月亮与六便士【中英字幕】

We sat in thestudio, and he waved his hand to an unfinished picture on an easel. I gave alittle start. He was painting a group of Italian peasants, in the costume ofthe Campagna, lounging on the steps of a Roman church.

"Is thatwhat you're doing now?" I asked.

"Yes. Ican get my models here just as well as in Rome. "

"Don'tyou think it's very beautiful?" said Mrs. Stroeve.

"Thisfoolish wife of mine thinks I'm a great artist, " said he.

Hisapologetic laugh did not disguise the pleasure that he felt. His eyes lingeredon his picture. It was strange that his critical sense, so accurate andunconventional when he dealt with the work of others, should be satisfied inhimself with what was hackneyed and vulgar beyond belief.

"Showhim some more of your pictures, " she said.

"ShallI?"

Though he hadsuffered so much from the ridicule of his friends, Dirk Stroeve, eager forpraise and naively self-satisfied, could never resist displaying his work. Hebrought out a picture of two curly-headed Italian urchins playing marbles.

"Aren'tthey sweet?" said Mrs. Stroeve.

我们当时坐在他的画室里；他朝着画架上一幅没有完成的作品挥了挥手。我吃了一惊。他画的是一群意大利农民，身穿罗马近郊服装，正在一个罗马大教堂的台阶上闲荡。

“这就是你现在画的画吗？”

“是啊。我在这里也能象在罗马一样找到模特儿。”

“你不认为他画得很美吗？”施特略夫太太问道。

“我这个傻妻子总认为我是个大画家，”他说。

他的表示歉意的笑声掩盖不住内心的喜悦。他的目光仍然滞留在自己的画上。在评论别人的绘画时他的眼光是那样准确，不落俗套，但是对他自己的那些平凡陈腐、俗不可耐的画却那样自鸣得意，真是一桩怪事。

“让他看看你别的画。”她说。

“人家要看吗？”

虽然戴尔克·施特略夫不断受到朋友们的嘲笑，却从来克制不了自己，总是要把自己的画拿给人家看，满心希望听到别人的夸奖，而且他的虚荣心很容易得到满足。他先给我看了一张两个鬈头发的意大利穷孩子玩玻璃球的画。

“多好玩儿的两个孩子，”施特略夫太太称赞说。

She flushed alittle, embarrassed by the passion in his tone. His letters had told me that hewas very much in love with his wife, and I saw that he could hardly take hiseyes off her. I could not tell if she loved him. Poor pantaloon, he was not anobject to excite love, but the smile in her eyes was affectionate, and it waspossible that her reserve concealed a very deep feeling. She was not theravishing creature that his love-sick fancy saw, but she had a gravecomeliness. She was rather tall, and her gray dress, simple and quite well-cut,did not hide the fact that her figure was beautiful. It was a figure that mighthave appealed more to the sculptor than to the costumier. Her hair, brown andabundant, was plainly done, her face was very pale, and her features were goodwithout being distinguished. She had quiet gray eyes. She just missed beingbeautiful, and in missing it was not even pretty. But when Stroeve spoke ofChardin it was not without reason, and she reminded me curiously of thatpleasant housewife in her mob-cap and apron whom the great painter hasimmortalised. I could imagine her sedately busy among her pots and pans, makinga ritual of her household duties, so that they acquired a moral significance; Idid not suppose that she was clever or could ever be amusing, but there wassomething in her grave intentness which excited my interest. Her reserve wasnot without mystery. I wondered why she had married Dirk Stroeve. Though shewas English, I could not exactly place her, and it was not obvious from whatrank in society she sprang, what had been her upbringing, or how she had livedbefore her marriage. She was very silent, but when she spoke it was with apleasant voice, and her manners were natural.

I askedStroeve if he was working.

"Working?I'm painting better than I've ever painted before. "

她的脸泛上一层红晕，他语调中流露出的热情让她感到有些不好意思。施特略夫在给我的信里谈到过他非常爱他的妻子，现在我看到，他的眼睛几乎一刻也舍不得从她身上离开。我说不上她是不是爱他。这个可怜的傻瓜，他不是一个能引起女人爱情的人物。但施特略夫太太眼睛里的笑容是含着爱怜的，在她的缄默后面也可能隐藏着深挚的感情。她并不是他那相思倾慕的幻觉中的令人神驰目眩的美女，但是却另有一种端庄秀丽的风姿。她的个子比较高，一身剪裁得体的朴素衣衫掩盖不住她美丽的身段。她的这种体型可能对雕塑家比对服装商更有吸引力。她的一头棕色的浓发式样很简单，面色白净，五官秀丽，但并不美艳。她只差一点儿就称得起是个美人，但是正因为差这一点儿，却连漂亮也算不上了。施特略夫谈到夏尔丹的画并不是随口一说的，她的样子令人奇怪地想到这位大画家的不朽之笔——那个戴着头巾式女帽、系着围裙的可爱的主妇。闭上眼睛我可以想象她在锅碗中间安详地忙碌着，象奉行仪式般地操持着一些家务事，赋予这些日常琐事一种崇高意义。我并不认为她脑筋如何聪明或者有什么风趣，但她那种严肃、专注的神情却很使人感到兴趣。她的稳重沉默里似乎蕴藏着某种神秘。我不知道为什么她要嫁给戴尔克·施特略夫。虽然她和我是同乡，我却猜不透她是怎样一个人。我看不出她出身于什么社会阶层，受过什么教育，也说不出她结婚前干的是什么职业。她说话不多，但是她的声音很悦耳，举止也非常自然。

我问施特略夫他最近画没画过什么东西。

“画画？我现在比过去任何时候画得都好了。”

When I toldhim that I meant to live in Paris for a while, and had taken an apartment, hereproached me bitterly for not having let him know. He would have found me anapartment himself, and lent me furniture -- did I really mean that I had goneto the expense of buying it? -- and he would have helped me to move in. Hereally looked upon it as unfriendly that I had not given him the opportunity ofmaking himself useful to me. Meanwhile, Mrs. Stroeve sat quietly mending herstockings, without talking, and she listened to all he said with a quiet smileon her lips.

"So, yousee, I'm married, " he said suddenly; "what do you think of mywife?"

He beamed ather, and settled his spectacles on the bridge of his nose. The sweat made themconstantly slip down.

"What onearth do you expect me to say to that?" I laughed.

"Really,Dirk, " put in Mrs. Stroeve, smiling.

"Butisn't she wonderful? I tell you, my boy, lose no time; get married as soon asever you can. I'm the happiest man alive. Look at her sitting there. Doesn'tshe make a picture? Chardin, eh? I've seen all the most beautiful women in theworld; I've never seen anyone more beautiful than Madame Dirk Stroeve. "

"If youdon't be quiet, Dirk, I shall go away. "

"Monpetit chou", he said.

当我告诉他我准备在巴黎住一段日子，而且寓所已经租好的时候，他使劲儿责备我没有事前同他商量。他会替我找到一处合适的住处，会借给我家具——难道我真的花了一笔冤枉钱去买吗？——，而且他还可以帮我搬家。我没有给他这个替我服务的机会在他看来是太不够朋友了，他说的是真心话。在他同我谈话的当儿，施特略夫太太一直安安静静地坐在那里补袜子。她自己什么也没说，只是听着她丈夫在谈话，嘴角上挂着一抹安详的笑容。

“你看到了，我已经结婚了，”他突然说，“你看我的妻子怎么样？”

他笑容满面地看着她，把眼镜在鼻梁上架好。汗水不断地使他的眼镜滑落下来。

“你叫我怎么回答这个问题呢？”我笑了起来。

“可不是嘛，戴尔克，”施特略夫太太插了一句说，也微笑起来。

“可是你不觉得她太好了吗？我告诉你，老朋友，不要耽搁时间了，赶快结婚吧。我现在是世界上最幸福的人。你看看她坐在那儿，不是一幅绝妙的图画吗？象不象夏尔丹①的画，啊？世界上最漂亮的女人我都见过了，可是我还没有看见过有比戴尔克·施特略夫夫人更美的呢。”

①让·西麦翁·夏尔丹（1699—1779），法国画家。

“要是你再不住口，戴尔克，我就出去了。”

“我的小宝贝①。”他说。

原文为法语。

I had notannounced my arrival to Stroeve, and when I rang the bell of his studio, onopening the door himself, for a moment he did not know me. Then he gave a cryof delighted surprise and drew me in. It was charming to be welcomed with somuch eagerness. His wife was seated near the stove at her sewing, and she roseas I came in. He introduced me.

"Don'tyou remember?" he said to her. "I've talked to you about him often." And then to me: "But why didn't you let me know you were coming?How long have you been here? How long are you going to stay? Why didn't youcome an hour earlier, and we would have dined together?"

He bombardedme with questions. He sat me down in a chair, patting me as though I were acushion, pressed cigars upon me, cakes, wine. He could not let me alone. He washeart-broken because he had no whisky, wanted to make coffee for me, racked hisbrain for something he could possibly do for me, and beamed and laughed, and inthe exuberance of his delight sweated at every pore.

"Youhaven't changed, " I said, smiling, as I looked at him.

He had thesame absurd appearance that I remembered. He was a fat little man, with shortlegs, young still -- he could not have been more than thirty -- but prematurelybald. His face was perfectly round, and he had a very high colour, a whiteskin, red cheeks, and red lips. His eyes were blue and round too, he wore largegold-rimmed spectacles, and his eyebrows were so fair that you could not seethem. He reminded you of those jolly, fat merchants that Rubens painted.

事先我没有告诉施特略夫我要到巴黎来。我按了门铃，开门的是施特略夫本人，一下子他没有认出我是谁来。但是马上他就又惊又喜地喊叫起来，赶忙把我拉进屋子里去。受到这样热情的欢迎真是一件叫人高兴的事。他的妻子正坐在炉边做针线活，看见我进来她站起身来。施特略夫把我介绍给她。

“你还记得吗？”他对她说，“我常常同你谈到他。”接着他又对我说：“可是你到巴黎来干嘛不告诉我一声啊？你到巴黎多少天了？你准备待多久？为什么你不早来一个小时，咱们一起吃晚饭？”

他劈头盖脸地问了我一大堆问题。他让我坐在一把椅子上，把我当靠垫似地拍打着，又是叫我吸雪茄，又是让我吃蛋糕，喝酒。他一分钟也不叫我停闲。因为家里没有威士忌，他简直伤心极了。他要给我煮咖啡，绞尽脑汁地想还能招待我些什么。他乐得脸上开了花，每一个汗毛孔都往外冒汗珠。

“你还是老样子，”我一面打量着他，一面笑着说。

他的样子同我记忆中的一样，还是那么惹人发笑。他的身材又矮又胖，一双小短腿。他年纪还很轻——最多也不过三十岁——，可是却已经秃顶了。他生着一张滚圆的脸，面色红润，皮肤很白，两颊同嘴唇却总是红通通的。他的一双蓝眼睛也生得滚圆，戴着一副金边大眼镜，眉毛很淡，几乎看不出来。看到他，你不由会想到鲁宾斯画的那些一团和气的胖商人。

But though sobad a painter, he had a very delicate feeling for art, and to go with him topicture-galleries was a rare treat. His enthusiasm was sincere and hiscriticism acute. He was catholic. He had not only a true appreciation of theold masters, but sympathy with the moderns. He was quick to discover talent,and his praise was generous. I think I have never known a man whose judgmentwas surer. And he was better educated than most painters. He was not, like mostof them, ignorant of kindred arts, and his taste for music and literature gavedepth and variety to his comprehension of painting. To a young man like myselfhis advice and guidance were of incomparable value.

When I leftRome I corresponded with him, and about once in two months received from himlong letters in queer English, which brought before me vividly his spluttering,enthusiastic, gesticulating conversation. Some time before I went to Paris hehad married an Englishwoman, and was now settled in a studio in Montmartre. Ihad not seen him for four years, and had never met his wife.

但是施特略夫虽然是一个不高明的画家，对艺术却有敏锐的鉴赏力，同他一起参观画廊是一种很难得的享受。他的热情是真实的，评论是深刻的。施特略夫是个天主教徒，他不仅对古典派的绘画大师由衷赞赏，对于现代派画家也颇表同情。他善于发掘有才能的新人，从不吝惜自己的赞誉。我认为在我见到的人中，再没有谁比他的判断更为中肯的了。他比大多数画家都更有修养，也不象他们那样对其他艺术那样无知。他对音乐和文学的鉴赏力使他对绘画的理解既深刻又不拘于一格。对于象我这样的年轻人，他的诱导是极其可贵的。

我离开罗马后同他继续有书信往来，每两个月左右我就接到他用怪里怪气的英语写的一封长信。他谈话时那种又急切又热情、双手挥舞的神情总是跃然纸上。在我去巴黎前不久，他同一个英国女人结了婚，在蒙特玛特尔区一间画室里安了家。我已经有四年没有同他见面了，她的妻子我还从来没见过。

It wasbecause I felt this that Dirk Stroeve was not to me, as to others, merely anobject of ridicule. His fellow-painters made no secret of their contempt forhis work, but he earned a fair amount of money, and they did not hesitate tomake free use of his purse. He was generous, and the needy, laughing at himbecause he believed so naively their stories of distress, borrowed from himwith effrontery. He was very emotional, yet his feeling, so easily aroused, hadin it something absurd, so that you accepted his kindness, but felt nogratitude. To take money from him was like robbing a child, and you despisedhim because he was so foolish. I imagine that a pickpocket, proud of his lightfingers, must feel a sort of indignation with the careless woman who leaves ina cab a vanity-bag with all her jewels in it. Nature had made him a butt, buthad denied him insensibility. He writhed under the jokes, practical andotherwise, which were perpetually made at his expense, and yet never ceased, itseemed wilfully, to expose himself to them. He was constantly wounded, and yethis good- nature was such that he could not bear malice: the viper might stinghim, but he never learned by experience, he had no sooner recovered from hispain than he tenderly placed it once more in his bosom. His life was a tragedywritten in the terms of knockabout farce. Because I did not laugh at him he wasgrateful to me, and he used to pour into my sympathetic ear the long list ofhis troubles. The saddest thing about them was that they were grotesque, andthe more pathetic they were, the more you wanted to laugh.

正因为我有这种感觉，所以戴尔克·施特略夫在我的眼睛里不象在别人眼睛里那样，只是一个受人嘲弄挖苦的对象。他的一些同行毫不掩饰他们对他作品的鄙视，但是施特略夫却很能赚钱，而这些人把他的钱包就看作是自己的一样，动用时是从来没有什么顾虑的。他很大方；那些手头拮据的人一方面嘲笑他那么天真地轻信他们编造的不幸故事，一方面厚颜无耻地伸手向他借钱。他非常重感情，但是在他那很容易就被打动的感情里面却含有某种愚蠢的东西，让你接受了他好心肠的帮助却丝毫没有感激之情。向他借钱就好象从小孩儿手里抢东西一样；因为他太好欺侮，你反而有点儿看不起他。我猜想，一个以手快自豪的扒手对一个把装满贵重首饰的皮包丢在车上的粗心大意的女人一定会感到有些恼火的。讲到施特略夫，一方面造物主把他制造成一个笑料，另一方面又拒绝给他迟钝的感觉。人们不停地拿他开玩笑，不论是善意的嘲讽或是恶作剧的挖苦都叫他痛苦不堪，但是他又从来不停止给人制造嘲弄的机会，倒好像他有意这样做似的。他不断地受人伤害，可是他的性格又是那么善良，从来不肯怀恨人；即便挨了毒蛇咬，也不懂得吸取经验教训，只要疼痛一过，又会心存怜悯地把蛇揣在怀里。他的生活好象是按照那种充满打闹的滑稽剧的格式写的一出悲剧。因为我没有嘲笑过他，所以他很感激我；他常常把自己的一连串烦恼倾注到我富于同情的耳朵里。最悲惨之点在于他受的这些委屈总是滑稽可笑的，这些事他讲得越悲惨，你就越忍不住要笑出来。

"I don'tpretend to be a great painter, " he said, "I'm not a Michael Angelo,no, but I have something. I sell. I bring romance into the homes of all sortsof people. Do you know, they buy my pictures not only in Holland, but in Norwayand Sweden and Denmark? It's mostly merchants who buy them, and rich tradesmen.You can't imagine what the winters are like in those countries, so long anddark and cold. They like to think that Italy is like my pictures. That's whatthey expect. That's what I expected Italy to be before I came here. "

And I thinkthat was the vision that had remained with him always, dazzling his eyes sothat he could not see the truth; and notwithstanding the brutality of fact, hecontinued to see with the eyes of the spirit an Italy of romantic brigands andpicturesque ruins. It was an ideal that he painted -- a poor one, common andshop-soiled, but still it was an ideal; and it gave his character a peculiarcharm.

“我知道自己不是个伟大的画家，”他对我说，“我不是米开朗基罗，不是的，但是我有自己的东西。我的画有人要买。我把浪漫情调带进各种人的家庭里。你知道，不只在荷兰，就是在挪威、瑞典和丹麦也有人买我的画。买画的主要是商人，有钱的生意人。那些国家里冬天是什么样子你恐怕想象不到，阴沉、寒冷、长得没有尽头。他们喜欢看到我画中的意大利景象。那是他们所希望看到的意大利，也是我没来这里以前想象中的意大利。”

我觉得这是他永远也抛弃不掉的幻景，这种幻景闪得他眼花缭乱，叫他看不到真实情景。他不顾眼前严酷的事实，总用自己幻想的目光凝视着一个到处是浪漫主义的侠盗、美丽如画的废墟的意大利。他画的是他理想中的境界——尽管他的理想很幼稚、很庸俗、很陈旧，但终究是个理想；这就赋予了他的性格一种迷人的色彩。

In point offact, I met Strickland before I had been a fortnight in Paris.

I quicklyfound myself a tiny apartment on the fifth floor of a house in the Rue desDames, and for a couple of hundred francs bought at a second-hand dealer'senough furniture to make it habitable. I arranged with the concierge to make mycoffee in the morning and to keep the place clean. Then I went to see my friendDirk Stroeve.

Dirk Stroevewas one of those persons whom, according to your character, you cannot think ofwithout derisive laughter or an embarrassed shrug of the shoulders. Nature hadmade him a buffoon. He was a painter, but a very bad one, whom I had met inRome, and I still remembered his pictures. He had a genuine enthusiasm for thecommonplace. His soul palpitating with love of art, he painted the models whohung about the stairway of Bernini in the Piazza de Spagna, undaunted by theirobvious picturesqueness; and his studio was full of canvases on which wereportrayed moustachioed, large-eyed peasants in peaked hats, urchins in becomingrags, and women in bright petticoats. Sometimes they lounged at the steps of achurch, and sometimes dallied among cypresses against a cloudless sky;sometimes they made love by a Renaissance well-head, and sometimes theywandered through the Campagna by the side of an ox-waggon. They were carefullydrawn and carefully painted. A photograph could not have been more exact. Oneof the painters at the Villa Medici had called him Le Maitre de la Boite aChocoloats. To look at his pictures you would have thought that Monet, Manet,and the rest of the Impressionists had never been.

实际上，我在巴黎住了还不到两个星期就看到思特里克兰德了。

我没有费什么工夫就在达姆路一所房子的五层楼上租到一小间公寓。我花了两三百法郎在一家旧货店购置了几件家具，把屋子布置起来，又同看门的人商量好，叫她每天早晨给我煮咖啡，替我收拾房间。这以后我就去看我的朋友戴尔克·施特略夫。

戴尔克·施特略夫是这样一个人：根据人们不同的性格，有人在想到他的时候鄙夷地一笑，有的则困惑地耸一下肩膀。造物主把他制造成一个滑稽角色。他是一个画家，但他是一个很蹩脚的画家。我是在罗马和他认识的，我始终记得他那时画的画儿。他衷心拜倒在平凡庸俗的脚下。他的灵魂由于对艺术的热爱而悸动着，他描摹悬在斯巴尼亚广场贝尼尼①式楼梯上的一些画幅，一点儿也不觉得这些绘画美得有些失真。他自己画室里的作品张张画的是蓄着小胡须、生着大眼睛、头戴尖顶帽的农民，衣衫破烂但又整齐得体的街头顽童，和穿着花花绿绿的裙子的女人。这些画中人物有时候在教堂门口台阶上闲立，有时候在一片晴朗无云的碧空下的柏树丛中戏逐，有时候在有文艺复兴时期建筑风格的喷泉边调情，也有时候跟在牛车旁边走过意大利田野。这些人物画得非常细致，色彩过于真切。就是摄影师也不能拍出更加逼真的照片来。住在梅迪其别墅的一位画家管施特略夫叫做巧克力糖盒子的大画师②。看了他的画，你会认为莫奈③、马奈④和所有印象派画家从来不曾出现过。

①乔凡尼·罗伦索·贝尼尼（1598—1680），意大利巴洛克派雕塑家、建筑家和画家。

②原文为法语。

③克劳德·莫奈（1840—1926），法国画家。

④埃多瓦·马奈（1832—1883），法国画家。

I suppose I saida very stupid thing.

"Is shegoing into your business?" I asked.

"Oh no; Iwouldn't let her do that, " Mrs. Strickland answered. "She's so pretty.I'm sure she'll marry well. "

"I shouldhave thought it would be a help to you. "

"Severalpeople have suggested that she should go on the stage, but of course I couldn'tconsent to that, I know all the chief dramatists, and I could get her a partto-morrow, but I shouldn't like her to mix with all sorts of people. "

I was a littlechilled by Mrs. Strickland's exclusiveness.

"Do youever hear of your husband?"

"No; Ihaven't heard a word. He may be dead for all I know. "

"I may runacross him in Paris. Would you like me to let you know about him?"

She hesitated aminute.

"If he'sin any real want I'm prepared to help him a little. I'd send you a certain sumof money, and you could give it him gradually, as he needed it. "

"That'svery good of you, " I said.

But I knew itwas not kindness that prompted the offer. It is not true that sufferingennobles the character; happiness does that sometimes, but suffering, for themost part, makes men petty and vindictive.

我觉得我在和她聊天的时候问了一句蠢话。

“她要不要到你开的这个打字所里做点儿事？”

“啊，不，我不让她做这个，”思特里克兰德太太回答，“她长得很漂亮，我认为她一定能结一门好亲事。”

“那对你将会有很大的帮助，我早该想到的。”

“有人建议叫她上舞台，但是我当然不会同意。所有有名的戏剧家我都认识，只要我肯张嘴，马上就能给她在戏里派个角色，但是我不愿意她同杂七杂八的人混在一起。”

思特里克兰德太太这种孤芳自赏的态度叫我心里有点儿发凉。

“你听到过你丈夫的什么消息吗？”

“没有，什么也没有听到过。说不定他已经死了。”

“我在巴黎可能遇见他。如果我知道他什么消息，你要不要我告诉你。”

她犹豫了一会儿。

“如果他的生活真的贫困不堪，我还是准备帮助帮助他。我会给你寄一笔钱去，在他需要的时候，你可以一点一点地给他。”

但是我知道她答应做这件事并不是出于仁慈的心肠。有人说灾难不幸可以使人性高贵，这句话并不对；叫人做出高尚行动的有时候反而是幸福得意，灾难不幸在大多数情况下只能使人们变得心胸狭小、报复心更强。

It was aboutfive years after this that I decided to live in Paris for a while. I wasgrowing stale in London. I was tired of doing much the same thing every day. Myfriends pursued their course with uneventfulness; they had no longer anysurprises for me, and when I met them I knew pretty well what they would say;even their love-affairs had a tedious banality. We were like tram-cars runningon their lines from terminus to terminus, and it was possible to calculatewithin small limits the number of passengers they would carry. Life was orderedtoo pleasantly. I was seized with panic. I gave up my small apartment, sold myfew belongings, and resolved to start afresh.

I called onMrs. Strickland before I left. I had not seen her for some time, and I noticedchanges in her; it was not only that she was older, thinner, and more lined; Ithink her character had altered. She had made a success of her business, andnow had an office in Chancery Lane; she did little typing herself, but spenther time correcting the work of the four girls she employed. She had had theidea of giving it a certain daintiness, and she made much use of blue and redinks; she bound the copy in coarse paper, that looked vaguely like wateredsilk, in various pale colours; and she had acquired a reputation for neatnessand accuracy. She was making money. But she could not get over the idea that toearn her living was somewhat undignified, and she was inclined to remind youthat she was a lady by birth. She could not help bringing into her conversationthe names of people she knew which would satisfy you that she had not sunk inthe social scale. She was a little ashamed of her courage and businesscapacity, but delighted that she was going to dine the next night with a K. C.who lived in South Kensington. She was pleased to be able to tell you that herson was at Cambridge, and it was with a little laugh that she spoke of the rushof dances to which her daughter, just out, was invited.

这件事过去大约五年之后，我决定到巴黎去住一个时期。伦敦我实在待腻了；天天做的事几乎一模一样，使我感到厌烦得要命。我的朋友们过着老一套的生活，平淡无奇，再也引不起我的好奇心了。有时候我们见了面，不待他们开口，我就知道他们要说什么话。就连他们的桃色事件也都是枯燥乏味的老一套。我们这些人就象从终点站到终点站往返行驶的有轨电车，连乘客的数目也能估计个八九不离十。生活被安排得太有秩序了。我觉得简直太可怕了。我退掉了我的小住房，卖掉为数不多的几件家具，决定开始另外一种生活。

临行以前我到思特里克兰德太太家去辞行。我有不少日子没同她见面了，我发现她有不少的变化，不仅人变得老了、瘦了，皱纹比以前多了，就连性格我觉得都有些改变。她的事业很兴旺，这时在昌塞里街开了一个事务所。她自己打字不多，时间主要用在校改她雇用的四名女打字员的打字稿上。她想尽办法把稿件打得非常讲究，很多地方使用蓝色和红色的字带，打好的稿件用各种浅颜色的粗纸装订起来，乍一看仿佛是带波纹的绸子。她给人打的稿件以整齐精确闻名，生意很能赚钱。但是尽管如此，她却认为自己谋生糊口有失身份，总有些抬不起头来。同别人谈话的时候，她忘不了向对方表白自己的高贵出身，动不动就提到她认识的一些人物，叫你知道她的社会地位一点儿没有降低。对自已经营打字行业的胆略和见识她不好意思多谈，但是一说起第二天晚上要在一位家住南肯星顿的皇家法律顾问那里吃晚饭，却总是眉飞色舞。她很愿意告诉你她儿子在剑桥大学读书的事；讲起她女儿刚刚步入社交界，一参加舞会就应接不暇时，她总是得意地笑了起来。