第 47 节
作者:白寒      更新:2021-04-30 16:59      字数:9322
  Near   the   close   of   a   fine   spring   afternoon   James   Farnum   and Alice
  Frome      were    walking     at  the   lower   end    of  Powers     Avenue。     In   the
  conventional garb he affected since he had become a man of substance the
  lawyer might have served as a model of fashion to any aspiring youth。 His
  silk   hat;   his   light   trousers;   the   double…   breasted   coat   which   enfolded   his
  manly form; were all of the latest design。 The weather; for a change; was
  behaving itself so as not to soil the chaste glory of Solomon thus displayed。
  There had been rain and would be more; but just now they passed through
  a dripping world shot full of sunlight。
  〃Of course I'm no end flattered at being allowed to go with you。 But
  I'm dying of curiosity to know where we are going。〃
  The   young   woman   gave   James   her   beguiling   smile。   〃We're   going   to
  call   on   a   sick   man。   I'm   taking   you   along   as   chaperon。   You   needn't   be
  flattered at all。 You're merely a convenience; like a hat pin or an umbrella。〃
  〃But I'm not sure this is proper。 Now as your chaperone〃
  〃You're   not   that   kind   of   a   chaperon;   Mr。   Farnum。   You   haven't   any
  privileges。  Nothing but   duties。   Unless   it's   a  privilege   to   be  chosen。 That
  gives you a chance to say something pretty。〃
  They crossed Yarnell Way。 James; looking around upon the wrecks of
  humanity   they   began   to   meet;   was   very   sure   that   he   did   not   enjoy   this
  excursion。 An adventure with Miss Frome outside of the conventions was
  the   very   thing   he   did   not   want。   What   in   the   world   did   the   girl   mean
  anyhow? Her vagaries were beginning to disturb her relatives。 So much he
  had gathered from Valencia。
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  Before he had got as far as a protest Alice turned in to the entrance of a
  building and climbed a flight of stairs。 She pushed a button。 A woman of
  rather slatternly appearance came to the door。
  〃Good afternoon; Mrs。 Maloney。 I've come to see how Mr。 Marchant
  is。〃
  The   landlady   brushed   into   place   some   flying   strands   of   hair。   〃Well;
  now; Miss Frome; he's better to…day。 The nurse is with him。 If you'll jist
  knock at the door 'twill be all right。〃
  While   they   were   in   the   passage   James   interposed   an   objection。   〃My
  dear Miss Frome; I really don't think〃
  She interrupted brightly。 〃I'm glad you don't。 You're not expected   to;
  you   know。   I'm   commanding   this   expedition。   Yours   not   to   answer   why。
  Yours   but   to   do   and   die。〃 And   she   knocked   on   the   door   of   the   room   at
  which they had stopped。
  It was opened by a nurse in uniform。 James observed that she; too; like
  Mrs。 Maloney; brightened at sight of the visitor。
  〃Mr。 Marchant will be pleased to see you; Miss Frome。〃
  He  was。  His   gladness   illuminated the  white  face  through   the  skin   of
  which the cheek bones appeared about to emerge。 A thin blue… veined hand
  shot forward to meet hers。
  〃Oh; comrade; but I'm glad to meet you。〃
  〃I think you know Mr。 Farnum。〃
  The man propped up in bed nodded a little grin at the lawyer。 〃We've
  met。 It was years ago in Jeff's rooms。〃
  〃Oheryes。 Yes; I remember。〃
  Presently   Jeff   and   Sam   Miller   dropped   in   to   see   the   invalid。   From
  chance   remarks   the   lawyer   gathered   that   the   little   cobbler   had   brought
  himself so low by giving his overcoat one bitter night to a poor girl he had
  found shivering in the streets。
  The   frankness   with   which   they   discussed   before Alice   Frome   things
  never referred to in good society shocked James。
  It   appeared   that the   story  of   this little   factory  girl   who had   been led
  astray was still urgent in Marchant's mind。 At the time of their arrival he
  had just finished scribbling some verses hot from his heart。 Jeff read them
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  aloud; in spite of the poet's modest insistence that they were only a first
  draft。
  〃This is a story that two may tell; I am the one; the other's in hell; A
  story   of   passionate   amorous   fire;   With   the   glamor   of   love   to   attune   the
  lyre。
  She   traveled   the   road   at   breakneck   speed;   I   opened   the   gates   and
  saddled the steed; 〃Ride free!〃 I cried as we dashed along。 Her sweet voice
  echoed a mocking song。〃
  〃'Fraid it doesn't always scan。 They seldom do;〃 apologized the author
  of the verses。
  Jeff   rapped   for order。  〃The sense  of   the  meeting is that   the  blushing
  poet will please not interrupt。〃
  〃Nights of the wildest revel and mirth; Days of sorrow; remorse; and
  dearth;   A   heaven   of   love   and   a   hell   of   regret   But   there's   always   the
  woman to pay my debt。
  'Sin;' says the preacher; 'shall be washed free; The blood of the Lamb
  was shed for thee。' Smugly I pass the sacred wine; The woman in hell pays
  toll for mine。
  'I am a pillar of Church and State; She but the broken sport of Fate;
  This is a story that two may tell; I am the one; the other's in hell。'〃
  There was a moment's silence after Jeff had finished。
  〃What are you going to call your verses?〃 the nurse asked。
  〃I'll call them; 'She Pays。' That's the idea of it。〃
  James was distinctly uneasy。 There was positively something indecent
  about this。 He had an aversion to thinking about unpleasant things。 Every
  well…regulated mind ought to have。 He would like to make a protest; but
  he   could   not   very   well   do   that   here。   He   promised   himself   to   let   Alice
  Frome      know    as  soon    as  they   were    alone   what    he  thought    about    her
  escapades into this world below the dead line。
  He moved uncomfortably in his chair; and in doing so his gaze fell full
  into the eyes of Sam Miller。 The fat librarian was staring at him out of a
  very white face。 Before James could break the spell an unvoiced question
  had been asked and answered。
  Marchant was already riding the hobby that was religion to him。 〃Four
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  dollars a   week。 That's   what she   was getting。 And her employer   is   worth
  two millions。 Think of it。 All her youth to be sold for four dollars a week。
  Just   enough   to   keep   body   and   soul   together。 And   when   she   went   to   the
  head of her department to ask for a raise he leered at her and said a good
  looking girl like her could always find someone to take care of her。 Eight
  months   she   stuck   it   out;   getting   more   ragged   every   day。   Then   enter   the
  man;   offering   her   some   comfort   and   pleasure   and   love。   Do   you   blame
  her?〃
  〃You must give me her address;〃 Alice said softly。
  Oscar   nodded。   〃Good   enough;   comrade。   Jeff   has   looked   out   for   her;
  but she needs a woman friend。〃 With a sweep of the hand he went back to
  the   impersonal。   〃Her   trouble   was   economic;   just   as   ours   is。   Look   at   it。
  We've got a perfect self…regulating system that adjusts itself automatically
  to bring   hard times   when   we're   most   prosperous。   Give us big   crops   and
  boom times; and we head straight for a depression。 Why?〃 He interrupted
  himself with a fit of coughing; but presently began again; talking also with
  his swift supple hands。 〃Because then the foreign market will be glutted。
  Surplus goods won't sell abroad。 The manufacturer; unable to dispose of
  his produce; will cut down his force or close his plant。 Labor; out of work;
  cannot buy。 So every branch of industry suffers because we're too well off。
  It's a vicious absurd circle born of the system under which we live。 Under
  socialism  the   remedy   would   be   merely  to   work   less   for   a   time   until   the
  surplus was used。 It would affect nobody injuriously。 The whole thing's as
  simple as A B C。〃
  It   had   been   plain   to   the   first   casual   glance   of   James   that   the   little
  Socialist was far gone。 The amazing thing was the eagerness with which
  his    spirit  dominated      the   body    in  such    ill  case。  He    was    alive   to  the
  fingertips;   though   he   was   already   in   the   Valley   of   the   Shadow。   To   the
  lawyer there was something eerie about it all。 Marchant was done with the
  business of living。 Why didn't he lie down and accept the verdict?
  B