A little private hotel over a well-known restaurant near the Gare St. Lazare was Jolyon’s haunt in Paris. He hated his fellow Forsytes abroad — vapid1 as fish out of water in their well-trodden runs, the Opera, Rue2 de Rivoli, and Moulin Rouge3. Their air of having come because they wanted to be somewhere else as soon as possible annoyed him. But no other Forsyte came near this haunt, where he had a wood fire in his bedroom and the coffee was excellent. Paris was always to him more attractive in winter. The acrid4 savour from woodsmoke and chestnut-roasting braziers, the sharpness of the wintry sunshine on bright rays, the open cafes defying keen-aired winter, the self-contained brisk boulevard crowds, all informed him that in winter Paris possessed5 a soul which, like a migrant bird, in high summer flew away.
He spoke6 French well, had some friends, knew little places where pleasant dishes could be met with, queer types observed. He felt philosophic7 in Paris, the edge of irony8 sharpened; life took on a subtle, purposeless meaning, became a bunch of flavours tasted, a darkness shot with shifting gleams of light.
When in the first week of December he decided9 to go to Paris, he was far from admitting that Irene’s presence was influencing him. He had not been there two days before he owned that the wish to see her had been more than half the reason. In England one did not admit what was natural. He had thought it might be well to speak to her about the letting of her flat and other matters, but in Paris he at once knew better. There was a glamour10 over the city. On the third day he wrote to her, and received an answer which procured11 him a pleasurable shiver of the nerves: “MY DEAR JOLYON,
“It will be a happiness for me to see you. “IRENE.”
He took his way to her hotel on a bright day with a feeling such as he had often had going to visit an adored picture. No woman, so far as he remembered, had ever inspired in him this special sensuous12 and yet impersonal13 sensation. He was going to sit and feast his eyes, and come away knowing her no better, but ready to go and feast his eyes again to-morrow. Such was his feeling, when in the tarnished14 and ornate little lounge of a quiet hotel near the river she came to him preceded by a small page-boy who uttered the word, “Madame,” and vanished. Her face, her smile, the poise15 of her figure, were just as he had pictured, and the expression of her face said plainly: ‘A friend!’
“Well,” he said, “what news, poor exile?”
“None.”
“Nothing from Soames?”
“Nothing.”
“I have let the flat for you, and like a good steward16 I bring you some money. How do you like Paris?”
While he put her through this catechism, it seemed to him that he had never seen lips so fine and sensitive, the lower lip curving just a little upwards17, the upper touched at one corner by the least conceivable dimple. It was like discovering a woman in what had hitherto been a sort of soft and breathed-on statue, almost impersonally18 admired. She owned that to be alone in Paris was a little difficult; and yet, Paris was so full of its own life that it was often, she confessed, as innocuous as a desert. Besides, the English were not liked just now!
“That will hardly be your case,” said Jolyon; “you should appeal to the French.”
“It has its disadvantages.”
Jolyon nodded.
“Well, you must let me take you about while I’m here. We’ll start to-morrow. Come and dine at my pet restaurant; and we’ll go to the Opera-Comique.”
It was the beginning of daily meetings.
Jolyon soon found that for those who desired a static condition of the affections, Paris was at once the first and last place in which to be friendly with a pretty woman. Revelation was alighting like a bird in his heart, singing: ‘Elle est ton reve! Elle est ton reve! Sometimes this seemed natural, sometimes ludicrous — a bad case of elderly rapture19. Having once been ostracised by Society, he had never since had any real regard for conventional morality; but the idea of a love which she could never return — and how could she at his age?— hardly mounted beyond his subconscious20 mind. He was full, too, of resentment21, at the waste and loneliness of her life. Aware of being some comfort to her, and of the pleasure she clearly took in their many little outings, he was amiably22 desirous of doing and saying nothing to destroy that pleasure. It was like watching a starved plant draw up water, to see her drink in his companionship. So far as they could tell, no one knew her address except himself; she was unknown in Paris, and he but little known, so that discretion23 seemed unnecessary in those walks, talks, visits to concerts, picture-galleries, theatres, little dinners, expeditions to Versailles, St. Cloud, even Fontainebleau. And time fled — one of those full months without past to it or future. What in his youth would certainly have been headlong passion, was now perhaps as deep a feeling, but far gentler, tempered to protective companionship by admiration24, hopelessness, and a sense of chivalry25 — arrested in his veins26 at least so long as she was there, smiling and happy in their friendship, and always to him more beautiful and spiritually responsive: for her philosophy of life seemed to march in admirable step with his own, conditioned by emotion more than by reason, ironically mistrustful, susceptible27 to beauty, almost passionately28 humane29 and tolerant, yet subject to instinctive30 rigidities of which as a mere31 man he was less capable. And during all this companionable month he never quite lost that feeling with which he had set out on the first day as if to visit an adored work of art, a well-nigh impersonal desire. The future — inexorable pendant to the present he took care not to face, for fear of breaking up his untroubled manner; but he made plans to renew this time in places still more delightful32, where the sun was hot and there were strange things to see and paint. The end came swiftly on the 20th of January with a telegram:
“Have enlisted33 in Imperial Yeomanry. JOLLY.”
Jolyon received it just as he was setting out to meet her at the Louvre. It brought him up with a round turn. While he was lotus-eating here, his boy, whose philosopher and guide he ought to be, had taken this great step towards danger, hardship, perhaps even death. He felt disturbed to the soul, realising suddenly how Irene had twined herself round the roots of his being. Thus threatened with severance34, the tie between them — for it had become a kind of tie — no longer had impersonal quality. The tranquil35 enjoyment36 of things in common, Jolyon perceived, was gone for ever. He saw his feeling as it was, in the nature of an infatuation. Ridiculous, perhaps, but so real that sooner or later it must disclose itself. And now, as it seemed to him, he could not, must not, make any such disclosure. The news of Jolly stood inexorably in the way. He was proud of this enlistment37; proud of his boy for going off to fight for the country; for on Jolyon’s pro-Boerism, too, Black Week had left its mark. And so the end was reached before the beginning! Well, luckily he had never made a sign!
When he came into the Gallery she was standing38 before the ‘Virgin of the Rocks,’ graceful39, absorbed, smiling and unconscious. ‘Have I to give up seeing that?’ he thought. ‘It’s unnatural40, so long as she’s willing that I should see her.’ He stood, unnoticed, watching her, storing up the image of her figure, envying the picture on which she was bending that long scrutiny41. Twice she turned her head towards the entrance, and he thought: ‘That’s for me!’ At last he went forward.
“Look!” he said.
She read the telegram, and he heard her sigh.
That sigh, too, was for him! His position was really cruel! To be loyal to his son he must just shake her hand and go. To be loyal to the feeling in his heart he must at least tell her what that feeling was. Could she, would she understand the silence in which he was gazing at that picture?
“I’m afraid I must go home at once,” he said at last. “I shall miss all this awfully42.”
“So shall I; but, of course, you must go.”
“Well!” said Jolyon holding out his hand.
Meeting her eyes, a flood of feeling nearly mastered him.
“Such is life!” he said. “Take care of yourself, my dear!”
He had a stumbling sensation in his legs and feet, as if his brain refused to steer43 him away from her. From the doorway44, he saw her lift her hand and touch its fingers with her lips. He raised his hat solemnly, and did not look back again.
收听单词发音 |
1
vapid
|
|
| adj.无味的；无生气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
rue
|
|
| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
rouge
|
|
| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
acrid
|
|
| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
philosophic
|
|
| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
irony
|
|
| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
glamour
|
|
| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
procured
|
|
| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
sensuous
|
|
| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
impersonal
|
|
| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
tarnished
|
|
| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
poise
|
|
| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
steward
|
|
| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
upwards
|
|
| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
impersonally
|
|
| ad.非人称地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
rapture
|
|
| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
subconscious
|
|
| n./adj.潜意识(的)，下意识(的) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
amiably
|
|
| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
discretion
|
|
| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
chivalry
|
|
| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
susceptible
|
|
| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
passionately
|
|
| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
humane
|
|
| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
instinctive
|
|
| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
enlisted
|
|
| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
severance
|
|
| n.离职金；切断 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
tranquil
|
|
| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
enlistment
|
|
| n.应征入伍，获得，取得 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
scrutiny
|
|
| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
awfully
|
|
| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
steer
|
|
| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |