雙語·面紗 第十八章

18

He came into the room. Her heart was beating wildly and her hands were shaking; it was lucky that she lay on the sofa. She was holding an open book as though she had been reading. He stood for an instant on the threshold and their eyes met. Her heart sank; she felt on a sudden a cold chill pass through her limbs and she shivered. She had that feeling which you describe by saying that some one was walking over your grave. His face was deathly pale; she had seen it like that once before, when they sat together in the Park and he asked her to marry him. His dark eyes, immobile and inscrutable, seemed pretematurally large. He knew everything.

“You're back early,” she remarked.

Her lips trembled so that she could hardly frame the words. She was terrified. She was afraid she would faint.

“I think it's about the usual time.”

His voice sounded strange to her. It was raised on the last word in order to give his remark a casual air, but it was forced. She wondered if he saw that she was shaking in every limb. It was only by an effort that she did not scream. He dropped his eyes.

“I'm just going to dress.”

He left the room. She was shattered. For two or three minutes she could not stir, but at last, raising herself from the sofa, with difficulty, as though she had had an illness and were still weak, she found her feet. She did not know if her legs would support her. She felt her way by means of chairs and tables to the verandah and then with one hand on the wall went to her room. She put on a tea-gown and when she went back into her boudoir (they only used the drawing-room when there was a party) he was standing at a table looking at the pictures of the Sketch. She had to force herself to enter.

“Shall we go down? Dinner is ready.”

“Have I kept you waiting?”

It was dreadful that she could not control the trembling of her lips.

When was he going to speak?

They sat down and for a moment there was silence between them. Then he made a remark and because it was so commonplace it had a sinister air.

“The Empress didn't come in to-day,” he said.“I wonder if she's been delayed by a storm.”

“Was she due to-day?”

“Yes.”

She looked at him now and saw that his eyes were fixed on his plate. He made another observation, equally trivial, about a tennis tournament that was about to be played, and he spoke at length. His voice as a rule was agreeable, with a variety of tone, but now he spoke on one note. It was strangely unnatural. It gave Kitty the impression that he was speaking from a long way off. And all the time his eyes were directed to his plate, or the table, or to a picture on the wall. He would not meet hers. She realised that he could not bear to look at her.

“Shall we go upstairs?” he said when dinner was finished.

“If you like.”

She rose and he held open the door for her. His eyes were cast down as she passed him. When they reached the sittingroom he took up the illustrated paper once more.

“Is this a new Sketch? I don't think I've seen it.”

“I don't know. I haven't noticed.”

It had been lying about for a fortnight and she knew that he had looked it through and through. He took it and sat down. She lay again on the sofa and took her book. As a rule in the evening, when they were alone, they played coon-can or patience. He was leaning back in an arm-chair, in a comfortable attitude, and his attention seemed absorbed by the illustration he was looking at. He did not turn the page. She tried to read, but she could not see the print before her eyes. The words were blurred. Her head began to ache violently.

When would he speak?

They sat in silence for an hour. She gave up the pretence of reading, and letting her novel fall on her lap, gazed into space. She was afraid to make the smallest gesture or the smallest sound. He sat quite still, in that same easy attitude, and stared with those wide, immobile eyes of his at the picture. His stillness was strangely menacing. It gave Kitty the feeling of a wild beast prepared to spring.

When suddenly he stood up she started. She clenched her hands and she felt herself grow pale. Now!

“I have some work to do,” he said in that quiet, toneless voice, his eyes averted. “If you don't mind I'll go into my study. I daresay you'll have gone to bed by the time I've finished.”

“I am rather tired to-night.”

“Well, good-night.”

“Good-night.”

He left the room.

第十八章

他走進了房間。她的心怦怦直跳，手也不知不覺地在顫抖。慶幸的是，她正斜靠在沙發(fā)上，手上拿著一本攤開的書，好像她在他回來之前一直在看書。他在門口站了片刻，兩人的目光相遇了。她的心又沉了下去，突然覺得一股寒意穿過了四肢。她打了個寒戰(zhàn)，感覺到了俗話說的那種有人在墳頭走過的感覺。他的臉色像死人一樣慘白，她曾經(jīng)見過一次，就是他們一起坐在公園里，他向她求婚的那次。他烏黑的眼珠目不轉睛而且深不可測，好像異乎尋常地睜大了看著她。他已經(jīng)知道了一切。

“你今天回來早了?！彼蚱屏顺聊?。

她的嘴唇顫抖著，幾乎都聽不清自己在說些什么。她很害怕，擔心自己會暈過去。

“我覺得回來的時間跟往常沒什么不同?！?/p>

對她來說，他的聲音聽上去挺奇怪。他在說最后一個字時，聲調高了上去，好像讓他的話有種隨便的口吻，但是顯得很生硬，像是故意的。她想知道，如果他看到了她渾身在顫抖會怎樣。她努力克制著不讓自己喊叫出來。他垂下眼簾。

“我去換身衣服。”

他離開了房間，她快崩潰了，有那么兩三分鐘她都動不了身子。但終于，她還是很困難地從沙發(fā)上站了起來，好像大病初愈，仍然很虛弱。她挪動了一下腳步，不知道她的腿能否支撐住自己。她摸著桌椅向陽臺方向走去，然后用一只手扶著墻進了自己的臥室。她穿上了一件在家里穿的長裙，然后又回到了她的化妝間（他們只是在舉行聚會時才使用客廳）。他正站在一張餐桌前，翻看著《摘要報》，她硬著頭皮走進了房間。

“我們下樓吧，晚餐已經(jīng)準備好了?！?/p>

“我讓你久等了嗎？”

真是要命，她無法控制住聲音的顫抖。

什么時候他會把窗戶紙捅破？

他們坐下來，有一陣子兩人相對無語。然后他開口打破了沉默，因為他所說的是無聊瑣事，反而有種不祥的氣氛。

“‘女皇號’今天沒有回來?！彼f道，“我想船可能被暴風雨給耽擱了?！?/p>

“它本來是應該今天進港的嗎？”

“是的?！?/p>

她現(xiàn)在才看了他一眼，注意到他的眼睛正盯著面前的盤子。他又開始聊另一件事，同樣也無關緊要，一場網(wǎng)球錦標賽馬上就要開始了，而且他一股腦兒說了半天。通常，他說話的聲音帶著不同的口吻，讓人感到很舒服，而現(xiàn)在他的聲音好像只有一個調兒，干巴巴的，顯得怪怪的，不自然。這讓凱蒂感覺到他說話正在兜圈子，而且他的眼睛一直盯著盤子，或者桌子，或者墻上的畫，回避著她的目光，她意識到他不想多看她一眼。

“我們可以上樓去嗎？”當晚飯吃完的時候，他說道。

“如果你想上樓，可以。”

她站起身來，他為她打開了門。當她從他身邊走過的時候，他的目光落在了她身上。他們到了客廳，他再一次拿起了報紙。

“這是新一期的《摘要報》嗎？我覺得我以前沒看過?！?/p>

“我不知道，我也沒注意?！?/p>

這份報紙在那兒大約有兩周的時間了，她知道他已經(jīng)看過它好幾遍了。他拿著它坐了下來，她靠在沙發(fā)上也拿起了書。在平常的晚上，當他們單獨待在一起的時候，一般情況下，他們會玩一陣碰對牌游戲或者單人紙牌游戲。而此時，他用一種舒服的姿勢斜坐在一把扶手椅上，他的注意力似乎被手上的圖片所吸引，半天沒有翻動一頁報紙。她也想努力地把書讀進去，但是眼前的字她根本讀不進去，這些印刷的字都是模糊的。她的頭開始痛得厲害。

他到底什么時候開口呀？

他們靜靜地坐了大約有一個小時，她放棄了閱讀的努力，讓她的小說攤在膝蓋上，眼睛茫然地看著眼前的空氣。她害怕做出最微小的動作或者發(fā)出最微弱的聲音。他也一動不動地坐著，帶著同樣放松的神態(tài)，但是用大大的、呆滯的眼睛盯著圖片。他的紋絲不動帶給人的是一種奇怪的威脅，讓凱蒂感到一頭猛獸要準備向前一撲。

突然他站了起來，著實嚇了她一跳。她握緊了拳頭，覺得自己的臉色又變白了。這個時刻來了！

“我還有些工作要做?！彼靡环N安靜、毫無感情的聲音說道，眼睛看著別處，“如果你不介意的話，我要去我的書房了。我敢說在我完成工作的時候，你已經(jīng)上床睡了。”

“我今晚很累?！?/p>

“那好吧，晚安。”

“晚安。”

他離開了房間。