[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第89章

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shared　by　most　of　the　people　who　lived　in　these　
houses；　seemed　to　indicate　that　whether　it　was　a　question　
of　art；　music；　or　government；　they　were　well　within　
the　gates；　and　could　smile　indulgently　at　the　vast　mass　
of　humanity　which　is　forced　to　wait　and　struggle；　and　
pay　for　entrance　with　mon　coin　at　the　door。　The　gates　
opened　instantly　to　admit　Cassandra。　She　was　naturally　
critical　of　what　went　on　inside；　and　inclined　to　quote　

what　Henry　would　have　said；　but　she　often　succeeded　in　
contradicting　Henry；　in　his　absence；　and　invariably　paid　
her　partner　at　dinner；　or　the　kind　old　lady　who　remembered　
her　grandmother；　the　pliment　of　believing　that　
there　was　meaning　in　what　they　said。　For　the　sake　of　the　
light　in　her　eager　eyes；　much　crudity　of　expression　and　
some　untidiness　of　person　were　forgiven　her。　It　was　generally　
felt　that；　given　a　year　or　two　of　experience；　introduced　
to　good　dressmakers；　and　preserved　from　bad　influences；　
she　would　be　an　acquisition。　Those　elderly　ladies；　
who　sit　on　the　edge　of　ballrooms　sampling　the　stuff　
of　humanity　between　finger　and　thumb　and　breathing　so　
evenly　that　the　necklaces；　which　rise　and　fall　upon　their　
breasts；　seem　to　represent　some　elemental　force；　such　as　
the　waves　upon　the　ocean　of　humanity；　concluded；　a　little　
smilingly；　that　she　would　do。　They　meant　that　she　would　
in　all　probability　marry　some　young　man　whose　mother　
they　respected。　

William　Rodney　was　fertile　in　suggestions。　He　knew　of　
little　galleries；　and　select　concerts；　and　private　performances；　
and　somehow　made　time　to　meet　Katharine　and　

317　



Night　and　Day　

Cassandra；　and　to　give　them　tea　or　dinner　or　supper　in　
his　rooms　afterwards。　Each　one　of　her　fourteen　days　thus　
promised　to　bear　some　bright　illumination　in　its　sober　
text。　But　Sunday　approached。　The　day　is　usually　dedicated　
to　Nature。　The　weather　was　almost　kindly　enough　
for　an　expedition。　But　Cassandra　rejected　Hampton　Court；　
Greenwich；　Richmond；　and　Kew　in　favor　of　the　Zoological　
Gardens。　She　had　once　trifled　with　the　psychology　of　
animals；　and　still　knew　something　about　inherited　characteristics。　
On　Sunday　afternoon；　therefore；　Katharine；　
Cassandra；　and　William　Rodney　drove　off　to　the　Zoo。　As　
their　cab　approached　the　entrance；　Katharine　bent　forward　
and　waved　her　hand　to　a　young　man　who　was　walking　
rapidly　in　the　same　direction。　

“There’s　Ralph　Denham！”　she　exclaimed。　“I　told　him　to　
meet　us　here；”　she　added。　She　had　even　e　provided　
with　a　ticket　for　him。　William’s　objection　that　he　would　
not　be　admitted　was；　therefore；　silenced　directly。　But　the　
way　in　which　the　two　men　greeted　each　other　was　significant　
of　what　was　going　to　happen。　As　soon　as　they　
had　admired　the　little　birds　in　the　large　cage　William　and　

Cassandra　lagged　behind；　and　Ralph　and　Katharine　pressed　
on　rather　in　advance。　It　was　an　arrangement　in　which　
William　took　his　part；　and　one　that　suited　his　convenience；　
but　he　was　annoyed　all　the　same。　He　thought　
that　Katharine　should　have　told　him　that　she　had　invited　
Denham　to　meet　them。　

“One　of　Katharine’s　friends；”　he　said　rather　sharply。　It　
was　clear　that　he　was　irritated；　and　Cassandra　felt　for　his　
annoyance。　They　were　standing　by　the　pen　of　some　Oriental　
hog；　and　she　was　prodding　the　brute　gently　with　
the　point　of　her　umbrella；　when　a　thousand　little　observations　
seemed；　in　some　way；　to　collect　in　one　center。　
The　center　was　one　of　intense　and　curious　emotion。　Were　
they　happy？　She　dismissed　the　question　as　she　asked　it；　
scorning　herself　for　applying　such　simple　measures　to　
the　rare　and　splendid　emotions　of　so　unique　a　couple。　
Nevertheless；　her　manner　became　immediately　different；　
as　if；　for　the　first　time；　she　felt　consciously　womanly；　and　
as　if　William　might　conceivably　wish　later　on　to　confide　
in　her。　She　forgot　all　about　the　psychology　of　animals；　
and　the　recurrence　of　blue　eyes　and　brown；　and　became　

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Virginia　Woolf　

instantly　engrossed　in　her　feelings　as　a　woman　who　could　
administer　consolation；　and　she　hoped　that　Katharine　
would　keep　ahead　with　Mr。　Denham；　as　a　child　who　plays　
at　being　grownup　hopes　that　her　mother　won’t　e　in　
just　yet；　and　spoil　the　game。　Or　was　it　not　rather　that　she　
had　ceased　to　play　at　being　grownup；　and　was　conscious；　
suddenly；　that　she　was　alarmingly　mature　and　in　earnest？　

There　was　still　unbroken　silence　between　Katharine　and　
Ralph　Denham；　but　the　occupants　of　the　different　cages　
served　instead　of　speech。　

“What　have　you　been　doing　since　we　met？”　Ralph　asked　
at　length。　

“Doing？”　she　pondered。　“Walking　in　and　out　of　other　
people’s　houses。　I　wonder　if　these　animals　are　happy？”　
she　speculated；　stopping　before　a　gray　bear；　who　was　
philosophically　playing　with　a　tassel　which　once；　perhaps；　
formed　part　of　a　lady’s　parasol。　

“I’m　afraid　Rodney　didn’t　like　my　ing；”　Ralph　remarked。　


“No。　But　he’ll　soon　get　over　that；”　she　replied。　The　detachment　
expressed　by　her　voice　puzzled　Ralph；　and　he　

would　have　been　glad　if　she　had　explained　her　meaning　
further。　But　he　was　not　going　to　press　her　for　explanations。　
Each　moment　was　to　be；　as　far　as　he　could　make　it；　
plete　in　itself；　owing　nothing　of　its　happiness　to　explanations；　
borrowing　neither　bright　nor　dark　tints　from　
the　future。　

“The　bears　seem　happy；”　he　remarked。　“But　we　must　
buy　them　a　bag　of　something。　There’s　the　place　to　buy　
buns。　Let’s　go　and　get　them。”　They　walked　to　the　counter　
piled　with　little　paper　bags；　and　each　simultaneously　produced　
a　shilling　and　pressed　it　upon　the　young　lady；　who　
did　not　know　whether　to　oblige　the　lady　or　the　gentleman；　
but　decided；　from　conventional　reasons；　that　it　was　
the　part　of　the　gentleman　to　pay。　

“I　wish　to　pay；”　said　Ralph　peremptorily；　refusing　the　
coin　which　Katharine　tendered。　“I　have　a　reason　for　what　
I　do；”　he　added；　seeing　her　smile　at　his　tone　of　decision。　

“I　believe　you　have　a　reason　for　everything；”　she　agreed；　
breaking　the　bun　into　parts　and　tossing　them　down　the　
bears’　throats；　“but　I　can’t　believe　it’s　a　good　one　this　
time。　What　is　your　reason？”　

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Night　and　Day　

He　refused　to　tell　her。　He　could　not　explain　to　her　that　
he　was　offering　up　consciously　all　his　happiness　to　her；　
and　wished；　absurdly　enough；　to　pour　every　possession　
he　had　upon　the　blazing　pyre；　even　his　silver　and　gold。　
He　wished　to　keep　this　distance　between　them—the　distance　
which　separates　the　devotee　from　the　image　in　the　
shrine。　

Circumstances　conspired　to　make　this　easier　than　it　
would　have　been；　had　they　been　seated　in　a　drawing
room；　for　example；　with　a　teatray　between　them。　He　saw　
her　against　a　background　of　pale　grottos　and　sleek　hides；　
camels　slanted　their　heavyridded　eyes　at　her；　giraffes　
fastidiously　observed　her　from　their　melancholy　eminence；　
and　the　pinklined　trunks　of　elephants　cautiously　abstracted　
buns　from　her　outstretched　hands。　Then　there　
were　the　hothouses。　He　saw　her　bending　over　pythons　
coiled　upon　the　sand；　or　considering　the　brown　rock　breaking　
the　stagnant　water　of　the　alligators’　pool；　or　searching　
some　minute　section　of　tropical　forest　for　the　golden　
eye　of　a　lizard　or　the　indrawn　movement　of　the　green　
frogs’　flanks。　In　particular；　he　saw　her　outlined　against　

the　deep　green　waters；　in　which　squadrons　of　silvery　fish　
wheeled　incessantly；　or　ogled　her　for　a　moment；　pressing　
their　distorted　mouths　against　the　glass；　quivering　their　
tails　straight　out　behind　them。　Again；　there　was　the　insect　
house；　where　she　lifted　the　blinds　of　the　little　cages；　
and　marveled　at　the　purple　circles　marked　upon　the　rich　
tussore　wings　of　some　lately　emerged　and　semiconscious　
butterfly；　or　at　caterpillars　immobile　like　the　knobbed　
twigs　of　a　paleskinned　tree；　or　at　slim　green　snakes　stabbing　
the　glass　wall　again　and　again　with　their　flickering　
cleft　tongues。　The　heat　of　the　air；　and　the　bloom　of　heavy　
flowers；　which　swam　in　water　or　rose　stiffly　from　great　
red　jars；　together　with　the　display　of　curious　patterns　
and　fantastic　shapes；　produced　an　atmosphere　in　which　
human　beings　tended　to