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第112章

[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第112章


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lawyer。 Upon this; the third day of junketing; it was tiresome 
to have to restrain oneself even from such innocent 
excursions of fancy。 She dared not question William; he was 
inscrutable; he never seemed even to follow the other couple 
with curiosity when they separated; as they frequently did; 

to name a plant; or examine a fresco。 Cassandra was constantly 
studying their backs。 She noticed how sometimes 
the impulse to move came from Katharine; and sometimes 
from Ralph; how; sometimes; they walked slow; as if in profound 
intercourse; and sometimes fast; as if in passionate。 
When they came together again nothing could be more unconcerned 
than their manner。 

“We have been wondering whether they ever catch a 
fish …” or; “We must leave time to visit the Maze。” Then; 
to puzzle her further; William and Ralph filled in all interstices 
of mealtimes or railway journeys with perfectly 
goodtempered arguments; or they discussed politics; or 
they told stories; or they did sums together upon the 
backs of old envelopes to prove something。 She suspected 
that Katharine was absentminded; but it was impossible 
to tell。 There were moments when she felt so young and 
inexperienced that she almost wished herself back with 
the silkworms at Stogdon House; and not embarked upon 
this bewildering intrigue。 

These moments; however; were only the necessary 
shadow or chill which proved the substance of her bliss; 

400 



Virginia Woolf 

and did not damage the radiance which seemed to rest 
equally upon the whole party。 The fresh air of spring; the 
sky washed of clouds and already shedding warmth from 
its blue; seemed the reply vouchsafed by nature to the 
mood of her chosen spirits。 These chosen spirits were to 
be found also among the deer; dumbly basking; and among 
the fish; set still in midstream; for they were mute sharers 
in a benignant state not needing any exposition by the 
tongue。 No words that Cassandra could e by expressed 
the stillness; the brightness; the air of expectancy which 
lay upon the orderly beauty of the grass walks and gravel 
paths down which they went walking four abreast that 
Sunday afternoon。 Silently the shadows of the trees lay 
across the broad sunshine; silence wrapt her heart in its 
folds。 The quivering stillness of the butterfly on the half
opened flower; the silent grazing of the deer in the sun; 
were the sights her eye rested upon and received as the 
images of her own nature laid open to happiness and 
trembling in its ecstasy。 

But the afternoon wore on; and it became time to leave 
the gardens。 As they drove from Waterloo to Chelsea; 

Katharine began to have some punction about her 
father; which; together with the opening of offices and 
the need of working in them on Monday; made it difficult 
to plan another festival for the following day。 Mr。 Hilbery 
had taken their absence; so far; with paternal benevolence; 
but they could not trespass upon it indefinitely。 
Indeed; had they known it; he was already suffering from 
their absence; and longing for their return。 

He had no dislike of solitude; and Sunday; in particular; 
was pleasantly adapted for letterwriting; paying calls; 
or a visit to his club。 He was leaving the house on some 
such suitable expedition towards teatime when he found 
himself stopped on his own doorstep by his sister; Mrs。 
Milvain。 She should; on hearing that no one was at home; 
have withdrawn submissively; but instead she accepted 
his halfhearted invitation to e in; and he found himself 
in the melancholy position of being forced to order 
tea for her and sit in the drawingroom while she drank 
it。 She speedily made it plain that she was only thus 
exacting because she had e on a matter of business。 
He was by no means exhilarated at the news。 

401 



Night and Day 

“Katharine is out this afternoon;” he remarked。 “Why 
not e round later and discuss it with her—with us 
both; eh?” 

“My dear Trevor; I have particular reasons for wishing 
to talk to you alone… 。 Where is Katharine?” 

“She’s out with her young man; naturally。 Cassandra 
plays the part of chaperone very usefully。 A charming 
young woman that—a great favorite of mine。” He turned 
his stone between his fingers; and conceived different 
methods of leading Celia away from her obsession; which; 
he supposed; must have reference to the domestic affairs 
of Cyril as usual。 

“With Cassandra;” Mrs。 Milvain repeated significantly。 
“With Cassandra。” 

“Yes; with Cassandra;” Mr。 Hilbery agreed urbanely; 
pleased at the diversion。 “I think they said they were 
going to Hampton Court; and I rather believe they were 
taking a protege of mine; Ralph Denham; a very clever 
fellow; too; to amuse Cassandra。 I thought the arrangement 
very suitable。” He was prepared to dwell at some 
length upon this safe topic; and trusted that Katharine 

would e in before he had done with it。 

“Hampton Court always seems to me an ideal spot for 
engaged couples。 There’s the Maze; there’s a nice place 
for having tea—I forget what they call it—and then; if 
the young man knows his business he contrives to take 
his lady upon the river。 Full of possibilities—full。 Cake; 
Celia?” Mr。 Hilbery continued。 “I respect my dinner too 
much; but that can’t possibly apply to you。 You’ve never 
observed that feast; so far as I can remember。” 

Her brother’s affability did not deceive Mrs。 Milvain; it 
slightly saddened her; she well knew the cause of it。 Blind 
and infatuated as usual! 

“Who is this Mr。 Denham?” she asked。 

“Ralph Denham?” said Mr。 Hilbery; in relief that her 
mind had taken this turn。 “A very interesting young man。 
I’ve a great belief in him。 He’s an authority upon our 
mediaeval institutions; and if he weren’t forced to earn 
his living he would write a book that very much wants 
writing—” 

“He is not well off; then?” Mrs。 Milvain interposed。 

“Hasn’t a penny; I’m afraid; and a family more or less 

402 



Virginia Woolf 

dependent on him。” 

“A mother and sisters?— His father is dead?” 

“Yes; his father died some years ago;” said Mr。 Hilbery; 
who was prepared to draw upon his imagination; if necessary; 
to keep Mrs。 Milvain supplied with facts about the 
private history of Ralph Denham since; for some inscrutable 
reason; the subject took her fancy。 

“His father has been dead some time; and this young 
man had to take his place—” 

“A legal family?” Mrs。 Milvain inquired。 “I fancy I’ve 
seen the name somewhere。” 

Mr。 Hilbery shook his head。 “I should be inclined to 
doubt whether they were altogether in that walk of life;” 
he observed。 “I fancy that Denham once told me that his 
father was a corn merchant。 Perhaps he said a stockbroker。 
He came to grief; anyhow; as stockbrokers have a 
way of doing。 I’ve a great respect for Denham;” he added。 
The remark sounded to his ears unfortunately conclusive; 
and he was afraid that there was nothing more to be said 
about Denham。 He examined the tips of his fingers carefully。 
“Cassandra’s grown into a very charming young 

woman;” he started afresh。 “Charming to look at; and 
charming to talk to; though her historical knowledge is 
not altogether profound。 Another cup of tea?” 

Mrs。 Milvain had given her cup a little push; which 
seemed to indicate some momentary displeasure。 But she 
did not want any more tea。 

“It is Cassandra that I have e about;” she began。 “I 
am very sorry to say that Cassandra is not at all what you 
think her; Trevor。 She has imposed upon your and Maggie’s 
goodness。 She has behaved in a way that would have 
seemed incredible—in this house of all houses—were it 
not for other circumstances that are still more incredible。” 

Mr。 Hilbery looked taken aback; and was silent for a 
second。 

“It all sounds very black;” he remarked urbanely; continuing 
his examination of his fingernails。 “But I own I 
am pletely in the dark。” 

Mrs。 Milvain became rigid; and emitted her message in 
little short sentences of extreme intensity。 

“Who has Cassandra gone out

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