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第110章

[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第110章


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progress; as if her mind were fixed upon a point in front 
of them; and marked; second by second; their approach 
to it。 She said nothing; and in silence Mary began to fix 
her mind; in sympathy at first; and later in forgetfulness 
of her panion; upon a point in front of them。 She 
imagined a point distant as a low star upon the horizon 
of the dark。 There for her too; for them both; was the 
goal for which they were striving; and the end for the 
ardors of their spirits was the same: but where it was; or 
what it was; or why she felt convinced that they were 
united in search of it; as they drove swiftly down the 
streets of London side by side; she could not have said。 

“At last;” Katharine breathed; as the cab drew up at the 
door。 She jumped out and scanned the pavement on either 
side。 Mary; meanwhile; rang the bell。 The door opened 
as Katharine assured herself that no one of the people 
within view had any likeness to Ralph。 On seeing her; the 
maid said at once: 

“Mr。 Denham called again; miss。 He has been waiting 
for you for some time。” 

Katharine vanished from Mary’s sight。 The door shut 
between them; and Mary walked slowly and thoughtfully 
up the street alone。 

Katharine turned at once to the diningroom。 But with 
her fingers upon the handle; she held back。 Perhaps she 
realized that this was a moment which would never e 
again。 Perhaps; for a second; it seemed to her that no 
reality could equal the imagination she had formed。 Perhaps 
she was restrained by some vague fear or anticipation; 
which made her dread any exchange or interruption。 
But if these doubts and fears or this supreme bliss 
restrained her; it was only for a moment。 In another second 
she had turned the handle and; biting her lip to 
control herself; she opened the door upon Ralph Denham。 
An extraordinary clearness of sight seemed to possess 
her on beholding him。 So little; so single; so separate 
from all else he appeared; who had been the cause of 
these extreme agitations and aspirations。 She could have 
laughed in his face。 But; gaining upon this clearness of 
sight against her will; and to her dislike; was a flood of 
confusion; of relief; of certainty; of humility; of desire no 

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longer to strive and to discriminate; yielding to which; 
she let herself sink within his arms and confessed her 
love。 

CHAPTER XXXII 


Nobody asked Katharine any questions next day。 If cross
examined she might have said that nobody spoke to her。 
She worked a little; wrote a little; ordered the dinner; and 
sat; for longer than she knew; with her head on her hand 
piercing whatever lay before her; whether it was a letter 
or a dictionary; as if it were a film upon the deep prospects 
that revealed themselves to her kindling and brooding 
eyes。 She rose once; and going to the bookcase; took 
out her father’s Greek dictionary and spread the sacred 
pages of symbols and figures before her。 She smoothed 
the sheets with a mixture of affectionate amusement and 
hope。 Would other eyes look on them with her one day? 
The thought; long intolerable; was now just bearable。 

She was quite unaware of the anxiety with which her 
movements were watched and her expression scanned。 
Cassandra was careful not to be caught looking at her; 
and their conversation was so prosaic that were it not for 
certain jolts and jerks between the sentences; as if the 
mind were kept with difficulty to the rails; Mrs。 Milvain 

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Virginia Woolf 

herself could have detected nothing of a suspicious nature 
in what she overheard。 

William; when he came in late that afternoon and found 
Cassandra alone; had a very serious piece of news to impart。 
He had just passed Katharine in the street and she 
had failed to recognize him。 

“That doesn’t matter with me; of course; but suppose it 
happened with somebody else? What would they think? 
They would suspect something merely from her expression。 
She looked—she looked”—he hesitated—”like some 
one walking in her sleep。” 

To Cassandra the significant thing was that Katharine 
had gone out without telling her; and she interpreted 
this to mean that she had gone out to meet Ralph Denham。 
But to her surprise William drew no fort from this 
probability。 

“Once throw conventions aside;” he began; “once do 
the things that people don’t do—” and the fact that you 
are going to meet a young man is no longer proof of 
anything; except; indeed; that people will talk。 

Cassandra saw; not without a pang of jealousy; that he 

was extremely solicitous that people should not talk about 
Katharine; as if his interest in her were still proprietary 
rather than friendly。 As they were both ignorant of Ralph’s 
visit the night before they had not that reason to fort 
themselves with the thought that matters were hastening 
to a crisis。 These absences of Katharine’s; moreover; 
left them exposed to interruptions which almost 
destroyed their pleasure in being alone together。 The rainy 
evening made it impossible to go out; and; indeed; according 
to William’s code; it was considerably more damning 
to be seen out of doors than surprised within。 They 
were so much at the mercy of bells and doors that they 
could hardly talk of Macaulay with any conviction; and 
William preferred to defer the second act of his tragedy 
until another day。 

Under these circumstances Cassandra showed herself at 
her best。 She sympathized with William’s anxieties and 
did her utmost to share them; but still; to be alone together; 
to be running risks together; to be partners in the 
wonderful conspiracy; was to her so enthralling that she 
was always forgetting discretion; breaking out into ex


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clamations and admirations which finally made William 
believe that; although deplorable and upsetting; the situation 
was not without its sweetness。 

When the door did open; he started; but braved the 
forthing revelation。 It was not Mrs。 Milvain; however; 
but Katharine herself who entered; closely followed 
by Ralph Denham。 With a set expression which showed 
what an effort she was making; Katharine encountered 
their eyes; and saying; “We’re not going to interrupt you;” 
she led Denham behind the curtain which hung in front 
of the room with the relics。 This refuge was none of her 
willing; but confronted with wet pavements and only some 
belated museum or Tube station for shelter; she was forced; 
for Ralph’s sake; to face the disforts of her own house。 
Under the street lamps she had thought him looking both 
tired and strained。 

Thus separated; the two couples remained occupied for 
some time with their own affairs。 Only the lowest murmurs 
perated from one section of the room to the 
other。 At length the maid came in to bring a message 
that Mr。 Hilbery would not be home for dinner。 It was 

true that there was no need that Katharine should be 
informed; but William began to inquire Cassandra’s opinion 
in such a way as to show that; with or without reason; 
he wished very much to speak to her。 

From motives of her own Cassandra dissuaded him。 

“But don’t you think it’s a little unsociable?” he 
hazarded。 “Why not do something amusing?—go to the 
play; for instance? Why not ask Katharine and Ralph; eh?” 
The coupling of their names in this manner caused 
Cassandra’s heart to leap with pleasure。 

“Don’t you think they must be—?” she began; but William 
hastily took her up。 

“Oh; I know nothing about that。 I only thought we 
might amuse ourselves; as your uncle’s out。” 

He proceeded on his embassy with a mixture of excitement 
and embarrassment which caused him to turn aside 
with his hand on the curtain; and to examine intently for 
several moments the portrait of a lady; optimistically said 
by Mrs。 Hilbery to be an early work of Sir Joshua Reynolds。 
Then; with some unnecessary fumbling; he drew aside 
the curtain; and with his eyes fixed upon the ground; 

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Virginia Woolf 

repeated his message and suggested that they should all 
spend the evening at the play。 Katharine 

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