Almost as soon as the train left Calais her head had droppedback into the corner, and she had fallen asleep.
Sitting opposite, in the compartment1 from which he hadcontrived to have other travellers excluded, Darrow lookedat her curiously2. He had never seen a face that changed soquickly. A moment since it had danced like a field ofdaisies in a summer breeze; now, under the pallidoscillating light of the lamp overhead, it wore the hardstamp of experience, as of a soft thing chilled into shapebefore its curves had rounded: and it moved him to see thatcare already stole upon her when she slept.
The story she had imparted to him in the wheezing3 shakingcabin, and at the Calais buffet--where he had insisted onoffering her the dinner she had missed at Mrs. Murrett's--had given a distincter outline to her figure. From themoment of entering the New York boarding-school to which apreoccupied guardian4 had hastily consigned5 her after thedeath of her parents, she had found herself alone in a busyand indifferent world. Her youthful history might, in fact,have been summed up in the statement that everybody had beentoo busy to look after her. Her guardian, a drudge6 in a bigbanking house, was absorbed by "the office"; the guardian'swife, by her health and her religion; and an elder sister,Laura, married, unmarried, remarried, and pursuing, throughall these alternating phases, some vaguely7 "artistic8" idealon which the guardian and his wife looked askance, had (asDarrow conjectured) taken their disapproval9 as a pretext10 fornot troubling herself about poor Sophy, to whom--perhaps forthis reason--she had remained the incarnation of remoteromantic possibilities.
In the course of time a sudden "stroke" of the guardian'shad thrown his personal affairs into a state of confusionfrom which--after his widely lamented11 death--it becameevident that it would not be possible to extricate12 hisward's inheritance. No one deplored13 this more sincerelythan his widow, who saw in it one more proof of herhusband's life having been sacrificed to the innumerableduties imposed on him, and who could hardly--but for thecounsels of religion--have brought herself to pardon theyoung girl for her indirect share in hastening his end.
Sophy did not resent this point of view. She was reallymuch sorrier for her guardian's death than for the loss ofher insignificant14 fortune. The latter had represented onlythe means of holding her in bondage15, and its disappearancewas the occasion of her immediate16 plunge17 into the widebright sea of life surrounding the island-of her captivity18.
She had first landed--thanks to the intervention19 of theladies who had directed her education--in a Fifth Avenueschool-room where, for a few months, she acted as a bufferbetween three autocratic infants and their bodyguard20 ofnurses and teachers. The too-pressing attentions of theirfather's valet had caused her to fly this sheltered spot,against the express advice of her educational superiors, whoimplied that, in their own case, refinement21 and self-respecthad always sufficed to keep the most ungovernable passionsat bay. The experience of the guardian's widow having beenprecisely similar, and the deplorable precedent22 of Laura'scareer being present to all their minds, none of theseladies felt any obligation to intervene farther in Sophy'saffairs; and she was accordingly left to her own resources.
A schoolmate from the Rocky Mountains, who was taking herfather and mother to Europe, had suggested Sophy'saccompanying them, and "going round" with her while herprogenitors, in the care of the courier, nursed theirailments at a fashionable bath. Darrow gathered that the"going round" with Mamie Hoke was a varied23 and divertingprocess; but this relatively24 brilliant phase of Sophy'scareer was cut short by the elopement of the inconsiderateMamie with a "matinee idol25" who had followed her from NewYork, and by the precipitate26 return of her parents tonegotiate for the repurchase of their child.
It was then--after an interval28 of repose29 with compassionatebut impecunious30 American friends in Paris--that Miss Vinerhad been drawn31 into the turbid32 current of Mrs. Murrett'scareer. The impecunious compatriots had found Mrs. Murrettfor her, and it was partly on their account (because theywere such dears, and so unconscious, poor confiding33 things,of what they were letting her in for) that Sophy had stuckit out so long in the dreadful house in Chelsea. TheFarlows, she explained to Darrow, were the best friends shehad ever had (and the only ones who had ever "been decent"about Laura, whom they had seen once, and intenselyadmired); but even after twenty years of Paris they were themost incorrigibly34 inexperienced angels, and quite persuadedthat Mrs. Murrett was a woman of great intellectualeminence, and the house at Chelsea "the last of the salons"--Darrow knew what she meant? And she hadn't liked toundeceive them, knowing that to do so would be virtually tothrow herself back on their hands, and feeling, moreover,after her previous experiences, the urgent need of gaining,at any cost, a name for stability; besides which--she threwit off with a slight laugh--no other chance, in all theseyears, had happened to come to her.
She had brushed in this outline of her career with lightrapid strokes, and in a tone of fatalism oddly untinged bybitterness. Darrow perceived that she classified peopleaccording to their greater or less "luck" in life, but sheappeared to harbour no resentment35 against the undefinedpower which dispensed36 the gift in such unequal measure.
Things came one's way or they didn't; and meanwhile onecould only look on, and make the most of smallcompensations, such as watching "the show" at Mrs.
Murrett's, and talking over the Lady Ulricas and otherfootlight figures. And at any moment, of course, a turn ofthe kaleidoscope might suddenly toss a bright spangle intothe grey pattern of one's days.
This light-hearted philosophy was not without charm to ayoung man accustomed to more traditional views. GeorgeDarrow had had a fairly varied experience of feminine types,but the women he had frequented had either been pronouncedly"ladies" or they had not. Grateful to both for ministeringto the more complex masculine nature, and disposed to assumethat they had been evolved, if not designed, to that end, hehad instinctively38 kept the two groups apart in his mind,avoiding that intermediate society which attempts toconciliate both theories of life. "Bohemianism" seemed tohim a cheaper convention than the other two, and he liked,above all, people who went as far as they could in their ownline--liked his "ladies" and their rivals to be equallyunashamed of showing for exactly what they were. He had notindeed--the fact of Lady Ulrica was there to remind him--been without his experience of a third type; but thatexperience had left him with a contemptuous distaste for thewoman who uses the privileges of one class to shelter thecustoms of another.
As to young girls, he had never thought much about themsince his early love for the girl who had become Mrs. Leath.
That episode seemed, as he looked back on it, to bear nomore relation to reality than a pale decorative39 design tothe confused richness of a summer landscape. He no longerunderstood the violent impulses and dreamy pauses of his ownyoung heart, or the inscrutable abandonments and reluctancesof hers. He had known a moment of anguish40 at losing her--themad plunge of youthful instincts against the barrier offate; but the first wave of stronger sensation had sweptaway all but the outline of their story, and the memory ofAnna Summers had made the image of the young girl sacred,but the class uninteresting.
Such generalisations belonged, however, to an earlier stageof his experience. The more he saw of life the moreincalculable he found it; and he had learned to yield to hisimpressions without feeling the youthful need of relatingthem to others. It was the girl in the opposite seat whohad roused in him the dormant41 habit of comparison. She wasdistinguished from the daughters of wealth by her avowedacquaintance with the real business of living, a familiarityas different as possible from their theoretical proficiency;yet it seemed to Darrow that her experience had made herfree without hardness and self-assured withoutassertiveness.
The rush into Amiens, and the flash of the station lightsinto their compartment, broke Miss Viner's sleep, andwithout changing her position she lifted her lids and lookedat Darrow. There was neither surprise nor bewilderment inthe look. She seemed instantly conscious, not so much ofwhere she was, as of the fact that she was with him; andthat fact seemed enough to reassure42 her. She did not eventurn her head to look out; her eyes continued to rest on himwith a vague smile which appeared to light her face fromwithin, while her lips kept their sleepy droop43.
Shouts and the hurried tread of travellers came to themthrough the confusing cross-lights of the platform. A headappeared at the window, and Darrow threw himself forward todefend their solitude44; but the intruder was only a trainhand going his round of inspection45. He passed on, and thelights and cries of the station dropped away, merged46 in awider haze47 and a hollower resonance48, as the train gathereditself up with a long shake and rolled out again into thedarkness.
Miss Viner's head sank back against the cushion, pushing outa dusky wave of hair above her forehead. The swaying of thetrain loosened a lock over her ear, and she shook it backwith a movement like a boy's, while her gaze still rested onher companion.
"You're not too tired?"She shook her head with a smile.
"We shall be in before midnight. We're very nearly ontime." He verified the statement by holding up his watch tothe lamp.
She nodded dreamily. "It's all right. I telegraphed Mrs.
Farlow that they mustn't think of coming to the station; butthey'll have told the concierge49 to look out for me.""You'll let me drive you there?"She nodded again, and her eyes closed. It was very pleasantto Darrow that she made no effort to talk or to dissembleher sleepiness. He sat watching her till the upper lashesmet and mingled50 with the lower, and their blent shadow layon her cheek; then he stood up and drew the curtain over thelamp, drowning the compartment in a bluish twilight51.
As he sank back into his seat he thought how differentlyAnna Summers--or even Anna Leath--would have behaved. Shewould not have talked too much; she would not have beeneither restless or embarrassed; but her adaptability52, herappropriateness, would not have been nature but "tact53." Theoddness of the situation would have made sleep impossible,or, if weariness had overcome her for a moment, she wouldhave waked with a start, wondering where she was, and howshe had come there, and if her hair were tidy; and nothingshort of hairpins54 and a glass would have restored her self-possession...
The reflection set him wondering whether the "sheltered"girl's bringing-up might not unfit her for all subsequentcontact with life. How much nearer to it had Mrs. Leathbeen brought by marriage and motherhood, and the passage offourteen years? What were all her reticences and evasionsbut the result of the deadening process of forming a "lady"?
The freshness he had marvelled55 at was like the unnaturalwhiteness of flowers forced in the dark.
As he looked back at their few days together he saw thattheir intercourse56 had been marked, on her part, by the samehesitations and reserves which had chilled their earlierintimacy. Once more they had had their hour together andshe had wasted it. As in her girlhood, her eyes had madepromises which her lips were afraid to keep. She was stillafraid of life, of its ruthlessness, its danger and mystery.
She was still the petted little girl who cannot be leftalone in the dark...His memory flew back to their youthfulstory, and long-forgotten details took shape before him.
How frail57 and faint the picture was! They seemed, he andshe, like the ghostly lovers of the Grecian Urn27, foreverpursuing without ever clasping each other. To this day hedid not quite know what had parted them: the break had beenas fortuitous as the fluttering apart of two seed-vessels ona wave of summer air...
The very slightness, vagueness, of the memory gave it anadded poignancy58. He felt the mystic pang37 of the parent fora child which has just breathed and died. Why had ithappened thus, when the least shifting of influences mighthave made it all so different? If she had been given to himthen he would have put warmth in her veins59 and light in hereyes: would have made her a woman through and through.
Musing thus, he had the sense of waste that is the bitterestharvest of experience. A love like his might have given herthe divine gift of self-renewal; and now he saw her fated towane into old age repeating the same gestures, echoing thewords she had always heard, and perhaps never guessing that,just outside her glazed60 and curtained consciousness, liferolled away, a vast blackness starred with lights, like thenight landscape beyond the windows of the train.
The engine lowered its speed for the passage through asleeping station. In the light of the platform lamp Darrowlooked across at his companion. Her head had dropped towardone shoulder, and her lips were just far enough apart forthe reflection of the upper one to deepen the colour of theother. The jolting61 of the train had again shaken loose thelock above her ear. It danced on her cheek like the flit ofa brown wing over flowers, and Darrow felt an intense desireto lean forward and put it back behind her ear.
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compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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wheezing
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| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的现在分词 )；哮鸣 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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consigned
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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drudge
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| n.劳碌的人；v.做苦工，操劳 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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extricate
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| v.拯救，救出；解脱 | |
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deplored
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| v.悲叹，痛惜，强烈反对( deplore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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bodyguard
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| n.护卫，保镖 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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relatively
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| adv.比较...地，相对地 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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urn
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| n.（有座脚的）瓮；坟墓；骨灰瓮 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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impecunious
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| adj.不名一文的，贫穷的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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turbid
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| adj.混浊的，泥水的，浓的 | |
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confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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incorrigibly
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| adv.无法矫正地；屡教不改地；无可救药地；不能矫正地 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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dispensed
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| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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decorative
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| adj.装饰的，可作装饰的 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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dormant
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| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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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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resonance
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| n.洪亮；共鸣；共振 | |
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concierge
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| n.管理员；门房 | |
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50
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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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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adaptability
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| n.适应性 | |
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53
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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54
hairpins
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| n.发夹( hairpin的名词复数 ) | |
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55
marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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poignancy
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| n.辛酸事，尖锐 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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