Chapter 30 Chapter 26 I Fall In Love

I did not see Uriah Heep again until Agnes left London.I went to the box office to say good-bye to her and see her off, and he was there, going back to Canterbury in the same car.It gave me some satisfaction to see him put the dark purple short coat with high padded shoulders he was going to wear on the high seat behind the roof, together with an umbrella like a small canopy; Agnes was of course already in the compartment. inside.However, I tried to maintain friendly relations with Ulaith before Agnes's eyes, and I don't think this effort should be in vain.In front of the car window, Uriah did not have a moment of leisure just like at the dining table, hovering around us like a vulture, taking every word of my conversation with Agnes into his ears completely, and never let go of it. Pass.

Some of the things he said that night by the fire put me in a state of distress.In that distress I thought over and over of Agnes's conversation about the partnership. "I do what I hope is the right thing. Now that I think that I have to make such a sacrifice for my father, I have no choice but to persuade her to do so." For her father, she will not hesitate to make any sacrifice, then she will make many concessions because of her love for her father , and use this love as the reason for these concessions.These ominous and sad forebodings have been weighing on my mind.I know how much she loves him.I know how sincere she is.From what she said, I knew that she saw herself as the cause of her father's misunderstanding that she hadn't intended to do, and that she owed him a great deal that she wanted to repay with great urgency and sincerity.It gave me no consolation to see how far apart she was from this hateful Rufus in the purple coat, because I felt their difference was the greatest danger, because her soul was so pure and self-forgetful. , but his soul is so dirty and selfish.No doubt he was well aware of this, and with his cunning he had thought it over.

-------- ①It means "red-haired ghost", nicknamed by King William II of England, because of his ugly appearance and cruel temperament. But I knew very well that the consequences of this sacrifice must have ruined Agnes' happiness; and I knew exactly from her behavior that she was not aware of it at the time, and that its shadow had not yet fallen on her. , if I had warned her of what was about to happen, I would have hurt her at once; so I parted with her without saying a word.She smiled and waved goodbye from the car window, while the demon who had entangled her writhed on the roof of the car, as if he had captured her in his palm and won it all.

For a long time, I couldn't forget the situation when I parted from them.Agnes wrote to me that she had arrived home safely, but I felt as sad as seeing her go.Whenever I am lost in thought, I must consider this question, and all my uneasiness is twice as much as before.I dream about it almost every night.This thing has become a part of my life, as inseparable from my life as my head. I had plenty of leisure to chew on my uneasiness, for Steerforth was at Oxford, according to his letter.I was very lonely when I was not in the doctoral school.I believe that at that time I had developed a latent mistrust of Steerforth.In spite of the enthusiasm with which I wrote back, I feel that on the whole I wish he had not come to London then.In fact, Agnes's influence on me clearly outweighed my desire to see him, and I think I'm afraid so.And since Agnes occupied so much of my thoughts and interests, her influence on me was all the greater.

In the interim, the days slipped by from day to day, from week to week.I became a trainee at Spinlow & Jorkins.I get ninety pounds a year (rent and allowances not included) from my aunt.My apartment was booked for a twelve month lease, and although I still found the place scary at night and the nights were too long, I settled down in a state of depression and balance, and sipped my coffee there.Looking back, I literally drank gallons of coffee during those days.It was during those days that I made three major discoveries: First, Mrs. Crupp suffered from a strange disease called "Golden Blue Disease" ①, which usually occurs when her nose is inflamed, so she had to use peppermint continuously Second, the temperature in my pantry was so abnormal that the brandy bottle blew up quite a bit; third, I was so lonely in the world that I used to record it in fragments of epic poems.

-------- ① It is a misreading of spasticity. On the day I agreed to be a trainee, I didn’t hold any celebrations other than entertaining the clerks in the office with sandwich bread and wine, and I went to the theater alone in the evening.I was so stimulated by watching the doctorate-style "Stranger Things" that when I got home I could barely recognize myself in the mirror.When the appointment was made, Mr. Spenlow said that, as his daughter was coming back from Paris, and the arrangements at home were in some confusion, he would have been glad to have me at his house in Norwood, to celebrate our new relationship.However, he said he would like to have the opportunity to entertain me when his daughter comes home.I thanked him and learned that he was a widower with a daughter.

Mr. Spenlow kept his promises.Within a week or two he mentioned the arrangement, and said that he would be very happy if I would do me the honor of going to his house on Saturday and staying till Monday morning.Of course I said I would like to; he decided to take me in his four-wheeled carriage. When that day came, even my thick felt bag would be the envy of the hired clerks.They considered Norwood House to be a mystical sanctuary.One of them told me that he had heard it said that Mr. Spenlow's table was full of silver and fine china.Another said that the champagne was bottled in casks like most people's house ale.The old clerk with a wig named Tiffy said that he had worked here for many years and had been there several times, and every time he went deep into the breakfast room.He described it as the most luxurious place, and said that he once drank brown wine from the East India there, which was too expensive to open his eyes.

There was an adjournment case in our Inquisition that day--the excommunication of a baker who opposed the road-building in the parish council--and the testimony was twice as long, as far as I can see, so it ended late up.However, we sentenced him to six weeks' teaching and fined him huge legal costs.Then the baker's attorney, the judge, and the solicitors of both parties (who were on good terms with each other) went out of town together, and Mr. Spenlow and I were driven away by the carriage. The carriage was exquisite; the horses arched their necks and lifted their legs, as if they too knew they belonged to the Doctor's House.At the Doctor's College, people compete for ostentation, so some very fine carriages are built.However, I have always believed, and always will believe, that starched clothing was the fashion in my day.I believe that the Prosecutor wears a stiff suit, and that his forbearance is as far as human nature can go.

We had a great time along the way.Mr. Spenlow gave me some instructions for my occupation.He said that this is the most elite profession in the world, and it should never be confused with the practice of law, because it is completely different, this profession is more specialized, less mechanical, and has more benefits.He said that we have a lot more ease in the doctoral school than anywhere else, so that we become a privileged class.He said there was no way to hide the unpleasant fact that we are primarily employed by lawyers, but he taught me that lawyers are the inferior race of human beings who are everywhere looked down upon by attorneys.

I asked Mr. Spenlow what he considered the best business.He replied that it was a disputed will, and that it was all the better if it involved small estates worth thirty or forty thousand pounds.He said that in that kind of case, not only would there be good opportunities to challenge at every stage of the debate, and there would be endless evidence on questioning and counter-examination (not to mention appeals to the Representative Court and the House successively), but also because the costs of the proceedings In the end, it must be paid by all parties; and the two parties only care about the short and long, so naturally they don't care about the cost.Later, he gave a comprehensive tribute to the doctoral school.What is most commendable about the Doctoral School (according to him) is its thoroughness.This is the most well organized place in the world.This is a perfect representation of carefulness.It can be summed up in one sentence.Let's say you bring a divorce case or claim to the religious court.Very well, you have it heard in the Inquisition.You play small cards quietly in a family group, taking your time to finish the cards.What if you are dissatisfied with the Inquisition?Of course, you go to the arch court.What is an arch court?In the same room in the same courtroom, in the same dock, with the same lawyers, but with a different judge, since the judge of the Inquisition can appear as advocate on any court day.Come on, you are playing small cards again.If you're still not satisfied, that's fine.So what do you do?Of course, you go and meet the representatives.Who are the representatives?Hey, church representatives are just apologists with no job.When the above-mentioned two courts played small cards, they all watched the game, watched the whole process of shuffling, splitting, and fighting cards, and talked with the players one by one, but now they appeared as judges to explain this The case is a happy ending!Mr. Spenlow solemnly concludes that those who are dissatisfied will say that the Doctor's College is corrupt, closed, and necessary to improve it; but when the price of wheat per dendrobium is at its highest, the Doctor's College is also at its busiest.A person can put his hand on his heart and say to the whole world - "Touch the doctoral school, and the country will end!"

-------- ① Although the Imported Grain Tax Act was abolished in 1846, the wheat problem was still one of the focal points when Dietrich wrote this book (it was completed in 1850).Whenever there is an unreasonable director, people say: "The price of wheat is the same, so this matter has to be like this." My ears were all over my ears, and though I must confess that I doubted whether the nation was as grateful to the Faculty as Mr. Spenlow said, I accepted his remarks with respect.As for the price of wheat per hu, I humbly believe that it is not within my power.So far, I have never been able to defeat that Dendrobium wheat.In my life, whenever there is a problem, it will come out and beat me.Now, I still don't quite know what it has to do with me at countless different times, or what right it has to overwhelm me, no matter what the issue is, as long as this old fellow named Hu insists on intervening. (I think it does it all the time) and I'm screwed. This is off topic.I'm not the guy to touch the doctoral school and ruin the country.By my silence I humbly agree with every word said by the man of my seniority and learning.We also talked of The Stranger, and of the play, and of the two horses, till we came to the gates of Mr. Spenlow's house. Mr Spenlow's house has a lovely garden.Although it is not the best season of the year to enjoy gardens, I am still fascinated by the beautifully maintained gardens.There was a lovely lawn, with clumps of trees, and viewing paths which I could still make out in the gloom, with arched trellises holding seasonal flowers and plants. "Miss Spenlow is walking alone here," I thought, "My God!" We entered brightly lit houses and walked down passages hung with tall hats, bonnets, coats, checked jackets, gloves, whips and walking sticks. "Where is Miss Dora?" said Mr. Spenlow to the servant. "Dora!" I thought to myself. "What a beautiful name!" We turned into a room near by (I think that was the breakfast-room, famous for its brown East India wines), and I heard a voice say, "Mr. Copperfield, little Dora, little Dora's confidant!" "It was Mr. Spenlow's voice, doubtless, but I couldn't hear it, and I didn't care whose it was. In an instant it was all over. My fate was fulfilled. I was a captive, a slave. .I'm head over heels in love with Dora Spinlow! I don't think she is human.She's a fairy, she's Silver, I don't know what she is—something no one has ever seen, something everyone yearns for.I immediately fell into the abyss of love.On the edge of the abyss, I didn't stop, I didn't look down, I didn't look back, and I didn't even have a word with her, so I fell headfirst. "I," said a familiar voice after I bowed, "I've seen Mr. Copperfield before." -------- ① The air fairy in Greek mythology. It was not Dora who spoke.No; but that close friend, Miss Murdstone! I don't think I was surprised at the time.As far as I can reliably judge, the instinct of astonishment had ceased to exist in me.In the material world, except for Dora, all amazing things are of little importance.I said, "How do you do, Miss Murdstone? I hope you are well." She replied, "Very well." I said, "How is Mr. Murdstone?" Jianwang, thank you." Mr. Spenlow was startled, I believe, to see that we were acquainted, when he found an opportunity to break in and say: "Copperfield," said he, "I am glad to know that you and Miss Murdstone have known each other for a long time." "Mr. Copper and I," said Miss Murdstone, with a straight face, "are related. We knew each other briefly. He was a boy then. Fate has separated us since then. I almost know He's not coming." I replied that I would recognize her anywhere.That's absolutely true. "With the kindness of Miss Mount Murdstone," said Mr. Spinlow to me, "accepted to be the confidant of little Dora--if I may say so. Little Dora lost her mother, to the credit of Murdstone. Mademoiselle to be her companion and protector." At that time, a thought flashed through my mind. I felt that Miss Murdstone was not so much a protector as an attacker, just like the hidden weapon called a self-defense weapon hidden in the pocket of her clothes.But I did not think long about any subject then except Dora, and I only took time to look at her, and I thought I saw in her coquettish wayward manner that she and her companion and protector were not at odds. Not very intimate.Just then, I heard a bell.Mr. Spenlow said it was the first bell for supper.So I went to change clothes. In that state of ecstasy, it would seem ridiculous to remember to change clothes or do anything else.All I could do was sit in front of the fire, chewing the keys from my felt bag, and think of charming, childlike, bright-eyed, lovely Dora.What a figure, what a face, how refined, how varied, and how charming her manners! Soon, the bell rang again, and I had no time to tidy myself up as one might wish under such circumstances, so I hurriedly changed my clothes and went downstairs.There are already some guests there.Dora was talking to an old gentleman with white hair.In spite of his gray hair--he was, he said, a great-grandfather himself--I was madly jealous. What state of mind am I in!I'm jealous of everyone.I can't bear the thought of anything being more familiar to me than Mr. Spenlow.It pains me to hear them talk about events I didn't attend.A man with a very smooth bald head asked me very mildly across the table if it was my first time here, and I wanted to retaliate against him for all the rough behavior. I don't remember anyone else being there except Dora.I don't remember any dishes on the table except Dora.I get the impression that I swallowed Dora whole, and removed half a dozen plates of food untouched by me.I sat next to her and talked to her.Her voice is soft and sweet, her charming smile is full of charm, and her gestures are so pleasant that a fascinating young man has become her desperate slave.She's petite in everything, and the petite the cuter, I think. When she and Miss Murdstone (there were no other women at the party) came out of the dining-room, I had a fancy which was disturbed only by the fear that Miss Murdstone would speak against me of her.The bald, smooth, gentle man told me a long story, about the garden, I think; I felt as if I had heard him say something like "my gardener" a few times.I pretended to be listening very attentively, but I was always playing with Dora in a Garden of Eden. Miss Murdstone's grim and indifferent expression, as we entered the drawing-room, gave me another worry, lest I should be libeled in the presence of those I loved.However, an unexpected incident relieved me. "David Copperfield," Miss Murdstone beckoned me, and led me to a window. "Say something." Only Miss Murdstone and I looked at each other. "David Copperfield," said Miss Murdstone, "I needn't dwell on domestic matters. That's not a pleasant subject." "Not at all, miss," I said. "Not at all," agreed Miss Murdstone. "I don't like to recall old disagreements, or old rough behavior. I was roughed up by a person—a woman, I regret to say, for the sake of our women—whom I loathe and Disgusting, so I won't mention her." For my aunt's sake, I was very indignant; but I said it would be better not to mention Miss Murdstone, if she wished.I also said that when someone mentioned her unkindly, I couldn't help expressing my opinion directly and clearly. Miss Murdstone closed her eyes, bowed her head contemptuously; then slowly opened them, and continued: "David Copperfield, I don't want to hide the fact that when you were a child I had an unsatisfactory opinion of you. It may be wrong, and you may have changed for the better. Now, among us I believe that I belong to a family known for its firmness, I am not made by circumstances or one who can change. I can have my own opinion about you. You can have my own opinion about me. Your own opinion." It was me who bowed my head this time. "However, these views," said Miss Murdstone, "have no need to be in conflict here. In the circumstances at hand, it is in every respect better not to be so. Since fate has brought us together again, then We shall meet again on other occasions. I propose that we live here as distant relatives. Family circumstances dictate that we should neither speak of each other at all. Do you agree with that?" "Miss Murdstone," I replied, "I feel that you and Mr. Murdstone have been cruel to me, and cruel to my mother. As long as I live, I will not change my opinion. However, I fully agree." your advice." Miss Murdstone closed her eyes again and bowed her head.Then she just tapped the backs of my hands with her cold, hard fingers and walked away fiddling with the little chains around her wrists and neck.The little chains seemed to be the same as when I first saw her, for the pattern was exactly the same.These chains, connected with Miss Murdstone's character, remind me of the chains on prison doors; That's all I knew that night: the queen of my heart played a marvelous instrument like the guitar and sang charming ditties in French.The main line of the lyrics is: "No matter what, we should dance non-stop, ta la la, ta la la!" I was deeply intoxicated in happiness.I refuse to eat snacks.My soul is particularly intimidated by alcohol.When Miss Murdstone took her under arrest, she smiled, and held out her fragrant hand to me.I took a look at myself in a mirror, and I looked stupid like an idiot.I fell asleep in a state of ecstasy and woke up in a state of frail fascination. It was a sunny morning, and it was still early, and I thought I should go for a walk on the paths under those arched flower sheds, and play with her shadow.As I was walking down the aisle, I met her dog.The dog's name is Gypsy (short for Gypsy).I walked towards it gently, because I fell in love with it too.But it bared all its teeth, got under a chair and barked loudly, and would not accept my petting at all. It was cool and quiet in the garden.As I walked, I thought how happy I would be if I got engaged to this baby.As to matters of marriage, property, etc., I believe I was as innocent then as I was when I loved little Emily.To be allowed to call her Dora, to write to her, to love her, to adore her, to be able to believe that she thought of me even when she was with other people, was to me the pinnacle of all human ambition—I believe it was The limit of my ambition has been reached.No doubt, I am a sentimental little lover; but above all, I have a pure heart.Looking back on all this, although I feel it is funny, I don't feel slighted. Not long after I walked, I met her at the corner.When I remembered that corner, I felt a shudder from head to toe again, and the pen in my hand trembled. "You - came out - so early, Miss Spenlow," said I. "It's so boring in the house," she answered, "and Miss Murdstone is so absurd. She's talking nonsense that I can't come out until the weather is a little dry. Do it!" (Here she laughs her sweetest laugh ). On Sunday mornings, the mornings when I don't practice music; I've got to have something to do. So I told Dad last night that I had to come out. Besides, it's the brightest time of day, don't you think?" Desperately and stammering, I thought it was bright then, but it was dark a minute ago. "Are you speaking kindly?" said Dora, "or has the weather really changed?" I stammered even more that this was not a polite word, but a plain fact; although I did not feel any change in the weather.Embarrassed, I added: "It's my mood that has changed." She shook back her curls, which now hid her blushing face.I never saw curly hair like that—how could I, because there was never such curly hair!And the straw hat and blue ribbon on top of the curly hair, if I could hang them in my bedroom in Buckingham Street, what a priceless treasure it would be! "Did you just come back from Paris?" I said. "Yes," she said. "Have you ever been to Paris?" "No." "Oh! I hope you'll be there soon. You'll love it!" The sadness in my heart couldn't help but surfaced on my face.That she wanted me to go, that she thought I would go, was beyond me.I despise Paris!I despise France!I said that at present, for any earthly reason, I would not leave England.Nothing moves me.In a word, she shook those curls again.At this moment, the little dog ran down the path to rescue us. It was very jealous of us and kept barking at me.She held it in her arms - oh my! —she caressed it, but it kept barking.I tried to touch it, but it wouldn't; so she patted it.It pained me even more to see her punishing it by patting its insensitive nose, closing its eyes and licking her hand, still whining on the double bass.Finally, it quieted down - with its head against her dimpled chin, of course it should be quiet! —So we went to a greenhouse. "You and Miss Murdstone are not intimate, are you?" said Dora-- "my darling!" (This last sentence was addressed to the dog. Oh, if only it were addressed to me!) "No," I replied. "Not intimate at all." "She's a nuisance," said Dora, pursing her lips. "I can't see why papa chose such a loathsome fellow for my company—isn't he, Kip? We don't trust that eccentricity." people, Kip and I. We trust whoever we like to trust, and we're going to find our friends, and we don't want them to find them for us, don't we, Kip?" Kip answered with a pleasant sound, like that of a small teapot boiling.For me, each word is a new chain added to an old chain. "It's sad, just because we don't have a loving mother, we've got to have a curmudgeon like Miss Murdstone staring at us all the time—isn't it, Kip? Never mind, Kip. We don't trust her Well, whatever she is, we're going to make ourselves as happy as we can, and we're going to play tricks on her and not flatter her--don't we, Kip?" If all this continues, I think I will definitely kneel down on the gravel road, or walk on my knees, or be kicked out of the door immediately.Fortunately, the greenhouse is not far from us, and we will be there soon. There are many beautiful geraniums on display in the conservatory.We wandered among the geraniums, and now and then Dora stopped to praise this or that pot, and I stopped to praise the same pot.Dora smiled childishly and picked up the dog and sniffed the flowers.If not all three of us are in Wonderland, then I must be.To this day, the smell of geranium leaves gives me half-shocked, half-joyed change at that moment.Then I saw, under a mass of flowers and shiny leaves, a straw hat and blue ribbon, thick curly hair, and a little black dog cradled in beautiful arms. Miss Murdstone is already looking for us.She found us here, and presented us with that unpleasant face, with its chasms filled with powder; and she wanted Dora to kiss her.Then she took Dora's arm and led us to breakfast, like a funeral procession of soldiers. Since Dora made the tea, I don't know how many cups I drank.But I do remember sitting there drinking like hell until my whole nervous system (if I had one at the time) crashed.Soon we were going to church.In the family box, Miss Murdstone sat between Dora and me, but I heard her sing, when the whole congregation was gone.There was a sermon in the service - concerning Dora, of course - and I fear that is all I can remember of that service. We spent that day quietly, there were no guests, we only took a walk once, the four of us had family dinner and read books at night.Miss Murdstone, with a large volume of sermons before her, was watching us, watching us earnestly.Ah, Mr. Spenlow sat across from me with a square handkerchief on his head after dinner that day, and I had no idea that I was embracing him warmly in my fantasy as my soon-to-be son-in-law!When I bid him farewell in the night, it did not occur to him that in my fancy he had fully consented to my engagement to Dora, and I was blessing him! We set off early in the morning, for a case to rescue a ship was before the Naval Court.The case requires knowledge of all things nautical, and as we in the Doctor's College don't know much about that kind of subject, the judge has kindly called in two years' senior specialist from the Trinity to help him. he.Dora, however, made tea again at the breakfast table.When she stood on the steps with Jeep in her arms, I took off my hat to her from the carriage with a mixture of sadness and joy. How I felt about the Court of Admiralty that day; how my head made a mess of the case when it was heard; When Sir deserted me and went home--I had hoped like mad that he would take me back to his house--I felt like a sailor abandoned on a desert island; I shall not bother to describe this Nothing came of it.If that sleepy old courtroom could wake up and bring into visible form the daydreams I had there about Dora, it might reveal the real me. That's not to say, I only dreamed that day.I dreamed day after day, week after week, term after term.I went there, not to hear the proceedings in progress, but to think of Dora.Those cases lingered before me, if I remember, that only in marriages did I (thinking of Dora) wonder why married people were unhappy; What would I do first with Dora, as I would inherit the property in question.In the first week of my fever, I bought four splendid waistcoats, not for myself, I didn't like that kind of stuff, but for Dora; Putting on tight boots made my feet that never had corns ever have this thing and never had a good time.If I can find out the shoes I was wearing at that time and compare the size with my feet, it can vividly explain how I was feeling at that time. Although I crippled myself in honor of Dora, I walked many walks in the hope of seeing her.In no time I was as well known as the postman in and around Norwood.Likewise, I have traveled all over London.I walked up and down the block with the best women's stores, I lingered like a restless ghost in the trade fairs, I was exhausted, but I still slogged through the parks.Sometimes, long after, I saw her on rare occasions.Or see her waving gloves behind the car window, or see her and go for a short walk with her and Miss Murdstone, and talk to her a few words.In the latter case I was always sad because I felt that I hadn't said the last important word, or that she had no idea how religious I was, or that she didn't even care about me at all.Needless to say, I have been looking forward to being invited to the Spenlow's again.But I'm constantly disappointed because I'm never invited again. Mrs. Crupp must be a woman of excellent eyesight; for when the affair was only a few weeks old, I wrote even to Agnes only that I had been at Mr. Spenlow's. "He," I wrote, "had only one daughter," and I didn't have the courage to write more thoroughly.I said Mrs. Crupp must be a discerning woman, because she sensed it at the very beginning.One evening when I was in a state of disquiet, she came up and asked me if I would give her a little cardamom juice mixed with rhubarb and seven drops of cloves, when she was suffering from the disease I have just described.It's the best medicine for her troubles--and if I don't have that on hand, I'll give her a little brandy, and it's the next best medicine.She said she had no taste for the brandy, but that it was the next best medicine.As I had never heard of the first drug, and the latter was always in the closet, I gave Mrs. Crupp a glass, and she began to drink it in my presence, lest I should suspect that she would use it. for any improper use. "Come on, sir," said Mrs. Crupp, "I can't bear to see you like this, sir, and I'm a mother myself." I didn't quite understand how it was possible to say that to me, but I did my best to smile at Mrs. Crupp, as graciously as possible. "Hello, sir," said Mrs. Crupp. "Forgive me. I know what it is, sir. There's a young lady in here." "Mrs. Crupp?" I said blushing at once. "Oh, alas! Hope, sir!" Mrs. Crupp nodded encouragingly. "Don't despair, sir! There are plenty of people in the world if she doesn't smile at you. Yes, you... can be a pleasant young man, Mr. Copperfall, and you must know your own worth, sir. " Mrs. Crupp always calls me Mr. Copperfall.First, it's not my last name, no doubt, and second, I can't help associating it vaguely with a laundry day. "How do you think there'd be any young ladies here, Mrs. Crupp?" said I. . -------- ① Copper can be used as copper solution or pot solution. Copperful means a pot full of clothes. "Mr. Copperfall," said Mrs. Crupp affectionately, "I am a mother myself." For a moment Mrs. Crupp was obliged to put her hand on her purple bodice and take sips of "medicine" to ease her relapse.Finally, she spoke again. "When your dear aunt took the present lodgings for you, Mr. Copperfall," said Mrs. Crupp, "I said, I now have someone I can take care of. Thank goodness! I said,' I've got someone I can look after now!'—you eat less, sir, and drink less." "Is that all you infer, Mrs. Crupp?" I said. "Sir," said Mrs. Crupp, in a tone that was almost stern, "I've done laundry for other boys besides you. A young man can be too self-absorbed or too inattentive to himself. He can put his A man's hair can be brushed too often, or too little. He can wear boots that are too big, or boots that are too small. It all depends on the boy's established personality. But if he goes to extremes in any , sir, there is always a young lady in both cases." Mrs. Crupp shook her head so determinedly that I lost it before I even had time to fight. “在你以前死在这里的那个人，”克鲁普太太说道，“他就是因为恋爱——是和一个酒店女招待——虽然酒喝得胀了起来，还立刻买了些背心呢。” “克鲁普太太，”我说道，“我得请求你，千万别把和我有关的年轻小姐和酒店女招待或其它什么别的扯到一起吧。” “科波福尔先生，”克鲁普太太忙说道，“我自己就是一个母亲，也不至于那样。先生，如果我让你心烦了，就请你原谅。我从来不愿闯进不欢迎我的地方。不过，你是一个年轻绅士，科波福尔先生，我要劝你，提起劲来，要抱希望，也要知道你的价值。如果你学点什么，先生，”克鲁普太太说道，“喏，如果你去玩玩九柱戏什么的，也许会觉得能转移下你心思，对你也有益呢。” 说这番话时，克鲁普太太装出很珍重那杯白兰地的样子把它喝完，然后行个礼就告退了。她的影子隐入门口的黑暗中时，我觉得克鲁普太太实在有点冒失。但同时从另一种观点来看，我乐意接受她的劝告，将其视为使我今后能格外注意保秘的提醒，也是一种告诫。