Her hat, gauzily basking3 with a pair of long white gloves on one of his arm-chairs, proclaimed that she had come to stay.
Nor did she rise. Propped4 on one elbow, with heaving bosom5 and parted lips, she seemed to be trying to realise what had been done to her. Through her undried tears her eyes shone up to him.
He asked: “To what am I indebted for this visit?”
“Ah, say that again!” she murmured. “Your voice is music.”
He repeated his question.
“Music!” she said dreamily; and such is the force of habit that “I don’t,” she added, “know anything about music, really. But I know what I like.”
“Had you not better get up from the floor?” he said. “The door is open, and any one who passed might see you.”
Softly she stroked the carpet with the palms of her hands. “Happy carpet!” she crooned. “Aye, happy the very women that wove the threads that are trod by the feet of my beloved master. But hark! he bids his slave rise and stand before him!”
“I beg pardon, your Grace; Mother wants to know, will you be lunching in?”
“Yes,” said the Duke. “I will ring when I am ready.” And it dawned on him that this girl, who perhaps loved him, was, according to all known standards, extraordinarily8 pretty.
“Will—” she hesitated, “will Miss Dobson be—”
“No,” he said. “I shall be alone.” And there was in the girl’s parting half-glance at Zuleika that which told him he was truly loved, and made him the more impatient of his offensive and accursed visitor.
“You want to be rid of me?” asked Zuleika, when the girl was gone.
“I have no wish to be rude; but—since you force me to say it—yes.”
“Then take me,” she cried, throwing back her arms, “and throw me out of the window.”
He smiled coldly.
“You think I don’t mean it? You think I would struggle? Try me.” She let herself droop9 sideways, in an attitude limp and portable. “Try me,” she repeated.
“All this is very well conceived, no doubt,” said he, “and well executed. But it happens to be otiose10.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you may set your mind at rest. I am not going to back out of my promise.”
Zuleika flushed. “You are cruel. I would give the world and all not to have written you that hateful letter. Forget it, forget it, for pity’s sake!”
The Duke looked searchingly at her. “You mean that you now wish to release me from my promise?”
“Release you? As if you were ever bound! Don’t torture me!”
He wondered what deep game she was playing. Very real, though, her anguish11 seemed; and, if real it was, then—he stared, he gasped—there could be but one explanation. He put it to her. “You love me?”
“With all my soul.”
His heart leapt. If she spoke12 truth, then indeed vengeance13 was his! But “What proof have I?” he asked her.
“Proof? Have men absolutely NO intuition? If you need proof, produce it. Where are my ear-rings?”
“Your ear-rings? Why?”
Impatiently she pointed14 to two white pearls that fastened the front of her blouse. “These are your studs. It was from them I had the great first hint this morning.”
“Black and pink, were they not, when you took them?”
“Of course. And then I forgot that I had them. When I undressed, they must have rolled on to the carpet. Melisande found them this morning when she was making the room ready for me to dress. That was just after she came back from bringing you my first letter. I was bewildered. I doubted. Might not the pearls have gone back to their natural state simply through being yours no more? That is why I wrote again to you, my own darling—a frantic15 little questioning letter. When I heard how you had torn it up, I knew, I knew that the pearls had not mocked me. I telescoped my toilet and came rushing round to you. How many hours have I been waiting for you?”
The Duke had drawn16 her ear-rings from his waistcoat pocket, and was contemplating17 them in the palm of his hand. Blanched18, both of them, yes. He laid them on the table. “Take them,” he said.
“No,” she shuddered19. “I could never forget that once they were both black.” She flung them into the fender. “Oh John,” she cried, turning to him and falling again to her knees, “I do so want to forget what I have been. I want to atone20. You think you can drive me out of your life. You cannot, darling—since you won’t kill me. Always I shall follow you on my knees, thus.”
He looked down at her over his folded arms,
“I am not going to back out of my promise,” he repeated.
She stopped her ears.
With a stern joy he unfolded his arms, took some papers from his breast-pocket, and, selecting one of them, handed it to her. It was the telegram sent by his steward21.
She read it. With a stern joy he watched her reading it.
He had not foreseen this. “Help!” he vaguely23 cried—was she not a fellow-creature?—and rushed blindly out to his bedroom, whence he returned, a moment later, with the water-jug. He dipped his hand, and sprinkled the upturned face (Dew-drops on a white rose? But some other, sharper analogy hovered24 to him). He dipped and sprinkled. The water-beads broke, mingled—rivulets now. He dipped and flung, then caught the horrible analogy and rebounded25.
It was at this moment that Zuleika opened her eyes. “Where am I?” She weakly raised herself on one elbow; and the suspension of the Duke’s hatred26 would have been repealed27 simultaneously28 with that of her consciousness, had it not already been repealed by the analogy. She put a hand to her face, then looked at the wet palm wonderingly, looked at the Duke, saw the water-jug beside him. She, too, it seemed, had caught the analogy; for with a wan7 smile she said “We are quits now, John, aren’t we?”
Her poor little jest drew to the Duke’s face no answering smile, did but make hotter the blush there. The wave of her returning memory swept on—swept up to her with a roar the instant past. “Oh,” she cried, staggering to her feet, “the owls29, the owls!”
Vengeance was his, and “Yes, there,” he said, “is the ineluctable hard fact you wake to. The owls have hooted30. The gods have spoken. This day your wish is to be fulfilled.”
“The owls have hooted. The gods have spoken. This day—oh, it must not be, John! Heaven have mercy on me!”
“The unerring owls have hooted. The dispiteous and humorous gods have spoken. Miss Dobson, it has to be. And let me remind you,” he added, with a glance at his watch, “that you ought not to keep The MacQuern waiting for luncheon31.”
“That is unworthy of you,” she said. There was in her eyes a look that made the words sound as if they had been spoken by a dumb animal.
“You have sent him an excuse?”
“No, I have forgotten him.”
“That is unworthy of you. After all, he is going to die for you, like the rest of us. I am but one of a number, you know. Use your sense of proportion.”
“If I do that,” she said after a pause, “you may not be pleased by the issue. I may find that whereas yesterday I was great in my sinfulness, and to-day am great in my love, you, in your hate of me, are small. I may find that what I had taken to be a great indifference32 is nothing but a very small hate... Ah, I have wounded you? Forgive me, a weak woman, talking at random33 in her wretchedness. Oh John, John, if I thought you small, my love would but take on the crown of pity. Don’t forbid me to call you John. I looked you up in Debrett while I was waiting for you. That seemed to bring you nearer to me. So many other names you have, too. I remember you told me them all yesterday, here in this room—not twenty-four hours ago. Hours? Years!” She laughed hysterically34. “John, don’t you see why I won’t stop talking? It’s because I dare not think.”
“Yonder in Balliol,” he suavely35 said, “you will find the matter of my death easier to forget than here.” He took her hat and gloves from the arm-chair, and held them carefully out to her; but she did not take them.
“I give you three minutes,” he told her. “Two minutes, that is, in which to make yourself tidy before the mirror. A third in which to say good-bye and be outside the front-door.”
“If I refuse?”
“You will not.”
“If I do?”
“I shall send for a policeman.”
She looked well at him. “Yes,” she slowly said, “I think you would do that.”
She took her things from him, and laid them by the mirror. With a high hand she quelled36 the excesses of her hair—some of the curls still agleam with water—and knowingly poised37 and pinned her hat. Then, after a few swift touches and passes at neck and waist, she took her gloves and, wheeling round to him, “There!” she said, “I have been quick.”
“Admirably,” he allowed.
“Quick in more than meets the eye, John. Spiritually quick. You saw me putting on my hat; you did not see love taking on the crown of pity, and me bonneting her with it, tripping her up and trampling38 the life out of her. Oh, a most cold-blooded business, John! Had to be done, though. No other way out. So I just used my sense of proportion, as you rashly bade me, and then hardened my heart at sight of you as you are. One of a number? Yes, and a quite unlovable unit. So I am all right again. And now, where is Balliol? Far from here?”
“No,” he answered, choking a little, as might a card-player who, having been dealt a splendid hand, and having played it with flawless skill, has yet—damn it!—lost the odd trick. “Balliol is quite near. At the end of this street in fact. I can show it to you from the front-door.”
Yes, he had controlled himself. But this, he furiously felt, did not make him look the less a fool. What ought he to have SAID? He prayed, as he followed the victorious39 young woman downstairs, that l’esprit de l’escalier might befall him. Alas40, it did not.
“By the way,” she said, when he had shown her where Balliol lay, “have you told anybody that you aren’t dying just for me?”
“No,” he answered, “I have preferred not to.”
“Then officially, as it were, and in the eyes of the world, you die for me? Then all’s well that ends well. Shall we say good-bye here? I shall be on the Judas Barge41; but I suppose there will be a crush, as yesterday?”
“Sure to be. There always is on the last night of the Eights, you know. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye, little John—small John,” she cried across her shoulder, having the last word.
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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
veering
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| n.改变的；犹豫的；顺时针方向转向；特指使船尾转向上风来改变航向v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的现在分词 )；（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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3
basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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4
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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5
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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6
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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7
wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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8
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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9
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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10
otiose
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| adj.无效的，没有用的 | |
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11
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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12
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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13
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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14
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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16
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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17
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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18
blanched
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| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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19
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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20
atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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21
steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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22
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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24
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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25
rebounded
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| 弹回( rebound的过去式和过去分词 )； 反弹； 产生反作用； 未能奏效 | |
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26
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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27
repealed
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| 撤销，废除( repeal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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29
owls
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| n.猫头鹰( owl的名词复数 ) | |
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30
hooted
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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32
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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33
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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34
hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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35
suavely
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36
quelled
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| v.（用武力）制止，结束，镇压( quell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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37
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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38
trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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39
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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40
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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41
barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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