Chapter 37 Chapter 33 Happy Time

During these days, I fell in love with Dora more and more.In times of disappointment and pain I sought consolation in her shadow, and even somewhat compensated for the loss of my friend.The more I pity myself or others, the more I try to find comfort in Dora's shadow.The more deceived and distressed I am in this world, the brighter Dora shines high above the dust.Where Dora came from, and what it has to do with high things, I believe I have no real idea of ​​any of these.But I'm pretty sure that any notion of her being a normal human being like any other girl is something I reject with absolute indignation and contempt.

It can be said that I have soaked in all thoughts about Dora.Not only did I fall deeply in love with her, but I also occupied my whole body and mind with her.To put it this way, the love squeezed out of me is enough to drown anyone, and after that, there is enough left to soak me inside and out. The first thing I did for my own good when I got back was to go for a nighttime walk at Norwood, thinking of Dora as I did that deep riddle I had when I was a boy. "Run around the house and never touch the house." I believe this profound riddle shoots at the moon.Whatever it was, I, Dora's slave to the moon, walked round the house and gardens for two hours, peeping in through the fence, and thrusting my chin up so as not to be caught by the fence. The rusty nails on the top are pierced into the face and I can kiss the light in the window, and sometimes absurdly pray that the night can protect my Dora-I don’t know what to protect her from, let’s assume it is from fire.Maybe it was to avoid the rats she hated so much.

-------- ①The original text is (moon-struckslaveofDora), literally translated as "Dora's slave who was struck by the moonlight and lost his mind." Westerners think that moonlight makes people crazy.In order to facilitate the understanding of Chinese readers, this translation is made. My thoughts were so preoccupied with love, and I trusted Peggotty so naturally, that one night, when I saw her tidying up my closet again with the same old tools she carried with her, I tactfully put my big Secretly told her.Peggotty was interested, but I could not get her to accept my views on the subject.She sided with me desperately, and could not understand why I was disturbed, why I was depressed because of it. "The young lady should be delighted to have such a handsome lover," said she; "as for her father, well, what does that man expect?"

I found, however, that Mr. Spenlow's counselor's gown and stiff collar lowered Peggotty's airs, and gave her more and more respect for a man who seemed to me increasingly sacred.It seemed to me that when he sat upright in the courtroom surrounded by those papers, he was like a little lighthouse in a calm sea, emitting a circle of light around him.By the way, when I sat in the courtroom too, I remember, I used to think, if those old dazed judges, the old doctor had known Dora, would they care about her too; if they could propose marriage to Dora Will they be dazed with joy; I am amazed to think that Dora's playing and singing have me so enthralled, and that these benumbed people have no other fantasies after hearing it.

I despise them, despise any of them.I have a personal enmity for all these indifferent old gardeners in the flower-beds of the human mind.A courtroom is nothing more than a place where endless mistakes are made, and the courtroom enclosures are no more tender or poetic than the hotel enclosures. I handled Peggotty's affairs myself with considerable pride, I certified the will, settled the account with the estate tax office, took her to the bank; and soon all was arranged.In between these legal formalities, we went to Ship Street to see a kind of sweating wax figure (which, I believe, has melted away in the last twenty years), and to Miss Ringwood's exhibition, which I remember It's like a mausoleum for reflection and confession, but it's just embroidery; to visit the Tower of London; to climb to the top of St. Paul's Church and look into the distance.These sights enabled Peggotty to be fully happy in the circumstances.I felt that, because of her association with her sewing-box over the years, only St. Paul's Church could be compared with the picture on the lid of the box, and she thought, in some respects, how could this church compare with that picture!

Peggotty's business is conventionally called "routine business" in our Doctor's College, which is easy to do and very beneficial to the handler; after the business was over, I took her to the office one morning to pay the handling fee.According to old Tiffy, Mr. Spenlow took a man to take the oath, as our place is near the bishop's office, and not far from the office of the archbishop's assistant, and I know he will be back soon. and asked Peggotty to wait there. In Doctor's College, we are a bit like undertakers when it comes to wills; and when we have to deal with mourners, as a rule we always have to look somewhat mournful.Also out of courtesy, we are always happy to receive the parties who receive the marriage certificate.I therefore suggested to Peggotty that she would see that Mr. Spenlow would have recovered from the shock of Mr. Baggis' death.Sure enough, he walked in like a groom.

But Peggotty and I were in no mood to look at him, for then we saw Mr. Murdstone walking with him.His appearance hadn't changed much, his hair was as thick as ever, and of course just as dark; his eyes were as untrustworthy as ever. "Oh, Copperfield?" said Mr. Spenlow. "You know the gentleman, I believe?" I bowed slightly to the gentleman, and Peggotty only nodded to him.He met the two of us unexpectedly. He was a little embarrassed at first, but he quickly made up his mind and walked towards us. "I hope," he said, "that your grades are good?"

"That won't interest you," I said. "If you want to know, that's good." We look at each other.He spoke again to Peggotty. "And you," he said, "I am sorry to know that your husband has died." "It is not the first loss in my life, Mr. Murdstone," said Peggotty, trembling, "but I am glad that no one is to blame for the loss, that no one is to blame for it." Take charge once." "Well!" said he, "it is pleasant to think that you have done your duty." "I took no man's life," said Peggotty, "with pleasure I think of it! No, Mr. Murdstone, I sent no dear man to an early grave with pain and terror!"

He glanced at her somberly—repentantly, I think; then, turning his head to me, he said (but he only looked at my feet, not my face): "We will not see each other again in a short time--no doubt to the satisfaction of both of us, for such meetings are never pleasant. You have always objected to my legitimate authority for your sake and your improvement, and neither have I. I hope you will appreciate my kindness now. There is an incompatible prejudice between the two of us—" "It's been years, I believe," I interrupted him. He smiled, and gave me a very venomous glance from his dark eyes.

"This prejudice has corrupted your childlike heart!" he said. "It has also weakened your poor mother's life. You are right, but I hope you will be better, I hope you will correct yourself." With this he entered Mr. Spenlow's room, and the conversation, which had been whispered in a corner outside the office, came to an end.He said aloud in his most tactful manner: "Gentlemen in Mr. Spenlow's line are used to dealing with family disputes, and know how complicated and troublesome they are!" He paid the certificate fee as he spoke, and then took the stack from Mr. Spenlow. Neat certificates, and listened to Mr. Spenlow say some kind words to bless him and the lady, then shook Mr. Spenlow's hand and went out.

After hearing what he said, if I tried to persuade Peggotty (who was only angry with me, what a man!) that it was not so difficult to not be angry, it was also difficult for me to calm myself.I did not hesitate to embrace Peggotty in the presence of Mr. Spenlow and the clerks, to assuage her agitation at the memory of her old wounds. Mr. Spenlow does not seem to know any relation between Mr. Murdstone and me, and I am content with that; for the recollection of my poor mother's life is beyond me to admit him to myself. of.If Mr. Spenlow thought about it, he also seemed to think that my aunt was the one in power in our family, and that there was a rebel party headed by someone—at least, while we waited for Mr. Tiffey to figure out Peggotty I heard this meaning from his words. "Miss Trotwood," said he, "was unquestionably firm, and generally uncompromising to the opposition. I admire her character, and I can congratulate you, Copperfield, on being on the right side. Between relations Controversies are deplorable—and yet so common—and the point is to be on the right side.” By that, I guessed, he meant to be on the side of the rich. "It's a good marriage, I suppose?" said Mr. Spenlow. I explained that I knew nothing about the marriage. "Really?" said he, "from Mr. Murdstone's casual remark--as one often does in such circumstances-and from Miss Murdstone's insinuations. , I should say, this is finally a good marriage." "You mean rich, sir?" I asked. "Yes," said Mr. Spenlow, "I understand it is because of the money. But also because of the beauty of the woman, I hear." "Really? Is his new wife young?" "Just coming of age," said Mr. Spenlow, "is such an urgency that I thought they'd been waiting for it." "God help her!" said Peggotty.Her tone was so strong that everyone was surprised, and the three of us were a little uneasy until Tiffy sent the bill. Presently, however, old Tiffy appeared, and presented the bill to Mr. Spenlow.Mr. Spenlow tucked his chin into his scarf, dabbed it, and reviewed the items with a disapproving expression.Then sighed, as if it was all Jorkins had meant, and handed Tiffy the bill. "Yes," he said, "that's pretty good. Exactly. I'd be very happy if I could charge what I actually spent. But it's one of the obscene obligations of my profession, and I can't just do what I want." To act, I have a partner—Mr. Jorkins." When he said this with kindness and melancholy that almost amounted to no charge at all, I thanked him in Peggotty's place, and paid Tiffy the money.Peggotty, therefore, returned to her lodgings, and Mr. Spenlow and I went to court.In court we heard a divorce case by a very delicate little statute - I believe that statute is repealed now, but I've seen a few engagements annulled by it - and that's what the little statute is advantage.The husband's full name was Thomas Benjamin, and he had obtained the marriage certificate in Thomas's name alone, so that he kept Benjamin a secret in case things didn't turn out as he had hoped.Sure enough he didn't feel quite as well as he'd hoped, and perhaps he got tired of his wife (poor woman), and to-day, a year or two after his marriage, was pronounced by a friend as Thomas Benjamin , so he was never married.Much to his delight: the court conceded. I have to say that I doubt the justice of this verdict, and even the handful of wheat that smoothes over all unconventional behavior cannot deter me from doubting me. -------- ①Refer to the note in Chapter 26. On this point, however, Mr. Robbins and I disagree.He said, look at this world, there are both good and bad; look at the church canon, there are also good and bad.It's all part of a system.very good.Here's what you should know! I dare not suggest to Dora's father--I am not so bold--that the world could be improved if only we would get up early in the morning and take off our coats and go to work.I'm just saying, I think we can improve the doctoral school.Mr. Spenlow said he would especially dissuade me from it.Because this is not in line with my status as a superior; however, he expressed his willingness to hear what I think should be improved in the doctoral college. At this point, we have admitted that the person was not really married.We came out of the courtroom and went through the Probate Office, and I'll use the part we're going through as an example.I said I thought the Probate Office was a curiously run institution.Mr. Spenlow asked whence the words came from.With the respect due to his vast experience (though, I am afraid, more due to his being Dora's father), I replied, that all the legacy of the great province of Canterbury has been preserved for three hundred years. People's wills originally belonged to a Registrar, yet the bureau's office building was a simple building that wasn't designed for that purpose, and the Registrar officials, for their own benefit, didn't care that it wasn't safe at all. , although there are documents from the ceiling to the floor, there are no fire protection facilities, which fully reflects the self-seeking character of the registration bureau officials.It may not be quite normal for these people to have a lot of expenses financed by the people, but to stuff the wills of the people casually, just to save money, and not to care about anything else.These officials, who make up to eight or nine thousand pounds a year (not to mention assistant officials and high clerks, etc.), refuse to take out a small part of that money and have to pay it to people of all classes. Perhaps it doesn't make sense to find a sufficiently safe place for your important documents (not to mention whether these people are willing to do so)?In such a large establishment, where all the high officials are mere corpses, and the unfortunate clerks who do their important work in the cold, dark rooms upstairs are some of the worst treated and neglected people in London, Maybe that's not fair?The chief registrar, who was supposed to seek all necessary justice for the people who kept complaining, took advantage of his power to do nothing but get a dry salary (he can also serve as a priest and a church deacon at the same time and receive double salary), while the people were placed Due to the very inconvenient position, we can see this kind of scene every afternoon when the affairs of the bureau are busy.We also know it's ridiculous, maybe it's not very conventional?In a word, this Canterbury Diocesan Office of Probates is, by and large, such a pernicious thing, pure poisonous nonsense.If it hadn't been tucked into a remote corner of St. Paul's Church, it would have been messed up long ago. Mr. Spenlow smiled a little when I got a little excited on the subject, and proceeded to give me his opinion on this one, as he had done on other matters.He said, what kind of problem is this?This is a sensory issue.If the people think their wills are safe, and see no need to improve the situation, who loses?No one.Who has benefited?All the salaried people!That's fine.That is the main benefit.The system may not be perfect; but nothing is perfect.What he objected to, though, was the wedge.In the Wills Bureau, the concept of the country was always honorable, and once a wedge was driven in the Wills Bureau, the glory of the country also faded.He believed that the principle of a good man was to accept things as he saw them; and he believed that the Probate Office would continue in our generation, which he firmly believed.I listened to what he said, but my heart was still full of doubts.But I found him quite right; for that institution not only survives today, but the Congressional Report eighteen years ago did not detract from it in the slightest.That report contained all my opinions on it.According to that report, the number of wills in existence equals only two and a half years.So what did they do with those wills in the past; did they lose a lot, or sell some to the creamers now and then?I do not know either.I'm glad my will isn't there; Also hope my will doesn't go there for a while. I have written these words in this proud chapter, and they should be here.Mr. Spenlow and I continued our walk and conversation, until at last we came upon general matters.Mr. Spenlow, therefore, told me that it was Dora's birthday next week, and that he would be very glad if I would attend a little dinner which was given that day.Immediately I was devastated.When I got a little lacy letter the next day that said "Dad agrees, please don't forget," I was completely dumbfounded. So I was in a state of dementia for the rest of that day. In preparing for this happy event, I believe I have made all kinds of mistakes.I blush when I think of the scarf I bought at that time.And the boots I bought were almost a torture device.I bought a neat little wicker basket to take with the carriage to Norwood the night before.I think that little rattan basket is almost a confession in itself.There are available biscuits engraved with hot words.At six o'clock in the morning I bought a bouquet for Dora in the Covent Garden market.At ten o'clock I rode to Norwood on a fine gray horse hired for the meeting: I kept the bouquet in my hat to keep it fresh. I thought I would do the same folly as any other young man, in this case, of not seeing Dora in the garden, and pretending to be in a hurry to get to the house or into the house.Oh, but I did find the house, and did dismount in front of the garden, and be dragged by those pinched boots across the meadow where Dora sat, and what a sight it was to see Figure it! —and sat her on a chair under the lilac tree, in a white hat and a sky-blue dress in such a beautiful morning, with a flock of butterflies flying beside her. There was a young lady--a little older than herself--who was, I should say, about twenty years old, with her.Her name was Mills, and Dora called her Julia.She is Dora's close friend.How happy is this Miss Mills! Jeep is there.Jeep Zhunhui called to me again.When I presented the bouquet, it grinned with envy.Of course it will.If it knew how much I adore its mistress, it would do the same! "Oh, thank you, Mr. Copperfield! What lovely flowers!" said Dora. I've been imagining the most beautiful words the three miles I've come, and I wanted to say that the flowers were beautiful before they even touched her.But I can't say it.She overwhelms me.Seeing her press the flower on her dimpled little chin, I was so intoxicated that I couldn't speak anymore, and my mind was out of my mind.I wonder why I didn't say "Kill me, Miss Mills, if you have any mercy, let me die here!" So Dora took my flowers to Kip to smell.But Kip growled angrily and refused to sniff.Dora laughed.And he held the flower closer to Jeep, insisting that he let it smell it.Kip caught a little geranium flower with his teeth, and bit it, thinking that there was a cat in it.Dora hit it, and pursed her lips, and said, "My poor pretty flowers!" I thought her words were full of regret, as if it was I who had been bitten by Kip.I really wish I was bitten by it! " "Mr. Copperfield, you will be very pleased to hear," said Dora, "that the odious Miss Murdstone is not here. She has gone to her brother's wedding, and will not be here for at least three weeks. Isn't that fun?" I said, I'm sure she must be happy about it, and whatever makes her happy makes me happy too.Miss Mills looked at us with a smile of great wisdom and compassion. "She's the most annoying person I've ever seen in my life," said Dora. "You won't believe how bad-tempered and annoying she is, Julia." "Yes, I can believe it, my dear!" said Julia. "Perhaps, you can believe it, dear," said Dora, putting her hand in Julia's. "My dear, forgive me for not distinguishing you from others at first." From this I learned that Miss Mills had undergone changes and suffered sorrows; perhaps I drew this conclusion from the great wisdom and compassion I had noticed.In that day, I found that the unfortunate plot was this: she had loved the unkind, and therefore she retired long ago with the terrible memory, but the unfrustrated hope and love for the young still remained. With a peaceful mind of concern. At this moment Mr. Spenlow came out of the room.Dora came up to her and said, "Look, Daddy, what a beautiful flower!" and Miss Mills smiled thoughtfully, as if to say, "You snails, squandering this bright morning of your life Lose your short life!" Then, we all left the grass and got into the carriage that had already been prepared. Never in my life will I take another horseback trip like this.I never did that either.There were just the three of them in the carriage, and their baskets, mine, and guitar case; of course, the back of the carriage was open, and I rode behind it, with Dora sitting facing me, with her back to the horses pulling the carriage. In the car, she put the bouquet next to her on the cushion, and she didn't let Kip touch it at all, so as not to break it.From time to time she picked up the flower ball and smelled its fragrance to refresh herself.At such moments, our eyes always meet.It surprised me that I didn't fall over the head of my gray steed into the carriage. Lots of dust, I believe.Very dusty, I believe.I vaguely remember Mr. Spenlow trying to persuade me to ride in the dust behind the cart, but I couldn't detect the dust.I only felt that Dora was surrounded by a cloud of love and beauty, and I couldn't feel anything else.Sometimes Mr. Spenlow stood up and asked me what I thought of the view, and I said it was breathtaking, and I believe it was pleasant, but I thought it was all Dora.The sun shines on Dora.The bird sang Dora.It was Dora who blew the wind.Even the wildflowers on the hedge were Dora, and every stamen was a Dora.I am relieved that Miss Mills understands me.Only she can fully understand my feelings. I don't know how far we went, and I still don't quite know where we got, maybe not far from Guildford.Maybe it was a place that the magician in the Arabian Nights carved out just for that day, and it was closed forever after we left.It was a meadow on a hill with soft mud, shaded trees, heather, and all kinds of beautiful scenery. It was annoying to find out that someone was already waiting for us.My jealousy really knows no bounds, I'm even jealous of women.People of my sex were my sworn enemies—especially a guy three or four years my senior with a red beard who looked like a big liar, with a big red beard on which he swaggered. Together we opened the food basket and prepared the picnic, and the red beard claimed to be able to make salad (I don't believe it) and insisted on showing off.Some young ladies washed the lettuce for him and cut the vegetables under his guidance.Dora is one of them.I felt that I was destined to duel with this man, and he or I would be defeated. Redbeard was making salad—I was surprised they ate that stuff, which I would never touch—and offered to manage the "wine store."What a clever thing he was, he turned a hole in the trunk of a tree into a wine cellar.Later, I saw him eating at Dora's feet with a plate containing half a large lobster! For a while since I saw that wretched man, I didn't feel very clearly what had happened.I'm in high spirits, I know; but it's made.I glued on a little thing with small eyes in a red dress and kept flirting with her.She also insisted on accepting my attentions, but whether it was because of me or because of what she had in mind for the red beard, I don't know.When everyone drank to Dora, I toasted her, pretending to interrupt the conversation because of it, and then resumed the conversation right away.As I bowed to Dora, I met her eyes, and I felt that there was supplication in her eyes.But the look looked at me from above the red beard's head, and I hardened my heart. The little thing in the red dress has a mother in the green dress; I think the latter wants to separate us out of strategy.When the remnants of the picnic were collected, everyone dispersed.I wandered up and down the woods alone with regret and regret, wondering if I should excuse my discomfort and get away on that gray steed--but I didn't know where to fly.At this moment I met Dora walking with Miss Mills. "Mr. Copperfield," said Miss Mills, "you are not happy." I apologized to her and said I wasn't upset at all. "And Dora," said Miss Mills, "you're not happy." Oh no!Not at all unhappy. "Mr. Copperfield and Dora," said Miss Mills, with an air that could be called old-fashioned respectability. "Come on. Don't wither the spring flowers by a little misunderstanding. The spring flowers." The buds have sprouted, and once withered they never bloom again. I," said Miss Mills, "say this from experience, which was long ago and irrevocably past. Springs that glisten in the sun should not be blocked merely because of half-heartedness; the fertile soil of the Sahara should not be cultivated carelessly." I had a fever all over my body, it was so hot that I didn't know what I had done.All I know is that I held Dora's little hand and kissed it, and she let me kiss it too!I kiss Miss Mills' hand.I think we have all entered the most beautiful place in heaven! We no longer descend from heaven.We stay there.At first we walked up and down the woods, away from the others; I took the arm of shy Dora; God knows, it was silly, but if always have this silly feeling, forever How happy to be lost in the woods! Unfortunately, time flies too fast.We heard people laughing and talking and shouting "Where's Dora, so we walked back. They asked Dora to sing. Redbeard was going to the carriage to get the fiddle case, but Dora told him only I would know." Where's the violin case. Then Redbeard will be miserable. I bring the violin case, I open the violin case, I take out the guitar, I sit down beside her, I hold her handkerchief and gloves ,·I savor every note sung by her lovely voice, she sings for me who loves her, others can applaud, but it has nothing to do with them. I was drunk, and I was afraid that I would be too happy to be real; I was afraid that I would wake up suddenly and find myself in Buckingham Street, listening to Mrs. Crupp jingling for breakfast.But Dora sang, and the others sang, and Miss Mills sang, and Miss Mills sang the echoes of her memory, as if she had lived a hundred years.And so night fell, and we made and drank tea like gypsies, and I was as happy as before. The party is over.The others, as well as the red beard, all went in different ways, and we also took advantage of the quiet night to walk home in the darkened afterglow, surrounded by bursts of fragrance.At this time, I am happier.After drinking champagne, Mr. Spinlow fell asleep a little. He saluted the land that grows grapes, the grapes that can be used as raw materials for wine, the sun that makes grapes ripen, and the people who make and sell wine. present!Then, he fell asleep in a corner of the carriage.So I rode on horse and cart and was able to talk to Dora.She complimented my horse and patted it—oh, what a lovely little hand on the horse's back!Her shawl was disobedient, and I stretched out my hand to wrap it around her from time to time; I even fancied that Kip had realized what was going on, that he knew that he could only be friends with me. And that virtuous Miss Mills, the weary yet benevolent hermit, the world-weary little nun determined not to awaken the echoes sleeping in the depths of her memory—though she was only about twenty—she What a merciful thing to do! "Mr. Copperfield," said Miss Mills, "come over to this side of the car—if you will be accommodating. I have a few words to say to you." Look at me like that! — I sat on the gray horse, leaned over to Miss Mills with my hand on the door. "Dora wants me to live with me. She's coming home with me the day after tomorrow. If you'll come and visit, I'm sure my father will be very glad to see you." What else can I do but silently bless Miss Mills, save Mills' address in the safest corner of my memory!What else could I do but show gratitude and tell Miss Mills in the warmest terms how grateful I am for her fulfillment, how much I value her friendship? Miss Mills then kindly dismissed me, "Go back to Dora!" said she; and so I went.Dora leaned out of the car to talk to me, and we talked non-stop.I drove my fine gray horse so close to the wheel that a piece of skin was scraped off one of its forelegs, which, as its owner told me, was 'worth three pounds seven shillings'.I paid for it.With so much happiness exchanged for this money, I think it is too cheap and cost-effective.And during that time, Miss Mills was looking at the moon and reciting poems. I guess she was still wondering how much time she had with this world of mortals. Norwood was too close at once, and we got there too soon.But Mr. Spenlow woke up before he got there, and said, "You must come in, Copperfield, and rest!" I agreed.We ate sandwiches and drank ale.In the bright house, Dora's face was so red and so lovely that I couldn't go away, but just sat and watched, and I didn't fully realize that it was time to say goodbye until I heard Mr. Spenlow's snoring .So we parted.I felt the tenderness of saying goodbye to Dora all the way, recalling every bit and every word a thousand times, and so rode back to London.When I finally lay down in bed, I was a little fool whose love had robbed me of my sanity. Waking up the next morning, I resolved to declare my love to Dora, and find out what my fate was.A blessing or a curse, that was the question at the time.I don't know if there are other questions in the world, but only Dora can answer this question.I took pleasure in this trouble, and spent three days in it, giving everything that happened between me and Dora the worst misfortune I could think of.In the end, I was not afraid to spend money to dress up, and went to Miss Mills' house with the intention of proposing. How many times have I driven up and down the street, and round the square, and been agonizingly guessing which answer would be the best to that old question, before I finally resolved to go up the steps and knock at the door; but now It's nothing.Even when I stood waiting at the door after the knock, there was a moment when I wondered if I should do what poor Baggs did, and ask if this was Mr. Blebow's, and apologize, and turn around.But I finally did not retreat. Mr. Mills is not at home.I don't expect him to be home.Nobody needs him.Miss Mills is at home.Miss Mills is enough. I was shown upstairs to a room where Miss Mills and Dora were.Jeep is there too.Miss Mills was copying the music, a new song, I remember, called "Elegy for Love," and Dora was drawing flowers.What were my feelings when I recognized that it was my flower (I had it from Covent Garden)!I can't say that the flowers were realistic, or particularly like any flowers I'd seen, but I knew what she was drawing from the wrapping paper, which was drawn correctly. Miss Mills was delighted to see me, and regretted her father's absence; but I am sure none of us cared much.After socializing for a few minutes, Miss Mills put her pen down on "Elegy for Love," and got up and left the room. I started thinking, I'll have to put that off until tomorrow. "I hope your poor horse won't be too tired when he comes home at night," said Dora, raising her pretty eyes. "It's a long way for him." I started thinking, I'm going to bring it up today. "That's a long way for him," I said, "because there's nothing to support him along the way." "Poor thing, hasn't it been fed?" asked Dora. I started thinking, I'm going to put this off until tomorrow. “嘿——嘿嘿，”我说道，“它被很好地照料着呀。我的意思是，它享受不到我由于那么挨近你而有的那种难于言表的幸福呀！ 朵拉把头俯在她的图画上，停了一会儿。在她开口说话前，我一直像火一样热，两腿发僵，坐在那里动不得。 “那一天有一段时间，你却并不像感受到了那幸福呀。” 我知道我已无处可逃，必须就地解决那问题。 “你坐在吉特小姐身边时，”朵拉稍稍抬起眉毛摇摇头说道，“你也一点不在乎那幸福呀。” 我得说明，吉特就是那个穿红衣的小眼睛的名字。 “当然，我不知道，可你为什么要那样呢？”朵拉说道，“或者为什么你要把那称作幸福？不过，你肯定是口是心非；我相信，也没人怀疑，你有随意做任何事的自由。吉普，你这淘气包，到这儿来！” 我不知道我是怎么做的，反正我就这么干了——我挡住吉普，把朵拉搂到怀里。我一个劲说，一下也没停过。我告诉她我多爱她。我告诉她没有她我准会死。我告诉她我把她当成偶像来崇拜。吉普发疯一样不停地叫。 朵拉低下头哭泣、发抖，这时我的口才越发好了。如果她希望我为她死，只要她把这说出来，我会心甘情愿结束自己。生活中不能没有朵拉。我不能忍受这种生活，我也不愿忍受。从第一次见到她起，日日夜夜的每一分钟我都爱她。我在那一分钟里爱她爱得发了疯。我要每一分钟都爱她爱得发疯。人们过去相爱过，将来也还有人们相爱，但没有任何人可以、能够、情愿并曾经像我这样爱朵拉。我梦话说得越多，吉普也叫得越起劲。我们两个各自按自己的方式在每一分钟都变得比前一分钟更发疯了。 have to!have to!朵拉和我慢慢心平气静地在沙发上坐下了，吉普也躺在她膝盖上平静地对我眨着眼了。我心醉神迷。我如痴如狂。朵拉和我订了婚。 我想，我们是有过以结婚来结尾的想法。我们一定有过，因为朵拉提出：没有她爸爸同意，我们决不能结婚。但陶醉中年轻的我们一定不曾周密思量过，也傻头傻脑地不知道还有什么别的。我们得对斯宾罗先生保密；不过，我相信当时我也压根不认为这样做是什么可耻的秘密。 朵拉去找米尔斯小姐，并把她带回来。这时，米尔斯小姐比先前更沉默了；我怕是因为刚才发生的事很可能将她记忆深处沉睡的回声唤醒了。不过，她为我们祝福，对我们保证，她永远是我们的朋友。她和我们说话时，那声音好像来自修道院里。 这一段时间多么自在多么空泛、快乐又多么冒着傻气的一段时间。 在这时间里，我在量朵拉的手指，准备去做勿忘花纹样的戒指；在这时间里，我正把尺寸交给珠宝商，他在订货单上看到那尺寸后就取笑我，为了这个镶蓝宝石的可爱的小饰物讨价还价。这戒指在我的记忆里和朵拉的手那么紧密地联系在一起，昨天我在女儿的手指上无意看见另外的那一只时，我心中瞬间感到痛楚！ 在这时间里，我为拥有这秘密好不得意，好不满足，好不快活，从而到处走来走去。我为爱朵拉和被朵拉所爱而感到如此自豪，就算我上过天，我也从没像那会儿那样觉得自己比凡夫俗子更了不起！ 在这时间里，我们在方场的花园里相会，坐在凉亭的暗处，我们是那么快乐以至我到现在还不为别的任何原因而对伦敦的麻雀十分喜爱，从它们烟灰色的羽毛里竟能看出热带的缤纷来！ 在这时间里，我们第一次发生了一生中的大争吵，那还是我们订婚后不到一个星期；在这时间里，朵拉把戒指还给我，还附上一张叠成三角形的令人绝望的短信；她可怕地写道，“我们的爱情在胡闹中开始，在疯狂中结束？”这几个可怕的字使我扯着自己头发，为一切已成为过去而痛哭不已！ 在这时间里，在黑夜的掩护下，我跑去找米尔斯小姐，和她偷偷在放有轧布机的后厨房里相见，恳求她在我们之间调停并把这叫人发疯的局面挽回过来。在这时间里，米尔斯小姐担起这使命，把朵拉带来，她从用她苦涩的青春垒起的讲坛上规劝我们相互让步，不要走入撒哈拉沙漠！ 在这时间里，我们哭了起来，和好了，又那么幸福了，那个放有轧布机的后厨房成了爱神为自己专设的圣殿；我们在那里约定了，将由米尔斯小姐转交信件，每天每人至少写出一封信。 多么自在的一段时间！多么空泛、快乐而又冒着傻气的一段时间！我一生的时间都在时光老人支配下，但没有其它的时间在我回忆起时能让我微笑着回想起那些时光的一多半。能够让我有那么一半的热情去回想，去品味！