She was awakened1 suddenly by the car coming to an abrupt2 stop. Verygently Peters shook her by the arm.
“Wake up,” he said, “we seem to have arrived somewhere.”
Everyone got out of the station wagon3. They were all cramped4 andweary. It was still dark and they seemed to have drawn5 up outside a housesurrounded by palm trees. Some distance away they could see a few dimlights as though there were a village there. Guided by a lantern they wereushered into the house. It was a native house with a couple of gigglingBerber women who stared curiously7 at Hilary and Mrs. Calvin Baker8.
They took no interest in the nun9.
The three women were taken to a small upstairs room. There were threemattresses on the floor and some heaps of coverings, but no other fur-niture.
“I’ll say I’m stiff,” said Mrs. Baker. “Gets you kind of cramped, ridingalong the way we’ve been doing.”
“Discomfort10 does not matter,” said the nun.
She spoke11 with a harsh, guttural assurance. Her English, Hilary found,was good and fluent, though her accent was bad.
“You’re living up to your part, Miss Needheim,” said the American wo-man. “I can just see you in the convent, kneeling on the hard stones at fourin the morning.”
Miss Needheim smiled contemptuously.
“Christianity has made fools of women,” she said. “Such a worship ofweakness, such snivelling humiliation12! Pagan women had strength. Theyrejoiced and conquered! And in order to conquer, no discomfort is un-bearable. Nothing is too much to suffer.”
“Right now,” said Mrs. Baker, yawning, “I wish I was in my bed at thePalais Djamai at Fez. What about you, Mrs. Betterton? That shaking hasn’tdone your concussion13 any good, I’ll bet.”
“No, it hasn’t,” Hilary said.
“They’ll bring us something to eat presently, and then I’ll fix you up withsome aspirin14 and you’d better get to sleep as fast as you can.”
Steps were heard coming up the stairs outside and giggling6 femalevoices. Presently the two Berber women came into the room. They carrieda tray with a big dish of semolina and meat stew15. They put it down on thefloor, came back again with a metal basin with water in it and a towel.
One of them felt Hilary’s coat, passing the stuff between her fingers andspeaking to the other woman who nodded her head in rapid agreement,and did the same to Mrs. Baker. Neither of them paid any attention to thenun.
“Shoo,” said Mrs. Baker, waving them away. “Shoo, shoo.”
It was exactly like shooing chickens. The women retreated, still laugh-ing, and left the room.
“Silly creatures,” said Mrs. Baker, “it’s hard to have patience with them.
I suppose babies and clothes are their only interest in life.”
“It is all they are fit for,” said Fr?ulein Needheim. “They belong to aslave race. They are useful to serve their betters, but no more.”
“Aren’t you a little harsh?” said Hilary, irritated by the woman’s atti-tude.
“I have no patience with sentimentality. There are those that rule, thefew; and there are the many that serve.”
“But surely. .?.?.”
Mrs. Baker broke in in an authoritative16 manner.
“We’ve all got our own ideas on these subjects, I guess,” she said, “andvery interesting they are. But this is hardly the time for them. We’ll wantto get what rest we can.”
Mint tea arrived. Hilary swallowed some aspirin willingly enough, sinceher headache was quite a genuine one. Then the three women lay downon the couches and fell asleep.
They slept late into the following day. They were not to go on again untilthe evening, so Mrs. Baker informed them. From the room in which theyhad slept, there was an outside staircase leading on to a flat roof wherethey had a certain amount of view over the surrounding country. A littledistance away was a village, but here, where they were, the house wasisolated in a large palm garden. On awakening17, Mrs. Baker had indicatedthree heaps of clothing which had been brought and laid down just insidethe door.
“We’re going native for the next lap,” she explained, “we leave our otherclothes here.”
So the smart little American woman’s neat suiting and Hilary’s tweedcoat and skirt and the nun’s habit were all laid aside and three native Mo-roccan women sat on the roof of the house and chatted together. Thewhole thing had a curiously unreal feeling.
Hilary studied Miss Needheim more closely now that she had left the an-onymity of her nun’s habit. She was a younger woman than Hilary hadthought her, not more, perhaps, than thirty-three or thirty-four. There wasa neat spruceness in her appearance. The pale skin, the short stubby fin-gers, and the cold eyes in which burned from time to time the gleam of thefanatic, repelled19 rather than attracted. Her speech was brusque and un-compromising. Towards both Mrs. Baker and Hilary she displayed a cer-tain amount of contempt as towards people unworthy to associate withher. This arrogance20 Hilary found very irritating. Mrs. Baker, on the otherhand, seemed hardly to notice it. In a queer way Hilary felt far nearer andmore in sympathy with the two giggling Berber women who brought themfood, than with her two companions of the Western world. The young Ger-man woman was obviously indifferent to the impression she created.
There was a certain concealed21 impatience22 in her manner, and it was obvi-ous that she was longing23 to get on with her journey and that she had no in-terest in her two companions.
Appraising24 Mrs. Baker’s attitude Hilary found more difficult. At firstMrs. Baker seemed a natural and normal person after the inhumanity ofthe German woman specialist. But as the sun sank lower in the sky she feltalmost more intrigued25 and repelled by Mrs. Baker than by Helga Need-heim. Mrs. Baker’s social manner was almost robotlike in its perfection.
All her comments and remarks were natural, normal, everyday currency,but one had a suspicion that the whole thing was like an actor playing apart for perhaps the seven hundredth time. It was an automatic perform-ance, completely divorced from what Mrs. Baker might really have beenthinking or feeling. Who was Mrs. Calvin Baker, Hilary wondered? Whyhad she come to play her part with such machinelike perfection? Was she,too, a fanatic18? Had she dreams of a brave new world—was she in violentrevolt against the capitalist system? Had she given up all normal life be-cause of her political beliefs and aspirations26? Impossible to tell.
They resumed their journey that evening. It was no longer the stationwagon. This time it was an open touring car. Everyone was in nativedress, the men with white djellabas round them, the women with theirfaces hidden. Packed tightly in, they started off once more, driving allthrough the night.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Betterton?”
Hilary smiled up at Andy Peters. The sun had just risen and they hadstopped for breakfast. Native bread, eggs, and tea made over a Primus.
“I feel as though I were taking part in a dream,” said Hilary.
“Yes, it has rather that quality.”
“Where are we?”
He shrugged27 his shoulders.
“Who knows? Our Mrs. Calvin Baker, no doubt, but no other.”
“It’s a very lonely country.”
“Yes, practically desert. But then it would have to be, wouldn’t it?”
“You mean so as to leave no trace?”
“Yes. One realizes, doesn’t one, that the whole thing must be very care-fully thought out. Each stage of our journey is, as it were, quite independ-ent of the other. A plane goes up in flames. An old station wagon drivesthrough the night. If anyone notices it, it has on it a plate stating that it be-longs to a certain arch?ological expedition that is excavating28 in theseparts. The following day there is a touring car full of Berbers, one of thecommonest sights to be seen on the road. For the next stage”— heshrugged his shoulders—“who knows?”
“But where are we going?”
Andy Peters shook his head.
“No use to ask. We shall find out.”
The Frenchman, Dr. Barron, had joined them.
“Yes,” he said, “we shall find out. But how true it is that we cannot butask? That is our western blood. We can never say ‘sufficient for the day.’ Itis always tomorrow, tomorrow with us. To leave yesterday behind, to pro-ceed to tomorrow. That is what we demand.”
“You want to hurry the world on, Doctor, is that it?” asked Peters.
“There is so much to achieve,” said Dr. Barron, “life is too short. Onemust have more time. More time, more time.” He flung out his hands in apassionate gesture.
Peters turned to Hilary.
“What are the four freedoms you talk about in your country? Freedomfrom want, freedom from fear. .?.?.”
The Frenchman interrupted. “Freedom from fools,” he said bitterly.
“That is what I want! That is what my work needs. Freedom from incess-ant, pettifogging economics! Freedom from all the nagging30 restrictionsthat hamper31 one’s work!”
“You are a bacteriologist, are you not, Dr. Barron?”
“Yes, I am a bacteriologist. Ah, you have no idea, my friend, what a fas-cinating study that is! But it needs patience, infinite patience, repeated ex-periment—and money—much money! One must have equipment, assist-ants, raw materials! Given that you have all you ask for, what can one notachieve?”
“Happiness?” asked Hilary.
He flashed her a quick smile, suddenly human again.
“Ah, you are a woman, Madame. It is women who ask always for happi-ness.”
“And seldom get it?” asked Hilary.
He shrugged his shoulders.
“That may be.”
“Individual happiness does not matter,” said Peters seriously; “theremust be the happiness of all, the brotherhood32 of the spirit! The workers,free and united, owning the means of production, free of the warmongers,of the greedy, insatiable men who keep everything in their own hands.
Science is for all, and must not be held jealously by one power or theother.”
“So!” said Ericsson appreciatively, “you are right. The scientists must bemasters. They must control and rule. They and they alone are the Super-men. It is only the Supermen who matter. The slaves must be well treated,but they are slaves.”
Hilary walked a little way away from the group. After a minute or twoPeters followed her.
“You look just a little scared,” he said humorously.
“I think I am.” She gave a short, breathless laugh. “Of course what Dr.
Barron said was quite true. I’m only a woman. I’m not a scientist, I don’tdo research or surgery, or bacteriology. I haven’t, I suppose, much mentalability. I’m looking, as Dr. Barron said, for happiness—just like any otherfool of a woman.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” said Peters.
“Well, maybe I feel a little out of my depth in this company. You see, I’mjust a woman who’s going to join her husband.”
“Good enough,” said Peters. “You represent the fundamental.”
“It’s nice of you to put it that way.”
“Well, it’s true.” He added in a lower voice, “You care for your husbandvery much?”
“Would I be here if I didn’t?”
“I suppose not. You share his views? I take it that he’s a communist?”
Hilary avoided giving a direct answer.
“Talking of being a communist,” she said, “has something about ourlittle group struck you as curious?”
“What’s that?”
“Well, that although we’re all bound for the same destination, the viewsof our fellow travellers don’t seem really alike.”
Peters said thoughtfully:
“Why, no. You’ve got something there. I hadn’t thought of it quite thatway—but I believe you’re right.”
“I don’t think,” said Hilary, “that Dr. Barron is politically minded at all!
He wants money for his experiments. Helga Needheim talks like a fascist,not a communist. And Ericsson—”
“What about Ericsson?”
“I find him frightening—he’s got a dangerous kind of single-mindedness.
He’s like a mad scientist in a film!”
“And I believe in the Brotherhood of Men, and you’re a loving wife, andour Mrs. Calvin Baker—where would you place her?”
“I don’t know. I find her more hard to place than anyone.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’d say she was easy enough.”
“How do you mean?”
“I’d say it was money all the way with her. She’s just a well-paid cog inthe wheel.”
“She frightens me, too,” said Hilary.
“Why? Why on earth does she frighten you? No touch of the mad scient-ist about her.”
“She frightens me because she’s so ordinary. You know, just like any-body else. And yet she’s mixed up in all this.”
Peters said grimly:
“The Party is realistic, you know. It employs the best man or woman forthe job.”
“But is someone who only wants money the best person for the job?
Mightn’t they desert to the other side?”
“That would be a very big risk to take,” said Peters, quietly. “Mrs. CalvinBaker’s a shrewd woman. I don’t think she’d take that risk.”
Hilary shivered suddenly.
“Cold?”
“Yes. It’s a bit cold.”
“Let’s move around a little.”
They walked up and down. As they did so Peters stooped and picked upsomething.
“Here. You’re dropping things.”
Hilary took it from him.
“Oh, yes, it’s a pearl from my choker. I broke it the other day—no, yes-terday. What ages ago that seems already.”
“Not real pearls, I hope.”
Hilary smiled.
“No, of course not. Costume jewellery.”
Peters took a cigarette case from his pocket.
“Costume jewellery,” he said; “what a term!”
He offered her a cigarette.
“It does sound foolish—here.” She took a cigarette. “What an odd cigar-ette case. How heavy it is.”
“Made of lead, that’s why. It’s a war souvenir—made out of a bit of abomb that just failed to blow me up.”
“You were—in the war then?”
“I was one of the backroom boys who tickled33 things to see if they’d gobang. Don’t let’s talk about wars. Let’s concentrate on tomorrow.”
“Where are we going?” asked Hilary. “Nobody’s told me anything. Arewe—”
He stopped her.
“Speculations,” he said, “are not encouraged. You go where you’re toldand do what you’re told.”
With sudden passion Hilary said:
“Do you like being dragooned, being ordered about, having no say ofyour own?”
“I’m prepared to accept it if it’s necessary. And it is necessary. We’ve gotto have World Peace, World Discipline, World Order.”
“Is it possible? Can it be got?”
“Anything’s better than the muddle34 we live in. Don’t you agree to that?”
For a moment, carried away by fatigue35, by the loneliness of her sur-roundings and the strange beauty of the early morning light, Hilary nearlyburst out into a passionate29 denial.
She wanted to say:
“Why do you decry36 the world we live in? There are good people in it.
Isn’t muddle a better breeding ground for kindliness37 and individualitythan a world order that’s imposed, a world order that may be right todayand wrong tomorrow? I would rather have a world of kindly38, faulty, hu-man beings, than a world of superior robots who’ve said goodbye to pityand understanding and sympathy.”
But she restrained herself in time. She said instead, with a deliberatesubdued enthusiasm:
“How right you are. I was tired. We must obey and go forward.”
He grinned.
“That’s better.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
abrupt
|
|
| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
wagon
|
|
| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
cramped
|
|
| a.狭窄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
giggling
|
|
| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
baker
|
|
| n.面包师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
nun
|
|
| n.修女，尼姑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
discomfort
|
|
| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
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： |
|
|
|
|
12
humiliation
|
|
| n.羞辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
concussion
|
|
| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
aspirin
|
|
| n.阿司匹林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
stew
|
|
| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
authoritative
|
|
| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
awakening
|
|
| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
fanatic
|
|
| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
repelled
|
|
| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
arrogance
|
|
| n.傲慢，自大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
appraising
|
|
| v.估价( appraise的现在分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
intrigued
|
|
| adj.好奇的，被迷住了的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的过去式)；激起…的兴趣或好奇心；“intrigue”的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
aspirations
|
|
| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
shrugged
|
|
| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
excavating
|
|
| v.挖掘( excavate的现在分词 )；开凿；挖出；发掘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
nagging
|
|
| adj.唠叨的，挑剔的；使人不得安宁的v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的现在分词 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
hamper
|
|
| vt.妨碍，束缚，限制；n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
brotherhood
|
|
| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
tickled
|
|
| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
muddle
|
|
| n.困惑，混浊状态；vt.使混乱，使糊涂，使惊呆；vi.胡乱应付，混乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
fatigue
|
|
| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
decry
|
|
| v.危难，谴责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
kindliness
|
|
| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |