神鸟电子书 > 文学名著电子书 > [夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版 >

第54部分

[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第54部分


按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!




There was a brotherly kindness in his voice which seemed 
to her magnanimous; when she reflected that she had 
cut short his explanations and shown little interest in his 
change of plan。 She gave him her reasons for thinking 
that she might profit by such a journey; omitting the one 
reason which had set all the rest in motion。 He listened 
attentively; and made no attempt to dissuade her。 In truth; 
he found himself curiously eager to make certain of her 
good sense; and accepted each fresh proof of it with satisfaction; 
as though it helped him to make up his mind 
about something。 She forgot the pain he had caused her; 
and in place of it she became conscious of a steady tide 
of wellbeing which harmonized very aptly with the tramp 
of their feet upon the dry road and the support of his 
arm。 The fort was the more glowing in that it seemed 
to be the reward of her determination to behave to him 
simply and without attempting to be other than she was。 
Instead of making out an interest in the poets; she avoided 
them instinctively; and dwelt rather insistently upon the 
practical nature of her gifts。 

In a practical way she asked for particulars of his cot


192 



Virginia Woolf 

tage; which hardly existed in his mind; and corrected his 
vagueness。 

“You must see that there’s water;” she insisted; with an 
exaggeration of interest。 She avoided asking him what 
he meant to do in this cottage; and; at last; when all the 
practical details had been thrashed out as much as possible; 
he rewarded her by a more intimate statement。 

“One of the rooms;” he said; “must be my study; for; 
you see; Mary; I’m going to write a book。” Here he withdrew 
his arm from hers; lit his pipe; and they tramped on 
in a sagacious kind of radeship; the most plete 
they had attained in all their friendship。 

“And what’s your book to be about?” she said; as boldly 
as if she had never e to grief with Ralph in talking 
about books。 He told her unhesitatingly that he meant to 
write the history of the English village from Saxon days 
to the present time。 Some such plan had lain as a seed in 
his mind for many years; and now that he had decided; in 
a flash; to give up his profession; the seed grew in the 
space of twenty minutes both tall and lusty。 He was surprised 
himself at the positive way in which he spoke。 It 

was the same with the question of his cottage。 That had 
e into existence; too; in an unromantic shape —a 
square white house standing just off the high road; no 
doubt; with a neighbor who kept a pig and a dozen squalling 
children; for these plans were shorn of all romance in 
his mind; and the pleasure he derived from thinking of 
them was checked directly it passed a very sober limit。 
So a sensible man who has lost his chance of some beautiful 
inheritance might tread out the narrow bounds of 
his actual dwellingplace; and assure himself that life is 
supportable within its demesne; only one must grow turnips 
and cabbages; not melons and pomegranates。 Certainly 
Ralph took some pride in the resources of his mind; 
and was insensibly helped to right himself by Mary’s trust 
in him。 She wound her ivy spray round her ashplant; and 
for the first time for many days; when alone with Ralph; 
set no spies upon her motives; sayings; and feelings; but 
surrendered herself to plete happiness。 

Thus talking; with easy silences and some pauses to 
look at the view over the hedge and to decide upon the 
species of a little graybrown bird slipping among the 

193 



Night and Day 

twigs; they walked into Lincoln; and after strolling up 
and down the main street; decided upon an inn where 
the rounded window suggested substantial fare; nor were 
they mistaken。 For over a hundred and fifty years hot 
joints; potatoes; greens; and apple puddings had been 
served to generations of country gentlemen; and now; 
sitting at a table in the hollow of the bow window; Ralph 
and Mary took their share of this perennial feast。 Looking 
across the joint; halfway through the meal; Mary 
wondered whether Ralph would ever e to look quite 
like the other people in the room。 Would he be absorbed 
among the round pink faces; pricked with little white 
bristles; the calves fitted in shiny brown leather; the blackand
white check suits; which were sprinkled about in the 
same room with them? She half hoped so; she thought 
that it was only in his mind that he was different。 She 
did not wish him to be too different from other people。 
The walk had given him a ruddy color; too; and his eyes 
were lit up by a steady; honest light; which could not 
make the simplest farmer feel ill at ease; or suggest to 
the most devout of clergymen a disposition to sneer at 

his faith。 She loved the steep cliff of his forehead; and 
pared it to the brow of a young Greek horseman; who 
reins his horse back so sharply that it half falls on its 
haunches。 He always seemed to her like a rider on a spirited 
horse。 And there was an exaltation to her in being 
with him; because there was a risk that he would not be 
able to keep to the right pace among other people。 Sitting 
opposite him at the little table in the window; she 
came back to that state of careless exaltation which had 
overe her when they halted by the gate; but now it 
was acpanied by a sense of sanity and security; for 
she felt that they had a feeling in mon which scarcely 
needed embodiment in words。 How silent he was! leaning 
his forehead on his hand; now and then; and again 
looking steadily and gravely at the backs of the two men 
at the next table; with so little selfconsciousness that 
she could almost watch his mind placing one thought 
solidly upon the top of another; she thought that she 
could feel him thinking; through the shade of her fingers; 
and she could anticipate the exact moment when 
he would put an end to his thought and turn a little in 

194 



Virginia Woolf 

his chair and say: 

“Well; Mary—?” inviting her to take up the thread of 
thought where he had dropped it。 

And at that very moment he turned just so; and said: 

“Well; Mary?” with the curious touch of diffidence which 
she loved in him。 

She laughed; and she explained her laugh on the spur 
of the moment by the look of the people in the street 
below。 There was a motorcar with an old lady swathed in 
blue veils; and a lady’s maid on the seat opposite; holding 
a King Charles’s spaniel; there was a countrywoman 
wheeling a perambulator full of sticks down the middle 
of the road; there was a bailiff in gaiters discussing the 
state of the cattle market with a dissenting minister—so 
she defined them。 

She ran over this list without any fear that her panion 
would think her trivial。 Indeed; whether it was 
due to the warmth of the room or to the good roast beef; 
or whether Ralph had achieved the process which is called 
making up one’s mind; certainly he had given up testing 
the good sense; the independent character; the intelli


gence shown in her remarks。 He had been building one of 
those piles of thought; as ramshackle and fantastic as a 
Chinese pagoda; half from words let fall by gentlemen in 
gaiters; half from the litter in his own mind; about duck 
shooting and legal history; about the Roman occupation 
of Lincoln and the relations of country gentlemen with 
their wives; when; from all this disconnected rambling; 
there suddenly formed itself in his mind the idea that he 
would ask Mary to marry him。 The idea was so spontaneous 
that it seemed to shape itself of its own accord before 
his eyes。 It was then that he turned round and made 
use of his old; instinctive phrase: 

“Well; Mary—?” 

As it presented itself to him at first; the idea was so 
new and interesting that he was half inclined to address 
it; without more ado; to Mary herself。 His natural instinct 
to divide his thoughts carefully into two different classes 
before he expressed them to her prevailed。 But as he 
watched her looking out of the window and describing 
the old lady; the woman with the perambulator; the bailiff 
and the dissenting minister;

返回目录 上一页 下一页 回到顶部 0 0

你可能喜欢的