Philip worked well and easily; he had a good deal to do, since he was taking in July the three parts of the First Conjoint examination, two of which he had failed in before; but he found life pleasant. He made a new friend. Lawson, on the lookout for models, had discovered a girl who was understudying at one of the theatres, and in order to induce her to sit to him arranged a little luncheon-party one Sunday.
She brought a chaperon with her; and to her Philip, asked to make a fourth, was instructed to confine his attentions. He found this easy, since she turned out to be an agreeable chatterbox with an amusing tongue. She asked Philip to go and see her; she had rooms in Vincent Square, and was always in to tea at five o’clock; he went, was delighted with his welcome, and went again.
Mrs. Nesbit was not more than twenty-five, very small, with a pleasant, ugly face; she had very bright eyes, high cheekbones, and a large mouth: the excessive contrasts of her colouring reminded one of a portrait by one of the modern French painters; her skin was very white, her cheeks were very red, her thick eyebrows , her hair, were very black. The effect was odd, a little unnatural , but far from unpleasing.
She was separated from her husband and earned her living and her child’s by writing penny novelettes. There were one or two publishers who made a specialty of that sort of thing, and she had as much work as she could do. It was ill-paid, she received fifteen pounds for a story of thirty thousand words; but she was satisfied.
‘After all, it only costs the reader twopence,’ she said, ‘and they like the same thing over and over again. I just change the names and that’s all. When I’m bored I think of the washing and the rent and clothes for baby, and I go on again.’
Besides, she walked on at various theatres where they wanted supers and earned by this when in work from sixteen shillings to a guinea a week. At the end of her day she was so tired that she slept like a top. She made the best of her difficult lot. Her keen sense of humour enabled her to get amusement out of every vexatious circumstance. Sometimes things went wrong, and she found herself with no money at all; then her trifling possessions found their way to a pawnshop in the Vauxhall Bridge Road, and she ate bread and butter till things grew brighter. She never lost her cheerfulness.
Philip was interested in her shiftless life, and she made him laugh with the fantastic narration of her struggles. He asked her why she did not try her hand at literary work of a better sort, but she knew that she had no talent, and the abominable stuff she turned out by the thousand words was not only tolerably paid, but was the best she could do. She had nothing to look forward to but a continuation of the life she led. She seemed to have no relations, and her friends were as poor as herself.
‘I don’t think of the future,’ she said. ‘As long as I have enough money for three weeks’ rent and a pound or two over for food I never bother. Life wouldn’t be worth living if I worried over the future as well as the present. When things are at their worst I find something always happens.’
Soon Philip grew in the habit of going in to tea with her every day, and so that his visits might not embarrass her he took in a cake or a pound of butter or some tea. They started to call one another by their Christian names. Feminine sympathy was new to him, and he delighted in someone who gave a willing ear to all his troubles. The hours went quickly. He did not hide his admiration for her. She was a delightful companion.
He could not help comparing her with Mildred; and he contrasted with the one’s obstinate stupidity, which refused interest to everything she did not know, the other’s quick appreciation and ready intelligence. His heart sank when he thought that he might have been tied for life to such a woman as Mildred. One evening he told Norah the whole story of his love. It was not one to give him much reason for self-esteem, and it was very pleasant to receive such charming sympathy.
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"我想,你现在已经彻底摆脱了这种困境了,"他讲完后,她接着说了这么一句。
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‘I think you’re well out of it,’ she said, when he had finished.
She had a funny way at times of holding her head on one side like an Aberdeen puppy. She was sitting in an upright chair, sewing, for she had no time to do nothing, and Philip had made himself comfortable at her feet.
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"这一切终于结束了,我打心眼里感到高兴,这种心情实在难以形容。"
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‘I can’t tell you how heartily thankful I am it’s all over,’ he sighed.
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"可怜的人儿,在那段时间里,你一定很不愉快吧,"她喃喃低语,同时把只手搁在他的肩膀上,以示同情。
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‘Poor thing, you must have had a rotten time,’ she murmured, and by way of showing her sympathy put her hand on his shoulder.
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菲利普猛地抓起那只搁在自己肩头的手吻了起来。诺拉急忙把手抽了回来。
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He took it and kissed it, but she withdrew it quickly.
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"你干吗要这样?"她红着脸问道。
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‘Why did you do that?’ she asked, with a blush.
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"你不高兴了?"
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‘Have you any objection?’
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她两眼烟烟闪光,对着他凝视了片刻,接着又嫣然一笑。
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She looked at him for a moment with twinkling eyes, and she smiled.
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"不是的,"她说。
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‘No,’ she said.
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菲利普倏地跪立起来,面对着她。诺拉愣愣地望着他的眼睛,那张宽宽的嘴微笑地牵动着。
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He got up on his knees and faced her. She looked into his eyes steadily , and her large mouth trembled with a smile.
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"怎么啦?"诺拉问。
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‘Well?’ she said.
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"啊,你是个极好的人儿。你待我这么好,我感激不尽。我太喜欢你了。"
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‘You know, you are a ripper. I’m so grateful to you for being nice to me. I like you so much.’
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"尽说些傻里傻气的话,"她说。
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‘Don’t be idiotic,’ she said.
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菲利普抓住她的胳膊,把她拉向自己。她未作抵抗,而是微微向前倾过身子。他吻着她那红润的嘴唇。
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Philip took hold of her elbows and drew her towards him. She made no resistance, but bent forward a little, and he kissed her red lips.
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"你干吗要这样?"她又问道。
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‘Why did you do that?’ she asked again.
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"因为这样舒服呗!"
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‘Because it’s comfortable.’
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她默默不语,但她那对眸子闪烁着温柔的光芒。她用手怜爱地抚摩着他的头发。
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She did not answer, but a tender look came into her eyes, and she passed her hand softly over his hair.
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"你知道,你这样做太蠢了。咱俩是亲密无间的好朋友。我们一直像朋友一样相处不是很好吗?"
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‘You know, it’s awfully silly of you to behave like this. We were such good friends. It would be so jolly to leave it at that.’
Philip, surprised and a little amused, looked into her eyes, and as he looked he saw them soften and grow liquid, and there was an expression in them that enchanted him. His heart was suddenly stirred, and tears came to his eyes.
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"诺拉,你不喜欢我,是不?"他问道,一脸疑惑的神情。
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‘Norah, you’re not fond of me, are you?’ he asked, incredulously.
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"你是个聪明的孩子,亏你问得出这样愚笨的问题。"
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‘You clever boy, you ask such stupid questions.’
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不一会儿,菲利普松开了她,向后蹲坐在自己的脚后跟上,好奇地打量着她。
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Presently he released her and sitting back on his heels looked at her curiously .
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"嗯,我简直发狂了!"他说。
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‘Well, I’m blowed!’ he said.
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"为什么?"
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‘Why?’
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"我觉得太惊讶了!"
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‘I’m so surprised.’
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"不感到愉快吗?"
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‘And pleased?’
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"太高兴了,"他叫喊着,声音犹如从心底迸发出来似的,"太骄傲了,太幸福了,太感激了!"
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‘Delighted,’ he cried with all his heart, ‘and so proud and so happy and so grateful.’
Philip did not love her at all. He was extremely fond of her, glad to be with her, amused and interested by her conversation. She restored his belief in himself and put healing ointments , as it were, on all the bruises of his soul. He was immensely flattered that she cared for him. He admired her courage, her optimism, her impudent defiance of fate; she had a little philosophy of her own, ingenuous and practical.
‘You know, I don’t believe in churches and parsons and all that,’ she said, ‘but I believe in God, and I don’t believe He minds much about what you do as long as you keep your end up and help a lame dog over a stile when you can. And I think people on the whole are very nice, and I’m sorry for those who aren’t.’