酷兔英语

章节正文
文章总共2页
nearer to her to see if she sobbed for weeping or for want of

breath. "What are we to do now?" her voice asked.



"Are you tired?" he asked.

"I will do what has to be done."



The two black figures in the broken light were silent for a

space. "Do you know," she said, "I am not afraid of you. I am



sure you are honest to me. And I do not even know your name!"

He was taken with a sudden shame of his homely patronymic. "It's



an ugly name," he said. "But you are right in trusting me. I

would--I would do anything for you. . . . This is nothing."



She caught at her breath. She did not care to ask why. But

compared with Bechamel!--"We take each other on trust," she said.



"Do you want to know--how things are with me?"

"That man," she went on, after the assent of his listening



silence, "promised to help and protect me. I was unhappy at

home--never mind why. A stepmother--Idle, unoccupied, hindered,



cramped, that is enough, perhaps. Then he came into my life, and

talked to me of art and literature, and set my brain on fire. I



wanted to come out into the world, to be a human being--not a

thing in a hutch. And he--"



"I know," said Hoopdriver.

"And now here I am--"



"I will do anything," said Hoopdriver.

She thought. "You cannot imagine my stepmother. No! I could not



describe her--"

"I am entirely at your service. I will help you with all my



power."

"I have lost an Illusion and found a Knight-errant." She spoke of



Bechamel as the Illusion.

Mr. Hoopdriver felt flattered. But he had no adequate answer.



"I'm thinking," he said, full of a rapture of protective

responsibility, " what we had best be doing. You are tired, you



know. And we can't wander all night--after the day we've had."

"That was Chichester we were near?" she asked.



"If," he meditated, with a tremble in his voice, "you would make

ME your brother, MISS BEAUMONT."



"Yes?"

"We could stop there together--"



She took a minute to answer. "I am going to light these lamps,"

said Hoopdriver. He bent down to his own, and struck a match on



his shoe. She looked at his face in its light, grave and intent.

How could she ever have thought him common or absurd?



"But you must tell me your name--brother," she said,

"Er--Carrington," said Mr. Hoopdriver, after a momentary pause.



Who would be Hoopdriver on a night like this?

"But the Christian name?"



"Christian name? MY Christian name. Well--Chris." He snapped his

lamp and stood up. "If you will hold my machine, I will light



yours," he said.

She came round obediently and took his machine, and for a moment



they stood face to face. "My name, brother Chris," she said, "is

Jessie."



He looked into her eyes, and his excitement seemed arrested.

"JESSIE," he repeated slowly. The mute emotion of his face



affected her strangely. She had to speak. "It's not such a very

wonderful name, is it?" she said, with a laugh to break the



intensity.

He opened his mouth and shut it again, and, with a sudden wincing



of his features, abruptly" target="_blank" title="ad.突然地;粗鲁地">abruptly turned and bent down to open the

lantern in front of her machine. She looked down at him, almost



kneeling in front of her, with an unreasonable approbation in her

eyes. It was, as I have indicated, the hour and season of the



full moon.

XXV



Mr. Hoopdriver conducted the rest of that night's journey with

the same confidentdignity as before, and it was chiefly by good



luck and the fact that most roads about a town converge

thereupon, that Chichester was at last attained. It seemed at



first as though everyone had gone to bed, but the Red Hotel still




文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文