第 25 节
作者:猫王      更新:2021-02-27 00:40      字数:9322
  inexplicable。      I   do   not  know     what   she   thought。    I   felt  that  she   was
  possessed by  some shapeless   dread which   robbed her   of all   self…control。
  As   a   rule   she   was   so   calm;   her   agitation   now   was   amazing。    Stroeve
  looked at her for a while with puzzled consternation。
  〃You are my wife; you are dearer to me than anyone in the world。 No
  one shall come here without your entire consent。〃
  She closed her eyes for a moment; and I thought she was going to faint。
  I   was   a   little   impatient   with   her;   I   had   not   suspected   that   she   was   so
  neurotic   a   woman。      Then   I   heard   Stroeve's   voice   again。    It   seemed   to
  break oddly on the silence。
  〃Haven't you been in bitter distress once when a helping hand was held
  out   to   you?   You   know   how   much   it   means。      Couldn't   you   like   to   do
  someone a good turn when you have the chance?〃
  The words were ordinary enough; and to my mind there was in them
  something   so   hortatory   that   I   almost   smiled。      I   was   astonished   at   the
  effect   they   had   on   Blanche   Stroeve。   She   started   a   little;   and   gave   her
  husband a long look。 His eyes were fixed on the ground。                   I did not know
  why he seemed embarrassed。              A faint colour came into her cheeks; and
  then her face became white  more than white; ghastly; you felt that the
  blood had shrunk away from the whole surface of her body; and even her
  hands were pale。        A shiver passed through her。          The silence of the studio
  seemed to gather body; so that it became an almost palpable presence。                      I
  was bewildered。
  〃Bring Strickland here; Dirk。          I'll do my best for him。〃
  〃My precious;〃 he smiled。
  He wanted to take her in his arms; but she avoided him。
  〃Don't be affectionate before strangers; Dirk;〃 she said。 〃It makes me
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  feel such a fool。〃
  Her manner was quite normal again; and no one could have told that
  so shortly before she had been shaken by such a great emotion。
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  Chapter XXVI
  Next day we moved Strickland。             It needed a good deal of firmness
  and still more patience to induce him to come; but he was really too ill to
  offer     any   effective     resistance    to   Stroeve's     entreaties    and    to   my
  determination。       We     dressed   him;   while    he  feebly    cursed   us;  got   him
  downstairs;   into   a   cab;   and   eventually   to   Stroeve's   studio。   He   was   so
  exhausted   by   the   time   we   arrived   that   he   allowed   us   to   put   him   to   bed
  without a word。 He was ill for six weeks。            At one time it looked as though
  he could not live more than a few hours; and I am convinced that it was
  only through the Dutchman's doggedness that he pulled through。                      I have
  never known a more difficult patient。           It was not that he was exacting and
  querulous; on the contrary; he never complained; he asked for nothing; he
  was perfectly silent; but he seemed to resent the care that was taken of him;
  he received all inquiries about his feelings or his needs with a jibe; a sneer;
  or an oath。     I found him detestable; and as soon as he was out of danger I
  had no hesitation in telling him so。
  〃Go to hell;〃 he answered briefly。
  Dirk    Stroeve;   giving    up   his  work    entirely;  nursed    Strickland    with
  tenderness   and   sympathy。       He   was   dexterous to   make   him  comfortable;
  and   he   exercised   a   cunning   of   which   I   should   never   have   thought   him
  capable   to   induce   him   to   take   the   medicines   prescribed   by   the   doctor。
  Nothing was too much trouble for him。              Though his means were adequate
  to the needs of himself and his wife; he certainly had no money to waste;
  but now he was wantonly extravagant in the purchase of delicacies; out of
  season   and   dear;   which   might   tempt   Strickland's   capricious   appetite。      I
  shall never forget the tactful patience with which he persuaded him to take
  nourishment。   He   was   never   put   out   by   Strickland's   rudeness;   if   it   was
  merely sullen; he appeared not to notice it; if it was aggressive; he only
  chuckled。       When      Strickland;     recovering     somewhat;      was    in  a  good
  humour and amused himself by laughing at him; he deliberately did absurd
  things to excite his ridicule。 Then he would give me little happy glances;
  so that I might notice in how much better form the patient was。 Stroeve
  was sublime。
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  But it was Blanche who most surprised me。                 She proved herself not
  only a capable; but a devoted nurse。            There was nothing in her to remind
  you   that   she   had   so   vehemently  struggled   against   her   husband's   wish   to
  bring   Strickland   to   the   studio。   She   insisted   on   doing   her   share   of   the
  offices needful to the sick。 She arranged his bed so that it was possible to
  change   the   sheet   without   disturbing   him。      She   washed   him。       When   I
  remarked on her competence; she told me with that pleasant little smile of
  hers that for a while she had worked in a hospital。 She gave no sign that
  she hated Strickland so desperately。 She did not speak to him much; but
  she was quick to forestall his wants。           For a fortnight it was necessary that
  someone should   stay  with him  all   night;  and  she   took turns   at   watching
  with her husband。        I wondered what she thought during the long darkness
  as she sat by the bedside。         Strickland was a weird figure as he lay there;
  thinner than ever; with his ragged red beard and his eyes staring feverishly
  into vacancy; his illness seemed to have made them larger; and they had an
  unnatural brightness。
  〃Does he ever talk to you in the night?〃 I asked her once。
  〃Never。〃
  〃Do you dislike him as much as you did?〃
  〃More; if anything。〃
  She   looked   at   me   with   her   calm  gray   eyes。  Her   expression   was   so
  placid; it was hard to believe that she was capable of the violent emotion I
  had witnessed。
  〃Has he ever thanked you for what you do for him?〃
  〃No;〃 she smiled。
  〃He's inhuman。〃
  〃He's abominable。〃
  Stroeve was; of course; delighted with her。              He could not do enough
  to show his gratitude for the whole…hearted devotion with which she had
  accepted   the   burden   he   laid   on   her。   But   he   was   a   little   puzzled   by   the
  behaviour of Blanche and Strickland towards one another。
  〃Do   you   know;   I've   seen   them   sit   there   for   hours   together   without
  saying a word?〃
  On one occasion; when Strickland was so much better that in a day or
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  two he was to get up; I sat with them in the studio。 Dirk and I were talking。
  Mrs。 Stroeve sewed; and I thought I recognised the shirt she was mending
  as Strickland's。      He lay on his back; he did not speak。             Once I saw that
  his eyes were fixed on Blanche Stroeve; and there was in them a curious
  irony。 Feeling their gaze; she raised her own; and for a moment they stared
  at one another。       I could not quite understand her expression。               Her  eyes
  had in them a strange perplexity; and perhaps  but why?  alarm。                    In a
  moment   Strickland   looked   away   and   idly   surveyed   the   ceiling;   but   she
  continued to stare at him; and now her look was quite inexplicable。
  In a few days Strickland began to get up。               He was nothing but skin
  and bone。      His clothes hung upon him like rags on a scarecrow。                    With
  his untidy beard and long hair; his features; always a little larger than life;
  now emphasised by illness; he had an extraordinary aspect; but it was so
  odd that it was not quite ugly。          There was something monumental in his
  ungainliness。      I do not know how to express precisely the impression he
  made upon me。         It was not exactly spirituality that was obvious; though
  the screen of the flesh seemed almost transparent; because there was in his
  face an outrageous sensuality; but; though it sounds nonsense; it s