Gerald Scales walked about the Strand1, staring up at its high narrow houses, crushed one against another as though they had been packed, unsorted, by a packer who thought of nothing but economy of space. Except by Somerset House, King's College, and one or two theatres and banks, the monotony of mean shops, with several storeys unevenly2 perched over them, was unbroken, Then Gerald encountered Exeter Hall, and examined its prominent facade3 with a provincial's eye; for despite his travels he was not very familiar with London. Exeter Hall naturally took his mind back to his Uncle Boldero, that great and ardent4 Nonconformist, and his own godly youth. It was laughable to muse5 upon what his uncle would say and think, did the old man know that his nephew had run away with a girl, meaning to seduce6 her in Paris. It was enormously funny!
However, he had done with all that. He was well out of it. She had told him to go, and he had gone. She had money to get home; she had nothing to do but use the tongue in her head. The rest was her affair. He would go to Paris alone, and find another amusement. It was absurd to have supposed that Sophia would ever have suited him. Not in such a family as the Baineses could one reasonably expect to discover an ideal mistress. No! there had been a mistake. The whole business was wrong. She had nearly made a fool of him. But he was not the man to be made a fool of. He had kept his dignity intact.
So he said to himself. Yet all the time his dignity, and his pride also, were bleeding, dropping invisible blood along the length of the Strand pavements.
He was at Salisbury Street again. He pictured her in the bedroom. Damn her! He wanted her. He wanted her with an excessive desire. He hated to think that he had been baulked. He hated to think that she would remain immaculate. And he continued to picture her in the exciting privacy of that cursed bedroom.
Now he was walking down Salisbury Street. He did not wish to be walking down Salisbury Street; but there he was!
"Oh, hell!" he murmured. "I suppose I must go through with it."
He felt desperate. He was ready to pay any price in order to be able to say to himself that he had accomplished7 what he had set his heart on.
"My wife hasn't gone out, has she?" he asked of the hall-porter.
"I'm not sure, sir; I think not," said the hall-porter.
The fear that Sophia had already departed made him sick. When he noticed her trunk still there, he took hope and ran upstairs.
He saw her, a dark crumpled8, sinuous9 piece of humanity, half on and half off the bed, silhouetted10 against the bluish-white counterpane; her hat was on the floor, with the spotted11 veil trailing away from it. This sight seemed to him to be the most touching12 that he had ever seen, though her face was hidden. He forgot everything except the deep and strange emotion which affected13 him. He approached the bed. She did not stir.
Having heard the entry and knowing that it must be Gerald who had entered, Sophia forced herself to remain still. A wild, splendid hope shot up in her. Constrained14 by all the power of her will not to move, she could not stifle15 a sob16 that had lain in ambush17 in her throat.
The sound of the sob fetched tears to the eyes of Gerald.
"Sophia!" he appealed to her.
But she did not stir. Another sob shook her.
"Very well, then," said Gerald. "We'll stay in London till we can be married. I'll arrange it. I'll find a nice boarding-house for you, and I'll tell the people you're my cousin. I shall stay on at this hotel, and I'll come and see you every day."
A silence.
"Thank you!" she blubbered. "Thank you!"
He saw that her little gloved hand was stretching out towards him, like a feeler; and he seized it, and knelt down and took her clumsily by the waist. Somehow he dared not kiss her yet.
An immense relief surged very slowly through them both.
"I--I--really--" She began to say something, but the articulation18 was lost in her sobs19.
"What? What do you say, dearest?" he questioned eagerly.
And she made another effort. "I really couldn't have gone to Paris with you without being married," she succeeded at last. "I really couldn't."
"No, no!" he soothed20 her. "Of course you couldn't. It was I who was wrong. But you didn't know how I felt. ... Sophia, it's all right now, isn't it?"
She sat up and kissed him fairly.
It was so wonderful and startling that he burst openly into tears. She saw in the facile intensity21 of his emotion a guarantee of their future happiness. And as he had soothed her, so now she soothed him. They clung together, equally surprised at the sweet, exquisite22, blissful melancholy24 which drenched25 them through and through. It was remorse26 for having quarrelled, for having lacked faith in the supreme27 rightness of the high adventure. Everything was right, and would be right; and they had been criminally absurd. It was remorse; but it was pure bliss23, and worth the quarrel! Gerald resumed his perfection again in her eyes! He was the soul of goodness and honour! And for him she was again the ideal mistress, who would, however, be also a wife. As in his mind he rapidly ran over the steps necessary to their marriage, he kept saying to himself, far off in some remote cavern28 of the brain: "I shall have her! I shall have her!" He did not reflect that this fragile slip of the Baines stock, unconsciously drawing upon the accumulated strength of generations of honest living, had put a defeat upon him.
After tea, Gerald, utterly29 content with the universe, redeemed30 his word and found an irreproachable31 boarding-house for Sophia in Westminster, near the Abbey. She was astonished at the glibness32 of his lies to the landlady33 about her, and about their circumstances generally. He also found a church and a parson, close by, and in half an hour the formalities preliminary to a marriage were begun. He explained to her that as she was now resident in London, it would be simpler to recommence the business entirely34. She sagaciously agreed. As she by no means wished to wound him again, she made no inquiry35 about those other formalities which, owing to red-tape, had so unexpectedly proved abortive36! She knew she was going to be married, and that sufficed. The next day she carried out her filial idea of telegraphing to her mother.
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strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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unevenly
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| adv.不均匀的 | |
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facade
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| n.(建筑物的)正面，临街正面；外表 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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muse
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| n.缪斯（希腊神话中的女神），创作灵感 | |
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seduce
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| vt.勾引，诱奸，诱惑，引诱 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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sinuous
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| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
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silhouetted
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| 显出轮廓的，显示影像的 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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articulation
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| n.（清楚的）发音；清晰度，咬合 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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cavern
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| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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redeemed
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| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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irreproachable
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| adj.不可指责的，无过失的 | |
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32
glibness
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| n.花言巧语；口若悬河 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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abortive
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| adj.不成功的，发育不全的 | |
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