Halo had been so moved by the sight of the ailing1 woman and the angry ineffectual old man, left alone in that dismal2 house to heap each other with recriminations, that she communicated her emotion to Vance; and when he proposed going to look for Chris she welcomed the suggestion. “The boy haunts me. To do anything so dishonest he must be in a bad way; and I feel as if we ought to do what we can.”
“Oh, he never meant to be dishonest. When he got to Toulon he probably saw a train starting for Nice, and was tempted3 by the idea of a night’s fun.”
“A night’s fun! But it’s a month since he went away, and it was only a day or two ago that Mrs. Churley’s friend saw him.”
“Well, it’s pretty smart of him to have made the money last as long as that,” Vance rejoined with a laugh; but in reality he too felt a vague pang4 at the thought of the irresponsible boy caught in that sordid5 whirlpool.
In the train his reflexions grew less emotional. It was obviously none of his business to find and reclaim6 Chris, even supposing the latter had deliberately7 deceived them, and used Vance’s money to offer himself a few weeks’ amusement; but there was something so droll8 in this act of defiance9 that Vance, in spite of his pity for the parents, was amused at the idea of being confronted with the son.
He was also acutely interested in the prospect10 of seeing for the first time the pleasure-seeking end of the Riviera. The contrast between Oubli-sur-Mer and the succession of white cities reflected in azure11 waters emphasized the narrowness and monotony of the life he had been leading. Slipping past towering palace hotels, and villas12 girt with lawns and pergolas, he recalled the mouldy blistered14 fronts of the pink house and the Pension Britannique; when, at the stations, flower-girls thrust up great sheaves of freesias and carnations15, he saw the handful of wizened16 anemones17 bargained for by Miss Plummet18 at the market, and brought home to her invalid19 sister; and the motors pouring along wide dustless roads to inviting20 distances evoked21 the lurching omnibus crowded with garlicky peasants which, through clouds of suffocating22 dust, carried Oubli-sur-Mer to Toulon or Marseilles. A few hours earlier the quiet of Oubli had seemed a spiritual necessity; but already the new scenes were working their old spell.
These alternations of mood, which he had once ascribed to instability of aim, no longer troubled him. He knew now that they were only the play of the world of images on his creative faculty23, and that his fundamental self remained unchanged under such shifting impulses. By the time the train reached Nice he was so lost in the visionary architecture of his inner world that the other had become invisible. He gazed at the big station packed with gaily25 dressed people and busy flower-sellers without remembering that it was there he should have got out; and now the guard was crying “Monte Carlo”, and above the station glittered the minarets26 and palms of the Casino.
“Well — why not?” Vance thought. Chris was as likely to be at Monte Carlo as at Nice; it was not probable that he would restrict his pleasure-seeking to one spot. Vance picked up his suit-case and jumped out. . .
Past sloping turf, palms imprisoned27 in bright blue or glaring magenta28 cinerarias, borders of hyacinths and banks of glossy29 shrubs30, he climbed gaily to the polychrome confusion of the Casino. Stretching up from it to a stern mountain-background were villas and restaurants, and café-terraces where brightly dressed people sipped31 cocktails32 under orange-and-white umbrellas. Nearer by were tall hotels with awninged and flowered balconies; rows of taxis and private motors between the lawns and flower-beds before the Casino; young men in tennis flannels34 and young women in brilliant sports~suits, and strollers lounging along the balustraded walks. Among half-tropical trees a band played a gipsy tune35 of de Falla’s, and children with lovely flying hair raced ahead of nurses in long blue veils, who gossiped on the benches or languidly pursued their charges.
Halo would have called it a super-railway poster. She always spoke36 scornfully of the place, resenting such profanation37 of the gray mountain giants above it. In certain moods Vance might have agreed; but today the novelty and brightness struck his fancy, and the trimness of lawns, flowers, houses, satisfied his need of order and harmony. Everything wore the fairy glitter of a travelling circus to a small child in a country town, and the people who passed him looked as unreal, as privileged and condescending38, as the spangled athletes of his infancy40. He sat down on a bench and watched them.
The passing faces were not all young or beautiful; the greater number were elderly, many ugly, some painful or even repulsive41; but almost all wore the same hard glaze42 of prosperity. Vance tried to conjecture43 what the inner lives of such people could be; he pictured them ordering rare delicacies44 in restaurants, buying costly45 cigars and jewels in glittering shops, stepping in and out of deeply-cushioned motors, ogling46 young women or painted youths, as sex and inclination47 prompted. “Chris’s ideal,” he murmured. He decided48 to take a look at the gambling-rooms; but it was luncheon~time, and people were coming out of the Casino, descending39 the steps to their motors or the near-by restaurants. As he stood there he suddenly caught sight of Lorry Spear; and at the same instant Lorry recognized him.
“Hullo, Vance — you? Halo here? I suppose she’s a peg49 above all this. Sent you off on your own, has she? Very white of her. Not staying here, though? Of course not; nobody does. I’m over from Cannes with a party, to lunch on the Gratz Blemers’ yacht — the biggest of her kind, I believe. You knew Blemer had carried off Jet Pulsifer under Tarrant’s very nose? Sharp fellow, Blemer . . . they were secretly married two or three months ago. That accounts for Tarrant’s turning down the divorce, I suppose,” Lorry rattled50 on, his handsome uncertain eyes rambling51 from Vance’s face to search the passing throng52. “I say, though — why not come off to the yacht with us? When I say ‘us,’ I mean Mrs. Glaisher and Imp24 Pevensey, with whom I’m staying at Cannes. Mrs. Glaisher has taken a villa13 there, and we’re working over the final arrangements for ‘Factories’; at least I hope we are,” Lorry added with a dubious53 grin. “With the super-rich you never can tell; at the last minute they’re so darned scared of being done. But if Imp Pevensey can get Mrs. Blemer to take an interest she’s sure that’ll excite Mrs. Glaisher, and make her take the final step. Almost all their philanthropy’s based on rivalry54 . . . Well, so much the better for us . . . See here, my boy, come along; they’ll jump at the chance of seeing you . . . Ah, there’s the very young woman I’m on the look out for!” he exclaimed, darting55 toward a motor which had stopped before an hotel facing the Casino.
It was wonderful how Lorry fitted into the scene. In Montparnasse he had been keen, restless, careless in dress and manner; here he wore the same glossy veneer56 as all the rest. The very cut of his hair and his clothes had been adapted to his setting, and as he slipped through the crowd about the hotel Vance was struck by his resemblance to the other young men strolling in and out of its portals.
He had been amused by Lorry’s invitation. He had no intention of joining Mrs. Glaisher’s party, but that Lorry should propose it after what had passed between them was too characteristic to surprise him. Lorry had obviously forgotten the Glaisher episode, though it had occurred under his own roof; on seeing Vance he had remembered only that the latter was a good fellow whose passing celebrity57 had once been useful to him, and might be again. As Vance waited on the curb58 he thought how jolly it would be to go and lunch at one of those little terrace-restaurants over the sea that he had marked down from the train. After that he would return to Nice, and devise a way of running down Chris.
“Look here, Vance; you will come?” Lorry, rejoining him, grasped his arm with a persuasive59 hand. “No? It’s a pity — the yacht’s a wonder. Not to speak of Blemer and Jet! As a novelist you oughtn’t to miss them . . . Well, so long . . . Oh, by the way; won’t you dine at Cannes tonight instead? At Mrs. Glaisher’s — Villa Mirifique. I’ve just been arranging with that young woman over there to meet us here on our way back from the yacht. She’s coming over to spend a day or two with Mrs. Glaisher, and I’m sure she’d be delighted to drive you to Cannes. Come along and I’ll introduce you.” Lorry, as he spoke, swept Vance across to the hotel door, where a young lady who stood with her back to them was giving an order to her chauffeur60. The motor drove off, and she turned and faced them.
“Floss,” Lorry cried, “here’s a friend of mine, a celebrated61 novelist, who wants a lift to Mrs. Glaisher’s this evening. Of course you’ve heard of Vance Weston — and read ‘The Puritan in Spain’?”
The girl, who had been looking at Lorry, turned interrogatively to Vance. Her movements had a cool deliberateness which seemed to single her out from the empty agitation62 around her. She lifted her dusky eyelids63, and for a few seconds she and Vance looked at each other without speaking; then: “Why, old Van!” she said, in a warm voice flattened64 by the Middle Western drawl.
Vance stood staring. As through a mist of wine he saw this woman, become a stranger to his eyes yet so familiar to his blood. She was very dark; yes, he remembered; a warm dusky pallor, like the sound of her voice; glints of red under her skin, and in the gloom of her hair. She rarely smiled — he remembered that too — when she did it was like a fruit opening to the sun. His veins65 kept the feeling of that sultriness. . .
“Hullo! Old friends, are you? First-rate! Monte Carlo’s the place where nobody ever comes any more, yet where you meet everybody you know. All right — coming!” Lorry cried, gesticulating to a group on the other side of the square. “So long — Villa Mirifique; bring him along, Floss.”
“Oh, I’ll bring him,” said the girl in her indifferent drawl; and Lorry vanished.
Vance continued to look at Floss Delaney. It was not till afterward66 that he noticed the quiet elegance67 of her dress, or remembered that he had seen her getting out of a private motor and giving an order to the chauffeur. He knew that late in life the shiftless Harrison Delaney of Euphoria had stumbled into wealth as accidentally, almost, as, years before, he had sunk into poverty. When Vance had gone home after Laura Lou’s death Euphoria was still ringing with the adventure; Vance remembered the bitterness with which his father, the shrewd indefatigable68 little man who had failed to secure the fortune so often in his grasp, spoke of the idle Delaney’s rise. “A loafer like that — it’s enough to cure a man of ever wanting to do an honest day’s work,” Lorin Weston had growled69. It all came back to Vance afterward; at the moment he was half-dazed by the encounter with this girl who had been the vehicle of his sharpest ecstasy70 and his blackest anguish71. A vehicle; that was what she’d been; all she’d ever been. “The archway to the infinite” — who was it who had called woman that? It was true of a boy’s first love. In the days when Floss Delaney had so enraptured72 and tortured him she had never had any real identity to his untaught heart and senses; she had been simply undifferentiated woman; now for the first time he saw her as an individual, and perceived her peculiar73 loveliness. He gave a little laugh.
“What are you laughing at?” she asked.
“I was thinking I’d nearly shot myself on your account once. Funny, isn’t it?”
“Oh, ‘nearly’ — that’s not much! If you do it again you must aim better,” she said coolly; but he caught the glitter of pleasure in her eyes. “Old Van — only to think of coming across you here!” She slipped her hand through his arm, and they walked across the square and sat down on a bench under overhanging shrubs. “So you’re a celebrity,” she said, her full upper lip lifting in a smile.
“Well, so are you, aren’t you?”
“Because father’s made all that money?” She looked at him doubtfully. “It’s very pleasant,” she said, with a defiant74 tilt75 of her chin.
“And what are you going to do with it all?”
“I don’t know. Just go round, I suppose.”
“Where’s your father? Is he here with you?”
Yes, she told him; she was travelling with her father; they were staying at the hotel to which Vance had just seen her driving up. They had been going around Europe for over a year now: Rome, Paris, Egypt, St. Moritz — all the places they thought might amuse them. But her father wasn’t easy to amuse. He was as lazy as ever; he didn’t so much mind travelling, provided they went to places where he could have a game of cards; but he didn’t care to go round with new people. She would have preferred to be at Cannes, where most of her friends were, and everything was ever so much smarter; but her father had found at Monte Carlo some old cronies whom he had met the winter before at Luxor, and he liked to be with them, or else to play baccarat at the Casino. That day he had gone over to Nice with some of his crowd; she didn’t believe they’d be back till morning. He’d be so surprised to see Vance when he got back. “He’s read your books,” she added, almost ingratiatingly.
“That means you haven’t?”
“Well — I will now.” She glanced about her, and then down at the little jewelled watch on her wrist. “I’m on my own today. Can’t you take me off somewhere to lunch?”
Vance sprang up joyfully76. He felt ravenous77 for food, and as happy as a schoolboy on a holiday. He thought of the terrace-restaurants he had seen from the train, and wondered if they would be grand enough for her. “Let’s go somewhere right over the sea,” he suggested, trying to describe the kind of place he meant. “Not swell78, you know — not a crowd. Just a little terrace with a few tables.” Yes, that was exactly what she wanted; away from the noise, and those awful bands — she knew the very place. It wasn’t far off; a little way down the road toward Cap Martin; but she was too hungry to walk. They took a taxi.
The scene suited her indolent beauty. She was made for the sunlit luxury to which she affected79 such indifference80. At Oubli she would have been a false note; here she seemed to justify81 the general futility82 by the way it became her. As he looked at her, the memory of the Floss Delaney of his boyhood came back to him, struggling through the ripened83 and polished exterior84 of the girl at his side. After all her face had not changed; it had the same midsummer afternoon look, as though her penthouse hair were the shade of a forest, her eyes its secret pools. A still windless face, suggesting the note of stock-doves, the hum of summer insects. Vance had always remembered it so. She hardly ever smiled; and when she laughed, her laugh was a faint throat note that did not affect the repose85 of her features. But her body had grown slenderer yet rounder. Before it had been slightly heavy, its movements slow and awkward; now it was as light as a feather. Halo had fine lines, but was too thin, the bones in her neck were too visible; this girl, who must have been about the same age, and had the same Diana-like curve from shoulder to hip86, was more rounded, and her hands were smaller and plumper than Halo’s, though not so subtle and expressive87.
Vance was glad that he could take note of all this, could even calmly compare Floss Delaney’s appearance with that of the woman he loved; it proved his emotional detachment, and made him feel safe and at his ease.
They sat under a gay awning33, before a red-and-white table-cloth, and ate Proven?al dishes, and drank a fresh native wine. Floss, wrinkling her brows against the sun, stole curious glances at him. “You’ve changed a lot; you’ve grown handsome,” she said suddenly.
He laughed, and flushed to the roots of his hair; but she went on: “I heard you were married; are you?”
He wished she had not put the question; yet a moment later he was glad she had. It was best that everything should be clear between them.
“No; I’m not married — yet. But I expect to be. To Lorry Spear’s sister.”
“Oh,” she murmured, with ironic88 eye-brows. “She’s heard about Halo and me,” he thought; and cursed Mrs. Glaisher.
“Well, I suppose I’ll be married too some day,” she went on, her attention wandering back to herself, as it always did after a moment; and he felt an abrupt89 shock of jealousy90.
“I suppose you’ve got lots of fellows after you.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Anyhow, I’m not going to make up my mind yet; I like my freedom.” She stressed the word voluptuously91, bending her lips to her glass of pale yellow wine, and as he watched her he broke out, from some unconscious depth of himself: “God — how you made me suffer!”
She looked at him with a sort of amused curiosity. “You’re thinking of Euphoria?” He nodded.
“Yes; I was a bad girl, I know — but you were a bad boy; and silly.” Her eyes lingered on him. “I used to love to kiss you. Didn’t you love it? But you didn’t understand — ”
“What?”
“A girl like me had to look out for herself. There was nobody to do it for me. But let’s talk about what we are NOW; what’s the use of going back? This is ever so much more fun. Don’t you like being famous?” She leaned across and laid her brown hand on his. He looked at the polished red nails, and remembered her blunt dirty finger-tips, the day he had picked her up in the road after her bicycle accident. Even then, he thought, she used to spend every cent she could get on paint and perfume. He smiled at himself and her.
收听单词发音 |
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ailing
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| v.生病 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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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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reclaim
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| v.要求归还，收回；开垦 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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villas
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| 别墅，公馆( villa的名词复数 )； （城郊）住宅 | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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carnations
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| n.麝香石竹，康乃馨( carnation的名词复数 ) | |
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wizened
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| adj.凋谢的；枯槁的 | |
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anemones
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| n.银莲花( anemone的名词复数 )；海葵 | |
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plummet
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| vi.(价格、水平等)骤然下跌；n.铅坠；重压物 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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evoked
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suffocating
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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imp
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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minarets
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| n.（清真寺旁由报告祈祷时刻的人使用的）光塔( minaret的名词复数 ) | |
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imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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magenta
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| n..紫红色（的染料）；adj.紫红色的 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cocktails
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| n.鸡尾酒( cocktail的名词复数 )；餐前开胃菜；混合物 | |
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awning
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| n.遮阳篷；雨篷 | |
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flannels
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| 法兰绒男裤； 法兰绒( flannel的名词复数 ) | |
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tune
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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profanation
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| n.亵渎 | |
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condescending
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| adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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glaze
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| v.因疲倦、疲劳等指眼睛变得呆滞，毫无表情 | |
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conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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ogling
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| v.（向…）抛媚眼，送秋波( ogle的现在分词 ) | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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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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peg
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| n.木栓，木钉；vt.用木钉钉，用短桩固定 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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veneer
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| n.(墙上的)饰面，虚饰 | |
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celebrity
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| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
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curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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64
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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indefatigable
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| adj.不知疲倦的，不屈不挠的 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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70
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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enraptured
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| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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75
tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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ravenous
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| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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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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justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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futility
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| n.无用 | |
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ripened
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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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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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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voluptuously
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| adv.风骚地，体态丰满地 | |
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