The night slowly deepened, impregnating the gray atmosphere with a velvety1 depth of shadow that oozed2 through it like an infusion3 of a darker, denser4 element. Lights came out. First sporadically5, here and there blooming through the opaque6 dusk, not suddenly, but with an effect of gradualness, as though the air was so thick it took some time to break through it. Then came more. Rows of windows appeared in long, magnified sputters7. All round the plaza8 there was a suggestion of effaced9 brightness, as of a painting which had once been sharply outlined and brilliant but was now rubbed into a formless, impressionist study of shadows and undefined, yellow blurs10. The golden halos of lamps blotted11 the dark at intervals12, and now and then the figures, which had occupied the benches, passed into the circles[433] of vaporous illumination, and passed out of them, as if they had been crossing the stage of a theater.
Berny did not move and did not notice the increasing chill of the hour or the moisture beading on her clothes like wintry rime13. She was sunk in an abyss of thought, a suspended trance of contemplation, of receptivity to new ideas. In one hour her basic estimate of human nature, her accepted measurement of motives14 and standards, had been suddenly upset. Her point of view was like a kaleidoscope, which is unexpectedly turned. Sitting motionless on the bench she saw the familiar aspect of life fallen into new shapes, taking on alien forms.
She realized that Dominick had never been happy with her, and, for the first time, she understood the gulf15 between them. She saw what the life was that he had wanted to lead, and that he could have led with the other woman. It would have been that very form of existence which Berny had always derided16, and thought an outward expression of the inward dullness of people who had children, looked shabby, and did not care for money. Now she felt unsure as to whether her scorn of it was not foolish and unenlightened. As in a sudden forward shoot of a search-light, she saw them—Dominick and Rose—happy in a way she had never dreamed of being happy, in a world so far from hers that she had never before had a clear look at it, a man and woman[434] concentrated upon the piece of life that belonged to them, living passionately17 for each other, indifferent to all that seemed to her of value.
She brought her mental vision back from this upon herself and felt shaken and slightly sick. Seeing beyond the circle of her own experience and sensation for the first time, she would have said to any companion who might have shared her thoughts, “No wonder Dominick didn’t get on with me!” For a dispassionately-contemplative moment she saw herself in Dominick’s eyes; she saw their married life as it had been to him. She felt sorry for both of them—for him in his forced acquiescence18 with the conditions around him, for herself because of her ignorance of all he had wanted and expected.
“I couldn’t be any different,” she whispered to herself, “that’s the way I am.”
She never could be any different. She was one kind of woman and Rose Cannon19 was another, and Dominick belonged to Rose Cannon’s kind. She did not know that it was so much better than her kind but it was different. They made her feel like an outsider in a distant world, and the feeling gave her a sensation of deadly depression. The burning heat of resentment20 that had made her speak to Rose was gone. All the burning heats and angers of the last two months seemed to belong to the past. An icy, nostalgic ache of loneliness had hold of her. The accustomed[435] sense of intimacy21 and warm, enjoying interest in the world—what we mean when we talk of “living”—had been completely drawn22 out of her.
The cold, biting in to her marrow23, at last woke her to a realization24 of her surroundings, and she sat upright, looking blinkingly to the right and left. The half-lit plaza lay like a lake of shadow surrounded by a circlet of light and girdled by noise. It was like the brightness and animation25 of the world flowing round her but not touching26 her, as she sat alone in the darkness.
She rose suddenly, determined27 to escape from her gloomy thoughts, and walked toward the upper end of the square, directing her steps to the Spanish and Italian section of the city which is called the Latin Quarter. She walked slowly, not knowing where to go, only determined that she would not go home. She thought for a moment of her sisters’, where she could have dinner and find the cheer of congenial society. But on consideration she felt that this, too, was more than she could just now bear. They would torment28 her with questions and she felt in no mood to put them off or to be confidential29. Finally she remembered a Mexican restaurant, to visit which had at one time been a fashion. She had been there with Hazel and Josh, and once in a party with some of the bank people. She knew where the place was and felt that she[436] could dine there with no fear of encountering any one she knew.
With an objective point in view, her step gained decision, and she moved forward briskly, leaving the plaza and plunging30 into the congeries of picturesque31 streets which harbor a swarming32 foreign population. The lights of shops and open stalls fell out into the fog, transforming it into thick, churning currents of smoky pallor. Wet walls and sidewalks showed a gold veneer33, and lingering drops, trembling on cornices, hung like tiny globes of thin yellow glass.
People and things looked magnified and sometimes horrible seen through this mysterious, obscuring medium. Once behind a pane34 of glass she saw lines of detached, staring eyes, fastened glaringly on her as she advanced. It was the display in an optician’s show-window, where glass eyes were disposed in fanciful lines, like a decoration. She looked at them askance, feeling that there was something sinister35 in their wide, unwinking scrutiny36. She hurried by the market stalls, where the shawled figures of women stood huddled37 round the butcher’s block. They looked as if they might be grouped round a point of interest, bending to stare at something lying there, something dreadful, like a corpse38, Berny thought.
When she saw the Mexican restaurant she felt relieved. The strange atmospheric39 conditions seemed to have played upon her nerves and she[437] was glad to get somewhere where she could find warmth and light and people. The place, a little shabby house dating from the era of the projecting shingle40 roof and encircling balcony, stood on a corner with windows on two streets. It was built upon a slope so sharp that the balcony, which in front skirted the second story, in the back was on a level with the sidewalk. The bright light of gas-jets, under shades of fluted41 white china, fell over the contents of the show-window. They were not attractive. A dish of old and shriveled oranges stood between a plate of tamales and another of red and green peppers. There were many flies in the window, and, chilled by the cold, they stood along the inside of the glass in a state of torpor42.
Berny pushed open the door and entered. The front part of the place was used as a grocery store and had a short counter at one side, behind which stood shelves piled high with the wares43 demanded by the Mexican and Spanish population. Back of this were the tables of the restaurant. The powerful, aromatic44 odors of the groceries blended with the even more powerful ones of the Mexican menu. The room was close and hot. In a corner, his back braced45 against the wall, a Spaniard, with inky hair and a large expanse of white shirt bosom46, was languidly picking at a guitar.
Berny knew that there was an inner sanctum[438] for the guests that preferred more secluded47 quarters, and walked past the counter and between the tables. An arched opening connected with this room. Coarse, dirty, lace curtains hung in the archway and, looped back against gilt48 hooks, left a space through which a glimpse of the interior was vouchsafed49 to the diners without. It was smaller than the restaurant proper, and was fitted up with an attempt at elegance50. Lace curtains—also coarse and dirty—veiled the windows, and two large mirrors, with tarnished51 and fly-spotted gilt frames, hung on the wall opposite the entrance.
Just now it was sparsely52 patronized. In one corner two women in mourning and a child were sitting. They glanced at Berny with languid curiosity and then resumed a loud and voluble conversation in Spanish. A party of three Jews, an over-dressed woman and two young men—evidently visitors from another part of town—sat near them. On the opposite side there was no one. Berny slipped noiselessly into a chair at the corner table, her back against the partition that shut off the rest of the dining-room. She felt sheltered in this unoccupied angle, despite the fact that the mirror hanging opposite gave a reflection of her to any one standing53 in the archway.
The cloth was dirty and here and there showed a hole. Her ineradicable fastidiousness was[439] strong in her even at this hour, when everything that was a manifestation54 of her own personality seemed weak and devitalized. She was disgustedly clearing away the crumbs55 of the last occupant with daintily-brushing movements of her finger-tips, when the waiter drew up beside her and demanded her order. It was part of this weird56 evening, when natural surroundings seemed to combine with her own overwrought condition to create an effect of strangeness and terror, that the waiter should have been an old, shriveled man of shabby and dejected mien57, with a defect in one eye, which rendered it abnormally large and prominent under a drooping58, reddened lid. In order to see well it was necessary for him to hold his head at a certain angle and bring the eye, staring with alarming wildness, upon the object of his attention. His aspect added still further to Berny’s dissatisfaction. She resolved to eat little and leave the place as soon as possible.
When her soup came, a thin yellow liquid in which dark bits of leaves and herbs floated, she tasted it hesitatingly, and, after a mouthful or two, put down her spoon and leaned back against the wall. She felt very tired and incapable59 of any more concentration of mind. Her thoughts seemed to float, disconnectedly and indifferently, this way and that, like a cobweb stirred by air currents and half held by a restraining thread. To her dulled sense of observation the laughter[440] of the Jewish party came mingled60 with the tinkling61 of the guitar outside, and the loud, continuous talk from the Spanish women in the corner.
The waiter brought fish—a fried smelt—and she roused herself and picked up her fork. She did not notice that a man was standing near her in the archway, the edge of the lace curtain in his hand, looking about the room. He threw a side glance at her which swept her shoulders, her hat, and her down-bent62 profile, and looked away. Then, as if something in this glimpse had suddenly touched a spring of curiosity, he looked back again. His second survey was longer. The glance he bent upon her was sharp and grew in intensity63. He made no attempt to enter or to move nearer her, but any one watching him would have seen that his interest increased with the prolongation of his scrutiny.
As if afraid of being observed he cast a quick surreptitious look over the room, which in its circuit crossed the mirror. Here, reflected from a different point of view, Berny was shown in full face, her eyes lowered, her hands moving over her plate. The man scanned the reflection with immovable intentness. Berny laid down her fork and pushed the fish away with a petulant64 movement, and the watcher drew back behind the lace curtain. Through its meshes65 he continued to stare at the mirror, his lips tightly shut, his face becoming rigid66 in the fixity of his observation.
[441]The waiter entered, his arms piled with dishes, and she made a beckoning67 gesture to him. He answered with a jerk of his head, and, going to the table where the Spanish women sat, unloaded his cargo68 there, as he set it out exchanging remarks with the women in their own language and showing no haste to answer Berny’s summons. She moved in her chair and muttered angrily. The man behind the lace curtain advanced his head and through the interstices of the drapery tried to look directly at her. In this position he could only catch a glimpse of her, but he saw her hand stretched forward to take one of the red beans from the glass saucer in the middle of the table. It was an elegant hand, the skin smooth and white, the fingers covered with rings. She again beckoned69, this time peremptorily70, and the waiter came. The listener could hear her voice distinctly as he watched her reflection in the glass.
“Why didn’t you come when I beckoned?” she said sharply.
“Because I had other people to wait on,” said the waiter with equal asperity71. “They was here before you.”
“What’s the matter with the dinner to-night? It’s all bad.”
“I ain’t cooked it,” retorted the man, growing red with indignation, his swollen72 eye glaring fiercely at her. “And no one else’s complained. I guess it’s what’s the matter with you?”
[442]Berny made an angry movement—sometimes alluded73 to as “flouncing”—and turned her head away from him.
“Get me an enchilada,” she said peremptorily, “and after that some frijoles. I don’t want anything else.”
The waiter moved away and the man behind the curtain, as if satisfied by his long survey, also turned back into the general room. Close to the opening there was an unoccupied table, and at this he sat down, laid his hat on the chair beside him, and unfastened his coat. To the servant who came for his order, he asked for a cup of black coffee and a liqueur glass of brandy. He also requested an evening paper. With the sheet open before him he sat sipping74 the coffee, the slightest noise from the inner room causing him to start and lift the paper before his face.
He sat thus for some fifteen minutes. The Spanish women and the child emerged from the archway and left the restaurant, and a few moments later he heard the scraping of chair legs and Berny’s voice as she asked for her bill. He lifted the paper and appeared buried in its contents, not moving as Berny brushed back the lace curtain and passed him. Her eyes absently fell on him and she had a vague impression of the dark dome75 of a head emerging from above the opened sheets of the journal. As she rustled76 by he lowered the paper and followed her with a keen[443] watchful77 glance. He did not move till the street door closed behind her, when he threw the paper aside, snatched up his hat and flicked78 a silver dollar on to the cloth.
“No change,” he said to the waiter, who came forward.
The surprised servant, unaccustomed to such tips, stared astonished after him as he hurried down the passage between the tables, quickly opened the door and disappeared into the darkness of the street.
Berny was only a few rods away, moving forward with a slow, loitering step. It was an easy night to follow without being observed. Walking at a prudent79 distance behind her, he kept her in sight as she passed from the smaller streets of the Latin Quarter into the glare and discord80 of the more populous81 highways, along Kearney Street, past the lower boundary of Portsmouth Square. He noticed that she walked without haste, now and then glancing at a window or a passer-by. She was like a person who has no objective point in view, or at least is in no hurry to reach it.
But this did not seem to be the case, for when she reached the square she took her stand on the corner where the Sacramento Street cars stop. The man drew back into a doorway82 opposite. They were the only passengers who boarded the car at that corner, Berny entering the closed interior, the man taking a seat on the outside.[444] He had it to himself here, and chose the end seat by the window. Muttering imprecations at the cold, he turned up his overcoat collar and drew his soft felt hat down over his ears. By turning his head he could see between the bars that cross the end windows, the interior of the car shining with light, its polished yellow woodwork throwing back the white glare of the electricity. There were only three passengers, two depressed-looking women in dingy83 black, and Berny on a line with himself in the corner by the door. He could see her even better here than in the restaurant. She sat, a small dark figure, pressed into the angle of the seat, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes down. Her hat cast a shadow over the upper part of her face, and below this the end of her nose, her mouth and chin were revealed as pale and sharply-cut as an ivory carving84. She seemed to be sunk in thought and sat motionless; the half of her face he could see, looking very white against her black fur collar.
He was furtively85 surveying her, when she started, glanced out of the window and signed to the conductor to stop. The man on the front dropped to the ground and stole lightly round the car, so that its moving body hid him from her. Emptiness and silence held the street, and he could easily follow her as she walked upward along the damp and deserted86 sidewalk. Halfway[445] up the block a building larger than those surrounding it rose into the night. A mounting file of bay-windows broke its façade, and, a few steps above the level of the pavement, a line of doors with numbers showing black on illuminated87 transoms revealed it to the man opposite as a flat building. Here Berny stopped and without hesitation88, evidently as one who was familiar with the place, mounted the steps and walked to the last of the doors.
The man, with soft and careful footsteps, crossed the street. As he drew nearer he saw that she was not using a latch-key, but was waiting to be admitted, leaning as if tired against the wall. He had reached the sidewalk when the door opened, vouchsafing89 him a bright, unimpeded view of a long flight of stairs carpeted in green. Berny entered and for a moment, before the door closed, he saw her mounting the stairs. She had not asked for any one, or indeed made a sound of greeting or inquiry90. She was therefore either expected or an habitué of the place. When the door was shut he, too, mounted the porch steps and read the number on the transom. He whispered it over several times, the light falling out on his thin, aquiline91 face with a sweep of dark hair drooping downward toward his collar.
Satisfied with his investigation92, he left the porch and walked rapidly down the street to the[446] corner. Here there was a lamp, and halting under its light he drew from his pocket a leather wallet and took therefrom Dominick Ryan’s card with an address written on it. The penciled numbers were the same as those on the door he had just left, and he stood looking fixedly93 at the card, an expression of excitement and exultation94 growing on his face.
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1
velvety
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| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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2
oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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infusion
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| n.灌输 | |
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denser
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| adj. 不易看透的, 密集的, 浓厚的, 愚钝的 | |
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sporadically
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| adv.偶发地，零星地 | |
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opaque
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| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
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7
sputters
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| n.喷溅声( sputter的名词复数 )；劈啪声；急语；咕哝v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的第三人称单数 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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8
plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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effaced
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| v.擦掉( efface的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；超越；使黯然失色 | |
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10
blurs
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| n.模糊( blur的名词复数 )；模糊之物；（移动的）模糊形状；模糊的记忆v.（使）变模糊( blur的第三人称单数 )；（使）难以区分 | |
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11
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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12
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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rime
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| n.白霜；v.使蒙霜 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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15
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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16
derided
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| v.取笑，嘲笑( deride的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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19
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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21
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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22
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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30
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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31
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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32
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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33
veneer
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| n.(墙上的)饰面，虚饰 | |
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34
pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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35
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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36
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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37
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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38
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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39
atmospheric
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| adj.大气的，空气的；大气层的；大气所引起的 | |
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40
shingle
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| n.木瓦板；小招牌(尤指医生或律师挂的营业招牌)；v.用木瓦板盖（屋顶）；把（女子头发）剪短 | |
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41
fluted
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| a.有凹槽的 | |
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42
torpor
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| n.迟钝；麻木；（动物的）冬眠 | |
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43
wares
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| n. 货物, 商品 | |
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44
aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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45
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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46
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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47
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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48
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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49
vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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50
elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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51
tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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52
sparsely
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| adv.稀疏地；稀少地；不足地；贫乏地 | |
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53
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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54
manifestation
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| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
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55
crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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56
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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petulant
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| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
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meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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asperity
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| n.粗鲁，艰苦 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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discord
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| n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐 | |
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populous
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| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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vouchsafing
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的现在分词 )；允诺 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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aquiline
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| adj.钩状的，鹰的 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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