Behind the far door came the thud of Trench's knife practice. Rachel sat with her legs crossed tightly.
"Inside," she said, "what does it do to them there. You alter them there, too. What kind of Jewish mother do they make, they are the kind who make a girl get a nose job even she doesn't want one. How many generations have you worked on so far, how many have you played the dear old family doctor for."
"You are a nasty girl," said Schoenmaker, "and so pretty,too. Why yell at me, all I am is one plastic surgeon. Not a psychoanalyst. Maybe someday there will be special plastic surgeons who can do brain jobs too, make some young kid an Einstein, some girl an Eleanor Roosevelt. Or even make people act less nasty. Till then, how do I know what goes on inside. Inside has nothing to do with the chain."
"You set up another chain." She was trying not to yell. "Changing them inside sets up another chain which has nothing to do with germ plasm. You can transmit characteristics outside, too. You can pass along an attitude . . ."
"Inside, outside," he said, "you're being inconsistent, you lose me."
"I'd like to," she said, rising. "I have bad dreams about people like you."
"Have your analyst tell you what they mean," he said.
"I hope you keep dreaming." She was at the door, half-turned to him.
"My bank balance is big enough so I don't get disillusioned." he said.
Being the kind of girl who can't resist an exit line: "I heard about a disillusioned plastic surgeon," she said, "who hung himself." She was gone, stomping out past the mirrored clock, out into the same wind that moved the pine tree leaving behind the soft chins, warped noses and facial scars of what she feared was a sort of drawing-together or communion.
Now having left the grating behind she walked over the dead grass of Riverside Park under leafless trees and even more substantial skeletons of apartment houses on the Drive, wondering about Esther Harvitz, her long-time roommate, whom she had helped out of more financial crises than either could remember. An old rusty beer can lay in her path; she kicked it viciously. What is it, she thought, is this the way Nueva York is set up, then, freeloaders and victims? Schoenmaker freeloads off my roommate, she freeloads off me. Is there this long daisy chain of victimizers and victims, screwers and screwees? And if so, who is it I am screwing. She thought first of Slab, Slab of the Raoul-Slab-Melvin triumvirate, between whom and a lack of charity toward all men she'd alternated ever since coming to this city.
"What do you let her take for," he had said, "always take." It was in his studio, she remembered, back during one of those Slab-and-Rachel idylls that usually preceded a Slab-and-Esther Affair. Con Edison had just shut off the electricity so all they had to look at each other by was one gas burner on the stove, which bloomed in a blue and yellow minaret, making the faces masks, their eyes expressionless sheets of light.
"Baby," she said, "Slab, it is only that the kid is broke, and if I can afford it why not."
2012年11月26日星期一
I never heard
"I never heard," mentioned Broncho, "about any of Dibble's ways of mixin' scrappin' and cipherin'."
"Triggernometry?" suggested the Nueces infant.
"That's rather better than I hoped from you," nodded the Easterner, approvingly. "The other meaning is that Buckley never goes into a fight without giving away weight.
He seems to dread taking the slightest advantage. That's quite close to foolhardiness when you are dealing with horse-thieves and fence-cutters who would ambush you any night, and shoot you in the back if they could. Buckley's too full of sand. He'll play Horatius and hold the bridge once too often some day."
"I'm on there," drawled the Kid; "I mind that bridge gang in the reader. Me, I go instructed for the other chap--Spurious Somebody--the one that fought and pulled his freight, to fight 'em on some other day."
"Anyway," summed up Broncho, "Bob's about the gamest man I ever see along the Rio Bravo. Great Sam Houston! If she gets any hotter she'll sizzle!" Broncho whacked at a scorpion with his four-pound Stetson felt, and the three watchers relapsed into comfortless silence.
How well Bob Buckley had kept his secret, since these men, for two years his side comrades in countless border raids and dangers, thus spake of him, not knowing that he was the most arrant physical coward in all that Rio Bravo country! Neither his friends nor his enemies had suspected him of aught else than the finest courage. It was purely a physical cowardice, and only by an extreme, grim effort of will had he forced his craven body to do the bravest deeds. Scourging himself always, as a monk whips his besetting sin, Buckley threw himself with apparent recklessness into every danger, with the hope of some day ridding himself of the despised affliction. But each successive test brought no relief, and the ranger's face, by nature adapted to cheerfulness and good-humour, became set to the guise of gloomy melancholy. Thus, while the frontier admired his deeds, and his prowess was celebrated in print and by word of mouth in many camp- fires in the valley of the Bravo, his heart was sick within him. Only himself knew of the horrible tightening of the chest, the dry mouth, the weakening of the spine, the agony of the strung nerves--the never- failing symptoms of his shameful malady.
One mere boy in his company was wont to enter a fray with a leg perched flippantly about the horn of his saddle, a cigarette hanging from his lips, which emitted smoke and original slogans of clever invention. Buckley would have given a year's pay to attain that devil- may-care method. Once the debonair youth said to him: "Buck, you go into a scrap like it was a funeral. Not," he added, with a complimentary wave of his tin cup, "but what it generally is."
Buckley's conscience was of the New England order with Western adjustments, and he continued to get his rebellious body into as many difficulties as possible; wherefore, on that sultry afternoon he chose to drive his own protesting limbs to investigation of that sudden alarm that had startled the peace and dignity of the State.
"Triggernometry?" suggested the Nueces infant.
"That's rather better than I hoped from you," nodded the Easterner, approvingly. "The other meaning is that Buckley never goes into a fight without giving away weight.
He seems to dread taking the slightest advantage. That's quite close to foolhardiness when you are dealing with horse-thieves and fence-cutters who would ambush you any night, and shoot you in the back if they could. Buckley's too full of sand. He'll play Horatius and hold the bridge once too often some day."
"I'm on there," drawled the Kid; "I mind that bridge gang in the reader. Me, I go instructed for the other chap--Spurious Somebody--the one that fought and pulled his freight, to fight 'em on some other day."
"Anyway," summed up Broncho, "Bob's about the gamest man I ever see along the Rio Bravo. Great Sam Houston! If she gets any hotter she'll sizzle!" Broncho whacked at a scorpion with his four-pound Stetson felt, and the three watchers relapsed into comfortless silence.
How well Bob Buckley had kept his secret, since these men, for two years his side comrades in countless border raids and dangers, thus spake of him, not knowing that he was the most arrant physical coward in all that Rio Bravo country! Neither his friends nor his enemies had suspected him of aught else than the finest courage. It was purely a physical cowardice, and only by an extreme, grim effort of will had he forced his craven body to do the bravest deeds. Scourging himself always, as a monk whips his besetting sin, Buckley threw himself with apparent recklessness into every danger, with the hope of some day ridding himself of the despised affliction. But each successive test brought no relief, and the ranger's face, by nature adapted to cheerfulness and good-humour, became set to the guise of gloomy melancholy. Thus, while the frontier admired his deeds, and his prowess was celebrated in print and by word of mouth in many camp- fires in the valley of the Bravo, his heart was sick within him. Only himself knew of the horrible tightening of the chest, the dry mouth, the weakening of the spine, the agony of the strung nerves--the never- failing symptoms of his shameful malady.
One mere boy in his company was wont to enter a fray with a leg perched flippantly about the horn of his saddle, a cigarette hanging from his lips, which emitted smoke and original slogans of clever invention. Buckley would have given a year's pay to attain that devil- may-care method. Once the debonair youth said to him: "Buck, you go into a scrap like it was a funeral. Not," he added, with a complimentary wave of his tin cup, "but what it generally is."
Buckley's conscience was of the New England order with Western adjustments, and he continued to get his rebellious body into as many difficulties as possible; wherefore, on that sultry afternoon he chose to drive his own protesting limbs to investigation of that sudden alarm that had startled the peace and dignity of the State.
“我想要说的是
“我想要说的是，所尔舅舅，”沃尔特把身子往前再弯过去一点，好拍拍他的肩膀，“这种时候我就觉得你应当有一位和善的、矮小的、胖乎乎的妻子，而不是我跟你坐在一起，给你倒茶；你知道，——她是一位贤惠的、能使你感到愉快的、和你情投意合的老太太，跟你正好相配；她知道怎样照顾你，让你心情舒畅。可是现在却是我在这里；我是一个很爱你的外甥（我相信我应当是！），可是我只是一个外甥；当你闷闷不乐，心绪不佳的时候，我就不能成为像她那样几年前就知道怎么做的伴侣了，虽然我相信，如果我能使你高兴起来，那么要我拿出多少钱来我都是愿意的。所以我说，每当我看到你有什么心事，而除了像我这样一个常常出漏子的粗鲁小伙子外，你没有一个更好的人在身旁的时候，我就感到很遗憾。我倒有意安慰安慰你，舅舅，可是我不知道该怎么办才好——不知道怎么办才好。”沃尔特重复说了一句，一边把身子向前再弯过去一些，好和他的舅舅握握手。
“沃利，我亲爱的孩子，”所罗门说道，“如果那位和我情投意合的、矮小的老太太在四十五年前就在这客厅里占据了她的位置，那么我也决不会像我现在这样喜欢你一样地喜欢她的。”
“我知道这一点，所尔舅舅，”沃尔特回答道。“上帝保佑你，我知道这一点。可是如果她跟你在一起，那么你有了不好对外人说的不称心的事情，你就不会承担它的全部负担了，因为她知道怎样让你把它们解脱掉的，而我就不知道了。”
“不，不，你知道的！”仪器制造商回答道。
“唔，那么发生了什么事情了呢，所尔舅舅？”沃尔特哄骗地说道。“说吧！发生了什么事情？”
所罗门•吉尔斯坚持说，没有发生什么事情，而且态度坚决，毫不改变，所以他的外甥没有法子，只好不太高明地假装相信他。
“我只想说一点，所尔舅舅，如果发生了什么——”
“可是没有发生什么，”所罗门说道。
“很好，”沃尔特说道。“那我就再也没有什么要说的了；巧得很，因为现在是我该去上班的时候了。我路过这里的时候，会顺便来看你的，看看你过得怎么样，舅舅。记住，舅舅！如果我发现你欺骗了我，那么我就再也不相信你了，再也不跟你讲低级职员卡克先生的事情了！”
所罗门•吉尔斯大笑着否认他能发现这样的事情；沃尔特脑子里盘旋着各种不切实际的发财致富的办法，好使木制海军军官候补生处于独立的地位，一边露出比平时更沉重的神色，向董贝父子公司的营业所走去。
在那些日子里，在比晓普斯盖特街的拐角上住着一位布罗格利先生，他是一位有许可证的经纪人和估价人，开设了一个店铺，店铺里离奇古怪地摆放着各种各样的旧家具，摆放和组合的方式都跟这些家具的用途完全不相称。几十张椅子钩挂在脸盆架上；脸盆架为难地在餐具柜的两侧保持住重心，以免倒下；餐具柜又支立在餐桌的不是恰当的一边；这些餐桌像做体操似地用脚顶住另一些餐桌的桌面；这些就是这些家具的最合理的安排。由盘盖、酒杯、圆酒瓶组成的宴席餐具通常散放在四柱的床架上，供它们的亲朋好友（如三、四副火钳和过道里的一盏灯）来享用。没有任何窗子属于它们的窗帘悬挂着，成了一张塞满小药瓶的五屉柜的遮护物；一块无家可归的炉边地毯离开它天然的伴侣炉子，在逆境中英勇地抵抗着刺骨的东风，它浑身哆嗦着，那忧伤的情调与一架钢琴的尖声怨诉倒很一致；那钢琴一天损失一根弦，正在消瘦下去，它那吵吵闹闹、精神错乱的脑袋对街上的喧声正作出微弱的反响。至于那指针永远停在一个地方、不会走动的钟表，似乎像他过去的主人的金钱状况一样，已经不能正常地运转了；这种钟表在布罗格利先生的店中经常是很多的，可以随意挑选；还有各种各样的镜子有时摆放得能使反映与折射出的形象比原形增大几倍，它们送入眼睛来的永远是一片破产与没落的景象。
布罗格利先生本人的眼睛经常是水汪汪的，脸孔是粉红色的，头发卷曲，块头很大，性格随和——因为凯乌斯•马略这样一类人是能够精神振作地坐在其他民族的迦太基的废墟上的①。他有时曾顺道到所罗门的店里来看看，问一问所罗门所经营的仪器方面的问题；沃尔特跟他熟了，在街上遇见时总要向他寒暄问好，然而这位经纪人与所罗门•吉尔斯也仅仅熟悉到这样的程度罢了，所以当沃尔特那天午前信守诺言，回到家中，看见布罗格利先生坐在后客厅里，双手插在衣袋中，帽子挂在门后的时候，感到相当惊奇。
--------
①凯乌斯•马略（CaiusMarius，公元前157—86年），曾七次当选为古罗马的执政官，他指挥非洲的战争时，勇猛顽强，用兵如神。公元前88年，他被迫逃出罗马，历经艰险，逃到非洲，曾在迦太基的废墟中避难。迦太基（Carthage）为古代著名大城市之一，相传为腓尼基人于公元前814年所建，今为突尼斯市郊区。
“唔，所尔舅舅！”沃尔特说道。那老人正沮丧地坐在桌子的另一边，眼镜居然很难得地戴在眼睛前面，而不是架在前额上。“你现在好吗？”
所罗门摇摇头，一只手向经纪人挥了挥，作为介绍他。
“发生什么事情了吗？”沃尔特屏息地问道。
“没有，没有，没有发生什么事情，”布罗格利先生说道。
“您别为这忧虑。”
沃尔特沉默而惊奇地把眼光从经纪人身上转移到他舅舅身上。
“事情是，”布罗格利先生说道，“这里有一张没有支付的票据。三百七十多镑，已经过期了。现在票据在我手里。”
“在您手里！”沃尔特往店铺里环视了一下，喊道。
“是的，”布罗格利先生用一种讲机密话的语气说道，同时点点头，仿佛他想劝告大家，每个人都应当觉得自己很好。“这是执行一件该办的事。事情仅仅如此而已。你别为这忧虑。我亲自到这里来，是因为我想悄悄地、和和气气地把这件事情了结了。您知道我，完全是私下的，一点也没有声张。”
“所尔舅舅！”沃尔特结结巴巴地说道。
“沃利，我的孩子，”他的舅舅回答道。“这是第一次。我从前从没有遇到过这样的不幸。我太老了，没法从头开始了。”他把眼镜又推到额上去（因为它已不能再掩盖他的情绪了），用一只手捂住脸孔，大声抽泣着，眼泪掉落在他的咖啡色的背心上。
“所尔舅舅！啊！请别这样！”沃尔特高声喊道；他看到老人哭泣，确实感到一阵恐怖。“看在上帝的分上，别这样！
布罗格利先生，我该怎么办？”
“我想建议您去找位朋友，”布罗格利先生说道，“跟他谈谈这件事情。”
“完全正确！”沃尔特急忙抓住一切机会，喊道。“当然该这么办！谢谢您。卡特尔船长就是我们所需要的人，舅舅。等着我，等我跑去找卡特尔船长。布罗格利先生，当我不在家的时候，请您照看一下我的舅舅，尽量安慰安慰他，好吗？不要灰心丧气，所尔舅舅。努力振作起精神，这才是个男子汉！”
沃尔特热情洋溢地说完了这些话，不顾老人上句不接下句地劝阻，迅猛地又冲出了店铺；他急忙跑到办公室，借口他舅舅突然病了，请求准假，然后火速地向卡特尔船长的住所进发。
当他沿着街道跑过去的时候，一切似乎都已改变了。像往常一样，手推车、大车、公共汽车、运货马车和行人混杂在一起，熙熙攘攘，发出了各种闹声，可是落到木制海军军官候补生身上的不幸使它们变得古怪与新奇。房屋与店铺跟它们平日的样子不同，正面有很大的字母写着布格罗利先生的付款通知单。这位经纪人似乎把教堂也掌握在手中了，因为它们的尖顶以一种不同寻常的气概升入了天空；甚至天空本身也改变了，也明显地参与了这件事情的执行。
卡特尔船长住在靠近印度造船厂的小运河的岸边；那里有一座旋桥，它不时旋开，让一些如同漫游巨怪般的船舰像搁浅了的海中怪兽一样，沿着街道冲游过去。当走向卡特尔船长住所的时候，从陆地到水上的逐步变化是奇妙有趣的。开始时是一些作为客栈附属物的旗杆高高耸立着；然后是现成服装店，店外悬挂着耿济岛①的黑色厚毛线衫，海员用的防水帽以及最紧窄和最宽松的帆布裤子。接着是生产锚和锚链的铁工厂，长柄的大铁锤整天叮叮当当地抡打着铁块。再下去是一排排房屋，房屋附近种植的红豆中间竖立着顶上有小风信标的桅杆。接下去是水沟，然后是截去树梢的柳树。再下去是更多的水沟。然后是一片片奇怪的脏水，由于上面有船，很难辨认出来。再下去，空气中散发着刨花的气味。所有其他行业都被制作桅、桨和滑车的行业和造船业排挤掉了。往下去，土地变得像沼泽一样低湿、泥泞，很不牢固。再下去，除了朗姆酒和糖的气味外，再也闻不到别的气味了。再往下，卡特尔船长的住所就近在您的眼前了。他住在二层楼，那是布里格广场上最高的一层。
“沃利，我亲爱的孩子，”所罗门说道，“如果那位和我情投意合的、矮小的老太太在四十五年前就在这客厅里占据了她的位置，那么我也决不会像我现在这样喜欢你一样地喜欢她的。”
“我知道这一点，所尔舅舅，”沃尔特回答道。“上帝保佑你，我知道这一点。可是如果她跟你在一起，那么你有了不好对外人说的不称心的事情，你就不会承担它的全部负担了，因为她知道怎样让你把它们解脱掉的，而我就不知道了。”
“不，不，你知道的！”仪器制造商回答道。
“唔，那么发生了什么事情了呢，所尔舅舅？”沃尔特哄骗地说道。“说吧！发生了什么事情？”
所罗门•吉尔斯坚持说，没有发生什么事情，而且态度坚决，毫不改变，所以他的外甥没有法子，只好不太高明地假装相信他。
“我只想说一点，所尔舅舅，如果发生了什么——”
“可是没有发生什么，”所罗门说道。
“很好，”沃尔特说道。“那我就再也没有什么要说的了；巧得很，因为现在是我该去上班的时候了。我路过这里的时候，会顺便来看你的，看看你过得怎么样，舅舅。记住，舅舅！如果我发现你欺骗了我，那么我就再也不相信你了，再也不跟你讲低级职员卡克先生的事情了！”
所罗门•吉尔斯大笑着否认他能发现这样的事情；沃尔特脑子里盘旋着各种不切实际的发财致富的办法，好使木制海军军官候补生处于独立的地位，一边露出比平时更沉重的神色，向董贝父子公司的营业所走去。
在那些日子里，在比晓普斯盖特街的拐角上住着一位布罗格利先生，他是一位有许可证的经纪人和估价人，开设了一个店铺，店铺里离奇古怪地摆放着各种各样的旧家具，摆放和组合的方式都跟这些家具的用途完全不相称。几十张椅子钩挂在脸盆架上；脸盆架为难地在餐具柜的两侧保持住重心，以免倒下；餐具柜又支立在餐桌的不是恰当的一边；这些餐桌像做体操似地用脚顶住另一些餐桌的桌面；这些就是这些家具的最合理的安排。由盘盖、酒杯、圆酒瓶组成的宴席餐具通常散放在四柱的床架上，供它们的亲朋好友（如三、四副火钳和过道里的一盏灯）来享用。没有任何窗子属于它们的窗帘悬挂着，成了一张塞满小药瓶的五屉柜的遮护物；一块无家可归的炉边地毯离开它天然的伴侣炉子，在逆境中英勇地抵抗着刺骨的东风，它浑身哆嗦着，那忧伤的情调与一架钢琴的尖声怨诉倒很一致；那钢琴一天损失一根弦，正在消瘦下去，它那吵吵闹闹、精神错乱的脑袋对街上的喧声正作出微弱的反响。至于那指针永远停在一个地方、不会走动的钟表，似乎像他过去的主人的金钱状况一样，已经不能正常地运转了；这种钟表在布罗格利先生的店中经常是很多的，可以随意挑选；还有各种各样的镜子有时摆放得能使反映与折射出的形象比原形增大几倍，它们送入眼睛来的永远是一片破产与没落的景象。
布罗格利先生本人的眼睛经常是水汪汪的，脸孔是粉红色的，头发卷曲，块头很大，性格随和——因为凯乌斯•马略这样一类人是能够精神振作地坐在其他民族的迦太基的废墟上的①。他有时曾顺道到所罗门的店里来看看，问一问所罗门所经营的仪器方面的问题；沃尔特跟他熟了，在街上遇见时总要向他寒暄问好，然而这位经纪人与所罗门•吉尔斯也仅仅熟悉到这样的程度罢了，所以当沃尔特那天午前信守诺言，回到家中，看见布罗格利先生坐在后客厅里，双手插在衣袋中，帽子挂在门后的时候，感到相当惊奇。
--------
①凯乌斯•马略（CaiusMarius，公元前157—86年），曾七次当选为古罗马的执政官，他指挥非洲的战争时，勇猛顽强，用兵如神。公元前88年，他被迫逃出罗马，历经艰险，逃到非洲，曾在迦太基的废墟中避难。迦太基（Carthage）为古代著名大城市之一，相传为腓尼基人于公元前814年所建，今为突尼斯市郊区。
“唔，所尔舅舅！”沃尔特说道。那老人正沮丧地坐在桌子的另一边，眼镜居然很难得地戴在眼睛前面，而不是架在前额上。“你现在好吗？”
所罗门摇摇头，一只手向经纪人挥了挥，作为介绍他。
“发生什么事情了吗？”沃尔特屏息地问道。
“没有，没有，没有发生什么事情，”布罗格利先生说道。
“您别为这忧虑。”
沃尔特沉默而惊奇地把眼光从经纪人身上转移到他舅舅身上。
“事情是，”布罗格利先生说道，“这里有一张没有支付的票据。三百七十多镑，已经过期了。现在票据在我手里。”
“在您手里！”沃尔特往店铺里环视了一下，喊道。
“是的，”布罗格利先生用一种讲机密话的语气说道，同时点点头，仿佛他想劝告大家，每个人都应当觉得自己很好。“这是执行一件该办的事。事情仅仅如此而已。你别为这忧虑。我亲自到这里来，是因为我想悄悄地、和和气气地把这件事情了结了。您知道我，完全是私下的，一点也没有声张。”
“所尔舅舅！”沃尔特结结巴巴地说道。
“沃利，我的孩子，”他的舅舅回答道。“这是第一次。我从前从没有遇到过这样的不幸。我太老了，没法从头开始了。”他把眼镜又推到额上去（因为它已不能再掩盖他的情绪了），用一只手捂住脸孔，大声抽泣着，眼泪掉落在他的咖啡色的背心上。
“所尔舅舅！啊！请别这样！”沃尔特高声喊道；他看到老人哭泣，确实感到一阵恐怖。“看在上帝的分上，别这样！
布罗格利先生，我该怎么办？”
“我想建议您去找位朋友，”布罗格利先生说道，“跟他谈谈这件事情。”
“完全正确！”沃尔特急忙抓住一切机会，喊道。“当然该这么办！谢谢您。卡特尔船长就是我们所需要的人，舅舅。等着我，等我跑去找卡特尔船长。布罗格利先生，当我不在家的时候，请您照看一下我的舅舅，尽量安慰安慰他，好吗？不要灰心丧气，所尔舅舅。努力振作起精神，这才是个男子汉！”
沃尔特热情洋溢地说完了这些话，不顾老人上句不接下句地劝阻，迅猛地又冲出了店铺；他急忙跑到办公室，借口他舅舅突然病了，请求准假，然后火速地向卡特尔船长的住所进发。
当他沿着街道跑过去的时候，一切似乎都已改变了。像往常一样，手推车、大车、公共汽车、运货马车和行人混杂在一起，熙熙攘攘，发出了各种闹声，可是落到木制海军军官候补生身上的不幸使它们变得古怪与新奇。房屋与店铺跟它们平日的样子不同，正面有很大的字母写着布格罗利先生的付款通知单。这位经纪人似乎把教堂也掌握在手中了，因为它们的尖顶以一种不同寻常的气概升入了天空；甚至天空本身也改变了，也明显地参与了这件事情的执行。
卡特尔船长住在靠近印度造船厂的小运河的岸边；那里有一座旋桥，它不时旋开，让一些如同漫游巨怪般的船舰像搁浅了的海中怪兽一样，沿着街道冲游过去。当走向卡特尔船长住所的时候，从陆地到水上的逐步变化是奇妙有趣的。开始时是一些作为客栈附属物的旗杆高高耸立着；然后是现成服装店，店外悬挂着耿济岛①的黑色厚毛线衫，海员用的防水帽以及最紧窄和最宽松的帆布裤子。接着是生产锚和锚链的铁工厂，长柄的大铁锤整天叮叮当当地抡打着铁块。再下去是一排排房屋，房屋附近种植的红豆中间竖立着顶上有小风信标的桅杆。接下去是水沟，然后是截去树梢的柳树。再下去是更多的水沟。然后是一片片奇怪的脏水，由于上面有船，很难辨认出来。再下去，空气中散发着刨花的气味。所有其他行业都被制作桅、桨和滑车的行业和造船业排挤掉了。往下去，土地变得像沼泽一样低湿、泥泞，很不牢固。再下去，除了朗姆酒和糖的气味外，再也闻不到别的气味了。再往下，卡特尔船长的住所就近在您的眼前了。他住在二层楼，那是布里格广场上最高的一层。
2012年11月25日星期日
Mildred's senile
"Mildred's senile."
"Mildred's not the point here. The point is you're defying me to protect my son."
"I'm not defying you, Mr. Angstrom
"You can call me Harry."
"I'm not defying you, sir. I'm just telling you I can't accept orders from you. I have to get them from Nelson or Mrs. Angstrom."
"You'll get 'em. Sir." A smiling provocative hovering in Lyle's expression goads Harry to ask, "Do you doubt it?"
"I'll be waiting to hear," Lyle says.
"Listen. You may know about a lot of things I don't but you don't know shit about marriage. My wife will do what I tell her to. Ask her to. In a business like this we're absolutely one."
"We'll see," Lyle says. "My parents were married, as a matter of fact. I was raised in a marriage. I know a lot about marriage."
"Didn't do you much good."
"It showed me something to avoid," Lyle says, and smiles as broadly, as guilelessly, as when Harry came in. All teeth. Now Harry does recall him from the old days at Fiscal Alternatives ? the stacks of gold and silver, and flawless cool Marcia with her long red nails. Poor beauty, did herself in. She and Monroe. Rabbit admits to himself the peculiar charm queers have, a boyish lightness, a rising above all that female muck, where life breeds.
"How's Slim?" Harry asks, rising from the chair. "Nelson used to talk a lot about Slim."
"Slim," Lyle says, too weak or rude to stand, "died. Before Christmas."
"Sorry to hear it," Harry lies. He holds out his hand over the desk to be shaken and the other man hesitates to take it, as if fearing contamination,UGG Clerance. Feverish loose?jointed bones: Rabbit gives them a squeeze and says, "Tell Nelson if you ever see him I like the new decor. Kind of a boutique look. Cute. Goes with the new sales rep. You hang loose,Discount UGG Boots, Lyle. Hope China comes through for you. We'll be in touch."
On the radio on the way home,fake montblanc pens, he hears that Mike Schmidt, who exactly two years ago, on April 18, 1987, slugged his five hundredth home run, against the Pittsburgh Pirates in Three Rivers Stadium, is closing in on Richie Ashburn's total of 2,217 hits to become the hittingest Phillie ever. Rabbit remembers Ashburn. One of the Whiz Kids who beat the Dodgers for the pennant the fall Rabbit became a high?school senior. Curt Simmons, Del Ennis, Dick Sisler in center, Andy Semmick behind the plate. Beat the Dodgers the last game of the season, then lost to the Yankees four straight. In 1950 Rabbit was seventeen and had led the county B league with 817 points his junior season. Remembering these statistics helps settle his agitated mood, stirred up by seeing Thelma and Lyle,replica montblanc pens, a mood of stirred?up unsatisfied desire at whose fringes licks the depressing idea that nothing matters very much, we'll all soon be dead.
Part 2 Chapter 4
Janice's idea of a low?sodium diet for him is to get these frozen dinners in plastic pouches called Low?Cal. Most of this precooked chicken and beef is full of chemicals so it doesn't go bad on the shelf. To work it all through his system he usually has a second beer. Janice is distracted these days, full of excitement about taking real?estate courses at the Penn State extension. "I'm not sure I totally understand it, though the woman at the office over on Pine Street ? hasn't that neighborhood gone downhill, since you and your father used to work at Verity! ? she was very patient with my questions. The classes meet three hours a week for ten weeks, and there are two required and four electives to get this certificate, but I don't think you need the certificate to take the licensing exam, which for a salesperson ? that's what I'd be ? is given monthly and for a broker, which maybe I'd try to be later, only quarterly. But the gist of it is I could begin with two this April and then take two more from July to September and if all goes well get my license in September and start selling, strictly on a commission basis at first, for this firm that Doris Eberhardt's new brother?in?law is one of the partners in. She says she's told him about me and he's interested. It's in your favor evidently to be middle?aged, the clients assume you're experienced."
frogs' ways
ways, frogs' ways, birds' ways, plants' ways, gave hima new world to explore and when Dickon revealed themall and added foxes' ways, otters' ways, ferrets' ways,squirrels' ways, and trout' and water-rats' and badgers'
ways, there was no end to the things to talk about and thinkover,Replica Designer Handbags.
And this was not the half of the Magic. The fact that hehad really once stood on his feet had set Colin thinkingtremendously and when Mary told him of the spell shehad worked he was excited and approved of it greatly.
He talked of it constantly.
"Of course there must be lots of Magic in the world,"he said wisely one day, "but people don't know what it islike or how to make it. Perhaps the beginning is just to saynice things are going to happen until you make them happen.
I am going to try and experiment"The next morning when they went to the secret garden he sentat once for Ben Weatherstaff. Ben came as quickly as hecould and found the Rajah standing on his feet under a treeand looking very grand but also very beautifully smiling.
"Good morning, Ben Weatherstaff," he said. "I want youand Dickon and Miss Mary to stand in a row and listen to mebecause I am going to tell you something very important.""Aye, aye, sir!" answered Ben Weatherstaff, touchinghis forehead. (One of the long concealed charms of BenWeatherstaff was that in his boyhood he had once run awayto sea and had made voyages. So he could reply like a sailor.)"I am going to try a scientific experiment," explained the Rajah.
"When I grow up I am going to make great scientificdiscoveries and I am going to begin now with this experiment""Aye, aye, sir!" said Ben Weatherstaff promptly,though this was the first time he had heard of greatscientific discoveries,replica gucci handbags.
It was the first time Mary had heard of them, either,but even at this stage she had begun to realize that,fake uggs boots,queer as he was, Colin had read about a great many singularthings and was somehow a very convincing sort of boy.
When he held up his head and fixed his strange eyes on youit seemed as if you believed him almost in spite of yourselfthough he was only ten years old--going on eleven.
At this moment he was especially convincing because hesuddenly felt the fascination of actually making a sortof speech like a grown-up person.
"The great scientific discoveries I am going to make,moncler jackets men,"he went on, "will be about Magic. Magic is a great thingand scarcely any one knows anything about it except a fewpeople in old books--and Mary a little, because she wasborn in India where there are fakirs. I believe Dickonknows some Magic, but perhaps he doesn't know he knows it.
He charms animals and people. I would never have let himcome to see me if he had not been an animal charmer--whichis a boy charmer, too, because a boy is an animal.
I am sure there is Magic in everything, only we have notsense enough to get hold of it and make it do things forus--like electricity and horses and steam."This sounded so imposing that Ben Weatherstaff becamequite excited and really could not keep still. "Aye, aye,sir," he said and he began to stand up quite straight.
ways, there was no end to the things to talk about and thinkover,Replica Designer Handbags.
And this was not the half of the Magic. The fact that hehad really once stood on his feet had set Colin thinkingtremendously and when Mary told him of the spell shehad worked he was excited and approved of it greatly.
He talked of it constantly.
"Of course there must be lots of Magic in the world,"he said wisely one day, "but people don't know what it islike or how to make it. Perhaps the beginning is just to saynice things are going to happen until you make them happen.
I am going to try and experiment"The next morning when they went to the secret garden he sentat once for Ben Weatherstaff. Ben came as quickly as hecould and found the Rajah standing on his feet under a treeand looking very grand but also very beautifully smiling.
"Good morning, Ben Weatherstaff," he said. "I want youand Dickon and Miss Mary to stand in a row and listen to mebecause I am going to tell you something very important.""Aye, aye, sir!" answered Ben Weatherstaff, touchinghis forehead. (One of the long concealed charms of BenWeatherstaff was that in his boyhood he had once run awayto sea and had made voyages. So he could reply like a sailor.)"I am going to try a scientific experiment," explained the Rajah.
"When I grow up I am going to make great scientificdiscoveries and I am going to begin now with this experiment""Aye, aye, sir!" said Ben Weatherstaff promptly,though this was the first time he had heard of greatscientific discoveries,replica gucci handbags.
It was the first time Mary had heard of them, either,but even at this stage she had begun to realize that,fake uggs boots,queer as he was, Colin had read about a great many singularthings and was somehow a very convincing sort of boy.
When he held up his head and fixed his strange eyes on youit seemed as if you believed him almost in spite of yourselfthough he was only ten years old--going on eleven.
At this moment he was especially convincing because hesuddenly felt the fascination of actually making a sortof speech like a grown-up person.
"The great scientific discoveries I am going to make,moncler jackets men,"he went on, "will be about Magic. Magic is a great thingand scarcely any one knows anything about it except a fewpeople in old books--and Mary a little, because she wasborn in India where there are fakirs. I believe Dickonknows some Magic, but perhaps he doesn't know he knows it.
He charms animals and people. I would never have let himcome to see me if he had not been an animal charmer--whichis a boy charmer, too, because a boy is an animal.
I am sure there is Magic in everything, only we have notsense enough to get hold of it and make it do things forus--like electricity and horses and steam."This sounded so imposing that Ben Weatherstaff becamequite excited and really could not keep still. "Aye, aye,sir," he said and he began to stand up quite straight.
2012年11月23日星期五
“I don’t want any money
“I don’t want any money, period,” said the wet nurse. “I want this bastard out of my house.”
“But why, my good woman?” said Terrier, poking his finger in the basket again. “He really is an adorable child. He’s rosy pink, he doesn’t cry, and he’s been baptized.”
“He’s possessed by the devil.”
Terrier quickly withdrew his finger from the basket.
“Impossible! It is absolutely impossible for an infant to be possessed by the devil. An infant is not yet a human being; it is a prehuman being and does not yet possess a fully developed soul. Which is why it is of no interest to the devil. Can he talk already, perhaps? Does he twitch and jerk? Does he move things about in the room? Does some evil stench come from him?”
“He doesn’t smell at all,” said the wet nurse.
“And there you have it! That is a clear sign. If he were possessed by the devil, then he would have to stink.”
And to soothe the wet nurse and to put his own courage to the test, Terrier lifted the basket and held it up to his nose.
“I smell absolutely nothing out of the ordinary,” he said after he had sniffed for a while, “really nothing out of the ordinary. Though it does appear as if there’s an odor coming from his diapers.” And he held out the basket to her so that she could confirm his opinion.
“That’s not what I mean,”-said the wet nurse peevishly, shoving the basket away. “I don’t mean what’s in the diaper. His soil smells, that’s true enough. But it’s the bastard himself, he doesn’t smell.”
“Because he’s healthy,” Terrier cried, “because he’s healthy, that’s why he doesn’t smell! Only sick babies smell, everyone knows that. It’s well known that a child with the pox smells like horse manure, and one with scarlet fever like old apples, and a consumptive child smells like onions. He is healthy, that’s all that’s wrong with him. Do you think he should stink? Do your own children stink?”
“No,” said the wet nurse. “My children smell like human children ought to smell.”
Terrier carefully placed the basket back on the ground, for he could sense rising within him the first waves of his anger at this obstinate female. It was possible that he would need to move both arms more freely as the debate progressed, and he didn’t want the infant to be harmed in the process. But for the present, he knotted his hands behind his back, shoved his tapering belly toward the wet nurse, and asked sharply, “You maintain, then, that you know how a human child-which may I remind you, once it is baptized, is also a child of God-is supposed to smell?”
“Yes,” said the wet nurse.
“And you further maintain that, if it does not smell the way you-you, the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie from the rue Saint-Denis!-think it ought to smell, it is therefore a child of the devil?”
He swung his left hand out from behind his back and menacingly held the question mark of his index finger in her face. The wet nurse thought it over. She was not happy that the conversation had all at once turned into a theological cross-examination, in which she could only be the loser.
“That’s not what I meant to say,” she answered evasively. “You priests will have to decide whether all this has anything to do with the devil or not, Father Terrier. That’s not for such as me to say. I only know one thing: this baby makes my flesh creep because it doesn’t smell the way children ought to smell.”
“But why, my good woman?” said Terrier, poking his finger in the basket again. “He really is an adorable child. He’s rosy pink, he doesn’t cry, and he’s been baptized.”
“He’s possessed by the devil.”
Terrier quickly withdrew his finger from the basket.
“Impossible! It is absolutely impossible for an infant to be possessed by the devil. An infant is not yet a human being; it is a prehuman being and does not yet possess a fully developed soul. Which is why it is of no interest to the devil. Can he talk already, perhaps? Does he twitch and jerk? Does he move things about in the room? Does some evil stench come from him?”
“He doesn’t smell at all,” said the wet nurse.
“And there you have it! That is a clear sign. If he were possessed by the devil, then he would have to stink.”
And to soothe the wet nurse and to put his own courage to the test, Terrier lifted the basket and held it up to his nose.
“I smell absolutely nothing out of the ordinary,” he said after he had sniffed for a while, “really nothing out of the ordinary. Though it does appear as if there’s an odor coming from his diapers.” And he held out the basket to her so that she could confirm his opinion.
“That’s not what I mean,”-said the wet nurse peevishly, shoving the basket away. “I don’t mean what’s in the diaper. His soil smells, that’s true enough. But it’s the bastard himself, he doesn’t smell.”
“Because he’s healthy,” Terrier cried, “because he’s healthy, that’s why he doesn’t smell! Only sick babies smell, everyone knows that. It’s well known that a child with the pox smells like horse manure, and one with scarlet fever like old apples, and a consumptive child smells like onions. He is healthy, that’s all that’s wrong with him. Do you think he should stink? Do your own children stink?”
“No,” said the wet nurse. “My children smell like human children ought to smell.”
Terrier carefully placed the basket back on the ground, for he could sense rising within him the first waves of his anger at this obstinate female. It was possible that he would need to move both arms more freely as the debate progressed, and he didn’t want the infant to be harmed in the process. But for the present, he knotted his hands behind his back, shoved his tapering belly toward the wet nurse, and asked sharply, “You maintain, then, that you know how a human child-which may I remind you, once it is baptized, is also a child of God-is supposed to smell?”
“Yes,” said the wet nurse.
“And you further maintain that, if it does not smell the way you-you, the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie from the rue Saint-Denis!-think it ought to smell, it is therefore a child of the devil?”
He swung his left hand out from behind his back and menacingly held the question mark of his index finger in her face. The wet nurse thought it over. She was not happy that the conversation had all at once turned into a theological cross-examination, in which she could only be the loser.
“That’s not what I meant to say,” she answered evasively. “You priests will have to decide whether all this has anything to do with the devil or not, Father Terrier. That’s not for such as me to say. I only know one thing: this baby makes my flesh creep because it doesn’t smell the way children ought to smell.”
At that moment a door was smartly opened and Gilberte entered the room with outstretched hand
At that moment a door was smartly opened and Gilberte entered the room with outstretched hand. Delaherche must have told her who was there, for her ordinary hour of rising was ten o'clock. She was tall, lithe of form and well-proportioned, with an abundance of handsome black hair, a pair of handsome black eyes, and a very rosy, wholesome complexion withal; she had a laughing, rather free and easy way with her, and it did not seem possible she could ever look angry. Her peignoir of beige, embroidered with red silk, was evidently of Parisian manufacture.
"Ah, Captain," she rapidly said, shaking hands with the young man, "how nice of you to stop and see us, away up in this out-of-the-world place!" But she was the first to see that she had "put her foot in it" and laugh at her own blunder. "Oh, what a stupid thing I am! I might know you would rather be somewhere else than at Sedan, under the circumstances. But I am very glad to see you once more."
She showed it; her face was bright and animated, while Madame Delaherche, who could not have failed to hear something of the gossip that had been current among the scandalmongers of Charleville, watched the pair closely with her puritanical air. The captain was very reserved in his behavior, however, manifesting nothing more than a pleasant recollection of hospitalities previously received in the house where he was visiting.
They had no more than sat down at table than Delaherche, burning to relieve himself of the subject that filled his mind, commenced to relate his experiences of the day before.
"You know I saw the Emperor at Baybel."
He was fairly started and nothing could stop him. He began by describing the farmhouse, a large structure with an interior court, surrounded by an iron railing, and situated on a gentle eminence overlooking Mouzon, to the left of the Carignan road. Then he came back to the 12th corps, whom he had visited in their camp among the vines on the hillsides; splendid troops they were, with their equipments brightly shining in the sunlight, and the sight of them had caused his heart to beat with patriotic ardor.
"And there I was, sir, when the Emperor, who had alighted to breakfast and rest himself a bit, came out of the farmhouse. He wore a general's uniform and carried an overcoat across his arm, although the sun was very hot. He was followed by a servant bearing a camp stool. He did not look to me like a well man; ah no, far from it; his stooping form, the sallowness of his complexion, the feebleness of his movements, all indicated him to be in a very bad way. I was not surprised, for the druggist at Mouzon, when he recommended me to drive on to Baybel, told me that an aide-de-camp had just been in his shop to get some medicine--you understand what I mean, medicine for--" The presence of his wife and mother prevented him from alluding more explicitly to the nature of the Emperor's complaint, which was an obstinate diarrhea that he had contracted at Chene and which compelled him to make those frequent halts at houses along the road. "Well, then, the attendant opened the camp stool and placed it in the shade of a clump of trees at the edge of a field of wheat, and the Emperor sat down on it. Sitting there in a limp, dejected attitude, perfectly still, he looked for all the world like a small shopkeeper taking a sun bath for his rheumatism. His dull eyes wandered over the wide horizon, the Meuse coursing through the valley at his feet, before him the range of wooded heights whose summits recede and are lost in the distance, on the left the waving tree-tops of Dieulet forest, on the right the verdure-clad eminence of Sommanthe. He was surrounded by his military family, aides and officers of rank, and a colonel of dragoons, who had already applied to me for information about the country, had just motioned me not to go away, when all at once--" Delaherche rose from his chair, for he had reached the point where the dramatic interest of his story culminated and it became necessary to re-enforce words by gestures. "All at once there is a succession of sharp reports and right in front of us, over the wood of Dieulet, shells are seen circling through the air. It produced on me no more effect than a display of fireworks in broad daylight, sir, upon my word it didn't! The people about the Emperor, of course, showed a good deal of agitation and uneasiness. The colonel of dragoons comes running up again to ask if I can give them an idea whence the firing proceeds. I answer him off-hand: 'It is at Beaumont; there is not the slightest doubt about it.' He returns to the Emperor, on whose knees an aide-de-camp was unfolding a map. The Emperor was evidently of opinion that the fighting was not at Beaumont, for he sent the colonel back to me a third time. But I couldn't well do otherwise than stick to what I had said before, could I, now? the more that the shells kept flying through the air, nearer and nearer, following the line of the Mouzon road. And then, sir, as sure as I see you standing there, I saw the Emperor turn his pale face toward me. Yes sir, he looked at me a moment with those dim eyes of his, that were filled with an expression of melancholy and distrust. And then his face declined upon his map again and he made no further movement."
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