[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第15章
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minute on the edge of the Strand:
“I hear that Bent has given up his theory of truth。”
Denham returned a suitable answer; and he proceeded
to explain how this decision had been arrived at; and
what changes it involved in the philosophy which they
both accepted。 Meanwhile Katharine and Rodney drew
further ahead; and Denham kept; if that is the right expression
for an involuntary action; one filament of his
mind upon them; while with the rest of his intelligence
he sought to understand what Sandys was saying。
As they passed through the courts thus talking; Sandys
laid the tip of his stick upon one of the stones forming a
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timeworn arch; and struck it meditatively two or three
times in order to illustrate something very obscure about
the plex nature of one’s apprehension of facts。 During
the pause which this necessitated; Katharine and
Rodney turned the corner and disappeared。 For a moment
Denham stopped involuntarily in his sentence; and continued
it with a sense of having lost something。
Unconscious that they were observed; Katharine and
Rodney had e out on the Embankment。 When they
had crossed the road; Rodney slapped his hand upon the
stone parapet above the river and exclaimed:
“I promise I won’t say another word about it; Katharine!
But do stop a minute and look at the moon upon the
water。”
Katharine paused; looked up and down the river; and
snuffed the air。
“I’m sure one can smell the sea; with the wind blowing
this way;” she said。
They stood silent for a few moments while the river
shifted in its bed; and the silver and red lights which
were laid upon it were torn by the current and joined
together again。 Very far off up the river a steamer hooted
with its hollow voice of unspeakable melancholy; as if
from the heart of lonely mistshrouded voyagings。
“Ah!” Rodney cried; striking his hand once more upon
the balustrade; “why can’t one say how beautiful it all is?
Why am I condemned for ever; Katharine; to feel what I
can’t express? And the things I can give there’s no use in
my giving。 Trust me; Katharine;” he added hastily; “I won’t
speak of it again。 But in the presence of beauty—look at
the iridescence round the moon!—one feels—one feels—
Perhaps if you married me—I’m half a poet; you see; and
I can’t pretend not to feel what I do feel。 If I could
write—ah; that would be another matter。 I shouldn’t
bother you to marry me then; Katharine。”
He spoke these disconnected sentences rather abruptly;
with his eyes alternately upon the moon and upon the
stream。
“But for me I suppose you would remend marriage?”
said Katharine; with her eyes fixed on the moon。
“Certainly I should。 Not for you only; but for all women。
Why; you’re nothing at all without it; you’re only half
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Night and Day
alive; using only half your faculties; you must feel that
for yourself。 That is why—” Here he stopped himself; and
they began to walk slowly along the Embankment; the
moon fronting them。
“With how sad steps she climbs the sky;
How silently and with how wan a face;”
Rodney quoted。
“I’ve been told a great many unpleasant things about
myself tonight;” Katharine stated; without attending to
him。 “Mr。 Denham seems to think it his mission to lecture
me; though I hardly know him。 By the way; William;
you know him; tell me; what is he like?”
William drew a deep sigh。
“We may lecture you till we’re blue in the face—”
“Yes—but what’s he like?”
“And we write sons to your eyebrows; you cruel practical
creature。 Denham?” he added; as Katharine remained
silent。 “A good fellow; I should think。 He cares; naturally;
for the right sort of things; I expect。 But you mustn’t
marry him; though。 He scolded you; did he—what did he
say?”
“What happens with Mr。 Denham is this: He es to
tea。 I do all I can to put him at his ease。 He merely sits
and scowls at me。 Then I show him our manuscripts。 At
this he bees really angry; and tells me I’ve no business
to call myself a middleclass woman。 So we part in a
huff; and next time we meet; which was tonight; he
walks straight up to me; and says; ‘Go to the Devil!’ That’s
the sort of behavior my mother plains of。 I want to
know; what does it mean?”
She paused and; slackening her steps; looked at the
lighted train drawing itself smoothly over Hungerford
Bridge。
“It means; I should say; that he finds you chilly and
unsympathetic。”
Katharine laughed with round; separate notes of genuine
amusement。
“It’s time I jumped into a cab and hid myself in my own
house;” she exclaimed。
“Would your mother object to my being seen with you?
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No one could possibly recognize us; could they?” Rodney
inquired; with some solicitude。
Katharine looked at him; and perceiving that his solicitude
was genuine; she laughed again; but with an ironical
note in her laughter。
“You may laugh; Katharine; but I can tell you that if
any of your friends saw us together at this time of night
they would talk about it; and I should find that very
disagreeable。 But why do you laugh?”
“I don’t know。 Because you’re such a queer mixture; I
think。 You’re half poet and half old maid。”
“I know I always seem to you highly ridiculous。 But I
can’t help having inherited certain traditions and trying
to put them into practice。”
“Nonsense; William。 You may e of the oldest family
in Devonshire; but that’s no reason why you should mind
being seen alone with me on the Embankment。”
“I’m ten years older than you are; Katharine; and I know
more of the world than you do。”
“Very well。 Leave me and go home。”
Rodney looked back over his shoulder and perceived
that they were being followed at a short distance by a
taxicab; which evidently awaited his summons。 Katharine
saw it; too; and exclaimed:
“Don’t call that cab for me; William。 I shall walk。”
“Nonsense; Katharine; you’ll do nothing of the kind。 It’s
nearly twelve o’clock; and we’ve walked too far as it is。”
Katharine laughed and walked on so quickly that both
Rodney and the taxicab had to increase their pace to
keep up with her。
“Now; William;” she said; “if people see me racing along
the Embankment like this they will talk。 You had far better
say goodnight; if you don’t want people to talk。”
At this William beckoned; with a despotic gesture; to
the cab with one hand; and with the other he brought
Katharine to a standstill。
“Don’t let the man see us struggling; for God’s sake!”
he murmured。 Katharine stood for a moment quite still。
“There’s more of the old maid in you than the poet;”
she observed briefly。
William shut the door sharply; gave the address to the
driver; and turned away; lifting his hat punctiliously high
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Night and Day
in farewell to the invisible lady。
He looked back after the cab twice; suspiciously; half
expecting that she would stop it and dismount; but it
bore her swiftly on; and was soon out of sight。 William
felt in the mood for a short soliloquy of indignation; for
Katharine had contrived to exasperate him in more ways
than one。
“Of all the unreasonable; inconsiderate creatures I’ve
ever known; she’s the worst!” he exclaimed to himself;
striding back along the Embankment。 “Heaven forbid that
I should ever make a fool of myself with her again。 Why;
I’d sooner marry the daughter of my landlady than
Katharine Hilbery! She’d leave me not a moment’s peace—
and she’d never understand me—never; never; never!”
Uttered aloud and with vehemence so that the stars of
Heaven might hear; for there was no human being at hand;
these sentiments sounded satisfactorily irrefutable。
Rodney quieted down; and walked on in silence; until he
perceived some one approaching him; who had something;
either in his walk or his dress; which proclaimed
that he was one of William’s acquaintances before it was
possible to tell which of them he