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第37章

[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第37章


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He did not at once seize the meaning of what Katharine 
and her aunt were saying; William; he supposed; referred 
to some small cousin; for he now saw Katharine as a child 
in a pinafore; but; nevertheless; he was so much distracted 
that his eye could hardly follow the words on the 
paper。 A moment later he heard them speak distinctly of 
an engagement ring。 

“I like rubies;” he heard Katharine say。 

“To be imprison’d in the viewless winds; 

And blown with restless violence round about 

The pendant world… 。” 

Mrs。 Cosham intoned; at the same instant “Rodney” 
fitted itself to “William” in Ralph’s mind。 He felt convinced 
that Katharine was engaged to Rodney。 His first 
sensation was one of violent rage with her for having 
deceived him throughout the visit; fed him with pleasant 
old wives’ tales; let him see her as a child playing in a 
meadow; shared her youth with him; while all the time 
she was a stranger entirely; and engaged to marry Rodney。 

But was it possible? Surely it was not possible。 For in 
his eyes she was still a child。 He paused so long over the 
book that Mrs。 Cosham had time to look over his shoulder 
and ask her niece: 

“And have you settled upon a house yet; Katharine?” 

This convinced him of the truth of the monstrous idea。 
He looked up at once and said: 

“Yes; it’s a difficult passage。” 

His voice had changed so much; he spoke with such 

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Night and Day 

curtness and even with such contempt; that Mrs。 Cosham 
looked at him fairly puzzled。 Happily she belonged to a 
generation which expected uncouthness in its men; and 
she merely felt convinced that this Mr。 Denham was very; 
very clever。 She took back her Shakespeare; as Denham 
seemed to have no more to say; and secreted it once 
more about her person with the infinitely pathetic resignation 
of the old。 

“Katharine’s engaged to William Rodney;” she said; by 
way of filling in the pause; “a very old friend of ours。 He 
has a wonderful knowledge of literature; too—wonderful。” 
She nodded her head rather vaguely。 “You should 
meet each other。” 

Denham’s one wish was to leave the house as soon as 
he could; but the elderly ladies had risen; and were proposing 
to visit Mrs。 Hilbery in her bedroom; so that any 
move on his part was impossible。 At the same time; he 
wished to say something; but he knew not what; to 
Katharine alone。 She took her aunts upstairs; and returned; 
ing towards him once more with an air of innocence 
and friendliness that amazed him。 

“My father will be back;” she said。 “Won’t you sit down?” 
and she laughed; as if now they might share a perfectly 
friendly laugh at the teaparty。 

But Ralph made no attempt to seat himself。 

“I must congratulate you;” he said。 “It was news to 
me。” He saw her face change; but only to bee graver 
than before。 

“My engagement?” she asked。 “Yes; I am going to marry 
William Rodney。” 

Ralph remained standing with his hand on the back of 
a chair in absolute silence。 Abysses seemed to plunge 
into darkness between them。 He looked at her; but her 
face showed that she was not thinking of him。 No regret 
or consciousness of wrong disturbed her。 

“Well; I must go;” he said at length。 

She seemed about to say something; then changed her 
mind and said merely: 

“You will e again; I hope。 We always seem”—she 
hesitated—”to be interrupted。” 

He bowed and left the room。 

Ralph strode with extreme swiftness along the Embank


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Virginia Woolf 

ment。 Every muscle was taut and braced as if to resist 
some sudden attack from outside。 For the moment it 
seemed as if the attack were about to be directed against 
his body; and his brain thus was on the alert; but without 
understanding。 Finding himself; after a few minutes; no 
longer under observation; and no attack delivered; he 
slackened his pace; the pain spread all through him; took 
possession of every governing seat; and met with scarcely 
any resistance from powers exhausted by their first effort 
at defence。 He took his way languidly along the river 
embankment; away from home rather than towards it。 
The world had him at its mercy。 He made no pattern out 
of the sights he saw。 He felt himself now; as he had often 
fancied other people; adrift on the stream; and far removed 
from control of it; a man with no grasp upon circumstances 
any longer。 Old battered men loafing at the 
doors of publichouses now seemed to be his fellows; and 
he felt; as he supposed them to feel; a mingling of envy 
and hatred towards those who passed quickly and certainly 
to a goal of their own。 They; too; saw things very 
thin and shadowy; and were wafted about by the lightest 

breath of wind。 For the substantial world; with its prospect 
of avenues leading on and on to the invisible distance; 
had slipped from him; since Katharine was engaged。 
Now all his life was visible; and the straight; meager 
path had its ending soon enough。 Katharine was engaged; 
and she had deceived him; too。 He felt for corners 
of his being untouched by his disaster; but there was no 
limit to the flood of damage; not one of his possessions 
was safe now。 Katharine had deceived him; she had mixed 
herself with every thought of his; and reft of her they 
seemed false thoughts which he would blush to think 
again。 His life seemed immeasurably impoverished。 

He sat himself down; in spite of the chilly fog which 
obscured the farther bank and left its lights suspended 
upon a blank surface; upon one of the riverside seats; 
and let the tide of disillusionment sweep through him。 
For the time being all bright points in his life were blotted 
out; all prominences leveled。 At first he made himself 
believe that Katharine had treated him badly; and drew 
fort from the thought that; left alone; she would recollect 
this; and think of him and tender him; in silence; 

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Night and Day 

at any rate; an apology。 But this grain of fort failed 
him after a second or two; for; upon reflection; he had to 
admit that Katharine owed him nothing。 Katharine had 
promised nothing; taken nothing; to her his dreams had 
meant nothing。 This; indeed; was the lowest pitch of his 
despair。 If the best of one’s feelings means nothing to 
the person most concerned in those feelings; what reality 
is left us? The old romance which had warmed his 
days for him; the thoughts of Katharine which had painted 
every hour; were now made to appear foolish and enfeebled。 
He rose; and looked into the river; whose swift 
race of duncolored waters seemed the very spirit of futility 
and oblivion。 

“In what can one trust; then?” he thought; as he leant 
there。 So feeble and insubstantial did he feel himself that 
he repeated the word aloud。 

“In what can one trust? Not in men and women。 Not in 
one’s dreams about them。 There’s nothing—nothing; nothing 
left at all。” 

Now Denham had reason to know that he could bring to 
birth and keep alive a fine anger when he chose。 Rodney 

provided a good target for that emotion。 And yet at the 
moment; Rodney and Katharine herself seemed disembodied 
ghosts。 He could scarcely remember the look of 
them。 His mind plunged lower and lower。 Their marriage 
seemed of no importance to him。 All things had turned 
to ghosts; the whole mass of the world was insubstantial 
vapor; surrounding the solitary spark in his mind; whose 
burning point he could remember; for it burnt no more。 
He had once cherished a belief; and Katharine had embodied 
this belief; and she did so no longer。 He did not 
blame her; he blamed nothing; nobody; he saw the truth。 
He saw the duncolored race of waters and the blank shore。 
But life is vigorous; the body lives; and the body; no 
doubt; dictated the reflection; which now urged him to 
movement; that one may cast away the forms of human 
beings; and yet retain the passion which seemed inseparable 
from their existence in the flesh。 Now this passion 
burnt on his horizon; as the winter sun makes a greenish 
pane in the west through thinning clouds。 His eyes were 
set on something infini

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