章节正文
Moriway's eyes full upon me.
"Great--!" he began.
"Just ring again--" Mr. Latimer's voice came soft as silk.
My fingers trembled so, the bell clattered out of them and fell
jangling to the ground. But it rang. And the light above me went
out like magic. I fell back into a garden chair.
"I beg your pardon, Mr.--was Moriway the name?--I must have
interrupted you, but my eyes are troubling me this evening, and I
can't bear the light. Miss Omar, I thought the housekeeper had
instructed you: one ring means lights, two mean I want Burnett.
Here he comes. . . Burnett, take Sergeant Mulhill through the
place. He's looking for a thief. You will accompany the Sergeant,
Mr.--Moriway?"
"Thank you--no. If you don't mind, I'll wait out here."
That meant me. I moved toward the gate.
"Not at all. Have a seat. Miss Omar, sit down, won't you?" I
sat down.
"Miss Omar reads to me, Mr. Moriway. I'm an invalid, as you see,
dependent on the good offices of my man. I find a woman's voice a
soothing change."
"It must be. Particularly if the voice is pleasing. Miss Omar--I
didn't quite catch the name--"
He waited. But Miss Omar had nothing to say that minute.
"Yes, that's the name. You've got it all right," said Latimer.
"An uncommon name, isn't it?"
"I don't think I ever heard it before. Do you know, Miss Omar,
as I heard your voice just before we got to the gate, it sounded
singularly boyish to me."
"Mr. Latimer does not find it so--do you?" I said as sweet--as
sweet as I could coax. How sweet's that, Tom Dorgan?
"Not at all." A little laugh came from Latimer as though he was
enjoying a joke all by himself. But Moriway jumped with
satisfaction. He knew the voice all right.
"Have you a brother, may I ask?" He leaned over and looked
keenly at me.
"I am an orphan," I said sadly, "with no relatives."
"A pitiful position," sneered Moriway. "You look so much like
a boy I know that--"
"Do you really think so?" So awfullypolite was Latimer to such
a rat as Moriway. Why? Well, wait. "I can't agree with you. Do
you know, I find Miss Omar very feminine. Of course, short
hair--"
"Her hair is short, then!"
"Typhoid," I murmured.
"Too bad!" Moriway sneered.
"Yes," I snapped. "I thought it was at the time. My hair was
very heavy and long, and I had a chance to sit in a window at
Troyon's where they were advertising a hair tonic and--"
Rotten? Of course it was. I'd no business to gabble, and just
because you and your new job, Mag, came to my mind at that
minute, there I went putting my foot in it.
Moriway laughed. I didn't like the sound of his laugh.
"Your reader is versatile, Mr. Latimer," he said.
"Yes." Latimer smoothed the soft silk rug that lay over him.
"Poverty and that sort of versatility are often bedfellows, eh?
. . . Tell me, Mr. Moriway, these lost diamonds are yours?"
"No. They belong to a--a friend of mine, Mrs. Kingdon."
"Oh! the old lady who was married this afternoon to a young
fortune-hunter!" I couldn't resist it.
Moriway jumped out of his seat.
"She was not married," he stuttered. "She--"
"Changed her mind? How sensible of her! Did she find out what a
crook the fellow was? What was his name--Morrison?
No--Middleway--I have heard it."
"May I ask, Miss Omar"--I didn't have to see his face; his
voice told how mad with rage he was--"how you come to be
acquainted with a matter that only the contracting parties could
possibly know of?"
"Why, they can't have kept it very secret, the old lady and the
young rascal who was after her money, for you see we both knew of
it; and I wasn't the bride and you certainly weren't the groom,
were you?"
An exclamation burst from him.
"Mr. Latimer," he stormed, "may I see you a moment alone?"
Phew! That meant me. But I got up just the same.
"Just keep your seat, Miss Omar." Oh, that silken voice of
Latimer's! "Mr. Moriway, I have absolutely no acquaintance with
you. I never saw you till to-night. I can't imagine what you may
have to say to me, that my secretary--Miss Omar acts in that
capacity--may not hear."
"I want to say," burst from Moriway, "that she looks the image
of the boy Nat, who stole Mrs. Kingdon's diamonds, that the voice
is exactly the same, that--"
"But you have said it, Mr. Moriway--quite successfully intimated
it, I assure you."
"She knows of my--of Mrs. Kingdon's marriage, that that boy Nat
found out about."
"And you yourself also, as Miss Omar mentioned."
"Myself? Damn it, I'm Moriway, the man she was going to marry.
Why shouldn't I--"
"Ah--h!" Latimer's shoulders shook with a gentle laugh. "Well,
Mr. Moriway, gentlemen don't swear in my garden. Particularly
when ladies are present. Shall we say good evening? Here comes
Mulhill now. . . . Nothing, Sergeant? Too bad the rogue escaped,
but you'll catch him. They may get away from you, but they never
stay long, do they? Good evening--good evening, Mr. Moriway."
They tramped on and out, Moriway's very back showing his rage. He
whispered something to the Sergeant, who turned to look at me but
shook his head, and the gate clanged after them.
A long sigh escaped me.
"Warm, isn't it?" Latimer leaned forward. "Now, would you mind
ringing again, Miss Omar?"
I bent and groped for the bell and rang it twice.
"How quick you are to learn!" he said. "But I really wanted
the light this time. . . . Just light up, Burnett," he called to
the man, who had come out on the porch.
The electric bulb flashed out again just over my head. Latimer
turned and looked at me. When I couldn't bear it any longer, I
looked defiantly up at him.
"Pardon," he said, smiling; nice teeth he has and clear eyes.
"I was just looking for that boyishresemblance Mr. Moriway
spoke of. I hold to my first opinion--you're very feminine, Miss
Omar. Will you read to me now, if you please?" He pointed to a
big open book on the table beside his couch.
"I think--if you don't mind, Mr. Latimer, I'll begin the reading
to-morrow." I got up to go. I was through with that garden now.
"But I do mind!"
Silken voice? Not a bit of it! I turned on him so furious I
thought I didn't care what came of it--when over by the great
gate-post I saw a man crouching--Moriway.
I sat down again and pulled the book farther toward the light.
We didn't learn much poetry at the Cruelty, did we, Mag? But I
know some now, just the same. When I began to read I heard only
one word--Moriway--Moriway--Moriway. But I must have--forgotten
him after a time, and the dark garden with the light on only one
spot, and the roses smelling, and Latimer lying perfectly still,
his face turned toward me, for I was reading--listen, I bet I can
remember that part of it if I say it slow--
Oh, Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make,
And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake:
For all the sin wherewith the Face of Man
Is blacken'd--Man's forgiveness give--and take!
--when all at once Mr. Latimer put his hand on the book. I looked
up with a start. The shadow by the gate was gone.
Yon rising Moon that looks for us again---
How oft hereafter will she wax and wane;
How oft hereafter rising look for us
Through this same Garden--and for ONE in vain!
Latimer was saying it without the book and with a queer smile
that made me feel I hadn't quite caught on.
"Thank you, that will do," he went on. "That is enough,
Miss--" He stopped.
I waited.
He did not say "Omar."
I looked him square in the eye--and then I had enough.
"But what in the devil did you make believe for?" I asked.
He smiled.
"If ever you come to lie on your back day and night, year in and
year out, and know that never in your life will it be any
different, you may take pleasure in a bit of excitement and--and
learn to pity the under dog, who, in this case, happened to be a
boy that leaped over the gate as though his heart was in his
mouth. Just as you would admire the nerve of the young lady that
came out of the house a few minutes after in your housekeeper's
Sunday gown."
Yes, grin, Torn Dorgan. You won't grin long.
I put down the book and got up to go.
"Good night, then, and thank you, Mr. Latimer."
"Good night. . . . Oh, Miss--" He didn't say "Omar"--"there
is a favor you might do me."
"Sure!" I wondered what it could be.
"Those diamonds. I've got to have them, you know, to send them
back to their owner. I don't mind helping a--a person who helps
himself to other people's things, but I can't let him get away
with his plunder without being that kind of person myself. So--"
Why didn't I lie? Because there are some people you don't lie to,
Tom Dorgan. Don't talk to me, you bully, I'm savage enough. To
have rings and pins and ear-rings, a whole bagful of diamonds,
and to haul 'em out of your pocket and lay 'em on the table there
before him!
"I wonder," he said slowly, as he put them away in his own
pocket, "what a man like me could do for a girl like you?"
"Reform her!" I snarled. "Show her how to get diamonds honestly."
Say, Tom, let's go in for bigger game.
III.
Oh, Mag, Mag, for heaven's sake, let me talk to you! No, don't
say anything. You must let me tell you. No--don't call the other
girls. I can't bear to tell this to anybody but you.
You know how I kicked when Tom hit on Latimer's as the place we
were to scuttle. And the harder I kicked the stubborner he got,
till he swore he'd do the job without me if I wouldn't come
along. Well--this is the rest of it.
The house, you know, stands at the end of the street. If you
could walk through the garden with the iron fence you'd come
right down the bluff on to the docks and out into East River. Tom
and I came up to it from the docks last night. It was dark and
wet, you remember. The mud was thick on my trousers--Nance
Olden's a boy every time when it comes to doing business.
"We'll blow it all in, Tom," I said, as we climbed. "We'll
spend a week at the Waldorf, and then, Tom Dorgan, we'll go to
Paris. I want a red coat and hat with chinchilla, like that dear
one I lost, and a low-neck satin gown, and a silk petticoat with
lace, and a chain with rhinestones, and--"
"Just wait, Sis, till you get out of this. And keep still."
"I can't. I'm so fidgety I must talk or I'll shriek."
"Well, you'll shut up just the same. Do you hear me?"
I shut up, but my teeth chattered so that Tom stopped at the
gate.
"Look here, Nance, are you going to flunk? Say it now--yes or
no."
That made me mad.
"Great--!" he began.
"Just ring again--" Mr. Latimer's voice came soft as silk.
My fingers trembled so, the bell clattered out of them and fell
jangling to the ground. But it rang. And the light above me went
out like magic. I fell back into a garden chair.
"I beg your pardon, Mr.--was Moriway the name?--I must have
interrupted you, but my eyes are troubling me this evening, and I
can't bear the light. Miss Omar, I thought the housekeeper had
instructed you: one ring means lights, two mean I want Burnett.
Here he comes. . . Burnett, take Sergeant Mulhill through the
place. He's looking for a thief. You will accompany the Sergeant,
Mr.--Moriway?"
"Thank you--no. If you don't mind, I'll wait out here."
That meant me. I moved toward the gate.
"Not at all. Have a seat. Miss Omar, sit down, won't you?" I
sat down.
"Miss Omar reads to me, Mr. Moriway. I'm an invalid, as you see,
dependent on the good offices of my man. I find a woman's voice a
soothing change."
"It must be. Particularly if the voice is pleasing. Miss Omar--I
didn't quite catch the name--"
He waited. But Miss Omar had nothing to say that minute.
"Yes, that's the name. You've got it all right," said Latimer.
"An uncommon name, isn't it?"
"I don't think I ever heard it before. Do you know, Miss Omar,
as I heard your voice just before we got to the gate, it sounded
singularly boyish to me."
"Mr. Latimer does not find it so--do you?" I said as sweet--as
sweet as I could coax. How sweet's that, Tom Dorgan?
"Not at all." A little laugh came from Latimer as though he was
enjoying a joke all by himself. But Moriway jumped with
satisfaction. He knew the voice all right.
"Have you a brother, may I ask?" He leaned over and looked
keenly at me.
"I am an orphan," I said sadly, "with no relatives."
"A pitiful position," sneered Moriway. "You look so much like
a boy I know that--"
"Do you really think so?" So awfullypolite was Latimer to such
a rat as Moriway. Why? Well, wait. "I can't agree with you. Do
you know, I find Miss Omar very feminine. Of course, short
hair--"
"Her hair is short, then!"
"Typhoid," I murmured.
"Too bad!" Moriway sneered.
"Yes," I snapped. "I thought it was at the time. My hair was
very heavy and long, and I had a chance to sit in a window at
Troyon's where they were advertising a hair tonic and--"
Rotten? Of course it was. I'd no business to gabble, and just
because you and your new job, Mag, came to my mind at that
minute, there I went putting my foot in it.
Moriway laughed. I didn't like the sound of his laugh.
"Your reader is versatile, Mr. Latimer," he said.
"Yes." Latimer smoothed the soft silk rug that lay over him.
"Poverty and that sort of versatility are often bedfellows, eh?
. . . Tell me, Mr. Moriway, these lost diamonds are yours?"
"No. They belong to a--a friend of mine, Mrs. Kingdon."
"Oh! the old lady who was married this afternoon to a young
fortune-hunter!" I couldn't resist it.
Moriway jumped out of his seat.
"She was not married," he stuttered. "She--"
"Changed her mind? How sensible of her! Did she find out what a
crook the fellow was? What was his name--Morrison?
No--Middleway--I have heard it."
"May I ask, Miss Omar"--I didn't have to see his face; his
voice told how mad with rage he was--"how you come to be
acquainted with a matter that only the contracting parties could
possibly know of?"
"Why, they can't have kept it very secret, the old lady and the
young rascal who was after her money, for you see we both knew of
it; and I wasn't the bride and you certainly weren't the groom,
were you?"
An exclamation burst from him.
"Mr. Latimer," he stormed, "may I see you a moment alone?"
Phew! That meant me. But I got up just the same.
"Just keep your seat, Miss Omar." Oh, that silken voice of
Latimer's! "Mr. Moriway, I have absolutely no acquaintance with
you. I never saw you till to-night. I can't imagine what you may
have to say to me, that my secretary--Miss Omar acts in that
capacity--may not hear."
"I want to say," burst from Moriway, "that she looks the image
of the boy Nat, who stole Mrs. Kingdon's diamonds, that the voice
is exactly the same, that--"
"But you have said it, Mr. Moriway--quite successfully intimated
it, I assure you."
"She knows of my--of Mrs. Kingdon's marriage, that that boy Nat
found out about."
"And you yourself also, as Miss Omar mentioned."
"Myself? Damn it, I'm Moriway, the man she was going to marry.
Why shouldn't I--"
"Ah--h!" Latimer's shoulders shook with a gentle laugh. "Well,
Mr. Moriway, gentlemen don't swear in my garden. Particularly
when ladies are present. Shall we say good evening? Here comes
Mulhill now. . . . Nothing, Sergeant? Too bad the rogue escaped,
but you'll catch him. They may get away from you, but they never
stay long, do they? Good evening--good evening, Mr. Moriway."
They tramped on and out, Moriway's very back showing his rage. He
whispered something to the Sergeant, who turned to look at me but
shook his head, and the gate clanged after them.
A long sigh escaped me.
"Warm, isn't it?" Latimer leaned forward. "Now, would you mind
ringing again, Miss Omar?"
I bent and groped for the bell and rang it twice.
"How quick you are to learn!" he said. "But I really wanted
the light this time. . . . Just light up, Burnett," he called to
the man, who had come out on the porch.
The electric bulb flashed out again just over my head. Latimer
turned and looked at me. When I couldn't bear it any longer, I
looked defiantly up at him.
"Pardon," he said, smiling; nice teeth he has and clear eyes.
"I was just looking for that boyishresemblance Mr. Moriway
spoke of. I hold to my first opinion--you're very feminine, Miss
Omar. Will you read to me now, if you please?" He pointed to a
big open book on the table beside his couch.
"I think--if you don't mind, Mr. Latimer, I'll begin the reading
to-morrow." I got up to go. I was through with that garden now.
"But I do mind!"
Silken voice? Not a bit of it! I turned on him so furious I
thought I didn't care what came of it--when over by the great
gate-post I saw a man crouching--Moriway.
I sat down again and pulled the book farther toward the light.
We didn't learn much poetry at the Cruelty, did we, Mag? But I
know some now, just the same. When I began to read I heard only
one word--Moriway--Moriway--Moriway. But I must have--forgotten
him after a time, and the dark garden with the light on only one
spot, and the roses smelling, and Latimer lying perfectly still,
his face turned toward me, for I was reading--listen, I bet I can
remember that part of it if I say it slow--
Oh, Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make,
And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake:
For all the sin wherewith the Face of Man
Is blacken'd--Man's forgiveness give--and take!
--when all at once Mr. Latimer put his hand on the book. I looked
up with a start. The shadow by the gate was gone.
Yon rising Moon that looks for us again---
How oft hereafter will she wax and wane;
How oft hereafter rising look for us
Through this same Garden--and for ONE in vain!
Latimer was saying it without the book and with a queer smile
that made me feel I hadn't quite caught on.
"Thank you, that will do," he went on. "That is enough,
Miss--" He stopped.
I waited.
He did not say "Omar."
I looked him square in the eye--and then I had enough.
"But what in the devil did you make believe for?" I asked.
He smiled.
"If ever you come to lie on your back day and night, year in and
year out, and know that never in your life will it be any
different, you may take pleasure in a bit of excitement and--and
learn to pity the under dog, who, in this case, happened to be a
boy that leaped over the gate as though his heart was in his
mouth. Just as you would admire the nerve of the young lady that
came out of the house a few minutes after in your housekeeper's
Sunday gown."
Yes, grin, Torn Dorgan. You won't grin long.
I put down the book and got up to go.
"Good night, then, and thank you, Mr. Latimer."
"Good night. . . . Oh, Miss--" He didn't say "Omar"--"there
is a favor you might do me."
"Sure!" I wondered what it could be.
"Those diamonds. I've got to have them, you know, to send them
back to their owner. I don't mind helping a--a person who helps
himself to other people's things, but I can't let him get away
with his plunder without being that kind of person myself. So--"
Why didn't I lie? Because there are some people you don't lie to,
Tom Dorgan. Don't talk to me, you bully, I'm savage enough. To
have rings and pins and ear-rings, a whole bagful of diamonds,
and to haul 'em out of your pocket and lay 'em on the table there
before him!
"I wonder," he said slowly, as he put them away in his own
pocket, "what a man like me could do for a girl like you?"
"Reform her!" I snarled. "Show her how to get diamonds honestly."
Say, Tom, let's go in for bigger game.
III.
Oh, Mag, Mag, for heaven's sake, let me talk to you! No, don't
say anything. You must let me tell you. No--don't call the other
girls. I can't bear to tell this to anybody but you.
You know how I kicked when Tom hit on Latimer's as the place we
were to scuttle. And the harder I kicked the stubborner he got,
till he swore he'd do the job without me if I wouldn't come
along. Well--this is the rest of it.
The house, you know, stands at the end of the street. If you
could walk through the garden with the iron fence you'd come
right down the bluff on to the docks and out into East River. Tom
and I came up to it from the docks last night. It was dark and
wet, you remember. The mud was thick on my trousers--Nance
Olden's a boy every time when it comes to doing business.
"We'll blow it all in, Tom," I said, as we climbed. "We'll
spend a week at the Waldorf, and then, Tom Dorgan, we'll go to
Paris. I want a red coat and hat with chinchilla, like that dear
one I lost, and a low-neck satin gown, and a silk petticoat with
lace, and a chain with rhinestones, and--"
"Just wait, Sis, till you get out of this. And keep still."
"I can't. I'm so fidgety I must talk or I'll shriek."
"Well, you'll shut up just the same. Do you hear me?"
I shut up, but my teeth chattered so that Tom stopped at the
gate.
"Look here, Nance, are you going to flunk? Say it now--yes or
no."
That made me mad.
- pardon [´pɑ:dən]
n.&vt.原谅；饶恕；赦免 (初中英语单词) - polite [pə´lait] a.有礼貌的；温和的 (初中英语单词)
- advertising [´ædvətaiziŋ] n.广告a.广告的 (初中英语单词)
- resist [ri´zist] v.抵抗；对抗；抵制 (初中英语单词)
- sensible [´sensəbəl] a.感觉得到的 (初中英语单词)
- absolutely [´æbsəlu:tli] ad.绝对地；确实 (初中英语单词)
- acquaintance [ə´kweintəns] n.相识；熟人，相识的人 (初中英语单词)
- pointed [´pɔintid] a.尖(锐)的；中肯的 (初中英语单词)
- furious [´fjuəriəs] a.狂怒的；猛烈的 (初中英语单词)
- poetry [´pəuitri] n.诗；诗意 (初中英语单词)
- paradise [´pærədais] n.天堂；乐园 (初中英语单词)
- excitement [ik´saitmənt] n.兴奋；骚动；煽动 (初中英语单词)
- savage [´sævidʒ] a.野蛮的 n.蛮人 (初中英语单词)
- housekeeper [´haus,ki:pə] n.主妇，女管家 (高中英语单词)
- sergeant [´sɑ:dʒənt] n.警官；军士 (高中英语单词)
- pleasing [´pli:ziŋ] a.使人愉快的；合意的 (高中英语单词)
- pitiful [´pitifəl] a.可怜的；慈悲的 (高中英语单词)
- awfully [´ɔ:fuli] ad.令人畏惧地 (高中英语单词)
- rascal [´rɑ:skəl] n.流氓 (高中英语单词)
- silken [´silkən] a.丝制的；柔软光滑的 (高中英语单词)
- successfully [sək´sesfəli] ad.成功地 (高中英语单词)
- resemblance [ri´zembləns] n.类似；肖像；外表 (高中英语单词)
- cruelty [´kru:əlti] n.残忍；残酷行为 (高中英语单词)
- perfectly [´pə:fiktli] ad.理想地；完美地 (高中英语单词)
- devise [di´vaiz] vt.设计，发明 (高中英语单词)
- forgiveness [fə´givnis] n.原谅，饶恕；宽仁 (高中英语单词)
- hereafter [hiər´ɑ:ftə] ad.&n.将来；来世 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- plunder [´plʌndə] v.&n.掠夺；盗窃 (高中英语单词)
- invalid [in´vælid] n.病人 a.无效的 (英语四级单词)
- uncommon [ʌn´kɔmən] a.非常的，非凡的，罕见的 (英语四级单词)
- boyish [´bɔiiʃ] a.少年的；幼稚的 (英语四级单词)
- feminine [´feminin] a.女性的 (英语四级单词)
- exclamation [,eksklə´meiʃən] n.喊(惊)叫；感叹词 (英语四级单词)
- petticoat [´petikəut] n.裙子 a.女性的 (英语四级单词)
- wherewith [wɛə´wiθ] ad.用什么；用以 (英语六级单词)
- scuttle [´skʌtl] n.煤桶；天窗 vi.奔逃 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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