When Wilfrid left Adrian’s room at the Museum, he had no plan or direction in his mind, and walked along like a man in one of those dreams where the theme is repeated over and over, and the only end is awakening1. He went down the Kingsway to the Embankment, came to Westminster Bridge, turned on to it, and stood leaning over the parapet. A jump, and he would be out of it! The tide was running down — English water escaping to the seas, nevermore to come back, glad to go! Escape! Escape from all those who made him think of himself. To be rid of this perpetual self-questioning and self-consciousness! To end this damned mawkish2 indecision, this puling concern as to whether one would hurt her too much! But of course one would not hurt her too much! She would cry and get over it. Sentiment had betrayed him once! Not again! By God! Not again!
He stood there a long time, leaning on the parapet, watching the bright water and the craft creeping by; and every now and then a passing Cockney would stand beside him, as if convinced that he was looking out at something of sensational3 interest. And he was! He was seeing his own life finally ‘in the blue,’ unmoored, careering like the Flying Dutchman on far waters to the far ends of the world. But at least without need for bravado4, kowtowing, appeal, or pretence5, under his own flag, and that not at half-mast.
“I’ve ‘eard,” said a voice, “that lookin’ at the water long enough will make ’em jump sometimes.”
Wilfrid shuddered6 and walked away. God! How raw and jagged one had got! He walked off the bridge past the end of Whitehall into St. James’s Park, skirted the long water up to the geraniums and the large stone males, females, and fruits in front of the Palace, passed into the Green Park, and threw himself down on the dry grass. He lay there perhaps an hour on his back with his hand over his eyes, grateful for the sun soaking into him. When he got up he felt dizzy, and had to stand some minutes to get his balance before moving towards Hyde Park Corner. He had gone but a little way when he started and swerved7 off to the right. Coming towards him, nearer the riding track, were a young woman and a little boy. Dinny! He had seen her gasp8, her hand go to her heart. And he had swerved and walked away. It was brutal9, horrible, but it was final. So a man, who had thrust a dagger10 home, would feel. Brutal, horrible, but final! No more indecision! Nothing now but to get away as quick as ever he could! He turned towards his rooms, striding along as if possessed11, his lips drawn12 back in such a smile as a man has in a dentist’s chair. He had stricken down the only woman who had ever seemed to him worth marrying, the only woman for whom he had felt what was worthy13 to be called real love. Well! Better strike her down like that than kill her by living with her! He was as Esau, and as Ishmael, not fit for a daughter of Israel. And a messenger boy turned and stared after him — the pace at which he walked was so foreign to the youth’s habitual14 feelings. He crossed Piccadilly with no concern whatever for its traffic, and plunged15 into the narrow mouth of Bond Street. It suddenly struck him that he would never see Scott’s hats again. The shop had just been shut, but those hats rested in rows, super-conventional hats, tropical hats, ladies’ hats, and specimens16 of the newest Trilby or Homburg, or whatever they called it now. He strode on, rounded the scent17 of Atkinson’s, and came to his own door. There he had to sit down at the foot of the stairs before he could find strength to climb. The spasmodic energy which had followed the shock of seeing her had ebbed18 out in utter lassitude. He was just beginning to mount when Stack and the dog came down. Foch rushed at his legs and stood against him, reaching his head up. Wilfrid crumpled19 his ears. To leave him once more without a master!
“I’m off early tomorrow morning, Stack. To Siam. I probably shan’t be coming back.”
“Not at all, sir?”
“Not at all.”
“Would you like me to come too, sir?”
Wilfrid put his hand on the henchman’s shoulder.
“Jolly good of you, Stack; but you’d be bored to death.”
“Excuse me, sir, but you’re hardly fit to travel alone at present.”
“Perhaps not, but I’m going to.”
The henchman bent20 his eyes on Wilfrid’s face. It was a grave intent gaze, as if he were committing that face finally to heart.
“I’ve been with you a long time, sir.”
“You have, Stack; and nobody could have been nicer to me. I’ve made provision in case anything happens to me. You’d prefer to go on here, I expect, keeping the rooms for when my father wants them.”
“I should be sorry to leave here, if I can’t come with you. Are you sure about that, sir?”
Wilfrid nodded. “Quite sure, Stack. What about Foch?”
Stack hesitated, then said with a rush: “I think I ought to tell you, sir, that when Miss Cherrell was here last — the night you went off to Epping — she said that if you was to go away at any time, she would be glad to have the dog. He’s fond of her, sir.”
Wilfrid’s face became a mask.
“Take him his run,” he said, and went on up the stairs.
His mind was once again in turmoil21. Murder! But it was done! One did not bring a corpse22 to life with longing23 or remorse24. The dog, if she wanted him, was hers, of course! Why did women cling to memories, when all they should wish should be to forget? He sat down at his bureau and wrote:
“I am going away for good. Foch comes to you with this. He is yours if you care to have him. I am only fit to be alone. Forgive me if you can, and forget me.— WILFRID.”
He addressed it, and sat on at the bureau slowly turning his head and looking round the room. Under three months since the day he had come back. He felt as if he had lived a lifetime. Dinny over there at the hearth25, after her father had been! Dinny on the divan26 looking up at him! Dinny here, Dinny there!
Her smile, her eyes, her hair! Dinny, and that memory in the Arab tent, pulling at each other, wrestling for him. Why had he not seen the end from the beginning? He might have known himself! He took a sheet of paper and wrote:
“MY DEAR FATHER,—
“England doesn’t seem to agree with me, and I am starting tomorrow for Siam. My bank will have my address from time to time. Stack will keep things going here as usual, so that the rooms will be ready whenever you want them. I hope you’ll take care of yourself. I’ll try and send you a coin for your collection now and then. Good-bye.
“Yours affectionately,
“WILFRID.”
His father would read it and say: “Dear me! Very sudden! Queer fellow!” And that was about all that anyone would think or say — except —!
He took another sheet of paper and wrote to his bank; then lay down, exhausted27, on the divan.
Stack must pack, he hadn’t the strength. Luckily his passport was in order — that curious document which rendered one independent of one’s kind; that password to whatever loneliness one wanted. The room was very still, for at this hour of lull28 before dinner traffic began there was hardly any noise from the streets. The stuff which he took after attacks of malaria29 had opium30 in it, and a dreamy feeling came over him. He drew a long breath and relaxed. To his half-drugged senses scents31 kept coming — the scent of camels’ dung, of coffee roasting, carpets, spices, and humanity in the Suks, the sharp unscented air of the desert, and the foetid reek32 of some river village; and sounds — the whine33 of beggars, a camel’s coughing grunts34, the cry of the jackal, Muezzin call, padding of donkeys’ feet, tapping of the silversmiths, the creaking and moaning of water being drawn. And before his half-closed eyes visions came floating; a sort of long dream-picture of the East as he had known it. Now it would be another East, further and more strange! . . . He slipped into a real dream. . . .
收听单词发音 |
1
awakening
|
|
| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
mawkish
|
|
| adj.多愁善感的的；无味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
sensational
|
|
| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
bravado
|
|
| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
pretence
|
|
| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
shuddered
|
|
| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
swerved
|
|
| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
gasp
|
|
| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
brutal
|
|
| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
dagger
|
|
| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
habitual
|
|
| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
specimens
|
|
| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
ebbed
|
|
| （指潮水）退( ebb的过去式和过去分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
crumpled
|
|
| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
turmoil
|
|
| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
corpse
|
|
| n.尸体，死尸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
remorse
|
|
| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
hearth
|
|
| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
divan
|
|
| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
lull
|
|
| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
malaria
|
|
| n.疟疾 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
opium
|
|
| n.鸦片；adj.鸦片的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
scents
|
|
| n.香水( scent的名词复数 )；气味；（动物的）臭迹；（尤指狗的）嗅觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
reek
|
|
| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
whine
|
|
| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
grunts
|
|
| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |