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I thought you were in for a breakdown. Giles, bear me out. Didn't Maxim look perfectly ghastly last time we came over, and didn't I say he was heading for a breakdown?' 'Well, I must say, old chap, you're looking a different person, ' said Giles. 'Very good thing you went away. Doesn't he look well, Crawley?' I could tell by the tightening of Maxim's muscles under my arm that he was trying to keep his temper. For some reason this talk about his health was not welcome to him, angered him even, and I thought it tactless of Beatrice to harp upon it in this way, making so big a point of it. 'Maxim's very sunburnt, ' I said shyly; 'it hides a multitude of sins. You should have seen him in Venice having breakfast on the balcony, trying to get brown on purpose. He thinks it makes him better-looking. ' Everyone laughed, and Mr Crawley said, 'It must have been wonderful in Venice, Mrs de Winter, this time of year, ' and 'Yes, ' I said, 'we had really wonderful weather. Only one bad day, wasn't it, Maxim?' the conversation drawing away happily from his health, and so to Italy, safest of subjects, and the blessed topic of fine weather. Conversation was easy now, no longer an effort. Maxim and Giles and Beatrice were discussing the running of Maxim's car, and Mr Crawley was asking if it were true that there were no more gondolas in the canals now, only motor-boats. I don't think he would have cared at all had there been steamers at anchor in the Grand Canal, he was saying this to help me, it was his contribution to the little effort of steering the talk away from Maxim's health, and I was grateful to him, feeling him an ally, for all his dull appearance. 'Jasper wants exercise, ' said Beatrice, stirring the dog with her foot; 'he's getting much too fat, and he's barely two years old. What do you feed him on, Maxim?' 'My dear Beatrice, he has exactly the same routine as your dogs, ' said Maxim. 'Don't show off and make out you know more about animals than I do. ' 'Dear old boy, how can you pretend to know what Jasper has been fed on when you've been away for a couple of months? Don't tell me Frith walks to the lodge gates with him twice a day. This dog hasn't had a run for weeks. I can tell by the condition of his coat. ' 'I'd rather he looked colossal than half-starved like that halfwit dog of yours, ' said Maxim. 'Not a very intelligent remark when Lion won two firsts at Cruft's last February, ' said Beatrice.

The atmosphere was becoming rather strained again, I could tell by the narrow lines of Maxim's mouth, and I wondered if brothers and sisters always sparred like this, making it uncomfortable for those who listened. I wished that Frith would come in and announce lunch. Or would we be summoned by a booming gong? I did not know what happened at Manderley. 'How far away from us are you?' I asked, sitting down by Beatrice; 'did you have to make a very early start?' 'We're fifty miles away, my dear, in the next county, the other side of Trowchester. The hunting is so much better with us. You must come over and stay, when Maxim can spare you. Giles will mount you. ' 'I'm afraid I don't hunt, ' I confessed. 'I learnt to ride, as a child, but very feebly; I don't remember much about it. ' 'You must take it up again, ' she said. 'You can't possibly live in the country and not ride: you wouldn't know what to do with yourself. Maxim says you paint. That's very nice, of course, but there's no exercise in it, is there? All very well on a wet day when there's nothing better to do. ' 'My dear Beatrice, we are not all such fresh-air fiends as you, ' said Maxim. 'I wasn't talking to you, old boy. We all know you are perfectly happy slopping about the Manderley gardens and never breaking out of a slow walk. ' 'I'm very fond of walking too, ' I said swiftly. 'I'm sure I shall never get tired of rambling about Manderley. And I can bathe too, when it's warmer. ' 'My dear, you are an optimist, ' said Beatrice. 'I can hardly ever remember bathing here. The water is far too cold, and the beach is shingle. ' 'I don't mind that, ' I said. 'I love bathing. As long as the currents are not too strong. Is the bathing safe in the bay?' Nobody answered, and I realized suddenly what I had said. My heart thumped, and I felt my cheeks go flaming red. I bent down to stroke Jasper's ear, in an agony of confusion. 'Jasper could do with a swim, and get some of that fat off, ' said Beatrice, breaking the pause, 'but he'd find it a bit too much for him in the bay, wouldn't you, Jasper? Good old Jasper. Nice old man. ' We patted the dog together, not looking at one another. 'I say, I'm getting infernally hungry.

What on earth is happening to lunch?' said Maxim. 'It's only just on one now, ' said Mr Crawley, 'according to the clock on the mantelpiece. ' "That clock was always fast, ' said Beatrice. 'It's kept perfect time now for months, ' said Maxim. At that moment the door opened and Frith announced that luncheon was served. 'I say, I must have a wash, ' said Giles, looking at his hands. We all got up and wandered through the drawing-room to the hall in great relief, Beatrice and I a little ahead of the men, she taking my arm. 'Dear old Frith, ' she said, 'he always looks exactly the same, and makes me feel like a girl again. You know, don't mind me saying so, but you are even younger than I expected. Maxim told me your age, but you're an absolute child. Tell me, are you very much in love with him?' I was not prepared for this question, and she must have seen the surprise in my face, for she laughed lightly, and squeezed my arm. 'Don't answer, ' she said. 'I can see what you feel. I'm an interfering bore, aren't I? You mustn't mind me. I'm devoted to Maxim, you know, though we always bicker like cat and dog when we meet. I congratulate you again on his looks. We were all very worried about him this time last year, but of course you know the whole story. ' We had come to the dining-room by now, and she said no more, for the servants were there and the others had joined us, but as I sat down, and unfolded my napkin, I wondered what Beatrice would say did she realize that I knew nothing of that preceding year, no details of the tragedy that had happened down there, in the bay, that Maxim kept these things to himself, that I questioned him never. Lunch passed off better than I had dared to hope. There were few arguments, or perhaps Beatrice was exercising tact at last; at any rate she and Maxim chatted about matters concerning Manderley, her horses, the garden, mutual friends, and Frank Crawley, on my left, kept up an easy patter with me for which I was grateful, as it required no effort. Giles was more concerned with food than with the conversation, though now and again he remembered my existence and flung me a remark at hazard. 'Same cook I suppose, Maxim?' he said, when Robert had offered him the cold souffl for the second time. 'I always tell Bee, Manderley's the only place left in England where one can get decent cooking. I remember this souffl of old. ' 'I think we change cooks periodically, ' said Maxim, 'but the standard of cooking remains the same.
 
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Mrs Danvers has all the recipes, she tells them what to do. ' 'Amazing woman, that Mrs Danvers, ' said Giles, turning to me; 'don't you think so?' 'She's no oil painting though, is she?' said Giles, and he roared with laughter. Frank Crawley said nothing, and looking up I saw Beatrice was watching me. She turned away then, and began talking to Maxim. 'Do you play golf at all, Mrs de Winter?' said Mr Crawley. 'No, I'm afraid I don't, ' I answered, glad that the subject had been changed again, that Mrs Danvers was forgotten, and even though I was no player, knew nothing of the game, I was prepared to listen to him as long as he pleased; there was something solid and safe and dull about golf, it could not bring us into any difficulties. We had cheese, and coffee, and I wondered whether I was supposed to make a move. I kept looking at Maxim, but he gave no sign, and then Giles embarked upon a story, rather difficult to follow, about digging a car out of a snow-drift - what had started the train of thought I could not tell - and I listened to him politely, nodding my head now and again and smiling, aware of Maxim becoming restive at his end of the table. At last he paused, and I caught Maxim's eye. He frowned very slightly and jerked his head towards the door. I got up at once, shaking the table clumsily as I moved my chair, and upsetting Giles's glass of port. 'Oh, dear, ' I said, hovering, wondering what to do, reaching ineffectively for my napkin, but 'All right, Frith will deal with it, ' said Maxim, 'don't add to the confusion. Beatrice, take her out in the garden; she's scarcely seen the place yet. ' He looked tired, rather jaded. I began to wish none of them had come. They had spoilt our day anyway. It was too much of an effort, just as we returned. I felt tired too, tired and depressed. Maxim had seemed almost irritable when he suggested we should go into the garden. What a fool I had been, upsetting that glass of port. We went out on to the terrace and walked down on to the smooth green lawns. 'I think it's a pity you came back to Manderley so soon, ' said Beatrice, 'it would have been far better to potter about in Italy for three or four months, and then come back in the middle of the summer. Done Maxim a power of good too, besides being easier from your point of view. I can't help feeling it's going to be rather a strain here for you at first. ' 'Oh, I don't think so, ' I said. 'I know I shall come to love Manderley. '

She did not answer, and we strolled backwards and forwards on the lawns. 'Tell me a bit about yourself, ' she said at last; 'what was it you were doing in the south of France? Living with some appalling American woman, Maxim said. ' I explained about Mrs Van Hopper, and what had led to it, and she seemed sympathetic but a little vague, as though she was thinking of something else. 'Yes, ' she said, when I paused, 'it all happened very suddenly, as you say. But of course we were all delighted, my dear, and I do hope you will be happy. ' "Thank you, Beatrice, ' I said, 'thank you very much. ' I wondered why she said she hoped we would be happy, instead of saying she knew we would be so. She was kind, she was sincere, I liked her very much, but there was a tiny doubt in her voice that made me afraid. 'When Maxim wrote and told me, ' she went on, taking my arm, 'and said he had discovered you in the south of France, and you were very young, very pretty, I must admit it gave me a bit of a shock. Of course we all expected a social butterfly, very modern and plastered with paint, the sort of girl you expected to meet in those sort of places. When you came into the morning-room before lunch you could have knocked me down with a feather. ' She laughed, and I laughed with her. But she did not say whether or not she was disappointed in my appearance or relieved. 'Poor Maxim, ' she said: 'he went through a ghastly time, and let's hope you have made him forget about it. Of course he adores Manderley. ' Part of me wanted her to continue her train of thought, to tell me more of the past, naturally and easily like this, and something else, way back in my mind, did not want to know, did not want to hear. 'We are not a bit alike, you know, ' she said, 'our characters are poles apart. I show everything on my face: whether I like people or not, whether I am angry or pleased. There's no reserve about me. Maxim is entirely different. Very quiet, very reserved. You never know what's going on in that funny mind of his. I lose my temper on the slightest provocation, flare up, and then it's all over. Maxim loses his temper once or twice in a year, and when he does - my God - he does lose it. I don't suppose he ever will with you, I should think you are a placid little thing. ' She smiled, and pinched my arm, and I thought about being placid, how quiet and comfortable it sounded, someone with knitting on her lap, with calm unruffled brow.

Someone who was never anxious, never tortured by doubt and indecision, someone who never stood as I did, hopeful, eager, frightened, tearing at bitten nails, uncertain which way to go, what star to follow. 'You won't mind me saying so, will you?' she went on, 'but I think you ought to do something to your hair. Why don't you have it waved? It's so very lanky, isn't it, like that? Must look awful under a hat. Why don't you sweep it back behind your ears?' I did so obediently, and waited for her approval. She looked at me critically, her head on one side. 'No, ' she said. 'No, I think that's worse. It's too severe, and doesn't suit you. No, all you need is a wave, just to pinch it up. I never have cared for that Joan of Arc business or whatever they call it. What does Maxim say? Does he think it suits you?' 'I don't know, ' I said, 'he's never mentioned it. ' 'Oh well, ' she said, 'perhaps he likes it. Don't go by me. Tell me, did you get any clothes in London or Paris?' 'No, ' I said, 'we had no time. Maxim was anxious to get home. And I can always send for catalogues. ' 'I can tell by the way you dress that you don't care a hoot what you wear, ' she said. I glanced at my flannel skirt apologetically. 'I do, ' I said. 'I'm very fond of nice things. I've never had much money to spend on clothes up to now. ' 'I wonder Maxim did not stay a week or so in London and get you something decent to wear, ' she said. 'I must say, I think it's rather selfish of him. So unlike him too. He's generally so particular. ' 'Is he?' I said; 'he's never seemed particular to me. I don't think he notices what I wear at all. I don't think he minds. ' 'Oh, ' she said. 'Oh, well, he must have changed then. ' She looked away from me, and whistled to Jasper, her hands in her pockets, and then stared up at the house above us. 'You're not using the west wing then, ' she said. 'No, ' I said. 'No, we have the suite in the east wing. It's all been done up. ' 'Has it?' she said. 'I didn't know that. I wonder why. ' 'It was Maxim's idea, ' I said, 'he seems to prefer it. I She said nothing, she went on looking at the windows, and whistling. 'How do you get on with Mrs Danvers?' she said suddenly. I bent down, and began patting Jasper's head, and stroking his ears. 'I have not seen very much of her, ' I said; 'she scares me a little.
 
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I've never seen anyone quite like her before. ' 'I don't suppose you have, ' said Beatrice. Jasper looked up at me with great eyes, humble, rather self-conscious. I kissed the top of his silken head, and put my hand over his black nose. 'There's no need to be frightened of her, ' said Beatrice; 'and don't let her see it, whatever you do. Of course I've never had anything to do with her, and I don't think I ever want to either. However, she's always been very civil to me. ' I went on patting Jasper's head. 'Did she seem friendly?' said Beatrice. 'No, ' I said. 'No, not very. ' Beatrice began whistling again, and she rubbed Jasper's head with her foot. 'I shouldn't have more to do with her than you can help, ' she said. 'No, ' I said. 'She runs the house very efficiently, there's no need for me to interfere. ', 'Oh, I don't suppose she'd mind that, ' said Beatrice. That was what Maxim had said, the evening before, and I thought it odd that they should both have the same opinion. I should have imagined that interference was the one thing Mrs Danvers did not want. 'I dare say she will get over it in time, ' said Beatrice, 'but it may make things rather unpleasant for you at first. Of course she's insanely jealous. I was afraid she would be. ' 'Why?' I asked, looking up at her, 'why should she be jealous? Maxim does not seem to be particularly fond of her. ' 'My dear child, it's not Maxim she's thinking of, ' said Beatrice; 'I think she respects him and all that, but nothing more very much. 'No, you see, ' - she paused, frowning a little, looking at me uncertainly - 'she resents your being here at all, that's the trouble. ' 'Why?' I said, 'why should she resent me?' 'I thought you knew, ' said Beatrice; 'I thought Maxim would have told you. She simply adored Rebecca. ' 'Oh, ' I said. 'Oh, I see. ' We both went on patting and stroking Jasper, who, unaccustomed to such attention, rolled over on his back in ecstasy. 'Here are the men, ' said Beatrice, 'let's have some chairs out and sit under the chestnut. How fat Giles is getting, he looks quite repulsive beside Maxim. I suppose Frank will go back to the office. What a dull creature he is, never has anything interesting to say. Well, all of you. What have you been discussing? Pulling the world to bits, I suppose. ' She laughed, and the others strolled towards us, and we stood about. Giles threw a twig for Jasper to retrieve. We all looked at Jasper. Mr Crawley looked at his watch. 'I must be off, ' he said; 'thank you very much for lunch, Mrs de Winter, ' 'You must come often, ' I said, shaking hands.

I wondered if the others would go too. I was not sure whether they had just come over for lunch or to spend the day. I hoped they would go. I wanted to be alone with Maxim again, and that it would be like we were in Italy. We all went and sat down under the chestnut tree. Robert brought out chairs and rugs. Giles lay down on his back and tipped his hat over his eyes. After a while he began to snore, his mouth open. 'Shut up, Giles, ' said Beatrice. 'I'm not asleep, ' he muttered, opening his eyes, and shutting them again. I thought him unattractive. I wondered why Beatrice had married him. She could never have been in love with him. Perhaps that was what she was thinking about me. I caught her eye upon me now and again, puzzled, reflective, as though she was saying to herself 'What on earth does Maxim see in her?' but kind at the same time, not unfriendly. They were talking about their grandmother. 'We must go over and see the old lady, ' Maxim was saying, and 'She's getting gaga, ' said Beatrice, 'drops food all down her chin, poor darling. ' I listened to them both, leaning against Maxim's arm, rubbing my chin on his sleeve. He stroked my hand absently, not thinking, talking to Beatrice. 'That's what I do to Jasper, ' I thought. 'I'm being like Jasper now, leaning against him. He pats me now and again, when he remembers, and I'm pleased, I get closer to him for a moment. He likes me in the way I like Jasper. ' The wind had dropped. The afternoon was drowsy, peaceful. The grass had been new-mown; it smelt sweet and rich, like summer. A bee droned above Giles's head, and he flicked at it with his hat. Jasper sloped in to join us, too warm in the sun, his tongue lolling from his mouth. He flopped beside me, and began licking his side, his large eyes apologetic. The sun shone on the mullioned windows of the house, and I could see the green lawns and the terrace reflected in them. Smoke curled thinly from one of the near chimneys, and I wondered if the library fire had been lit, according to routine. A thrush flew across the lawn to the magnolia tree outside the dining-room window. I could smell the faint, soft magnolia scent as I sat here, on the lawn. Everything was quiet and still. Very distant now came the washing of the sea in the bay below. The tide must have gone out.

The bee droned over us again, pausing to taste the chestnut blossom above our heads. "This is what I always imagined, ' I thought, 'this is how I hoped it would be, living at Manderley. ' I wanted to go on sitting there, not talking, not listening to the others, keeping the moment precious for all time, because we were peaceful, all of us, we were content and drowsy even as the bee who droned above our heads. In a little while it would be different, there would come tomorrow, and the next day, and another year. And we would be changed perhaps, never sitting quite like this again. Some of us would go away, or suffer, or die; the future stretched away in front of us, unknown, unseen, not perhaps what we wanted, not what we planned. This moment was safe though, this could not be touched. Here we sat together, Maxim and I, hand-in-hand, and the past and the future mattered not at all. This was secure, this funny fragment of time he would never remember, never think about again. He would not hold it sacred; he was talking about cutting away some of the undergrowth in the drive, and Beatrice agreed, interrupting with some suggestion of her own, and throwing a piece of grass at Giles at the same time. For them it was just after lunch, quarter past three on a haphazard afternoon, like any hour, like any day. They did not want to hold it close, imprisoned and secure, as I did. They were not afraid. 'Well, I suppose we ought to be off, ' said Beatrice, brushing the grass from her skirt; 'I don't want to be late, we've got the Cartrights dining. ' 'How is old Vera?' asked Maxim. 'Oh, same as ever, always talking about her health. He's getting very old. They're sure to ask all about you both. ' 'Give them my love, ' said Maxim. We got up. Giles shook the dust off his hat. Maxim yawned and stretched. The sun went in. I looked up at the sky. It had changed already, a mackerel sky. Little clouds scurrying in formation, line upon line. 'Wind's backing, ' said Maxim. 'I hope we don't run into rain, ' said Giles. 'I'm afraid we've had the best of the day, ' said Beatrice. We wandered slowly towards the drive and the waiting car. 'You haven't seen what's been done to the east wing, ' said Maxim. 'Come upstairs, ' I suggested; 'it won't take a minute. ' We went into the hall, and up the big staircase, the men following behind. It seemed strange that Beatrice had lived here for so many years.
 
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She had run down these same stairs as a little girl, with her nurse. She had been born here, bred here; she knew it all, she belonged here more than I should ever do. She must have many memories locked inside her heart. I wondered if she ever thought about the days that were gone, ever remembered the lanky pig-tailed child that she had been once, so different from the woman she had become, forty-five now, vigorous and settled in her ways, another person ... We came to the rooms, and Giles, stooping under the low doorway, said, 'How very jolly; this is a great improvement, isn't it, Bee?' and 'I say, old boy, you have spread yourself, ' said Beatrice: 'new curtains, new beds, new everything. You remember, Giles, we had this room that time you were laid up with your leg? It was very dingy then. Of course Mother never had much idea of comfort. And then, you never put people here, did you, Maxim? Except when there was an overflow. The bachelors were always dumped here. Well, it's charming, I must say. Looks over the rose-garden too, which was always an advantage. May I powder my nose?' The men went downstairs, and Beatrice peered in the mirror. 'Did old Danvers do all this for you?' she said. 'Yes, ' I said. 'I think she's done it very well. ' 'So she should, with her training, ' said Beatrice. 'I wonder what on earth it cost. A pretty packet, I bet. Did you ask?' 'No, I'm afraid I did not, ' I said. 'I don't suppose it worried Mrs Danvers, ' said Beatrice. 'Do you mind if I use your comb? These are nice brushes. Wedding present?' 'Maxim gave them to me. ' 'H'm. I like them. We must give you something of course. What do you want?' 'Oh, I don't really know. You mustn't bother, ' I said. 'My dear, don't be absurd. I'm not one to grudge you a present, even though we weren't asked to your wedding!' 'I hope you did not mind about that. Maxim wanted it to be abroad. ' 'Of course not. Very sensible of you both. After all, it wasn't as though ... " she stopped in the middle of her sentence, and dropped her bag. 'Damn, have I broken the catch? No, all is well.

What was I saying? I can't remember. Oh, yes, wedding presents. We must think of something. You probably don't care for jewellery. ' I did not answer. 'It's so different from the ordinary young couple, ' she said. 'The daughter of a friend of mine got married the other day, and of course they were started off in the usual way, with linen, and coffee sets, and dining-room chairs, and all that. I gave rather a nice standard lamp. Cost me a fiver at Harrods. If you do go up to London to buy clothes mind you go to my woman, Madame Carroux. She has damn good taste, and she doesn't rook you. ' She got up from the dressing-table, and pulled at her skirt. 'Do you suppose you will have a lot of people down?' she said. 'I don't know. Maxim hasn't said. ' 'Funny old boy, one never quite knows with him. At one time one could not get a bed in the house, the place would be chock-a-block. I can't somehow see you ... ' she stopped abruptly, and patted my arm. 'Oh, well, ' she said, 'we'll see. It's a pity you don't ride or shoot, you miss such a lot. You don't sail by any chance, do you?' 'No, ' I said. 'Thank God for that, ' she said. She went to the door, and I followed her down the corridor. 'Come and see us if you feel like it, ' she said. 'I always expect people to ask themselves. Life is too short to send out invitations. ' 'Thank you very much, ' I said. We came to the head of the stairs looking down upon the hall. The men were standing on the steps outside. 'Come on, Bee, ' shouted Giles. 'I felt a spot of rain, so we've put on the cover. Maxim says the glass is falling. ' Beatrice took my hand, and bending down gave me a swift peck on my cheek. 'Goodbye, ' she said; 'forgive me if I've asked you a lot of rude questions, my dear, and said all sorts of things I shouldn't. Tact never was my strong point, as Maxim will tell you. And, as I told you before, you're not a bit what I expected. ' She looked at me direct, her lips pursed in a whistle, and then took a cigarette from her bag, and flashed her lighter. 'You see, ' she said, snapping the top, and walking down the stairs, 'you are so very different from Rebecca. ' And we came out on to the steps and found the sun had gone behind a bank of cloud, a little thin rain was falling, and Robert was hurrying across the lawn to bring in the chairs.

第10章
 
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[FONT=宋体]第10章

我们目送着比阿特丽斯他们的汽车驶去,直到它在车道弯角处消失。迈克西姆抓起我的手臂说;“感谢上帝,总算结束了。快去穿件衣服,再出来,这场该死的雨,我倒正想散步呢!老半天这么坐着实在受不了。”他脸色苍白,显得十分疲乏。我真不明白,接待自己的姐姐和姐夫竟要他花费这么许多气力。

“你等着,我上楼去穿件衣眼,”我回答道。

他不耐烦地说:“花房里有一大堆胶布雨衣,随便穿上一件得了。女人一进卧室,不拖上半个钟头就不肯出来。罗伯特,到花房去给德温特夫人拿件雨衣来。好吗?人们前前后后丢在那里的雨衣起码总有六七件。”说着,他已站在车道上,一边招呼杰斯珀:“过来,你这小懒鬼,走,去遛遛腿,跑掉点脂肪。”杰斯珀绕着他的脚跟打转,因为就要出发去溜达而激动得汪汪直叫。迈克西姆说:“住嘴,傻瓜!这个罗伯特,怎么磨蹭个没完?”

罗伯特抱着一件雨衣从屋子里奔出来。我匆匆把它套上,胡乱拉了拉领子。雨衣显然太大又太长,可是没时间再去换一件了。就这样,我们穿过草坪向林子走去,杰斯珀在前开路。

迈克西姆说:“我发现我们家虽然人不多,但在性格方面却是五花八门。比阿特丽斯是世界上最好的人,可她总是把事情弄糟。”

我不知道比阿特丽斯做错了什么事,再一想,最好还是别问。也许午饭前那场关于他健康状况的谈话直到此刻还使他耿耿于怀。

迈克西姆问我:“你对她印象如何?”

“我喜欢她,”我说。“她待我很好。”

“吃过中饭,她在外边跟你谈什么来着?”

“喔,这我可说不上来。好像主要都是我一个人在说话。我跟她谈起范-霍珀夫人,你我见面的经过,以及诸如此类的事情。她说我同她原先想象的大不一样。”

“她想象中的你究竟是什么样子?”

“我想,她以为我一定既漂亮又老练,用她的话来说,是个交际花。”

迈克西姆好一会儿没作声。他弯身扔出一段树枝,让杰斯珀去衔回。“比阿特丽斯有时候真是笨到极点,”他说。

我们登上草坪边上的草坡,钻进林子。树木长得很密,林子里十分幽暗。我们踏过断技残叶,不时还踩上刚刚露头的羊齿嫩绿的梗茎和行将开花的野风信子的新枝。此刻,杰斯珀已变得很老实,不住地用鼻子嗅着地面。我挽起迈克西姆的手臂。

“你喜欢我头发的样子吗?”我问。

他惊讶地低头凝视着我说:“你的头发?怎么会想到这上头去的?我当然喜欢。头发怎么啦?”

“没什么,”我说,“我只不过随口问一问。”

“你这人真怪!”他说。

我们来到林中的一片空地。这儿有两条方向恰好相反的小径。杰斯珀毫不犹豫地走上右手那条。

迈克西姆叫道:“别走那儿,回来,你这家伙。”

狗回过头来看看我们,不住地摇尾巴,可是照样站在原地,不肯跑回来。我问迈克西姆:“它干吗要走这条路?”

迈克西姆简短地说:“我想它大概是走惯了吧。打这儿过去是一个小海湾,以前我们一直有条船泊在那里。嗨,回来,杰斯珀!”

我俩不再说话,折入左手的小径。回过头去,我看见杰斯珀也跟着跑来了。

迈克西姆说:“这条路通向我曾跟你说起过的那个山谷,你马上就会闻到杜鹃花香。雨没什么关系,反而会使香味更浓一些。”

看来,这会儿他又恢复发了常态,神情轻松愉快。这才是我所了解并深爱着的迈克西姆。

他开始谈到总管事弗兰克-克劳利,说这个人怎么怎么好,多么周到,何其可靠,对曼陀丽确是赤胆忠心。

我想:“两人这样在一起多好,这才像在意大利度蜜月的那些日子。”我抬头朝他微笑,把他的手臂挽得更紧些。看到他脸上刚才那种反常的疲惫神态渐渐散去,我松了一口气。我一边应着“是的”,“真的吗”,“真想不到,亲爱的”等等,一边却又不由自主地想起比阿特丽斯。姐姐来访为什么使他不高兴呢?她做错了什么事?我还想到她关于迈克西姆的脾气的那些话,说什么他在一年里头总要发作一两次,等等。

当然,她是了解他的,毕竟是姐姐嘛!可她说的这些与我理想中的迈克西姆不是一回事。我能够想象他郁郁寡欢,跟人闹别扭的样子,也许有时脾气也很急躁;可我无法想象她话里所暗示的迈克西姆:金刚怒目,大发雷霆。也许她在夸张,人们对于自己亲人的看法往往是不正确的。

迈克西姆突然叫起来:“喂,看那边!”

我们正站在一座草木青葱的小山坡上,脚下小径蜿蜒,通向一个山谷,山谷边是一条潺潺的溪流。这儿没有黑压压的大树,也没有纷乱交错的矮树丛。小径两边是杜鹃和石南。这儿的石南花与车道上血红色的巨怪也不同,有的呈检红,有的呈白色和金黄,在蒙蒙夏雨之中低垂着婀娜娇柔的花穗,既秀美又优雅。

空气里洋溢着花香,其甜美熏人欲醉。我觉得鲜花的芬芳仿佛和潺潺的溪水融合在一起,同落地的雨滴以及我们脚下湿漉漉的茂盛的苦薛融成了一体。这儿除了小溪流水声和恬静的雨声,再没有别的声响。迈克西姆说话的时候,把声音压得很低,很轻,仿佛不想去打扰四下的宁静。

他告诉我:“我们把它叫做‘幸福谷’。”

我们默不作声地站着,观赏距我们最近的那些洁白的花朵。迈克西姆弯身捡起一片落地花瓣,塞在我手里。花瓣已经压碎,皱卷的边沿处开始变色,可是当我搓着手里的花瓣时,仍然闻到浓香,简直同长在树上那活生生的鲜花没什么两样。

接着,鸟儿开始啾鸣。起初是一只画眉,它的歌声清越而爽朗,在泪泪流水之上飘过。过了一会儿,藏在我们背后林子里的鸟儿应和着唱起来,四下的沉寂顿时化作一片嘈杂的鸟语。鸟儿的歌声尾随我们步入山谷;白色花瓣的清香一路伴着我们。这儿简直像个魔境,我不禁一怔。我没想到一切竟是如此之美……

天空乌云密布,十分阴沉,与午饭后的晴朗相经,大不一样。雨不住地下着,却丝毫不去惊扰山谷的静谧。雨声和溪水声交融在一起,而画眉那婉转的曲调在湿润的空气里回荡,与前面两者非常协调。我一路走去,身子擦过杜鹃往下渐沥滴水的花朵。杜鹃花沿着小径的边沿生长,成簇成团。小水滴从浸湿透了的花瓣里落在我手上。我的脚边也有不少花瓣,因浸泡多时已开始变色,可芳泽犹存,甚至变得更浓郁,同时却又不免带点陈腐。此外,还有多年苔藓的清香,泥土的苦涩味,羊齿梗和扭曲入地的树根的气息。我紧紧抓着迈克西姆的手,不敢出声。幸福谷的魔力把我整个儿摄住了。这儿才是曼陀丽的精随,我将熟识这个地方,并逐渐爱上它。站在这儿,我忘记了给我留下第一个印象的车道,忘记了黑糊糊的密林,和那色彩过于俗艳、姿态过于矜持、冲着你瞪眼的石南花。此外,我也忘了曼陀丽大宅,忘了那回响着脚步声的肃穆的大厅和蒙着罩单的哑寂的西侧厢房。在屋子里,我是个冒昧闯入的外人,在那些陌生的房间里来回浏览;我坐在那写字桌旁的椅子上,但桌椅都不归我所有。在这儿,情形完全两样,就幸福谷而论,无所谓冒昧闯入不闯入的问题。

我们走到小径的尽头,鲜花在我们头顶构成拱形,我们不得不弓着腰从下边钻过去。当我再次站直身子,抹去头发上的雨珠时,我发现幸福谷已同杜鹃花和树林一起被抛在后头。好几个星期前的一个下午,迈克西姆在蒙特卡洛曾对我描绘过这儿的景色。一点不错,我们此刻正站在一个狭小的海湾上,脚下是坚硬的白色圆卵石。再过去一点,流潮冲刷着海岸。

迈克西姆低头看着我脸上痴狂的表情,微微一笑。他说:“太美了,对吗?谁都没想到在这儿会突然见到大海。景色的骤变出人意料,甚至有点惊心动魄哩。”她拾起一块石子,丢到海滩那一头,让杰斯珀去追逐。小狗飞奔而去,它那黑色的长耳朵在风中啪啪扇动着。

于是,我俩不再痴狂出神,就好像魔法突然被解除了,我俩又变成在海滨嬉戏的普通凡人。我俩走到水边又扔出不少石片,看它们在水面上漂削而过;我们伸手到水里去捞取随波逐流的木片。涨潮了!波浪冲进海湾。小礁岩顿时被海水淹没,流潮带着水草,冲上岩石。我们捞起一块漂浮的木板,把它拖上岸,搁在满潮水标上方。迈克西姆大笑着向我转过身来,把技在眼睛处的头发掠上去。我卷起被海水打湿的胶布雨衣袖子。接着,我们回头四望,这才发现杰斯珀不见了。我们吆喝着,打着唿哨,可小狗还是没有出现。我焦急地朝海湾口子望去,只见潮水冲刷着礁岩。

迈克西姆说:“不会的,要是被海水卷走,我们肯定会看见的;它不会掉进大海。杰斯珀,你这个笨蛋,你在哪里?杰斯珀!杰斯珀!”

我说:“会不会它跑回幸福谷去了?”

刚才它还在那块礁岩旁边,嗅着一只死海鸥。”迈克西姆一路呼唤:“杰斯珀!杰斯珀!”

远远地,从海滩右边的礁石堆背后传来一声短促而凶恶的狗吠声。我对迈克西姆说:“听见吗?它从它儿翻越到那边去了。”说着,我便爬上那些滑溜溜的礁岩,朝狗吠方向赶去。

迈克西姆厉声喝住我:“回来!别朝那边走,这条笨狗,让它去吧!”

我站在礁岩上,往下张望,迟疑着说:“也许它摔下去了。可怜的小家伙,让我去把它带过来。”这时候,杰斯珀的吠声再次传来,不过,这回像是离得更远。我接着说:“啊,你听。我得把它叫回来,该不会有危险吧?潮水不会把它隔绝在那一边吧?”

迈克西姆暴躁地说:“它才不会出事呢!要你操什么心?它认得路,自己会跑回家去。”

我装作没听见,径自爬过礁岩,朝杰斯珀那边跑去。嶙峋的巨石遮住了视线。我在潮湿的礁岩上时而滑一下,时而绊一下,可还是尽快赶过去。我想,迈克西姆真忍心,竟扔下杰斯珀不管。这究竟是什么缘故?况且,这会儿正在涨潮。

我爬到那块遮住视线的巨石边,举目四望。我惊奇地发现脚下又是一个小海湾,与方才那个海湾很相似,只是略宽阔一些,环形的海岸线也比较整齐。海湾里横贯着一道防波石堤,防波堤里边,海湾便形成一个天然的小埠头。那里有一只浮筒,但没有船泊。这儿的海滩,同我背后的海滩一样,也全是白色的圆卵石,但这儿的滩头更陡峭些,突兀地探头伸入大海。树林一直蔓延过来,与满潮水标处的水草交错缠绕,几乎要长到礁岩上去了。树林边有一座狭长低矮的屋子,既像海滨小别墅,又像是一座船库。屋子是用造防波堤的那类石块砌成的。

海滩上有一个人,可能是渔夫,穿着长统靴和油布雨衣。杰斯珀正冲着此人吠叫,绕着他打转,还不时扑向他的靴子。可这人根本不予理会,自管自弯腰在砂石中摸索。我向长耳狗大声吆喝:杰斯珀!杰斯珀!过来。”

长耳狗摇着尾巴,抬头看看,但并不服从命令,仍然一个劲儿朝着海滩上这孤独的陌生人吠叫。

我回头望望,仍不见迈克西姆的影子。我只好翻过礁岩,朝下面的海滩走去,圆卵石上响着我嘎吱嘎吱的脚步声。听到这声音一,那陌生人抬起头来。这时,我才发现此人长着一双白痴那样眯缝着的眼睛和一张流口水的发红的嘴巴。他朝我笑笑,张开的嘴巴里没有牙齿,只有光秃秃的牙床。

“白天好,”他说,“真是邋遢天气,对吗?”

“下午好,”我回答道,“是的,天气是不太好。”

他饶有兴味地打量着我,一边憨笑不止。他向我说明:“我是在挖贝壳。吃中饭前就在挖了。可是这儿没有贝壳。”

“啊,”我说。“那可太遗憾了。”

“真的,这儿没有贝壳。”

我呼唤着长耳狗:“来,杰斯珀,天不早了。快来,亲爱的。”

可是,也许因为海上起了风浪,惹得它过分激动,杰斯珀这会儿火气正旺。它缩着身子从我身边循开,莫名其妙地吠个不停,一边又开始在海滩上漫无目标地乱窜乱跑。看来手边没有牵狗绳,它是不会乖乖跟我走的。

我转身对那陌生汉子说道(这时他弯着身子开始了一无收获的挖掘):“你有绳子吗?”

“啊?”

我只好重复一遍:“你有绳子吗?”

“这儿没有贝壳,”他摇摇头说。“吃中饭前就在挖了。”接着,他朝我点点头,还擦了擦他那水汪汪的淡蓝色眼睛。

“我想找根绳子拴着狗,”我说。“它不肯跟我走。”

“啊?”他又露出了那种白痴般的憨笑。

“没有的话就算了,没有关系的。”

他茫然看着我,接着弯身向前,用手戳戳我的胸口说:“我认识这条狗,它是宅子里养的。”

“不错,”我说。“现在我要它跟我回去。”

“它又不是你的狗。”

我轻声说:“它是德温特先生的狗,我要把它带回宅子去。”

“啊?”

我又一次呼唤杰斯珀,可它正在追逐一支随风飘荡的羽毛。我想在船库里大概总找得着一根绳子,于是就沿着海滩朝那小屋走去。这儿原先肯定是一座花园,可现在杂草丛生,同乱蓬蓬的芝麻连成了一片。窗子已经用木板钉死,由此看来门也一定上着锁。我把弹簧锁往上一拨,心里可没存多大希望。可是出乎意料,虽然开始时有点不灵活,门还是打开了。

门楣很低,我弓着腰走进去。我本以为这儿一定是个寻常的船库,因为经久不用,肯定脏得到处都是灰尘,绳子、木块和船桨会难得一地。不错,屋子里确实蒙着灰尘,也有不少污渍,但根本没有绳子、木块之类的杂物。整座小屋是一个家具齐全的房间。屋角放着一张书桌,另外还有一张桌子,几把椅子,靠墙放着一张坐卧两用的长沙发。镜台上放着杯碟;书架上堆满了书,架子顶上还有几具游艇模型。我第一个念头是这房间一定住人——也许海滩上那个可怜虫就以此为家。但是再四下一看,这才发现这屋子已好久没人来过。炉格生锈,证明炉子里已多时没生过火;蒙着厚厚灰尘的地板上没有脚印;镜台上的瓷器因为潮湿的缘故,也带上了不少蓝色的零斑。屋子里有一股怪异的霉味儿。蜘蛛在游艇模型上结网,给它们披挂狰狞可怕的帆桅索具。

房间里肯定不住人!这是一所人迹不至的弃屋。刚才推门时,铰链曾吱咯作响;而雨点啪嗒啪嗒地敲打着屋顶和钉着木板的窗户,声音又显得那么空洞!两用长沙发的套子已被耗子咬破,露着锯齿状的裂口和皱叠的破边。屋子里很潮湿,阴冷不堪,显得幽暗而压抑。我害怕,不想再呆在这儿。我讨厌雨点拍打屋顶发出的那种空洞的声音,这声音似乎在屋子里处处引起回响,我还听到生锈炉格里边漏水的滴答声。

我环顾四周想找根绳子,可是房间里根本没有可以用来拴狗的东西。房间的另一头还有一扇门。我走过去把门推开,这时我已经有点战战兢兢,感到一种莫名其妙的恐惧,生怕不知不觉中会碰上某种我不愿看见的怪物,某种会加害于我的极其可怕的怪物。

这一切当然都绝顶荒谬。一打开那扇门,我发现我只不过是进了一座十足的船库,这儿有我想象中的绳子和木块,还有两三张船帆、一些护舷用的材料、一艘小小的平底船、几口漆锅和那些驾船出海时省不了的缆索杂物。架子上放着一团双股麻线,边上还有一把生了锈的折叠式小刀。有这些东西,足够对付杰斯珀了。于是,我就把刀打开,割下一段麻线,然后又回到刚才那房间里。雨还是滴滴答答地敲打着屋顶,漏进炉架。

我不敢朝那张破沙发、那些发霉的瓷器和游艇模型上的蜘蛛网再看一眼,头也不回地穿过吱咯作响的门,快步冲出小屋,来到白色的海滩上。

陌生人这会儿已停止了挖掘,他瞠目望着我,杰斯珀在一旁守着他。

“来,杰斯珀,”我向长耳狗吆喝。“过来,宝贝儿。”我弯下身,这一口它倒由我抓着颈子上的项圈听任摆弄了。

“在小屋里我找到了一段绳子,”我对陌生人说。可他仍然一言不发。

我把绳子松松地挂在项圈上,拉着杰斯珀,一面对陌生人说了声“再见”。他点点头,同时仍用那白痴似的小眼睛盯着我,说道:“我看见你跑进那儿去了。”

“是的,”我说。“没关系,德温特先生不会责怪的。”

“她现在不再上那儿去了,”陌生人说。

“是啊,现在不去了。”

“她出海了,对吗?她不会再回来了,是吗?”

“是的,不会再回来了。”

“我可什么也没说,对吗?”

“当然,当然,别担心。”

他又弯下身子去挖掘,一边含糊不清地自言自语。我穿过布满回卵石的海滩,这才看到迈克西姆双手插在衣袋里,站在礁岩旁等我。

我说:“对不起,杰斯珀不肯回来,我只好去找绳子。”

他蓦地转过身,朝林子走去。

我问他;“不从礁石堆翻过去吗?”

“干吗要翻礁石?这不到了吗?”他简短地说。

我们经过海滨小屋,走上一条林间小径。“对不起,我走开了这么久。都是杰斯珀不好,”我说。“它冲着那陌生人吠叫,那人是谁?”

“噢,那人叫贝恩,”迈克西姆说。“一个与世无争的可怜虫。他老父亲过去是曼陀丽的看守人,家子就住在庄园附近。这根绳子你是从哪儿弄来的?”

“从那海滨小屋,”我说。

“小屋的门开着吗?”他问。

“是的,我一推,门就开了,绳子是在里屋贮藏室找到的,那儿有一艘小船,还堆着些帆篷。”

“噢,明白啦,”他应了一句,不再说什么。过了好一会,他才又接着说:“那小屋应该是上锁的,怎么会开着门呢?”

我没有回答,这不关我的事。

“是贝恩告诉你小屋的门开着吗?”

“不,看上去,这个人对我的问话一点也不明白。”

“他是装傻,让别人以为他什么也不懂,”迈克西姆说。“其实,他可以把话说得既清楚又明白。也许他一直在那小屋里进进出出,只是不想让人知道罢了。”

“不会吧,”我回答说。“那屋子看上去不像有人进出,到处积着灰尘,上面没有脚印。屋子里非常潮湿,恐怕会把那些书都给毁了,还有那些椅子和沙发。老鼠很多,已经咬破不少椅面。”

迈克西姆没有回答我的话。尽管从海滩上坡的路很陡,他还是迈着大步走。这儿的景色与幸福谷大相径庭。黑糊糊的树木长得很密,道旁也没有杜鹃花。雨水从粗大的树枝上成串滴下,打在我的衣领上,一点一点顺着我的脖子淌下。我打着寒颤,这种滋味实在不好受,就像有一只冰冷的手指按着你的颈脖。方才在礁岩上攀爬了一阵,过去又不习惯于这样的运动,我的双腿酸痛得厉害。杰斯珀因为刚才发疯似的蹦跳,这会儿也累了,吐着舌头,落在我俩后面。

迈克西姆喝道:“杰斯珀,看上帝面上,跑快点!”接着他又对我说:“设法让它跟上,你不能把绳子收紧些吗?或者想个别的办法?比阿特丽斯的话不错,这条狗确实太肥了。”

我口答说:“这是你不好,你走得那么快,我和杰斯珀都跟不上。”

“要是刚才你听了我的话,而不是那样疯疯癫癫地翻越礁岩赶去,这会儿我们早到家了。杰斯珀熟悉这儿的路,自己能跑回去。我简直不懂你为什么非去找它不可。”

“我怕它摔着了,而且正好又是涨潮的时候,”我说。

“要是有一点儿淹水的危险,我会丢下狗不管吗?我叫你别去爬那些岩石,你不听,这会儿却又累得叫苦连天。”

“我没有叫苦,即使长了一双铁腿,按这样的步子走路,也会累坏的。我去找杰斯珀的时候,总以为你会陪着我,谁知你就是不肯过来。”

“我才不跟着这条该死的畜生去乱跑呢!不累死人吗?”

“跟着杰斯珀爬岩石,并不见得比在海滩上奔跑着追逐水里漂流的浮水梗累一些,”我回答说。“你这么说是因为你找不到其他借口。”

“我的好乖乖,我要找借口干什么?”

我厌倦地答道:“这个,我不知道。算了,不谈这些了。”

“干吗不谈?是你先挑起来的。你说我是想找借口,这话到底什么意思?我要找借口干什么?”

“我觉得你要找个借口,说明你不跟我一起翻越礁岩是有理的。”

“那么,你认为我不愿到这边的海滩上来是为什么?”

“喔,这我怎么知道?我又不是那种一眼就能看出别人思想活动的人。我只知道你不愿到这边来,这点我从你脸上看出来了。”

“你在我脸上看到了什么?”

“我不是告诉你了?我看得出你不愿过来。喔,算了,到此为止吧。对于这个话题,我实在腻啦。”

“女人在说不过别人而理亏时,都用这个法宝。好吧,就算我不愿跑到这边的海滩上来,这下你称心了吧?我决不走近这鬼地方,还有那该死的海滩小屋!要是你头脑里同样保存着我对往事的种种记忆,你也会不愿走近,不愿谈论这鬼地方,甚至想也不愿想。行啦,这些话你自己去理解消化吧。但愿这一下你满意了。”

他脸色发白,眼睛里又露出我头一回见到他时的那种深这莫测的表情,惶恐而凄苦。我伸出手去,紧紧握住他的手,说道:“喔,迈克西姆,迈克西姆!”

“什么事?”他粗暴地说。

“我不要你这样,看着叫人心都碎了。求求你,迈克西姆,把刚才这一切全忘了吧,一场无谓的、愚蠢的争论。亲爱的,我难过,我真难过。算了,讲和吧。”

“我们应该留在意大利,”他说。“我们原不该再回曼陀丽来。啊,上帝,我多蠢,干吗要回来?”

他性急火燎地穿过树林走去,步子更快了。我噙着眼泪,不得不气喘吁吁地急奔着赶上他,一边还狠命拉着身后可怜的杰斯珀。

我们终于走到这条上坡小径的顶端,这时我才看到一条同样的小路向左拐去,通向幸福谷。原来,我们这会儿攀上来的这小径,就是下午散步开始时杰斯珀想走的那条路。现在我懂得长耳狗为什么一下子就往这条路上跑,因为这条路通向它最熟悉的海滩和小屋,这是它走惯了的老路。

我们走出林子来到草坪上,然后又默不作声地穿过草坪回到屋里。迈克西姆绷着脸,不带任何表情。他径直穿过大厅,走进藏书室,压根儿不看我一眼。弗里思正在大厅里迎候。

“马上把茶送来,”迈克西姆吩咐完,随即关上藏书室的门。

我使劲忍着眼泪。可不能让弗里思瞧见啊!不然的话,他会以为我俩吵架了,那样他就会跑到仆役中间去闹个满城风雨:“太太这会儿正在大厅里哭鼻子,看来事情不妙啊!”我转过身去,不让弗里思看到我的脸。可是他竟朝我走来,帮我脱下胶布雨衣。

“太太,我来把雨衣放到花房去,”他说。

“谢谢你,弗里思,”我回答说,仍把脸偏在一边。

“太太,这样的天气散步恐怕不太理想吧。”

“是的,是的,不太理想。”

“太太,这是您的手绢?”他从地上拾起了什么东西,我顺手把它塞进衣袋,说了一声谢谢。

我一时拿不定主意,究竟是上楼呢,还是跟着迈克西姆进藏书室。弗里思拿着雨衣到花房去了。我站在那儿咬指甲,进退维谷。弗里思又回来了,他看到我还在原地,露出很诧异的神色。

“太太,藏书室里这会儿已生了火。”

“谢谢你,弗里思。”我慢慢穿过大厅向藏书室走去。我推开门,进了房间,只见迈克西姆坐在老位子上,杰斯珀躺在他的脚边,那条老狗则趴在自己的篓子里。他不在读报,虽然报纸就搁在他身边椅子的扶手上。我走过去,挨着他跪下,把自己的脸凑近他。

我轻轻说:“别再生我气啦!”

他双手捧着我的脸,用疲乏而惶恐的目光望着我,说道:“我没有生你的气。”

“不。是我惹你不高兴的,这就等于惹你生气。你的内心受了伤,看着你这种样子我实在不忍心。我多么爱你!”

“真的?真的爱我吗?”他紧紧搂着我,以深邃阴郁而游移不定的目光询问似地望着我,那是一个孩子在担惊受怕时的痛苦的眼神。

“怎么啦?亲爱的,”我问他。“你的脸色为什么这样难看”?

没等他回答,我听见门开了,于是就赶快把身子缩回来,仿佛刚才是在伸手取木柴,准备投进壁炉。弗里思和罗伯特一前一后走进来,午后用茶的那一套仪式又开始了。

还是跟上一天一样,拉开桌子,铺上雪白的台布,端上蛋糕、松饼和放在小火炉上的银质水壶。杰斯珀摇尾贴耳,望着我的脸,期望能一饱口福。两个仆人大概过了足足五分钟才离开,这时我再看看迈克西姆,才发现他脸上重新有了血色,那疲乏而茫然的表情消失了,他正伸手去取一块三明治。

他说:“事情就坏在请了那么些人来吃午饭。可怜的比阿特丽斯,她老是惹我,小时候,我俩就像两条狗似地斗嘴吵架,闹个没完。尽管如此,我还是深深爱她,祈求上帝保佑她。不过,幸好这对夫妇住得离我们不算太近。说到这儿,我倒想起来了,我们还得找个时间去看看老奶奶。宝贝儿,给我倒茶,刚才我对你太粗暴,原谅我吧。”

事情总算过去了,这一段插曲就此收场,决不能再提起。他把茶杯举在嘴边,向我微笑,接着就伸手去拿搁在椅子扶手上的报纸。这一笑就算是对我的酬报,正像在杰斯珀头上轻轻拍一下,意思是说:可爱的小狗,快躺下,别再来打扰我。这样,我又变成了杰斯珀似的角色,恢复了原来的地位。我取了一块松饼,分给两条狗吃。我自己则是一点也不饿,什么也吃不下。我只觉得十分厌倦,没精打采,心力交瘁。

我又朝迈克西姆望望,他正在读报,而且已经翻到另一页上。我的手指沾满松饼上的黄油,于是就伸手到衣袋去摸手绢。我从袋里抽出一方绣花边的小手帕,我皱着眉头,盯着它看,因为手帕不是我的。这时,我才记起刚才弗里思从大厅的石板地上拾起的就是这块手帕,那大概是从胶布雨衣的袋子里掉出来的。我把它拿在拿里翻来复去地端详。手帕很脏,上面沾着一小团一小团雨衣口袋里的绒毛,看来,它在雨衣袋里一定已放了好久。手帕角上绣着字;一个高大的斜体字母“R”横穿着与“德温”等字母构成交织图案。与“R”相比,其他的字母显得非常矮小;“R”的那一捺拖得特别长,从绣花边一直伸到细麻纱手帕的中央。手帕只是小小的一方,被捏作一团,就被遗忘在雨衣袋里了。

自从有人用那方手帕以来,我一定是第一个穿上这件胶布雨衣的人。这么说来,上一回穿这件雨衣的女人身材颀长,亭亭玉立,肩膀比我丰满。我穿着雨衣不是觉得既大又长吗?袖子把手腕都这没了。雨衣上缺几颗纽扣。那女人压根儿没想到把它们缝上去,她大概把雨衣当作一件斗篷,随手往肩上一披,或是把手插在口袋里,听其自然地让雨衣敞开着……

手帕上有一块粉红色的标记,这是口红的痕迹。她曾用手帕擦过嘴唇,接着就把它捏作一团,塞进衣袋。用手帕擦着手指的当儿,我注意到手帕上还留着一点隐约的香味。

我辨出这是一种我熟悉的香味。我闭上眼睛,费力地回忆着。这是一种飘忽不定、难以名状的清淡的幽香。我曾在什么地方闻到过这种香味,肯定就在这天下午的哪个时候。

我明白了,手帕上那遗留的气息正是幸福谷中被碾碎的白色杜鹃花瓣的香味!
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Chapter ten
 
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Chapter ten

We watched the car disappear round the sweep of the drive, and then Maxim took my arm and said, "Thank God that's that. Get a coat quickly, and come out. Damn the rain, I want a walk. I can't stand this sitting about. ' He looked white and strained, and I wondered why the entertaining of Beatrice and Giles, his own sister and brother-in-law, should have tired him so. 'Wait while I run upstairs for my coat, ' I said. "There's a heap of mackintoshes in the flower-room, get one of them, ' he said impatiently, 'women are always half an hour when they go to their bedrooms. Robert, fetch a coat from the flower-room, will you, for Mrs de Winter? There must be half a dozen raincoats hanging there left by people at one time or another. ' He was already standing in the drive, and calling to Jasper, 'Come on, you lazy little beggar, and take some of that fat off. ' Jasper ran round in circles, barking hysterically at the prospect of his walk. 'Shut up, you idiot, ' said Maxim. 'What on earth is Robert doing?' Robert came running out of the hall carrying a raincoat, and I struggled into it hurriedly, fumbling with the collar. It was too big, of course, and too long, but there was no time to change it, and we set off together across the lawn to the woods, Jasper running in front. 'I find a little of my family goes a very long way, ' said Maxim. 'Beatrice is one of the best people in the world, but she invariably puts her foot in it. ' I was not sure where Beatrice had blundered, and thought it better not to ask. Perhaps he still resented the chat about his health before lunch. 'I liked her very much, ' I said; 'she was very nice to me. ' 'What did she talk to you about out here, after lunch?' 'Oh, I don't know. I think I did most of the talking. I was telling her about Mrs Van Hopper, and how you and I met, and all that. She said I was quite different from what she expected. ' 'What the devil did she expect?' 'Someone much smarter, more sophisticated, I imagine. A social butterfly, she said. ' Maxim did not answer for a moment; he bent down, and threw a stick for Jasper. 'Beatrice can sometimes be infernally unintelligent, ' he said. We climbed the grass bank above the lawns, and plunged into the woods. The trees grew very close together, and it was dark. We trod upon broken twigs, and last year's leaves, and here and there the fresh green stubble of the young bracken, and the shoots of the bluebells soon to blossom. Jasper was silent now, his nose to the ground. I took Maxim's arm. 'Do you like my hair?' I said. He stared down at me in astonishment. 'Your hair?' he said. 'Why on earth do you ask? Of course I like it. What's the matter with it?' 'Oh, nothing, ' I said, 'I just wondered. ' 'How funny you are, ' he said. We came to a clearing in the woods, and there were two paths, going in opposite directions.

Jasper took the right-hand path without hesitation. 'Not that way, ' called Maxim; 'come on, old chap. ' The dog looked back at us and stood there, wagging his tail, but did not return. 'Why does he want to go that way?' I asked. 'I suppose he's used to it, ' said Maxim briefly; 'it leads to a small cove, where we used to keep a boat. Come on, Jasper, old man. ' We turned into the left-hand path, not saying anything, and presently I looked over my shoulder and saw that Jasper was following us. 'This brings us to the valley I told you about, ' said Maxim, 'and you shall smell the azaleas. Never mind the rain, it will bring out the scent. ' He seemed all right again now, happy and cheerful, the Maxim I knew and loved, and he began talking about Frank Crawley and what a good fellow he was, so thorough and reliable, and devoted to Manderley. 'This is better, ' I thought; 'this is like it was in Italy', and I smiled up at him, squeezing his arm, relieved that the odd strained look on his face had passed away, and while I said 'Yes, ' and 'Really?' and 'Fancy, darling, ' my thoughts wandered back to Beatrice, wondering why her presence should have disturbed him, what she had done; and I thought too of all she had said about his temper, how he lost it, she told me, about once or twice a year. She must know him, of course; she was his sister. But it was not what I had thought; it was not my idea of Maxim. I could see him moody, difficult, irritable perhaps, but not angry as she had inferred, not passionate. Perhaps she had exaggerated; people very often were wrong about their relatives. 'There, ' said Maxim suddenly, 'take a look at that. ' We stood on a slope of a wooded hill, and the path wound away before us to a valley, by the side of a running stream. There were no dark trees here, no tangled undergrowth, but on either side of the narrow path stood azaleas and rhododendrons, not blood-coloured like the giants in the drive, but salmon, white, and gold, things of beauty and of grace, drooping their lovely, delicate heads in the soft summer rain. The air was full of their scent, sweet and heady, and it seemed to me as though their very essence had mingled with the running waters of the stream, and become one with the falling rain and the dank rich moss beneath our feet.

There was no sound here but the tumbling of the little stream, and the quiet rain. When Maxim spoke, his voice was hushed too, gentle and low, as if he had no wish to break upon the silence. 'We call it the Happy Valley, ' he said. We stood quite still, not speaking, looking down upon the clear white faces of the flowers closest to us, and Maxim stooped, and picked up a fallen petal and gave it to me. It was crushed and bruised, and turning brown at the curled edge, but as I rubbed it across my hand the scent rose to me, sweet and strong, vivid as the living tree from which it came. Then the birds began. First a blackbird, his note clear and cool above the running stream, and after a moment he had answer from his fellow hidden in the woods behind us, and soon the still air about us was made turbulent with song, pursuing us as we wandered down into the valley, and the fragrance of the white petals followed us too. It was disturbing, like an enchanted place. I had not thought it could be as beautiful as this. The sky, now overcast and sullen, so changed from the early afternoon, and the steady insistent rain could not disturb the soft quietude of the valley; the rain and the rivulet mingled with one another, and the liquid note of the blackbird fell upon the damp air in harmony with them both. I brushed the dripping heads of azaleas as I passed, so close they grew together, bordering the path. Little drops of water fell on to my hands from the soaked petals. There were petals at my feet too, brown and sodden, bearing their scent upon them still, and a richer, older scent as well, the smell of deep moss and bitter earth, the stems of bracken, and the twisted buried roots of trees. I held Maxim's hand and I had not spoken. The spell of the Happy Valley was upon me. This at last was the core of Manderley, the Manderley I would know and learn to love. The first drive was forgotten, the black, herded woods, the glaring rhododendrons, luscious and overproud. And the vast house too, the silence of that echoing hall, the uneasy stillness of the west wing, wrapped in dust-sheets. There I was an interloper, wandering in rooms that did not know me, sitting at a desk and in a chair that were not mine. Here it was different. The Happy Valley knew no trespassers. We came to the end of the path, and the flowers formed an archway above our heads.
 
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We bent down, passing underneath, and when I stood straight again, brushing the raindrops from my hair, I saw that the valley was behind us, and the azaleas, and the trees, and, as Maxim had described to me that afternoon many weeks ago in Monte Carlo, we were standing in a little narrow cove, the shingle hard and white under our feet, and the sea was breaking on the shore beyond us. Maxim smiled down at me, watching the bewilderment on my face. 'It's a shock, isn't it?' he said; 'no one ever expects it. The contrast is too sudden; it almost hurts. ' He picked up a stone and flung it across the beach for Jasper. 'Fetch it, good man, ' and Jasper streaked away in search of the stone, his long black ears flapping in the wind. The enchantment was no more, the spell was broken. We were mortal again, two people playing on a beach. We threw more stones, went to the water's edge, flung ducks and drakes, and fished for driftwood. The tide had turned, and came lapping in the bay. The small rocks were covered, the seaweed washed on the stones. We rescued a big floating plank and carried it up the beach above high-water mark. Maxim turned to me, laughing, wiping the hair out of his eyes, and I unrolled the sleeves of my mackintosh caught by the sea spray. And then we looked round, and saw that Jasper had disappeared. We called and whistled, and he did not come. I looked anxiously towards the mouth of the cove where the waves were breaking upon the rocks. 'No, ' said Maxim, 'we should have seen him, he can't have fallen. Jasper, you idiot, where are you? Jasper, Jasper?' 'Perhaps he's gone back to the Happy Valley?' I said. 'He was by that rock a minute ago, sniffing a dead seagull, ' said Maxim. We walked up the beach towards the valley once again. 'Jasper, Jasper?' called Maxim. In the distance, beyond the rocks to the right of the beach, I heard a short, sharp bark. 'Hear that?' I said. 'He's climbed over this way. ' I began to scramble up the slippery rocks in the direction of the bark. 'Come back, ' said Maxim sharply; 'we don't want to go that way. The fool of a dog must look after himself. ' I hesitated, looked down from my rock. 'Perhaps he's fallen, ' I said, 'poor little chap. Let me fetch him. ' Jasper barked again, further away this time. 'Oh, listen, ' I said, 'I must get him. It's quite safe, isn't it? The tide won't have cut him off?' 'He's all right, ' said Maxim irritably; 'why not leave him? He knows his own way back. ' I pretended not to hear, and began scrambling over the rocks towards Jasper.

Great jagged boulders screened the view, and I slipped and stumbled on the wet rocks, making my way as best I could in Jasper's direction. It was heartless of Maxim to leave Jasper, I thought, and I could not understand it. Besides, the tide was coming in. I came up beside the big boulder that had hidden the view, and looked beyond it. And I saw, to my surprise, that I was looking down into another cove, similar to the one I had left, but wider and more rounded. A small stone breakwater had been thrown out across the cove for shelter, and behind it the bay formed a tiny natural harbour. There was a buoy anchored there, but no boat. The beach in the cove was white shingle, like the one behind me, but steeper, shelving suddenly to the sea. The woods came right down to the tangle of seaweed marking high water, encroaching almost to the rocks themselves, and at the fringe of the woods was a long low building, half cottage, half boat-house, built of the same stone as the breakwater. There was a man on the beach, a fisherman perhaps, in long boots and a sou'wester, and Jasper was barking at him, running round him in circles, darting at his boots. The man took no notice; he was bending down, and scraping in the shingle. 'Jasper, ' I shouted, 'Jasper, come here. ' The dog looked up, wagging his tail, but he did not obey me. He went on baiting the solitary figure on the beach. I looked over my shoulder. There was still no sign of Maxim. I climbed down over the rocks to the beach below. My feet made a crunching noise across the shingle, and the man looked up at the sound. I saw then that he had the small slit eyes of an idiot, and the red, wet mouth. He smiled at me, showing toothless gums. 'G'day, ' he said. 'Dirty, ain't it?' 'Good afternoon, ' I said. 'No. I'm afraid it's not very nice weather. ' He watched me with interest, smiling all the while. 'Diggin' forshell, ' he said. 'No shell here. Been diggin' since forenoon. ' 'Oh, ' I said, 'I'm sorry you can't find any. ' 'That's right, ' he said, 'no shell here. ' 'Come on, Jasper, ' I said, 'it's getting late. Come on, old boy. ' But Jasper was in an infuriating mood. Perhaps the wind and the sea had gone to his head, for he backed away from me, barking stupidly, and began racing round the beach after nothing at all. I saw he would never follow me, and I had no lead.

I turned to the man, who had bent down again to his futile digging. 'Have you got any string?' I said. 'Eh?' he said. 'Have you got any string?' I repeated. 'No shell here, ' he said, shaking his head. 'Been diggin' since forenoon. ' He nodded his head at me, and wiped his pale blue watery eyes. 'I want something to tie the dog, ' I said. 'He won't follow me. ' 'Eh?' he said. And he smiled his poor idiot's smile. 'All right, ' I said; 'it doesn't matter. ' He looked at me uncertainly, and then leant forward, and poked me in the chest. 'I know that dog, ' he said; 'he comes fro' the house. ' 'Yes, ' I said. 'I want him to come back with me now. ' 'He's Mr de Winter's dog, ' I said gently. 'I want to take him back to the house. ' 'Eh?' he said. I called Jasper once more, but he was chasing a feather blown by the wind. I wondered if there was any string in the boat-house, and I walked up the beach towards it. There must have been a garden once, but now the grass was long and overgrown, crowded with nettles. The windows were boarded up. No doubt the door was locked, and I lifted the latch without much hope. To my surprise it opened after the first stiffness, and I went inside, bending my head because of the low door. I expected to find the usual boat store, dirty and dusty with disuse, ropes and blocks and oars upon the floor. The dust was there, and the dirt too in places, but there were no ropes or blocks. The room was furnished, and ran the whole length of the cottage. There was a desk in the corner, a table, and chairs, and a bed-sofa pushed against the wall. There was a dresser too, with cups and plates. Bookshelves, the books inside them, and models of ships standing on the top of the shelves. For a moment I thought it must be inhabited - perhaps the poor man on the beach lived here - but I looked around me again and saw no sign of recent occupation. That rusted grate knew no fire, this dusty floor no footsteps, and the china there on the dresser was blue-spotted with the damp. There was a queer musty smell about the place. Cobwebs spun threads upon the ships' models, making their own ghostly rigging. No one lived here. No one came here. The door had creaked on its hinges when I opened it. The rain pattered on the roof with a hollow sound, and tapped upon the boarded windows. The fabric of the sofa-bed had been nibbled by mice or rats. I could see the jagged holes, and the frayed edges. It was damp in the cottage, damp and chill. Dark, and oppressive. I did not like it. I had no wish to stay there. I hated the hollow sound of the rain pattering on the roof.
 
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It seemed to echo in the room itself, and I heard the water dripping too into the rusted grate. I looked about me for some string. There was nothing that would serve my purpose, nothing at all. There was another door at the end of the room, and I went to it, and opened it, a little fearful now, a little afraid, for I had the odd, uneasy feeling that I might come upon something unawares, that I had no wish to see. Something that might harm me, that might be horrible. It was nonsense of course, and I opened the door. It was only a boat store after all. Here were the ropes and blocks I had expected, two or three sails, fenders, a small punt, pots of paints, all the litter and junk that goes with the using of boats. A ball of twine lay on a shelf, a rusted clasp knife beside it. This would be all I needed for Jasper. I opened the knife, and cut a length of twine, and came back into the room again. The rain still fell upon the roof, and into the grate. I came out of the cottage hurriedly, not looking behind me, trying not to see the torn sofa and the mildewed china, the spun cobwebs on the model ships, and so through the creaking gate and on to the white beach. The man was not digging any more; he was watching me, Jasper at his side. 'Come along, Jasper, ' I said; 'come on, good dog. ' I bent down and this time he allowed me to touch him and pull hold of his collar. 'I found some string in the cottage, ' I said to the man. He did not answer, and I tied the string loosely round Jasper's collar. 'Good afternoon, ' I said, tugging at Jasper. " The man nodded, staring at me with his narrow idiot's eyes. 'I saw'ee go in yonder, ' he said. 'Yes, ' I said; 'it's all right, Mr de Winter won't mind. ' 'She don't go in there now, ' he said. 'No, ' I said, 'not now. ' 'She's gone in the sea, ain't she?' he said; 'she won't come back no more?' 'No, ' I said, 'she'll not come back. ' 'I never said nothing, did I?' he said. 'No, of course not; don't worry, ' I said. He bent down again to his digging, muttering to himself. I went across the shingle and I saw Maxim waiting for me by the rocks, his hands in his pockets. 'I'm sorry, ' I said. 'Jasper would not come. I had to get some string. ' He turned abruptly on his heel, and made towards the woods. 'Aren't we going back over the rocks?' I said. 'What's the point? We're here now, ' he said briefly. We went up past the cottage and struck into a path through the woods.

'I'm sorry I was such a time; it was Jasper's fault, ' I said, 'he kept barking at the man. Who was he?' 'Only Ben, ' said Maxim; 'he's quite harmless, poor devil. His old father used to be one of the keepers; they live near the home farm. Where did you get that piece of twine?' 'I found it in the cottage on the beach, ' I said. 'Was the door open?' he asked. 'Yes, I pushed it open. I found the string in the other room, where the 'Oh, ' he said shortly. 'Oh, I see, ' and then he added, after a moment or two: "That cottage is supposed to be locked, the door has no business to be open. ' I said nothing; it was not my affair. 'Did Ben tell you the door was open?' 'No, ' I said, 'he did not seem to understand anything I asked him. ' 'He makes out he's worse than he is, ' said Maxim. 'He can talk quite intelligibly if he wants to. He's probably been in and out of the cottage dozens of times, and did not want you to know. ' 'I don't think so, ' I answered; 'the place looked deserted, quite untouched. There was dust everywhere, and no footmarks. It was terribly damp. I'm afraid those books will be quite spoilt, and the chairs, and that sofa. There are rats there, too; they have eaten away some of the covers. ' Maxim did not reply. He walked at a tremendous pace, and the climb up from the beach was steep. It was very different from the Happy Valley. The trees were dark here and close together, there were no azaleas brushing the path. The rain dripped heavily from the thick branches. It splashed on my collar and trickled down my neck. I shivered; it was unpleasant, like a cold finger. My legs ached, after the unaccustomed scramble over the rocks. And Jasper lagged behind, weary from his wild scamper, his tongue hanging from his mouth. 'Come on, Jasper, for God's sake, ' said Maxim. 'Make him walk up, pull at the twine or something, can't you? Beatrice was right. The dog is much too fat. ' 'It's your fault, ' I said, 'you walk so fast. We can't keep up with you. ' 'If you had listened to me instead of rushing wildly over those rocks we would have been home by now, ' said Maxim. 'Jasper knew his way back perfectly. I can't think what you wanted to go after him for. ' 'I thought he might have fallen, and I was afraid of the tide, ' I said. 'Is it likely I should have left the dog had there been any question of the tide?' said Maxim. 'I told you not to go on those rocks, and now you are grumbling because you are tired. ' 'I'm not grumbling, ' I said. 'Anyone, even if they had legs of iron, would be tired walking at this pace.

I thought you would come with me when I went after Jasper anyway, instead of staying behind. ' 'Why should I exhaust myself careering after the damn dog?' he said. 'It was no more exhausting careering after Jasper on the rocks than it was careering after the driftwood on the beach, ' I answered. 'You just say that because you have not any other excuse. ' 'My good child, what am I supposed to excuse myself about?' 'Oh, I don't know, ' I said wearily; 'let's stop this. ' 'Not at all, you began it. What do you mean by saying I was trying to find an excuse? Excuse for what?' 'Excuse for not having come with me over the rocks, I suppose, ' I said. 'Well, and why do you think I did not want to cross to the other beach?' 'Oh, Maxim, how should I know? I'm not a thought-reader. I know you did not want to, that's all. I could see it in your face. ' 'See what in my face?' I've already told you. I could see you did not want to go. Oh, do let's have an end to it. I'm sick to death of the subject. ' 'All women say that when they've lost an argument. All right, I did not want to go to the other beach. Will that please you? I never go near the bloody place, or that God-damned cottage. And if you had my memories you would not want to go there either, or talk about it, or even think about it. There. You can digest that if you like, and I hope it satisfies you. ' His face was white, and his eyes strained and wretched with that dark lost look they had had when I first met him. I put out my hand to him, I took hold of his, holding it tight. 'Please, Maxim, please, ' I said. 'What's the matter?' he said roughly. 'I don't want you to look like that, ' I said. 'It hurts too much. Please, Maxim. Let's forget all we said. A futile silly argument. I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry. Please let everything be all right. ' 'We ought to have stayed in Italy, ' he said. 'We ought never to have come back to Manderley. Oh, God, what a fool I was to come back. ' He brushed through the trees impatiently, striding even faster than before, and I had to run to keep pace with him, catching at my breath, tears very near the surface, dragging poor Jasper after me on the end of his string. At last we came to the top of the path, and I saw its fellow branching left to the Happy Valley. We had climbed the path then that Jasper had wished to take at the beginning of the afternoon.
 
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I knew now why Jasper had turned to it. It led to the beach he knew best, and the cottage. It was his old routine. We came out on to the lawns, and went across them to the house without a word. Maxim's face was hard, with no expression. He went straight into the hall and on to the library without looking at me. Frith was in the hall. 'We want tea at once, ' said Maxim, and he shut the library door. I fought to keep back my tears. Frith must not see them. He would think we had been quarrelling, and he would go to the servants' hall and say to them all, 'Mrs de Winter was crying in the hall just now. It looks as though things are not going very well. ' I turned away, so that Frith should not see my face. He came towards me though, he began to help me off with my mackintosh. 'I'll put your raincoat away for you in the flower-room, Madam, ' he said. 'Thank you, Frith, ' I replied, my face still away from him. 'Not a very pleasant afternoon for a walk, I fear, Madam. ' 'No, ' I said. 'No, it was not very nice. ' 'Your handkerchief, Madam?' he said, picking up something that had fallen on the floor. 'Thank you, ' I said, putting it in my pocket. I was wondering whether to go upstairs or whether to follow Maxim to the library. Frith took the coat to the flower-room. I stood there, hesitating, biting my nails. Frith came back again. He looked surprised to see me still there. "There is a good fire in the library now, Madam. ' 'Thank you, Frith, ' I said. I walked slowly across the hall to the library. I opened the door and went in. Maxim was sitting in his chair, Jasper at his feet, the old dog in her basket. Maxrim was not reading the paper, though it lay on the arm of the chair beside him. I went and knelt down by his side and put my face close to his. 'Don't be angry with me any more, ' I whispered. He took my face in his hands, and looked down at me with his tired, strained eyes. 'I'm not angry with you, ' he said. 'Yes, ' I said. 'I've made you unhappy. It's the same as making you angry. You're all wounded and hurt and torn inside. I can't bear to see you like this. I love you so much. ' 'Do you?' he said. 'Do you?' He held me very tight, and his eyes questioned me, dark and uncertain, the eyes of a child in pain, a child in fear. 'What is it, darling?' I said. 'Why do you look like that?' I heard the door open before he could answer, and I sank back on my heels, pretending to reach for a log to throw on the fire, while Frith came into the room followed by Robert, and the ritual of our tea began.

The performance of the day before was repeated, the placing of the table, the laying of the snow-white cloth, the putting down of cakes and crumpets, the silver kettle of hot water placed on its little flame, while Jasper, wagging his tail, his ears stretched back in anticipation, watched my face. Five minutes must have passed before we were alone again, and when I looked at Maxim I saw the colour had come back into his face, the tired, lost look was gone, and he was reaching for a sandwich. 'Having all that crowd to lunch was the trouble, ' he said. 'Poor old Beatrice always does rub me up the wrong way. We used to scrap like dogs as children. I'm so fond of her too, bless her. Such a relief though that they don't live too near. Which reminds me, we'll have to go over and see Granny some time. Pour out my tea, sweetheart, and forgive me for being a bear to you. ' It was over then. The episode was finished. We must not speak of it again. He smiled at me over his cup of tea, and then reached for the newspaper on the arm of his chair. The smile was my reward. Like a pat on the head to Jasper. Good dog then, lie down, don't worry me any more. I was Jasper again. I was back where I had been before. I took apiece of crumpet and divided it between the two dogs. I did not want it myself, I was not hungry. I felt very weary now, very tired in a dull, spent way. I looked at Maxim but he was reading his paper, he had folded it over to another page. My fingers were messy with the butter from the crumpet, and I felt in my pocket for a handkerchief. I drew it out, a tiny scrap of a thing, lace-edged. I stared at it, frowning, for it was not mine. I remembered then that Frith had picked it up from the stone floor of the hall. It must have fallen out of the pocket in the mackintosh. I turned it over in my hand. It was grubby; little bits of fluff from the pocket clung to it. It must have been in the mackintosh pocket for a long time. There was a monogram in the corner. A tall sloping R, with the letters de W interlaced. The R dwarfed the other letters, the tail of it ran down into the cambric, away from the laced edge. It was only a small handkerchief, quite a scrap of a thing.

It had been rolled in a ball and put away in the pocket and forgotten. I must have been the first person to put on that mackintosh since the handkerchief was used. She who had worn the coat then was tall, slim, broader than me about the shoulders, for I had found it big and overlong, and the sleeves had come below my wrist. Some of the buttons were missing. She had not bothered then to do it up. She had thrown it over her shoulders like a cape, or worn it loose, hanging open, her hands deep in the pockets. There was a pink mark upon the handkerchief. The mark of lipstick. She had rubbed her lips with the handkerchief, and then rolled it in a ball, and left it in the pocket. I wiped my fingers with the handkerchief, and as I did so I noticed that a dull scent clung about it still. A scent I recognized, a scent I knew. I shut my eyes and tried to remember. It was something elusive, something faint and fragrant that I could not name. I had breathed it before, touched it surely, that very afternoon. And then I knew that the vanished scent upon the handkerchief was the same as the crushed white petals of the azaleas in the Happy Valley.



[FONT=宋体]第11章

足足一个星期,天气阴冷,霪雨连绵。初夏季节,这种天气在西部农村是常有的。我们没有再到海滩去过。但是从平台和草坪往外眺望,我仍能看见大海。翻腾的巨浪扫过海岬处的灯塔,汹涌冲进海湾;大海一片昏黑,使人望而生畏。我想象着浪潮如何撞上海湾里的礁石,发出轰然巨响,接着又急骤浩荡地涌往倾斜的海滩。站在平台上,我能听到下边大海的吼声,低沉又忧郁,单调地持续着,一刻不停。因为天气的缘故,海鸥也都飞进陆地来了,它们衷唳着在屋子上空盘旋,拍打着展开的翅膀。直到这时我才开始明白,为什么有些人受不了大海的喧哗,这声音听上去有时候确实悲枪,时而隆隆,进而嘶嘶,不住地住你耳鼓里送,使你的神经受不住。我庆幸我俩住在东厢,从窗子一探头就可以看到玫瑰园。有时候晚上睡不着,我就从床上起来,蹑手蹑脚走过去倚着窗框,享受夜的安宁与寂静。在这儿听不到骚动不已的大海的吵闹,因此我的心境才得以安静,才能不去想那条穿林而过通往褐色小海湾的陡峭幽径,还有那座海滩弃屋。我实在不愿想起那座小屋,可是在白天这办不到。站在平台上一望见大海,我就老是想起它:瓷器上蓝色的霉斑;船艇模型桅杆上的蜘蛛网;坐卧两用沙发上鼠咬的破洞;雨点拍打屋顶的声音。我还想起那个名叫贝恩的陌生人,想起他那水汪汪的蓝色小眼睛和那种白痴般的诡秘怪笑。所有这些扰得我无法平静,不得安生。我想设法忘却这一切;与此同时,我又想弄个明白,是什么原因使得我如此惴惴不安,烦恼重重。尽管我拒不承认,但是在我的心底某处确实已有一种暗自好奇的心理,一种疑惧的种子,在缓慢而又是一刻不停地滋长。一个小孩在被告知“这些事谈论不得,不能让你知道”之后所产生的疑问,以及想打听个究竟的急切心情,我全体验到了。

我忘不了那天走在林中小径上迈克西姆惶恐和茫然若有所失的眼神,还有他那句话:“啊,上帝,我多蠢,干吗要回来?”都是我不好,偏要朝海湾跑,这就又勾起了他对往事的回忆。虽然迈克西姆后来又恢复了常态,虽然我们共桌进餐,同床安寝,携手散步,比肩伏案写信,一起驾车到村子去,每时每刻形影不离,可我总感觉到因为那天的事,我俩之间已有了隔阂。

他像是独自走在大路的另一侧,我可不得越雷池一步地向他靠拢。我老是神经紧张,生怕自己一时大意说漏了嘴,或是在随便的交谈中不当心话锋一转,又会使他露出那种眼神。我怕提到大海,因为说到大海就会使人联想到船只,联想到海难事故,联想到淹死人……有一天,弗兰克-克劳利来吃中饭。他谈起离此三英里地的克里斯港举行划船比赛,甚至这样的谈话也把我吓得像是害了热病,心里如刀扎似地难受,赶快低下头盯着面前的菜盘。可是迈克西姆好像并不在乎,照样谈笑风生。只有我在一旁提心吊胆,浑身直冒汗,不知道这番谈话又会引起什么不愉快的事情。

我记得当时大家正在吃干酪。弗里思刚走开,所以我就站起身,到墙边的餐具柜再去取来一些干酪。这之所以这样做,并不是因为干酪吃光了,而是因为我不想坐在桌旁听他们说话。我一边走,一边哼着小调,这样就可以听不见他们谈话的内容。当然,我的担心毫无道理,甚至有点愚蠢。这种反常的过敏是精神病患者行为的特征,同我平时开朗的性格毫无共同之处。可这完全是情不自禁的,不这样又叫我怎么办?

另外,每当有客来访,我就更加受罪,表现得益发手足无措,呆头呆脑。在返回曼陀丽的头几周里,我记得,本郡左近的邻人络绎来访。接待这些宾客,握手寒暄,无话找话打发这礼尚往来的半点钟——这一切竟比我原先想象的更折磨人,因为现在又增添了一层新的疑虑,生怕这些人会说出一些不该说的话来。一听见车道上有车轮滑行的声音,接着是撕裂耳鼓的门铃,我就心慌意乱地忙着往自己房间里躲。这一切真叫人受罪!躲进房间以后,我手忙脚乱地往鼻子上搽些脂粉,匆匆梳几下头发,接着总是一阵叩门声,仆人送上放在银托盘里的来客名片。

“好,我这就下来。”于是,楼梯上和大厅里响起我啪嗒啪嗒的脚步声。拉开藏书室的门(有时候情况更糟糕,客人被领到那阴冷而无生气的大客厅),里面是一位陌生女宾,也许是两位,或是一对夫妇。

“您好!真对不住,迈克西姆在花园里,弗里思已找他去了。”

“我们觉得应该来拜访二位,向新娘表示敬意。”

应景的一笑,慌乱的几句应酬话,然后宾主就再也找不到话说,只好自我解困地环顾一下屋子。

“曼陀丽还是这般迷人,您爱这地方吗?”

“喔,当然,我挺……”由于腼腆怯生,同时又想讨好这些客人,我不禁又用上平素不用的女学生的语言,什么“啊,挺帅的”,“喔,妙极”,“没说的”,“真来劲儿”等等,都会脱口而出。我记得有一次,竟对着一位手持长柄眼镜的王公未亡人喊出了“呱呱叫”!迈克西姆进屋以后,虽说可以让我松一口气,但同时又使我胆颤心惊,生伯客人无忌讳地说出一些不该说的话。因此,我马上就变成个哑巴,手揣在怀里,唇边挂着尴尬僵化的微笑。客人们一见这阵势,总是转身去跟迈克西姆聊天,谈论那些我一无所知的人物和地方,还不时向我投来大惑不解的疑问的目光。

我想象得出客人坐车离开曼陀丽时的对话:“亲爱的,多么平庸乏味的一个女人!她差不多没有开口说话。”接着便是我头一回从比阿特丽斯嘴里听到的那句话:“她跟自蓓卡多么不一样!”打那次以后,这句话老是缠着我,在每位来客的眼光和言谈中,我仿佛都看到这几个字:“她跟吕蓓卡多么不一样!”

有时候,在这类谈话中我能够搜集到一些零星的材料,以充实内心的秘密仓库。所谓零星的材料,无非是交谈过程中随口漏出的一个词,一个问题,一个短语。要是迈克西姆不在场,听到这类片言只语,我会因为在暗地里窃得一些情况而偷偷觉着一种带痛楚的乐趣。

有时,也许还得对客人进行回拜。在这类事情上,迈克西姆刻板拘泥,不肯放过我。要是他不跟我同行,我就得豁出去,独自去应付这种正式场面。我得搜索枯肠,无话找话,因此宾主之间常出现冷场。每逢这种时候,主人就问:“德温特夫人,你们有没有在曼陀丽经常接待宾客的打算?”我则回答:“我不知道。到目前为止,迈克西姆还没说起过。”“那当然,季节还没到。我记得早先曼陀丽经常是宾客盈门的。”稍稍一顿之后,此人又接着说:“您知道,都是从伦敦下来的客人。那时候经常举行规模很大的宴会。”我只好回答:“是的,我听说过。”又是稍稍一顿,接着说话人压低了嗓门(人们在谈到死者或是在教堂里说话时都这样):“您知道,她非常之得人心,多出众的人物!”“是的,一点不错。”过了一会,我看看被手套遮没的表,说道:“四点多了吧?恐怕我得告辞了。”

“不喝了茶去吗?我家总在四点一刻进午茶”

“不啦,不啦。非常感谢。我出来时跟迈克西姆说好的……”这句话拖长着声音不说完,意思则大家心照不宣。就这样,宾主同时站起身,双方都很清楚对方的告别托辞或挽留表示全是客套虚礼。有时候我也想,要是我把礼仪俗套统统抛到九霄云外,会出现什么样的局面?在坐进汽车并向站在门口台阶上的女主人挥过手之后,突然打开车门说:“我实在并不急着回去。走,再到您家客厅里去坐坐,要是您觉得可以,我吃了晚饭再走,或者干脆就在这儿过夜。”

我常想礼俗以及外乡人讲究的举止风度,能否使主人忍受我上述举动给他们带来的震惊,他们冷冰冰的脸上会不会堆起表示欢迎的假笑:“干吗不呢?你主动提出留下,我真不胜荣幸。”我常想,要是自己有勇气这么试验一次,那才有趣哩。但是实际上,进了汽车,总是砰地一声关上门,接着,汽车慢慢驶过平滑的砂砾面车道,我方才拜会的女主人则懒洋洋走回房去,如释重负地叹了一口气,又恢复了她原来的样子。

邻县设有教堂,那里的主教夫人曾对我说:“您丈夫是否有意重新举办曼陀丽的化装舞会?每次舞会都搞得有声有色,我一辈子也忘不了。”

我只得装出深知此类舞会中奥妙的样子,微微一笑,回答说:“我们还没拿定主意,要做的事情,要商量的问题实在太多。”

“是啊,您一定够忙的。不过我希望你们别取消化装舞会的惯例。您跟他说说嘛。去年当然没举行,可我记得两年前的那一次,我同主教一起去参加,那场面委实动人。在曼陀丽这地方开这样的舞会,真是再合适没有。大厅装饰得五彩缤纷,舞会就在那儿举行。乐队在往廊里演奏。一切都安排得十分得体。举办这么一次舞会肯定得花很大力气去筹备,可是客人都皆大欢喜而归。”

“是的,”我说。“好吧,我一定问问迈克西姆。”

这时,我想起展室那张写字桌上贴着标签的鸽笼式文件架;我想象着她坐在写字桌旁,面前是大叠大叠的请柬,一长串的客人名单和住址。她打算邀请什么人,就在这人的名字旁打一个钩形符号。然后,她伸手取过请柬,把笔伸进墨水瓶一蘸,用那修长的斜体字飞快地、毫不犹豫地在请束上书写着……

主教夫人又说:“有一年夏天,我们还去参加过一次游园会,跟往常一样,场面壮观,美不胜收。我记得那是一个阳光明媚的日子,花儿盛开,客人就在玫瑰园里围坐在一张一张小桌旁进茶点。这主意真绝,换了别人才想不出呢。当然,她聪明过人……”

主教夫人突然打住,微微涨红了脸,担心自己说话不够审慎。为避免双方受窘,我马上接着她的话头表示同意,鼓起勇气,厚着脸皮说:“吕蓓卡-准是个了不起的人物。”

我简直不相信自己终于如吐骨鲠般说出了她的名字。我等着,不知道会出现何种后果。我把这个名字,把“吕蓓卡”三个字终于说出口了,这使我大大松了口气。我仿佛经历了一场洗礼,解除了一种无法忍受的痛苦。“吕蓓卡”,我把她的名字说出口了!

不知道主教夫人有没有看到我脸上的红晕,不管怎么说,反正她还是照样谈笑自如。我在一旁贪婪地洗耳恭听,就像藏在一扇关闭的窗户底下偷听一样。

主教夫人问我:“这么说来,您从未见过她?”我摇摇头。

她沉吟片刻,显得有点为难,不知道该怎么往下说。“我们同她并不熟悉。您知道。我丈夫四年前才在这儿就职。不过尽管这样,当我们去参加舞会和游园会时,她当然还是以礼相待。有一年冬天,我们还去吃过一顿饭。是啊,她真是个尤物,充满奕奕活力。”

我一边翻弄着手套上的流苏,一边用漫不经心的语调若无其事地说:“看来她样样事情都在行,这样聪明漂亮同时又爱娱乐的人可不多见。”

“是啊,是不多见,”主教夫人说。“她的确有才华。此刻我还能回想起舞会那天晚上她的模样:一头乌黑的长发衬着雪白的肌肤,站在楼梯跟前同每一位来客握手。她的化装舞服非常合身。是的,她确实是个出众的美人。”

“她还亲自管家呢,”我微笑着说,仿佛向对方表示:“我一点没有什么不自在,我常跟人谈起她。”接着我又说:“为此,她肯定要花去不少时间和心血,我可是把这些统统交给管家去料理。”

“喔,当然啦,一个人不可能样样都行。您还很年轻,是吗?毫无疑问,过一段时间,等您在这儿住惯了,您也能管起来的。另外,您不是有自己的爱好吗?听人说,您爱写生素描。”

“啊,那个吗?”我说,“简直算不了什么。”

“这可是挺不错的一点本事哩。不是每个人都会画画的。您可别把它丢了,曼陀丽定有不少供您写生的美景。”

“是的,您说得不错,”我说。听了主教夫人的话,我顿时变得灰溜溜的,眼前突然出现了一幅图景:我带着一张帆布折凳,慢腾腾走过草坪,一边的腋下挟一盒铅笔,另一边挟着主教夫人所说的表示“一点本事”的画本儿。“一点本事”,这听上去多不值钱!简直是种不健康的癖好。

“您爱玩哪种游戏?爱骑马,还是射击?”主教夫人又问。

“不,这些我都不行。”接着,我竟又可怜巴巴地补上一句:“不过,我很喜欢散步。”与骑马、射击等相比,这是何其微不足道!

可是主教夫人立即很自然地接上去说:“这是世上最好的运动。主教和我也常散步。”听她这么一说,我就想象主教是不是戴着教会高增的那种铲子形怪帽,系着绑腿套,臂上吊着这位太太,沿着他的大教堂来回转圈子。接着,她又说起他们夫妇俩好些年以前曾在彭奈恩山区徒步旅行,度过假期,还说当时他们俩一天平均要走二十英里。我不住点头,脸上挂着彬彬有礼的微笑,一边则在猜想这彭奈恩到底是什么地方,大概跟南美洲的安第斯山脉差不多吧。后来我才想起学生时代的地图册上有这个名词,好像是在涂着浅红色的英格兰的中部,画着一条毛茸茸的地带,表示这是一支山脉,这就是彭东思。而这位主教大人一定还是戴着他的铲形帽,系着绑腿套。

谈话至此,便又是无可避免的冷场。客厅的钟当当敲了四下,我便完全多余地看看手表,站起来告辞:“我真高兴您在家;希望二位有空来玩。”

“太好啦,不过,主教他老是那么忙。请向您丈夫问好,别忘了一定请他再把曼陀丽的舞会办起来呵。”

“好,我一定跟他说。”我假装自己对这种舞会全盘了解的样子,再次说了假话。

回家的路上,我蜷缩在汽车的角落里,一边啃啮大拇指的指甲,一边恩象舞会的景象:曼陀丽的大厅里挤满穿化装舞眼的来宾,到处是熙攘的客人,一屋子人声笑语;乐队在柱廊里演奏;晚上也许在客厅里排宴,沿墙排着供宾客自取饭菜的长条餐桌;迈克西姆站在楼梯跟前,笑着同众人握手,不时转身向着并肩的伴侣,此人修长苗条,一头黑发——主教夫人说过,一头黑发衬着白的脸蛋——此人眼观四方,所有客人的需求她都能照顾到;她回过头去,对仆役发号施令;此人的举止优雅大方,从不尴尬失措;而当她翩然起舞时,空气中就滞留着一股白杜鹃似的浓香……

“德温特夫人,你们有没有在曼陀丽经常招待宾客的打算?”我的耳畔又响起那位我曾拜访过的住在克里斯那头的夫人的声音,话音充满挑动性,大有打破砂锅问到底的味道。我还想起这位夫人暖昧的眼神,从头到脚打量着我的服饰,同时又用那种人们看新娘时惯用的目光,飞快朝我腹部一瞥,看我是不是怀孕了。

我不愿再见到这个女人,我真不想再见到所有这些宝货。他们到曼陀丽来仅仅是出干好奇,并因为他们喜欢窥探别人的隐私;他们想对我的相貌、举止、身材作一番评论,还想看看迈克西姆与我关系如何,两人是否相爱。这样,待他们回到家,就有闲话的谈资了:“唉,真叫今非昔比。”他们所以来访,是因为想把我与吕蓓卡作一番比较……

我打定主意,从今以后不再对任何人作回拜。我要向迈克西姆讲明这一点。这些人是否会因此说我粗鲁失礼,我一概不在乎。当然,这么一来,供他们评头品足,飞短流长的资料就更多了,他们会说我没有教养:“哼,我早料到,她毕竟是个无名之辈!”接着便是一声冷笑,还轻蔑地一耸肩膀接着又说:“亲爱的,你不知道吗?他是在蒙特卡洛或是别的什么地方偶然把她弄上手的。当时她身无分文,给一个老太婆当女跟班。”又是冷笑,人们竖眉瞪眼表示惊讶。“胡说八道,真的吗?唉,男人都这么怪,特别像迈克西姆这样的人,平时多么挑剔哪,继吕蓓卡之后,他怎么会娶这样一个女人?”

我可一点儿不在乎,他们爱怎么说就由他们怎么说去。

汽车驶进大门时,我在座椅上坐直身子,向住在门房的那个女人微笑示意。她正门前园子里弯身摘花,听到车子的声音,忙直起身来。可是她没看见我在向她微笑。我朝她挥挥手,她却一无表情地瞪眼望着我,大概并不认识我。我只得又缩回到车厢的角落里。

汽车驶上车道,在一个狭转弯处,我看见有一个男子在我们前面不远步行,这是总管事弗兰克-克劳利。听到汽车的声音,他马上站定,司机也把车速放慢了。弗兰克-克劳利见到坐在车里的是我,就除下帽子,微微一笑,看来见到我他是很高兴的。我同样报以微笑。他真好,见到我居然露出愉快的神情。我喜欢这个人,我可不像比阿特丽斯那样,觉得他平庸无趣,这是因为我自己也是一个平庸的角色,我们两人无独有偶,都不善词令,这就叫做;物以类聚。

我敲敲车窗,叫司机停车;“让我下去,我跟克劳利先生一起步行回去。”

克劳利替我打开车门,问道:“作客去了吗,德温特夫人?”

“是的,弗兰克。”我学着迈克西姆的样,叫他弗兰克,可他总是称呼我德温特夫人。他就是那种类型的人,即使我们两人被扔在一座孤岛上,在那儿朝夕相处度过自己的余生,我总还是德温特夫人。

“我去拜访主教,他出去了,只有夫人在家。这一对夫妇喜欢散步,有时候,夫妇俩每天步行二十英里,那是在彭奈思山区。”

弗兰克-克劳利说:“我不熟悉那一带地方,听说山区周围的农村很美,我有个叔叔曾住在那里。”真是标准的弗兰克-克劳利式的谈话:平淡无奇,刻板规矩,万无一失!

“主教夫人想知道,我们什么再在曼陀丽举行化装舞会,”我一边说一边从眼角膘着他。“她说,她参加了上一次的舞会,愉快极了。弗兰克,我可不知道这么一回事哩。”

他显得有些为难,迟疑半晌才回答:“嗯,不错。”又过了片刻他才说:“曼陀丽的舞会通常是一年一度,郡里的名人都来参加,还有好些从伦敦来的客人,是个大场面……

“那一定得花好大力气筹备吧,”我说。

“是的。”

我故意装出漫不经心的样子问道:“大部分筹备工作大概都是吕蓓卡做的吧?”

我笔直望着前面的车道,可我感到他转过脸来看着我,像是想从我的表情中看出一些什么端倪。

他平静地回答道:“我们大家都花不少力气的。”

他说话的时候带着一种古怪的保留态度,他那种怯生生的样子使我想到自己的窘态,同时我又不知道这个人是否曾受上过吕蓓卡。要是的确发生过这种事,那么换了我,也一定会用他此刻这种语调说话。这个念头引出许多新的猜测。羞怯而又平庸的弗兰克,他要是爱上吕蓓卡,那是决不会向任何人,特别是吕蓓卡本人吐露衷情的。

“要是开跳舞会,我这个人恐怕一点都帮不上忙,”我说。“我根本没有安排社交场面的能力。”

“不用您费心,您只消保持平时的本色,就相当漂亮了。”

“弗兰克,承蒙你好心这么说。可是我恐怕连这一点也做不到。”

“我看,您一定能做得很好。”

亲爱的弗兰克-克劳利,多么机智,多么体贴!我差不多要相信他的话了,可马上又想到他是在恭维我。

我问他:“你问问迈克西姆好吗?是否有意开一次舞会?”

“为什么您不亲自问他呢?”他答道。

“不,我不愿问。”

一时,两人都不说话,沿着车道默默朝前走去。我已经打破不愿说出吕蓓卡名字的顾虑,起初是当着主教夫人的面,现在又当着弗兰克-克劳利的面。这么一来,心底竟有一种不停地老想说这三个字的冲动,念叨着吕蓓卡的名字,给我一种异样的满足,这三个字对我犹如一帖兴奋剂。我觉得过不了几分钟,我就得一说她的名字。

“前几天我到海滩去,”我说。“就是靠近防波堤那儿的海滩。杰斯珀真叫人讨厌,它冲着一个可怜虫不停地吠叫,那个人长着一对白痴般的眼睛。”

“您说的一定是贝恩,”这时弗兰克的声音已变得很自然。“他老是在海边游荡。不过这是个好人,您不必怕他,他连一只苍蝇都不会伤害的。”

“啊,我可一点不害怕。”我顿了一顿,哼哼小调来增添一点自信心。“我怕海边那座小屋要烂坏了。”我装得轻描淡写。“那天我进屋去是想找根绳子或是别的什么东西去缚住杰斯珀。屋里的瓷器都发了霉,那些书也已残破不堪,为什么不去处理一下呢?我看怪可惜的。”

我猜想他不会立刻口答,果然,他俯身去结鞋带。

我也佯装着端详灌木丛上的一片叶子。弗兰克一边拾掇自己的鞋子,一边说:“要是迈克西姆有意处理那屋子,我想他会对我说的。”

我问道:“那些都是吕蓓卡的东西吗?”

“是的,”他说。

我扔掉那片叶子,又随手捡起一片,放在手掌中翻来复去玩弄。

“她用那小屋做什么?”我问,“屋子里家具齐全。开始时,从外形看,我还以为是船库呢!”

“起初那小屋确是座船库,”他说,声音又变得很不自然,说话费劲儿的那种样子说明这个话题弄得他很不自在。“后来,呃,后来嘛,她把屋子改装成现在这个样子,摆了家具,还有瓷器。”

我觉得他老是把吕蓓卡称作“她”很有点反常,我原以为他会直呼“吕蓓卡”其名,或是把她称作“德温特夫人”。

“她常用那小屋吗?”我又问。

“是的,她经常用那小屋。什么月下野餐啦,还有,呃,总是那一类的活动呗。”

这时,我们又并肩走着,我还是哼着小调。“多有趣啊,”我装出愉快的样子说。“月下野餐,你也去参加吗?”

“我参加过一两回,”他回答道。他的神态变得十分沉静;他显然极不愿意谈论这些事情。对这一切,我存心视而不见。

“在那小海湾里干吗设着一只浮筒呢?”

“过去拴船用的。”

“什么船?”

“她的船。”

我突然觉得一阵莫名其妙的冲动。我非得这样继续盘问不可。我知道,他不想谈这些。尽管我为他感到难受。同时觉得自己这样做实在不像话,可就是不能自制,我实在无法住嘴。

“她的船后来怎么啦?”我说。“是不是就是后来出事的船?”

“是的,”他不动声色地说。“船翻了,接着就沉没,她被海水冲出船舱。”

“这艘船多大?”

“载重量约莫三吨,船上有一个小舱房。”

“那怎么会翻呢?”

“海湾里有时也会起风浪。”

我想象着黛绿色的大海,吐着泡沫,形成一道道水流,冲过海岬。是突然起的风吗?也许风从山顶的灯塔处像穿过漏斗般地猛吹下来?那小艇是顶着风颤抖着倾侧的吗?白色的船帆也许正对着起风暴的海洋

“难道没有人能去抢救吗?”我说。

“谁也没看见船出事,没人知道她出海去了。”

我小心翼翼,故意不朝他看,而他倒可能看到我脸上惊奇的神色,因为我一直以为事故发生在一次驾艇比赛中,周围有许多船只,都是从克里斯来参加比赛的,还有不少站在山崖上观看比赛的人。我根本不知道她当时独自在海湾里。

“那么宅子里的人肯定知道罗?”我问。

“不,她常常这样独个儿出海,爱什么时候回来,就什么时候回来,夜里宿在海滩小屋。”

“她倒一点不害怕?”

“害怕?”他说。“不,她什么都不怕。”

“那么,呃,迈克西姆也不管吗?让她这样独自出去?”

他顿了片刻,然后就简短地说了一句“我不知道。”我有一种感觉,他似乎忠心地守着什么人的秘密,是为迈克西姆?还是为吕蓓卡?要不,甚至可能是他本人的秘密?这个人很古怪,我实在弄不大懂是怎么一回事情。

“这么说来,她一定是在船沉之后,想往岸边游近时淹死的?”我说。

“是的。”

我能想象那小艇如何颤抖着沉入大海,海水如何涌进驾驶室。海上突然起了可怕的大风,帆把船压得沉了下去。海湾里肯定是一片漆黑,对于一个在水里拼命划游的人来说,海岸一定是非常遥远的。

“那么,过了多久才发现她的尸体呢?”

“大概有两个月之久。”

两个月!我原以为淹死的人过两天就会被人发现,一俟涨潮,他们的尸体就会被冲到近岸处。

“她的尸体是在哪里发现的?”我问。

“埃奇库姆比附近,离此地约四十英里的海峡里,”他说。

我七岁那年,曾在埃奇库姆比度假。那是座大城市,有一个码头,到处是驴子,我还记得自己在沙滩上骑驴的情景。

“人们怎么知道死者就是她?过了两个月还能辨认?”

我不明白为什么他每次回答我的问题,总要字斟句酌地沉吟一会儿。难道他对这个女人有特殊的感情,难道这事情对他创痛至深?

“是迈克西姆到埃奇库姆比去认尸的,”他说。

突然,我什么也不想问了,只觉得自己无聊可鄙。我活像个看热闹的闲人,站在人群外围,听说有人被击倒在地,就好奇心大发。我觉得自己又像住在廉价公寓里的穷房客,公寓里死了人就跑去问能不能让我看看尸体。我恨自己。我提的这些问题真是有失身分,寡廉鲜耻。弗兰克-克劳利一定觉得我这人低贱极了。

于是,我赶快说:“对你们大家说来,那段日子确实不好过。我知道你不愿重提往事;我只不过问问能不能处理一下那海滩小屋,就是这么回事。看着家具潮湿霉烂,挺可惜。”

他什么也没说。我只觉得浑身闷热得难受。他肯定已经意识到我之所以提这么一大堆问题决不是因为关心那座弃屋,而他此刻的沉默则说明他对我的举止感到震惊。两人之间本来已建立了某种令人舒心的牢固的友谊,我曾感到此人是个好帮手,也许,这一切都已被我亲手摧毁,他对我的印象不会再同以前一样了。

“这车道真长,”我说。“老是使我联想起格林童话里王子迷路的密林小径。你总以为就要走到头,其实不然。两旁又长着这样密集的黑压压的树木。”

“不错,车道确实不大平常,”他说。

从他的神态可以看出他仍在留心提防,准备对付我进一步的盘问。谁都能一眼看透,两人的关系变得非常僵。得想个办法挽回一下才好,为此丢尽面子,我也在所不惜。

“弗兰克,”我豁出去了。“我知道这会儿你在想什么。你自然不可能理解我刚才为什么提那么一大堆问题。你以为我秉性反常,刨根问底,一点不顾及别人的感情。实话对你说,不是那么一回事。其中的道理,嗯,说到其中道理,那只不过是因为我有时总不免觉得自己处境不利。曼陀丽的生活对我既新奇又陌生,我过去所受的教养对此不能适应。每当我像今天下午这样去回拜陌生人时,我总意识到别人上下打量不止的目光,同时他们又满腹狐疑,不知道我对于自己的新生活能适应到何种程度。我可以想象这些人在背地里说,‘迈克西姆到底看中她哪一点?’而接下去,弗兰克,我自己也糊涂了,开始怀疑。有一种可怕的念头老缠着我,使我觉得我压根儿不该嫁给迈克西姆,我和他两人是不会幸福的。你知道,每次见生人,我无时无刻不意识到他们全在心里转着同样的念头——她跟吕蓓卡多么不一样!”

我突兀地收住话头,说得上气不接下气,同时却为自己这一阵子发作而感到羞愧。我觉得,把事情和盘托出之后,现在再也没有退路了。

他转过脸来,神情十分关切,同时又好像心事重重。

“德温特夫人,请不要这么想,”他说。“就我而论,您同迈克西姆结婚,我说不上来心里有多高兴。他的生活因此而整个变了样。我敢肯定,您完全能适应新的生活。从我的角度说,这——这既新鲜又可喜,遇上像您这样的人,您这样并不完全——嗯,”他红了脸,想找个适当的字眼,“我们不妨说,对于曼陀丽的这一套并不完全anfait①的人。倘若这儿附近的人给您印象不佳,似乎都在对您评头品足,那是——嗯——那是他们这些人放肆地冒犯了您,仅此而已。我可没听到过一句微词,如果我听见有谁说坏话,我一定亲自于预,决不让这人再信口雌黄。”——

①法语,意指“了如指掌”。

“你真好,弗兰克,”我说。“你这一席话真给我鼓了劲。我明白自己是个没用的笨人,待人接物都不懂,因为以前从来不必在这方面下工夫。我老是猜想曼陀丽在过去大概是什么样子的。那时的女主人无论出身和教养都同这座庄园相配,做什么事情都是驾轻就熟;我每时每刻总意识到自己的缺陷正是她的长处——自信、仪态、美貌、才识、机智——啊,反正对女人说来最重要的素质全有了!想到这些,叫人丧气,弗兰克,真叫人灰心丧气。”

他没作声,仍然愁眉苦脸,心事重重。他掏出手帕擤鼻子,过后才说:“你不能这么讲。”

“为什么不能?都是事实,”我说。

“您所拥有的素质同样重要,甚至比那些重要得多。我这么说也许有点冒失无礼,我毕竟不太了解您。我是个单身汉,对于女人知之不多。您也知道,我在这儿过着多少有点闭塞的生活,可我还是要说:心地善良,待人诚挚,还有,如果你不见怪,谦逊端庄,这些对于男子,对于一个做丈夫的来说,比之世上所有的机智和美貌,价值大得多。”

他看上去内心甚不平静,又擤了一次鼻子。我发现,我挑起了这场谈话纵然使自己难过,但在很大程度上他比我更加不安。认识到这一点之后,我倒反而安静下来,享受到了某种优越感。我不明白,他为什么如此小题大做,毕竟,我又没多罗唆什么,只不过说了像我这样继吕蓓卡之后来到曼陀丽的人有种不安全感。另外,他刚才说到我身上的一些所谓长处,这些素质她一定也有;她肯定是个善良而诚挚的人,不然哪来那么多的朋友?哪会有口皆碑?至于谦逊端庄,我拿不准他指的是什么。这个词儿的确义我始终没能弄明白,我总以为,这个词或多或少就是指走在通往浴室的过道里生怕碰到人……可怜的弗兰克,而比阿特丽斯还曾把他称为无聊人物,说他一辈子说不出一句带个性的话。

“呃,”我尴尬地说,“呃,你说的这些我都不大懂。我并不觉得自己心地善良,待人也不怎么特别真诚;至于谦逊端庄,从小到大我一直处在这样的地位,不得不如此。不过,在蒙特卡洛先是单身借住旅馆,接着匆匆结婚,自然不能算太端庄吧。也许你不计较这些?”

“亲爱的德温特夫人,难道您不明白,我从来不以为你们俩在南方邂逅有任何不能端上桌面的地方?”他低声说。

“哦,我当然不会这么想,”我严肃地说。可爱的弗兰克,看来我真把他吓坏了。“端上桌面,”之么典型的弗兰克式语言。一听到这个词,你马上就会想到桌子底下暗中发生的事。

“我敢肯定,”他开了个头又踌躇起来,仍是一副心神不定的样子。“我敢肯定,倘若迈克西姆了解您的心情,他会犯愁的,还会非常痛苦。大概什么都没觉察到。”

“你不会告诉他吧?”我忙不迭地说。

“不会,当然不会。您把我当什么人了?不过,您得明白,德温特夫人,我很了解迈克西姆这个人,亲眼看他经历了许多……不同的心境。如果他觉得您在为——嗯——为往事伤神,那将是他活在世上最大的痛苦。我说这话有十分的把握。眼下,他气色正好,看上去十分健康。不过莱西夫人那天的话不假,去年,他差一点就要神经失常,当然莱西夫人当着他的面这么说有些失策。所以,对他说来您是何其重要。您年轻,生气勃勃,呃,又明白事理,您与往昔的生活没有一丝瓜葛。忘了吧,德温特夫人,把过去忘掉。感谢老天,他可已经把一切忘了,这儿的其他人也是这样。对我们中的任何人说来,往事都是不堪回首的,对迈克西姆尤其如此。而您知道,能不能引着大家从往昔的羁缚中挣脱出来,全靠您啦。别再把大家推到昔日去吧。”

他是对的,当然,他完全对。可爱的弗兰克好人,我的朋友,我的帮手。我太自私,神经过敏,一味沉溺在自卑感里不能自拔。“我真应该早就跟你这样谈一次,”我说。

“我也这么想,”他说。“那样,我可能会帮您摆脱些烦恼。”

“这会儿我才觉得好受些,”我说。“好受多了。今后不管发生什么事,你总是我的朋友,对吗,弗兰克克?”

“当然对的,”他说。

我们走出黑林子,车道豁然开朗,迎面出现了石南花。石南的季节行将过去,所以花朵已多少过了全盛期,开始褪色凋败。到了下个月,花瓣将从浓艳的花盘上纷纷坠地,园丁就会跑来打扫。石南的美是短暂的,决不能永远驻颜。

“弗兰克,”我说,“但愿我们永远不再谈这个话题,可在谈话结束之前,你能不能如实回答我一个问题?”

他狐疑地看着我,好一会儿才说:“这个要求不太合理。也许您提的问题我无从回答,或者完全答不上来。”

“不,”我说,“不是什么怪问题。决不涉及个人的私生活或类似的方面。”

“那好,我尽力而为,”他说。

我们已拐弯走上车道的开阔地段,曼陀丽座落在草坪环绕的低地上,静谧而安详。每次见到这大宅,我总是为其完美的对称和气派,为其朴实无华而惊诧。

阳光在竖框窗上闪耀。围绕着爬满地衣的石墙,有一种色彩柔和的古色古香的光华。一缕青烟从藏书室烟囱袅袅飘起。我咬着拇指指甲,用眼相打量着弗兰克。“告诉我,”我用若无其事的声调说着,什么顾虑也没有了。“告诉我,吕蓓卡非常美吗?”

弗兰克沉吟半晌,我没法看见他的睑,因为这时他已转过身去面对着宅子。“不错,”他慢条斯理地说。“不错,依我说,她是我有生以来见过的最美的女人。”

然后,我们走上台阶,来到大厅;我按铃让仆人送上茶点[/FONT]
 
最后编辑: 2017-03-22
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第11章

足足一个星期,天气阴冷,霪雨连绵。初夏季节,这种天气在西部农村是常有的。我们没有再到海滩去过。但是从平台和草坪往外眺望,我仍能看见大海。翻腾的巨浪扫过海岬处的灯塔,汹涌冲进海湾;大海一片昏黑,使人望而生畏。我想象着浪潮如何撞上海湾里的礁石,发出轰然巨响,接着又急骤浩荡地涌往倾斜的海滩。站在平台上,我能听到下边大海的吼声,低沉又忧郁,单调地持续着,一刻不停。因为天气的缘故,海鸥也都飞进陆地来了,它们衷唳着在屋子上空盘旋,拍打着展开的翅膀。直到这时我才开始明白,为什么有些人受不了大海的喧哗,这声音听上去有时候确实悲枪,时而隆隆,进而嘶嘶,不住地住你耳鼓里送,使你的神经受不住。我庆幸我俩住在东厢,从窗子一探头就可以看到玫瑰园。有时候晚上睡不着,我就从床上起来,蹑手蹑脚走过去倚着窗框,享受夜的安宁与寂静。在这儿听不到骚动不已的大海的吵闹,因此我的心境才得以安静,才能不去想那条穿林而过通往褐色小海湾的陡峭幽径,还有那座海滩弃屋。我实在不愿想起那座小屋,可是在白天这办不到。站在平台上一望见大海,我就老是想起它:瓷器上蓝色的霉斑;船艇模型桅杆上的蜘蛛网;坐卧两用沙发上鼠咬的破洞;雨点拍打屋顶的声音。我还想起那个名叫贝恩的陌生人,想起他那水汪汪的蓝色小眼睛和那种白痴般的诡秘怪笑。所有这些扰得我无法平静,不得安生。我想设法忘却这一切;与此同时,我又想弄个明白,是什么原因使得我如此惴惴不安,烦恼重重。尽管我拒不承认,但是在我的心底某处确实已有一种暗自好奇的心理,一种疑惧的种子,在缓慢而又是一刻不停地滋长。一个小孩在被告知“这些事谈论不得,不能让你知道”之后所产生的疑问,以及想打听个究竟的急切心情,我全体验到了。

我忘不了那天走在林中小径上迈克西姆惶恐和茫然若有所失的眼神,还有他那句话:“啊,上帝,我多蠢,干吗要回来?”都是我不好,偏要朝海湾跑,这就又勾起了他对往事的回忆。虽然迈克西姆后来又恢复了常态,虽然我们共桌进餐,同床安寝,携手散步,比肩伏案写信,一起驾车到村子去,每时每刻形影不离,可我总感觉到因为那天的事,我俩之间已有了隔阂。

他像是独自走在大路的另一侧,我可不得越雷池一步地向他靠拢。我老是神经紧张,生怕自己一时大意说漏了嘴,或是在随便的交谈中不当心话锋一转,又会使他露出那种眼神。我怕提到大海,因为说到大海就会使人联想到船只,联想到海难事故,联想到淹死人……有一天,弗兰克-克劳利来吃中饭。他谈起离此三英里地的克里斯港举行划船比赛,甚至这样的谈话也把我吓得像是害了热病,心里如刀扎似地难受,赶快低下头盯着面前的菜盘。可是迈克西姆好像并不在乎,照样谈笑风生。只有我在一旁提心吊胆,浑身直冒汗,不知道这番谈话又会引起什么不愉快的事情。

我记得当时大家正在吃干酪。弗里思刚走开,所以我就站起身,到墙边的餐具柜再去取来一些干酪。这之所以这样做,并不是因为干酪吃光了,而是因为我不想坐在桌旁听他们说话。我一边走,一边哼着小调,这样就可以听不见他们谈话的内容。当然,我的担心毫无道理,甚至有点愚蠢。这种反常的过敏是精神病患者行为的特征,同我平时开朗的性格毫无共同之处。可这完全是情不自禁的,不这样又叫我怎么办?

另外,每当有客来访,我就更加受罪,表现得益发手足无措,呆头呆脑。在返回曼陀丽的头几周里,我记得,本郡左近的邻人络绎来访。接待这些宾客,握手寒暄,无话找话打发这礼尚往来的半点钟——这一切竟比我原先想象的更折磨人,因为现在又增添了一层新的疑虑,生怕这些人会说出一些不该说的话来。一听见车道上有车轮滑行的声音,接着是撕裂耳鼓的门铃,我就心慌意乱地忙着往自己房间里躲。这一切真叫人受罪!躲进房间以后,我手忙脚乱地往鼻子上搽些脂粉,匆匆梳几下头发,接着总是一阵叩门声,仆人送上放在银托盘里的来客名片。

“好,我这就下来。”于是,楼梯上和大厅里响起我啪嗒啪嗒的脚步声。拉开藏书室的门(有时候情况更糟糕,客人被领到那阴冷而无生气的大客厅),里面是一位陌生女宾,也许是两位,或是一对夫妇。

“您好!真对不住,迈克西姆在花园里,弗里思已找他去了。”

“我们觉得应该来拜访二位,向新娘表示敬意。”

应景的一笑,慌乱的几句应酬话,然后宾主就再也找不到话说,只好自我解困地环顾一下屋子。

“曼陀丽还是这般迷人,您爱这地方吗?”

“喔,当然,我挺……”由于腼腆怯生,同时又想讨好这些客人,我不禁又用上平素不用的女学生的语言,什么“啊,挺帅的”,“喔,妙极”,“没说的”,“真来劲儿”等等,都会脱口而出。我记得有一次,竟对着一位手持长柄眼镜的王公未亡人喊出了“呱呱叫”!迈克西姆进屋以后,虽说可以让我松一口气,但同时又使我胆颤心惊,生伯客人无忌讳地说出一些不该说的话。因此,我马上就变成个哑巴,手揣在怀里,唇边挂着尴尬僵化的微笑。客人们一见这阵势,总是转身去跟迈克西姆聊天,谈论那些我一无所知的人物和地方,还不时向我投来大惑不解的疑问的目光。

我想象得出客人坐车离开曼陀丽时的对话:“亲爱的,多么平庸乏味的一个女人!她差不多没有开口说话。”接着便是我头一回从比阿特丽斯嘴里听到的那句话:“她跟自蓓卡多么不一样!”打那次以后,这句话老是缠着我,在每位来客的眼光和言谈中,我仿佛都看到这几个字:“她跟吕蓓卡多么不一样!”

有时候,在这类谈话中我能够搜集到一些零星的材料,以充实内心的秘密仓库。所谓零星的材料,无非是交谈过程中随口漏出的一个词,一个问题,一个短语。要是迈克西姆不在场,听到这类片言只语,我会因为在暗地里窃得一些情况而偷偷觉着一种带痛楚的乐趣。

有时,也许还得对客人进行回拜。在这类事情上,迈克西姆刻板拘泥,不肯放过我。要是他不跟我同行,我就得豁出去,独自去应付这种正式场面。我得搜索枯肠,无话找话,因此宾主之间常出现冷场。每逢这种时候,主人就问:“德温特夫人,你们有没有在曼陀丽经常接待宾客的打算?”我则回答:“我不知道。到目前为止,迈克西姆还没说起过。”“那当然,季节还没到。我记得早先曼陀丽经常是宾客盈门的。”稍稍一顿之后,此人又接着说:“您知道,都是从伦敦下来的客人。那时候经常举行规模很大的宴会。”我只好回答:“是的,我听说过。”又是稍稍一顿,接着说话人压低了嗓门(人们在谈到死者或是在教堂里说话时都这样):“您知道,她非常之得人心,多出众的人物!”“是的,一点不错。”过了一会,我看看被手套遮没的表,说道:“四点多了吧?恐怕我得告辞了。”

“不喝了茶去吗?我家总在四点一刻进午茶”

“不啦,不啦。非常感谢。我出来时跟迈克西姆说好的……”这句话拖长着声音不说完,意思则大家心照不宣。就这样,宾主同时站起身,双方都很清楚对方的告别托辞或挽留表示全是客套虚礼。有时候我也想,要是我把礼仪俗套统统抛到九霄云外,会出现什么样的局面?在坐进汽车并向站在门口台阶上的女主人挥过手之后,突然打开车门说:“我实在并不急着回去。走,再到您家客厅里去坐坐,要是您觉得可以,我吃了晚饭再走,或者干脆就在这儿过夜。”

我常想礼俗以及外乡人讲究的举止风度,能否使主人忍受我上述举动给他们带来的震惊,他们冷冰冰的脸上会不会堆起表示欢迎的假笑:“干吗不呢?你主动提出留下,我真不胜荣幸。”我常想,要是自己有勇气这么试验一次,那才有趣哩。但是实际上,进了汽车,总是砰地一声关上门,接着,汽车慢慢驶过平滑的砂砾面车道,我方才拜会的女主人则懒洋洋走回房去,如释重负地叹了一口气,又恢复了她原来的样子。

邻县设有教堂,那里的主教夫人曾对我说:“您丈夫是否有意重新举办曼陀丽的化装舞会?每次舞会都搞得有声有色,我一辈子也忘不了。”

我只得装出深知此类舞会中奥妙的样子,微微一笑,回答说:“我们还没拿定主意,要做的事情,要商量的问题实在太多。”

“是啊,您一定够忙的。不过我希望你们别取消化装舞会的惯例。您跟他说说嘛。去年当然没举行,可我记得两年前的那一次,我同主教一起去参加,那场面委实动人。在曼陀丽这地方开这样的舞会,真是再合适没有。大厅装饰得五彩缤纷,舞会就在那儿举行。乐队在往廊里演奏。一切都安排得十分得体。举办这么一次舞会肯定得花很大力气去筹备,可是客人都皆大欢喜而归。”

“是的,”我说。“好吧,我一定问问迈克西姆。”

这时,我想起展室那张写字桌上贴着标签的鸽笼式文件架;我想象着她坐在写字桌旁,面前是大叠大叠的请柬,一长串的客人名单和住址。她打算邀请什么人,就在这人的名字旁打一个钩形符号。然后,她伸手取过请柬,把笔伸进墨水瓶一蘸,用那修长的斜体字飞快地、毫不犹豫地在请束上书写着……

主教夫人又说:“有一年夏天,我们还去参加过一次游园会,跟往常一样,场面壮观,美不胜收。我记得那是一个阳光明媚的日子,花儿盛开,客人就在玫瑰园里围坐在一张一张小桌旁进茶点。这主意真绝,换了别人才想不出呢。当然,她聪明过人……”

主教夫人突然打住,微微涨红了脸,担心自己说话不够审慎。为避免双方受窘,我马上接着她的话头表示同意,鼓起勇气,厚着脸皮说:“吕蓓卡-准是个了不起的人物。”

我简直不相信自己终于如吐骨鲠般说出了她的名字。我等着,不知道会出现何种后果。我把这个名字,把“吕蓓卡”三个字终于说出口了,这使我大大松了口气。我仿佛经历了一场洗礼,解除了一种无法忍受的痛苦。“吕蓓卡”,我把她的名字说出口了!

不知道主教夫人有没有看到我脸上的红晕,不管怎么说,反正她还是照样谈笑自如。我在一旁贪婪地洗耳恭听,就像藏在一扇关闭的窗户底下偷听一样。

主教夫人问我:“这么说来,您从未见过她?”我摇摇头。

她沉吟片刻,显得有点为难,不知道该怎么往下说。“我们同她并不熟悉。您知道。我丈夫四年前才在这儿就职。不过尽管这样,当我们去参加舞会和游园会时,她当然还是以礼相待。有一年冬天,我们还去吃过一顿饭。是啊,她真是个尤物,充满奕奕活力。”

我一边翻弄着手套上的流苏,一边用漫不经心的语调若无其事地说:“看来她样样事情都在行,这样聪明漂亮同时又爱娱乐的人可不多见。”

“是啊,是不多见,”主教夫人说。“她的确有才华。此刻我还能回想起舞会那天晚上她的模样:一头乌黑的长发衬着雪白的肌肤,站在楼梯跟前同每一位来客握手。她的化装舞服非常合身。是的,她确实是个出众的美人。”

“她还亲自管家呢,”我微笑着说,仿佛向对方表示:“我一点没有什么不自在,我常跟人谈起她。”接着我又说:“为此,她肯定要花去不少时间和心血,我可是把这些统统交给管家去料理。”

“喔,当然啦,一个人不可能样样都行。您还很年轻,是吗?毫无疑问,过一段时间,等您在这儿住惯了,您也能管起来的。另外,您不是有自己的爱好吗?听人说,您爱写生素描。”

“啊,那个吗?”我说,“简直算不了什么。”

“这可是挺不错的一点本事哩。不是每个人都会画画的。您可别把它丢了,曼陀丽定有不少供您写生的美景。”

“是的,您说得不错,”我说。听了主教夫人的话,我顿时变得灰溜溜的,眼前突然出现了一幅图景:我带着一张帆布折凳,慢腾腾走过草坪,一边的腋下挟一盒铅笔,另一边挟着主教夫人所说的表示“一点本事”的画本儿。“一点本事”,这听上去多不值钱!简直是种不健康的癖好。

“您爱玩哪种游戏?爱骑马,还是射击?”主教夫人又问。

“不,这些我都不行。”接着,我竟又可怜巴巴地补上一句:“不过,我很喜欢散步。”与骑马、射击等相比,这是何其微不足道!

可是主教夫人立即很自然地接上去说:“这是世上最好的运动。主教和我也常散步。”听她这么一说,我就想象主教是不是戴着教会高增的那种铲子形怪帽,系着绑腿套,臂上吊着这位太太,沿着他的大教堂来回转圈子。接着,她又说起他们夫妇俩好些年以前曾在彭奈恩山区徒步旅行,度过假期,还说当时他们俩一天平均要走二十英里。我不住点头,脸上挂着彬彬有礼的微笑,一边则在猜想这彭奈恩到底是什么地方,大概跟南美洲的安第斯山脉差不多吧。后来我才想起学生时代的地图册上有这个名词,好像是在涂着浅红色的英格兰的中部,画着一条毛茸茸的地带,表示这是一支山脉,这就是彭东思。而这位主教大人一定还是戴着他的铲形帽,系着绑腿套。

谈话至此,便又是无可避免的冷场。客厅的钟当当敲了四下,我便完全多余地看看手表,站起来告辞:“我真高兴您在家;希望二位有空来玩。”

“太好啦,不过,主教他老是那么忙。请向您丈夫问好,别忘了一定请他再把曼陀丽的舞会办起来呵。”

“好,我一定跟他说。”我假装自己对这种舞会全盘了解的样子,再次说了假话。

回家的路上,我蜷缩在汽车的角落里,一边啃啮大拇指的指甲,一边恩象舞会的景象:曼陀丽的大厅里挤满穿化装舞眼的来宾,到处是熙攘的客人,一屋子人声笑语;乐队在柱廊里演奏;晚上也许在客厅里排宴,沿墙排着供宾客自取饭菜的长条餐桌;迈克西姆站在楼梯跟前,笑着同众人握手,不时转身向着并肩的伴侣,此人修长苗条,一头黑发——主教夫人说过,一头黑发衬着白的脸蛋——此人眼观四方,所有客人的需求她都能照顾到;她回过头去,对仆役发号施令;此人的举止优雅大方,从不尴尬失措;而当她翩然起舞时,空气中就滞留着一股白杜鹃似的浓香……

“德温特夫人,你们有没有在曼陀丽经常招待宾客的打算?”我的耳畔又响起那位我曾拜访过的住在克里斯那头的夫人的声音,话音充满挑动性,大有打破砂锅问到底的味道。我还想起这位夫人暖昧的眼神,从头到脚打量着我的服饰,同时又用那种人们看新娘时惯用的目光,飞快朝我腹部一瞥,看我是不是怀孕了。

我不愿再见到这个女人,我真不想再见到所有这些宝货。他们到曼陀丽来仅仅是出干好奇,并因为他们喜欢窥探别人的隐私;他们想对我的相貌、举止、身材作一番评论,还想看看迈克西姆与我关系如何,两人是否相爱。这样,待他们回到家,就有闲话的谈资了:“唉,真叫今非昔比。”他们所以来访,是因为想把我与吕蓓卡作一番比较……

我打定主意,从今以后不再对任何人作回拜。我要向迈克西姆讲明这一点。这些人是否会因此说我粗鲁失礼,我一概不在乎。当然,这么一来,供他们评头品足,飞短流长的资料就更多了,他们会说我没有教养:“哼,我早料到,她毕竟是个无名之辈!”接着便是一声冷笑,还轻蔑地一耸肩膀接着又说:“亲爱的,你不知道吗?他是在蒙特卡洛或是别的什么地方偶然把她弄上手的。当时她身无分文,给一个老太婆当女跟班。”又是冷笑,人们竖眉瞪眼表示惊讶。“胡说八道,真的吗?唉,男人都这么怪,特别像迈克西姆这样的人,平时多么挑剔哪,继吕蓓卡之后,他怎么会娶这样一个女人?”

我可一点儿不在乎,他们爱怎么说就由他们怎么说去。

汽车驶进大门时,我在座椅上坐直身子,向住在门房的那个女人微笑示意。她正门前园子里弯身摘花,听到车子的声音,忙直起身来。可是她没看见我在向她微笑。我朝她挥挥手,她却一无表情地瞪眼望着我,大概并不认识我。我只得又缩回到车厢的角落里。

汽车驶上车道,在一个狭转弯处,我看见有一个男子在我们前面不远步行,这是总管事弗兰克-克劳利。听到汽车的声音,他马上站定,司机也把车速放慢了。弗兰克-克劳利见到坐在车里的是我,就除下帽子,微微一笑,看来见到我他是很高兴的。我同样报以微笑。他真好,见到我居然露出愉快的神情。我喜欢这个人,我可不像比阿特丽斯那样,觉得他平庸无趣,这是因为我自己也是一个平庸的角色,我们两人无独有偶,都不善词令,这就叫做;物以类聚。

我敲敲车窗,叫司机停车;“让我下去,我跟克劳利先生一起步行回去。”

克劳利替我打开车门,问道:“作客去了吗,德温特夫人?”

“是的,弗兰克。”我学着迈克西姆的样,叫他弗兰克,可他总是称呼我德温特夫人。他就是那种类型的人,即使我们两人被扔在一座孤岛上,在那儿朝夕相处度过自己的余生,我总还是德温特夫人。

“我去拜访主教,他出去了,只有夫人在家。这一对夫妇喜欢散步,有时候,夫妇俩每天步行二十英里,那是在彭奈思山区。”

弗兰克-克劳利说:“我不熟悉那一带地方,听说山区周围的农村很美,我有个叔叔曾住在那里。”真是标准的弗兰克-克劳利式的谈话:平淡无奇,刻板规矩,万无一失!

“主教夫人想知道,我们什么再在曼陀丽举行化装舞会,”我一边说一边从眼角膘着他。“她说,她参加了上一次的舞会,愉快极了。弗兰克,我可不知道这么一回事哩。”

他显得有些为难,迟疑半晌才回答:“嗯,不错。”又过了片刻他才说:“曼陀丽的舞会通常是一年一度,郡里的名人都来参加,还有好些从伦敦来的客人,是个大场面……

“那一定得花好大力气筹备吧,”我说。

“是的。”

我故意装出漫不经心的样子问道:“大部分筹备工作大概都是吕蓓卡做的吧?”

我笔直望着前面的车道,可我感到他转过脸来看着我,像是想从我的表情中看出一些什么端倪。

他平静地回答道:“我们大家都花不少力气的。”

他说话的时候带着一种古怪的保留态度,他那种怯生生的样子使我想到自己的窘态,同时我又不知道这个人是否曾受上过吕蓓卡。要是的确发生过这种事,那么换了我,也一定会用他此刻这种语调说话。这个念头引出许多新的猜测。羞怯而又平庸的弗兰克,他要是爱上吕蓓卡,那是决不会向任何人,特别是吕蓓卡本人吐露衷情的。

“要是开跳舞会,我这个人恐怕一点都帮不上忙,”我说。“我根本没有安排社交场面的能力。”

“不用您费心,您只消保持平时的本色,就相当漂亮了。”

“弗兰克,承蒙你好心这么说。可是我恐怕连这一点也做不到。”

“我看,您一定能做得很好。”

亲爱的弗兰克-克劳利,多么机智,多么体贴!我差不多要相信他的话了,可马上又想到他是在恭维我。

我问他:“你问问迈克西姆好吗?是否有意开一次舞会?”

“为什么您不亲自问他呢?”他答道。

“不,我不愿问。”

一时,两人都不说话,沿着车道默默朝前走去。我已经打破不愿说出吕蓓卡名字的顾虑,起初是当着主教夫人的面,现在又当着弗兰克-克劳利的面。这么一来,心底竟有一种不停地老想说这三个字的冲动,念叨着吕蓓卡的名字,给我一种异样的满足,这三个字对我犹如一帖兴奋剂。我觉得过不了几分钟,我就得一说她的名字。

“前几天我到海滩去,”我说。“就是靠近防波堤那儿的海滩。杰斯珀真叫人讨厌,它冲着一个可怜虫不停地吠叫,那个人长着一对白痴般的眼睛。”

“您说的一定是贝恩,”这时弗兰克的声音已变得很自然。“他老是在海边游荡。不过这是个好人,您不必怕他,他连一只苍蝇都不会伤害的。”

“啊,我可一点不害怕。”我顿了一顿,哼哼小调来增添一点自信心。“我怕海边那座小屋要烂坏了。”我装得轻描淡写。“那天我进屋去是想找根绳子或是别的什么东西去缚住杰斯珀。屋里的瓷器都发了霉,那些书也已残破不堪,为什么不去处理一下呢?我看怪可惜的。”

我猜想他不会立刻口答,果然,他俯身去结鞋带。

我也佯装着端详灌木丛上的一片叶子。弗兰克一边拾掇自己的鞋子,一边说:“要是迈克西姆有意处理那屋子,我想他会对我说的。”

我问道:“那些都是吕蓓卡的东西吗?”

“是的,”他说。

我扔掉那片叶子,又随手捡起一片,放在手掌中翻来复去玩弄。

“她用那小屋做什么?”我问,“屋子里家具齐全。开始时,从外形看,我还以为是船库呢!”

“起初那小屋确是座船库,”他说,声音又变得很不自然,说话费劲儿的那种样子说明这个话题弄得他很不自在。“后来,呃,后来嘛,她把屋子改装成现在这个样子,摆了家具,还有瓷器。”

我觉得他老是把吕蓓卡称作“她”很有点反常,我原以为他会直呼“吕蓓卡”其名,或是把她称作“德温特夫人”。

“她常用那小屋吗?”我又问。

“是的,她经常用那小屋。什么月下野餐啦,还有,呃,总是那一类的活动呗。”

这时,我们又并肩走着,我还是哼着小调。“多有趣啊,”我装出愉快的样子说。“月下野餐,你也去参加吗?”

“我参加过一两回,”他回答道。他的神态变得十分沉静;他显然极不愿意谈论这些事情。对这一切,我存心视而不见。

“在那小海湾里干吗设着一只浮筒呢?”

“过去拴船用的。”

“什么船?”

“她的船。”

我突然觉得一阵莫名其妙的冲动。我非得这样继续盘问不可。我知道,他不想谈这些。尽管我为他感到难受。同时觉得自己这样做实在不像话,可就是不能自制,我实在无法住嘴。

“她的船后来怎么啦?”我说。“是不是就是后来出事的船?”

“是的,”他不动声色地说。“船翻了,接着就沉没,她被海水冲出船舱。”

“这艘船多大?”

“载重量约莫三吨,船上有一个小舱房。”

“那怎么会翻呢?”

“海湾里有时也会起风浪。”

我想象着黛绿色的大海,吐着泡沫,形成一道道水流,冲过海岬。是突然起的风吗?也许风从山顶的灯塔处像穿过漏斗般地猛吹下来?那小艇是顶着风颤抖着倾侧的吗?白色的船帆也许正对着起风暴的海洋

“难道没有人能去抢救吗?”我说。

“谁也没看见船出事,没人知道她出海去了。”

我小心翼翼,故意不朝他看,而他倒可能看到我脸上惊奇的神色,因为我一直以为事故发生在一次驾艇比赛中,周围有许多船只,都是从克里斯来参加比赛的,还有不少站在山崖上观看比赛的人。我根本不知道她当时独自在海湾里。

“那么宅子里的人肯定知道罗?”我问。

“不,她常常这样独个儿出海,爱什么时候回来,就什么时候回来,夜里宿在海滩小屋。”

“她倒一点不害怕?”

“害怕?”他说。“不,她什么都不怕。”

“那么,呃,迈克西姆也不管吗?让她这样独自出去?”

他顿了片刻,然后就简短地说了一句“我不知道。”我有一种感觉,他似乎忠心地守着什么人的秘密,是为迈克西姆?还是为吕蓓卡?要不,甚至可能是他本人的秘密?这个人很古怪,我实在弄不大懂是怎么一回事情。

“这么说来,她一定是在船沉之后,想往岸边游近时淹死的?”我说。

“是的。”

我能想象那小艇如何颤抖着沉入大海,海水如何涌进驾驶室。海上突然起了可怕的大风,帆把船压得沉了下去。海湾里肯定是一片漆黑,对于一个在水里拼命划游的人来说,海岸一定是非常遥远的。

“那么,过了多久才发现她的尸体呢?”

“大概有两个月之久。”

两个月!我原以为淹死的人过两天就会被人发现,一俟涨潮,他们的尸体就会被冲到近岸处。

“她的尸体是在哪里发现的?”我问。

“埃奇库姆比附近,离此地约四十英里的海峡里,”他说。

我七岁那年,曾在埃奇库姆比度假。那是座大城市,有一个码头,到处是驴子,我还记得自己在沙滩上骑驴的情景。

“人们怎么知道死者就是她?过了两个月还能辨认?”

我不明白为什么他每次回答我的问题,总要字斟句酌地沉吟一会儿。难道他对这个女人有特殊的感情,难道这事情对他创痛至深?

“是迈克西姆到埃奇库姆比去认尸的,”他说。

突然,我什么也不想问了,只觉得自己无聊可鄙。我活像个看热闹的闲人,站在人群外围,听说有人被击倒在地,就好奇心大发。我觉得自己又像住在廉价公寓里的穷房客,公寓里死了人就跑去问能不能让我看看尸体。我恨自己。我提的这些问题真是有失身分,寡廉鲜耻。弗兰克-克劳利一定觉得我这人低贱极了。

于是,我赶快说:“对你们大家说来,那段日子确实不好过。我知道你不愿重提往事;我只不过问问能不能处理一下那海滩小屋,就是这么回事。看着家具潮湿霉烂,挺可惜。”

他什么也没说。我只觉得浑身闷热得难受。他肯定已经意识到我之所以提这么一大堆问题决不是因为关心那座弃屋,而他此刻的沉默则说明他对我的举止感到震惊。两人之间本来已建立了某种令人舒心的牢固的友谊,我曾感到此人是个好帮手,也许,这一切都已被我亲手摧毁,他对我的印象不会再同以前一样了。

“这车道真长,”我说。“老是使我联想起格林童话里王子迷路的密林小径。你总以为就要走到头,其实不然。两旁又长着这样密集的黑压压的树木。”

“不错,车道确实不大平常,”他说。

从他的神态可以看出他仍在留心提防,准备对付我进一步的盘问。谁都能一眼看透,两人的关系变得非常僵。得想个办法挽回一下才好,为此丢尽面子,我也在所不惜。

“弗兰克,”我豁出去了。“我知道这会儿你在想什么。你自然不可能理解我刚才为什么提那么一大堆问题。你以为我秉性反常,刨根问底,一点不顾及别人的感情。实话对你说,不是那么一回事。其中的道理,嗯,说到其中道理,那只不过是因为我有时总不免觉得自己处境不利。曼陀丽的生活对我既新奇又陌生,我过去所受的教养对此不能适应。每当我像今天下午这样去回拜陌生人时,我总意识到别人上下打量不止的目光,同时他们又满腹狐疑,不知道我对于自己的新生活能适应到何种程度。我可以想象这些人在背地里说,‘迈克西姆到底看中她哪一点?’而接下去,弗兰克,我自己也糊涂了,开始怀疑。有一种可怕的念头老缠着我,使我觉得我压根儿不该嫁给迈克西姆,我和他两人是不会幸福的。你知道,每次见生人,我无时无刻不意识到他们全在心里转着同样的念头——她跟吕蓓卡多么不一样!”

我突兀地收住话头,说得上气不接下气,同时却为自己这一阵子发作而感到羞愧。我觉得,把事情和盘托出之后,现在再也没有退路了。

他转过脸来,神情十分关切,同时又好像心事重重。

“德温特夫人,请不要这么想,”他说。“就我而论,您同迈克西姆结婚,我说不上来心里有多高兴。他的生活因此而整个变了样。我敢肯定,您完全能适应新的生活。从我的角度说,这——这既新鲜又可喜,遇上像您这样的人,您这样并不完全——嗯,”他红了脸,想找个适当的字眼,“我们不妨说,对于曼陀丽的这一套并不完全anfait①的人。倘若这儿附近的人给您印象不佳,似乎都在对您评头品足,那是——嗯——那是他们这些人放肆地冒犯了您,仅此而已。我可没听到过一句微词,如果我听见有谁说坏话,我一定亲自于预,决不让这人再信口雌黄。”——

①法语,意指“了如指掌”。

“你真好,弗兰克,”我说。“你这一席话真给我鼓了劲。我明白自己是个没用的笨人,待人接物都不懂,因为以前从来不必在这方面下工夫。我老是猜想曼陀丽在过去大概是什么样子的。那时的女主人无论出身和教养都同这座庄园相配,做什么事情都是驾轻就熟;我每时每刻总意识到自己的缺陷正是她的长处——自信、仪态、美貌、才识、机智——啊,反正对女人说来最重要的素质全有了!想到这些,叫人丧气,弗兰克,真叫人灰心丧气。”

他没作声,仍然愁眉苦脸,心事重重。他掏出手帕擤鼻子,过后才说:“你不能这么讲。”

“为什么不能?都是事实,”我说。

“您所拥有的素质同样重要,甚至比那些重要得多。我这么说也许有点冒失无礼,我毕竟不太了解您。我是个单身汉,对于女人知之不多。您也知道,我在这儿过着多少有点闭塞的生活,可我还是要说:心地善良,待人诚挚,还有,如果你不见怪,谦逊端庄,这些对于男子,对于一个做丈夫的来说,比之世上所有的机智和美貌,价值大得多。”

他看上去内心甚不平静,又擤了一次鼻子。我发现,我挑起了这场谈话纵然使自己难过,但在很大程度上他比我更加不安。认识到这一点之后,我倒反而安静下来,享受到了某种优越感。我不明白,他为什么如此小题大做,毕竟,我又没多罗唆什么,只不过说了像我这样继吕蓓卡之后来到曼陀丽的人有种不安全感。另外,他刚才说到我身上的一些所谓长处,这些素质她一定也有;她肯定是个善良而诚挚的人,不然哪来那么多的朋友?哪会有口皆碑?至于谦逊端庄,我拿不准他指的是什么。这个词儿的确义我始终没能弄明白,我总以为,这个词或多或少就是指走在通往浴室的过道里生怕碰到人……可怜的弗兰克,而比阿特丽斯还曾把他称为无聊人物,说他一辈子说不出一句带个性的话。

“呃,”我尴尬地说,“呃,你说的这些我都不大懂。我并不觉得自己心地善良,待人也不怎么特别真诚;至于谦逊端庄,从小到大我一直处在这样的地位,不得不如此。不过,在蒙特卡洛先是单身借住旅馆,接着匆匆结婚,自然不能算太端庄吧。也许你不计较这些?”

“亲爱的德温特夫人,难道您不明白,我从来不以为你们俩在南方邂逅有任何不能端上桌面的地方?”他低声说。

“哦,我当然不会这么想,”我严肃地说。可爱的弗兰克,看来我真把他吓坏了。“端上桌面,”之么典型的弗兰克式语言。一听到这个词,你马上就会想到桌子底下暗中发生的事。

“我敢肯定,”他开了个头又踌躇起来,仍是一副心神不定的样子。“我敢肯定,倘若迈克西姆了解您的心情,他会犯愁的,还会非常痛苦。大概什么都没觉察到。”

“你不会告诉他吧?”我忙不迭地说。

“不会,当然不会。您把我当什么人了?不过,您得明白,德温特夫人,我很了解迈克西姆这个人,亲眼看他经历了许多……不同的心境。如果他觉得您在为——嗯——为往事伤神,那将是他活在世上最大的痛苦。我说这话有十分的把握。眼下,他气色正好,看上去十分健康。不过莱西夫人那天的话不假,去年,他差一点就要神经失常,当然莱西夫人当着他的面这么说有些失策。所以,对他说来您是何其重要。您年轻,生气勃勃,呃,又明白事理,您与往昔的生活没有一丝瓜葛。忘了吧,德温特夫人,把过去忘掉。感谢老天,他可已经把一切忘了,这儿的其他人也是这样。对我们中的任何人说来,往事都是不堪回首的,对迈克西姆尤其如此。而您知道,能不能引着大家从往昔的羁缚中挣脱出来,全靠您啦。别再把大家推到昔日去吧。”

他是对的,当然,他完全对。可爱的弗兰克好人,我的朋友,我的帮手。我太自私,神经过敏,一味沉溺在自卑感里不能自拔。“我真应该早就跟你这样谈一次,”我说。

“我也这么想,”他说。“那样,我可能会帮您摆脱些烦恼。”

“这会儿我才觉得好受些,”我说。“好受多了。今后不管发生什么事,你总是我的朋友,对吗,弗兰克克?”

“当然对的,”他说。

我们走出黑林子,车道豁然开朗,迎面出现了石南花。石南的季节行将过去,所以花朵已多少过了全盛期,开始褪色凋败。到了下个月,花瓣将从浓艳的花盘上纷纷坠地,园丁就会跑来打扫。石南的美是短暂的,决不能永远驻颜。

“弗兰克,”我说,“但愿我们永远不再谈这个话题,可在谈话结束之前,你能不能如实回答我一个问题?”

他狐疑地看着我,好一会儿才说:“这个要求不太合理。也许您提的问题我无从回答,或者完全答不上来。”

“不,”我说,“不是什么怪问题。决不涉及个人的私生活或类似的方面。”

“那好,我尽力而为,”他说。

我们已拐弯走上车道的开阔地段,曼陀丽座落在草坪环绕的低地上,静谧而安详。每次见到这大宅,我总是为其完美的对称和气派,为其朴实无华而惊诧。

阳光在竖框窗上闪耀。围绕着爬满地衣的石墙,有一种色彩柔和的古色古香的光华。一缕青烟从藏书室烟囱袅袅飘起。我咬着拇指指甲,用眼相打量着弗兰克。“告诉我,”我用若无其事的声调说着,什么顾虑也没有了。“告诉我,吕蓓卡非常美吗?”

弗兰克沉吟半晌,我没法看见他的睑,因为这时他已转过身去面对着宅子。“不错,”他慢条斯理地说。“不错,依我说,她是我有生以来见过的最美的女人。”

然后,我们走上台阶,来到大厅;我按铃让仆人送上茶点


Chapter Eleven

The weather was wet and cold for quite a week, as it often can be in the west country in the early summer, and we did not go down to the beach again. I could see the sea from the terrace, and the lawns. It looked grey and uninviting, great rollers sweeping in to the bay past the beacon on the headland. I pictured them surging into the little cove and breaking with a roar upon the rocks, then running swift and strong to the shelving beach. If I stood on the terrace and listened I could hear the murmur of the sea below me, low and sullen. A dull, persistent sound that never ceased. And the gulls flew inland too, driven by the weather. They hovered above the house in circles, wheeling and crying, flapping their spread wings. I began to understand why some people could not bear the clamour of the sea. It has a mournful harping note sometimes, and the very persistence of it, that eternal roll and thunder and hiss, plays a jagged tune upon the nerves. I was glad our rooms were in the east wing and I could lean out of my window and look down upon the rose-garden. For sometimes I could not sleep, and getting softly out of bed in the quiet night I would wander to the window, and lean there, my arms upon the sill, and the air would be very peaceful, very still. I could not hear the restless sea, and because I could not hear it my thoughts would be peaceful too.

They would not carry me down that steep path through the woods to the grey cove and the deserted cottage. I did not want to think about the cottage. I remembered it too often in the day. The memory of it nagged at me whenever I saw the sea from the terrace. For I would see once more the blue spots on the china, the spun webs on the little masts of those model ships, and the rat holes on the sofa bed. I would remember the pattering of the rain on the roof. And I thought of Ben, too, with his narrow watery blue eyes, his sly idiot's smile. These things disturbed me, I was not happy about them. I wanted to forget them but at the same time I wanted to know why they disturbed me, why they made me uneasy and unhappy. Somewhere, at the back of my mind, there was a frightened furtive seed of curiosity that grew slowly and stealthily, for all my denial of it, and I knew all the doubt and anxiety of the child who has been told, 'these things are not discussed, they are forbidden. ' I could not forget the white, lost look in Maxim's eyes when we came up the path through the woods, and I could not forget his words. 'Oh, God, what a fool I was to come back'. It was all my fault, because I had gone down into the bay. I had opened up a road into the past again. And although Maxim had recovered, and was himself again, and we lived our lives together, sleeping, eating, walking, writing letters, driving to the village, working hour by hour through our day, I knew there was a barrier between us because of it. He walked alone, on the other side, and I must not come to him. And I became nervous and fearful that some heedless word, some turn in a careless conversation should bring that expression back to his eyes again. I began to dread any mention of the sea, for the sea might lead to boats, to accidents, to drowning ... Even Frank Crawley, who came to lunch one day, put me in a little fever of fear when he said something about the sailing races in Kerrith harbour, three miles away. I looked steadily at my plate, a stab of sickness in my heart at once, but Maxim went on talking quite naturally, he did not seem to mind, while I sat in a sweat of uncertainty wondering what would happen and where the conversation would lead us.

It was during cheese, Frith had left the room, and I remember getting up and going to the sideboard, and taking some more cheese, not wanting it, so as not to be at the table with them, listening; humming a little tune to myself so I could not hear. I was wrong of course, morbid, stupid; this was the hypersensitive behaviour of a neurotic, not the normal happy self I knew myself to be. But I could not help it. I did not know what to do. My shyness and gaucherie became worse, too, making me stolid and dumb when people came to the house. For we were called upon, I remember, during those first weeks, by people who lived near us in the county, and the receiving of them, and the shaking hands, and the spinning out of the formal half-hour became a worse ordeal than I first anticipated, because of this new fear of mine that they would talk about something that must not be discussed. The agony of those wheels on the drive, of that pealing bell, of my own first wild rush for flight to my own room. The scrambled dab of powder on my nose, the hasty comb through my hair, and then the inevitable knock on the door and the entrance of the cards on a silver salver. 'All right. I'll be down immediately. ' The clap of my heels on the stairs and across the hall, the opening of the library door or, worse still, that long, cold, lifeless drawing-room, and the strange woman waiting there, or two of them perhaps, or a husband and a wife. 'How do you do? I'm sorry; Maxim is in the garden somewhere, Frith has gone to find him. ' 'We felt we must come and pay our respects to the bride. ' A little laughter, a little flurry of chat, a pause, a glance round the room. 'Manderley is looking as charming as ever. Don't you love it?' 'Oh, yes, rather ... " And in my shyness and anxiety to please, those schoolgirls' phrases would escape from me again, those words I never used except in moments like these, 'Oh, ripping'; and 'Oh, topping'; and 'absolutely'; and 'priceless'; even, I think, to one dowager who had carried a lorgnette 'cheerio'. My relief at Maxim's arrival would be tempered by the fear they might say something indiscreet, and I became dumb at once, a set smile on my lips, my hands in my lap. They would turn to Maxim then, talking of people and places I had not met or did not know, and now and again I would find their eyes upon me, doubtful, rather bewildered. I could picture them saying to one another as they drove away, 'My dear, what a dull girl.
 
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She scarcely opened her mouth', and then the sentence I had first heard upon Beatrice's lips, haunting me ever since, a sentence I read in every eye, on every tongue - 'She's so different from Rebecca. ' Sometimes I would glean little snatches of information to add to my secret store. A word dropped here at random, a question, a passing phrase. And, if Maxim was not with me, the hearing of them would be a furtive, rather painful pleasure, guilty knowledge learnt in the dark. I would return a call perhaps, for Maxim was punctilious in these matters and would not spare me, and if he did not come with me I must brave the formality alone, and there would be a pause in the conversation while I searched for something to say. 'Will you be entertaining much at Manderley, Mrs de Winter?' they would say, and my answer would come, 'I don't know, Maxim has not said much about it up to the present. ' 'No, of course not, it's early yet. I believe the house was generally full of people in the old days. ' Another pause. 'People from London, you know. There used to be tremendous parties. ' 'Yes, ' I would say. 'Yes, so I have heard. ' A further pause, and then the lowered voice that is always used about the dead or in a place of worship, 'She was so tremendously popular, you know. Such a personality. ' 'Yes, ' I would say. 'Yes, of course. ' And after a moment or so I would glance at my watch under cover of my glove, and say, 'I'm afraid I ought to be going; it must be after four. ' 'Won't you stay for tea? We always have it at quarter past. ' 'No - No, really, thanks most awfully. I promised Maxim ... " my sentence would go trailing off into nothing, but the meaning would be understood. We would both rise to our feet, both of us knowing I was not deceived about her offer to tea nor she in my mention of a promise to Maxim. I had sometimes wondered what would happen if convention were denied, if, having got into the car and waved a hand to my hostess on the doorstep, I suddenly opened it again, and said, 'I don't think I'll go back after all. Let's go to your drawing-room again and sit down. I'll stay to dinner if you like, or stop the night. ' I used to wonder if convention and good county manners would brave the surprise, ' and whether a smile of welcome would be summoned to the frozen face, 'But of course! How very delightful of you to suggest it. '

I used to wish I had the courage to try. But instead the door would slam, the car would go bowling away down the smooth gravel drive, and my late hostess would wander back to her room with a sigh of relief and become herself again. It was the wife of the bishop in the neighbouring cathedral town who said to me, 'Will your husband revive the Manderley fancy dress ball, do you suppose? Such a lovely sight always; I shall never forget it. ' I had to smile as though I knew all about it and say, 'We have not decided. There have been so many things to do and to discuss. ' 'Yes, I suppose so. But I do hope it won't be dropped. You must use your influence with him. There was not one last year of course. But I remember two years ago, the bishop and I went, and it was quite enchanting. Manderley so lends itself to anything like that. The hall looked wonderful. They danced there, and had the music in the gallery; it was all so in keeping. A tremendous thing to organize, but everybody appreciated it so. 'Yes, ' I said. 'Yes, I must ask Maxim about it. ' I thought of the docketed pigeon-hole in the desk in the morning-room, I pictured the stack upon stack of invitation cards, the long list of names, the addresses, and I could see a woman sitting there at the desk and putting a V beside the names she wanted, and reaching for the invitation cards, dipping her pen in the ink, writing upon them swift and sure in that long, slanting hand. 'There was a garden party, too, we went to one summer, ' said the bishop's wife. 'Everything always so beautifully done. The flowers at their best. A glorious day, I remember. Tea was served at little tables in the rose-garden; such an attractive original idea. Of course, she was so clever... " She stopped, turning a little pink, fearing a loss of tact; but I agreed with her at once to save embarrassment, and I heard myself saying boldly, brazenly, 'Rebecca must have been a wonderful person. ' I could not believe that I had said the name at last. I waited, wondering what would happen. I had said the name. I had said the word Rebecca aloud. It was a tremendous relief. It was as though I had taken a purge and rid myself of an intolerable pain. Rebecca.

I had said it aloud. I wondered if the bishop's wife saw the flush on my face, but she went on smoothly with the conversation, and I listened to her greedily, like an eavesdropper at a shuttered window. 'You never met her then?' she asked, and when I shook my head she hesitated a moment, a little uncertain of her ground. 'We never knew her well personally, you know: the bishop was only inducted here four years ago, but of course she received us when we went to the ball and the garden party. We dined there, too, one winter. Yes, she was a very lovely creature. So full of life. ' 'She seems to have been so good at everything too, ' I said, my voice just careless enough to show I did not mind, while I played with the fringe of my glove. 'It's not often you get someone who is clever and beautiful and fond of sport. ' 'No, I suppose you don't, ' said the bishop's wife. 'She was certainly very gifted. I can see her now, standing at the foot of the stairs on the night of the ball, shaking hands with everybody, that cloud of dark hair against the very white skin, and her costume suited her so. Yes, she was very beautiful. ' 'She ran the house herself, too, ' I said, smiling, as if to say, 'I am quite at my ease, I often discuss her. ' 'It must have taken a lot of time and thought. I'm afraid I leave it to the housekeeper. ' 'Oh, well, we can't all do everything. And you are very young, aren't you? No doubt in time, when you have settled down. Besides, you have your own hobby, haven't you? Someone told me you were fond of sketching. ' 'Oh, that, ' I said. 'I don't know that I can count it for much. ' 'It's a nice little talent to have, ' said the bishop's wife; 'it's not everyone that can sketch. You must not drop it. Manderley must be full of pretty spots to sketch. ' 'Yes, ' I said. 'Yes, I suppose so, ' depressed by her words, having a sudden vision of myself wandering across the lawns with a camp-stool and a box of pencils under one arm, and my 'little talent' as she described it, under the other. It sounded like a pet disease. 'Do you play any games? Do you ride, or shoot?' she asked. 'No, ' I said, 'I don't do anything like that. I'm fond of walking, ' I added, as a wretched anticlimax. "The best exercise in the world, ' she said briskly; 'the bishop and I walk a lot. ' I wondered if he went round and round the cathedral, in his shovel hat and his gaiters, with her on his arm.


看标题还以为你在读马列原著呢。

德语倒是学过点儿皮毛,但是俄语一窍不通,受你的启发,有机会试读一下马克思原著《 Die deutsche Ideologie 》(德意志意识形态)
Die deutsche Ideologie ist ein Manuskriptkonvolut, das in den Jahren 1845–1846 hauptsächlich von Karl Marx und in Teilen von Friedrich Engels und zeitweilig auch von Moses Hess und Joseph Weydemeyer verfasst, damals aber nur zu einem geringen Teil veröffentlicht wurde.

 
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She began to talk about a walking holiday they had taken once, years ago, in the Pennines, how they had done an average of twenty miles a day, and I nodded my head, smiling politely, wondering about the Pennines, thinking they were something like the Andes, remembering, afterwards, they were that chain of hills marked with a furry line in the middle of a pink England on my school atlas. And he all the time in his hat and gaiters. The inevitable pause, the glance at the watch unnecessary, as her drawing-room clock chimed four in shrill tones, and my rise from the chair. 'I'm so glad I found you in. I hope you will come and see us. ' 'We should love to. The bishop is always so busy, alas. Please remember me to your husband, and be sure to ask him to revive the ball. ' 'Yes, indeed I will. ' Lying, pretending I knew all about it; and in the car going home I sat in my corner, biting my thumb nail, seeing the great hall at Manderley thronged with people in fancy dress, the chatter, hum, and laughter of the moving crowd, the musicians in the gallery, supper in the drawing-room probably, long buffet tables against the wall, and I could see Maxim standing at the front of the stairs, laughing, shaking hands, turning to someone who stood by his side, tall and slim, with dark hair, said the bishop's wife, dark hair against a white face, someone whose quick eyes saw to the comfort of her guests, who gave an order over her shoulder to a servant, someone who was never awkward, never without grace, who when she danced left a stab of perfume in the air like a white azalea. 'Will you be entertaining much at Manderley, Mrs de Winter?' I heard the voice again, suggestive, rather inquisitive, in the voice of that woman I had called upon who lived the other side of Kerrith, and I saw her eye too, dubious, considering, taking in my clothes from top to toe, wondering, with that swift downward glance given to all brides, if I was going to have a baby. I did not want to see her again. I did not want to see any of them again. They only came to call at Manderley because they were curious and prying. They liked to criticize my looks, my manners, my figure, they liked to watch how Maxim and I behaved to each other, whether we seemed fond of one another, so that they could go back afterwards and discuss us, saying, 'Very different from the old days. ' They came because they wanted to compare me to Rebecca... I would not return these calls any more, I decided. I should tell Maxim so. I did not mind if they thought me rude and ungracious. It would give them more to criticize, more to discuss.

They could say I was ill-bred. 'I'm not surprised, ' they would say; 'after all, who was she?' And then a laugh and a shrug of the shoulder. 'My dear, don't you know? He picked her up in Monte Carlo or somewhere; she hadn't a penny. She was a companion to some old woman. ' More laughter, more lifting of the eyebrows. 'Nonsense, not really? How extraordinary men are. Maxim, of all people, who was so fastidious. How could he, after Rebecca?' I did not mind. I did not care. They could say what they liked. As the car turned in at the lodge gates I leant forward in my seat to smile at the woman who lived there. She was bending down, picking flowers in the front garden. She straightened up as she heard the car, but she did not see me smile. I waved, and she stared at me blankly. I don't think she knew who I was. I leant back in my seat again. The car went on down the drive. When we turned at one of the narrow bends I saw a man walking along the drive a little distance ahead. It was the agent, Frank Crawley. He stopped when he heard the car, and the chauffeur slowed down. Frank Crawley took off his hat and smiled when he saw me in the car. He seemed glad to see me. I smiled back at him. It was nice of him to be glad to see me. I liked Frank Crawley. I did not find him dull or uninteresting as Beatrice had done. Perhaps it was because I was dull myself. We were both dull. We neither of us had a word to say for ourselves. Like to like. I tapped on the glass and told the chauffeur to stop. 'I think I'll get out and walk with Mr Crawley, ' I said. He opened the door for me. 'Been paying calls, Mrs de Winter?' he said. 'Yes, Frank, ' I said. I called him Frank because Maxim did, but he would always call me Mrs de Winter. He was that sort of person. Even if we had been thrown on a desert island together and lived there in intimacy for the rest of our lives, I should have been Mrs de Winter. 'I've been calling on the bishop, ' I said, 'and I found the bishop out, but the bishop's lady was at home. She and the bishop are very fond of walking. Sometimes they do twenty miles a day, in the Pennines. ' 'I don't know that part of the world, ' said Frank Crawley; 'they say the country round is very fine. An uncle of mine used to live there. ' It was the sort of remark Frank Crawley always made. Safe, conventional, very correct. "The bishop's wife wants to know when we are going to give a fancy dress ball at Manderley, ' I said, watching him out of the tail of my eye. 'She came to the last one, she said, and enjoyed it very much.

I did not know you have fancy dress dances here, Frank. ' He hesitated a moment before replying. He looked a little troubled. 'Oh, yes, ' he said after a moment, 'the Manderley ball was generally an annual affair. Everyone in the county came. A lot of people from London too. Quite a big show. ' 'It must have taken a lot of organization, ' I said. 'Yes, ' he said. 'I suppose', I said carelessly, 'Rebecca did most of it?' I looked straight ahead of me along the drive, but I could see his face was turned towards me, as though he wished to read my expression. 'We all of us worked pretty hard, ' he said quietly. There was a funny reserve in his manner as he said this, a certain shyness that reminded me of my own. I wondered suddenly if he had been in love with Rebecca. His voice was the sort of voice I should have used in his circumstances, had this been so. The idea opened up a new field of possibilities. Frank Crawley being so shy, so dull, he would never have told anyone, least of all Rebecca. 'I'm afraid I should not be much use if we have a dance, ' I said, 'I'm no earthly use at organizing anything. ' "There would be no need for you to do anything, ' he said, 'you would just be your self and look decorative. ' "That's very polite of you, Frank, ' I said, 'but I'm afraid I should not be able to do that very well either. ' 'I think you would do it excellently, ' he said. Dear Frank Crawley, how tactful he was and considerate. I almost believed him. But he did not deceive me really. 'Will you ask Maxim about the ball?' I said. 'Why don't you ask him?' he answered. 'No, ' I said. 'No, I don't like to. ' We were silent then. We went on walking along the drive. Now that I had broken down my reluctance at saying Rebecca's name, first with the bishop's wife and now with Frank Crawley, the urge to continue was strong within me. It gave me a curious satisfaction, it acted upon me like a stimulant. I knew that in a moment or two I should have to say it again. 'I was down on one of the beaches the other day, ' I said, 'the one with the breakwater. Jasper was being infuriating, he kept barking at the poor man with the idiot's eyes. ' 'You must mean Ben, ' said Frank, his voice quite easy now; 'he always potters about on the shore. He's quite a nice fellow, you need never be frightened of him.
 
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He would not hurt a fly. ' 'Oh, I wasn't frightened, ' I said. I waited a moment, humming a tune to give me confidence. 'I'm afraid that cottage place is going to rack and ruin, ' I said lightly. 'I had to go in, to find a piece of string or something to tie up Jasper. The china is mouldy and the books are being ruined. Why isn't something done about it? It seems such a pity. ' I knew he would not answer at once. He bent down to tie up his shoe lace. I pretended to examine a leaf on one of the shrubs. 'I think if Maxim wanted anything done he would tell me, ' he said, still fumbling with his shoe. 'Are they all Rebecca's things?' I asked. 'Yes, ' he said. I threw the leaf away and picked another, turning it over in my hands. 'What did she use the cottage for?' I asked; 'it looked quite furnished. I thought from the outside it was just a boat-house. ' 'It was a boat-house originally, ' he said, his voice constrained again, difficult, the voice of someone who is uncomfortable about his subject. 'Then - then she converted it like that, had furniture put in, and china. ' I thought it funny the way he called her 'she'. He did not say Rebecca or Mrs de Winter, as I expected him to do. 'Did she use it a great deal?' I asked. 'Yes, ' he said. 'Yes, she did. Moonlight picnics, and - and one thing and another. ' We were walking again side by side, I still humming my little tune. 'How jolly, ' I said brightly. 'Moonlight picnics must be great fun. Did you ever go to them?' 'Once or twice, ' he said. I pretended not to notice his manner, how quiet it had become, how reluctant to speak about these things. 'Why is the buoy there in the little harbour place?' I said. 'The boat used to be moored there, ' he said. 'What boat?' I asked. 'Her boat, ' he said. A strange sort of excitement was upon me. I had to go on with my questions. He did not want to talk about it. I knew that, but although I was sorry for him and shocked at my own self I had to continue, I could not be silent. 'What happened to it?' I said. 'Was that the boat she was sailing when she was drowned?' 'Yes, ' he said quietly, 'it capsized and sank. She was washed overboard. ' 'What sort of size boat was it?' I asked. 'About three tons. It had a little cabin. ' 'What made it capsize?' I said. 'It can be very squally in the bay, ' he said. I thought of that green sea, foam-flecked, that ran down channel beyond the headland. Did the wind come suddenly, I wondered, in a funnel from the beacon on the hill, and did the little boat heel to it, shivering, the white sail fiat against a breaking sea? 'Could not someone have got out to her?' I said. 'Nobody saw the accident, nobody knew she had gone, ' he said.

I was very careful not to look at him. He might have seen the surprise in my face. I had always thought it happened in a sailing race, that other boats were there, the boats from Kerrith, and that people were watching from the cliffs. I did not know she had been alone, quite alone, out there in the bay. "They must have known up at the house!' I said. 'No, ' he said. 'She often went out alone like that. She would come back any time of the night, and sleep at the cottage on the beach. ' 'Was not she nervous?' 'Nervous?' he said; 'no, she was not nervous of anything. ' 'Did - did Maxim mind her going off alone like that?' He waited a minute, and then 'I don't know, ' he said shortly. I had the impression he was being loyal to someone. Either to Maxim or to Rebecca, or perhaps even to himself. He was odd. I did not know what to make of it. 'She must have been drowned, then, trying to swim to shore, after the boat sank?' I said. 'Yes, ' he said. I knew how the little boat would quiver and plunge, the water gushing into the steering well, and how the sails would press her down, suddenly, horribly, in that gust of wind. It must have been very dark out there in the bay. The shore must have seemed very far away to anyone swimming there, in the water. 'How long afterwards was it that they found her?' I said. 'About two months, ' he said. Two months. I thought drowned people were found after two days. I thought they would be washed up close to the shore when the tide came. 'Where did they find her?' I asked. 'Near Edgecoombe, about forty miles up channel, ' he said. I had spent a holiday at Edgecoombe once, when I was seven. It was a big place, with a pier, and donkeys. I remembered riding a donkey along the sands. 'How did they know it was her - after two months, how could they tell?' I said. I wondered why he paused before each sentence, as though he weighed his words. Had he cared for her, then, had he minded so much? 'Maxim went up to Edgecoombe to identify her, ' he said. Suddenly I did not want to ask him any more. I felt sick at myself, sick and disgusted. I was like a curious sightseer standing on the fringe of a crowd after someone had been knocked down. I was like a poor person in a tenement building, when someone had died, asking if I might see the body. I hated myself. My questions had been degrading, shameful. Frank Crawley must despise me. 'It was a terrible time for all of you, ' I said rapidly. 'I don't suppose you like being reminded about it.

I just wondered if there was anything one could do to the cottage, that's all. It seems such a pity, all the furniture being spoilt by the damp. ' He did not say anything. I felt hot and uncomfortable. He must have sensed that it was not concern for the empty cottage that had prompted me to all these questions, and now he was silent because he was shocked at me. Ours had been a comfortable, steady sort of friendship. I had felt him an ally. Perhaps I had destroyed all this, and he would never feel the same about me again. 'What a long drive this is, ' I said; 'it always reminds me of the path in the forest in a Grimm's fairy tale, where the prince gets lost, you know. It's always longer than one expects, and the trees are so dark, and close. ' 'Yes, it is rather exceptional, ' he said. I could tell by his manner he was still on his guard, as though waiting for a further question from me. There was an awkwardness between us that could not be ignored. Something had to be done about it, even if it covered me with shame. 'Frank, ' I said desperately, 'I know what you are thinking. You can't understand why I asked all those questions just now. You think I'm morbid, and curious, in a rather beastly way. It's not that, I promise you. It's only that - that sometimes I feel myself at such a disadvantage. It's all very strange to me, living here at Manderley. Not the sort of life I've been brought up to. When I go returning these calls, as I did this afternoon, I know people are looking me up and down, wondering what sort of success I'm going to make of it. I can imagine them saying, "What on earth does Maxim see in her?" And then, Frank, I begin to wonder myself, and I begin to doubt, and I have a fearful haunting feeling that I should never have married Maxim, that we are not going to be happy. You see, I know that all the time, whenever I meet anyone new, they are all thinking I stopped breathless, already a little ashamed of my outburst, feeling that now at any rate I had burnt my boats for all time. He turned to me looking very concerned and troubled. 'Mrs de Winter, please don't think that, ' he said. 'For my part I can't tell you how delighted I am that you have married Maxim. It will make all the difference to his life. I am positive that you will make a great success of it. From my point of view it's - it's very refreshing and charming to find someone like yourself who is not entirely - er -' he blushed, searching for a word 'not entirely au fait, shall we say, with ways at Manderley.
 
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And if people around here give you the impression that they are criticizing you, it's - well - it's most damnably offensive of them, that's all. I've never heard a word of criticism, and if I did I should take great care that it was never uttered again. ' 'That's very sweet of you, Frank, ' I said, 'and what you say helps enormously. I dare say I've been very stupid. I'm not good at meeting people, I've never had to do it, and all the time I keep remembering how - how it must have been at Manderley before, when there was someone there who was born and bred to it, did it all naturally and without effort. And I realize, every day, that things I lack, confidence, grace, beauty, intelligence, wit - Oh, all the qualities that mean most in a woman - she possessed. It doesn't help, Frank, it doesn't help. ' He said nothing. He went on looking anxious, and distressed. He pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose. 'You must not say that, ' he said. 'Why not? It's true, ' I said. 'You have qualities that are just as important, far more so, in fact. It's perhaps cheek of me to say so, I don't know you very well. I'm a bachelor, I don't know very much about women, I lead a quiet sort of life down here at Manderley as you know, but I should say that kindness, and sincerity, and - if I may say so - modesty are worth far more to a man, to a husband, than all the wit and beauty in the world. ' He looked very agitated, and blew his nose again. I saw that I had upset him far more than I had upset myself, and the realization of this calmed me and gave me a feeling of superiority. I wondered why he was making such a fuss. After all, I had not said very much. I had only confessed my sense of insecurity, following as I did upon Rebecca. And she must have had these qualities that he presented to me as mine. She must have been kind and sincere, with all her friends, her boundless popularity. I was not sure what he meant by modesty. It was a word I had never understood. I always imagined it had something to do with minding meeting people in a passage on the way to the bathroom ... Poor Frank. And Beatrice had called him a dull man, with never a word to say for himself. 'Well, ' I said, rather embarrassed, 'well, I don't know about all that. I don't think I'm very kind, or particularly sincere, and as for being modest, I don't think I've ever had much of a chance to be anything else.

It was not very modest, of course, being married hurriedly like that, down in Monte Carlo, and being alone there in that hotel, beforehand, but perhaps you don't count that?' 'My dear Mrs de Winter, you don't think I imagine for one moment that your meeting down there was not entirely above board?' he said in a low voice. 'No, of course not, ' I said gravely. Dear Frank. I think I had shocked him. What a Frankish expression, too, 'above board'. It made one think immediately of the sort of things that would happen below board. 'I'm sure, ' he began, and hesitated, his expression still troubled, 'I'm sure that Maxim would be very worried, very distressed, if he knew how you felt. I don't think he can have any idea of it. ' 'You won't tell him?' I said hastily. 'No, naturally not, what do you take me for? But you see, Mrs de Winter, I know Maxim pretty well, and I've seen him through many ... Moods. If he thought you were worrying about - well - about the past, it would distress him more than anything on earth. I can promise you that. He's looking very well, very fit, but Mrs Lacy was quite right the other day when she said he had been on the verge of a breakdown last year, though it was tactless of her to say so in front of him. That's why you are so good for him. You are fresh and young and -and sensible, you have nothing to do with all that time that has gone. Forget it, Mrs de Winter, forget it, as he has done, thank heaven, and the rest of us. We none of us want to bring back the past. Maxim least of all. And it's up to you, you know, to lead us away from it. Not to take us back there again. ' He was right, of course he was right. Dear good Frank, my friend, my ally. I had been selfish and hypersensitive, a martyr to my own inferiority complex. 'I ought to have told you all this before, ' I said. 'I wish you had, ' he said. 'I might have spared you some worry. ' 'I feel happier, ' I said, 'much happier. And I've got you for my friend whatever happens, haven't I, Frank?' 'Yes, indeed, ' he said. We were out of the dark wooded drive and into the light again. The rhododendrons were upon us. Their hour would soon be over. Already they looked a little overblown, a little faded. Next month the petals would fall one by one from the great faces, and the gardeners would come and sweep them away. Theirs was a brief beauty.

Not lasting very long. 'Frank, ' I said, 'before we put an end to this conversation, for ever let's say, will you promise to answer me one thing, quite truthfully?' He paused, looking at me a little suspiciously. "That's not quite fair, ' he said, 'you might ask me something that I should not be able to answer, something quite impossible. ' 'No, ' I said, 'it's not that sort of question. It's not intimate or personal, or anything like that. ' 'Very well, I'll do my best, ' he said. We came round the sweep of the drive and Manderley was before us, serene and peaceful in the hollow of the lawns, surprising me as it always did, with its perfect symmetry and grace, its great simplicity. The sunlight flickered on the mullioned windows, and there was a soft rusted glow about the stone walls where the lichen clung. A thin column of smoke curled from the library chimney. I bit my thumbnail, watching Frank out of the tail of my eye. 'Tell me, ' I said, my voice casual, not caring a bit, 'tell me, was Rebecca very beautiful?' Frank waited a moment. I could not see his face. He was looking away from me towards the house. 'Yes, ' he said slowly, 'yes, I suppose she was the most beautiful creature I ever saw in my life. ' We went up the steps then to the hall, and I rang the bell for tea.
 
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[FONT=宋体]第12章

我难得见着丹弗斯太太,她闭门独处,轻易不露面。虽然她每天打内线电话到展室来,让我审定菜单,不过这纯粹是例行公事,而我们平日间的接触也仅止于此。她替我找了个贴身使女,名叫克拉丽斯,是庄园内某个下人的闺女。这姑娘文静,举止得体,很讨人喜欢。幸亏她过去从未当过女佣,因此没有那一套吓人的量人度物的准则。在整个宅子里,我看,只有她还算对我怀有几分敬畏,也只有在她的心目中,我才是这儿的女主人,是德温特夫人。仆役中间传播的那些流言蜚语可能对她没起任何作用。她曾有好一阵子不在庄园。她是在十五英里外的婶母家长大的。从某种意义上说,她和我一样是初来曼陀丽的陌生人。我在她面前感到轻松自如。我可以满不在乎地说:“哦,克拉丽斯,替我补一补袜子行吗?”

先前的女佣艾丽斯,好不神气。我总是偷偷把衬衣和睡衣从抽屉里拿出来自己缝补,不敢偏劳她。有一口,我曾看到她把我的一件内衣搭在手臂上,仔细打量那不怎么值钱的衣料,打量缝在衣服上面寒酸的窄花边。她脸上的那种表情,我这辈子永远也忘不了。她流露出近乎震惊的神色,仿佛她本人的尊严遭到了什么打击似的。以前我从来不怎么留心内衣,只要干净、整洁就行,至于衣料的质地如何,有无花边,在我是无所谓的。在书上曾读到新娘出嫁时,得一下子张罗几十套衣服作为嫁妆,而我压根儿没操过这份心。艾丽斯脸上的那副神情,不啻是给我上了一课,我赶紧向伦敦的一家店铺西索内衣目录。等我选定我要的内衣时,艾丽斯已不再服侍我,克拉丽斯接替了她的位置。为了克拉丽斯的缘故去购置新内衣,似乎太不值得,所以我把内衣目录往抽屉里一塞,再没写信向那店铺定货。

我常在怀疑,艾丽斯是不是曾把这件事在仆役中间捅出去,我的内衣会不会已成了下房里议论的内容。当然,这种事儿不成体统,只能起男仆不在时窃窃私语一番。艾丽斯颇为自矜,所以不会让这事作为笑料闹个满城风雨,例如,在她与弗里思之间就从未有过“把这件女用内衣拿去”之类不登大雅之堂的对话。

不,关于内衣的轶事可不能视同笑料,这事要严重得多,更像是私下打听到一桩离婚案……不管怎么说,艾丽斯把我扔给克拉丽斯,我是很高兴的。克拉丽斯根本分辨不出花边的真假。丹弗斯太太雇她来眼侍我,真可谓体贴周到呢。她一定觉得我和克拉丽斯作伴,乃是天造地设,各得其所。现在我既然已弄清丹弗斯太太厌恶和恼怒的原因所在,反倒觉得好受些了。我明白她为之咬牙切齿的并非我本人,而是我所代表的一切。不管谁来占去吕蓓卡的位置,她都会一视同仁。至少在比阿特丽斯来吃饭那天,我从她的话里听出了这层弦外之音。

“你难道不知道吗?”她这么说。“她对吕蓓卡崇拜得五体投地!”

我当时听了,着实为之一震。不知怎么地,我没料到她会说出这几句话。然而反复思量之后,我原对丹弗斯太太的那种恐惧感却开始淡薄了。我反而可怜起她来。我体会得出她内心的感受。每当别人称呼我“德温特夫人”时,她听了一定很伤心。她每天早晨拿起内线电话跟我说话,而我照例答以“好的,丹弗斯太太”,这时她势必在怀念着另一个人的嗓音。她穿堂越室,到处看到我留下的踪迹——撂在临窗座位上的软帽,搁在椅子上的编结袋——一定会触景生情,联想起以前也曾在屋里四处留下踪迹的另一个人。就连我也难免产生这种念头,说起来我同吕蓓卡还是素不相识的呢?丹弗斯太太可不同了,她熟悉吕蓓卡走路的姿势,听惯了她说话的声调。丹弗斯太太知道她眸子的色泽,她脸上的笑容,还有她发丝的纹路。我对这些一无所知,也从来不向别人打听,可有时候我觉得吕蓓卡对于我,也像对于丹弗斯太太一样,是个音容宛在的亡灵。

弗兰克要我忘掉过去,我自己也想把往事置诸脑后。可是弗兰克不必像我那样,每天坐在晨室里,触摸那支曾夹在她手指间的钢笔。他不必把手按在吸墨纸台上,两眼盯着面前的文件架,望着她留在那上面的字迹。他不必每天看着壁炉上的烛台、时钟、插着鲜花的花瓶,还有墙上的绘画,心里想着这一切原都归她所有,是她生前选中的,没有一样是我的。在餐厅里,弗兰克也无须坐在她的位子上,握着她生前握过的刀叉,还得从她用过的杯子里喝着什么。他未曾把她的雨衣披在肩上,也没有在口袋里摸到过她的手绢。每天我还注意到那条瞎眼老狗的茫然眼神,它蜷缩在藏书室的篓子里,一听到我的脚步声,一个女人的脚步声,总是抬起头来,用鼻子嗅嗅空气,随即又耷拉下脑袋,因为我不是它所期待寻找的人——而这些弗兰克是不会留神顾及的。

这些琐事本身虽则无聊之极,毫无意义,却明摆在那儿,没法熟视无睹,充耳不闻,也不能无动于衰。我的老天,我干吗要去想吕蓓卡!我希望自己幸福,也希望使迈克西姆幸福,我希望我俩能朝夕相处,形影不离。我心中只存此愿,别无他求。然而她偏要闯入我的脑际,侵入我的梦境,我有什么法子呢?当我在她生前溜达过的小径上漫步,在她生前躺过的地方休息时,我身不由已地感到在这曼陀丽庄园,在我自己的家里,我只是个盘恒小住的外客。我确实像个外人,在静候女主人的归来,哪怕是一些无关紧要的闲话,一些无关痛痒的微词,都在每时每刻提醒我别忘了自己的地位。

“弗里思,”一个夏日的早晨,我抱着一大束紫丁香走进藏书室,一面吩咐说,“弗里思,能找个长颈花瓶把这些花插上吗?花房里的花瓶都嫌小。”

“太太,客厅里那只石膏白花瓶,一向是用来插丁香花的。”

“喔,不会把花瓶弄坏吗?怕会碰碎吧。”

“太太,那只石膏花瓶德温特夫人一向用的。”

“喔,喔,那好吧。”

于是,那只石膏花瓶拿来了,里面已装满水。我把浓香扑鼻的丁香花插进去,一枝一枝摆弄舒齐。屋子里洋溢着紫红色花朵散发的芬芳;从敞开的窗户处,还不时飘来刚整修过的草坪的阵阵清香。我暗自寻思;“吕蓓卡也是这么做的。她也像我这样,拿起紫丁香,一枝一枝插入这只白花瓶。我并不是第一个想到要这么做的人。花瓶是吕蓓卡的,丁香花也是昌蓓卡的。”她必然像我一样,信步走进花园,头上戴一顶边沿下垂的园艺帽,就是我曾在花房里看到过压在几个旧靠垫下面的那一顶。她步履轻盈地穿过草地,朝丁香花丛走去,也许一边哼小调,一边打唿哨招呼身后的两条狗,要它们跟上来,手里还拿着我此刻握着的这把剪刀。

“弗里思,把窗口桌子旁的书架挪开一点行吗?我要把丁香花放在那儿。”

“可是,太太,德温特夫人一向把石膏花瓶放在沙发后面的桌子上。”

“哦,是这样……”我手捧花瓶迟疑了一会。弗里思脸上一无表情。当然,要是我说我喜欢把花瓶放在靠窗口的小桌上他是会服从我的,而且会立刻把书架移开。

可是我却说:“好吧,也许放在这张大一点的桌子上看去更美一些。”于是,石膏花瓶又像以往那样,放在沙发后面的桌子上了……

比阿特丽斯没忘记送一件结婚礼物的诺言。一天早晨,邮局送来一只包裹,包裹之大,几乎连罗伯特也搬不了。我正坐在晨室里,刚刚看完当天的菜单。每收到邮包我总像个孩子似地兴奋雀跃。我忙不迭地割断绳子,撕去深褐色的包封。里面包的好像是书。果然不错,是书,是四大部的《绘画史》。第一部里夹着一张纸条,上面写着“但愿此礼投你所好。”下面署名是“爱你的比阿特丽斯。”我能想象出她走进威格莫乐大街那家书店购书的情景。她带着几分男子气,不无唐突地四下一打量。“我想买套书送给一个热中于艺术的朋友。”她可能带几分疑惑的神情,用手抚摸着书。“不错,价钱倒是差不多。这是送人的结婚礼品,我希望能拿得出去。这几部全是关于艺术的?”“对的,是论述艺术的规范作品,”伙计这么回答她。于是比阿特丽斯便写了那张夹在书里的纸条,付了钱,留下地址:“曼陀丽,德温特夫人。”

比阿特丽斯心肠真好。她知道我爱好绘画,特地上伦敦的书店给我买了这些书,其中情意甚笃,想起来简直催人泪下。看来,她可能想象这样一种情景:某个阴雨天,我闲坐着,神情严肃地看着那些插图,然后也许信手取来图画纸和颜料盒,临摹其中一幅。好心的比阿特丽斯。我突然无端地想放声痛哭。我把这几卷大部头的书收拢来,环顾晨室,想找个放书的地方。这几部书与这个小巧玲珑的房间很不相称。没关系,反正现在是我的房间了。我把那几部书放在书桌上,竖成一行,一本斜靠着一本。书摇摇欲倒,好不危险。我往后退一两步,看看效果如何。不知是因为我退得太猛,引起了震动,还是怎么的,总之,那最前面的一部往下一歪,其余的也相继滑倒。书桌上原放着两件摆设:一对烛台和一具小巧的爱神瓷塑。这几部书倒下时,把那尊爱神瓷塑给掀翻了。爱神一头栽过字纸篓里,跌得粉身碎骨。我像个问了祸的顽童,匆忙朝门口瞥了一眼,接着就跪在地板上,把瓷塑碎片扫进手掌,再找了个信封装进去。我把信封藏在书桌的抽屉深处。随后就把这些书拿到藏书室,在书架上找了个空处插了进去。

当我洋洋得意地此书拿给迈克西姆看的时候,他呵呵乐了。

“亲爱的老姐姐比阿特丽斯,”他说,“看来你一定博得她的好感啦。要知道,她非万不得已是不开卷的。”

“她有没有说起——呃——对我有什么看法?”我问他。

“她来吃饭的那天吗?没有,我想她没有谈起过。”

“我还以为她会给你写封信或什么的。”

“比阿特丽斯和我从来不通信,除非家里出了什么重大的事情。写信实在是浪费时间,”迈克西姆说。

看来我是排除在重大事情之外了。我设身处地想想。假如我是比阿特丽斯,有个弟弟,现在这弟弟结婚了,那我当然会说点什么,表示一下自己的意见,或者在信里涂上几笔。除非对那位弟媳全无好感,或者觉得她配不上我弟弟,那自然又当别论。然而比阿特丽斯特地亲自为我上伦敦去买书。要是她果真不喜欢我,那她才不屑这么做呢。

我记得就在第二天午饭后,弗里思将咖啡送进藏书室后,没有立即离开,而是在迈克西姆身后转来转去,过了一会才说:

“老爷,我可以跟您谈件事吗?”迈克西姆将目光从报纸上移开了,抬头朝他看了一眼。

“行啊,费里思,什么事?”他说,感到有点意外。弗里思绷着脸,噘着嘴。我马上想到,会不会是他老婆死了。

“老爷,是关于罗伯特的事儿。他和丹弗斯太太之间闹了点别扭。罗伯特心里很不好受。”

“哦,老天爷,”迈克西姆朝我做了个鬼睑。我弯下身去抚摸杰斯珀,这是我发窘时必有的习惯动作。

“是的,老爷。大概是这么一回事情:丹弗斯太太指责罗伯特私藏了展室里一件值钱的摆设,因为给晨室送花、插花是罗伯特分内的差使。今天早晨丹弗斯太太走进晨室时,鲜花已插在花瓶里,她注意到少了件摆设。她说昨天明明还在的。她指着罗伯特的鼻子说,不是他擅自拿了摆设,就是打碎后把碎片藏了起来。罗伯特矢口否认于过这样的事。他来找我,急得简直要哭了。老爷,也许您注意到午餐时他有点不对头吧。”

“怪不得他给我端上肉片时没给我盘子,”迈克西姆咕哝着。“没想到罗伯特神经这么脆弱。唔,我看这事可能是别人干的。怕是哪个女仆干的吧。”

“不,老爷。丹弗斯太太进晨室时,女仆还没进去收拾房间。打昨儿太太离开以后没有人进去过,而罗伯特又是今天第一个往屋里送花的。老爷,出了这事儿,罗伯特和我都很难堪!”

“那当然罗。这样吧,去把丹弗斯太太叫来,咱们把事情搞个水落石出。噢,究竟是哪件小摆设?”

“那尊爱神瓷塑,老爷,就是放在写字桌上的那尊。”

“啊哟,老天。那可是我家一件宝贝,是不?一定得把它找出来,立刻把丹弗斯太太找来。”

“再好没有了,老爷。”

弗里思走了,房间里又只剩下我们两个。“实在讨厌,”迈克西姆说。“那爱神瓷塑还真值钱呢。再说,看到仆人们吵架我最头痛。我不明白,他们干吗来找我解决。这种事该由你管,我亲爱的。”

我抬起头来,目光从杰斯珀身上移开,脸红得像火烧。“亲爱的,”我说,“我早想告诉你,可是——可是我却忘了。事实上,那尊瓷塑是我昨天在晨室里打碎的。”

“你打碎的?那你刚才在弗里思面前干吗不这么说呢?”

“我也不知道。我不想这么做,我怕他会拿我当傻瓜看。”

“这下子他才真会拿你当大傻瓜看呢。现在你可得把事情向他和丹弗斯太太讲清楚。”

“哦,不要,别这样,迈克西姆,还是你对他们说吧。让我上楼去吧。”

“别干这种傻事。谁都会以为你怕他们哪。”

“我还真有点怕他们。不害怕,那至少也……”

门开了,弗里思领着丹弗斯太太进来。我神色紧张地望着迈克西姆,他耸耸肩,既感到事情有趣,又露出几分温色。

“丹弗斯太太,完全是一场误会。看来是德温特夫人自己把瓷塑打碎了,后来压根儿把这事给忘啦,”迈克西姆说

大家的目光全都集中在我身上,使我再次感到自己是个做了错事的孩子。我感到脸上依然火辣辣的。“真抱歉,”我望着丹弗斯太太说。“没想到结果给罗伯特惹了麻烦。”

“太太,那摆设还能修补一下吗?”丹弗斯太太说。阁下大祸的竟是我,对此她似乎并不感到意外,那张惨白的骷髅脸冲着我,那对黑眼珠紧盯在我身上。我觉得她可能早知道祸是我闯的,而她所以责怪罗伯特,不过是为了看看我是否有胆量站出来承认。

“怕不行了,”我说。“已经摔得粉碎。”

“那些碎片呢?你怎么处理的?”迈克西姆问我。

这光景像是逼着罪犯供出作案的罪证来。我的所作所为连自己听起来也觉得太渺小,太有失体面。“我把碎片装进了一只信封,”我说。

“那你又怎么处理那只信封的呢?”迈克西姆一面点烟一面说,那口吻既像在开玩笑,又含几分怒气。

“我把它放在写字桌的抽屉里边,”我说。

“瞧德温特夫人那副模样,好像你会把她送进监牢似的,丹弗斯太太,对不?”迈克西姆说。“你是不是把信封找出来,把碎片送到伦敦去。如果碎得太厉害没法修补,那也就没法想了。好吧,弗里思,告诉罗伯特,叫他把眼泪擦干,别哭啦。”

弗里思走了,丹弗斯太太还不想离开。“我当然要向罗伯特赔个不是,”她说。“可是从迹象来看真像是他干的。我没想到那瓷塑会是德温特夫人自己打碎的。要是以后再发生这样的事。德温特夫人是不是可以亲口对我讲明,这样我可以把事情处理得当些?这样可使大家免去许多不必要的误会。”

“自然罗,”迈克西姆不耐烦地说。“我不懂她昨天为什么不这么做。你进来的时候,我正想这么对她说呢。”

“也许德温特夫人还不知道这摆设的价值吧?”丹弗斯太太说着,眼光又落在我的身上。

“不,我知道的,”我可怜巴巴地说。“我担心那是非常值钱的玩意儿,所以我才这么当心,把碎片全扫拢来。”

“而且还把它们藏在抽屉的里边,藏在没人能找到的地方,嗯?”迈克西姆呵呵一笑,还耸了耸肩。“这种事只有小丫头才干得出来,丹弗斯太太,你说呢?”

“老爷,晨室里那些贵重的陈设,曼陀丽的小丫头是从来不许碰的,”丹弗斯太太回答说。

“是啊,你当然不会让她们碰这些东西,”迈克西姆说。

“这件事太不幸了,”丹弗斯太太接着说。“我想以前晨室里还没有发生过打碎东西的事儿。那里的东西我们总是格外当心。那里的灰尘一直由我亲自掸拂——我是说从去年开始。我对谁也不放心。德温特夫人在世时,那儿的贵重摆设总是由我俩一起收拾的。”

“可不是?唔——这事也没法挽回了,”迈克西姆说。“就这样吧,丹弗斯太太。”

她走了出去。我坐临窗座位上,眼望窗外,迈克西姆重新捡起报纸。我们谁也没说话。

“亲爱的,真对不起,”过了一会儿,我说。“我太不当心了。我自己也不知道怎么搞的。我只是把那些书排在书桌上,看看它们竖稳了没有,谁知爱神瓷塑就这么倒了下来。”

“别再想它啦,宝贝儿。这有什么关系呢?”

“当然有关系。我应该当心些才是。丹弗斯太太对我一定很恼火。”

“关她什么事,要她恼火?又不是她的瓷器。”

“虽说不是她的,可她为这些东酉感到自豪。想到那儿以前还没打碎过什么东西,格外叫我难受。竟是我开了这个先例。”

“与其让罗伯特倒霉,还不如是你打碎的好。”

“我真希望是罗伯特打碎的。这一来,丹弗斯太太永远不会原谅我了。”

“去他妈的丹弗斯太太,”迈克西姆说。“她难道是万能的主?你简直叫人没法理解。你说怕她,这是什么意思?”

“我并不是说真的怕她,我不常见到她,不是那么回事。到底怎么回事,连我自己也说不清楚。”

迈克西姆说:“你的做法有多离奇,打碎了东西干吗不把她找来,冲着她说:‘喂,丹弗斯太太,把这拿去修补一下。’你这么一说,她例会谅解的。可你呢,反而把碎片一块一块弄进信封,还把它们藏在抽屉里边。我刚才就说过,你的举动哪像个女主人,倒像家里的丫头呢。”

“我确实像个丫头,”我一字一句地说。“我知道自己在好多方面都像个丫头。这就是为什么我和克拉丽斯有那么许多共同点的缘故。我俩地位相当,而这也是她喜欢我的原因。前几天我去看她母亲,你猜她母亲说什么来着?我问她克拉丽斯跟我们一起是否觉得快活;她说,‘哦,那还用说,德温特夫人。看来克拉丽斯挺快活哪。她对我说:‘妈,不像跟一位阔太太在一起,倒像是跟咱们自家人在一起呢。’你觉得她这话算是恭维,还是含有别的意思?”

“谁知道,”迈克西姆回答说。“不过想到这话出自克拉丽斯母亲之口,我认为那是当面凌辱。她的小屋经常乱成一团糟,还发出一阵阵煮白菜的怪味。从前那阵子,她的九个孩子都还不满十一岁,她自己呢,老用袜子裹着头,光着脚丫子,在院子那头的一块地里啪嗒啪嗒奔忙。我们差点儿没把她辞退。想不到克拉丽斯倒出落得这般眉清目秀,干干净净。”

“她一直住在婶母家,”我说,心头直觉得抑郁。“我知道我那条法兰绒裙子前片的下摆上有个污演,不过我还从来没有头裹袜子、光着脚板走路呢。”我这时才明白,为什么克拉丽斯不像艾丽斯那样对我的内衣嗤之以鼻。“也许正是这个缘故,我才宁愿去看望克拉丽斯的母亲,而不想上主教夫人那类上流人家作客吧?”我接着说。“主教夫人可从未说过我像他们自己人。”

“要是你穿上那条邋遏裙子到她家作客,我料想她怎么也不会把你当自己人的,”迈克西姆说。

“我上回去拜访她,当然没穿着那条旧裙子,而是穿了件外套,”我说。“不管怎么说,我觉得那种以衣取人的人,自己也没什么可取之处。”

“我可不认为主教夫人怎么看重衣着,”迈克西姆说。“不过,要是她看到你只敢挨着椅子外圈的边沿坐,像个找工作的小妞似地只知回答‘是’和‘不是’,她倒可能不胜诧异。我们两人在一起只作过一次绝无仅有的回拜,当时你就是那副神态。”

“我在生人面前没法不感到忸怩。”

“这我可以理解,亲爱的。可你就是不想努力加以克眼。”

“你这么说未免太冤枉人了,”我反驳道。“现在每天,每逢外出或是接待来客,我一直试着克服怯生的羞态,总是尽量显得大方些。你不理解,这对你来说丝毫不成问题,你对这种事儿已习以为常,而我呢,可没有受过专为日后应付这种场面的教养。”

“乱弹琴,”迈克西姆说。“这根本不像你所说的是什么教养问题,而是在于自己的努力如何。你总不至于以为我喜欢出门作客吧?这种事真叫人腻烦透了。但是,在眼前这个生活圈子里,即使不愿意也得硬着头皮去应付。”

“我们谈论的事情和腻烦无关,”我说。“感到厌烦的时候,就没有什么好害怕的。如果我只是感到腻烦,事情就不一样了。我讨厌别人拿我当一头得奖的良种母牛看待,上上下下打量个没完。”

“谁拿你上下打量来着?”

“这儿所有的人,没一个例外。”

“就算这样,那又何妨?这会给他们增添点生活的乐趣。”

“我干吗非得充当给别人增添乐趣的角色,任人评头论足呢?”

“因为这儿一带,唯有曼陀丽发生的事儿才能引起人们的兴趣。”

“那我一定使他们大失所望了。”

迈克西姆不再回答我,回过头去继续读报。

“我一定使他们大失所望了,”我重复了一遍,又往下说。“你大概是因为这个缘故才跟我结婚的吧。你知道我这个人呆板无趣,不爱讲话,又没见过世面,所以这儿的人就不属对我飞短流长了。”

迈克西姆把报纸往地上一摔,猛地从椅子上站起。“你这话是什么意思?”他责问道。

他的脸色阴沉得异样,语气粗暴,绝非他平时说话的口气。

“我——我自己也不知道,”说着,我身子往后一靠,倚在窗子上。“我这话没别的意思。你干吗要这副模样?”

“你在这儿听到了些什么流言蜚语?”他说。

“什么也没听到,”我说。他望着我的那副神情真叫人害怕。“我这么说是因为——因为要找点话说说。别这么看着我,迈克西姆,我究竟说了些什么啦?究竟怎么回事?”

“这阵子谁尽在你面前饶舌了?”他慢腾腾地说。

“没有,谁也没有。”

“那你刚才干吗要这么说?”

“我对你说了,我自己也不知道。我正好想到这些,就脱口说了。我刚才恼火,发脾气了。我实在讨厌到那些人家里作客,这种情绪是无法控制的。你还要责怪我怯生怕羞。我又不是存心那样的,真的,迈克西姆,我不是故意的。请相信我吧。”

“说那些话,可不怎么特别悦耳动听,是吗?”他说。

“是的,”我说。“是的,既唐突,又叫人讨厌。”

他郁郁不乐地凝视着我,双手插在口袋里,把身子重量压在脚跟上前后摆动。“我怀疑自己娶你,是不是干了件极其自私的事,”他慢条斯理地说,若有所思。

我感到一股寒气直透心窝,心里很不是滋味。“你这话是什么意思?”我问。

“我对你可不是个好伴侣,是吗?”他说。“我俩年龄悬殊。你应该再等等,设法嫁个同你年龄相仿的小伙子,而不是嫁给一个像我这样已虚度半世人生的家伙。”

“真是无稽之谈,”我赶紧接着说。“你知道,在婚姻上,年龄无关紧要。我俩当然是风雨同舟的终生伴侣罗。”

“是吗?我可不敢说,”他说。

我跪在窗座上,伸手搂住他的肩膀。“干吗跟我讲这些呢?”我说。“你知道我爱你甚于世上的一切。除了你,我什么亲人也没有。你是我的父亲,我的兄长,我的儿子。你是我的一切。”

可我的话他并没听进去,径自说:“该怪我,是我催得你太紧,没让你有机会好好考虑一下。”

“我用不着考虑,”我说。“没有什么好选择的。迈克西姆,你不理解,要是一个人爱上了谁……”

“你在这里可感到快活?”他把目光从我身上移开,凝望窗外,“有时候我不免怀疑。近来你人消瘦了,脸色也不好。”

“我很快活,那还用说?”我说。“我爱曼陀丽,我爱这花园,我爱这儿的一切。要我去拜访别人我也不在乎,我不过是跟你怄气才说了那些话。只要你吩咐,我可以天天出门去作客。随便做什么我都不在乎。跟你结婚,我可从未后悔过,一分钟也没有。这点我不说想必你也知道。”

他带着那种骇人的迷惘神情,轻轻拍了拍我的腮帮子,弯下身,在我头顶上吻了一下。“可怜的羔羊,你没享受到多大的乐趣吧?我这个人恐怕很难相处。”

“一点也不难相处,”我急切地说。“你为人挺随和,同你很容易相处,比我原来想象的要容易得多。我一向以为结了婚,生活就糟糕透啦,丈夫要纵酒,满嘴粗话,见早餐桌上的吐司没烤到家,就要连声抱怨,总而言之,很难说得上有任何动人之处,说不定身上还有一股难闻的怪味。而你全然不是这种模样。”

“我的老天,但愿我不是这样,”迈克西姆说,脸上露出了笑容。

趁他微笑的当儿,我也微微一笑,拿起他的手吻了一下。“说我俩不是情投意合的生活伴侣,有多荒唐,”我说。“不信你瞧,咱俩每天晚上都坐在这儿,你看书读报,而我呢,就在你身边编结毛线,多么相配。我们简直像一对已经白首偕老的恩爱夫妻。我们当然是天造地设的一对。我们当然是快活的。可是听你说起来,好像我们做了什么错误决定似的。迈克西姆,你没有这个意思,是吗?你知道我们的婚姻是美满的,真可谓是天赐良缘,是吗?”

“要是你这么说,那就好啦,”他说。

“不单是我,你也是这么想的,是吧?亲爱的。这不单是我一个人的想法吧?我们很快活,是吧?非常非常快活。”

他没有回答我。他的眼睛还是凝望窗外。我握着他的双手,感到嗓门干涩,简直透不过气来,眼睛也感到火辣辣的。我心想,天哪,我们俩好像是在台上演戏,过一会儿就要幕落,我俩将朝观众鞠躬,然后走下舞台卸装。这决不可能是迈克西姆和我真实生活中的一个瞬间!我又在临窗座位上坐下,放开他的双手。我听到自己用一种冷若冰霜的声调说:“如果你真的觉得我们生活得不愉快,直截了当地说出来,岂不更好。我并不希望你言不由衷。我宁可走开,不再跟你在一起生活。”这席话,自然并非出于真心,这是舞台上那个姑娘的台词,而不是我对迈克西姆说的真心话。我在暗自勾勒那个角色该由什么样的姑娘来扮演,她该是:高高的个儿,苗条的身材,敢作敢为。

“嗳,你干吗不回答我呢?”我说。

他双手捧着我的脸,望着我,记得我们去海滩的那天,弗里思送茶进来时,他也曾像现在这样。

“叫我怎么回答你呢?”他说。“连我自己也搞不清楚。如果你说我们是快活的,那就别再往下说啦。这事我实在说不上来。我相信你的话。我们真的很快活。这不就好了?我们意见一致了。”他又吻了我一下,走到房间的那头。我还是直挺挺地坐在窗旁,双手揣在怀里。

“你这么说是因为你对我失望了,”我又说。“我这个人不善交际,手足无措,不懂衣着打扮,见了生人又欠落落大方。我在蒙特卡洛就曾提醒过你日后会出现什么情况。现在你倒嫌我同曼陀丽的气派格格不入了。”

“别胡扯,”他说。“我可从来没说过你不懂衣着打扮,或是不善交际。这都是你自己的想象。至于怯生嘛,我已对你说过了,你会摆脱的。”

“我们争论来争论去,”我说。“还是兜了个圈子回到原处。所以会引起这场风波,无非是因为我打碎了晨室里那尊爱神瓷塑。要不然,就根本没这回事,说不定这时我们已喝完咖啡,到花园里散步去了。”

“噢,那尊该死的瓷塑,见它的鬼去,”迈克西姆不耐烦地说。“那玩意儿是不是碎成齑粉,你难道真以为我在乎吗?”

“那不是价值连城的古玩吗?”

“谁知道呢。我想是吧。我确实记不起了。”

“晨室里的摆设是不是都很贵重?”

“大概是吧。”

“干吗家里的贵重物品全摆在晨室里?”

“我不知道,也许因为那些玩意儿摆在那儿是适得其所。”

“那些摆设一直就放在那儿的吗?你母亲在世时就在那儿了?”

“不,不,我想不是的。原先它们分散在宅子各处。我记得那几把椅子原是放在杂物房里的。”

“晨室是什么时候布置成现在这个样子的?”

“在我结婚的时候。”

“那么爱神瓷塑是在那时候放在那屋里的罗?”

“是这样吧。”

“也是从杂物房里找出来的吗?”

“不,我想不是的。这个嘛,实际上是件结婚礼品。吕蓓卡对瓷器很在行。”

我没有朝他看,开始修挫起指甲来。他提到那个名字时竟那么自然,那么镇静,口气是那么轻松,过了一会,我飞快瞥了他一眼,看见他站在壁炉旁,双手插在口袋里,眼睛直瞪瞪地盯着前方。我暗自说,他是在想吕蓓卡;他在想,多奇怪的机缘,我的结婚礼品竟把吕蓓卡的结婚礼品毁了。他在想那尊瓷塑,回想是谁送给吕蓓卡的。他在脑海中重温收到邮包时的情景。吕蓓卡如何兴高采烈。她对瓷器很精通。也许她跪在地上,撬开那只装瓷塑的小匣子,这时他走了进来。她一定是抬起头来,朝他看一眼,接着莞尔一笑。“你瞧,迈克斯,”她一定会这么说。“给我们寄什么来了,”说着就把手伸进刨花填料中,拿出一具以一条腿站立的、手持弓箭的爱神塑像。“我们把它放在晨室里吧,”她一定是这么说的,而他呢,也在她身旁跪下来,于是两人一起赏玩那尊爱神。

我还是一个劲儿修锉自己的指甲。指甲难看得不成样子,活像小学男生的指甲。指甲根处的表皮长过了头,不再呈半月形。拇指甲几乎被咬得陷进肉里。我朝迈克西姆瞥了一眼,他仍站在壁炉前。

“你在想什么?”我问。

我的声音沉着而冷静,然而,心儿在胸口怦怦乱跳,脑海中苦恨交加的思潮起伏不已。他点了一支烟,虽然我们刚用过午饭,可他已在抽那天的第二十五支烟了;他把火柴往空荡荡的炉堂里一扔,然后捡起报纸。

“没想什么。怎么啦?”他说。

“哦,我也不知道,”我说。“你神情那么严肃,那么恍惚。”

他漫不经心地吹起口哨,夹在他手指缝里的那支烟卷被扭弯了。“事实上我不过在想,他们是不是选中塞雷板球队,让他们在奥佛尔球场上和中塞克思队交锋,”他说。

他重新在椅子上坐定,把报纸折起。我转脸朝窗外望去。不多一会,杰斯珀来到我跟前,爬上我的膝头
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Chapter twelve

I did not see much of Mrs Danvers. She kept very much to herself. She still rang the house telephone to the morning-room every day and submitted the menu to me as a matter of form, but that was the limit of our intercourse. She had engaged a maid for me, Clarice, the daughter of somebody on the estate, a nice quiet well-mannered girl, who, thank heaven, had never been in service before and had no alarming standards. I think she was the only person in the house who stood in awe of me. To her I was the mistress: I was Mrs de Winter. The possible gossip of the others could not affect her. She had been away for some time, brought up by an aunt fifteen miles away, and in a sense she was as new to Manderley as I was. I felt at ease with her. I did not mind saying 'Oh, Clarice, would you mend my stocking?" The housemaid Alice had been so superior. I used to sneak my chemise and nightgowns out of my drawer and mend them myself rather than ask her to do them. I had seen her once, with one of my chemises over her arm, examining the plain material with its small edging of lace. I shall never forget her expression. She looked almost shocked, as though her own personal pride had received a blow.

I had never thought about my underclothes before. As long as they were clean and neat I had not thought the material or the existence of lace mattered. Brides one read about had trousseaux, dozens of sets at a time, and I had never bothered. Alice's face taught me a lesson. I wrote quickly to a shop in London and asked for a catalogue of under-linen. By the time I had made my choice Alice was looking after me no longer and Clarice was installed instead. It seemed such a waste buying new underclothes for Clarice that I put the catalogue away in a drawer and never wrote to the shop after all. I often wondered whether Alice told the others, and if my underclothes became a topic of conversation in the servants' hall, something rather dreadful, to be discussed in low tones when the men were nowhere about. She was too superior for it to be made a joking question. Phrases like 'Chemise to you' would never be bandied between her and Frith, for instance. No, my underclothes were more serious than that. More like a divorce case heard in camera... At any rate I was glad when Alice surrendered me to Clarice. Clarice would never know real lace from false. It was considerate of Mrs Danvers to have engaged her. She must have thought we would be fit company, one for the other. Now that I knew the reason for Mrs Danvers' dislike and resentment it made things a little easier. I knew it was not just me personally she hated, but what I represented. She would have felt the same towards anyone who had taken Rebecca's place. At least that was what I understood from Beatrice the day she came to lunch. 'Did not you know?' she had said; 'she simply adored Rebecca. ' The words had shocked me at the time. Somehow I had not expected them. But when I thought it over I began to lose my first fear of Mrs Danvers. I began to be sorry for her. I could imagine what she must feel. It must hurt her every time she heard me called 'Mrs de Winter'. Every morning when she took up the house telephone and spoke to me, and I answered 'Yes, Mrs Danvers, ' she must be thinking of another voice. When she passed through the rooms and saw traces of me about the place, a beret on a window-seat, a bag of knitting on a chair, she must think of another one, who had done these things before.

Even as I did. I, who had never known Rebecca. Mrs Danvers knew how she walked and how she spoke. Mrs Danvers knew the colour of her eyes, her smile, the texture of her hair. I knew none of these things, I had never asked about them, but sometimes I felt Rebecca was as real to me as she was to Mrs Danvers. Frank had told me to forget the past, and I wanted to forget it. But Frank did not have to sit in the morning-room as I did, every day, and touch the pen she had held between her fingers. He did not have to rest his hands on the blotter, and stare in front of him at her writing on the pigeon-holes. He did not have to look at the candlesticks on the mantelpiece, the clock, the vase in which the flowers stood, the pictures on the walls and remember, every day, that they belonged to her, she had chosen them, they were not mine at all. Frank did not have to sit at her place in the dining-room, hold the knife and fork that she had held, drink from her glass. He did not throw a coat over his shoulders which had been hers, nor find her handkerchief in the pocket. He did not notice, every day, as I did, the blind gaze of the old dog in its basket in the library, who lifted its head when it heard my footstep, the footstep of a woman, and sniffing the air drooped its head again, because I was not the one she sought. Little things, meaningless and stupid in themselves, but they were there for me to see, for me to hear, for me to feel. Dear God, I did not want to think about Rebecca. I wanted to be happy, to make Maxim happy, and I wanted us to be together. There was no other wish in my heart but that. I could not help it if she came to me in thoughts, in dreams. I could not help it if I felt like a guest in Manderley, my home, walking where she had trodden, resting where she had lain. I was like a guest, biding my time, waiting for the return of the hostess. Little sentences, little reproofs reminding me every hour, every day. 'Frith, ' I said, coming into the library on a summer morning, my arms full of lilac, 'Frith, where can I find a tall vase for these? They are all too small in the flower-room. ' 'The white alabaster vase in the drawing-room was always used for the lilac, Madam. ' 'Oh, wouldn't it be spoilt? It might get broken. ' 'Mrs de Winter always used the alabaster vase, Madam. ' 'Oh, oh, I see. ' Then the alabaster vase was brought for me, already filled with water, and as I put the sweet lilac in the vase and arranged the sprigs, one by one, the mauve warm scent filling the room, mingling with the smell of the new-mown lawn outside coming from the open window, I thought: 'Rebecca did this.
 
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She took the lilac, as I am doing, and put the sprigs one by one in the white vase. I'm not the first to do it. This is Rebecca's vase, this is Rebecca's lilac' She must have wandered out into the garden as I did, in that floppy garden hat that I had seen once at the back of the cupboard in the flower-room, hidden under some old cushions, and crossed the lawn to the lilac bushes, whistling perhaps, humming a tune, calling to the dogs to follow her, carrying in her hands the scissors that I carried now. 'Frith, could you move that book-stand from the table in the window, and I will put the lilac there?' 'Mrs de Winter always had the alabaster vase on the table behind the sofa, Madam. ' 'Oh, well... ' I hesitated, the vase in my hands, Frith's face impassive. He would obey me of course if I said I preferred to put the vase on the smaller table by the window. He would move the book-stand at once. 'All right, ' I said, 'perhaps it would look better on the larger table. ' And the alabaster vase stood, as it had always done, on the table behind the sofa ... Beatrice remembered her promise of a wedding present. A large parcel arrived one morning, almost too large for Robert to carry. I was sitting in the morning-room, having just read the menu for the day. I have always had a childish love of parcels. I snipped the string excitedly, and tore off the dark brown paper. It looked like books. I was right. It was books. Four big volumes. A History of Painting. And a sheet of note-paper in the first volume saying 'I hope this is the sort of thing you like, ' and signed 'Love from Beatrice. ' I could see her going into the shop in Wigmore Street and buying them. Looking about her in her abrupt, rather masculine way. 'I want a set of books for someone who is keen on Art, ' she would say, and the attendant would answer, 'Yes, Madam, will you come this way. ' She would finger the volumes a little suspiciously. 'Yes, that's about the price. It's for a wedding present. I want them to look good. Are these all about Art?' 'Yes, this is the standard work on the subject, ' the assistant would say.

And then Beatrice must have written her note, and paid her cheque, and given the address 'Mrs de Winter, Manderley. ' It was nice of Beatrice. There was something rather sincere and pathetic about her going off to a shop in London and buying me these books because she knew I was fond of painting. She imagined me, I expect, sitting down on a wet day and looking solemnly at the illustrations, and perhaps getting a sheet of drawing-paper and a paint-box and copying one of the pictures. Dear Beatrice. I had a sudden, stupid desire to cry. I gathered up the heavy volumes and looked round the morning-room for somewhere to put them. They were out of place in that fragile delicate room. Never mind, it was my room now, after all. I arranged them in a row on the top of the desk. They swayed dangerously, leaning one against the other. I stood back a bit, to watch the effect. Perhaps I moved too quickly, and it disturbed them. At any rate the foremost one fell, and the others slid after him. They upset a little china cupid who had hitherto stood alone on the desk except for the candlesticks. He fell to the ground, hitting the waste-paper basket as he did so, and broke into fragments. I glanced hurriedly at the door, like a guilty child. I knelt on the floor and swept up the pieces into my hand. I found an envelope to put them in. I hid the envelope at the back of one of the drawers in the desk. Then I took the books off to the library and found room for them on the shelves. Maxim laughed when I showed them to him with pride. 'Dear old Bee, ' he said, 'you must have had a success with her. She never opens a book if she can help it. ' 'Did she say anything about - well - what she thought of me?' I asked. 'The day she came to lunch? No, I don't think so. ' 'I thought she might have written or something. ' 'Beatrice and I don't correspond unless there's a major event in the family. Writing letters is a waste of time, ' said Maxim. I supposed I was not a major event. Yet if I had been Beatrice, and had a brother, and the brother married, surely one would have said something, expressed an opinion, written two words? Unless of course one had taken a dislike to the wife, or thought her unsuitable. Then of course it would be different. Still, Beatrice had taken the trouble to go up to London and to buy the books for me. She would not have done that if she disliked me.

It was the following day I remember, when Frith, who had brought in the coffee after lunch to the library, waited a moment, hovering behind Maxim, and said, 'Could I speak to you, sir?' Maxim glanced up from his paper. 'Yes, Frith, what is it?' he said, rather surprised. Frith wore a stiff solemn expression, his lips pursed. I thought at once his wife had died. 'It's about Robert, sir. There has been a slight unpleasantness between him and Mrs Danvers. Robert is very upset. ' 'Oh, Lord, ' said Maxim, making a face at me. I bent down to fondle Jasper, my unfailing habit in moments of embarrassment. 'Yes, sir. It appears Mrs Danvers has accused Robert of secreting a valuable ornament from the morning-room. It is Robert's business to bring in the fresh flowers to the morning-room and place the vases. Mrs Danvers went in this morning after the flowers had been done, and noticed one of the ornaments was missing. It was there yesterday, she said. She accused Robert of either taking the ornament or breaking it and concealing the breakage. Robert denied both accusations most emphatically, and came to me nearly in tears, sir. You may have noticed he was not himself at lunch. ' 'I wondered why he handed me the cutlets without giving me a plate, ' murmured Maxim. 'I did not know Robert was so sensitive. Well, I suppose someone else did it. One of the maids. ' 'No, sir. Mrs Danvers went into the room before the girl had done the room. Nobody had been there since Madam yesterday, and Robert first thing with the flowers. It makes it very unpleasant for Robert and myself, sir. ' 'Yes, of course it does. Well you had better ask Mrs Danvers to come here and we'll get to the bottom of it. What ornament was it, anyway?' 'The china cupid, sir, that stands on the writing-table. ' 'Oh! Oh, Lord. That's one of our treasures, isn't it? It will have to be found. Get hold of Mrs Danvers at once. ' 'Very good, sir. ' Frith left the room and we were alone again. 'What a confounded nuisance, ' said Maxim; 'that cupid is worth a hell of a lot. How I loathe servants' rows too. I wonder why they come to me about it. That's your job, sweetheart. ' I looked up from Jasper, my face red as fire. 'Darling, ' I said, 'I meant to tell you before, but -but I forgot.
 
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The fact is I broke that cupid when I was in the morning-room yesterday. ' 'You broke it? Well, why the devil didn't you say so when Frith was here?' 'I don't know. I didn't like to. I was afraid he would think me a fool. ' 'He'll think you much more of a fool now. You'll have to explain to him and Mrs Danvers. ' 'Oh, no, please, Maxim, you tell them. Let me go upstairs. ' 'Don't be a little idiot. Anyone would think you were afraid of them. ' 'I am afraid of them. At least, not afraid, but The door opened, and Frith ushered Mrs Danvers into the room. I looked nervously at Maxim. He shrugged his shoulders, half amused, half angry. 'It's all a mistake, Mrs Danvers. Apparently Mrs de Winter broke the cupid herself and forgot to say anything, ' said Maxim. They all looked at me. It was like being a child again. I was still aware of my guilty flush. 'I'm so sorry, ' I said, watching Mrs Danvers, 'I never thought Robert would get into trouble. ' 'Is it possible to repair the ornament, Madam?' said Mrs Danvers. She did not seem to be surprised that I was the culprit. She looked at me with her white skull's face and her dark eyes. I felt she had known it was me all along and had accused Robert to see if I would have the courage to confess. 'I'm afraid not, ' I said, 'it's smashed in little pieces. ' 'What did you do with the pieces?' said Maxim. It was like being a prisoner, giving evidence. How paltry and mean my actions sounded, even to myself. 'I put them all into an envelope, ' I said. 'Well, what did you do with the envelope?' said Maxim, lighting a cigarette, his tone a mixture of amusement and exasperation. 'I put it at the back of one of the drawers in the writing-desk, ' I said. 'It looks as though Mrs de Winter thought you would put her in prison, doesn't it, Mrs Danvers?' said Maxim. 'Perhaps you would find the envelope and send the pieces up to London. If they are too far gone to mend it can't be helped. All right, Frith. Tell Robert to dry his tears. ' Mrs Danvers lingered when Frith had gone. 'I will apologize to Robert of course, ' she said, 'but the evidence pointed so strongly to him. It did not occur to me that Mrs de Winter had broken the ornament herself. Perhaps, if such a thing should happen again, Mrs de Winter will tell me personally, and I will have the matter attended to? It would save everybody a lot of unpleasantness. ' 'Naturally, ' said Maxim impatiently, 'I can't think why she didn't do so yesterday.

I was just going to tell her when you came into the room. ' 'Perhaps Mrs de Winter was not aware of the value of the ornament?' said Mrs Danvers, turning her eyes upon me. 'Yes, ' I said wretchedly. 'Yes, I was afraid it was valuable. That's why I swept the pieces up so carefully. ' 'And hid them at the back of a drawer where no one would find them, eh?' said Maxim, with a laugh, and a shrug of the shoulders. 'Is not that the sort of thing the between-maid is supposed to do, Mrs Danvers?' "The between-maid at Manderley would never be allowed to touch the valuable things in the morning-room, sir, ' said Mrs Danvers. 'No, I can't see you letting her, ' said Maxim. 'It's very unfortunate, ' said Mrs Danvers, 'I don't think we have ever had any breakages in the morning-room before. We were always so particular. I've done the dusting in there myself since - last year. There was no one I could trust. When Mrs de Winter was alive we used to do the valuables together. ' 'Yes, well - it can't be helped, ' said Maxim. 'All right, Mrs Danvers. ' She went out of the room, and I sat on the window-seat, looking out of the window. Maxim picked up his paper again. Neither of us spoke. 'I'm awfully sorry, darling, ' I said, after a moment, 'it was very careless of me. I can't think how it happened. I was just arranging those books on the desk, to see if they would stand, and the cupid slipped. ' 'My sweet child, forget it. What does it matter?' 'It does matter. I ought to have been more careful. Mrs Danvers must be furious with me. ' 'What the devil has she got to be furious about? It's not her bit of china. ' 'No, but she takes such a pride in it all. It's so awful to think nothing in there has ever been broken before. It had to be me. ' 'Better you than the luckless Robert. ' 'I wish it had been Robert. Mrs Danvers will never forgive me. ' 'Damn Mrs Danvers, ' said Maxim, 'she's not God Almighty, is she? I can't understand you. What do you mean by saying you are afraid of her?' 'I did not mean afraid exactly. I don't see much of her. It's not that. I can't really explain. ' 'You do such extraordinary things, ' said Maxim; 'fancy not getting hold of her when you broke the thing and saying, "Here, Mrs Danvers, get this mended. " She'd understand that. Instead of which you scrape up the remains in an envelope and hide 'em at the back of a drawer. Just like a between-maid, as I said, and not the mistress of a house. ' 'I am like a between-maid, ' I said slowly, 'I know I am, in lots of ways: That's why I have so much in common with Clarice.

We are on the same sort of footing. And that's why she likes me. I went and saw her mother the other day. And do you know what she said? I asked her if she thought Clarice was happy with us, and she said, "Oh, yes, Mrs de Winter. Clarice seems quite happy. She says, 'It's not like being with a lady, Mum, it's like being with one of ourselves. ' " Do you suppose she meant it as a compliment or not?' 'God knows, ' said Maxim; 'remembering Clarice's mother, I should take it as a direct insult. Her cottage is generally a shambles and smells of boiled cabbage. At one time she had nine children under eleven, and she herself used to patter about in that patch of garden with no shoes and a stocking round her head. We nearly gave her notice to quit. Why Clarice looks as neat and clean as she does I can't imagine. ' 'She's been living with an aunt, ' I said, feeling rather subdued. 'I know my flannel skirt has a dirty mark down the front, but I've never walked barefoot with a stocking round my head. ' I knew now why Clarice did not disdain my underclothes as Alice had done. 'Perhaps that's why I prefer calling on Clarice's mother to calling on people like the bishop's wife?' I went on. 'The bishop's wife never said I was like one of themselves. ' 'If you wear that grubby skirt when you call on her I don't suppose she does, ' said Maxim. 'Of course I didn't call on her in my old skirt, I wore a frock, ' I said, 'and anyway I don't think much of people who just judge one by one's clothes. ' 'I hardly think the bishop's wife cares twopence about clothes, ' said Maxim, 'but she may have been rather surprised if you sat on the extreme edge of the chair and answered "Yes" and "No" like someone after a new job, which you did the only time we returned a call together. ' 'I can't help being shy. ' 'I know you can't, sweetheart. But you don't make an effort to conquer it. ' 'I think that's very unfair, ' I said. 'I try every day, every time I go out or meet anyone new. I'm always making efforts. You don't understand. It's all very well for you, you're used to that sort of thing. I've not been brought up to it. ' 'Rot, ' said Maxim; 'it's not a question of bringing up, as you put it. It's a matter of application. You don't think I like calling on people, do you? It bores me stiff. But it has to be done, in this part of the world. ' 'We're not talking about boredom, ' I said; 'there's nothing to be afraid of in being bored.
 
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If I was just bored it would be different. I hate people looking me up and down as though I were a prize cow. ' 'Who looks you up and down?' 'All the people down here. Everybody. ' 'What does it matter if they do? It gives them some interest in life. ' 'Why must I be the one to supply the interest, and have all the criticism?' 'Because life at Manderley is the only thing that ever interests anybody down here. ' 'What a slap in the eye I must be to them then. ' Maxim did not answer. He went on looking at his paper. 'What a slap in the eye I must be to them, ' I repeated. And then, 'I suppose that's why you married me, ' I said; 'you knew I was dull and quiet and inexperienced, so that there would never be any gossip about me. ' Maxim threw his paper on the ground and got up from his chair. 'What do you mean?' he said. His face was dark and queer, and his voice was rough, not his voice at all. 'I-I don't know, ' I said, leaning back against the window, 'I don't mean anything. Why do you look like that?' 'What do you know about any gossip down here?' he said. 'I don't, ' I said, scared by the way he looked at me. 'I only said it because - because of something to say. Don't look at me like that. Maxim, what have I said? what's the matter?' 'Who's been talking to you, ' he said slowly. 'No one. No one at all' 'Why did you say what you did?' 'I tell you, I don't know. It just came to my head. I was angry, cross. I do hate calling on these people. I can't help it. And you criticized me for being shy. I didn't mean it. Really, Maxim, I didn't. Please believe 'It was not a particularly attractive thing to say, was it?' he said. 'No, ' I said. 'No, it was rude, hateful. ' He stared at me moodily, his hands in his pockets, rocking backwards and forwards on his heels. 'I wonder if I did a very selfish thing in marrying you, ' he said. He spoke slowly, thoughtfully. I felt very cold, rather sick. 'How do you mean?' I said. 'I'm not much of a companion to you, ami?' he said. 'There are too many years between us. You ought to have waited, and then married a boy of your own age. Not someone like myself, with half his life behind him. ' "That's ridiculous, ' I said hurriedly, 'you know age doesn't mean anything in marriage. Of course we are companions. ' 'Are we? I don't know, ' he said. I knelt up on the window-seat and put my arms round his shoulders. 'Why do you say these things to me?' I said; 'you know I love you more than anything in the world.

There has never been anyone but you. You are my father and my brother and my son. All those things. ' 'It was my fault, ' he said, not listening. 'I rushed you into it. I never gave you a chance to think it over. ' 'I did not want to think it over, ' I said, 'there was no other choice. You don't understand, Maxim. When one loves a person 'Are you happy here?' he said, looking away from me, out of the window, 'I wonder sometimes. You've got thinner. Lost your colour. ' 'Of course I'm happy, ' I said, 'I love Manderley. I love the garden, I love everything. I don't mind calling on people. I just said that to be tiresome. I'll call on people every day, if you want me to. I don't mind what I do. I've never for one moment regretted marrying you, surely you must know that?' He patted my cheek in his terrible absent way, and bent down, and kissed the top of my head. 'Poor lamb, you don't have much fun, do you? I'm afraid I'm very difficult to live with. ' 'You're not difficult, ' I said eagerly, 'you are easy, very easy. Much easier than I thought you would be. I used to think it would be dreadful to be married, that one's husband would drink, or use awful language, or grumble if the toast was soft at breakfast, and be rather unattractive altogether, smell possibly. You don't do any of those things. ' 'Good God, I hope not, ' said Maxim, and he smiled. I seized advantage of his smile, I smiled too, and took his hands and kissed them. 'How absurd to say we are not companions, ' I said; 'why look how we sit here every evening, you with a book or a paper, and me with my knitting. Just like cups of tea. Just like old people, married for years and years. Of course we are companions. Of course we are happy. You talk as though you thought we had made a mistake? You don't mean it like that, do you, Maxim? You know our marriage is a success, a wonderful success?' 'If you say so, then it's all right, ' he said. 'No, but you think it too, don't you, darling? It's not just me? We are happy, aren't we? Terribly happy?' He did not answer. He went on staring out of the window while I held his hands. My throat felt dry and tight, and my eyes were burning. Oh, God, I thought, this is like two people in a play, in a moment the curtain will come down, we shall bow to the audience, and go off to our dressing-rooms.

This can't be a real moment in the lives of Maxim and myself. I sat down on the window-seat, and let go of his hands. I heard myself speaking in a hard cool voice. 'If you don't think we are happy it would be much better if you would admit it. I don't want you to pretend anything. I'd much rather go away. Not live with you any more. ' It was not really happening of course. It was the girl in the play talking, not me to Maxim. I pictured the type of girl who would play the part. Tall and slim, rather nervy. 'Well, why don't you answer me?' I said. He took my face in his hands and looked at me, just as he had before, when Frith had come into the room with tea, the day we went to the beach. 'How can I answer you?' he said. 'I don't know the answer myself. If you say we are happy, let's leave it at that. It's something I know nothing about. I take your word for it. We are happy. All right then, that's agreed!' He kissed me again, and then walked away across the room. I went on sitting by the window, stiff and straight, my hands in my lap. 'You say all this because you are disappointed in me, ' I said. 'I'm gauche and awkward, I dress badly, I'm shy with people. I warned you in Monte Carlo how it would be. You think I'm not right for Manderley. ' 'Don't talk nonsense, ' he said. 'I've never said you dressed badly or were gauche. It's your imagination. As for being shy, you'll get over that. I've told you so before. ' 'We've argued in a circle, ' I said, 'we've come right back to where we started. This all began because I broke the cupid in the morning-room. If I hadn't broken the cupid none of this would have happened. We'd have drunk our coffee, and gone out into the garden. ' 'Oh, damn that infernal cupid, ' said Maxim wearily. 'Do you really think I care whether it's in ten thousand pieces or not?' 'Was it very valuable?' 'Heaven knows. I suppose so. I've really forgotten. ' 'Are all those things in the morning-room valuable?' 'Yes, I believe so. ' 'Why were all the most valuable things put in the morning-room?' 'I don't know. I suppose because they looked well there. ' 'Were they always there? When your mother was alive?' 'No. No, I don't think they were. They were scattered about the house. The chairs were in a lumber room I believe. ' 'When was the morning-room furnished as it is now?' 'When I was married. ' I suppose the cupid was put there then?' I suppose so. ' 'Was that found in a lumber room?' 'No. No, I don't think it was. As a matter of fact I believe it was a wedding-present. Rebecca knew a lot about china. ' I did not look at him. I began to polish my nails. He had said the word quite naturally, quite calmly. It had been no effort to him. After a minute I glanced at him swiftly. He was standing by the mantelpiece, his hands in his pockets. He was staring straight in front of him. He is thinking about Rebecca, I said to myself. He is thinking how strange it was that a wedding present to me should have been the cause of destroying a wedding present to Rebecca. He is thinking about the cupid. He is remembering who gave it to Rebecca. He is going over in his mind how the parcel came and how pleased she was. Rebecca knew a lot about china. Perhaps he came into the room, and she was kneeling on the floor, wrenching open the little crate in which the cupid was packed. She must have glanced up at him, and smiled. 'Look, Max, ' she would have said, 'look what we've been sent. ' And she then would have plunged her hand down into the shavings and brought out the cupid who stood on one foot, his bow in his hand. "We'll have it in the morning-room, ' she must have said, and he must have knelt down beside her, and they must have looked at the cupid together. I went on polishing my nails. They were scrubby, like a schoolboy's nails. The cuticles grew up over the half moons. The thumb was bitten nearly to the quick. I looked at Maxim again. He was still standing in front of the fireplace. 'What are you thinking about?' I said. My voice was steady and cool. Not like my heart, thumping inside me. Not like my mind, bitter and resentful. He lit a cigarette, surely the twenty-fifth that day, and we had only just finished lunch; he threw the match into the empty grate, he picked up the paper. 'Nothing very much, why?' he said. 'Oh, I don't know, ' I said, 'you looked so serious, so far away. ' He whistled a tune absently, the cigarette twisting in his fingers. 'As a matter of fact I was wondering if they had chosen the Surrey side to play Middlesex at the Oval, ' he said. He sat down in the chair again and folded the paper. I looked out of the window. Presently Jasper came to me and climbed on my lap.
 
最后编辑: 2017-04-11

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