She drove from Miss Painter's to her own apartment. Themaid-servant who had it in charge had been apprised1 of hercoming, and had opened one or two of the rooms, and prepareda fire in her bedroom. Anna shut herself in, refusing thewoman's ministrations. She felt cold and faint, and aftershe had taken off her hat and cloak she knelt down by thefire and stretched her hands to it.
In one respect, at least, it was clear to her that she woulddo well to follow Sophy Viner's counsel. It had been an actof folly2 to follow Owen, and her first business was to getback to Givre before him. But the only train leaving thatevening was a slow one, which did not reach Francheuil tillmidnight, and she knew that her taking it would exciteMadame de Chantelle's wonder and lead to interminable talk.
She had come up to Paris on the pretext3 of finding a newgoverness for Effie, and the natural thing was to defer4 herreturn till the next morning. She knew Owen well enough tobe sure that he would make another attempt to see MissViner, and failing that, would write again and await heranswer: so that there was no likelihood of his reachingGivre till the following evening.
Her sense of relief at not having to start out at onceshowed her for the first time how tired she was. Thebonne had suggested a cup of tea, but the dread5 of havingany one about her had made Anna refuse, and she had eatennothing since morning but a sandwich bought at a buffet6.
She was too tired to get up, but stretching out her arm shedrew toward her the arm-chair which stood beside the hearthand rested her head against its cushions. Gradually thewarmth of the fire stole into her veins8 and her heaviness ofsoul was replaced by a dreamy buoyancy. She seemed to beseated on the hearth7 in her sitting-room9 at Givre, andDarrow was beside her, in the chair against which sheleaned. He put his arms about her shoulders and drawing herhead back looked into her eyes. "Of all the ways you doyour hair, that's the way I like best," he said...
A log dropped, and she sat up with a start. There was awarmth in her heart, and she was smiling. Then she lookedabout her, and saw where she was, and the glory fell. Shehid her face and sobbed10.
Presently she perceived that it was growing dark, andgetting up stiffly she began to undo11 the things in her bagand spread them on the dressing-table. She shrank fromlighting the lights, and groped her way about, trying tofind what she needed. She seemed immeasurably far off fromevery one, and most of all from herself. It was as if herconsciousness had been transmitted to some stranger whosethoughts and gestures were indifferent to her...
Suddenly she heard a shrill12 tinkle13, and with a beating heartshe stood still in the middle of the room. It was thetelephone in her dressing-room--a call, no doubt, fromAdelaide Painter. Or could Owen have learned she was intown? The thought alarmed her and she opened the door andstumbled across the unlit room to the instrument. She heldit to her ear, and heard Darrow's voice pronounce her name.
"Will you let me see you? I've come back--I had to come.
Miss Painter told me you were here."She began to tremble, and feared that he would guess it fromher voice. She did not know what she answered: she heardhim say: "I can't hear." She called "Yes!" and laid thetelephone down, and caught it up again--but he was gone.
She wondered if her "Yes" had reached him.
She sat in her chair and listened. Why had she said thatshe would see him? What did she mean to say to him when hecame? Now and then, as she sat there, the sense of hispresence enveloped14 her as in her dream, and she shut hereyes and felt his arms about her. Then she woke to realityand shivered. A long time elapsed, and at length she saidto herself: "He isn't coming."The door-bell rang as she said it, and she stood up, coldand trembling. She thought: "Can he imagine there's any usein coming?" and moved forward to bid the servant say shecould not see him.
The door opened and she saw him standing15 in the drawing-room. The room was cold and fireless, and a hard glare fellfrom the wall-lights on the shrouded16 furniture and the whiteslips covering the curtains. He looked pale and stern, witha frown of fatigue17 between his eyes; and she remembered thatin three days he had travelled from Givre to London andback. It seemed incredible that all that had befallen hershould have been compressed within the space of three days!
"Thank you," he said as she came in.
She answered: "It's better, I suppose----"He came toward her and took her in his arms. She struggleda little, afraid of yielding, but he pressed her to him, notbending to her but holding her fast, as though he had foundher after a long search: she heard his hurried breathing.
It seemed to come from her own breast, so close he held her;and it was she who, at last, lifted up her face and drewdown his.
She freed herself and went and sat on a sofa at the otherend of the room. A mirror between the shrouded window-curtains showed her crumpled18 travelling dress and the whiteface under her disordered hairShe found her voice, and asked him how he had been able toleave London. He answered that he had managed--he'darranged it; and she saw he hardly heard what she wassaying.
"I had to see you," he went on, and moved nearer, sittingdown at her side.
"Yes; we must think of Owen----""Oh, Owen--!"Her mind had flown back to Sophy Viner's plea that sheshould let Darrow return to Givre in order that Owen mightbe persuaded of the folly of his suspicions. The suggestionwas absurd, of course. She could not ask Darrow to lendhimself to such a fraud, even had she had the inhumancourage to play her part in it. She was suddenlyoverwhelmed by the futility19 of every attempt to reconstructher ruined world. No, it was useless; and since it wasuseless, every moment with Darrow was pure pain...
"I've come to talk of myself, not of Owen," she heard himsaying. "When you sent me away the other day I understoodthat it couldn't be otherwise--then. But it's not possiblethat you and I should part like that. If I'm to lose you, itmust be for a better reason.""A better reason?""Yes: a deeper one. One that means a fundamental disaccordbetween us. This one doesn't--in spite of everything itdoesn't. That's what I want you to see, and have thecourage to acknowledge.""If I saw it I should have the courage!""Yes: courage was the wrong word. You have that. That's whyI'm here.""But I don't see it," she continued sadly. "So it'suseless, isn't it?--and so cruel..." He was about to speak,but she went on: "I shall never understand it--never!"He looked at her. "You will some day: you were made to feeleverything""I should have thought this was a case of not feeling----""On my part, you mean?" He faced her resolutely20. "Yes, itwas: to my shame...What I meant was that when you've lived alittle longer you'll see what complex blunderers we all are:
how we're struck blind sometimes, and mad sometimes--andthen, when our sight and our senses come back, how we haveto set to work, and build up, little by little, bit by bit,the precious things we'd smashed to atoms without knowingit. Life's just a perpetual piecing together of brokenbits."She looked up quickly. "That's what I feel: that you oughtto----"He stood up, interrupting her with a gesture. "Oh, don't--don't say what you're going to! Men don't give their livesaway like that. If you won't have mine, it's at least myown, to do the best I can with.""The best you can--that's what I mean! How can there be a'best' for you that's made of some one else's worst?"He sat down again with a groan21. "I don't know! It seemedsuch a slight thing--all on the surface--and I've goneaground on it because it was on the surface. I see thehorror of it just as you do. But I see, a little moreclearly, the extent, and the limits, of my wrong. It's notas black as you imagine."She lowered her voice to say: "I suppose I shall neverunderstand; but she seems to love you...""There's my shame! That I didn't guess it, didn't fly fromit. You say you'll never understand: but why shouldn't you?
Is it anything to be proud of, to know so little of thestrings that pull us? If you knew a little more, I couldtell you how such things happen without offending you; andperhaps you'd listen without condemning23 me.""I don't condemn22 you." She was dizzy with strugglingimpulses. She longed to cry out: "I DO understand! I'veunderstood ever since you've been here!" For she was aware,in her own bosom24, of sensations so separate from herromantic thoughts of him that she saw her body and souldivided against themselves. She recalled having readsomewhere that in ancient Rome the slaves were not allowedto wear a distinctive25 dress lest they should recognize eachother and learn their numbers and their power. So, inherself, she discerned for the first time instincts anddesires, which, mute and unmarked, had gone to and fro inthe dim passages of her mind, and now hailed each other witha cry of mutiny.
"Oh, I don't know what to think!" she broke out. "You sayyou didn't know she loved you. But you know it now.
Doesn't that show you how you can put the broken bitstogether?""Can you seriously think it would be doing so to marry onewoman while I care for another?""Oh, I don't know...I don't know..." The sense of herweakness made her try to harden herself against hisarguments.
"You do know! We've often talked of such things: of themonstrousness of useless sacrifices. If I'm to expiate,it's not in that way." He added abruptly26: "It's in having tosay this to you now..."She found no answer.
Through the silent apartment they heard the sudden peal27 ofthe door-bell, and she rose to her feet. "Owen!" sheinstantly exclaimed.
"Is Owen in Paris?"She explained in a rapid undertone what she had learned fromSophy Viner.
"Shall I leave you?" Darrow asked.
"Yes...no..." She moved to the dining-room door, with thehalf-formed purpose of making him pass out, and then turnedback. "It may be Adelaide."They heard the outer door open, and a moment later Owenwalked into the room. He was pale, with excited eyes: asthey fell on Darrow, Anna saw his start of wonder. He made aslight sign of recognition, and then went up to his step-mother with an air of exaggerated gaiety.
"You furtive28 person! I ran across the omniscient29 Adelaideand heard from her that you'd rushed up suddenly andsecretly " He stood between Anna and Darrow, strained,questioning, dangerously on edge.
"I came up to meet Mr. Darrow," Anna answered. "His leave'sbeen prolonged--he's going back with me."The words seemed to have uttered themselves without herwill, yet she felt a great sense of freedom as she spokethem.
The hard tension of Owen's face changed to increduloussurprise. He looked at Darrow.
"The merest luck...a colleague whose wife was ill...I camestraight back," she heard the latter tranquilly30 explaining.
His self-command helped to steady her, and she smiled atOwen.
"We'll all go back together tomorrow morning," she said asshe slipped her arm through his.
收听单词发音 |
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apprised
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| v.告知，通知( apprise的过去式和过去分词 )；评价 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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defer
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| vt.推迟，拖延；vi.(to)遵从，听从，服从 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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buffet
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| n.自助餐；饮食柜台；餐台 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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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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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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tinkle
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| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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futility
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| n.无用 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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condemning
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| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的现在分词 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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omniscient
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| adj.无所不知的；博识的 | |
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tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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