JUST such a revolt as she had felt as a girl, such a disgustedrecoil from the standards and ideals of everybody about her ashad flung her into her mad marriage with Nick, now flamed inSusy Lansing's bosom2.
How could she ever go back into that world again? How echo itsappraisals of life and bow down to its judgments3? Alas4, it wasonly by marrying according to its standards that she couldescape such subjection. Perhaps the same thought had actuatedNick: perhaps he had understood sooner than she that to attainmoral freedom they must both be above material cares.
Perhaps ...
Her talk with Ellie Vanderlyn had left Susy so oppressed andhumiliated that she almost shrank from her meeting withAltringham the next day. She knew that he was coming to Parisfor his final answer; he would wait as long as was necessary ifonly she would consent to take immediate5 steps for a divorce.
She was staying at a modest hotel in the Faubourg St. Germain,and had once more refused his suggestion that they should lunchat the Nouveau Luxe, or at some fashionable restaurant of theBoulevards. As before, she insisted on going to an out-of-the-way place near the Luxembourg, where the prices were moderateenough for her own purse.
"I can't understand," Strefford objected, as they turned fromher hotel door toward this obscure retreat, "why you insist ongiving me bad food, and depriving me of the satisfaction ofbeing seen with you. Why must we be so dreadfully clandestine6?
Don't people know by this time that we're to be married?"Susy winced7 a little: she wondered if the word would alwayssound so unnatural8 on his lips.
"No," she said, with a laugh, "they simply think, for thepresent, that you're giving me pearls and chinchilla cloaks."He wrinkled his brows good-humouredly. "Well, so I would, withjoy--at this particular minute. Don't you think perhaps you'dbetter take advantage of it? I don't wish to insist--but Iforesee that I'm much too rich not to become stingy."She gave a slight shrug9. "At present there's nothing I loathemore than pearls and chinchilla, or anything else in the worldthat's expensive and enviable ...."Suddenly she broke off, colouring with the consciousness thatshe had said exactly the kind of thing that all the women whowere trying for him (except the very cleverest) would be sure tosay; and that he would certainly suspect her of attempting theconventional comedy of disinterestedness10, than which nothing wasless likely to deceive or to flatter him.
His twinkling eyes played curiously11 over her face, and she wenton, meeting them with a smile: "But don't imagine, all thesame, that if I should ... decide ... it would be altogether foryour beaux yeux ...."He laughed, she thought, rather drily. "No," he said, "I don'tsuppose that's ever likely to happen to me again.""Oh, Streff--" she faltered12 with compunction. It was odd-onceupon a time she had known exactly what to say to the man of themoment, whoever he was, and whatever kind of talk he required;she had even, in the difficult days before her marriage, reeledoff glibly13 enough the sort of lime-light sentimentality thatplunged poor Fred Gillow into such speechless beatitude. Butsince then she had spoken the language of real love, looked withits eyes, embraced with its hands; and now the other trumperyart had failed her, and she was conscious of bungling14 andgroping like a beginner under Strefford's ironic15 scrutiny16.
They had reached their obscure destination and he opened thedoor and glanced in.
"It's jammed--not a table. And stifling17! Where shall we go?
Perhaps they could give us a room to ourselves--" he suggested.
She assented18, and they were led up a cork-screw staircase to asquat-ceilinged closet lit by the arched top of a high window,the lower panes19 of which served for the floor below. Streffordopened the window, and Susy, throwing her cloak on the divan20,leaned on the balcony while he ordered luncheon21.
On the whole she was glad they were to be alone. Just becauseshe felt so sure of Strefford it seemed ungenerous to keep himlonger in suspense22. The moment had come when they must have adecisive talk, and in the crowded rooms below it would have beenimpossible.
Strefford, when the waiter had brought the first course and leftthem to themselves, made no effort to revert23 to personalmatters. He turned instead to the topic always most congenialto him: the humours and ironies24 of the human comedy, aspresented by his own particular group. His malicious25 commentaryon life had always amused Susy because of the shrewd flashes ofphilosophy he shed on the social antics they had so oftenwatched together. He was in fact the one person she knew(excepting Nick) who was in the show and yet outside of it; andshe was surprised, as the talk proceeded, to find herself solittle interested in his scraps26 of gossip, and so little amusedby his comments on them.
With an inward shrug of discouragement she said to herself thatprobably nothing would ever really amuse her again; then, as shelistened, she began to understand that her disappointment arosefrom the fact that Strefford, in reality, could not live withoutthese people whom he saw through and satirized27, and that therather commonplace scandals he narrated28 interested him as muchas his own racy considerations on them; and she was filled withterror at the thought that the inmost core of the richly-decorated life of the Countess of Altringham would be just aspoor and low-ceilinged a place as the little room in which heand she now sat, elbow to elbow yet so unapproachably apart.
If Strefford could not live without these people, neither couldshe and Nick; but for reasons how different! And if hisopportunities had been theirs, what a world they would havecreated for themselves! Such imaginings were vain, and sheshrank back from them into the present. After all, as LadyAltringham she would have the power to create that world whichshe and Nick had dreamed ... only she must create it alone.
Well, that was probably the law of things. All human happinesswas thus conditioned and circumscribed29, and hers, no doubt, mustalways be of the lonely kind, since material things did notsuffice for it, even though it depended on them as GraceFulmer's, for instance, never had. Yet even Grace Fulmer hadsuccumbed to Ursula's offer, and had arrived at Ruan the daybefore Susy left, instead of going to Spain with her husband andViolet Melrose. But then Grace was making the sacrifice for herchildren, and somehow one had the feeling that in giving up herliberty she was not surrendering a tittle of herself. All thedifference was there ....
"How I do bore you!" Susy heard Strefford exclaim. She becameaware that she had not been listening: stray echoes of names ofplaces and people--Violet Melrose, Ursula, Prince Altineri,others of their group and persuasion--had vainly knocked at herbarricaded brain; what had he been telling her about them? Sheturned to him and their eyes met; his were full of a melancholyirony.
"Susy, old girl, what's wrong?"She pulled herself together. "I was thinking, Streff, justnow--when I said I hated the very sound of pearls andchinchilla--how impossible it was that you should believe me; infact, what a blunder I'd made in saying it."He smiled. "Because it was what so many other women might belikely to say so awfully30 unoriginal, in fact?"She laughed for sheer joy at his insight. "It's going to beeasier than I imagined," she thought. Aloud she rejoined: "Oh,Streff--how you're always going to find me out! Where on earthshall I ever hide from you?""Where?" He echoed her laugh, laying his hand lightly on hers.
"In my heart, I'm afraid."In spite of the laugh his accent shook her: something about ittook all the mockery from his retort, checked on her lips the:
"What? A valentine!" and made her suddenly feel that, if hewere afraid, so was she. Yet she was touched also, and wonderedhalf exultingly31 if any other woman had ever caught thatparticular deep inflexion of his shrill32 voice. She had neverliked him as much as at that moment; and she said to herself,with an odd sense of detachment, as if she had been ratherbreathlessly observing the vacillations of someone whom shelonged to persuade but dared not: "Now--NOW, if he speaks, Ishall say yes!"He did not speak; but abruptly33, and as startlingly to her as ifshe had just dropped from a sphere whose inhabitants had othermethods of expressing their sympathy, he slipped his arm aroundher and bent34 his keen ugly melting face to hers ....
It was the lightest touch--in an instant she was free again.
But something within her gasped35 and resisted long after his armand his lips were gone, and he was proceeding36, with a too-studied ease, to light a cigarette and sweeten his coffee.
He had kissed her .... Well, naturally: why not? It was notthe first time she had been kissed. It was true that one didn'thabitually associate Streff with such demonstrations37; but shehad not that excuse for surprise, for even in Venice she hadbegun to notice that he looked at her differently, and avoidedher hand when he used to seek it.
No--she ought not to have been surprised; nor ought a kiss tohave been so disturbing. Such incidents had punctuated38 thecareer of Susy Branch: there had been, in particular, in far-off discarded times, Fred Gillow's large but artless embraces.
Well--nothing of that kind had seemed of any more account thanthe click of a leaf in a woodland walk. It had all been merelyepidermal, ephemeral, part of the trivial accepted "business" ofthe social comedy. But this kiss of Strefford's was what Nick'shad been, under the New Hampshire pines, on the day that haddecided their fate. It was a kiss with a future in it: like aring slipped upon her soul. And now, in the dreadful pause thatfollowed--while Strefford fidgeted with his cigarette-case andrattled the spoon in his cup, Susy remembered what she had seenthrough the circle of Nick's kiss: that blue illimitabledistance which was at once the landscape at their feet and thefuture in their souls ....
Perhaps that was what Strefford's sharply narrowed eyes wereseeing now, that same illimitable distance that she had lostforever--perhaps he was saying to himself, as she had said toherself when her lips left Nick's: "Each time we kiss we shallsee it all again ...." Whereas all she herself had felt was thegasping recoil1 from Strefford's touch, and an intenser vision ofthe sordid41 room in which he and she sat, and of their twoselves, more distant from each other than if their embrace hadbeen a sudden thrusting apart ....
The moment prolonged itself, and they sat numb42. How long had itlasted? How long ago was it that she had thought: "It's goingto be easier than I imagined"? Suddenly she felt Strefford'squeer smile upon her, and saw in his eyes a look, not ofreproach or disappointment, but of deep and anxiouscomprehension. Instead of being angry or hurt, he had seen, hehad understood, he was sorry for her!
Impulsively she slipped her hand into his, and they sat silentfor another moment. Then he stood up and took her cloak fromthe divan. "Shall we go now! I've got cards for the privateview of the Reynolds exhibition at the Petit Palais. There aresome portraits from Altringham. It might amuse you."In the taxi she had time, through their light rattle40 of talk, toreadjust herself and drop back into her usual feeling offriendly ease with him. He had been extraordinarilyconsiderate, for anyone who always so undisguisedly sought hisown satisfaction above all things; and if his consideratenesswere just an indirect way of seeking that satisfaction now,well, that proved how much he cared for her, how necessary tohis happiness she had become. The sense of power was undeniablypleasant; pleasanter still was the feeling that someone reallyneeded her, that the happiness of the man at her side dependedon her yes or no. She abandoned herself to the feeling,forgetting the abysmal43 interval44 of his caress45, or at leastsaying to herself that in time she would forget it, that reallythere was nothing to make a fuss about in being kissed by anyoneshe liked as much as Streff ....
She had guessed at once why he was taking her to see theReynoldses. Fashionable and artistic46 Paris had recentlydiscovered English eighteenth century art. The principalcollections of England had yielded up their best examples of thegreat portrait painter's work, and the private view at the PetitPalais was to be the social event of the afternoon. Everybody--Strefford's everybody and Susy's--was sure to be there; andthese, as she knew, were the occasions that revived Strefford'sintermittent interest in art. He really liked picture shows asmuch as the races, if one could be sure of seeing as many peoplethere. With Nick how different it would have been! Nick hatedopenings and varnishing47 days, and worldly aesthetics48 in general;he would have waited till the tide of fashion had ebbed49, andslipped off with Susy to see the pictures some morning when theywere sure to have the place to themselves.
But Susy divined that there was another reason for Strefford'ssuggestion. She had never yet shown herself with him publicly,among their own group of people: now he had determined50 that sheshould do so, and she knew why. She had humbled51 his pride; hehad understood, and forgiven her. But she still continued totreat him as she had always treated the Strefford of old,Charlie Strefford, dear old negligible impecunious52 Streff; andhe wanted to show her, ever so casually53 and adroitly54, that theman who had asked her to marry him was no longer Strefford, butLord Altringham.
At the very threshold, his Ambassador's greeting marked thedifference: it was followed, wherever they turned, byejaculations of welcome from the rulers of the world they movedin. Everybody rich enough or titled enough, or clever enough orstupid enough, to have forced a way into the social citadel55, wasthere, waving and flag-flying from the battlements; and to allof them Lord Altringham had become a marked figure. Duringtheir slow progress through the dense56 mass of important peoplewho made the approach to the pictures so well worth fightingfor, he never left Susy's side, or failed to make her feelherself a part of his triumphal advance. She heard her namementioned: "Lansing--a Mrs. Lansing--an American ... SusyLansing? Yes, of course .... You remember her? At Newport, AtSt. Moritz? Exactly.... Divorced already? They say so ...
Susy darling! I'd no idea you were here ... and LordAltringham! You've forgotten me, I know, Lord Altringham ....
Yes, last year, in Cairo ... or at Newport ... or in Scotland... Susy, dearest, when will you bring Lord Altringham to dine?
Any night that you and he are free I'll arrange to be ....""You and he": they were "you and he" already!
"Ah, there's one of them--of my great-grandmothers," Streffordexplained, giving a last push that drew him and Susy to thefront rank, before a tall isolated57 portrait which, by sheermajesty of presentment, sat in its great carved golden frame ason a throne above the other pictures.
Susy read on the scroll58 beneath it: "The Hon'ble Diana Lefanu,fifteenth Countess of Altringham"--and heard Strefford say: "Doyou remember? It hangs where you noticed the empty space abovethe mantel-piece, in the Vandyke room. They say Reynoldsstipulated that it should be put with the Vandykes."She had never before heard him speak of his possessions, whetherancestral or merely material, in just that full and satisfiedtone of voice: the rich man's voice. She saw that he wasalready feeling the influence of his surroundings, that he wasglad the portrait of a Countess of Altringham should occupy thecentral place in the principal room of the exhibition, that thecrowd about it should be denser59 there than before any of theother pictures, and that he should be standing60 there with Susy,letting her feel, and letting all the people about them guess,that the day she chose she could wear the same name as hispictured ancestress.
On the way back to her hotel, Strefford made no farther allusionto their future; they chatted like old comrades in theirrespective corners of the taxi. But as the carriage stopped ather door he said: "I must go back to England the day after to-morrow, worse luck! Why not dine with me to-night at theNouveau Luxe? I've got to have the Ambassador and Lady Ascot,with their youngest girl and my old Dunes61 aunt, the DowagerDuchess, who's over here hiding from her creditors62; but I'll tryto get two or three amusing men to leaven63 the lump. We might goon to a boite afterward64, if you're bored. Unless the dancingamuses you more ...."She understood that he had decided39 to hasten his departurerather than linger on in uncertainty65; she also remembered havingheard the Ascots' youngest daughter, Lady Joan Senechal, spokenof as one of the prettiest girls of the season; and she recalledthe almost exaggerated warmth of the Ambassador's greeting atthe private view.
"Of course I'll come, Streff dear!" she cried, with an effort atgaiety that sounded successful to her own strained ears, andreflected itself in the sudden lighting66 up of his face.
She waved a good-bye from the step, saying to herself, as shelooked after him: "He'll drive me home to-night, and I shallsay 'yes'; and then he'll kiss me again. But the next time itwon't be nearly as disagreeable."She turned into the hotel, glanced automatically at the emptypigeon-hole for letters under her key-hook, and mounted thestairs following the same train of images. "Yes, I shall say'yes' to-night," she repeated firmly, her hand on the door ofher room. "That is, unless, they've brought up a letter ...."She never re-entered the hotel without imagining that the lettershe had not found below had already been brought up.
Opening the door, she turned on the light and sprang to thetable on which her correspondence sometimes awaited her.
There was no letter; but the morning papers, still unread, layat hand, and glancing listlessly down the column whichchronicles the doings of society, she read:
"After an extended cruise in the AEgean and the Black Sea ontheir steam-yacht Ibis, Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer Hicks and theirdaughter are established at the Nouveau Luxe in Rome. They havelately had the honour of entertaining at dinner the ReigningPrince of Teutoburger-Waldhain and his mother the PrincessDowager, with their suite67. Among those invited to meet theirSerene Highnesses were the French and Spanish Ambassadors, theDuchesse de Vichy, Prince and Princess Bagnidilucca, LadyPenelope Pantiles--" Susy's eye flew impatiently on over thelong list of titles--"and Mr. Nicholas Lansing of New York, whohas been cruising with Mr. and Mrs. Hicks on the Ibis for thelast few months."
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recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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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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judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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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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clandestine
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| adj.秘密的，暗中从事的 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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disinterestedness
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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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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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bungling
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| adj.笨拙的，粗劣的v.搞糟，完不成( bungle的现在分词 )；笨手笨脚地做；失败；完不成 | |
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ironic
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| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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divan
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| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
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luncheon
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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revert
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| v.恢复，复归，回到 | |
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ironies
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| n.反语( irony的名词复数 )；冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事；嘲弄 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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satirized
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narrated
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circumscribed
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| adj.[医]局限的：受限制或限于有限空间的v.在…周围划线( circumscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；划定…范围；限制；限定 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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exultingly
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| 兴高采烈地，得意地 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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abruptly
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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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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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demonstrations
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| 证明( demonstration的名词复数 )； 表明； 表达； 游行示威 | |
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punctuated
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| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的过去式和过去分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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abysmal
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| adj.无底的，深不可测的，极深的；糟透的，极坏的；完全的 | |
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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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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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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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varnishing
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| 在（某物）上涂清漆( varnish的现在分词 ) | |
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aesthetics
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| n.(尤指艺术方面之)美学，审美学 | |
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ebbed
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的过去式和过去分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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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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impecunious
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| adj.不名一文的，贫穷的 | |
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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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adroitly
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| adv.熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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citadel
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| n.城堡；堡垒；避难所 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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scroll
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| n.卷轴，纸卷；(石刻上的)漩涡 | |
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denser
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| adj. 不易看透的, 密集的, 浓厚的, 愚钝的 | |
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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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61
dunes
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| 沙丘( dune的名词复数 ) | |
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creditors
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| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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63
leaven
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| v.使发酵；n.酵母；影响 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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