章节正文
sheenies in the alley behind the Cruelty--remember? I gave them
that little pinch-nosed Maude Adams, and dry, corking little Mrs.
Fiske, and Henry Miller when he smooths down his white breeches
lovingly and sings Sally in our Alley, and strutting old
Mansfield, and--
Say, isn't it funny, Mag, that I've seen 'em all and know all
they can do? They've been my college education, that crowd. Not a
bad one, either, when you come to think of what I wanted from it.
They pulled the curtains down at the end and I went back to the
bedroom. I had my hat and jacket on when Mrs. Gates and some of
the younger ladies came to see me there, but I caught no glimpse
of Latimer. You'd think--wouldn't you--that he'd have made an
opportunity to say just one nice word to me in that easy, soft
voice of his? I tried to believe that perhaps he hadn't really
seen me, lying down, as he must have been, or that he hadn't
recognized me, but I knew that I couldn't make myself believe
that; and the lack of just that word from him spoiled all my
satisfaction with myself, and I walked out with Mrs. Gates
through the hall and past the dining-room feeling as hurt as
though I'd deserved that a man like Latimer should notice me.
The dining-room was all lighted, but empty--the colored, shaded
candlesticks glowing down on the cut glass and silver, on
delicate china and flowers. The ladies and gentlemen hadn't come
out to supper yet; at least, only one was there. He was standing
with his back to me, before the sideboard, pouring out a glass of
something from a decanter. He turned at the rustle of my starched
skirt, and, as I passed the door, he saw me. I saw him, too, and
hurried away.
Yes, I knew him. Just you wait.
I got home here earlier than I'd expected, and I'd just got off
my hat and jacket and put away that snug little check when there
came a ring at the bell.
I thought it was you, Mag--that you'd forgotten your key. I was
so sure of it that I pulled the door open wide with a flourish
and--
And admitted--Edward!
Yes, Edward, husband of the Dowager. The same red-faced,
big-necked old fellow, husky-voiced with whisky now, just as he
was before. He must have been keeping it up steadily ever since
the day out in the country when Tom lifted his watch. It'll take
more than one lost watch to cure Edward.
"I--followed you home, Miss Murieson," he said, grabbing me by
the hand and pushing the door closed behind him. "Or is it Miss
Murieson? Which is your stage name, and which your real one? And
have you really learned to remember it? For my part, any old name
will smell as sweet, now that I'm close to the rose."
I jerked my hand away from him.
"I didn't ask you to call," I said, haughty as the Dowager
herself was when first I saw her in her gorgeousparlor, the
Bishop's card in her hand.
"No, I noticed that," he roared jovially. "You skinned out the
front door the moment you saw me. All that was left to me was to
skin after."
"Why?"
"Why!" He slapped his leg as though he'd heard the best joke in
the world. "To renew our acquaintance, of course. To ask you if
you wouldn't like me to buy you a red coat and hat like the one
you left behind you that day over in Philadelphia, when you cut
your visit so short. To insist upon my privilege of relationship.
To call that wink you gave me in the hall that day, you little
devil. Now, don't look at me like that. I say, let's be friends;
won't you?"
"Not for a red coat trimmed with chinchilla," I cried.
He got between me and the door.
"Prices gone up?" he inquired pleasantly. "Who's bulling the stock?"
"Never you mind, so long as his name isn't Ramsay."
"But why shouldn't his name be Ramsay?" he cooed.
"Just because it isn't. I'm expecting a friend. Hadn't you
better go home to Mrs. Dowager Diamonds?"
"Bully! Is that what you call her? No, I'll stay and meet your friend."
"Better not."
"Oh, I'm not afraid. Does he know as much about you as I do?"
"More."
"About your weakness for other girls' coats?"
"Yes."
You do know it all, don't you? And yet you care for me, Maggie
Monahan!
I retreated before him into the dining-room. What in the world to
do to get rid of him!
"I think you'd better go home, Mr. Ramsay," I said again,
decidedly. "If you don't, I'll have to call the janitor to put
you out."
"Call, sweetheart. He'll put you out with me; for I'll tell him
a thing or two about you, and we'll go and find a better place
than this. Stock can't be quoted so high, after all, if this is
the best prospectus your friend can put up. . . . Why don't you
call?"
I looked at him. I was thinking.
"Well?" he demanded.
"I've changed my mind."
Oh, Mag, Mag, did you ever see the man--ugly as a cannibal he may
be and old as the cannibal's great-grandfather--that couldn't be
persuaded he was a lady-killer?
His manner changed altogether. He plumped down on the lounge and
patted the place beside him invitingly, giving me a wink that was
deadly.
"But, Mrs. Dowager!" I exclaimed coquettishly.
"Oh, that's all right, little one! She hasn't even missed me
yet. When she's playing Bridge she forgets even to be jealous."
"Playing Bridge," I murmured sweetly, "'way off in
Philadelphia, while you, you naughty man--"
Oh, he loved that!
"Not so naughty as--as I'd like to be," he belllowed, heavily
witty. "And she isn't 'way off in Philadelphia either. She's
just round the corner at Mrs. Gates', and--what's the matter?"
"Nothing--nothing. Did she recognize me?"
"Oh, that's what scared you, is it? She didn't recognize you.
Neither did I, till I got that second glimpse of you with your
hat and jacket on. But even if she had--ho! ho! ho! I say; do you
know, you couldn't convince the Bishop and Henrietta, if you'd
talk till doomsday, that that red coat and hat we advertised
weren't taken by a little girl that was daffy. Fact; I swear it!
They admit you took the coat, you little witch, but it was when
you were out of your mind--of course--of course! `The very fact
that she left the coat behind her and took nothing else from the
house shows a mind diseased,' insisted Henrietta. Of course--of
course! `And her coming for no reason at all to your house,' adds
the Bishop. . . . Say, what was the reason?"
Maggie, I'll tell you a hard thing: it isn't when people think
worse of you than you are, but better, that you feel most
uncomfortable. I got pale and sick inside of me at the thought of
my poor little Bishop. I loved him for believing me straight
and--
"I've been dying of curiosity to know what was in your wise
little head that day," he went on. "Oh, it was wise all right;
that wink you gave me was perfectly sane; there was method in
that madness of yours."
"I will tell you, Mr. Ramsay," I said sweetly, "at supper."
"Supper!"
"Yes, the supper you're going to get for me."
His bellowing laughter filled the place. Maggie, our little flat
and our few things don't go well with sounds like that.
"Oh, you're all alike, you women!" he roared. "All right,
supper it is. Where shall we go--Rector's?"
I pouted.
"It's so much more cozy right here," I said. "I'll telephone.
There's Brophy's, just round the corner, and they send in the
loveliest things."
"Oh, they do! Well, tell 'em to begin sending."
I thought he'd follow me out in the hall to the 'phone, but he
was having some trouble in pulling out his purse--to count out
his money, I suppose. I got Central and asked for the number. Oh,
yes, I knew it all right; I had called up that same number once,
already, to-day. Brophy's? Why, Maggie Monahan, you ought to know
there's no Brophy's. At least none that I ever heard about.
With my hand over the mouthpiece, so that nobody heard but
Edward, I ordered a supper fit for a king--or a chorus girl! What
didn't I order! Champagne, broiled lobster, crab meat, stuffed
pimentoes, kirschkaffee--everything I'd ever heard Beryl
Blackburn tell about.
"Say, say," interrupted Edward, coming out after me. "That's
enough of that stuff. Tell him to send in a Scotch and soda
and--what--"
For at that moment the connection was made and I cut in sweetly
with:
"Mrs. Edward Ramsay?--just a minute."
Mag, you should have seen the man's face! It was red, it was
white; it was furious, it was frightened.
I put my hand a moment over the mouthpiece and turned on him
then. "I've got her on the 'phone at Mrs. Gates' house. Shall I
tell your wife where you are, Edward? . . . Just a moment, Mrs.
Ramsay, hold the wire; some one wants to speak with you."
"You little devil!" His voice was thick with rage.
"Yes, you called me that some time ago, but not in that tone.
Quick, now--the door or . . . Waiting, Mrs. Ramsay?"
He moved toward the door.
"How'll I know you won't tell her when I'm gone?" he growled.
"Merely by my saying that I won't," I answered curtly. "You're
in no position to dictate terms; I am."
But I could, without leaving the 'phone, latch the chain on the
door behind him, leaving it half open. So he must have heard the
rest.
"Yes, Mrs. Ramsay, waiting?" I croaked like the driest kind of
hello-girl. "I was mistaken. It was a message left to be
delivered to you--not some one wanting to speak with you. Who am
I? Why, this is Central. Here is the message: `Will be with you
in half an hour.' Signed `Edward.' . . .
Yes, that's right. Thank you. Good night."
I hung up, gave the door a touch that shut it in his face and
went back into the dining-room to throw open the windows. The
place smelled of alcohol; the moral atmosphere left behind by
that bad old man sickened me.
I leaned out and looked at the stars and tried to think of
something sweet and wholesome and strengthening.
"Ah, Nance," I cried to myself with a sob--I had pretended to
take it lightly enough when he was here, but now--"if you had
heard of a girl who, like yourself this evening, unexpectedly met
two men she had known, and the good man ignored her and the bad
one followed her--oh, Nancy--what sort of girl would you think
she was at heart? What sort of hope could you imagine her
treasuring for her own future? And what sort of significance
would you attach to--"
And just then the bell rang again.
This time I was sure it was you. And, O Maggie, I ran to the door
eager for the touch of your hand and the look in your eyes. I was
afraid to be alone with my own thoughts. I was afraid of the
conclusion to which they were leading me. Maggie, if ever a girl
needed comfort and encouragement and heartening, I did then.
And I got it, dear.
For there was a man at the door, with a great basket of
azaleas--pale, pink earth-stars they are, the sweet, innocent
that little pinch-nosed Maude Adams, and dry, corking little Mrs.
Fiske, and Henry Miller when he smooths down his white breeches
lovingly and sings Sally in our Alley, and strutting old
Mansfield, and--
Say, isn't it funny, Mag, that I've seen 'em all and know all
they can do? They've been my college education, that crowd. Not a
bad one, either, when you come to think of what I wanted from it.
They pulled the curtains down at the end and I went back to the
bedroom. I had my hat and jacket on when Mrs. Gates and some of
the younger ladies came to see me there, but I caught no glimpse
of Latimer. You'd think--wouldn't you--that he'd have made an
opportunity to say just one nice word to me in that easy, soft
voice of his? I tried to believe that perhaps he hadn't really
seen me, lying down, as he must have been, or that he hadn't
recognized me, but I knew that I couldn't make myself believe
that; and the lack of just that word from him spoiled all my
satisfaction with myself, and I walked out with Mrs. Gates
through the hall and past the dining-room feeling as hurt as
though I'd deserved that a man like Latimer should notice me.
The dining-room was all lighted, but empty--the colored, shaded
candlesticks glowing down on the cut glass and silver, on
delicate china and flowers. The ladies and gentlemen hadn't come
out to supper yet; at least, only one was there. He was standing
with his back to me, before the sideboard, pouring out a glass of
something from a decanter. He turned at the rustle of my starched
skirt, and, as I passed the door, he saw me. I saw him, too, and
hurried away.
Yes, I knew him. Just you wait.
I got home here earlier than I'd expected, and I'd just got off
my hat and jacket and put away that snug little check when there
came a ring at the bell.
I thought it was you, Mag--that you'd forgotten your key. I was
so sure of it that I pulled the door open wide with a flourish
and--
And admitted--Edward!
Yes, Edward, husband of the Dowager. The same red-faced,
big-necked old fellow, husky-voiced with whisky now, just as he
was before. He must have been keeping it up steadily ever since
the day out in the country when Tom lifted his watch. It'll take
more than one lost watch to cure Edward.
"I--followed you home, Miss Murieson," he said, grabbing me by
the hand and pushing the door closed behind him. "Or is it Miss
Murieson? Which is your stage name, and which your real one? And
have you really learned to remember it? For my part, any old name
will smell as sweet, now that I'm close to the rose."
I jerked my hand away from him.
"I didn't ask you to call," I said, haughty as the Dowager
herself was when first I saw her in her gorgeousparlor, the
Bishop's card in her hand.
"No, I noticed that," he roared jovially. "You skinned out the
front door the moment you saw me. All that was left to me was to
skin after."
"Why?"
"Why!" He slapped his leg as though he'd heard the best joke in
the world. "To renew our acquaintance, of course. To ask you if
you wouldn't like me to buy you a red coat and hat like the one
you left behind you that day over in Philadelphia, when you cut
your visit so short. To insist upon my privilege of relationship.
To call that wink you gave me in the hall that day, you little
devil. Now, don't look at me like that. I say, let's be friends;
won't you?"
"Not for a red coat trimmed with chinchilla," I cried.
He got between me and the door.
"Prices gone up?" he inquired pleasantly. "Who's bulling the stock?"
"Never you mind, so long as his name isn't Ramsay."
"But why shouldn't his name be Ramsay?" he cooed.
"Just because it isn't. I'm expecting a friend. Hadn't you
better go home to Mrs. Dowager Diamonds?"
"Bully! Is that what you call her? No, I'll stay and meet your friend."
"Better not."
"Oh, I'm not afraid. Does he know as much about you as I do?"
"More."
"About your weakness for other girls' coats?"
"Yes."
You do know it all, don't you? And yet you care for me, Maggie
Monahan!
I retreated before him into the dining-room. What in the world to
do to get rid of him!
"I think you'd better go home, Mr. Ramsay," I said again,
decidedly. "If you don't, I'll have to call the janitor to put
you out."
"Call, sweetheart. He'll put you out with me; for I'll tell him
a thing or two about you, and we'll go and find a better place
than this. Stock can't be quoted so high, after all, if this is
the best prospectus your friend can put up. . . . Why don't you
call?"
I looked at him. I was thinking.
"Well?" he demanded.
"I've changed my mind."
Oh, Mag, Mag, did you ever see the man--ugly as a cannibal he may
be and old as the cannibal's great-grandfather--that couldn't be
persuaded he was a lady-killer?
His manner changed altogether. He plumped down on the lounge and
patted the place beside him invitingly, giving me a wink that was
deadly.
"But, Mrs. Dowager!" I exclaimed coquettishly.
"Oh, that's all right, little one! She hasn't even missed me
yet. When she's playing Bridge she forgets even to be jealous."
"Playing Bridge," I murmured sweetly, "'way off in
Philadelphia, while you, you naughty man--"
Oh, he loved that!
"Not so naughty as--as I'd like to be," he belllowed, heavily
witty. "And she isn't 'way off in Philadelphia either. She's
just round the corner at Mrs. Gates', and--what's the matter?"
"Nothing--nothing. Did she recognize me?"
"Oh, that's what scared you, is it? She didn't recognize you.
Neither did I, till I got that second glimpse of you with your
hat and jacket on. But even if she had--ho! ho! ho! I say; do you
know, you couldn't convince the Bishop and Henrietta, if you'd
talk till doomsday, that that red coat and hat we advertised
weren't taken by a little girl that was daffy. Fact; I swear it!
They admit you took the coat, you little witch, but it was when
you were out of your mind--of course--of course! `The very fact
that she left the coat behind her and took nothing else from the
house shows a mind diseased,' insisted Henrietta. Of course--of
course! `And her coming for no reason at all to your house,' adds
the Bishop. . . . Say, what was the reason?"
Maggie, I'll tell you a hard thing: it isn't when people think
worse of you than you are, but better, that you feel most
uncomfortable. I got pale and sick inside of me at the thought of
my poor little Bishop. I loved him for believing me straight
and--
"I've been dying of curiosity to know what was in your wise
little head that day," he went on. "Oh, it was wise all right;
that wink you gave me was perfectly sane; there was method in
that madness of yours."
"I will tell you, Mr. Ramsay," I said sweetly, "at supper."
"Supper!"
"Yes, the supper you're going to get for me."
His bellowing laughter filled the place. Maggie, our little flat
and our few things don't go well with sounds like that.
"Oh, you're all alike, you women!" he roared. "All right,
supper it is. Where shall we go--Rector's?"
I pouted.
"It's so much more cozy right here," I said. "I'll telephone.
There's Brophy's, just round the corner, and they send in the
loveliest things."
"Oh, they do! Well, tell 'em to begin sending."
I thought he'd follow me out in the hall to the 'phone, but he
was having some trouble in pulling out his purse--to count out
his money, I suppose. I got Central and asked for the number. Oh,
yes, I knew it all right; I had called up that same number once,
already, to-day. Brophy's? Why, Maggie Monahan, you ought to know
there's no Brophy's. At least none that I ever heard about.
With my hand over the mouthpiece, so that nobody heard but
Edward, I ordered a supper fit for a king--or a chorus girl! What
didn't I order! Champagne, broiled lobster, crab meat, stuffed
pimentoes, kirschkaffee--everything I'd ever heard Beryl
Blackburn tell about.
"Say, say," interrupted Edward, coming out after me. "That's
enough of that stuff. Tell him to send in a Scotch and soda
and--what--"
For at that moment the connection was made and I cut in sweetly
with:
"Mrs. Edward Ramsay?--just a minute."
Mag, you should have seen the man's face! It was red, it was
white; it was furious, it was frightened.
I put my hand a moment over the mouthpiece and turned on him
then. "I've got her on the 'phone at Mrs. Gates' house. Shall I
tell your wife where you are, Edward? . . . Just a moment, Mrs.
Ramsay, hold the wire; some one wants to speak with you."
"You little devil!" His voice was thick with rage.
"Yes, you called me that some time ago, but not in that tone.
Quick, now--the door or . . . Waiting, Mrs. Ramsay?"
He moved toward the door.
"How'll I know you won't tell her when I'm gone?" he growled.
"Merely by my saying that I won't," I answered curtly. "You're
in no position to dictate terms; I am."
But I could, without leaving the 'phone, latch the chain on the
door behind him, leaving it half open. So he must have heard the
rest.
"Yes, Mrs. Ramsay, waiting?" I croaked like the driest kind of
hello-girl. "I was mistaken. It was a message left to be
delivered to you--not some one wanting to speak with you. Who am
I? Why, this is Central. Here is the message: `Will be with you
in half an hour.' Signed `Edward.' . . .
Yes, that's right. Thank you. Good night."
I hung up, gave the door a touch that shut it in his face and
went back into the dining-room to throw open the windows. The
place smelled of alcohol; the moral atmosphere left behind by
that bad old man sickened me.
I leaned out and looked at the stars and tried to think of
something sweet and wholesome and strengthening.
"Ah, Nance," I cried to myself with a sob--I had pretended to
take it lightly enough when he was here, but now--"if you had
heard of a girl who, like yourself this evening, unexpectedly met
two men she had known, and the good man ignored her and the bad
one followed her--oh, Nancy--what sort of girl would you think
she was at heart? What sort of hope could you imagine her
treasuring for her own future? And what sort of significance
would you attach to--"
And just then the bell rang again.
This time I was sure it was you. And, O Maggie, I ran to the door
eager for the touch of your hand and the look in your eyes. I was
afraid to be alone with my own thoughts. I was afraid of the
conclusion to which they were leading me. Maggie, if ever a girl
needed comfort and encouragement and heartening, I did then.
And I got it, dear.
For there was a man at the door, with a great basket of
azaleas--pale, pink earth-stars they are, the sweet, innocent
- jacket [´dʒækit]
n.茄克衫；外套 (初中英语单词) - rustle [´rʌsl] v.&n.(使)沙沙作响 (初中英语单词)
- steadily [´stedili] ad.坚定地；不断地 (初中英语单词)
- parlor [´pɑ:lə] n.客厅；起居室 (初中英语单词)
- acquaintance [ə´kweintəns] n.相识；熟人，相识的人 (初中英语单词)
- privilege [´privilidʒ] n.特权 vt.给....特权 (初中英语单词)
- weakness [´wi:knis] n.虚弱；弱点，缺点 (初中英语单词)
- altogether [,ɔ:ltə´geðə] ad.完全；总而言之 (初中英语单词)
- glimpse [glimps] n.&v.瞥见 (初中英语单词)
- convince [kən´vins] vt.使确信；使认识错误 (初中英语单词)
- bishop [´biʃəp] n.主教 (初中英语单词)
- curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti] n.好奇；奇事；珍品 (初中英语单词)
- laughter [´lɑ:ftə] n.笑，笑声 (初中英语单词)
- chorus [´kɔ:rəs] n.合唱；齐声 v.合唱 (初中英语单词)
- connection [kə´nekʃən] n.联系；关系；联运 (初中英语单词)
- furious [´fjuəriəs] a.狂怒的；猛烈的 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- alcohol [´ælkəhɔl] n.酒精；醇 (初中英语单词)
- atmosphere [´ætməsfiə] n.大气；空气；气氛 (初中英语单词)
- lightly [´laitli] ad.轻微地，稍微 (初中英语单词)
- attach [ə´tætʃ] v.附；使隶属；使依恋 (初中英语单词)
- innocent [´inəsənt] a.无罪的；单纯的 (初中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- haughty [´hɔ:ti] a.傲慢的，高傲的 (高中英语单词)
- gorgeous [´gɔ:dʒəs] a.华丽的；宜人的 (高中英语单词)
- pleasantly [´plezntli] ad.令人愉快地；舒适地 (高中英语单词)
- sweetheart [´swi:thɑ:t] n.爱人；情人 (高中英语单词)
- sweetly [´swi:tli] ad.甜蜜地；美妙地 (高中英语单词)
- naughty [´nɔ:ti] a.顽皮的；下流的 (高中英语单词)
- perfectly [´pə:fiktli] ad.理想地；完美地 (高中英语单词)
- madness [´mædnis] n.疯狂；狂热 (高中英语单词)
- scotch [skɔtʃ] vt.&n.刻痕(于)；划伤 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- dictate [dik´teit] v.口授；指示，命令 (高中英语单词)
- mistaken [mis´teikən] mistake的过去分词 (高中英语单词)
- wholesome [´həulsəm] a.有益于健康的 (高中英语单词)
- encouragement [in´kʌridʒmənt] n.鼓励；赞助；引诱 (高中英语单词)
- miller [´milə] n.磨坊主；铣床(工) (英语四级单词)
- lounge [laundʒ] n.懒洋洋的姿势；闲逛 (英语四级单词)
- bridge [bridʒ] n.桥(梁)；鼻梁；桥牌 (英语四级单词)
- lobster [´lɔbstə] n.龙虾(肉) (英语四级单词)
- unexpectedly [´ʌniks´pektidli] ad.意外地；突然地 (英语四级单词)
- cannibal [´kænibəl] n.吃同类动物的 (英语六级单词)
- champagne [ʃæm´pein] n.香槟酒；微黄色 (英语六级单词)
- wanting [´wɔntiŋ, wɑ:n-] a.短缺的；不足的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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