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XXII “WHAT DID YOU SEE?”
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 “What did you see—boy?” Philip Harris stood with his legs well apart, looking at him.
 
The boy answered quickly, his quick gesture running to the picture above them, and filling out his words. He had gathered the story of the child as the mother had gathered his—and his voice trembled a little, but it did not falter1 in the broken words.
 
Philip Harris glanced up. The rain on the skylight had ceased, but the room was full of dusk. “There is not time,” he said, “to-night—You must rest now, and have your dinner and go to bed. To-morrow there will be men to question you. You must tell them what you have told us.”
 
“I tell them,” said the boy simply, “—what I see.”
 
So the boy slept quietly... and through the night, messages ran beneath the ground, they leaped out and struck wires—and laughed. Men bent2 their heads to listen... and spoke3 softly and hurried. Cars thrust themselves forth4, striking at the miles—their great bulk sliding on. The world was awake—gathering itself... toward the boy.
 
In the morning they questioned him—they set down his answers with quick, sharp jerks that asked for more. And the boy repeated faithfully all that he had told; and the surgeon sitting beside him watched with keen eyes—and smiled.... The boy would hold. He was sound. But they must be careful... and after a little he sent him into the garden to work—while the men compared notes and sent despatches and the story travelled into the world, tallying5 itself against the face of every rogue6. But there were no faces that matched it—no faces such as the boy had cherished with minute care... as if the features had been stamped—one flashing stroke—upon his brain, and disappeared. There could be no doubt of them—the description of the child was perfect—red cherries, grey coat—and floating curls. He seemed to see the face before him as he talked—and the face of the big man at her left, with red moustache and sharp chin—and the smaller man beside her, who had clapped his hand across her mouth and glared at the boy on the ground—his eyes were black—yes, and he wore a cap—pulled down, and collar up—you only saw the eyes—black as—The boy had looked about him a minute, and pointed7 to the shoes of the chief of police gleaming in the sunlight—patent leathers, and dress suit, hurried away from a political banquet the night before. The men smiled and the pencils raced.... There had been another man who drove the machine, but the boy had not noticed him—his swift glance had taken in only the child, it seemed, and the faces that framed her.
 
A little later they drove into the city—the boy accompanying them, and the surgeon and Achilles, who had hurried out with the first news and had listened to his son’s story with dark, silent eyes. He sat in the car close to Alcibiades, one hand on the back of the seat, the other on the boy’s hand. Through the long miles they did not speak. The boy seemed resting in his father’s strength. It was only when they reached the scene of his disaster that he roused himself and pointed with quick finger—to the place where he had fallen.... He was pushing his cart—so—and he looked up—quick—and his cart went—so!—and all his fruit, and he was down—looking up—and the car went by, close.... Which way?—He could not tell that—no.... He shut his eyes—his face grew pale. He could not tell.
 
The street forked here—it might have been either way—by swerving8 a little. And the police looked wise and took notes and reporters photographed the spot and before night a crowd had gathered about it, peering hopefully at the pavement where Alcibiades had lain, and pointing with eager fingers to bits of peel—orange and banana—scattered by the last passer-by, and gazing at dark stains on the pavement—something that might be marks of blood—after ten weeks of rain and mud and dust!
 
Achilles and the boy returned to the shop. “I want to go home,” the boy had said, as the car turned away, “I—go—home—with you, father.” So they had drawn9 up at the little fruit shop; and Yaxis in the door, his teeth gleaming, had darted10 out to meet them, hovering11 about them and helping12 his brother up the stairs and out to the verandah that ran across the windows at the rear. Down below, in tin-can backyards of the neighbours, old bottles and piles of broken lumber13 filled the place; but along the edge of the verandah, boxes of earth had been set, and the vines ran to the top, shutting out the glare of the brick walls opposite and making a cool spot in the blank heat.
 
Alcibiades looked at the vines with happy eyes. “They grow,” he said softly.
 
Yaxis nodded and produced a pot of forget-me-nots. He had been tending them for three weeks—for Alcie. They bent over the pot, blue with blossoms, talking eager words and little gestures and quick laughs. And Achilles, coming out, smiled at the two heads bending above the plant. Yaxis had been lonely—but now the little laughs seemed to stir softly in the close rooms and wake something happy there.
 
“What did you see—boy?” Philip Harris stood with his legs well apart, looking at him.
 
The boy answered quickly, his quick gesture running to the picture above them, and filling out his words. He had gathered the story of the child as the mother had gathered his—and his voice trembled a little, but it did not falter in the broken words.
 
Philip Harris glanced up. The rain on the skylight had ceased, but the room was full of dusk. “There is not time,” he said, “to-night—You must rest now, and have your dinner and go to bed. To-morrow there will be men to question you. You must tell them what you have told us.”
 
“I tell them,” said the boy simply, “—what I see.”
 
So the boy slept quietly... and through the night, messages ran beneath the ground, they leaped out and struck wires—and laughed. Men bent their heads to listen... and spoke softly and hurried. Cars thrust themselves forth, striking at the miles—their great bulk sliding on. The world was awake—gathering itself... toward the boy.
 
In the morning they questioned him—they set down his answers with quick, sharp jerks that asked for more. And the boy repeated faithfully all that he had told; and the surgeon sitting beside him watched with keen eyes—and smiled.... The boy would hold. He was sound. But they must be careful... and after a little he sent him into the garden to work—while the men compared notes and sent despatches and the story travelled into the world, tallying itself against the face of every rogue. But there were no faces that matched it—no faces such as the boy had cherished with minute care... as if the features had been stamped—one flashing stroke—upon his brain, and disappeared. There could be no doubt of them—the description of the child was perfect—red cherries, grey coat—and floating curls. He seemed to see the face before him as he talked—and the face of the big man at her left, with red moustache and sharp chin—and the smaller man beside her, who had clapped his hand across her mouth and glared at the boy on the ground—his eyes were black—yes, and he wore a cap—pulled down, and collar up—you only saw the eyes—black as—The boy had looked about him a minute, and pointed to the shoes of the chief of police gleaming in the sunlight—patent leathers, and dress suit, hurried away from a political banquet the night before. The men smiled and the pencils raced.... There had been another man who drove the machine, but the boy had not noticed him—his swift glance had taken in only the child, it seemed, and the faces that framed her.
 
A little later they drove into the city—the boy accompanying them, and the surgeon and Achilles, who had hurried out with the first news and had listened to his son’s story with dark, silent eyes. He sat in the car close to Alcibiades, one hand on the back of the seat, the other on the boy’s hand. Through the long miles they did not speak. The boy seemed resting in his father’s strength. It was only when they reached the scene of his disaster that he roused himself and pointed with quick finger—to the place where he had fallen.... He was pushing his cart—so—and he looked up—quick—and his cart went—so!—and all his fruit, and he was down—looking up—and the car went by, close.... Which way?—He could not tell that—no.... He shut his eyes—his face grew pale. He could not tell.
 
The street forked here—it might have been either way—by swerving a little. And the police looked wise and took notes and reporters photographed the spot and before night a crowd had gathered about it, peering hopefully at the pavement where Alcibiades had lain, and pointing with eager fingers to bits of peel—orange and banana—scattered by the last passer-by, and gazing at dark stains on the pavement—something that might be marks of blood—after ten weeks of rain and mud and dust!
 
Achilles and the boy returned to the shop. “I want to go home,” the boy had said, as the car turned away, “I—go—home—with you, father.” So they had drawn up at the little fruit shop; and Yaxis in the door, his teeth gleaming, had darted out to meet them, hovering about them and helping his brother up the stairs and out to the verandah that ran across the windows at the rear. Down below, in tin-can backyards of the neighbours, old bottles and piles of broken lumber filled the place; but along the edge of the verandah, boxes of earth had been set, and the vines ran to the top, shutting out the glare of the brick walls opposite and making a cool spot in the blank heat.
 
Alcibiades looked at the vines with happy eyes. “They grow,” he said softly.
 
Yaxis nodded and produced a pot of forget-me-nots. He had been tending them for three weeks—for Alcie. They bent over the pot, blue with blossoms, talking eager words and little gestures and quick laughs. And Achilles, coming out, smiled at the two heads bending above the plant. Yaxis had been lonely—but now the little laughs seemed to stir softly in the close rooms and wake something happy there.
 
 

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1 falter qhlzP     
vi.(嗓音)颤抖,结巴地说;犹豫;蹒跚
参考例句:
  • His voice began to falter.他的声音开始发颤。
  • As he neared the house his steps faltered.当他走近房子时,脚步迟疑了起来。
2 bent QQ8yD     
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的
参考例句:
  • He was fully bent upon the project.他一心扑在这项计划上。
  • We bent over backward to help them.我们尽了最大努力帮助他们。
3 spoke XryyC     
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:
  • They sourced the spoke nuts from our company.他们的轮辐螺帽是从我们公司获得的。
  • The spokes of a wheel are the bars that connect the outer ring to the centre.辐条是轮子上连接外圈与中心的条棒。
4 forth Hzdz2     
adv.向前;向外,往外
参考例句:
  • The wind moved the trees gently back and forth.风吹得树轻轻地来回摇晃。
  • He gave forth a series of works in rapid succession.他很快连续发表了一系列的作品。
5 tallying 15a874f08059a9770f1372b280d6754d     
v.计算,清点( tally的现在分词 );加标签(或标记)于;(使)符合;(使)吻合
参考例句:
  • In 2007 the state set a U.S. record, tallying 141 twisters. 该州在2007年以总计出现了141个龙卷风而创下了一个美国记录。 来自互联网
  • We charge extra fee at 100% of the rates of tallying fees. 我们按理货收费率的100%收取附加费。 来自互联网
6 rogue qCfzo     
n.流氓;v.游手好闲
参考例句:
  • The little rogue had his grandpa's glasses on.这淘气鬼带上了他祖父的眼镜。
  • They defined him as a rogue.他们确定他为骗子。
7 pointed Il8zB4     
adj.尖的,直截了当的
参考例句:
  • He gave me a very sharp pointed pencil.他给我一支削得非常尖的铅笔。
  • She wished to show Mrs.John Dashwood by this pointed invitation to her brother.她想通过对达茨伍德夫人提出直截了当的邀请向她的哥哥表示出来。
8 swerving 2985a28465f4fed001065d9efe723271     
v.(使)改变方向,改变目的( swerve的现在分词 )
参考例句:
  • It may stand as an example of the fitful swerving of his passion. 这是一个例子,说明他的情绪往往变化不定,忽冷忽热。 来自辞典例句
  • Mrs Merkel would be foolish to placate her base by swerving right. 默克尔夫人如果为了安抚她的根基所在而转到右翼就太愚蠢了。 来自互联网
9 drawn MuXzIi     
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的
参考例句:
  • All the characters in the story are drawn from life.故事中的所有人物都取材于生活。
  • Her gaze was drawn irresistibly to the scene outside.她的目光禁不住被外面的风景所吸引。
10 darted d83f9716cd75da6af48046d29f4dd248     
v.投掷,投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 );向前冲,飞奔
参考例句:
  • The lizard darted out its tongue at the insect. 蜥蜴伸出舌头去吃小昆虫。 来自《简明英汉词典》
  • The old man was displeased and darted an angry look at me. 老人不高兴了,瞪了我一眼。 来自《简明英汉词典》
11 hovering 99fdb695db3c202536060470c79b067f     
鸟( hover的现在分词 ); 靠近(某事物); (人)徘徊; 犹豫
参考例句:
  • The helicopter was hovering about 100 metres above the pad. 直升机在离发射台一百米的上空盘旋。
  • I'm hovering between the concert and the play tonight. 我犹豫不决今晚是听音乐会还是看戏。
12 helping 2rGzDc     
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的
参考例句:
  • The poor children regularly pony up for a second helping of my hamburger. 那些可怜的孩子们总是要求我把我的汉堡包再给他们一份。
  • By doing this, they may at times be helping to restore competition. 这样一来, 他在某些时候,有助于竞争的加强。
13 lumber a8Jz6     
n.木材,木料;v.以破旧东西堆满;伐木;笨重移动
参考例句:
  • The truck was sent to carry lumber.卡车被派出去运木材。
  • They slapped together a cabin out of old lumber.他们利用旧木料草草地盖起了一间小屋。


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