A smooth road of bluestone with a surface like velvet3, rarely broken by badly paved or badly worn sections, ran straight south. Past mansions4 standing5 amid spacious6 lawns all ablaze7 with late summer and early autumn flowers they sped; past parks, long stretches of walls, high fences of wrought8 iron through which brief glimpses of woodlands and splendid gardens caught Rue9’s eye. And, every now and then, slowing down to traverse some village square and emerging from the further limits, the great river flashed into view, sometimes glassy still under high headlands or along towering parapets of mountains, sometimes ruffled10 and silvery where it widened into bay or inland sea, with a glimmer11 of distant villages on the further shore.
Over the western bank a blinding sun hung in a sky without a cloud—a sky of undiluted azure12; but farther south, and as the sun declined, traces of vapours from the huge but still distant city stained the heavens. Gradually the increasing haze13 changed from palest lavender and lemon-gold to violet and rose with smouldering undertones of fire. Beneath it the river caught the stains in deeper tones, flowing in sombre washes of flame 103or spreading wide under pastel tints14 of turquoise15 set with purple.
Now, as the sun hung lower, the smoke of every river boat, every locomotive speeding along the shores below, lay almost motionless above the water, tinged16 with the delicate enchantment17 of declining day.
And into this magic veil Rue was passing already through the calm of a late August afternoon, through tree-embowered villages and towns, the names of which she did not know—swiftly, inexorably passing into the iris-grey obscurity where already the silvery points of arc-lights stretched away into intricate geometrical designs—faint traceries as yet sparkling with subdued18 lustre19 under the sunset heavens.
Vast shadowy shapes towered up ahead—outlying public buildings, private institutions, industrial plants, bridges of iron and steel, the ponderous20 bowed spans of which crossed wildernesses21 of railroad tracks or craft-crowded waters.
Two enormous arched viaducts of granite23 stretched away through sparkling semi-obscurity—High Bridge and Washington Bridge. Then it became an increasing confusion of phantom24 masses against a fading sky—bridges, towers, skyscrapers25, viaducts, boulevards, a wilderness22 of streets outlined by the growing brilliancy of electric lamps.
Brandes, deftly26 steering27 through the swarming28 maze29 of twilight30 avenues, turned east across the island, then swung south along the curved parapets and spreading gardens of Riverside Drive.
Perhaps Brandes was tired; he had become uncommunicative, inclined to silence. He did point out to her the squat31, truncated32 mass where the great General slept; called her attention to the river below, where 104three grey battleships lay. A bugle33 call from the decks came faintly to her ears.
If Rue was tired she did not know it as the car swept her steadily34 deeper amid the city’s wonders.
On her left, beyond the trees, the great dwellings35 and apartments of the Drive were already glimmering36 with light in every window; to the right, under the foliage37 of this endless necklace of parks and circles, a summer-clad throng38 strolled and idled along the river wall; and past them moved an unbroken column of automobiles39, taxicabs, and omnibuses.
At Seventy-second Street they turned to the east across the park, then into Fifth Avenue south once more. She saw the name of the celebrated40 avenue on the street corner, turned to glance excitedly at Brandes; but his preoccupied41 face was expressionless, almost forbidding, so she turned again in quest of other delightful42 discoveries. But there was nothing to identify for her the houses, churches, hotels, shops, on this endless and bewildering avenue of grey stone; as they swung west into Forty-second Street, she caught sight of the great marble mass of the Library, but had no idea what it was.
Into this dusky cañon, aflame with light, they rolled, where street lamps, the lamps of vehicles, and electric signs dazzled her unaccustomed eyes so that she saw nothing except a fiery43 vista44 filled with the rush and roar of traffic.
When they stopped, the chauffeur45 dropped from the rumble46 and came around to where a tall head porter in blue and silver uniform was opening the tonneau door.
Brandes said to his chauffeur:
“Here are the checks. Our trunks are at the Grand 105Central. Get them aboard, then come back here for us at ten o’clock.”
The chauffeur lifted his hand to his cap, and looked stealthily between his fingers at Brandes.
“Ten o’clock,” he repeated; “very good, sir.”
Rue instinctively47 sought Brandes’ arm as they entered the crowded lobby, then remembered, blushed, and withdrew her hand.
Brandes had started toward the desk with the intention of registering and securing a room for the few hours before going aboard the steamer; but something halted him—some instinct of caution. No, he would not register. He sent their luggage to the parcels room, found a maid who took Rue away, then went on through into the bar, where he took a stiff whisky and soda48, a thing he seldom did.
In the toilet he washed and had himself brushed. Then, emerging, he took another drink en passant, conscious of an odd, dull sense of apprehension49 for which he could not account.
At the desk they told him there was no telephone message for him. He sauntered over to the news stand, stared at the display of periodicals, but had not sufficient interest to buy even an evening paper.
So he idled about the marble-columned lobby, now crowded with a typical early-autumn throng in quest of dinner and the various nocturnal amusements which the city offers at all times to the frequenters of its thousand temples.
Rue came out of the ladies’ dressing50 room, and he went to her and guided her into the dining-room on the left, where an orchestra was playing. In her blue, provincial51 travelling gown the slender girl looked oddly out of place amid lace and jewels and the delicate tints 106of frail52 evening gowns, but her cheeks were bright with colour and her grey eyes brilliant, and the lights touched her thick chestnut53 hair with a ruddy glory, so that more than one man turned to watch her pass, and the idly contemptuous indifference54 of more than one woman ended at her neck and chin.
What Rue ate she never afterward55 remembered. It was all merely a succession of delicious sensations for the palate, for the eye, for the ear when the excellent orchestra was playing some gay overture56 from one of the newer musical comedies or comic operas.
Brandes at times seemed to shake off a growing depression and rouse himself to talk to her, even jest with her. He smoked cigarettes occasionally during dinner, a thing he seldom did, and, when coffee was served, he lighted one of his large cigars.
Rue, excited under an almost childishly timid manner, leaned on the table with both elbows and linked fingers, listening, watching everything with an almost breathless intelligence which strove to comprehend.
People left; others arrived; the music continued. Several times people passing caught Brandes’ eye, and bowed and smiled. He either acknowledged such salutes57 with a slight and almost surly nod, or ignored them altogether.
One of his short, heavy arms lay carelessly along the back of his chair, where he was sitting sideways looking at the people in the lobby—watching with that same odd sensation of foreboding of which he had been conscious from the first moment he had entered the city line.
What reason for apprehension he had he could not understand. Only an hour lay between him and the 107seclusion of the big liner; a few hours and he and this girl beside him would be at sea.
Once he excused himself, went out to the desk, and made an inquiry58. But there was no telephone or telegraph message for him; and he came back chewing his cigar.
Finally his uneasiness drew him to his feet again:
“Rue,” he said, “I’m going out to telephone to Mr. Stull. It may take some little time. You don’t mind waiting, do you?”
“No,” she said.
“Don’t you want another ice or something?”
She confessed that she did.
So he ordered it and went away.
As she sat leisurely59 tasting her ice and watching with unflagging interest the people around her, she noticed that the dining-room was already three-quarters empty. People were leaving for café, theatre, or dance; few remained.
Of these few, two young men in evening dress now arose and walked toward the lobby, one ahead of the other. One went out; the other, in the act of going, glanced casually60 at her as he passed, hesitated, halted, then, half smiling, half inquiringly, came toward her.
“Jim Neeland!” she exclaimed impulsively61. “—I mean Mr. Neeland––” a riot of colour flooding her face. But her eager hand remained outstretched. He took it, pressed it lightly, ceremoniously, and, still standing, continued to smile down at her.
Amid all this strange, infernal glitter; amid a city of six million strangers, suddenly to encounter a familiar face—to see somebody—anybody—from Gayfield—seemed a miracle too delightful to be true.
“You are Rue Carew,” he said. “I was not certain 108for a moment. You know we met only once before.”
Rue, conscious of the startled intimacy62 of her first greeting, blushed with the memory. But Neeland was a tactful young man; he said easily, with his very engaging smile:
“It was nice of you to remember me so frankly63 and warmly. You have no idea how pleasant it was to hear a Gayfield voice greet me as ‘Jim.’”
“I—didn’t intend to––”
“Please intend it in future, Rue. You don’t mind, do you?”
“No.”
“And will you ever forget that magnificent winter night when we drove to Brookhollow after the party?”
“I have—remembered it.”
“So have I.... Are you waiting for somebody? Of course you are,” he added, laughing. “But may I sit down for a moment?”
“Yes, I wish you would.”
So he seated himself, lighted a cigarette, glanced up at her and smiled.
“When did you come to New York?” he asked.
“Tonight.”
“Well, isn’t that a bit of luck to run into you like this! Have you come here to study art?”
“No.... Yes, I think, later, I am to study art here.”
“At the League?”
“I don’t know.”
“Better go to the League,” he said. “Begin there anyway. Do you know where it is?”
“No,” she said.
He called a waiter, borrowed pencil and pad, and wrote down the address of the Art Students’ League. 109He had begun to fold the paper when a second thought seemed to strike him, and he added his own address.
“In case I can do anything for you in any way,” he explained.
Rue thanked him, opened her reticule, and placed the folded paper there beside her purse.
“I do hope I shall see you soon again,” he said, looking gaily64, almost mischievously65 into her grey eyes. “This certainly resembles fate. Don’t you think so, Rue—this reunion of ours?”
“Fate?” she repeated.
“Yes. I should even call it romantic. Don’t you think our meeting this way resembles something very much like romance?”
She felt herself flushing, tried to smile:
“It couldn’t resemble anything,” she explained with quaint66 honesty, “because I am sailing for Europe tomorrow morning; I am going on board in less than an hour. And also—also, I––”
“Also?”—he prompted her, amused, yet oddly touched by her childishly literal reply.
“I am—married.”
“Good Lord!” he said.
“This morning,” she added, tasting her ice.
“And you’re sailing for Europe on your honeymoon67!” he exclaimed. “Well, upon my word! And what is your ship?”
“The Lusitania.”
“Really! I have a friend who is sailing on her—a most charming woman. I sent flowers to her only an hour ago.”
“Did you?” asked Rue, interested.
“Yes. She is a widow—the Princess Mistchenka—a delightful and pretty woman. I am going to send a 110note to the steamer tonight saying that—that my very particular friend, Ruhannah Carew, is on board, and won’t she ask you to tea. You’d love her, Rue. She’s a regular woman.”
“But—oh, dear!—a Princess!”
“You won’t even notice it,” he said reassuringly68. “She’s a corker; she’s an artist, too. I couldn’t begin to tell you how nice she has been to me. By the way, Rue, whom did you marry?”
“Mr. Brandes.”
“Brandes? I don’t remember—was he from up-state?”
“No; New York—I think––”
As she bent69 forward to taste her ice again he noticed for the first time the childlike loveliness of her throat and profile; looked at her with increasing interest, realising that she had grown into a most engaging creature since he had seen her.
Looking up, and beyond him toward the door, she said:
“I think your friend is waiting for you. Had you forgotten him?”
“Oh, that’s so!” he exclaimed. Then rising and offering his hand: “I wish you happiness, Rue. You have my address. When you return, won’t you let me know where you are? Won’t you let me know your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Please do. You see you and I have a common bond in art, another in our birthplace. Gayfield folk are your own people and mine. Don’t forget me, Rue.”
“No, I won’t.”
So he took his leave gracefully70 and went away through the enthralling71, glittering unreality of it all 111leaving a young girl thrilled, excited, and deeply impressed with his ease and bearing amid awe-inspiring scenes in which she, too, desired most ardently72 to find herself at ease.
Also she thought of his friend, the Princess Mistchenka. And again, as before, the name seemed to evoke73 within her mind a recollection of having heard it before, very long ago.
She wondered whether Neeland would remember to write, and if he did she wondered whether a real princess would actually condescend74 to invite her to take tea.
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收听单词发音
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1
tentacle
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| n.触角，触须，触手 | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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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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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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ablaze
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| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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11
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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14
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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15
turquoise
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| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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16
tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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19
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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wildernesses
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| 荒野( wilderness的名词复数 )； 沙漠； （政治家）在野； 不再当政（或掌权） | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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skyscrapers
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| n.摩天大楼 | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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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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29
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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31
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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32
truncated
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| adj.切去顶端的，缩短了的，被删节的v.截面的( truncate的过去式和过去分词 )；截头的；缩短了的；截去顶端或末端 | |
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33
bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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34
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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37
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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automobiles
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| n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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46
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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48
soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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51
provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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52
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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55
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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56
overture
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| n.前奏曲、序曲，提议，提案，初步交涉 | |
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57
salutes
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| n.致敬，欢迎，敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎，致敬( salute的第三人称单数 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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58
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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62
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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63
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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mischievously
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| adv.有害地；淘气地 | |
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66
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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67
honeymoon
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| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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68
reassuringly
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| ad.安心，可靠 | |
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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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70
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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71
enthralling
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| 迷人的 | |
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72
ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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73
evoke
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| vt.唤起，引起，使人想起 | |
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74
condescend
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| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
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