No place could have been more distasteful as the scene ofthe talk that lay before him; but he had acceded1 to Anna'ssuggestion that it would seem more natural for her to summonSophy Viner than for him to go in search of her. As histroubled pacings carried him back and forth2 a relentlesshand seemed to be tearing away all the tender fibres ofassociation that bound him to the peaceful room. Here, inthis very place, he had drunk his deepest draughts3 ofhappiness, had had his lips at the fountain-head of itsoverflowing rivers; but now that source was poisoned and hewould taste no more of an untainted cup.
For a moment he felt an actual physical anguish4; then hisnerves hardened for the coming struggle. He had no notionof what awaited him; but after the first instinctive5 recoilhe had seen in a flash the urgent need of another word withSophy Viner. He had been insincere in letting Anna thinkthat he had consented to speak because she asked it. Inreality he had been feverishly6 casting about for the pretextshe had given him; and for some reason this trivialhypocrisy weighed on him more than all his heavy burden ofdeceit.
At length he heard a step behind him and Sophy Vinerentered. When she saw him she paused on the threshold andhalf drew back.
"I was told that Mrs. Leath had sent for me.""Mrs. Leath DID send for you. She'll be here presently;but I asked her to let me see you first."He spoke7 very gently, and there was no insincerity in hisgentleness. He was profoundly moved by the change in thegirl's appearance. At sight of him she had forced a smile;but it lit up her wretchedness like a candle-flame held to adead face.
She made no reply, and Darrow went on: "You must understandmy wanting to speak to you, after what I was told just now."She interposed, with a gesture of protest: "I'm notresponsible for Owen's ravings!""Of course----". He broke off and they stood facing eachother. She lifted a hand and pushed back her loose lockwith the gesture that was burnt into his memory; then shelooked about her and dropped into the nearest chair.
"Well, you've got what you wanted," she said.
"What do you mean by what I wanted?""My engagement's broken--you heard me say so.""Why do you say that's what I wanted? All I wished, from thebeginning, was to advise you, to help you as best I could----""That's what you've done," she rejoined. "You've convincedme that it's best I shouldn't marry him."Darrow broke into a despairing laugh. "At the very momentwhen you'd convinced me to the contrary!""Had I?" Her smile flickered8 up. "Well, I really believedit till you showed me...warned me...""Warned you?""That I'd be miserable9 if I married a man I didn't love.""Don't you love him?"She made no answer, and Darrow started up and walked away tothe other end of the room. He stopped before the writing-table, where his photograph, well-dressed, handsome, self-sufficient--the portrait of a man of the world, confident ofhis ability to deal adequately with the most delicatesituations--offered its huge fatuity10 to his gaze. He turnedback to her. "It's rather hard on Owen, isn't it, that youshould have waited until now to tell him?"She reflected a moment before answering. "I told him assoon as I knew.""Knew that you couldn't marry him?""Knew that I could never live here with him." She lookedabout the room, as though the very walls must speak for her.
For a moment Darrow continued to search her faceperplexedly; then their eyes met in a long disastrous11 gaze.
"Yes----" she said, and stood up.
Below the window they heard Effie whistling for her dogs,and then, from the terrace, her mother calling her.
"There--THAT for instance," Sophy Viner said.
Darrow broke out: "It's I who ought to go!"She kept her small pale smile. "What good would that do anyof us--now?"He covered his face with his hands. "Good God!" he groaned12.
"How could I tell?""You couldn't tell. We neither of us could." She seemed toturn the problem over critically. "After all, it might havebeen YOU instead of me!"He took another distracted turn about the room and comingback to her sat down in a chair at her side. A mocking handseemed to dash the words from his lips. There was nothing onearth that he could say to her that wasn't foolish or cruelor contemptible13...
"My dear," he began at last, "oughtn't you, at any rate, totry?"Her gaze grew grave. "Try to forget you?"He flushed to the forehead. "I meant, try to give Owen moretime; to give him a chance. He's madly in love with you;all the good that's in him is in your hands. His step-motherfelt that from the first. And she thought--she believed----""She thought I could make him happy. Would she think sonow?""Now...? I don't say now. But later? Time modifies...rubsout...more quickly than you think...Go away, but let himhope...I'm going too--WE'RE going--" he stumbled on theplural--"in a very few weeks: going for a long time,probably. What you're thinking of now may never happen. Wemay not all be here together again for years."She heard him out in silence, her hands clasped on her knee,her eyes bent14 on them. "For me," she said, "you'll alwaysbe here.""Don't say that--oh, don't! Things change...peoplechange...You'll see!""You don't understand. I don't want anything to change. Idon't want to forget--to rub out. At first I imagined Idid; but that was a foolish mistake. As soon as I saw youagain I knew it...It's not being here with you that I'mafraid of--in the sense you think. It's being here, oranywhere, with Owen." She stood up and bent her tragic15 smileon him. "I want to keep you all to myself."The only words that came to him were futile16 denunciations ofhis folly17; but the sense of their futility18 checked them onhis lips. "Poor child--you poor child!" he heard himselfvainly repeating.
Suddenly he felt the strong reaction of reality and itsimpetus brought him to his feet. "Whatever happens, Iintend to go--to go for good," he exclaimed. "I want you tounderstand that. Oh, don't be afraid--I'll find a reason.
But it's perfectly19 clear that I must go."She uttered a protesting cry. "Go away? You? Don't you seethat that would tell everything--drag everybody into thehorror?"He found no answer, and her voice dropped back to its calmernote. "What good would your going do? Do you suppose itwould change anything for me?" She looked at him with amusing wistfulness. "I wonder what your feeling for me was?
It seems queer that I've never really known--I suppose weDON'T know much about that kind of feeling. Is it liketaking a drink when you're thirsty?...I used to feel as ifall of me was in the palm of your hand..."He bowed his humbled20 head, but she went on almostexultantly: "Don't for a minute think I'm sorry! It wasworth every penny it cost. My mistake was in being ashamed,just at first, of its having cost such a lot. I tried tocarry it off as a joke--to talk of it to myself as an'adventure'. I'd always wanted adventures, and you'd givenme one, and I tried to take your attitude about it, to 'playthe game' and convince myself that I hadn't risked any moreon it than you. Then, when I met you again, I suddenly sawthat I HAD risked more, but that I'd won more, too--suchworlds! I'd been trying all the while to put everything Icould between us; now I want to sweep everything away. I'dbeen trying to forget how you looked; now I want to rememberyou always. I'd been trying not to hear your voice; now Inever want to hear any other. I've made my choice--that'sall: I've had you and I mean to keep you." Her face wasshining like her eyes. "To keep you hidden away here," sheended, and put her hand upon her breast.
After she had left him, Darrow continued to sit motionless,staring back into their past. Hitherto it had lingered onthe edge of his mind in a vague pink blur21, like one of thelittle rose-leaf clouds that a setting sun drops from itsdisk. Now it was a huge looming22 darkness, through which hiseyes vainly strained. The whole episode was still obscureto him, save where here and there, as they talked, somephrase or gesture or intonation23 of the girl's had lit up alittle spot in the night.
She had said: "I wonder what your feeling for me was?" andhe found himself wondering too...He remembered distinctlyenough that he had not meant the perilous24 passion--even inits most transient form--to play a part in their relation.
In that respect his attitude had been above reproach. Shewas an unusually original and attractive creature, to whomhe had wanted to give a few days of harmless pleasuring, andwho was alert and expert enough to understand his intentionand spare him the boredom25 of hesitations26 andmisinterpretations. That had been his first impression, andher subsequent demeanour had justified27 it. She had been,from the outset, just the frank and easy comrade he hadexpected to find her. Was it he, then, who, in the sequel,had grown impatient of the bounds he had set himself? Was ithis wounded vanity that, seeking balm for its hurt, yearnedto dip deeper into the healing pool of her compassion28? Inhis confused memory of the situation he seemed not to havebeen guiltless of such yearnings...Yet for the first fewdays the experiment had been perfectly successful. Herenjoyment had been unclouded and his pleasure in itundisturbed. It was very gradually--he seemed to see--thata shade of lassitude had crept over their intercourse29.
Perhaps it was because, when her light chatter30 about peoplefailed, he found she had no other fund to draw on, orperhaps simply because of the sweetness of her laugh, or ofthe charm of the gesture with which, one day in the woods ofMarly, she had tossed off her hat and tilted31 back her headat the call of a cuckoo; or because, whenever he looked ather unexpectedly, he found that she was looking at him anddid not want him to know it; or perhaps, in varying degrees,because of all these things, that there had come a momentwhen no word seemed to fly high enough or dive deep enoughto utter the sense of well-being32 each gave to the other, andthe natural substitute for speech had been a kiss.
The kiss, at all events, had come at the precise moment tosave their venture from disaster. They had reached thepoint when her amazing reminiscences had begun to flag, whenher future had been exhaustively discussed, her theatricalprospects minutely studied, her quarrel with Mrs. Murrettretold with the last amplification33 of detail, and when,perhaps conscious of her exhausted34 resources and hisdwindling interest, she had committed the fatal error ofsaying that she could see he was unhappy, and entreating35 himto tell her why...
From the brink36 of estranging37 confidences, and from the riskof unfavourable comparisons, his gesture had snatched herback to safety; and as soon as he had kissed her he feltthat she would never bore him again. She was one of theelemental creatures whose emotion is all in their pulses,and who become inexpressive or sentimental38 when they try toturn sensation into speech. His caress39 had restored her toher natural place in the scheme of things, and Darrow feltas if he had clasped a tree and a nymph had bloomed fromit...
The mere40 fact of not having to listen to her any longeradded immensely to her charm. She continued, of course, totalk to him, but it didn't matter, because he no longer madeany effort to follow her words, but let her voice run on asa musical undercurrent to his thoughts.
She hadn't a drop of poetry in her, but she had some of thequalities that create it in others; and in moments of heatthe imagination does not always feel the difference...
Lying beside her in the shade, Darrow felt her presence as apart of the charmed stillness of the summer woods, as theelement of vague well-being that suffused41 his senses andlulled to sleep the ache of wounded pride. All he asked ofher, as yet, was a touch on the hand or on the lips--andthat she should let him go on lying there through the longwarm hours, while a black-bird's song throbbed42 like afountain, and the summer wind stirred in the trees, andclose by, between the nearest branches and the brim of histilted hat, a slight white figure gathered up all thefloating threads of joy...
He recalled, too, having noticed, as he lay staring at abreak in the tree-tops, a stream of mares'-tails coming upthe sky. He had said to himself: "It will rain to-morrow,"and the thought had made the air seem warmer and the sunmore vivid on her hair...Perhaps if the mares'-tails had notcome up the sky their adventure might have had no sequel.
But the cloud brought rain, and next morning he looked outof his window into a cold grey blur. They had planned anall-day excursion down the Seine, to the two Andelys andRouen, and now, with the long hours on their hands, theywere both a little at a loss...There was the Louvre, ofcourse, and the Luxembourg; but he had tried looking atpictures with her, she had first so persistently43 admired theworst things, and then so frankly44 lapsed45 into indifference,that he had no wish to repeat the experiment. So they wentout, aimlessly, and took a cold wet walk, turning at lengthinto the deserted46 arcades47 of the Palais Royal, and finallydrifting into one of its equally deserted restaurants, wherethey lunched alone and somewhat dolefully, served by a wanold waiter with the look of a castaway who has given upwatching for a sail...It was odd how the waiter's face cameback to him...
Perhaps but for the rain it might never have happened; butwhat was the use of thinking of that now? He tried to turnhis thoughts to more urgent issues; but, by a strangeperversity of association, every detail of the day wasforcing itself on his mind with an insistence48 from whichthere was no escape. Reluctantly he relived the long wetwalk back to the hotel, after a tedious hour at acinematograph show on the Boulevard. It was still rainingwhen they withdrew from this stale spectacle, but she hadobstinately refused to take a cab, had even, on the way,insisted on loitering under the dripping awnings49 of shop-windows and poking50 into draughty passages, and finally, whenthey had nearly reached their destination, had gone so faras to suggest that they should turn back to hunt up someshow she had heard of in a theatre at the Batignolles. Butat that he had somewhat irritably51 protested: he rememberedthat, for the first time, they were both rather irritable,and vaguely52 disposed to resist one another's suggestions.
His feet were wet, and he was tired of walking, and sick ofthe smell of stuffy53 unaired theatres, and he had said hemust really get back to write some letters--and so they hadkept on to the hotel...
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acceded
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| v.（正式）加入( accede的过去式和过去分词 )；答应；（通过财产的添附而）增加；开始任职 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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draughts
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| n. <英>国际跳棋 | |
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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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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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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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flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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fatuity
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| n.愚蠢，愚昧 | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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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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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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futility
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| n.无用 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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hesitations
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| n.犹豫( hesitation的名词复数 )；踌躇；犹豫（之事或行为）；口吃 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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well-being
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| n.安康，安乐，幸福 | |
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amplification
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| n.扩大，发挥 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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entreating
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的现在分词 ) | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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estranging
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| v.使疏远（尤指家庭成员之间）( estrange的现在分词 ) | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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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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arcades
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| n.商场( arcade的名词复数 )；拱形走道（两旁有商店或娱乐设施）；连拱廊；拱形建筑物 | |
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insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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awnings
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| 篷帐布 | |
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poking
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| 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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51
irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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