THE man and the woman in the alcove1 on the right had been talking a long while. Three times the waiter had looked in and withdrawn2. If he had stopped long enough he would have seen that it seemed to be the woman who was talking. The man sat silent, one hand shading his eyes and the eyes looking out at her as she talked.
The waiter knew the woman. He had served her—many times. He remembered very well the first day she came to Merwin’s—a year ago—more than a year, perhaps. She was alone, and she had stood just inside the swinging door—looking about her as if she were not used to places like Merwin’s—or as if she were afraid. Something had made him think that she was looking for some one—and he had shown her into the third alcove on the right. But no one had come that day. She had come again many times since, and always alone, and there was always a coin on the table in the third alcove waiting for him.
The waiter was a little disappointed to-day.... He knew the man—Eldridge Walcott—a lawyer—a good enough sort; but the waiter somehow felt that they had not met until today. He had served them both alone—but not together—until to-day.... He pushed aside the curtain and looked in.
She was still talking.... The man made a little gesture of refusal, and he withdrew....
“It was when Tom sent me the five hundred—” the waiter heard her say as the curtain fell in place.
The man in the alcove behind the curtain was looking at her—“When did Tom send you—five hundred?”
“A year ago—a little more than a year, I think—” She paused to think it out. “He had not sent us anything, you know—not since little Tom was born—?” She was looking at him, straight——
His own look did not flinch3. “I know—I put it into the business—called it investing it—for Tommie—at six per cent.”
She nodded. “Tom never liked it. I suppose mother told him—that we had not used it to buy things with—the way he meant us to.”
“For things you needed,” said the man. “I know—I knew then—but I took it.” He did not excuse himself—and his eyes did not look away from her. “I was blind,” he said softly.
“That was what Tom wrote—when he sent the five hundred. He said that I must spend it on myself—or return it to him.... And that I was to tell him just what I bought with it—every penny of it—” She waited a minute.
“Did he say anything else?” asked the man. “Better tell me everything, wouldn’t you—Rosalind?”
“He said that he was not setting Eldridge Walcott up in business,” she added after a little minute—and she smiled at him tenderly.
Eldridge returned the look—“We don’t mind—now.”
“No.”... They were silent a few minutes. “I thought—at first—I would send it back. I wrote to Tom how many things we needed—for the house—and the children—and for everything—”
“What did he say?”
“He asked me if you would let me spend it for the house and for the children and for everything—if you knew about it?”
The man’s eyes were looking at Mr. Eldridge Walcott, regarding him impartially4. “I am glad that you did not let me know.”
“Yes. I sent it back—once. But Tom wrote again—all about when we were children and when he gave me the biggest bites of candy and filled my pail up to the top when we went berrying——-He said it was what had made a man of him—keeping my pail full.”
Eldridge winced5 a little. But she did not stop. “He said he wanted me to spend the money for the little girl he knew.
“I didn’t spend it—not for a long time, you know. But I kept it and I looked at it—sometimes—and wondered.... Then one day I saw a dress—that I liked. I thought it was like me, a little—?” She looked at him———
He nodded.
“So I got it—and that was the end, I guess.” She laughed tremulously. “Everything kept coming after that. The dress seemed to make me need— everything!” She spread out her hands.
Then she sat thinking—and looking at the dress that needed everything. “I wore it at first just at home—when I was alone. I would put it on and sit down and fold my hands—and think of things... about Tom and about being a little girl—and about mother. I was always rested when I took it off... and when the children came in from school and you came home, I could bear things better.”....
He reached out a hand and touched hers where it lay on the table.... He had said that he should touch it—some time. He stroked it a minute and she went on.
“Then I came here—” She made a little gesture. “I didn’t know what it was like—I didn’t even know there was a place like this.” She glanced around the alcove that sheltered them—with its folds of green curtain—“But as soon as I came, I knew I should come again. I knew it would take care of me—the way Tom wanted for me. So I spent the money.” She lifted the little linked purse from the table—she laughed. “Only fifty cents left—You ’re here just in time!”
Eldridge held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
She looked at him.
“I want it—yes. Aren’t you willing to give me fifty cents—of your five hundred?”
She handed it to him with a little sigh of relief.
He took it and balanced it thoughtfully in his hand—“Why did you come to-day?” he asked.
“This is my anniversary day.”
“To-day?”
She nodded—as if she saw a vision. “It is a year to-day that I came here—the first time.”
“Alone—?” The word breathed itself—and stopped, and Eldridge put out a hand. “Don’t tell me! I did not ask it.”
“Don’t you know?” She was looking at him.
“Yes, I know. I do not understand—but I know.”
She smiled and sat silent.... “I was frightened to come!” It seemed as if she were looking at the strangeness of it. “I was afraid—the first day—”
“You should have asked me to come,” he urged.
“Would you have come?”
“No—not then.”
“And I had to come! I could not wait—and there was—no one.... You would not have come—not even if I had waited.”
“No—I should not have come—except to find you.... Tell me, have you never been afraid of me—of what I would do?”
“The first day—yes—I was terribly frightened when you came in and sat over there,” she moved her hand. “I wanted to scream out—to go to you and tell you what it meant, and beg you not to be angry.... I had never done anything without you before. I was like a child! Then you went out and I hurried home. I tore off the things. I did not mind your knowing. I only wanted you to understand. I was afraid you might not—understand.”
“I didn’t—”
“No—I know. But after a while—I knew you were trying to.... Then I knew that some day we should be here—together.”
The little alcove seemed to expand and become a wide place—Eldridge caught a glimpse of something fine and sincere—it passed like a breath over her face and was gone.
She lifted the face—“I have waited for it,” she said. “I have prayed for it every day, I think.” Her lips barely moved the words—“I did not want to feel alone here.”
Eldridge gave his order and looked on, smiling, while the waiter placed the slender-necked flask7 on the table and brought out the glasses and withdrew.
They lifted the glasses. “To the day—you left me,” he said. “And to the day I followed you,” he added slowly.
The glass paused in her hand. “That was the Symphony—?”
“Yes—And to your anniversary!”
She set down the glass. “I have not told you everything. It was not—my anniversary—made me come—to-day.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “I came—to meet—you!” she said.
He looked at her slowly—“And when did you know that I would come?” he asked.
“Last night—in the moonlight. I was so afraid you would speak there—in the moon! I did not want the moon to get in,” she said. “I wanted you to speak in real, plain daylight—and then, of course, you know, it’s Tom’s gown and not the moon. Everybody has the moon!” she laughed.
“This is a very little place, this alcove,” said Eldridge. He was looking about him at the green walls of the alcove—thinking of the sun and the fields and of the road up through the hills——
“But it’s where I went berrying with Tom,” she laughed.
He smiled at her. “Then it is as big as the world—and the sun and all the fields of the sun!” he said.
Outside the curtain the music tinkled8 dimly, and there was a lower music still of all the glasses and words—and there was a silence in the alcove.
“So there has never been any one—any one but me—” he said, “in your alcove!” He was looking at her hap-pily.
“No.” Her lip waited on it—and closed. “There was some one—” she spoke9 slowly. “It seems a queer thing to tell. It had no beginning and no end!” She waited, still looking at it.... “It was a man—an old man—that used to sit over there to the left, at a table by himself. I could see him through the curtains. Even when they were almost closed I could see him. He always sat there, and always alone.... I did not notice him at first.... I do not think any one would have noticed him—at first. He was almost ugly—or he seemed ugly.” She was smiling at her thought.... “And one day suddenly I saw him as he really was, as he was inside—very gentle and strong and wise—and not wanting to hurt any one or to let any one suffer—more than they had to. I knew, some way, if I should go up to him and speak to him, that he would understand me—and help me. I should have liked to—speak to him. Of course it is really the same as if I did.”... She seemed thinking of it. “But I didn’t. I never saw him more than a dozen times, I suppose. But I used to think about him, and it helped me. I should have trusted him anywhere—and been willing to go with him—anywhere in the world. I don’t believe he was very clever—but it rested me to think of him—just as a big, homely10 field rests you—and the way the music did that first night—when we knew each other——-”
After a minute she went on. “I have not seen him for a long time. He stopped coming suddenly....”
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1
alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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2
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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3
flinch
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| v.畏缩，退缩 | |
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4
impartially
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| adv.公平地，无私地 | |
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5
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
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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7
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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8
tinkled
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| （使）发出丁当声，（使）发铃铃声( tinkle的过去式和过去分词 )； 叮当响着发出，铃铃响着报出 | |
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9
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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10
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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