Chapter 13 four, five, six

Four The next day I saw Gray and Isabel and told them I met Larry.They were as surprised as I was yesterday. "It was good to see him," said Isabel. "Let us go and see him at once." I just remembered that I forgot to ask where he lived.Isabelle gave me a hard time. "Even if I ask him, I'm afraid he won't tell me," I protested, laughing. "It probably has something to do with my subconscious mind. You remember he never liked telling people where he lived. It was one of his quirks. He could walk in anytime." "That's what he is," Gray said. "Even in the past, you couldn't be sure you'd find him where you expected. He's here today, but he's gone tomorrow. You obviously saw him in the room and wanted to go over and greet him later, but, When you turned around, he was gone."

"He's been a most annoying fellow," said Isabel. "There's no denying that. It seems we'll just have to wait for him to come when he's happy." He didn't come that day, he didn't come the next day, and he didn't come the third day.Isabel insisted that I made it up to make them angry.I assured her no, and thought of some reason why he wouldn't come.However, these reasons do not make much sense.I wondered to myself whether he had reconsidered his decision not to see Gray and Isabelle, and had left Paris to wander somewhere else.I already felt that he was never rooted anywhere, that he would lift his feet and walk away whenever he had a reason he thought was good, or his own whim.

He's here at last.It was a rainy day, and Gray didn't play in Mautfontaine.We were all three together, Isabel and I having tea, and Gray sipping a glass of whiskey and Berrier; at this moment the butler opened the door and Larry strolled in.With a cry, Isabel stood up immediately, threw herself into his arms, and kissed him on both cheeks.Gray's chubby red face was redder than usual, and he took his hand enthusiastically. "Hey, nice to see you, Larry," he said, his voice a little choked with excitement. Isabelle bit her lip and saw that she was trying not to cry. "Have a drink, man," Gray said waddlingly.

I was deeply moved by the two people seeing the homeless man so happy.It must have been good for Larry to see himself so much in their hearts, and he smiled happily.However, it seems to me that he is still very calm.He noticed the tea set on the table. "I'll have a cup of tea," he said. "Hush, you don't want tea," Gray called out. "Let's pop a bottle of champagne." "I like tea," Larry said with a smile. His composure had an effect on the couple that he might have intended.Both of them calmed down, but still looked at him with joyful eyes.I do not mean by this to say that he responded to genuine enthusiasm with cold rigidity; on the contrary, he was very polite and lovable; but there was something in his brow that could only be called detachment. style, and don't know what that means.

"Why don't you come and see us right away, you ghost?" cried Isabel, pretending to be angry. "For the past five days, I have been looking out the window to see if you are coming, and every time the doorbell rings, my heart will jump into my mouth, and it takes a lot of effort to swallow it." Larry chuckled. "Mr. Maugham told me that I looked too savage, and your servants would not let me in. I flew to London to buy some clothes." "You don't have to go to London to buy them," I said, laughing. "You can buy a ready-made set at Chunguang Department Store or Meiliyuan."

"I figured if clothes were to be made, they'd be decent. I haven't bought Western clothes in ten years. I went to your tailor's and said I would have a suit made in three days.He said it would take two weeks, so he compromised and changed it to four days.I came back from London an hour ago. " He wore a navy blue serge suit that suited his slender figure very well, a white shirt with a soft collar, a blue tie and a pair of yellow leather shoes.His hair had been cut short, and his beard had been shaved.He looked not only neat, but clean-haired; he was a different man; his cheekbones were more pronounced, his temples more sunken, his eyes more sunken in their sockets than I remembered, as he was so thin. Even so, he was handsome; indeed, his tanned, unlined face made him look strangely young.He was a year younger than Gray, both of them in their thirties, but Gray looked ten years older and Larry ten years younger.Gray's movements were slow and sluggish because of his stature, while Larry's movements were brisk and casual.Larry looked like a child, happy and happy, but at the same time, there was a kind of tranquility that I felt especially different from the young man I used to know.The conversation went on and on, which is natural among old friends, since so many memories are common; Gray and Isabel also threw in bits and pieces of Chicago news, bits and pieces, from one day to the next. One thing begets another, causing light laughter.When they talked and laughed like this, I always got the impression that Larry, although he was smiling broadly and showing obvious pleasure in hearing Isabel's casual babbling, had a very special air of ease.I don't think he's cheating, he's very natural and never fakes, and his sincerity can be seen at a glance; I just think there's something inside him, I don't know if it's called perception, sensibility, or power, It made him feel a little out of place and out of touch all the time.

The two girls were brought in by the nurse, met with Larry, and curtseyed politely.Larry held out his hand and looked at them with touching kindness in his soft eyes; the children held his hand and looked at him solemnly.Isabel happily told Larry that they had done well in their studies, gave them each a slice of biscuit, and sent them away. "When you are sleeping, I will read you a storybook for ten minutes." She didn't want to disturb her pleasure in seeing Larry at this moment.The girl went to say good night to her father.It was touching to see the love on the red face of the big man as he held the children in his arms and kissed them.One could see how fond and proud he was of them; and when they were gone he turned to Larry and said with a sweet smile on his lips: "Two children, aren't they?"

Isabelle gave him an affectionate glance. "Gray will spoil them if I leave him alone. He's going to starve me to death, the big bad guy, and feed two kids caviar and liver pate." He looked at her with a smile and said, "You are lying, and you know you are lying. I admire you so much." There was also a smile in Isabel's eyes, which was an answer.She knew that, and was happy about it.What a happy couple. She insisted that we stay for dinner.I figured they'd probably like to be alone with Larry, so they said something was up, but Isabel wouldn't listen.

"I'll go and tell Mary to put an extra carrot in the soup, and it'll feed four. There's a chick, you and Gray can have legs, and Larry and I have wings; she can always make a soufflé Enough to feed the four of us." Gray seemed to want me to stay; I didn't want to go, so I obeyed their dissuasion. While waiting for supper, Isabel recounted in detail what had happened to them, which I had briefly told Larry.Although she tried to speak lightly as she narrated her ordeal, Gray's face was sullen and distressed.She tried to cheer him up a little. "It's all over now, anyway. We fell, but we've got a future ahead of us. When things get better, Gray's going to get a good job and make a fortune."

Cocktails were brought in, and two glasses were downed to brighten the poor man's spirits.I saw that Larry took a drink but barely touched it; Gray didn't notice, and when offered him another, he refused.We washed our hands and sat down to dinner.Gray had a bottle of champagne opened, but when the butler poured it for Larry, he told the butler that he didn't drink. "Well, but you must drink something," cried Isabel. "It's Uncle Elliot's best drink, and he only drinks it for special guests." "To tell you the truth, I still like to drink water. After staying in the East for so many years, being able to drink clean water is already a blessing."

"It's a celebration." "Okay, I'll have a drink." The supper was well cooked, but, Isabel noticed, and I noticed, Larry ate very little.Probably she suddenly remembered that she had been talking all the time, and Larry had almost no chance to say anything except to listen attentively, so now she began to ask Larry what he had done in the past ten years since the last time we met.He answered with sincerity and candor, but, in so vague a way, he told us nothing. "Oh, I'm shaking my shoulders, you know. I spent a year in Germany and a few years in Spain and Italy. I ran around in the east for a while. " "Where did you just come from?" "From India.". "How long have you been in India?" "Five years." "Have you had a good time?" Gray asked. "Did you catch the tiger?" "No," Larry laughed. "What are you doing, five years in India?" said Isabel. "Playing around," he replied, holding back his laughter. "What about that rope trick?" Gray asked. "Have you seen it?" "No, I didn't see it." "What do you see?" "Many things." I just asked him a question. "It is said that yogis [Note] have what we believe to be magical powers. Is it true?" "I don't know. All I can tell you is that India generally thinks so. But the most intelligent people don't think these abilities are so great; they think they only get in the way of cultivation. I remember one of them telling me , a yogi came to the river, there was no money to cross the river, and the ferryman refused to take him for nothing, so he walked to the river and stepped on the water to reach the other bank. The yogi who told me this shrugged rather contemptuously. Shoulder said, 'Such a miracle is worth a penny across the river.'” "But do you think a yogi can really walk on water?" Gray asked. "The yogi who told me clearly believed it." Listening to Larry speak is very pleasant, because his voice is very pleasant, crisp, round but not deep, with a special cadence.After dinner, everyone went back to the living room for coffee.I have never been to India and am eager to know more. "Have you had any contact with writers and thinkers?" I asked. "I see you treat them as two different kinds of people," Isabel teased me. "I'm determined to reach them," Larry replied. "How did you talk to them? In English?" "The most interesting of them, even if they can speak English, they can't speak it very well, and their understanding is even worse. I learned Hindustan. Then I went to the south and learned a lot of Tamil, so I was quite confused. go down." "Larry, how many languages ​​do you know now?" "Oh, I don't know. About half a dozen." "I also want to know a little more about the yogis," Isabel said. "Are you familiar with any of them?" "Couldn't be more familiar," he said with a smile. "I lived for two years in Asirama with a yogi." "Two years? What is Asirama?" "Ah, I suppose you might as well call it a hermitage. Some saints always live alone, or in temples, or in woods, or on the slopes of the Himalayas. And some yogis attract disciples In order to accumulate merits, some charitable people build a house for him to live in; the house is big or small, and those disciples live with him, or live on the balcony, or live in the yogi. In the kitchen, if there is a kitchen, or under a tree. I have a little house here in the jungle, just big enough for my camp bed, table and chairs, and bookshelves.' "Where is this place? "I asked. "In Travancore, it's a beautiful country, green valleys, gentle rivers. There are tigers, leopards, elephants and bison on the hills, but that Asirama is on the lagoon, surrounded by There are coconut palms and pina palm trees. It is three or four miles from the nearest town, but people often come from that or more to hear this yogi on foot or in ox carts; When he is happy to speak, and when he is not preaching, sit at his feet, in the air of tuberose, and enjoy together the tranquility and well-being emanating from his deeds." Gray squirmed restlessly in his chair.I guess the content of the conversation made him feel badly. "Would you like a drink?" he asked me. "No, thank you." "Well, I'll have a drink. How are you, Isabel?" He moved his heavy body out of the chair and went to the stand where the whiskey and Berry egyptian stood. "Are there any other white people there?" "No, I'm the only one." "How did you stay for two years?" cried Isabel. "It's like a blink of an eye. Some of my past days seem to last a lot longer than these two years." "What have you been doing for the past two years?" "Read. Take a walk, a long walk. Take a boat ride up the lagoon. Meditate. Meditate very hard; after two or three hours, you're as exhausted as a five-hundred-mile drive." , I just want to rest in the future, and I don’t want to do anything.” Isabel frowned slightly.She was bewildered, and dare I say a little frightened.Possibly she was beginning to feel that this Larry who had come into the room a few hours earlier, though unchanged in appearance and just as cheerful and affectionate as ever, was very open, easy, kind, like the Larry she had known in the past. , stubbornly refusing to listen to her but likable Larry is not alone.She had lost him, and now she saw him again, she thought he was still the old Larry, no matter how the world changed, he was still hers; now, she seemed to be holding a ray of sunlight in her hand, and the light was coming from her. It slipped between clenched fingers; it puzzled her a little.I was always looking at her that night, and it was a pleasure to me; I saw her eyes fall on Larry's neatly trimmed head, where the little ears were pressed to the skull, and there was something in her eyes. And how the look of his eyes changed when she noticed his sunken cups and thin cheeks.She looked at his long and thin hands, although they looked haggard, they were still strong and powerful.Then her eyes rested on his expressive mouth, well-shaped, full but sensual; on his broad brow and straight nose. His new suit did not wear Elliott's elegance, but it came off as easily as if he had worn it for a year, and every day, every day.He seemed to have aroused in Isabel a maternal instinct which I had not seen between Isabel and her daughter.She was an experienced woman; and he looked only a boy; I seemed to detect a kind of maternal pride in her expression, because my own grown child can talk freely, and everyone else is listening, thinking that he The words make sense.I don't believe the meaning of Larry's words hit her heart. However, I haven't finished my question yet. "What does your yogi look like?" "You mean appearance, don't you? Well, he's not tall, he's not thin, he's not fat, he's dark brown, he's clean-shaven, and his white hair is neatly cropped. Except for a loincloth , wearing nothing, and yet make one look as well-groomed as the men in the Brooks Brothers adverts." "Then what is it about him that catches your fancy?" Larry stared at me intently for a full minute before answering.His sunken eyes seemed to be trying to penetrate the depths of my soul. "The breath of a saint." His answer made me slightly uneasy.In a room with beautiful furnishings and famous paintings on the walls, the words were like a bathtub overflowing from the ceiling. "We all read about saints. St. Francis, St. John of the Cross, but that was hundreds of years ago. I never thought I'd meet a living saint today. From the first time I saw him, I had no doubt that he was a saint. It was an amazing experience." "And what did you get?" "Tranquility," he replied casually, with a faint smile.Then he stood up suddenly and said, "I have to go." "Oh, wait, Larry," Isabel called. "It's still early." "Good night," he said, still smiling, ignoring her entreaties.He kissed her cheek. " I'll see you again in a day or two. " "Where do you live? I'll come and see you." "Oh, don't bother with that. You know how hard it is to make a phone call in Paris, and ours is always out of order." It amused me to see Larry so blatantly refusing to give out his address.It was a quirk of his that he always concealed his address.I propose to treat them all to dinner at the Bolon Gardens the evening after tomorrow.Sitting out and eating under a tree in the open air on such a heady spring day is a delight, and Gray can drive us there in his car.I left with Larry, and I would have liked to have walked a little way with him, but once we got out into the street he shook hands with me and strode off.I got into a taxi. Fives We agreed to meet at the apartment for a cocktail before heading out.I got there before Larry.I took them to a fancy restaurant, and I always expected Isabelle to be in a dress; there are so many women all dressed up, I'm sure she wouldn't want to be outmatched.However, she only wore a plain woolen jacket. "Grey has another headache," she said. "He's very upset. I can't leave him. I told the cook to go after I've given the boys supper, so I'll have to cook something for Gray myself, and persuade him to eat. You and Larry go alone." "Is Gray in bed?" "No, he never stays in bed when he has a headache. God knows he'd better be asleep, but he won't. He's in the study." It was a small room with brown and gold wainscoting which Elliott had brought from an old castle. The books were guarded by gilt lattices and locked to prevent people from flipping through them; perhaps that was a good thing, since they were mostly eighteenth-century illustrated obscenities; but, bound in modern Moroccan leather, look It's really beautiful upside down.Isabel took me into the study.Gray sat hunched over in a large leather chair, next to illustrated posters scattered on the floor.He closed his eyes, his formerly red face turned dead gray, obviously in great pain.He was about to stand up, but I stopped him. "Did you give him aspirin?" I asked Isabel. "Aspirin doesn't work. I have an American formula, but it doesn't work." "Oh; leave me alone, dear," said Gray. "I'll be fine tomorrow." He forced a smile. "I'm sorry to be a burden to you." He said to me. "You all go to the Bronn Gardens." "Don't talk about it," said Isabel. "Do you think I'm going to have fun knowing you're afflicted with this ghost disease?" "The devil, I think he's in love with me," said Gray, closing his eyes. Then suddenly his face twitches, and you can almost feel the pain in his head like a knife.The door opened slightly and Larry walked in.Isabel told him the situation. "Too bad," he said, giving Gray a sympathetic look. "Is there any way to make him feel better?" "No," said Gray, eyes still closed. "All you can do is leave me alone, everyone; get out of here and have fun." This, I thought, was really the only reasonable course of action, but Isabel feared that her conscience would not help her. "Let me see if I can help you," Larry said. "Nobody can help me," Gray said feebly. "This disease is killing me, and sometimes I wish God would do it." "I was wrong when I said maybe I could help you. I meant maybe I could help you help yourself." Gray slowly opened his eyes and looked at Larry. "How can you help?" Larry took what looked like a silver coin from his pocket and put it in Gray's hand. "Hold tight with your hands, palms down. Don't resist me. Don't push hard, just hold the silver in your hands. Before I can count to twenty, your hands will be open and the silver coins will fall to the ground. " Gray did as he was told.Larry sat down at his desk and began to count.Isabelle and I stood the whole time.one two three four.Gray's hand didn't move when I counted to fifteen, but then it seemed to tremble, and I had the impression, I hardly saw it, of the loosening of the constricted fingers.Thumbs away from fist.I could clearly see my fingers trembling.When Larry counted to nineteen, the silver coin fell from Gray's hand and rolled to my feet.I pick it up and have a look.The silver coin was heavy and irregularly shaped, and on one side was vividly engraved the head of a young man whom I recognized as Alexander the Great.Gray stared blankly at his hands. "I didn't let the silver go down," Gray said. "It fell by itself." He sat in a leather chair with his right arm resting on the armrest. "Are you comfortable in this chair?" Larry asked. "Sitting here is the most comfortable when I have a headache." "Then, you're completely relaxed. Don't be nervous. Don't do anything. Don't resist. Before I count to twenty, your right hand will be lifted from the armrest of the chair until it's over your head. One, two, three, Four. He counted the numbers in his own silvery inflection; and when he reached nine we saw Gray's hand rise from the leather of the rest, barely visible at first, then about an inch high. scene.After a while it stopped again. "Ten, eleven, twelve." There was a vibration in the hand, and then the whole arm began to move upward.The arm no longer rests on the chair.Isabelle was a little scared and grabbed my hand.The situation is really strange.Nothing like a voluntary act.I've never seen anyone sleepwalk, but one can imagine sleepwalkers moving about as oddly as Gray's arm movements.It looks like my own will is not the driving force.It is very difficult to raise the arms so slowly and with such symmetry through conscious effort.It gives the impression that some subconscious force beyond the control of the mind is raising the arm; the motion is like a piston moving very slowly up and down in a cylinder. "Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen." The numbers were spoken slowly, slowly, slowly, like a washbasin faucet dripping out of order.Gray's arm was up, up, until it was above his head.When Larry finished the last number, the arms dropped back on the chair rests of their own accord. "I didn't put my arms up," Gray said. "It just couldn't stop it from lifting like that. It lifted itself." Larry smiled slightly. "Never mind. I think it might give you confidence in me. Where's the silver coin?" I gave him the silver coin. "Hold it in your hand." Gray took the silver coin.Larry looked at his watch. "It's thirteen past eight. Within sixty seconds, your eyelids will become so heavy that you will have to close your eyes, and you will fall asleep.You are going to sleep for six minutes.At 8:20, you'll wake up with no headache. " Isabelle and I were silent and looked at Larry.Larry said nothing more; his eyes were fixed on Gray, but they seemed not to look at him, but to look through him, beyond him.The silence that came among us had an eerie feeling, like the silence among the flowers in a garden at nightfall.Suddenly, I felt Isabel's grip on my hand tighten.I show Gray.His eyes were closed, his breathing was regular; he was asleep.The amount of time we stood there seemed endless.I long for a cigarette, but don't want to light one.Larry was motionless, his eyes gazing into the remote distance.Except that his eyes are still open, he can be said to be in a state of numbness.Suddenly, he seemed to relax. His eyes returned to their usual expression. He looks at his watch.Gray's eyes opened as he looked at his watch. "Oh," he said, "I dare say I'm asleep." Then he started.I noticed that the paleness of his face had completely disappeared. "My head doesn't hurt anymore." "Fine," Larry said. "Have a cigarette, and then we'll go out to dinner." "It's a miracle. I think it's wonderful. How did you do it?" "I didn't do it. You did it yourself." Isabel went to change while Gray and I drank cocktails.Although Larry made it clear that he didn't want to bring it up again, Gray was determined to talk about what had just happened.He couldn't figure out what was going on at all. "You know, I don't believe there's anything you can do at all," he said. "I'm at your mercy just because I'm too lazy to argue with you." He went on to describe his own illness, the torment he suffered, and his collapse after the headache passed. He just couldn't figure out how to wake up just now, with the same energy as usual.Isabel came back; wearing a dress I had never seen before; it trailed to the floor, and was probably made of a very thin white muslin called Marocan, with a black border around it. Yarn edge.I can't help feeling that she's going to do us a favor. The Castle of Madrid [Note] was particularly lively that day, and we were all in high spirits.Larry made some funny remarks--I've never heard him talk like that--and made us all laugh.I feel that his intention in doing this is to make us stop thinking about the extraordinary ability he has just shown himself.However, Isabel is a strong-willed woman.When it doesn't interfere with her business, she can follow you, but she will never give up her plan to satisfy her curiosity. After supper, when everyone drank coffee and rum, Isabelle decided that a good meal and that glass of wine and intimate conversation had weakened Larry's defenses, and fixed her bright eyes on him. "Now tell us how you cured Gray." "Didn't you see it yourself," he said, smiling. "Did you learn this stuff in India?" "yes." "He's been tormented by the disease. Do you think it's possible to cut him off?" "I don't know. Maybe." "It's going to change his whole life. How can he hold a decent job when he's sick for forty-eight hours like he's doing now. And he's never going to be happy until he's working again." "You know, I can't do miracles." "But what you did was a miracle. I saw it with my own eyes." "No, it's not a miracle. I just put an idea in Gray's head, and he did the rest himself." He turned to Gray. "what are you doing tomorrow?" "play golf." "I'll come at six o'clock, let's talk together." Then, he smiled at Isabel: "Isabel, I haven't danced with you for ten years. Would you like to try me?" six After this, we saw Larry often.He came to the apartment every day for the next week and shut himself with Gray in the study for half an hour.It seemed that he was trying to dissuade Gray—as he himself said with a smile—from the melancholy that was holding him back, and Gray trusted him with childlike extremes.From Gray's odd conversations, I sensed that Larry was also trying to restore Gray's confidence in himself.About ten days later, Gray's headache returned, and it so happened that Larry was not coming until evening.This time the headache wasn't too severe, but Gray was now so confident in Larry's abnormal abilities that he could cure his headache in a few minutes if he could find Larry.But they didn't know his address Z. Isabel called me to ask, and I didn't know either.When Larry finally came and healed Gray of his headache, Gray asked him where he lived so that he could be found immediately in an emergency.Larry smiled. "Call American Travel and leave a message. I call them every morning." Isabel asked me later why Larry kept his address a secret.He used to be like that until he found out that he was living in a third-class hotel in the Latin Quarter and was doing nothing shady. "I don't understand that at all," I replied. "I can only offer fanciful reasons, which may be entirely fanciful. Perhaps some eccentric instinct of his compelled him to transfer some hidden part of his mind to his perch." "What the hell do you mean?" she asked rather annoyed. "Did you notice that when he was with us, although he was so approachable and amiable, there was always a sense of detachment, as if he didn't reveal all of himself, but kept something in it. Deep within our own soul. What keeps him from us? A pull? A secret? A longing? Some knowledge? I don't know." "I've known Larry since I was a kid," said Isabel impatiently. "Sometimes I think he's like a great actor who plays a part flawlessly in a bad play, like Elena Douce in The Shopkeeper." Isabelle pondered for a moment. "I think I know what you mean. We're having a good time, and feel like he's one of us, like everyone else, and then, all of a sudden, you feel like he's a cigarette you want to hold in your hand." escaped your grasp like a circle. What do you say made him so queer?" "Maybe it's so commonplace that people just don't notice it." "for example?" "For example, nice people." Isabel frowned. "I hope you don't say that. It's not nice to be surprised." "Or is there a little bit of pain deep in the heart?" Isabel stared at me for a long moment, as if considering what I was thinking.She took a cigarette from a side table, lit it, and leaned back in her chair; watching the smoke curl up into the air. "Do you want me to go?" I asked. "No." I didn't speak for a while, just looked at her, admiring the soft lines of her handsome nose and chin. "Don't you love Larry very much?" "You son of a bitch, I've never loved anyone else in my life." "Then why did you marry Gray?" "I've got to marry. Gray was after me like crazy and Ma wanted me to marry him. Everyone said it was right that I broke up with Larry. I liked Gray; I still like him. You don't know how cute he is." .There is no one in the world who can be more gentle and considerate than him. He looks like he has a bad temper, doesn't he? But he is always so gentle with me. When he is rich, he always makes me like this, Love that so he can buy it for me and feel good about it. I said once, how nice it would be if we could go around the world in a sailboat, and if it wasn't for the big crash, he'd buy it." "He sounds too good to be true," I said. "We had a very good life. In that regard, I will always be grateful to him. He made my life very happy." I looked at her, but didn't speak. "I don't think I really love him, but one can live without love. Deep down in my heart, I long for Larry, but as long as I don't see him, it doesn't really bother me." Do you remember you telling me that the pain of love becomes bearable when separated by three thousand miles of ocean? I thought that was an extremely ironic statement, but of course it was true. " "If you see Larry in pain, wouldn't it be wiser not to see him?" "But this misery is heaven! Besides, you know what he is. Any day, he'd disappear like a shadow after sunset, and you wouldn't see him for years." "Did it never occur to you to divorce Gray?" "I have no reason to divorce him." "No reason doesn't stop women in your country from divorcing their husbands." she laughed. "Why do you think they divorced?" "Don't you know? Because American women expect perfection in their husbands, just as English women expect perfection in their butlers." Isabelle threw her head back so proudly that I almost thought she was going to break her neck. "Do you think that Gray is useless when he is not so eloquent?" “你弄错了，”我赶快打断她。“我觉得他有种动人的地方。人非常之多情。 只要看看他望着你时的脸，就知道他对你的情感是多么真挚，多么深。他对自己的孩子比你爱得多。 " “我想你现在要说我是个坏母亲了。” “相反，我觉得你是个很好的母亲。你照顾得她们很周到，很快乐；注意她们的饮食，留心她们大便是否正常；教给她们礼貌，读书给她们听，命她们做祈祷；一有毛病立刻就请医生，而且小心服侍她们。但是，你不象格雷那样，全心全意放在她们身上。” “本来没有必要这样做。我是个人，我把她们也当作人看待。一个做母亲的把儿女当作自己唯一的生命，只会对儿女有害处。” “我认为你很对。” “而且她们照样崇拜我。” “这一点我也留意到了。她们把你看作是她们理想中的一切，文雅、美丽、高贵。但是，她们和你在一起不象和格雷在一起时那样适意和随便。她们崇拜你，这是事实；但是，她们爱格雷。” “他是可爱。” 我很喜欢她这样说。她的性格中一个顶可爱之处就是对赤裸裸的事实从不恼火。 “大崩溃之后，格雷完全垮了。有好多个星期，他在写字间里一直工作到深夜。 我时常在家里坐得胆战心惊；生怕他会自杀，因为他觉得太丢脸了。你知道，那些人过去对公司，对他父亲，对格雷都非常信赖，对他们的正直和判断的正确非常信赖。倒并不完全是因为我们把自己的钱蚀光了，而是因为所有那些信任他的人把钱全蚀光了，使他交代不过去。他觉得自己早就应当看出一点苗头。我没法子说服他认为事情不能怪他。 " 伊莎贝儿从手提包里取出一支口红，涂涂嘴唇。 “但是，我要告诉你的并不是这个。我们剩下的唯一一块财产就是农场；我觉得格雷的唯一机会就是离开当地，所以我把两个孩子交给妈，和格雷上农场去住。 农场他是一直喜欢的，但是，从来没有单独去过；过去总是带上一大堆人，玩得非常痛快。格雷的枪法很好，可是，当时没有心思打猎。他过去时常一个人坐一条船，划到沼泽那边，呆上几点钟头，观察野禽。他时常在小河里划来划去，两边是浅灰色的蒲草，头上只看见蓝天。有些日子，那些小河就象地中海一样蓝。他回来总不大肯说，只说妙极了。可是，我能看出他感受很深。我知道他的心被这种美，这种寥廓，这种幽静打动了。在太阳刚要落山之前，沼地上有这么一会儿光线很是迷人。 他往往站在那里凭眺，心里感到非常受用。他时常骑马到那些孤寂而神秘的林子里跑得老远；那些树林就象梅特林克[注]一出戏剧里的那种树林一样，灰暗、沉寂，简直有点阴森；而且春天有这么一个时候——顶多只有半个月——山茱萸盛开，橡皮树抽叶，嫩绿色的叶子被灰色的西班牙苔藓一衬，就象一首欢乐的歌曲；地上开遍白色的大百合花和野杜鹃，象铺了地毯一样。格雷形容不出自己的感受，但是感受极深。他被妩媚的春光弄得浑陶陶的。啊，我知道我讲得不好，可是我没法告诉你，看见这样一个大块头被这样纯洁、这样美的感受提到这样高的境界，叫人简直要哭出来。如果天上有个上帝的话，那么格雷是非常接近上帝的。 " 伊莎贝儿告诉我这段话时，人有点儿动心，所以掏出一块小手绢，小心地把眼角两边的晶莹眼泪揩掉。 “你在制造幻想，是不是？”我微笑说。“我觉得你在把你指望格雷具有的思想和情感说成是真事。” “如果他没有，我怎么能看到呢？你知道，我是怎样的人。我除非感觉到人行道上脚底下的水泥，和沿街商店大橱窗里有帽子、皮大衣、钻石手镯和镶金的化妆用品盘可看，就不觉得真正快乐。” 我笑了；有这么一会，双方都没有开口。后来，她回到我们先前谈的话题上来。 “我决不会和格雷离婚。我们共同经历的事情太多了。而且他是绝对离开不了我的。这使人相当得意，你知道，也使人产生一种责任感。再者…。 “再者什么？” 她斜瞥了我一眼，眼睛里闪出一种调皮的神情。我认为，她拿不准我对她打算讲的话抱什么态度。 “他在床第之间很不错。我们结婚已经有十年，可是他还是和开头一样对我那么热火。你在你的一个剧本里不是说过，一个男子对一个女子不会爱到五年以上的？ 哼，当时你只是胡说八道。格雷就跟我们刚结婚时一样爱我。在这方面，他使我很快乐。不过单看我的样子，你不会想到我是那样的人。我是个很风骚的女人。 " “你完全错了，我会这样想的。” “那么，这并没有什么要不得的地方，对不对？” “恰恰相反。”我仔细看了她一眼。“你可懊悔十年前没有和拉里结婚吗？” “不。当时如果和他结婚，那简直是发疯。不过，当然喽，当时如果我象现在这样懂得，我就会溜走和他住上三个月，然后，把他从我的生活中排除出去，一了百了。” “你没有做这样的试验，恐怕算你的运气；你说不定会发现自己没法摆脱掉他。” “我不相信。这不过是一种肉体的诱惑。你知道，克服肉体欲望的最好办法往往就是让它得到满足。” “你可曾想到过你是一个占有欲很强的女人？你告诉过我，格雷的情感有深刻的诗意，你又告诉我，他是个热烈的情人；我深信这两者对你都极其重要；但是，你没有告诉我比这两者加在一起还要重要得多的是什么——那就是把他抓在你那美丽但并不太小的手掌心里的感觉。拉里将永远逃脱你的掌握。你可记得济慈[注]的《希腊古瓮颂》？'大胆的情人，你永远，永远不能吻到，虽则逐渐接近目标。'” “你往往自命你懂得的比你知道的多，”她说，话有点尖刻。“一个女子只有一个法子能抓住男人，你而且知道的。让我再告诉你一点：她要抓住男人不在乎第一次和他睡觉，而是看第二次。如果一个女子抓住了一个男人，那么，就此永远抓住他了。” “你这话可以说是探骊得珠。” “我到处跑，眼睛和耳朵又没有闲住。” ※ ※ ※ ※ ※我有半晌没有开口；心里在盘算。 过了一会，我说道，“我不知道拉里过去是不是真正爱你。” 她坐起来；脸色有点变，眼睛含怒。 “你讲的什么？他当然爱我。你认为一个女孩子碰到有人爱她都不知道吗？” “噢，我敢说他在一定程度上是爱你的。他认识的女孩子里没有一个象你这样接近的。你们从小就在一起玩。他指望自己爱你。他有正常的性欲本能。你们应当结婚是非常自然的事情。你们除掉住在一起，睡在一起外，相互的关系并没有任何特殊不同。” 伊莎贝儿气平了一点下来，等着我继续说下去；我知道女子总是喜欢人谈论爱情，所以接着说道：“道德家总想说服我们，把性的本能和爱情看作是两码子事。他们总倾向于把性说成是一种附带现象。” “附带现象，这放的什么屁？” “有些心理学家是这样看的，认为意识是伴随脑的活动出现的，并且由脑活动决定，但是意识对脑的活动并不产生任何影响。意识就象水里的树影，离开树不能存在，但是对树丝毫没有影响。有人说，没有热情也可以有爱，我认为是胡说；他们说热情没有了，爱仍旧可以存在，他们指的是另外一种东西，感情，好心，共同的爱好，兴趣，和习惯。特别是习惯。两个人可以由于习惯继续发生性关系，就象到了吃饭的时候肚子觉得饿一样。当然，人可以有欲望而没有爱。欲望并不是热情。 欲望是性的本能的天然结果，它比人这个动物的其他功能并不更重要些。所以有些做丈夫的在时间地点适合时偶尔放纵一下，他们的妻子那样大惊小怪，实在愚蠢。 " “这难道专指男人吗？” I laughed. “你一定要问的话，我得承认对两者都适用。唯一不同的是，对一个男子来说，这种露水关系毫无情感价值，对一个女子来说就不同了。” “那要看是什么样的女人。” 我不预备让她打断我的话。 “爱没有情欲，就不是爱，而是别的东西；而且情欲并不是由于满足而是由于阻挠变得强烈的。你想济慈告诉他的希腊古瓮上的情人不要难受是什么意思？'你将永远爱着，而她将永远美好！'为什么？因为她是得不到手的；不管这情人怎么疯狂地追求，她仍旧逃脱他的掌握。原因是他们被拘禁在我所谓的一件无情艺术品的大理石上面。你对拉里的爱，和拉里对你的爱，就和保罗与法郎赛斯加的爱情[注]，和罗米欧与朱丽叶的爱情，一样单纯和自然。所幸是，你们没有碰上一个悲惨的结局。你和一个有钱的人结了婚，拉里则云游世界，想弄清妖女唱的是什么歌[注]。 情欲在这里没有起过作用。 " "How did you know?" “情欲是不计代价的。巴斯噶[注]说感情有其为理智所不理解的理由。如果他的意思是我设想的那样，那就是指情欲控制着感情的时候，感情就会发明一些不但言之成理的理由，而且可以充分证明世界在爱的面前可以为了爱完全毁掉。它使你相信牺牲荣誉是值得的而蒙耻受辱是便宜事情。情欲是毁灭性的。它毁掉安东尼和克里娥彼特拉[注]，毁掉特雷斯坦和伊苏尔德[注]，毁掉巴奈尔和吉蒂?奥赛[注]。 如果它不毁掉人，它就死掉。到了那时候，一个人才会废然若失，发现自己虚掷了一生的大部分时间，熬受因妒忌引起的剧烈痛苦，蒙辱含垢，忍气吞声，把自己的全部柔情蜜意，自己灵魂的全部财富，都浪费在对方身上，而对方不过是只破鞋，一个蠢货，是自己制造许多梦想的一个借口，连一块橡皮糖都抵不上。 " 我发挥掉这段议论之前，已经满看出伊莎贝儿并不凝神听我，而是一个人在出神。可是，她下面的一句话却使我出乎意料。 “你想拉里是处男吗？” “亲爱的，他已经三十二岁了。” “我肯定他是的。” “你怎么会有这样看法？” “对这种事情女人天生有一种本能。” “我知道有一个年轻人冒充他从来没有和女人睡过觉，把一个个美丽女子都骗了过去，因此混得很不错。他说这就象巫咒一样灵。” “你怎样说我也不管。我是靠直觉知道的。” 天已经快晚了，格雷和伊莎贝儿有朋友约他们吃晚饭，她要换衣服。我无事可做，因此，沿着拉斯拜尔大街一路行来，享受着春天傍晚的愉快气息。我对女人的直觉从来就不大相信；它和她们的主观愿望太适合了，使人对它的可靠性不得不产生怀疑。当我想到和伊莎贝儿的那一大段谈话的末尾，自己不由得笑了出来。这使我想起苏姗?鲁维埃来，我有好几天没有和她见面了。不知道她目前在干些什么。 如果没有什么事，说不定愿意跟我一起吃晚饭，并且去看个电影。我叫住一辆在街上彷徨的汽车，告诉车夫鲁维埃的公寓地址。