[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第59部分

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told　you　half；　either。　I’m　no　longer　engaged　to　William　
Rodney。　He　is　to　marry　Cassandra　Otway。　It’s　all　arranged—　
all　perfectly　right…　。　And　after　he’d　waited　in　the　streets　
for　hours　and　hours；　William　made　me　bring　him　in。　He　
was　standing　under　the　lamppost　watching　our　windows。　
He　was　perfectly　white　when　he　came　into　the　room。　
William　left　us　alone；　and　we　sat　and　talked。　It　seems　
ages　and　ages　ago；　now。　Was　it　last　night？　Have　I　been　
out　long？　What’s　the　time？”　She　sprang　forward　to　catch　
sight　of　a　clock；　as　if　the　exact　time　had　some　important　
bearing　on　her　case。　

“Only　halfpast　eight！”　she　exclaimed。　“Then　he　may　be　
there　still。”　She　leant　out　of　the　window　and　told　the　
cabman　to　drive　faster。　

“But　if　he’s　not　there；　what　shall　I　do？　Where　could　I　
find　him？　The　streets　are　so　crowded。”　

“We　shall　find　him；”　Mary　repeated。　

Mary　had　no　doubt　but　that　somehow　or　other　they　would　
find　him。　But　suppose　they　did　find　him？　She　began　to　
think　of　Ralph　with　a　sort　of　strangeness；　in　her　effort　to　
understand　how　he　could　be　capable　of　satisfying　this　extraordinary　
desire。　Once　more　she　thought　herself　back　to　
her　old　view　of　him　and　could；　with　an　effort；　recall　the　
haze　which　surrounded　his　figure；　and　the　sense　of　confused；　
heightened　exhilaration　which　lay　all　about　his　neighborhood；　
so　that　for　months　at　a　time　she　had　never　exactly　
heard　his　voice　or　seen　his　face—or　so　it　now　seemed　
to　her。　The　pain　of　her　loss　shot　through　her。　Nothing　
would　ever　make　up—not　success；　or　happiness；　or　oblivion。　
But　this　pang　was　immediately　followed　by　the　assurance　
that　now；　at　any　rate；　she　knew　the　truth；　and　Katharine；　
she　thought；　stealing　a　look　at　her；　did　not　know　the　truth；　
yes；　Katharine　was　immensely　to　be　pitied。　

The　cab；　which　had　been　caught　in　the　traffic；　was　now　
liberated　and　sped　on　down　Sloane　Street。　Mary　was　con


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scious　of　the　tension　with　which　Katharine　marked　its　
progress；　as　if　her　mind　were　fixed　upon　a　point　in　front　
of　them；　and　marked；　second　by　second；　their　approach　
to　it。　She　said　nothing；　and　in　silence　Mary　began　to　fix　
her　mind；　in　sympathy　at　first；　and　later　in　forgetfulness　
of　her　panion；　upon　a　point　in　front　of　them。　She　
imagined　a　point　distant　as　a　low　star　upon　the　horizon　
of　the　dark。　There　for　her　too；　for　them　both；　was　the　
goal　for　which　they　were　striving；　and　the　end　for　the　
ardors　of　their　spirits　was　the　same：　but　where　it　was；　or　
what　it　was；　or　why　she　felt　convinced　that　they　were　
united　in　search　of　it；　as　they　drove　swiftly　down　the　
streets　of　London　side　by　side；　she　could　not　have　said。　

“At　last；”　Katharine　breathed；　as　the　cab　drew　up　at　the　
door。　She　jumped　out　and　scanned　the　pavement　on　either　
side。　Mary；　meanwhile；　rang　the　bell。　The　door　opened　
as　Katharine　assured　herself　that　no　one　of　the　people　
within　view　had　any　likeness　to　Ralph。　On　seeing　her；　the　
maid　said　at　once：　

“Mr。　Denham　called　again；　miss。　He　has　been　waiting　
for　you　for　some　time。”　

Katharine　vanished　from　Mary’s　sight。　The　door　shut　
between　them；　and　Mary　walked　slowly　and　thoughtfully　
up　the　street　alone。　

Katharine　turned　at　once　to　the　diningroom。　But　with　
her　fingers　upon　the　handle；　she　held　back。　Perhaps　she　
realized　that　this　was　a　moment　which　would　never　e　
again。　Perhaps；　for　a　second；　it　seemed　to　her　that　no　
reality　could　equal　the　imagination　she　had　formed。　Perhaps　
she　was　restrained　by　some　vague　fear　or　anticipation；　
which　made　her　dread　any　exchange　or　interruption。　
But　if　these　doubts　and　fears　or　this　supreme　bliss　
restrained　her；　it　was　only　for　a　moment。　In　another　second　
she　had　turned　the　handle　and；　biting　her　lip　to　
control　herself；　she　opened　the　door　upon　Ralph　Denham。　
An　extraordinary　clearness　of　sight　seemed　to　possess　
her　on　beholding　him。　So　little；　so　single；　so　separate　
from　all　else　he　appeared；　who　had　been　the　cause　of　
these　extreme　agitations　and　aspirations。　She　could　have　
laughed　in　his　face。　But；　gaining　upon　this　clearness　of　
sight　against　her　will；　and　to　her　dislike；　was　a　flood　of　
confusion；　of　relief；　of　certainty；　of　humility；　of　desire　no　

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longer　to　strive　and　to　discriminate；　yielding　to　which；　
she　let　herself　sink　within　his　arms　and　confessed　her　
love。　

CHAPTER　XXXII　


Nobody　asked　Katharine　any　questions　next　day。　If　cross
examined　she　might　have　said　that　nobody　spoke　to　her。　
She　worked　a　little；　wrote　a　little；　ordered　the　dinner；　and　
sat；　for　longer　than　she　knew；　with　her　head　on　her　hand　
piercing　whatever　lay　before　her；　whether　it　was　a　letter　
or　a　dictionary；　as　if　it　were　a　film　upon　the　deep　prospects　
that　revealed　themselves　to　her　kindling　and　brooding　
eyes。　She　rose　once；　and　going　to　the　bookcase；　took　
out　her　father’s　Greek　dictionary　and　spread　the　sacred　
pages　of　symbols　and　figures　before　her。　She　smoothed　
the　sheets　with　a　mixture　of　affectionate　amusement　and　
hope。　Would　other　eyes　look　on　them　with　her　one　day？　
The　thought；　long　intolerable；　was　now　just　bearable。　

She　was　quite　unaware　of　the　anxiety　with　which　her　
movements　were　watched　and　her　expression　scanned。　
Cassandra　was　careful　not　to　be　caught　looking　at　her；　
and　their　conversation　was　so　prosaic　that　were　it　not　for　
certain　jolts　and　jerks　between　the　sentences；　as　if　the　
mind　were　kept　with　difficulty　to　the　rails；　Mrs。　Milvain　

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herself　could　have　detected　nothing　of　a　suspicious　nature　
in　what　she　overheard。　

William；　when　he　came　in　late　that　afternoon　and　found　
Cassandra　alone；　had　a　very　serious　piece　of　news　to　impart。　
He　had　just　passed　Katharine　in　the　street　and　she　
had　failed　to　recognize　him。　

“That　doesn’t　matter　with　me；　of　course；　but　suppose　it　
happened　with　somebody　else？　What　would　they　think？　
They　would　suspect　something　merely　from　her　expression。　
She　looked—she　looked”—he　hesitated—”like　some　
one　walking　in　her　sleep。”　

To　Cassandra　the　significant　thing　was　that　Katharine　
had　gone　out　without　telling　her；　and　she　interpreted　
this　to　mean　that　she　had　gone　out　to　meet　Ralph　Denham。　
But　to　her　surprise　William　drew　no　fort　from　this　
probability。　

“Once　throw　conventions　aside；”　he　began；　“once　do　
the　things　that　people　don’t　do—”　and　the　fact　that　you　
are　going　to　meet　a　young　man　is　no　longer　proof　of　
anything；　except；　indeed；　that　people　will　talk。　

Cassandra　saw；　not　without　a　pang　of　jealousy；　that　he　

was　extremely　solicitous　that　people　should　not　talk　about　
Katharine；　as　if　his　interest　in　her　were　still　proprietary　
rather　than　friendly。　As　they　were　both　ignorant　of　Ralph’s　
visit　the　night　before　they　had　not　that　reason　to　fort　
themselves　with　the　thought　that　matters　were　hastening　
to　a　crisis。　These　absences　of　Katharine’s；　moreover；　
left　them　exposed　to　interruptions　which　almost　
destroyed　their　pleasure　in　being　alone　together。　The　rainy　
evening　made　it　impossible　to　go　out；　and；　indeed；　according　
to　William’s　code；　it　was　considerably　more　damning　
to　be　seen　out　of　doors　than　surprised　within。　They　
were　so　much　at　the　mercy　of　bells　and　doors　that　they　
could　hardly　talk　of　Macaulay　with　any　conviction；　and　
William　preferred　to　defer　the　second　act　of　his　tragedy　
until　another　day。　

Under　these　circumstances　Cassandra　showed　herself　at　
her　best。　She　sympathized　with　William’s　anxieties　and　
did　her　utmost　to　share　them；　but　still；　to　be　alone　together；　
to　be　running　risks　together；　to　be　partners　in　the　
wonderful　conspiracy；　was　to　her　so　enthralling　that　she　
was　always　forgetting　discretion；　breaking　out　into　ex


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clamations　and　admirations　which　finally　made　William　
believe　that；　although　deplorable　and　upsetting；　the　situation　
was　not　without　its　sweetness。　

When　the　door　did　open；　he　started；　but　braved　the　
forthing　revelation。　It　was　not　Mrs。　Milvain；　however；　
but　Katharine　herself　who　entered；　closely　followed　
by　Ralph　Denham。　With　a　set　expression　which　showed　
what　an　effort　she　was　making；　Katharine　encountered　
their　eyes；　and　saying；　“We’re　not　going　to　interrupt　you；”　
she　led　Denham　behind　the　curtain　which　hung　in　front　
of　the　room　with　the　relics。　This　refuge　was　none　of　her　
willing；　but　confronted　with　wet　pavements　and　only　some　
belated　museum　or　Tube　station　for　shelter；　she　was　forced；　
for　Ralph’s　sake；　to　face　the　disforts　of　her　own　house。　
Under　the　street　lamps　she　had　thought　him　looking　both　
tired　and　strained。　

Thus　separated；　the　two　couples　remained　occupied　for　
some　time　with　their　own　affairs。　Only　the　lowest　murmurs　
perated　from　one　section　of　the　room　to　the　
other。　At　length　the　maid　came　in　to　bring　a　message　
that　Mr。　Hilbery　would　not　be　home　for　dinner。　It　was　

true　that　there　was　no　need　that　Katharine　should　be　
informed；　but　William　began　to　inquire　Cassandra’s　opinion　
in　such　a　way　as　to　show　that；　with　or　without　reason；　
he　wished　very　much　to　speak　to　her。　

From　motives　of　her　own　Cassandra　dissuaded　him。　

“But　don’t　you　think　it’s　a　little　unsociable？”　he　
hazarded。　“Why　not　do　something　amusing？—go　to　the　
play；　for　instance？　Why　not　ask　Katharine　and　Ralph；　eh？”　
The　coupling　of　their　names　in　this　manner　caused　
Cassandra’s　heart　to　leap　with　pleasure。　

“Don’t　you　think　they　must　be—？”　she　began；　but　William　
hastily　took　her　up。　

“Oh；　I　know　nothing　about　that。　I　only　thought　we　
might　amuse　ourselves；　as　your　uncle’s　out。”　

He　proceeded　on　his　embassy　with　a　mixture　of　excitement　
and　embarrassment　which　caused　him　to　turn　aside　
with　his　hand　on　the　curtain；　and　to　examine　intently　for　
several　moments　the　portrait　of　a　lady；　optimistically　said　
by　Mrs。　Hilbery　to　be　an　early　work　of　Sir　Joshua　Reynolds。　
Then；　with　some　unnecessary　fumbling；　he　drew　aside　
the　curtain；　and　with　his　eyes　fixed　upon　the　ground；　

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repeated　his　message　and　suggested　that　they　should　all　
spend　the　evening　at　the　play。　Katharine　accepted　the　
suggestion　with　such　cordiality　that　it　was　strange　to　
find　her　of　no　clear　mind　as　to　the　precise　spectacle　she　
wished　to　see。　She　left　the　choice　entirely　to　Ralph　and　
William；　who；　taking　counsel　fraternally　over　an　evening　
paper；　found　themselves　in　agreement　as　to　the　merits　of　
a　musichall。　This　being　arranged；　everything　else　followed　
easily　and　enthusiastically。　Cassandra　had　never　
been　to　a　musichall。　Katharine　instructed　her　in　the　peculiar　
delights　of　an　entertainment　where　Polar　bears　follow　
directly　upon　ladies　in　full　evening　dress；　and　the　
stage　is　alternately　a　garden　of　mystery；　a　milliner’s　bandbox；　
and　a　friedfish　shop　in　the　Mile　End　Road。　Whatever　
the　exact　nature　of　the　program　that　night；　it　fulfilled　
the　highest　purposes　of　dramatic　art；　so　far；　at　least；　
as　four　of　the　audience　were　concerned。　

No　doubt　the　actors　and　the　authors　would　have　been　
surprised　to　learn　in　what　shape　their　efforts　reached　
those　particular　eyes　and　ears；　but　they　could　not　have　
denied　that　the　effect　as　a　whole　was　tremendous。　The　

hall　resounded　with　brass　and　strings；　alternately　of　enormous　
pomp　and　majesty；　and　then　of　sweetest　lamentation。　
The　reds　and　creams　of　the　background；　the　lyres　
and　harps　and　urns　and　skulls；　the　protuberances　of　plaster；　
the　fringes　of　scarlet　plush；　the　sinking　and　blazing　
of　innumerable　electric　lights；　could　scarcely　have　been　
surpassed　for　decorative　effect　by　any　craftsman　of　the　
ancient　or　modern　world。　

Then　there　was　the　audience　itself；　bareshouldered；　
tufted　and　garlanded　in　the　stalls；　decorous　but　festal　in　
the　balconies；　and　frankly　fit　for　daylight　and　street　life　
in　the　galleries。　But；　however　they　differed　when　looked　
at　separately；　they　shared　the　same　huge；　lovable　nature　
in　the　bulk；　which　murmured　and　swayed　and　quivered　all　
the　time　the　dancing　and　juggling　and　lovemaking　went　
on　in　front　of　it；　slowly　laughed　and　reluctantly　left　off　
laughing；　and　applauded　with　a　helterskelter　generosity　
which　sometimes　became　unanimous　and　overwhelming。　
Once　William　saw　Katharine　leaning　forward　and　clapping　
her　hands　with　an　abandonment　that　startled　him。　Her　
laugh　rang　out　with　the　laughter　of　the　audience。　

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For　a　second　he　was　puzzled；　as　if　this　laughter　disclosed　
something　that　he　had　never　suspected　in　her。　
But　then　Cassandra’s　face　caught　his　eye；　gazing　with　
astonishment　at　the　buffoon；　not　laughing；　too　deeply　
intent　and　surprised　to　laugh　at　what　she　saw；　and　for　
some　moments　he　watched　her　as　if　she　were　a　child。　

The　performance　came　to　an　end；　the　illusion　dying　out　
first　here　and　then　there；　as　some　rose　to　put　on　their　
coats；　others　stood　upright　to　salute　“God　Save　the　King；”　
the　musicians　folded　their　music　and　encased　their　instruments；　
and　the　lights　sank　one　by　one　until　the　house　was　
empty；　silent；　and　full　of　great　shadows。　Looking　back　over　
her　shoulder　as　she　followed　Ralph　through　the　swing　doors；　
Cassandra　marveled　to　see　how　the　stage　was　already　entirely　
without　romance。　But；　she　wondered；　did　they　really　
cover　all　the　seats　in　brown　holland　every　night？　

The　success　of　this　entertainment　was　such　that　before　
they　separated　another　expedition　had　been　planned　for　
the　next　day。　The　next　day　was　Saturday；　therefore　both　
William　and　Ralph　were　free　to　devote　the　whole　afternoon　
to　an　expedition　to　Greenwich；　which　Cassandra　

had　never　seen；　and　Katharine　confused　with　Dulwich。　
On　this　occasion　Ralph　was　their　guide。　He　brought　them　
without　accident　to　Greenwich。　

What　exigencies　of　state　or　fantasies　of　imagination　
first　gave　birth　to　the　cluster　of　pleasant　places　by　which　
London　is　surrounded　is　matter　of　indifference　now　that　
they　have　adapted　themselves　so　admirably　to　the　needs　
of　people　between　the　ages　of　twenty　and　thirty　with　
Saturday　afternoons　to　spend。　Indeed；　if　ghosts　have　any　
interest　in　the　affections　of　those　who　succeed　them　they　
must　reap　their　richest　harvests　when　the　fine　weather　
es　again　and　the　lovers；　the　sightseers；　and　the　holiday
makers　pour　themselves　out　of　trains　and　omnibuses　
into　their　old　pleasuregrounds。　It　is　true　that　they　go；　
for　the　most　part；　unthanked　by　name；　although　upon　
this　occasion　William　was　ready　to　give　such　discriminating　
praise　as　the　dead　architects　and　painters　received　
seldom　in　the　course　of　the　year。　They　were　walking　by　
the　river　bank；　and　Katharine　and　Ralph；　lagging　a　little　
behind；　caught　fragments　of　his　lecture。　Katharine　smiled　
at　the　sound　of　his　voice；　she　listened　as　if　she　found　it　

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a　little　unfamiliar；　intimately　though　she　knew　it；　she　
tested　it。　The　note　of　assurance　and　happiness　was　new。　
William　was　very　happy。　She　learnt　every　hour　what　sources　
of　his　happiness　she　had　neglected。　She　had　never　asked　
him　to　teach　her　anything；　she　had　never　consented　to　
read　Macaulay；　she　had　never　expressed　her　belief　that　
his　play　was　second　only　to