"That's all right," said Crump when the bandaging was replaced. "It's a trick of memory, no doubt, but these excrescences of yours don't seem nearly so large as they did yesterday. I suppose they struck me rather forcibly. Stop and have lunch with me now you're down here. Midday meal, you know. The youngsters will be swallowed up by school again in the afternoon."
"I never saw anything heal so well in my life," he said, as they walked into the dining-room. "Your blood and flesh must be as clean and free from bacteria as they make 'em. Whatever stuff there is in your head," he added sotto voce.
At lunch he watched the Angel narrowly, and talked to draw him out.
[Pg 136]
"Journey tire you yesterday?" he said suddenly.
"Journey!" said the Angel. "Oh! my wings felt a little stiff."
("Not to be had,") said Crump to himself. ("Suppose I must enter into it.")
"So you flew all the way, eigh? No conveyance1?"
"There wasn't any way," explained the Angel, taking mustard. "I was flying up a symphony with some Griffins and Fiery2 Cherubim, and suddenly everything went dark and I was in this world of yours."
"Dear me!" said Crump. "And that's why you haven't any luggage." He drew his serviette across his mouth, and a smile flickered3 in his eyes.
"I suppose you know this world of ours pretty well? Watching us over the adamantine walls and all that kind of thing. Eigh?"
"Not very well. We dream of it sometimes. In the moonlight, when the Nightmares have fanned us to sleep with their wings."
"Ah, yes—of course," said Crump. "Very[Pg 137] poetical4 way of putting it. Won't you take some Burgundy? It's just beside you."
"There's a persuasion5 in this world, you know, that Angels' Visits are by no means infrequent. Perhaps some of your—friends have travelled? They are supposed to come down to deserving persons in prisons, and do refined Nautches and that kind of thing. Faust business, you know."
"I've never heard of anything of the kind," said the Angel.
"Only the other day a lady whose baby was my patient for the time being—indigestion—assured me that certain facial contortions6 the little creature made indicated that it was Dreaming of Angels. In the novels of Mrs Henry Wood that is spoken of as an infallible symptom of an early departure. I suppose you can't throw any light on that obscure pathological manifestation7?"
"I don't understand it at all," said the Angel, puzzled, and not clearly apprehending8 the Doctor's drift.
("Getting huffy,") said Crump to himself. ("Sees I'm poking9 fun at him.") "There's[Pg 138] one thing I'm curious about. Do the new arrivals complain much about their medical attendants? I've always fancied there must be a good deal of hydropathic talk just at first. I was looking at that picture in the Academy only this June...."
"New Arrivals!" said the Angel. "I really don't follow you."
The Doctor stared. "Don't they come?"
"Come!" said the Angel. "Who?"
"The people who die here."
"After they've gone to pieces here?"
"That's the general belief, you know."
"People, like the woman who screamed out of the door, and the blackfaced man and his volutations and the horrible little things that threw husks!—certainly not. I never saw such creatures before I fell into this world."
"Oh! but come!" said the Doctor. "You'll tell me next your official robes are not white and that you can't play the harp10."
"There's no such thing as white in the Angelic Land," said the Angel. "It's that queer blank colour you get by mixing up all the others."
[Pg 139]
"Why, my dear Sir!" said the doctor, suddenly altering his tone, "you positively11 know nothing about the Land you come from. White's the very essence of it."
"Look here," said Crump, and getting up, he went to the sideboard on which a copy of the Parish Magazine was lying. He brought it round to the Angel and opened it at the coloured supplement. "Here's some real angels," he said. "You see it's not simply the wings make the Angel. White you see, with a curly whisp of robe, sailing up into the sky with their wings furled. Those are angels on the best authority. Hydroxyl kind of hair. One has a bit of a harp, you see, and the other is helping13 this wingless lady—kind of larval Angel, you know—upward."
"Oh! but really!" said the Angel, "those are not angels at all."
"But they are," said Crump, putting the magazine back on the sideboard and resuming his seat with an air of intense satisfaction. "I can assure you I have the best authority...."
[Pg 140]
"I can assure you...."
Crump tucked in the corners of his mouth and shook his head from side to side even as he had done to the Vicar. "No good," he said, "can't alter our ideas just because an irresponsible visitor...."
"If these are angels," said the Angel, "then I have never been in the Angelic Land."
The Angel stared at him for a minute round-eyed, and then was seized for the second time by the human disorder15 of laughter.
"Ha, ha, ha!" said Crump, joining in. "I thought you were not quite so mad as you seemed. Ha, ha, ha!"
And for the rest of the lunch they were both very merry, for entirely16 different reasons, and Crump insisted upon treating the Angel as a "dorg" of the highest degree.
点击收听单词发音
1 conveyance | |
n.(不动产等的)转让,让与;转让证书;传送;运送;表达;(正)运输工具 | |
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2 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
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3 flickered | |
(通常指灯光)闪烁,摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4 poetical | |
adj.似诗人的;诗一般的;韵文的;富有诗意的 | |
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5 persuasion | |
n.劝说;说服;持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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6 contortions | |
n.扭歪,弯曲;扭曲,弄歪,歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
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7 manifestation | |
n.表现形式;表明;现象 | |
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8 apprehending | |
逮捕,拘押( apprehend的现在分词 ); 理解 | |
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9 poking | |
n. 刺,戳,袋 vt. 拨开,刺,戳 vi. 戳,刺,捅,搜索,伸出,行动散慢 | |
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10 harp | |
n.竖琴;天琴座 | |
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11 positively | |
adv.明确地,断然,坚决地;实在,确实 | |
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12 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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13 helping | |
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的 | |
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14 ineffably | |
adv.难以言喻地,因神圣而不容称呼地 | |
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15 disorder | |
n.紊乱,混乱;骚动,骚乱;疾病,失调 | |
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16 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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