双语·面纱 第三十七章
She saw Waddington every day, for he strolled up the hill to the Fanes' bungalow when his day's work was done; and so after a week they had arrived at an intimacy which under other circumstances they could scarcely have achieved in a year. Once when Kitty told him she didn't know what she would do there without him he answered, laughing:
“You see, you and I are the only people here who walk quite quietly and peaceably on solid ground. The nuns walk in heaven and your husband--in darkness.”
Though she gave a careless laugh she wondered what he meant. She felt that his merry little blue eyes were scanning her face with an amiable, but disconcerting attention. She had discovered already that he was shrewd and she had a feeling that the relations between herself and Walter excited his cynical curiosity. She found a certain amusement in baffling him. She liked him and she knew that he was kindly disposed towards her. He was not witty nor brilliant, but he had a dry and incisive way of putting things which was diverting, and his funny, boyish face under that bald skull, all screwed up with laughter, made his remarks sometimes extremely droll. He had lived for many years in outports, often with no man of his own color to talk to, and his personality had developed in eccentric freedom. He was full of fads and oddities. His frankness was refreshing. He seemed to look upon life in a spirit of banter, and his ridicule of the Colony at Hong Kong was acid; but he laughed also at the Chinese officials at Mei-tan-fu and at the cholera which decimated the city. He could not tell a tragic story or one of heroism without making it faintly absurd. He had many anecdotes of his adventures during twenty years in China, and you concluded from them that the earth was a very grotesque, bizarre and ludicrous place.
Though he denied that he was a Chinese scholar (he swore that the Sinologues were as mad as march hares) he spoke the language with ease. He read little and what he knew he had learned from conversation. But he often told Kitty stories from the Chinese novels and from Chinese history and though he told them with that airy badinage which was natural to him it was good-humoured and even tender. It seemed to her that, perhaps unconsciously, he had adopted the Chinese view that the Europeans were barbarians and their life a folly: in China alone was it so led that a sensible man might discern in it a sort of reality. Here was food for reflection: Kitty had never heard the Chinese spoken of as anything but decadent, dirty and unspeakable. It was as though the corner of a curtain were lifted for a moment, and she caught a glimpse of a world rich with a color and significance she had not dreamt of.
He sat there, talking, laughing, and drinking.
“Don't you think you drink too much?” said Kitty to him boldly.
“It's my great pleasure in life,” he answered. “Besides, it keeps the cholera out.”
When he left her he was generally drunk, but he carried his liquor well. It made him hilarious, but not disagreeable.
One evening Walter, coming back earlier than usual, asked him to stay to dinner. A curious incident happened. They had their soup and their fish and then with the chicken a fresh green salad was handed to Kitty by the boy.
“Good God, you're not going to eat that,” cried Waddington, as he saw Kitty take some.
“Yes, we have it every night.”
“My wife likes it,” said Walter.
The dish was handed to Waddington, but he shook his head.
“Thank you very much, but I'm not thinking of committing suicide just yet.”
Walter smiled grimly and helped himself. Waddington said nothing more, in fact he became strangely taciturn, and soon after dinner he left them.
It was true that they ate salad every night. Two days after their arrival the cook, with the unconcern of the Chinese, had sent it in and Kitty, without thinking, took some. Walter leaned forward quickly.
“You oughtn't to eat that. The boy's crazy to serve it.”
“Why not?” asked Kitty, looking at him full in the face.
“It's always dangerous, it's madness now. You'll kill yourself.”
“I thought that was the idea,” said Kitty.
She began to eat it coolly. She was seized with she knew not what spirit of bravado. She watched Walter with mocking eyes. She thought that he grew a trifle pale, but when the salad was handed to him he helped himself. The cook, finding they did not refuse it, sent them some in every day and every day, courting death, they ate it. It was grotesque to take such a risk. Kitty, in terror of the disease, took it with the feeling not only that she was thus maliciously avenging herself on Walter, but that she was flouting her own desperate fears.
她每天都能见到威廷顿，因为他每天忙完工作后，都要溜达到山上，来到沃尔特家的平房做客。所以，一周之后他们变得很熟悉了，而这种关系要是放在以前的那种情境下，哪怕一年也几乎不可能这么亲密。有一次，当凯蒂告诉他说，如果没有他，她都不知道在这儿干些什么的时候，他笑着回答说：“你瞧，你和我是在这儿脚踏实地走路，十分安静而又平和的人，而修女们是在天堂里走路，而你的丈夫——是在黑暗中走路。”
虽然她不经意地笑笑，但还是想搞清楚他话中的含义。她觉得他快乐的小蓝眼睛正在扫视她的面孔，带着一种和蔼可亲但又有些困惑的神情。她已经发现了他实际上很精明，而且还有一种感觉，那就是她和沃尔特之间的关系激起了他的疑心，某种探奇的乐趣让他跃跃欲试。她喜欢他，也知道他能够友善地对待她，他既不聪明机智，也不才华横溢，但是他有种能够直截了当、拨乱反正的能力，而且在秃头之下，他滑稽的、孩子般的面孔由于大笑而变得扭曲，使得他的话有时格外的离奇古怪。他生活在这个边远村落有很多年了，通常没有同自己肤色一样的人来交谈，所以他的性格已经变得奇特而无拘无束，简直就是个古灵精怪的人，他的率真也让人耳目一新，似乎是用一种取乐的精神来看待生活。他对在香港的殖民极尽讽刺挖苦之能事，但他也嘲笑湄潭府的中国官员，甚至嘲笑使得城市死人无数的霍乱。他讲的悲剧故事或者英雄传奇也往往带上略微的荒诞色彩。对于在中国二十年间的冒险经历，他有很多奇闻逸事可讲，而且从这些逸事中，你能得出结论，我们所在的这个星球真是个荒诞不经、离奇古怪、荒唐可笑的地方。
虽然他否认他是个中国通（他发誓汉语像天书一样），但他汉语说得很流利。他基本上不读书看报，他所了解的知识都是从聊天中得来的。然而，他经常给凯蒂讲从中国小说和历史书上得来的故事，虽然他讲这些故事时是以打趣的口吻，对他来说这种口吻习以为常，但给凯蒂讲时却是生动活泼的，甚至还有些温柔。也许对于凯蒂，他无意识地采用了中国人的看法，认为欧洲人都是些野蛮人，他们的生活是一出讽刺剧，只有在中国，一个明智的人才能在混乱的生活中区分出现实。凯蒂从来没听到过中国人谈论过诸如此类的话，他们只谈论堕落、肮脏和无法启齿的话。就好像窗帘的一角被暂时掀了起来，她瞥见了一个丰富的世界，充满了她从未梦想过的色彩和意义。
他坐在那儿，一边聊着、笑着，一边喝着。
“你不认为你喝酒喝得太多了吗？”凯蒂有些唐突地对他说道。
“它是我生活的乐趣。”他回答说，“而且，它能预防霍乱呢。”
每次离开她家时，他通常都已经喝得醉醺醺了，但他却从来不呕吐，使得他非常滑稽，但是还是很和善。
有一天傍晚，沃尔特比平时回来得早一些，邀请威廷顿留下来吃晚饭。发生了一件稀奇的事。他们吃着鱼，喝着汤，然后仆人递给了凯蒂一份沙拉，鸡肉拌新鲜的绿色蔬菜。
“老天，你不要吃那个东西。”当威廷顿看到凯蒂正在往盘子里拨一些沙拉时，他喊道。
“没问题呀，我们每天晚上都吃这个。”
“我妻子喜欢这道菜。”沃尔特说道。
这道菜被递到了威廷顿的面前，但是他摇了摇头。
“多谢了，但我现在还不想自杀。”
沃尔特冷笑了一下，自己夹了一些沙拉。威廷顿不再吭声，事实上，他令人奇怪地不怎么爱说话了，晚饭后不久，他就向他们告辞了。
他们每天晚上都吃沙拉倒是千真万确，在他们到达后的两天，漫不经心的中国厨子就给他们端上了沙拉，而凯蒂没有丝毫犹豫，就吃了一些。沃尔特很快探过身去。
“你不应该吃的，这个厨子真是疯了，还上这道菜。”
“为什么不能吃？”凯蒂问道，直视着他的脸。
“吃生菜会有风险，这真是疯了，你会让自己送命的。”
“我觉得那正好。”凯蒂说道。
她不紧不慢地开始吃了起来，心里知道自己这样做并不是勇敢。她用嘲弄的眼光注视着沃尔特，看出他的脸色有点儿变白了，但把沙拉递给他时，他自己也拨到盘子里开始吃了。厨子发现他们并没有拒绝，就天天都给他们准备沙拉，他们也好像在追逐死亡似的，上来就吃，甘冒这样的风险，也真是稀奇古怪的行为。凯蒂其实对瘟疫怕得要死，吃沙拉时怀着一种心情，她不仅用这种方式对沃尔特进行威胁报复，而且表现出她对绝望恐惧的蔑视。
