As she lurched (for she rolled like a ship at sea) and leered (for her eyesfell on nothing directly, but with a sidelong glance that deprecated thescorn and anger of the world—she was witless, she knew it), as sheclutched the banisters and hauled herself upstairs and rolled from roomto room, she sang. Rubbing the glass of the long looking-glass and leeringsideways at her swinging figure a sound issued from herlips—something that had been gay twenty years before on the stage perhaps,had been hummed and danced to, but now, coming from thetoothless, bonneted1, care-taking woman, was robbed of meaning, waslike the voice of witlessness, humour, persistency2 itself, trodden downbut springing up again, so that as she lurched, dusting, wiping, sheseemed to say how it was one long sorrow and trouble, how it was gettingup and going to bed again, and bringing things out and puttingthem away again. It was not easy or snug3 this world she had known forclose on seventy years. Bowed down she was with weariness. How long,she asked, creaking and groaning4 on her knees under the bed, dustingthe boards, how long shall it endure? but hobbled to her feet again,pulled herself up, and again with her sidelong leer which slipped andturned aside even from her own face, and her own sorrows, stood andgaped in the glass, aimlessly smiling, and began again the old amble5 andhobble, taking up mats, putting down china, looking sideways in theglass, as if, after all, she had her consolations6, as if indeed there twinedabout her dirge7 some incorrigible8 hope. Visions of joy there must havebeen at the wash-tub, say with her children (yet two had been base-bornand one had deserted9 her), at the public-house, drinking; turning overscraps in her drawers. Some cleavage of the dark there must have been,some channel in the depths of obscurity through which light enough issuedto twist her face grinning in the glass and make her, turning to herjob again, mumble10 out the old music hall song. The mystic, the visionary,walking the beach on a fine night, stirring a puddle11, looking at a stone,asking themselves "What am I," "What is this?" had suddenly an answervouchsafed them: (they could not say what it was) so that they werewarm in the frost and had comfort in the desert. But Mrs McNab continuedto drink and gossip as before.
1 bonneted | |
发动机前置的 | |
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2 persistency | |
n. 坚持(余辉, 时间常数) | |
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3 snug | |
adj.温暖舒适的,合身的,安全的;v.使整洁干净,舒适地依靠,紧贴;n.(英)酒吧里的私房 | |
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4 groaning | |
adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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5 amble | |
vi.缓行,漫步 | |
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6 consolations | |
n.安慰,慰问( consolation的名词复数 );起安慰作用的人(或事物) | |
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7 dirge | |
n.哀乐,挽歌,庄重悲哀的乐曲 | |
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8 incorrigible | |
adj.难以纠正的,屡教不改的 | |
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9 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
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10 mumble | |
n./v.喃喃而语,咕哝 | |
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11 puddle | |
n.(雨)水坑,泥潭 | |
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