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The Arrow of Gold-Part26_JOSEPH CONRAD (1857-1924)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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them like a marvellous child, and for the rest what can they say



about her? That when abandoned to herself by the death of Allegre

she has made a mistake? I think that any woman ought to be allowed



one mistake in her life. The worst they can say of her is that she

discovered it, that she had sent away a man in love directly she



found out that his love was not worth having; that she had told him

to go and look for his crown, and that, after dismissing him she



had remained generouslyfaithful to his cause, in her person and

fortune. And this, you will allow, is rather uncommon upon the



whole."

"You make her out very magnificent," I murmured, looking down upon



the floor.

"Isn't she?" exclaimed the aristocratic Mrs. Blunt, with an almost



youthful ingenuousness, and in those black eyes which looked at me

so calmly there was a flash of the Southern beauty, still naive and



romantic, as if altogetheruntouched by experience. "I don't think

there is a single grain of vulgarity in all her enchanting person.



Neither is there in my son. I suppose you won't deny that he is

uncommon." She paused.



"Absolutely," I said in a perfectlyconventional tone, I was now on

my mettle that she should not discover what there was humanly



common in my nature. She took my answer at her own valuation and

was satisfied.



"They can't fail to understand each other on the very highest level

of idealistic perceptions. Can you imagine my John thrown away on



some enamoured white goose out of a stuffy old salon? Why, she

couldn't even begin to understand what he feels or what he needs."



"Yes," I said impenetrably, "he is not easy to understand."

"I have reason to think," she said with a suppressed smile, "that



he has a certain power over women. Of course I don't know anything

about his intimate life but a whisper or two have reached me, like



that, floating in the air, and I could hardly suppose that he would

find an exceptionalresistance in that quarter of all others. But



I should like to know the exact degree."

I disregarded an annoyingtendency to feel dizzy that came over me



and was very careful in managing my voice.

"May I ask, Madame, why you are telling me all this?"



"For two reasons," she condescended graciously. "First of all

because Mr. Mills told me that you were much more mature than one



would expect. In fact you look much younger than I was prepared

for."



"Madame," I interrupted her, "I may have a certain capacity for

action and for responsibility, but as to the regions into which



this very unexpected conversation has taken me I am a great novice.

They are outside my interest. I have had no experience."



"Don't make yourself out so hopeless," she said in a spoilt-beauty

tone. "You have your intuitions. At any rate you have a pair of



eyes. You are everlastingly over there, so I understand. Surely

you have seen how far they are . . ."



I interrupted again and this time bitterly, but always in a tone of

polite enquiry:



"You think her facile, Madame?"

She looked offended. "I think her most fastidious. It is my son



who is in question here."

And I understood then that she looked on her son as irresistible.



For my part I was just beginning to think that it would be

impossible for me to wait for his return. I figured him to myself



lying dressed on his bed sleeping like a stone. But there was no

denying that the mother was holding me with an awful, tortured



interest. Twice Therese had opened the door, had put her small

head in and drawn it back like a tortoise. But for some time I had



lost the sense of us two being quite alone in the studio. I had

perceived the familiar dummy in its corner but it lay now on the



floor as if Therese had knocked it down angrily with a broom for a

heathen idol. It lay there prostrate, handless, without its head,



pathetic, like the mangled victim of a crime.




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