conviction of his own innocence91 and victimhood strengthened in him. Amid the morbid92 excitations of the fear of death, he had forgotten that in strict truth he had not stolen a penny from his great-aunt, that he was utterly innocent. He now vividly93 remembered that his sole intention in taking possession of the bank-notes had been to teach his great-aunt a valuable lesson about care in the guarding of money. Afterwards he had meant to put the notes back where he had found them; chance had prevented; he had consistently acted for the best in very sudden difficulties, and after all, in the result, it was not he who was responsible for the destruction of the notes, but Rachel.... True, that in the night his vision of the affair had been less favourable94 to himself, but in the night illness had vitiated his judgment95, which was not strange, seeing the dreadful accident he had experienced.... He might have died, and where would Rachel have been then?... Was it not amazing that a young wife who had just escaped widowhood so narrowly could behave to a husband, a seriously sick husband, as Rachel was behaving to him?
He wished that he had not used the word "collar" in confessing to Rachel. It was equal to "steal." Its significance was undebatable. Yes, "collar" was a grave error of phrasing.
"I'm about done with this basin thing," he said, with all possible dignity, and asked for brushes of various sorts for the completion of his toilet. She served him slowly, coolly. Her intention was clear to act as a capable but frigid96 nurse—not as a wife. He saw that she thought herself the wife of a thief, and that she was determined97 not to be the wife of a thief. He could not bear it. The situation must be changed immediately, because his pride was bleeding to death.
"I say," he began, when she had taken away the towel and his tooth-powder.
"What?" Her tone challenged him.
"You wouldn't let me finish last night. I just wanted to tell you that I didn't—"
"I've no wish to hear another word." She stopped him, precisely as she had stopped him in the night. She was at the washstand.
"I should be obliged if you'd look at me when you speak to me," he reproached her manners. "It's only polite."
She turned to him with face flaming. They were both aware that his deportment was better than hers; and he perceived that the correction had abraded98 her susceptibility.
"I'll look at you all right," she answered, curtly and rather loudly.
He adopted a superior attitude.
"Of course I'm ill and weak," he said, "but even if I am I suppose I'm entitled to some consideration." He lay back on the pillow.
"I can't help your being ill," she answered. "It's not my fault. And if you're so ill and weak as all that, it seems to me the best thing you can do is to be quiet and not to talk, especially about—about that!"
"Well, perhaps you'll let me be the best judge of what I ought to talk about. Anyhow, I'm going to talk about it, and you're going to listen."
"I'm not."
"I say you're going to listen," he insisted, turning on his side towards her. "And why not? Why, what on earth did I say last night, after all, I should like to know?"
"You said you'd taken the other part of the money of Mrs. Maldon's—that's what you said. You thought you were dying, and so you told me."
"That's just what I want to explain. I'm going to explain it to you."
"No explanations for me, thanks!" she sneered99, walking in the direction of the hearth100. "I'd sooner hear anything, anything, than your explanations." She seemed to shudder101.
He nerved himself.
"I tell you I found that money," he cried, recommencing.
"Well, good-bye," she said, moving to the door. "You don't seem to understand."
At the same moment there was a knock at the door.
"Come in, Mrs. Tarns," said Rachel calmly.
"She mustn't come in now," Louis protested.
"Come in, Mrs. Tams," Rachel repeated decisively.
And Mrs. Tams entered, curtsying towards the bed.
"What is it?" Rachel asked her.
"It's the greengrocer's cart, ma'am." The greengrocer usually did send round on Saturday mornings.
"I'll go down. Just clear up that washstand, will you?"
It was remarkable102 to Louis how chance would favour a woman in an altercation103. But he had decided, even if somewhat hysterically104, to submit to no more delay, and to end the altercation—and moreover, to end it in his own way.
"Rachel!" he called. Several times he called her name, more and more loudly. He ignored what was due to servants, to greengrocers, and to the dignity of employers. He kept on calling.
"Shall I fetch missis, sir?" Mrs. Tams suggested at length.
He nodded. Mrs. Tams departed, laden105. Certainly the fat creature, from whom nothing could be hid by a younger generation, had divined that strife106 had supervened on illness, and that great destinies hung upon the issue. Neither Mrs. Tams nor Rachel returned to the bedroom. Louis began again to call for Rachel, and then to yell for her. He could feel that the effort was exhausting him, but he was determined to vanquish107 her.
IV
Without a sound she startlingly appeared in the room.
"What's the matter?" she inquired, with her irritating assumption of tranquillity108.
"You know what's the matter."
"I wish you wouldn't scream like a baby," she said.
"You know I want to speak to you, and you're keeping out of the way on purpose."
Rachel said—
"Look here, Louis! Do you want me to leave the house altogether?"
He thought—
"What is she saying? We've only been married a few weeks. This is getting serious."
Aloud he answered—
"Of course I don't want you to leave the house."
"Well, then, don't say any more. Because if you do, I shall. I've heard all I want to hear. There are some things I can bear, and some I can't bear."
"If you don't listen—!" he exclaimed. "I'm warning you!"
She glanced at the thief in him, and at the coward penitent109 of the night, with the most desolating110 disdain73, and left the room. That was her answer to his warning.
"All right, my girl! All right!" he said to himself, when she had gone, pulling together his self-esteem, his self-pity, and his masculinity. "You'll regret this. You see if you don't. As to leaving the house, we shall see who'll leave the house. Wait till I'm on my legs again. If there is to be a scandal, there shall be a scandal."
One thing was absolutely sure—he could not and would not endure her contumely, nor even her indifferent scorn. For him to live with it would be ridiculous as well as impossible. He was weak, but two facts gave him enormous strength. First, he loved her less than she loved him, and hence she was at a disadvantage. But supposing her passion for him was destroyed? Then the second fact came into play. He had money. He had thousands of pounds, loose, available! To such a nature as his the control of money gives a sense of everlasting security. Already he dreamt of freedom, of roaming the wide world, subject to no yoke111 but a bachelor's whim112.
《How to Live on 24 Hours a Day》
《How to Live on 24 Hours a Day》
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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doomed
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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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inept
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| adj.不恰当的，荒谬的，拙劣的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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query
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solely
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condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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curtly
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bent
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indifference
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exquisitely
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consolation
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positively
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daunted
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paramount
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cowardice
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peculiar
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appreciation
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grandiosity
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martyr
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repentant
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abjection
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obsequiousness
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obstinate
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utterly
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excellence
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aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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languished
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| 长期受苦( languish的过去式和过去分词 )； 受折磨； 变得（越来越）衰弱； 因渴望而变得憔悴或闷闷不乐 | |
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alterations
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ingenuity
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candidly
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placating
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| v.安抚，抚慰，使平静( placate的现在分词 ) | |
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omnipotence
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entailing
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| 使…成为必要( entail的现在分词 )； 需要； 限定继承； 使必需 | |
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dire
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arraignment
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possessed
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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authoritative
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defender
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iconoclastic
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| adj.偶像破坏的，打破旧习的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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plebeians
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| n.平民( plebeian的名词复数 )；庶民；平民百姓；平庸粗俗的人 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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reassurances
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| n.消除恐惧或疑虑( reassurance的名词复数 )；恢复信心；使人消除恐惧或疑虑的事物；使人恢复信心的事物 | |
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infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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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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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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prodded
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| v.刺，戳( prod的过去式和过去分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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exonerating
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| v.使免罪，免除( exonerate的现在分词 ) | |
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rehabilitating
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| 改造（罪犯等）( rehabilitate的现在分词 )； 使恢复正常生活； 使恢复原状； 修复 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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exculpatory
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| adj.辩解的，辩明无罪的 | |
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monstrously
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beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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dressings
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| n.敷料剂；穿衣( dressing的名词复数 )；穿戴；（拌制色拉的）调料；（保护伤口的）敷料 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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feign
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| vt.假装，佯作 | |
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lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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rummaging
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的现在分词 )； 海关检查 | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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frigid
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| adj.寒冷的，凛冽的；冷淡的；拘禁的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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abraded
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| adj.[医]刮擦的v.刮擦( abrade的过去式和过去分词 )；（在精神方面）折磨（人）；消磨（意志、精神等）；使精疲力尽 | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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100
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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101
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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102
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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103
altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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104
hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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105
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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vanquish
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| v.征服，战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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108
tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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109
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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110
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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111
yoke
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| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
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112
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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