Victor, with hammer and nails and scraps1 of scantling, was patching a corner of one of the galleries. Mariequita sat near by, dangling2 her legs, watching him work, and handing him nails from the tool-box. The sun was beating down upon them. The girl had covered her head with her apron3 folded into a square pad. They had been talking for an hour or more. She was never tired of hearing Victor describe the dinner at Mrs. Pontellier’s . He exaggerated every detail, making it appear a veritable Lucullean feast. The flowers were in tubs, he said. The champagne4 was quaffed5 from huge golden goblets6. Venus rising from the foam7 could have presented no more entrancing a spectacle than Mrs. Pontellier, blazing with beauty and diamonds at the head of the board, while the other women were all of them youthful houris, possessed8 of incomparable charms. She got it into her head that Victor was in love with Mrs. Pontellier, and he gave her evasive answers, framed so as to confirm her belief. She grew sullen9 and cried a little, threatening to go off and leave him to his fine ladies. There were a dozen men crazy about her at the Cheniere; and since it was the fashion to be in love with married people, why, she could run away any time she liked to New Orleans with Celina’s husband.
Celina’s husband was a fool, a coward, and a pig, and to prove it to her, Victor intended to hammer his head into a jelly the next time he encountered him. This assurance was very consoling to Mariequita. She dried her eyes, and grew cheerful at the prospect10.
They were still talking of the dinner and the allurements11 of city life when Mrs. Pontellier herself slipped around the corner of the house. The two youngsters stayed dumb with amazement12 before what they considered to be an apparition13. But it was really she in flesh and blood, looking tired and a little travel-stained.
“I walked up from the wharf”, she said, “and heard the hammering. I supposed it was you, mending the porch. It’s a good thing. I was always tripping over those loose planks14 last summer. How dreary15 and deserted16 everything looks!”
It took Victor some little time to comprehend that she had come in Beaudelet’s lugger, that she had come alone, and for no purpose but to rest.
“There’s nothing fixed17 up yet, you see. I’ll give you my room; it’s the only place.”
“Any corner will do,” she assured him.
“And if you can stand Philomel’s cooking,” he went on, “though I might try to get her mother while you are here. Do you think she would come?” turning to Mariequita.
Mariequita thought that perhaps Philomel’s mother might come for a few days, and money enough.
Beholding18 Mrs. Pontellier make her appearance, the girl had at once suspected a lovers’ rendezvous19. But Victor’s astonishment20 was so genuine, and Mrs. Pontellier’s indifference21 so apparent, that the disturbing notion did not lodge22 long in her brain. She contemplated23 with the greatest interest this woman who gave the most sumptuous24 dinners in America, and who had all the men in New Orleans at her feet.
“What time will you have dinner?” asked Edna. “I’m very hungry; but don’t get anything extra.”
“I’ll have it ready in little or no time,” he said, bustling25 and packing away his tools. “You may go to my room to brush up and rest yourself. Mariequita will show you.”
“Thank you”, said Edna. “But, do you know, I have a notion to go down to the beach and take a good wash and even a little swim, before dinner?”
“The water is too cold!” they both exclaimed. “Don’t think of it.”
“Well, I might go down and try-dip my toes in. Why, it seems to me the sun is hot enough to have warmed the very depths of the ocean. Could you get me a couple of towels? I’d better go right away, so as to be back in time. It would be a little too chilly26 if I waited till this afternoon.”
Mariequita ran over to Victor’s room, and returned with some towels, which she gave to Edna.
“I hope you have fish for dinner,” said Edna, as she started to walk away; “but don’t do anything extra if you haven’t.”
“Run and find Philomel’s mother,” Victor instructed the girl. “I’ll go to the kitchen and see what I can do. By Gimminy! Women have no consideration! She might have sent me word.”
Edna walked on down to the beach rather mechanically, not noticing anything special except that the sun was hot. She was not dwelling27 upon any particular train of thought. She had done all the thinking which was necessary after Robert went away, when she lay awake upon the sofa till morning.
She had said over and over to herself: “To-day it is Arobin; to-morrow it will be some one else. It makes no difference to me, it doesn’t matter about Leonce Pontellier-but Raoul and Etienne!” She understood now clearly what she had meant long ago when she said to Adele Ratignolle that she would give up the unessential, but she would never sacrifice herself for her children.
Despondency had come upon her there in the wakeful night, and had never lifted. There was no one thing in the world that she desired. There was no human being whom she wanted near her except Robert; and she even realized that the day would come when he, too, and the thought of him would melt out of her existence, leaving her alone. The children appeared before her like antagonists28 who had overcome her; who had overpowered and sought to drag her into the soul’s slavery for the rest of her days. But she knew a way to elude29 them. She was not thinking of these things when she walked down to the beach.
The water of the Gulf30 stretched out before her, gleaming with the million lights of the sun. The voice of the sea is seductive, never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting31 the soul to wander in abysses of solitude32. All along the white beach, up and down, there was no living thing in sight. A bird with a broken wing was beating the air above, reeling, fluttering, circling disabled down, down to the water.
Edna had found her old bathing suit still hanging, faded, upon its accustomed peg33.
She put it on, leaving her clothing in the bath-house. But when she was there beside the sea, absolutely alone, she cast the unpleasant, pricking34 garments from her, and for the first time in her life she stood naked in the open air, at the mercy of the sun, the breeze that beat upon her, and the waves that invited her.
How strange and awful it seemed to stand naked under the sky! how delicious! She felt like some new-born creature, opening its eyes in a familiar world that it had never known.
The foamy35 wavelets curled up to her white feet, and coiled like serpents about her ankles. She walked out. The water was chill, but she walked on. The water was deep, but she lifted her white body and reached out with a long, sweeping36 stroke. The touch of the sea is sensuous37, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
She went on and on. She remembered the night she swam far out, and recalled the terror that seized her at the fear of being unable to regain38 the shore. She did not look back now, but went on and on, thinking of the blue-grass meadow that she had traversed when a little child, believing that it had no beginning and no end.
Her arms and legs were growing tired.
She thought of Leonce and the children. They were a part of her life. But they need not have thought that they could possess her, body and soul. How Mademoiselle Reisz would have laughed, perhaps sneered39, if she knew! “And you call yourself an artist! What pretensions40, Madame! The artist must possess the courageous41 soul that dares and defies.”
Exhaustion42 was pressing upon and overpowering her.
“Good-by-because I love you.” He did not know; he did not understand. He would never understand. Perhaps Doctor Mandelet would have understood if she had seen him-but it was too late; the shore was far behind her, and her strength was gone.
She looked into the distance, and the old terror flamed up for an instant, then sank again. Edna heard her father’s voice and her sister Margaret’s . She heard the barking of an old dog that was chained to the sycamore tree. The spurs of the cavalry43 officer clanged as he walked across the porch. There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air.
The End
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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quaffed
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| v.痛饮( quaff的过去式和过去分词 )；畅饮；大口大口将…喝干；一饮而尽 | |
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goblets
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| n.高脚酒杯( goblet的名词复数 ) | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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allurements
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| n.诱惑( allurement的名词复数 )；吸引；诱惑物；有诱惑力的事物 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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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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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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antagonists
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| 对立[对抗] 者，对手，敌手( antagonist的名词复数 )； 对抗肌； 对抗药 | |
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elude
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| v.躲避，困惑 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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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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peg
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| n.木栓，木钉；vt.用木钉钉，用短桩固定 | |
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pricking
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| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
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foamy
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| adj.全是泡沫的，泡沫的，起泡沫的 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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sensuous
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| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
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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courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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42
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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