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[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第95部分


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to see that he writes that letter to Judson。 You’re too 
busy; I suppose; to e on to our mittee?” She spoke 
in the most impersonal manner。 

“I may be out of town;” Ralph replied; with equal distance 
of manner。 

“Our executive meets every week; of course;” she observed。 
“But some of our members don’t e more than 
once a month。 Members of Parliament are the worst; it 
was a mistake; I think; to ask them。” 

She went on sewing in silence。 

338 



Virginia Woolf 

“You’ve not taken your quinine;” she said; looking up 
and seeing the tabloids upon the mantelpiece。 

“I don’t want it;” said Ralph shortly。 

“Well; you know best;” she replied tranquilly。 

“Mary; I’m a brute!” he exclaimed。 “Here I e and 
waste your time; and do nothing but make myself disagreeable。” 


“A cold ing on does make one feel wretched;” she 
replied。 

“I’ve not got a cold。 That was a lie。 There’s nothing the 
matter with me。 I’m mad; I suppose。 I ought to have had 
the decency to keep away。 But I wanted to see you—I 
wanted to tell you—I’m in love; Mary。” He spoke the word; 
but; as he spoke it; it seemed robbed of substance。 

“In love; are you?” she said quietly。 “I’m glad; Ralph。” 

“I suppose I’m in love。 Anyhow; I’m out of my mind。 I 
can’t think; I can’t work; I don’t care a hang for anything 
in the world。 Good Heavens; Mary! I’m in torment! One 
moment I’m happy; next I’m miserable。 I hate her for half 
an hour; then I’d give my whole life to be with her for ten 
minutes; all the time I don’t know what I feel; or why I 

feel it; it’s insanity; and yet it’s perfectly reasonable。 Can 
you make any sense of it? Can you see what’s happened? 
I’m raving; I know; don’t listen; Mary; go on with your 
work。” 

He rose and began; as usual; to pace up and down the 
room。 He knew that what he had just said bore very little 
resemblance to what he felt; for Mary’s presence acted 
upon him like a very strong mag; drawing from him 
certain expressions which were not those he made use of 
when he spoke to himself; nor did they represent his 
deepest feelings。 He felt a little contempt for himself at 
having spoken thus; but somehow he had been forced 
into speech。 

“Do sit down;” said Mary suddenly。 “You make me so— 
” She spoke with unusual irritability; and Ralph; noticing 
it with surprise; sat down at once。 

“You haven’t told me her name—you’d rather not; I 
suppose?” 

“Her name? Katharine Hilbery。” 

“But she’s engaged—” 

“To Rodney。 They’re to be married in September。” 

339 



Night and Day 

“I see;” said Mary。 But in truth the calm of his manner; 
now that he was sitting down once more; wrapt her in 
the presence of something which she felt to be so strong; 
so mysterious; so incalculable; that she scarcely dared to 
attempt to intercept it by any word or question that she 
was able to frame。 She looked at Ralph blankly; with a 
kind of awe in her face; her lips slightly parted; and her 
brows raised。 He was apparently quite unconscious of her 
gaze。 Then; as if she could look no longer; she leant back 
in her chair; and half closed her eyes。 The distance between 
them hurt her terribly; one thing after another 
came into her mind; tempting her to assail Ralph with 
questions; to force him to confide in her; and to enjoy 
once more his intimacy。 But she rejected every impulse; 
for she could not speak without doing violence to some 
reserve which had grown between them; putting them a 
little far from each other; so that he seemed to her dignified 
and remote; like a person she no longer knew well。 

“Is there anything that I could do for you?” she asked 
gently; and even with courtesy; at length。 

“You could see her—no; that’s not what I want; you 

mustn’t bother about me; Mary。” He; too; spoke very gently。 


“I’m afraid no third person can do anything to help;” 
she added。 

“No;” he shook his head。 “Katharine was saying today 
how lonely we are。” She saw the effort with which he 
spoke Katharine’s name; and believed that he forced himself 
to make amends now for his concealment in the past。 
At any rate; she was conscious of no anger against him; 
but rather of a deep pity for one condemned to suffer as 
she had suffered。 But in the case of Katharine it was 
different; she was indignant with Katharine。 

“There’s always work;” she said; a little aggressively。 

Ralph moved directly。 

“Do you want to be working now?” he asked。 

“No; no。 It’s Sunday;” she replied。 “I was thinking of 
Katharine。 She doesn’t understand about work。 She’s never 
had to。 She doesn’t know what work is。 I’ve only found 
out myself quite lately。 But it’s the thing that saves one— 
I’m sure of that。” 

“There are other things; aren’t there?” he hesitated。 

340 



Virginia Woolf 

“Nothing that one can count upon;” she returned。 “After 
all; other people—” she stopped; but forced herself to go 
on。 “Where should I be now if I hadn’t got to go to my 
office every day? Thousands of people would tell you the 
same thing—thousands of women。 I tell you; work is the 
only thing that saved me; Ralph。” He set his mouth; as if 
her words rained blows on him; he looked as if he had 
made up his mind to bear anything she might say; in silence。 
He had deserved it; and there would be relief in 
having to bear it。 But she broke off; and rose as if to fetch 
something from the next room。 Before she reached the 
door she turned back; and stood facing him; selfpossessed; 
and yet defiant and formidable in her posure。 

“It’s all turned out splendidly for me;” she said。 “It will 
for you; too。 I’m sure of that。 Because; after all; Katharine 
is worth it。” 

“Mary—!” he exclaimed。 But her head was turned away; 
and he could not say what he wished to say。 “Mary; you’re 
splendid;” he concluded。 She faced him as he spoke; and 
gave him her hand。 She had suffered and relinquished; 
she had seen her future turned from one of infinite promise 

to one of barrenness; and yet; somehow; over what she 
scarcely knew; and with what results she could hardly 
foretell; she had conquered。 With Ralph’s eyes upon her; 
smiling straight back at him serenely and proudly; she 
knew; for the first time; that she had conquered。 She let 
him kiss her hand。 

The streets were empty enough on Sunday night; and if 
the Sabbath; and the domestic amusements proper to the 
Sabbath; had not kept people indoors; a high strong wind 
might very probably have done so。 Ralph Denham was 
aware of a tumult in the street much in accordance with 
his own sensations。 The gusts; sweeping along the Strand; 
seemed at the same time to blow a clear space across the 
sky in which stars appeared; and for a short time the 
quickspeeding silver moon riding through clouds; as if 
they were waves of water surging round her and over her。 
They swamped her; but she emerged; they broke over her 
and covered her again; she issued forth indomitable。 In 
the country fields all the wreckage of winter was being 
dispersed; the dead leaves; the withered bracken; the dry 
and discolored grass; but no bud would be broken; nor 

341 



Night and Day 

would the new stalks that showed above the earth take 
any harm; and perhaps tomorrow a line of blue or yellow 
would show through a slit in their green。 But the whirl of 
the atmosphere alone was in Denham’s mood; and what 
of star or blossom appeared was only as a light gleaming 
for a second upon heaped waves fast following each other。 
He had not been able to speak to Mary; though for a 
moment he had e near enough to be tantalized by a 
wonderful possibility of understanding。 But the desire to 
municate something of the very greatest importance 
possessed him pletely; he still wished to bestow this 
gift upon some other human being; he sought their pany。 
More by instinct than by conscious choice; he took 
the direction which led to Rodney’s rooms。 He knocked 
loudly upon his door; but no one answered。 He rang the 
bell。 It took him some time to ac

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