Frances Cary, carrying her overnight bag, walked down Mandeville Road, chattering1 with thefriend she had just met on the corner, towards the bulk of Borodene Mansions2.
“Really, Frances, it’s like living in a prison block, that building. Wormwood Scrubs orsomething.”
“Nonsense, Eileen. I tell you, they’re frightfully comfortable, these flats. I’m very lucky andClaudia is a splendid person to share with—never bothers you. And she’s got a wonderful daily.
The flat’s really very nicely run.”
“Are there just the two of you? I forget. I thought you had a third girl?”
“Oh, well, she seems to have walked out on us.”
“You mean she doesn’t pay her rent?”
“Oh, I think the rent’s all right. I think she’s probably having some affair with a boyfriend.”
Eileen lost interest. Boyfriends were too much a matter of course.
“Where are you coming back from now?”
“Manchester. Private view was on. Great success.”
“Are you really going to Vienna next month?”
“Yes, I think so. It’s pretty well fixed3 up by now. Rather fun.”
“Wouldn’t it be awful if some of the pictures got stolen?”
“Oh, they’re all insured,” said Frances. “All the really valuable ones, anyway.”
“How did your friend Peter’s show go?”
“Not terribly well, I’m afraid. But there was quite a good review by the critic of The Artist, andthat counts a lot.”
Frances turned into Borodene Mansions, and her friend went on her way to her own small mewshouse farther down the road. Frances said “Good evening” to the porter, and went up in the lift tothe sixth floor. She walked along the passage, humming a little tune4 to herself.
She inserted her key in the door of the flat. The light in the hall was not on yet. Claudia was notdue back from the office for another hour and a half. But in the sitting room, the door of whichwas ajar, the light was on.
Frances said aloud: “Light’s on. That’s funny.”
She slipped out of her coat, dropped her overnight bag, pushed the sitting room door fartheropen and went in….
Then she stopped dead. Her mouth opened and then shut. She stiffened5 all over—her eyesstaring at the prone6 figure on the floor; then they rose slowly to the mirror on the wall thatreflected back at her her own horror-stricken face….
Then she drew a deep breath. The momentary7 paralysis8 over, she flung back her head andscreamed. Stumbling over her bag on the hall floor and kicking it aside, she ran out of the flat andalong the passage and beat frenziedly at the door of the next flat.
An elderly woman opened it.
“What on earth—”
“There’s someone dead—someone dead. And I think it’s someone I know…David Baker9. He’slying there on the floor…I think he’s stabbed…he must have been stabbed. There’s blood—bloodeverywhere.”
She began to sob10 hysterically11. Miss Jacobs shoved a glass into her hand. “Stay there and drinkit.”
Frances sipped12 obediently. Miss Jacobs went rapidly out of the door along the passage andthrough the open door from which the light was pouring out. The living room door was wide openand Miss Jacobs went straight through it.
She was not the kind of woman who screams. She stood just within the doorway13, her lips pursedhard together.
What she was looking at had a nightmarish quality. On the floor lay a handsome young man, hisarms flung wide, his chestnut14 hair falling on his shoulders. He wore a crimson15 velvet16 coat, and hiswhite shirt was dappled with blood….
She was aware with a start that there was a second figure with her in the room. A girl wasstanding pressed back against the wall, the great Harlequin above seeming to be leaping across thepainted sky.
The girl had a white woollen shift dress on, and her pale brown hair hung limp on either side ofher face. In her hand she was holding a kitchen knife.
Miss Jacobs stared at her and she stared back at Miss Jacobs.
Then she said in a quiet reflective voice, as though she was answering what someone had said toher:
“Yes, I’ve killed him…The blood got on my hands from the knife…I went into the bathroom towash it off—but you can’t really wash things like that off, can you? And then I came back in hereto see if it was really true…But it is…Poor David…But I suppose I had to do it.”
Shock forced unlikely words from Miss Jacobs. As she said them, she thought how ridiculousthey sounded!
“Indeed? Why did you have to do anything of the kind?”
“I don’t know…At least—I suppose I do—really. He was in great trouble. He sent for me—andI came…But I wanted to be free of him. I wanted to get away from him. I didn’t really love him.”
She laid the knife carefully on the table and sat down on a chair.
“It isn’t safe, is it?” she said. “To hate anyone…It isn’t safe because you never know what youmight do…Like Louise….”
Then she said quietly, “Hadn’t you better ring up the police?”
Obediently, Miss Jacobs dialled 999.
点击收听单词发音
1 chattering | |
n. (机器振动发出的)咔嗒声,(鸟等)鸣,啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的,啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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2 mansions | |
n.宅第,公馆,大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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3 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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4 tune | |
n.调子;和谐,协调;v.调音,调节,调整 | |
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5 stiffened | |
加强的 | |
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6 prone | |
adj.(to)易于…的,很可能…的;俯卧的 | |
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7 momentary | |
adj.片刻的,瞬息的;短暂的 | |
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8 paralysis | |
n.麻痹(症);瘫痪(症) | |
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9 baker | |
n.面包师 | |
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10 sob | |
n.空间轨道的轰炸机;呜咽,哭泣 | |
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11 hysterically | |
ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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12 sipped | |
v.小口喝,呷,抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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14 chestnut | |
n.栗树,栗子 | |
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15 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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16 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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