双语·面纱 第五十七章

57

The night was sultry and Kitty sat at the window looking at the fantastic roofs, dark against the starlight, of the Chinese temple, when at last Walter came in. Her eyes were heavy with weeping, but she was composed. Notwithstanding all there was to harass her she felt, perhaps only from exhaustion, strangely at peace.

“I thought you'd be already in bed,” said Walter as he came in.

“I wasn't sleepy. I thought it cooler to sit up. Have you had any dinner?”

“All I want.”

He walked up and down the long room and she saw that he had something to say to her. She knew that he was embarrassed. Without concern she waited for him to summon up his resolution. He began abruptly.

“I've been thinking about what you told me this afternoon. It seems to me that it would be better if you went away. I have spoken to Colonel Yü and he will give you an escort. You could take the amah with you. You will be quite safe.”

“Where is there for me to go?”

“You can go to your mother's.”

“Do you think she would be pleased to see me?”

He paused for a moment, hesitating, as though for reflection.

“Then you can go to Hong Kong.”

“What should I do there?”

“You will need a good deal of care and attention. I don't think it's fair to ask you to stay here.”

She could not prevent the smile, not only of bitterness but of frank amusement, that crossed her face. She gave him a glance and very nearly laughed.

“I don't know why you should be so anxious about my health.”

He came over to the window and stood looking out at the night. There had never been so many stars in the unclouded sky.

“This isn't the place for a woman in your condition.”

She looked at him, white in his thin clothes against the darkness; there was something sinister in his fine profile, and yet oddly enough at this moment it excited in her no fear.

“When you insisted on my coming here did you want it to kill me?” she asked suddenly.

He was so long answering that she thought he had refused to hear.

“At first.”

She gave a little shudder, for it was the first time he had admitted his intention. But she bore him no ill will for it. Her feeling surprised herself; there was a certain admiration in it and a faint amusement. She did not quite know why, but suddenly thinking of Charlie Townsend he seemed to her an abject fool.

“It was a terrible risk you were taking,” she answered. “With your sensitive conscience I wonder if you could ever have forgiven yourself if I had died.”

“Well, you haven't. You've thrived on it.”

“I've never felt better in my life.”

She had an instinct to throw herself on the mercy of his humor. After all they had gone through, when they were living amid these scenes of horror and desolation, it seemed inept to attach importance to the ridiculous act of fornication. When death stood round the corner, taking lives like a gardener digging up potatoes, it was foolishness to care what dirty things this person or that did with his body. If she could only make him realize how little Charlie meant to her, so that now already she had difficulty in calling up his features to her imagination, and how entirely the love of him had passed out of her heart! Because she had no feeling for Townsend the various acts she had committed with him had lost their significance. She had regained her heart and what she had given of her body seemed not to matter a rap. She was inclined to say to Walter: “Look here, don't you think we've been silly long enough? We've sulked with one another like children. Why can't we kiss and be friends? There's no reason why we shouldn't be friends just because we're not lovers.”

He stood very still and the lamplight made the pallor of his impassive face startling. She did not trust him; if she said the wrong thing he would turn upon her with such an icy sternness. She knew by now his extreme sensitiveness, for which his acid irony was a protection, and how quickly he could close his heart if his feelings were hurt. She had a moment's irritation at his stupidity. Surely what troubled him most was the wound to his vanity: she vaguely realized that this is the hardest of all wounds to heal. It was singular that men attached so much importance to their wives' faithfulness; when first she had gone with Charlie she had expected to feel quite different, a changed woman; but she had seemed to herself exactly the same, she had experienced only well-being and a greater vitality. She wished now that she had been able to tell Walter that the child was his; the lie would have meant so little to her, and the assurance would have been so great a comfort to him. And after all it might not be a lie: it was funny, that something in her heart which had prevented her from giving herself the benefit of the doubt. How silly men were! Their part in procreation was so unimportant; it was the woman who carried the child through long months of uneasiness and bore it with pain, and yet a man because of his momentary connection made such preposterous claims. Why should that make any difference to him in his feelings towards the child? Then Kitty's thoughts wandered to the child which she herself would bear; she thought of it not with emotion nor with a passion of maternity, but with an idle curiosity.

“I dare say you'd like to think it over a little,” said Walter, breaking the long silence.

“Think what?”

He turned a little as if he were surprised.

“About when you want to go?”

“But I don't want to go.”

“Why not?”

“I like my work at the convent. I think I'm making myself useful. I should prefer to stay as long as you do.”

“I think I should tell you that in your present condition you are probably more liable to catch any infection that happens to be about.”

“I like the discreet way you put it,” she smiled ironically.

“You're not staying for my sake?”

She hesitated. He little knew that now the strongest emotion he excited in her, and the most unexpected, was pity.

“No. You don't love me. I often think I rather bore you.”

“I shouldn't have thought you were the sort of person to put yourself out for a few stuffy nuns and a parcel of Chinese brats.”

Her lips outlined a smile.

“I think it's rather unfair to despise me so much because you made such a mistake in your judgment of me. It's not my fault that you were such an ass.”

“If you're determined to stay you are of course at liberty to do so.”

“I'm sorry I can't give you the opportunity of being magnanimous.” She found it strangely hard to be quite serious with him. “As a matter of fact you're quite right, it's not only for the orphans that I'm staying: you see, I'm in the peculiar position that I haven't got a soul in the world that I can go to. I know no one who wouldn't think me a nuisance. I know no one who cares a row of pins if I'm dead or alive.”

He frowned. But he did not frown in anger.

“We have made a dreadful hash of things, haven't we?” he said.

“Do you still want to divorce me? I don't think I care any more.”

“You must know that by bringing you here I've condoned the offence.”

“I didn't know. You see, I haven't made a study of infidelity. What are we going to do then when we leave here? Are we going on living together?”

“Oh, don't you think we can let the future take care of itself?”

There was the weariness of death in his voice.

第五十七章

夜晚很闷热，凯蒂坐在窗户旁边，看着远处那些怪诞的屋顶，在黑夜的星光的照耀下，能够辨别出那些是中国寺庙的屋顶。终于，沃尔特回来了，她的眼睛因为哭得太厉害又红又肿，但是她很镇静。尽管她觉得周围的一切都在骚扰着她，也许只是累极了，令人感到奇怪的是她异常平和。

“我以为你已经睡了。”沃尔特进屋后说道。

“我不困，我想坐起来可能会更凉快点儿。你吃过晚饭了吗？”

“吃过了。”

他在长条形的房间里走来走去，她看出来他有话要对她说。她心里也知道他不知如何开口，她很平静地等着他说出解决方案。他突然开口了。

“我一直在考虑你今天下午告诉我的那些话，在我看来，如果你走了，可能会更好一些。我已经跟余上校谈过了，他会给你派个卫兵，你还可以带着女仆陪着你，路上会很安全的。”

“我还能去哪儿？”

“你可以去你母亲家。”

“你觉得她看见我会高兴吗？”

他停顿了一会儿，有点儿犹豫，好像在考虑什么。

“那你就回香港。”

“在香港我能干什么？”

“你需要有人照料，我觉得让你留在这儿是不公平的。”

她忍不住笑了，笑容中不仅有苦涩，还有直白的嘲弄。她瞥了他一眼，快要笑出了声。

“我不知道为什么你要担心我的健康。”

他走到窗户边，站在那儿注视着夜空，在没有一丝云彩的天空上，从来没有见过有这么多的星星。

“这个地方不适合你这种情况的女人。”

她看着他，瘦削身体上穿着白色的衣服，映衬着黑暗，在他英俊的侧影中有某种危险的东西，然而奇怪的是，此时此刻，并未激起她的恐惧。

“当你坚持要我来这儿的时候，是不是想让我死在这儿？”她突然问道。

他很长时间没有吭声，她觉得他故意在装聋作哑。

“一开始是这样的。”

她浑身一哆嗦，因为这是他第一次承认了自己的动机，但是她宁愿相信他没有这种邪恶的想法。她也不恨他，自己的这种感觉让她吃惊，她甚至有点儿钦佩自己有这种想法，还有那么一点儿觉得好笑。她不知道为什么会这样，但突然她想到了查理，在她现在看来，他不过是个厚颜无耻的蠢货。

“那你是在冒着可怕的风险。”她回答道，“从你敏感的良知的角度来说，我想知道如果我死了，你是否能够原谅你自己。”

“好吧，你不会死的，你活得好好的。”

“在我的生命中，我觉得没有比现在更好的时候了。”

她有一种冲动，想请求他的宽恕，毕竟他们一起经历了那么多，如今在可怕和被遗弃的土地的包围中仍然活着。总是强调通奸的荒唐行为似乎是愚昧无能的表现。当死神就站在角落里，夺去人们的生命就像园丁拔起土豆，关注这个人或那个人在身体上的不洁失贞是愚蠢的。如果她能让他认识到现在查理在她眼中是多么一钱不值就好了！如今她已经在想象中难觅他的身影，对他的爱情早已从她的心里连根拔掉了。因为她对查理已经没有感情了，她和他一起做的很多事已经失去意义了。既然她已经重新找回了自己的内心，她肉体上的出轨似乎就不该受到严厉地抨击了。她有意跟沃尔特说：“你瞧，你难道不认为我们犯傻已经够久了吗？我们像孩子一样相互怄气，为什么我们不能亲吻对方和成为朋友呢？没有理由仅仅因为我们不是情人就不能成为朋友呀。”

他纹丝不动地站在那儿，灯光使得他那张毫无表情、惨白的脸显得很吓人。她不信任他，如果她说错了，他会用冷冰冰的态度对待她。她现在才知道他那极度的敏感，他那尖刻的嘲讽就是一种保护，如果他的感情受到了伤害，他会很快关闭他的心灵。她对他的愚蠢有点儿生气，最困扰他的事无疑就是对他虚荣心的伤害，她依稀意识到这是所有伤害中最难治愈的。男人们把他们妻子的忠贞看得如此之重真是件奇特的事。当她第一次和查理约会的时候，她以为会有完全不同的感觉，一个改变了的女人，但是她似乎还是她自己，完全一样，她不过是体验到了某种幸福和更多的活力。她现在希望能够告诉沃尔特孩子是他的就好了，这句谎言对她来说无所谓，但肯定会给他带来最大的安慰。而且，无论怎样，这句话很可能还不是谎言。真是可笑，在她心中有某种东西已经阻止她从模棱两可的怀疑中给她带来好处。男人们是多么愚蠢呀！他们繁衍后代的角色是如此无关紧要，恰恰是女人在怀胎十月期间承受着不便与痛苦，而一个男人仅仅因为他短暂地与此事相关，便荒唐地宣称自己是个伟大的父亲。孩子亲生与否，对他们真的那么重要吗？然后，凯蒂的思想又转移到了她自己所怀的孩子身上，她想到这一点时，既没有带着亲密的感情，又没有带着母爱的热情，而是带着一种无聊的好奇。

“我敢说，你最好还是三思而行。”沃尔特说道，他的话打破了长时间的沉默。

“三思什么？”

他向她转过脸去，好像很吃惊。

“考虑一下你何时走。”

“可是我不想走。”

“为什么不想走？”

“我喜欢修道院的工作，在那儿我会觉得自己有用，我宁愿和你一起待在这儿。”

“我认为应该告诉你，以你目前的状况，你可能更容易随时感染上霍乱。”

“我喜欢你做事小心谨慎的方式。”她嘲讽地笑着说道。

“你不是因为我的缘故才留下来的吧？”

她犹豫了一下，他一点儿也不知道现在他在她心中所唤起的最强烈的感情，还有最出乎意料的对他的心疼。

“不，你不爱我。我经常想到，我让你感觉很厌烦。”

“我应该想到你不是那种为了一些古板的修女和一群中国的调皮捣蛋鬼不辞辛苦的人。”

她的嘴边露出了一丝微笑。

“我觉得你这么鄙视我是相当不公平的，因为你对我的判断大错特错，你如此愚蠢不是我的错。”

“如果你决定留下，你当然有自由这么做。”

“很抱歉，我不能给你这个显得你宽宏大量的机会。”她很纳闷地发现认真地和他交流变得如此困难，“事实上，你说得很对，不仅仅是因为这些孤儿我愿意留下来，你知道，我现在的处境很特殊，在这个世界上我还没有找到一个可以追随的灵魂。我知道根本没有人在乎我，我知道根本没有人在乎我的生死。”

他皱了皱眉头，但并没有生气。

“我们已经把事情搞得一团糟了，不是吗？”他说道。

“你还想跟我离婚吗？我认为我不在乎了。”

“你一定要明白，把你带到这儿，我已经是在纵容自己犯罪了。”

“我不明白，你知道，我对不忠没有研究过，当我们离开这儿以后，我们会怎么办？我们还会生活在一起吗？”

“噢，你不认为我们可以走一步说一步吗？”

他的声音里，有一种极度的疲惫。