Some people contended that the reason Mademoiselle Reisz always chose apartments up under the roof was to discourage the approach of beggars, peddlars and callers. There were plenty of windows in her little front room. They were for the most part dingy1, but as they were nearly always open it did not make so much difference. They often admitted into the room a good deal of smoke and soot2; but at the same time all the light and air that there was came through them. From her windows could be seen the crescent of the river, the masts of ships and the big chimneys of the Mississippi steamers. A magnificent piano crowded the apartment. In the next room she slept, and in the third and last she harbored a gasoline stove on which she cooked her meals when disinclined to descend3 to the neighboring restaurant. It was there also that she ate, keeping her belongings4 in a rare old buffet6, dingy and battered7 from a hundred years of use.
When Edna knocked at Mademoiselle Reisz’s front room door and entered, she discovered that person standing8 beside the window, engaged in mending or patching an old prunella gaiter. The little musician laughed all over when she saw Edna. Her laugh consisted of a contortion9 of the face and all the muscles of the body. She seemed strikingly homely10, standing there in the afternoon light. She still wore the shabby lace and the artificial bunch of violets on the side of her head.
“So you remembered me at last,” said Mademoiselle. “I had said to myself, ‘Ah, bah! she will never come.’”
“Did you want me to come?” asked Edna with a smile.
“I had not thought much about it,” answered Mademoiselle. The two had seated themselves on a little bumpy11 sofa which stood against the wall. “I am glad, however, that you came. I have the water boiling back there, and was just about to make some coffee. You will drink a cup with me. And how is la belle12 dame13? Always handsome! always healthy! always contented14!” She took Edna’s hand between her strong wiry fingers, holding it loosely without warmth, and executing a sort of double theme upon the back and palm.
“Yes,” she went on; “I sometimes thought: ‘She will never come. She promised as those women in society always do, without meaning it. She will not come.’ For I really don’t believe you like me, Mrs. Pontellier.”
“I don’t know whether I like you or not,” replied Edna, gazing down at the little woman with a quizzical look.
The candor15 of Mrs. Pontellier’s admission greatly pleased Mademoiselle Reisz. She expressed her gratification by repairing forthwith to the region of the gasoline stove and rewarding her guest with the promised cup of coffee. The coffee and the biscuit accompanying it proved very acceptable to Edna, who had declined refreshment17 at Madame Lebrun’s and was now beginning to feel hungry. Mademoiselle set the tray which she brought in upon a small table near at hand, and seated herself once again on the lumpy sofa.
“I have had a letter from your friend,” she remarked, as she poured a little cream into Edna’s cup and handed it to her.
“My friend?”
“Yes, your friend Robert. He wrote to me from the City of Mexico.”
“Wrote to YOU?” repeated Edna in amazement18, stirring her coffee absently.
“Yes, to me. Why not? Don’t stir all the warmth out of your coffee; drink it. Though the letter might as well have been sent to you; it was nothing but Mrs. Pontellier from beginning to end.”
“Let me see it,” requested the young woman, entreatingly19.
“No; a letter concerns no one but the person who writes it and the one to whom it is written.”
“Haven’t you just said it concerned me from beginning to end?”
“It was written about you, not to you. ‘Have you seen Mrs. Pontellier? How is she looking?’ he asks. ‘As Mrs. Pontellier says,’ or ‘as Mrs. Pontellier once said.’ ‘If Mrs. Pontellier should call upon you, play for her that Impromptu20 of Chopin’s , my favorite. I heard it here a day or two ago, but not as you play it. I should like to know how it affects her,’ and so on, as if he supposed we were constantly in each other’s society.”
“Let me see the letter.”
“Oh, no.”
“Have you answered it?”
“No.”
“Let me see the letter.”
“No, and again, no.”
“Then play the Impromptu for me.”
“It is growing late; what time do you have to be home?”
“Time doesn’t concern me. Your question seems a little rude. Play the Impromptu.”
“But you have told me nothing of yourself. What are you doing?”
“Painting!” laughed Edna. “I am becoming an artist. Think of it!”
“Ah! an artist! You have pretensions21, Madame.”
“Why pretensions? Do you think I could not become an artist?”
“I do not know you well enough to say. I do not know your talent or your temperament22. To be an artist includes much; one must possess many gifts-absolute gifts-which have not been acquired by one’s own effort. And, moreover, to succeed, the artist must possess the courageous23 soul.”
“What do you mean by the courageous soul?”
“Courageous, ma foi! The brave soul. The soul that dares and defies.”
“Show me the letter and play for me the Impromptu. You see that I have persistence24. Does that quality count for anything in art?”
“It counts with a foolish old woman whom you have captivated,” replied Mademoiselle, with her wriggling25 laugh.
The letter was right there at hand in the drawer of the little table upon which Edna had just placed her coffee cup. Mademoiselle opened the drawer and drew forth16 the letter, the topmost one. She placed it in Edna’s hands, and without further comment arose and went to the piano.
Mademoiselle played a soft interlude. It was an improvisation26. She sat low at the instrument, and the lines of her body settled into ungraceful curves and angles that gave it an appearance of deformity. Gradually and imperceptibly the interlude melted into the soft opening minor27 chords of the Chopin Impromptu.
Edna did not know when the Impromptu began or ended. She sat in the sofa corner reading Robert’s letter by the fading light. Mademoiselle had glided28 from the Chopin into the quivering love notes of Isolde’s song, and back again to the Impromptu with its soulful and poignant29 longing5.
The shadows deepened in the little room. The music grew strange and fantastic-turbulent, insistent30, plaintive31 and soft with entreaty32. The shadows grew deeper. The music filled the room. It floated out upon the night, over the housetops, the crescent of the river, losing itself in the silence of the upper air.
Edna was sobbing33, just as she had wept one midnight at Grand Isle34 when strange, new voices awoke in her. She arose in some agitation35 to take her departure. “May I come again, Mademoiselle?” she asked at the threshold.
“Come whenever you feel like it. Be careful; the stairs and landings are dark; don’t stumble.”
Mademoiselle reentered and lit a candle. Robert’s letter was on the floor. She stooped and picked it up. It was crumpled36 and damp with tears. Mademoiselle smoothed the letter out, restored it to the envelope, and replaced it in the table drawer.
收听单词发音 |
1
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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buffet
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| n.自助餐；饮食柜台；餐台 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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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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contortion
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| n.扭弯，扭歪，曲解 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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bumpy
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| adj.颠簸不平的，崎岖的 | |
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belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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dame
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| n.女士 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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candor
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| n.坦白，率真 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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entreatingly
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| 哀求地，乞求地 | |
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impromptu
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| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
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pretensions
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| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
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22
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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23
courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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24
persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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25
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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26
improvisation
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| n.即席演奏(或演唱)；即兴创作 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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28
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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29
poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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30
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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31
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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32
entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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33
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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34
isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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35
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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36
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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