Chapter 18 April 8, 1928 (1)

April 8, 1928 (1) The day dawned in the bleak and cold.A moving wall of gray light approached from the northeast. It did not dilute into moisture, but seemed to decompose into tiny moths.The noxious particles that shot slantingly into her flesh like needles when Dilsey opened the cabin door and came out, and then settled down again, not like moisture but like some kind of thinness.An oil star that is not willing to condense.Dilsey wrapped her hood.He also wore a stiff black straw hat, a purple maroon silk dress, and a pair of maroon velvet shoulders. There were also ten dirty and indescribable furs on the shoulders. edging.Dilsey stood at the door for a while, looking up at the rainy sky at her sunken face divided into countless small pieces by wrinkles, and stretched out a withered hand with a soft palm like a fish belly, and then she held the He lifted his shoulders and examined the front of his long skirt carefully.

The long dress hung listlessly from her shoulders, slid over her saggy breasts, and tightened over her protruding midriff.Then it loosened again, and then swelled up slightly. It turned out that she was wearing several pairs of underwear inside.When spring passed and the warm days took on the rich, ripe colors of the harvest, she would take off her panties one by one.She had been a fat, big woman, but now she was all framed, covered loosely with unpadded skin, taut only again over her swollen belly, as if all muscle and tissue had been lost. Like courage and perseverance, it seems that it will be gradually worn away by the years.Up to now, only the indomitable skeleton remains, like a ruin or a milestone, standing half dead.Above the insensitive viscera, the face a little higher made people feel as if the bones had been turned out of the flesh.That face is now looking up to Li Yun flying her sky, the expression on the face is not only resigned, but also has the astonishment of a child when he is disappointed.Finally, she turned around, went back into the house, and closed the door behind her.

The dirt floor next to the door was bare.It has a patina color.As if from the rubbing of bare feet from generation to generation, the same tint was found on the old silver and the hand-plastered walls of the Mexican houses—three pseudomulberry trees for summer shade next to the cottage.The fluffy young leaves—which will later grow as broad and steady as palms—flatten out in the air currents and float together heaving and heaving.A pair of birds came flying from nowhere, circling and flying in the gust of wind like pieces of brightly colored cloth or paper, and finally perched on a mulberry tree. .They screamed against the strong wind, and the strong wind swept away the rustling sound like a piece of cloth or shredded paper.Then three other birds joined in, their tails raised and screaming, and they bumped for a while on the twisted branches.The cabin door opened and Dilsey came out again, this time with a man's fedora buttoned on his back, and an army coat, and under the tattered hem of the coat, the blue plaid Her skirt was bulging, the tattered edges of it fluttering behind her as she crossed the yard and ascended the kitchen steps.

After a while she reappeared, this time with an open umbrella.Holding the umbrella slanted against the wind, she walked across the yard to the woodpile, put down the umbrella, and kept it open.Immediately she threw herself at the umbrella again, grabbed it, held it in her hand, and looked around for a while.Then she gathered the umbrella, put it down, put the firewood one by one in the bent arms, piled it on her chest, and then picked up the umbrella again.With great difficulty, I opened the umbrella and walked back to the steps. While tremblingly balancing to prevent the firewood from falling, I took a lot of effort to close the umbrella.Finally she propped the umbrella in the corner of the door.She let the wood fall into the wood-box behind the stove, then took off her coat and hat, took a dirty apron from the wall, tied it around her, and started the fire.She rattled the grate and crackled the cover.While she was doing this, Mrs. Compson called her from the landing.

Mrs. Compson wore a black satin cotton nightgown, which she pinched tightly under her chin with one hand, and in the other hand held a red rubber hot water bottle.She stood at the top of the back stairs, very regular.Called "Dilsey" without any change.Her voice carried down the stairway like a dry well, which fell into darkness, and then was met with a glimmer of light from a gray window. "Dilsey," she called, with no inflection, no accent, no rush, as if she didn't expect an answer at all. "Dilsey." Dilsey responded.The hands also stopped to fiddle with the stove.But before she could pass through the kitchen, Mrs. Compson called again, and before she could pass in front of the gray light that came in through the window, the dining-room head, the voice came again.

"All right," said Dilsey, "all right, here I come." I'll fill you with hot water as soon as I get it. "She lifted her skirt up the stairs, her bulky figure blocking all the gray light." Put the hot water bottle there and go back to sleep. " "I don't understand what's going on," Mrs. Compson said. "I've been awake and lying in bed for at least an hour without hearing a single sound from the kitchen." "You put it down and go back to sleep with yours," Dilsey said.She struggled up the stairs, panting, her body like a shapeless mass. "I can make life right in one minute, and heat water in two minutes."

"I've been in bed for at least an hour," said Mrs. Compson. "I thought maybe you wouldn't light the fire until I was downstairs." Dilsey came to the landing and took the hot water bottle. "I'm going to rush right away," she said. "Luster overslept this morning, and watched the play until midnight last night. I had to light the fire myself. Go back quickly, or you will wake up everyone before I prepare to clean up the house. " "Since you promised to let Luster play, you'll have to suffer more," said Mrs. Compson. "Jason won't be happy if he finds out. You know he won't be."

"He went to the theater without Jason's money," Dilsey said. "That's not sensible at all." She continued to walk downstairs.Mrs. Compson went into her room.When she was in bed again, she could still hear Dilsey coming downstairs.Her movements were unbearably slow, unbelievable, and it would have been maddening if she hadn't been suddenly drowned out by the crackling of the pantry door. She went into the kitchen, lit the fire, and started preparing breakfast.In the middle of her work, she put down what she was doing, and went to the window to look into her cabin, then she came to the door, opened it, and shouted into the rushing cold air:

"Luster!" she cried, standing still and listening, her face turned away from the limelight, "do you hear that, Luster?" Came out around the corner of the kitchen. "Grandmother?" he said, looking innocent, too innocent for Dilsey to stand motionless for several minutes looking down at him, feeling more than surprised. "Where have you been?" she said. "Nowhere," he said. "It's in the cellar." "What are you doing in the cellar?" she said. "Don't stand in the rain, fool," she said. "I didn't do anything," he said.He walked up the steps.

How dare you enter this door without carrying a pile of firewood! " she said. "I have moved the firewood for you and lit the fire.Didn't I tell you last night not to go out until the box is full of firewood? " "I'm full," said Luster, "I'm really full." "Then where did the chaihe go?" "Then I don't know. I didn't take it." "Hmph, go and fill the box for me now," she said, "and go upstairs and look after Benji when it's full." "She closed the door. Luster walked to the woodpile. The five birds circled over the house. Screaming, and then perched on the mulberry wood. He looked at them. He picked up a stone and threw it. "Hell," he said, "go back to where you came from. It's not Monday yet."

He carried a large pile of firewood as high as the mountain.He couldn't see the road ahead, and he stumbled towards the steps.Stepping up the steps, fluff banged against the door, and the firewood fell one by one, when Dilsey came to open the door for him, and he stumbled through the kitchen. "You, Luster!" she cried, but he had thrown all the firewood into the box with a thunderous crash. "Hi!" he said. "Are you trying to wake up the whole house or something?" Dilsey said.She gave him a slap on the back of the head. "Go upstairs and get Benji dressed." "All right, sir," he said.He walked towards the door that led to the courtyard. "Where are you going?" Dilsey said. "I think it's better to go around to the front of the house and go in through the door, so as not to wake Miss Caroline and the others." "You listen to me, take the back stairs and go up and get Benji dressed," Dilsey said. "Okay, let's go." "All right, you," said Luster.He turned back and went out through the door leading to the dining room.After a while.The door didn't shake anymore.Di Liangxi started making biscuits.While shaking the sieve back and forth on the kneading board, she began to sing, humming in a low voice at first, without a fixed tune or lyrics, it was a repetitive, sad, sad, and simple song. At this time, the fine flour Like snowflakes, they are sprinkled on the chopping board one after another.The stove had warmed the room somewhat and filled the kitchen with the murmur of the flames.After a while her singing grew louder, as if her voice had been thawed by the heat, when Mrs. Compson called her again from the house.Dilsey looked up, as if her gaze could and did penetrate the wall and ceiling, and saw the old lady in the padded nightgown standing at the foot of the stairs, calling her name mechanically. "Oh, my God," Dilsey said.She put down the sieve, lifted the hem of her apron to wipe her hands, picked up the hot water bottle she had put there just now from the chair, and wrapped her apron around the handle of the kettle, the kettle was already emitting a little steam, and it would be a while, " She cried out, "The water is just a little hot now. " Mrs. Compson didn't want a hot water bottle this time, though.Dilsey pinched the neck of the hot water bottle like a dead chicken, and went to the stairs to look up. "Luster isn't upstairs in his room?" she said. "Luster never entered the building. I've been lying in bed waiting for his footsteps. I know he'll be late, but I hope he won't be too late before Benjamin wakes Jason up. Jason only sleeps in one day a week." "You stand in the balcony early in the morning and yell this and that, so you're not afraid of waking people up?" Dilsey said.She began to climb upstairs with difficulty. "I sent the boy upstairs half an hour ago." Mrs. Compson watched her, holding the collar of her nightgown with one hand under her chin. "What are you doing now?" she said. "Get Benji dressed and take him down to the kitchen where he won't bother Jason and Quentin," Dilsey said. "Have you not made breakfast yet?" "I'll do it as I go," Dilsey said. "You'd better go back to bed and wait for Luth to light your fire. It's cold this morning." "I know," said Mrs. Compson, "I have frozen feet. That's what kept me awake." She watched Dilsey go upstairs, which took her time. "You know Jason gets mad if breakfast is late," Mrs. Compson said. "I can't do two things at the same time," Dilsey said. "Go back to bed, or you're going to give me trouble again." "If you're leaving everything else to get dressed for Benjamin, let me come downstairs and make breakfast. You know what happens to Jason if he's late for breakfast." "Who's going to eat what you make?" Dilsey said. "Tell me."Go back," she said, struggling up. Mrs. Compson was still standing there, watching Dilsey, holding on to the wall with one hand, and lifting up her skirt with the other. "Do you have to wake him up just to dress him?" she said. Dilsey stopped.She rested one foot on the first step of the stairs and leaned on the wall with her hand. The big blurred figure was motionless, blocking the gray light coming in from the window behind her. "So he's still awake?" she said. "I was just looking at the door, and he's not awake," said Mrs. Compson. "But he's overslept. He usually wakes up at seven-thirty. You know he never overslept." Dilsey made no reply.She stopped going up. Although Mrs. Compson couldn't see clearly, she only vaguely felt that there was a large flat and round thing in front of her, but he also felt that Dilsey had lowered her face a little, like a head in the rain at this moment. The cow stood like that, still pinching the neck of the empty hot water bottle. "It wasn't you who suffered," Mrs. Compson said. "It's not your responsibility. You can leave. You don't have to carry this burden day after day. You don't owe them anything, and you have no affection for the dead Mr. Compson, and I know you never liked Jason, And you don't even want to cover up." Dilsey didn't say a word.She turned around slowly and walked downstairs, moving down step by step, just like a child, still supporting Zeng with her hands. "Go back and leave him alone," she said. "Don't go into his house again. I'll get Luster up and let the kid come up. For now, leave him alone." She went back to the kitchen.She looked at the fire, then took the apron off her head, put on her overcoat, opened the door to the yard, and looked around the yard.sharp.The pervasive moisture attacked her skin, but there was no living thing in the yard.She crept down the steps, as if afraid of making a noise, and rounded the corner of the kitchen.As she was walking, she suddenly saw Luster coming out of the cellar door in a hurry with a naive expression. Dilsey stopped in her tracks. "Where have you been?" she said. "Nothing," Luster said. "Mr. Jason sent me to look for a leak in the cellar." "When did he tell you?" Dilsey said. "Last year's New Year's Day, wasn't it?" "I figured it would be better to see them when they were asleep," Luster said.Dilsey went to the cellar door.Luster moved out of the way, and she looked down. A smell of wet earth, mold, and rubber came to her in the dark. "Huh," Dilsey said.She looked at the future of Les again.He met her gaze meekly, innocent and open. "I don't know what you're up to in there, but there's nothing you're supposed to do there. They tortured me this morning, and you joined in the fun, didn't you? Go upstairs and wait on Benji, you hear No?" "I hear you, sir," said Luster.He hurried toward the kitchen steps. "Come back," Dilsey said, and give me another stick before you run away. " "All right, you," he said.He passed her on the steps toward the woodpile.A moment later, he stumbled against the door again, the pyramid of firewood blocking his view again, and Dilsey asked him to place an order.Pull him hard and guide him through the kitchen. "How dare you throw it into the box again," she said, "how dare you throw it again!" "I'll have to throw it," said Luster, panting, "I can't get the wood down any other way." "Then hold on and stand a little longer," Dilsey said.She took firewood from his arms one at a time, what happened to you this morning?I will send you to carry firewood, but you will carry no more than six firewood each time.You really save energy today.What else can you ask me for?Isn't that troupe already gone? " "Yes, Grandma. Already gone. She put the last stick of firewood into the box. "Well, now you go upstairs to Benji's as I said," she said. "I don't want to hear someone yelling at me on the landing again until I ring the dinner bell. Do you hear me?" "I hear you, sir," said Luster.He disappeared behind the swing doors.Dilsey added some wood to the stove and went back to the chopping board.After a while, she sang again. The room became warmer.Dilsey walked up and down the kitchen, taking this and that to get things ready for breakfast.After a while, her skin began to glow brightly.Moisturized luster, this looks much better than when she and Luster's skin was covered with a layer of firewood ash.Cupboards wood face the wall.A wall clock was ticking, only visible at night when the lights were on, and even then it had an enigmatic depth because it had only one hand.Now, after a few throat-cough preludes, it struck five times. "What time is it," Dilsey said.She stopped what she was doing and raised her head to listen.But everything was silent except the wall clock and the fire.She opened the oven door and looked at the tin pan of bread.Then she bent over and stopped, because someone was going downstairs.She heard footsteps across the dining room, and then the swing door opened, and Luster came in, followed by a large man whose molecules seemed unwilling or unable to stick together, nor willing or It can't seem to be cohesive with the skeleton supporting the body.His skin was dead gray, and he was smooth and beardless; he was a little bloated, and he walked with a limp, like a trained bear.His hair is fine and soft, very light in color.The hair fell smoothly from the forehead, like the dolls of children in early daguerreotypes.His eyes were bright, the pleasant light blue of cornflowers.His thick lips were parted, drooling slightly. "Is he cold?" Dilsey said.She wiped her hands on the apron and reached out to touch his. "He wasn't necessarily cold, but I was," Luster said. "It's cold on Easter, every year, Miss Caroline said, and if you don't have time to fill her with a hot water bottle, forget it." "Oh, for God's sake," Dilsey said.She pulled up a chair and put it in the corner between the firewood box and the stove.The big man walked over obediently and sat down on the chair. "Go into the dining room and see where I left the hot water bottle," Dilsey said.Luster went to the restaurant to fetch the hot water bottle, which Dilsey filled and handed back to him. "Send it quickly," she said. "See if Jason's awake now. Tell them they've got breakfast." Luster is gone.Ben sat by the stove.He sat slouched, motionless except for his head.He watched Dilsey go up and down, bouncing his head up and down, with gay, dreamy eyes, and Luster came back. "He's up," he said, "Miss Caroline says put the hot water bottle on the table." He goes to the stove) Holds out both hands, palms to the firebox. "He's up, too," he said, "he must have put his feet on the ground today." "What happened again?" Dilsey said. "Get the hell out of there. How am I supposed to work while you're standing in front of the stove?" "I'm cold," said Luster. "You should have thought it was cold in the cellar," Dilsey said. "What's the matter Jason?" "Said me and Benji broke a glass window in his room." "Is it broken?" Dilsey said. "That's what he said anyway," Luster said. "I insisted that I broke it." "He locks the door day and night, how can you break it?" "Say I threw a stone up and broke it," Luster said. "Then did you throw it away?" "Nothing at all," Luster said. "Don't tell me nonsense, boy," Dilsey said. "I didn't throw it at all," Luster said. "Ask Benjy if you don't believe me. I didn't even glance at that window." "Who could it be then?" Dilsey said. "He did it completely against himself and woke Quentin up," she said.While taking a plate of cookies out of the oven. "That's right," said Luster. "These people are weird. It's a good thing I'm not like them." "It's different from who," Dilsey said. "Put your ears up, nigger, you're just like them, and you've got the Compson madness in you. Tell me the truth, did you hit it?" ①A superstition of foreigners, who think that one of their feet lands first can signify good luck or bad luck, and what does it mean if both feet land at the same time.There are many sayings, and they are not consistent everywhere. "What good will it do me if I break it?" "Isn't there some reason to what you do when you're in a trance?" Dilsey said. "You take care of him, don't let him burn his hands when I set the meal." She went to the restaurant.They could hear her walking up and down and she came back after a while and put a plate on the kitchen table with some food in it.Ban Ding looked at her, drooling and humming anxiously. "There, honey," she said, "here's your breakfast. Bring his chair, Luster." Luster brought the chair, and Ben sat down, grunting and drooling.Dilsey wrapped two cloths around his neck and wiped his mouth with a corner of the cloth. "Let's see if you can keep his clothes clean," she said, passing a spoon into Luster's hand. Ben stopped humming.He stared at the spoon as it was slowly approaching his mouth.To him, it seemed that urgency was also controlled by muscles, while hunger itself was an indistinct feeling, which he could not quite figure out.Luster fed him deftly and absently.After a while, his attention would briefly return to the work at hand. At this time, he would feed an empty spoon to Ben, so that Ben's mouth would close in vain, and he would bite into nothing.However, it was clear that Luster's mind was elsewhere.His non-spoon hand rested on the back of the chair, touching the unresponsive board tentatively.Gently embracing it and thinking about it, it was like looking for an inaudible piece of music from a silent place. Once his fingers struck a set of silent and extremely complicated arpeggios on the sawn board, and he forgot In order to play tricks on Ben with a spoon, he didn't wake up from the dream until Ben started humming again. Dilsey walked up and down the dining room.After a while, she rang a small crisp bell, and then, in the kitchen, Luster heard the sound of Mrs. Compson and Jason coming downstairs, as well as Jason's voice. He quickly rolled his eyes and paid attention. Listen carefully. "Of course, I know they didn't," Jason said. "Of course. I know. Maybe a change in the weather broke the glass." "I don't see how it got broken," said Mrs. Compson. "Your room is locked all day. It's always like that every time you leave the house and go into town. Nobody ever cleans it except on Sundays." Go in. I don't want you to think I'm going where I'm not welcome, and I certainly wouldn't send anyone there." "I didn't say you broke it, did I?" Jason said. "I don't want to be in your room at all," said Mrs. Compson. "I respect anyone's private affairs. I wouldn't want to step into your room even if I had the key." "Yes," Jason said, "I know your key won't open. That's why I changed the lock. What I want to know is how the window broke." "Lester said he didn't hit it," Dilsey said. "I don't have to ask to know he didn't do it," Jason said. "Where's Quentin?" he said. "Where she's usually on Sunday mornings, she's where she is," said Dilsey. "What's wrong with you these few days, Ting'er?" "Okay then, we're going to smash all these old rules," Jason said. "Go upstairs and let her know that breakfast is ready." "You don't want to mess with her right now, Jason," Dilsey said. "She usually gets up on time for breakfast, and Caroline promises to let her go to bed late every Sunday. You know that." "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't afford a house full of niggers to wait on Miss Charm," Jason said. "Go get her down for breakfast." "There's no one around for her," Dilsey said. "I put her share of breakfast in the warmer until she—" "Did you hear what I said?" Jason said. "I hear you," Dilsey said. "I never fail to hear you swearing when you're in the house. Either at Quentin and your mother, or at Luster and Benji. Why do you let him like that, Miss Caroline?" "You do as he bids," said Mrs. Compson. "He is the head of the house now, and he has a right to have us respect his wishes. I try to do it, and if I can, you can too." ." "He's so bad-tempered that there's no sense in calling Quentin up," Dilsey said. "Perhaps you thought she opened the window." "She can do what she wants," Jason said. "You go and do as I tell you." "I don't blame her if she did it," said Dilsey, shuffling toward the stairs. "You're going to blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah when you get home." "Stop it, Dilsey," Mrs. Compson said. "It's beyond our duty for you or me to tell Jason what to do. Sometimes I think he's wrong, but I'm pushing for the best of both worlds." Listen to him yourself. Since I can drag my sick body downstairs to eat, Quentin should be able to do the same." Dilsey came out of the room and they heard her climbing the stairs.They heard her climbing and climbing the stairs for a long time. "The servants you use are real treasures," Jason said.He plated food for his mother and for himself. "Have you ever used one that looks like a human? You must have had several before I can remember." "I can't help them," said Mrs. Compson. "I depend on them for everything. If I was in good health, of course it would be different. I wish I was better. Then I could take care of the housework. At least it would lighten your load a bit." ." "Our house is going to be a pigsty," Jason said. "Come on, Dilsey," he yelled. "I know you'll blame me again," said Mrs. Compson, "for I promised them to go to church today." "Where are you going?" Jason said. "Isn't that bastard's troupe gone yet?" "It's church," said Mrs. Compson. "Negroes are having a special Easter service today. I promised Dilsey they would go two weeks ago." "That means we have to eat cold food and cold food again at noon," Jason said, "and we can't even eat anything." "I know it's all my fault," said Mrs. Compson, "and I know you'll blame me." "Why do you blame it?" Jason said. "You didn't bring Jesus back to life, did you?" They heard Dilsey ascend the last flight of stairs, and then heard her moving slowly upstairs. "Quentin," she said.When she called this first, Jason put down the knife and fork, and he and his mother sat opposite each other across the dining table, in exactly the same posture, as if they were waiting for each other; this one was cruel.Shrewd, flattened brown hair curled into unruly curls on the left and right sides of the forehead, like a bartender in a cartoon, hazel-colored eyes with black-rimmed irises, like two marbles; The other was grim, chattering, with silver hair, eyes with sagging tear sacs, bewildered eyes, and dark sockets as if they were all pupils, all irises. "Quentin," Dilsey said, "get up, sweetie. They're waiting for you for breakfast." "I don't really understand how that window broke," said Mrs. Compson. "Can you really be sure it was broken yesterday? It must have been broken earlier, it was warmer and it was the upper half again, so I didn't realize it was covered by the curtain." "How many times have I told you that it was yesterday," Jason said. "Don't you think I don't even know what's going on in my own room? You think I've slept in it for a week, and there's a big hole in the window where I can put my hand in—" And saying, His voice stopped and gradually disappeared, and he stared blankly at his mother.For a moment.There was no expression in his eyes, as if even his eyes were holding their breath.At the same time his mother watched him, her face haggard, surly, nagging, sly, and rather dull.As they sat opposite each other, Dilsey upstairs spoke again. "Quentin. Stop teasing me, sweetie. Go get some breakfast, honey, they're waiting for you." "I just don't get it," said Mrs. Compson, "someone seems to be trying to get into this house—" Jason jumped up.His chair fell backwards with a crash. "What-" said Mrs. Compson, staring at him blankly as he ran away from her and hopped up the stairs, where he met Dilsey, who didn't see him hiding. face in the dark, only to him: "She's not happy. Your mother hasn't unlocked her door—" Jason ignored her and rushed past her to a door in the hallway.He didn't knock.He caught the croquet, tried it, and then he stood there, leaning forward a little, holding the croquet, as if he was listening for something outside the small room in the door, and he did hear it.Jason's posture was that of a man who pretends to be listening, who pretends to trick himself into believing that what he hears is indeed real.Behind Jason, Mrs. Compson climbed up the stairs, calling his name.Then she saw Dilsey and stopped calling him Dilsey. "I told you, she ain't unlocked that door," Dilsey said. Jason turned and ran towards her as she spoke, but his voice was calm and emotionless. "Does she have a key with her?" he said. "She's got a key ring on her right now. I mean: Did she—" "Dilsey," Mrs. Compson called from the stairs. "What key?" Dilsey said. "Why don't you let—" "The key," Jason said, "the key to that door. Does she always have the key with her, Mother." Then he saw Mrs. Compson, and went downstairs to meet him. "Give me the key," he said.He started to take out the pockets of the rusty black nightgown she was wearing, and she twisted her body in resistance. "Jason," she said, "Jason! You and Dilsey want me to get sick again?" she said, trying to fend him off. ?" "Where's the key," Jason said, still feeling around on her. "Give it to me right away." He looked back at the door, as if afraid it would slam open before he got the key to open it. "Come on, Dilsey!" said Mrs. Compson, hugging her nightgown tightly around her. "Give me the key, you silly old woman!" Jason yelled suddenly.He yanked out of her pocket a large bunch of rusty keys, with large hoops like those used by jailers in the Middle Ages.Then he went back across the balcony into the corridor, the two old women trailing behind him. "You, Jason!" said Mrs. Compson. "He's never going to find the right one," he said. "You know I've never had my keys taken away, Dilsey," he said.She wept bitterly. "Don't cry," Dilsey said, "he won't do anything to her. I won't let him." "But on a Sunday morning, in my own house again," said Mrs. Compson, "after I've labored so hard to bring them up Christianly, let me find them for you, Jason," he said. .She put her hand on his arm, and then fought him again.But when he flicked his arm, he threw her aside, turned his head to look at her, his eyes were cold and annoyed, and then he turned back to the door and fiddled with the difficult set of keys. "Stop crying," Dilsey said. "Hi, Jason!" "It's not a big deal," said Mrs. Compson, crying again. "I know something is wrong. You, Jason," she said, and hugged Jason again. "He wouldn't even give me a room key in my own home!" "Come on, come on," said Dilsey, "what's going to happen? And me. I ain't gonna let him touch Quentin, Quentin," she cried aloud. . "You don't have to be afraid, baby, I'm here." The door opened and turned in.He stood in the doorway for a while, blocking the door, and then moved aside, "Go in." He said softly in a dull voice.They went in.This is not like a girl's boudoir.It doesn't look like anyone's room either.That faint smell of cheap cosmetics.The presence of a few feminine items and other unsuccessful attempts to make the room more feminine just backfires and makes the room nondescript.There was the impersonal, formulaic improvisation of a room rented out for trysts.The bed was not messed up.On the floor lay a dirty underclothes, of cheap silk, of a tacky pink colour; a stocking was hanging from a half-open drawer of the wardrobe.The window was open.There is a pear tree outside the window, very close to the house.梨花盛开着，树枝刮擦着房屋，发出沙沙的响声，从窗外涌进来一股又一般的空气，把怪凄凉的花香带进屋来。 "瞧嘛，"迪尔西说，"我不是说了她没事儿吗？" "没事儿吗？"康普生太太说。迪尔西跟在她后面走进房间，拉了拉她。 "您快回去给我躺下，"她说。"我十分钟内就把她我回来。" 康普生太太甩开了她。"快找字条。"她说。"昆丁那次是留下字条的①。" "好吧，"迪尔西说，"我来找字条。您先回自己房去，走吧。" "他们给她赵名为昆丁的那一分钟，我就知道肯定会出这样的事，"康普生太太说。她走到衣柜前，翻起里面的乱七八糟的东西来——一只香水瓶、一盒粉、一支咬得残缺不全的铅笔、一把断了头的剪刀，剪刀是搁在一块补过的头巾上的，那条头巾上又有香粉，又有口红印。"快找字条呀，"她说。 "俺正在找呢，"迪尔西说。"您快走吧。我和杰生会找到字条的。您先回您屋里去吧。" "杰生，"康普生太太喊道，"他在哪儿呢？"她走到门口。迪尔西跟着她走过楼厅，来到另一扇门的前面。The door is closed. "杰生，"她隔着门喊道。投人回答。她扭了扭门球，又重新喊起他来。仍然没有回答，原来他正在把东西从壁橱里拖出来扔到身后去呢：外衣。皮鞋，还有一只箱子。接着他拉出一截企口板，把它放下，又重新进入壁橱，捧了一只小铁箱出来。他把箱子放在床上，站在那儿打量那扭坏的锁，同时从自己兜里摸出一串钥匙，从里面挑出一把。他呆愣愣地握着那把钥匙，站了好一会儿，瞪着那把破锁，这才又把那串钥匙揣因到兜里，小心翼翼地把箱子里的东西全倒在床上。他更加细心地把一张张纸片归类，一次只拿起一张，还都抖了抖。接着他把箱子竖起来，也抖了它几下，然后慢条斯理地把纸片放回去。他又愣愣地站住不动了，手里托着箱子，头俯垂着，瞪视着给扭坏的锁。他听见窗外有几只挫鸟尖叫着掠过窗子，飞了开去，它们的叫声被风撕碎、飘散，不知哪儿驶过一辆汽车，声音也逐渐消失。他的母亲又隔着门在叫他了，可是他一动也不动。他听见迪尔西把母亲领向楼厅，接着一扇门关上了。这以后他把箱子放口壁橱，把一件件衣服扔了进去，下楼走到电话边。他站在删L把听筒搁在耳朵上等待时，迪尔西下楼来了。她瞧瞧他，没有停步，继续往前走去。 ①指她的大儿子自杀时的情况。 The phone went through. "我是杰生·康普生，"他说，他的声音既刺耳又沙嘎，他只得重复一遍。 "是杰生·康普生啊，"他说，使劲地控制着自己的声音。 "准备好一辆汽车，一位副曹长，如果你自己抽不出身的话，十分钟内我就到——你问是什么事？——是抢劫。我家里。我知道是谁——抢劫，一点不错。快准备车吧——什么？你难道不是个拿政府薪水的执法者——好吧，我五分钟之内就到。让车子准备好可以马上出发。要是你不干，我要向州长报告。" 他把听筒啪的摔回到座架上去，穿过餐厅，餐桌上那顿几乎没有动过的早饭已经凉了，又走进厨房。迪尔西正在灌热水袋。班静静地、茫然地坐着。在他身边，勒斯特显得又机灵又警觉石只杂种小狗，勒斯特不知在吃什么。杰生穿过厨房还往前走。 "你早饭一点也不吃吗？"迪尔西说。他理也不理她。"去吃一点吧，杰生。"他还在往前走。通院子的那扇门砰的一声在他多后关上了。勒斯特站起身走到窗前朝外面张望。 "嚯，"他说，"楼上怎么啦？是他揍了昆丁小姐了吗？" "你给我闭嘴，"迪尔西说。"你要是这会儿惹得班吉吵起来：瞧我不把你的脑袋揍扁。你好好哄他，我一会儿就回来，听见没有。"她拧紧热水袋的塞子，走了出去。他们听见她上楼的声音接着又听见杰生开汽车经过屋子的声音。这以后，除了水壶的咝咝声和持钟的嘀嗒声外，厨房里再没有别的声音了。 "你知道我敢打陷这是怎么一回事吗？"勒斯特说，"我敢肯定他准是揍她了。我敢肯定他把她的脑袋打开瓢了，现在去请医生了。这些都是明接着的。"钟嘀嗒嘀嗒地晌着，显得庄严而又深沉。没准这就是这座颓败的大房子本身有气无力的脉搏声。过了一会儿，钟嘎啦啦一阵响，清了清嗓子，然后打了六下。班抬起头来看了一眼，接着瞧了瞧窗前勒斯特那颗子弹般的脑袋的黑影，他又开始把脑袋一颠一颠，嘴里淌着口水。他又哀号起来。 "闭嘴，大傻子，"勒斯特说了一声，连头也没有口。"看样子咱们今儿个教堂去不成了。"可是班还是在轻轻地哼哼，他坐在椅子上，那双又大又软的手耷拉在两膝之间。突然，他哭起来了，那是一种无意识的、持续不断的吼叫声。"别吵了，"勒斯特说，他扭过头来，扬起了手。"你是不是要我抽你一顿？"可是班光是瞅着他，每出一次气便馒悠悠地哼上一声。勒斯特走过去摇晃他。你马上就给我住嘴！"他嚷道。"过来，"他说。他一下子把班从椅子里拽起来，把椅子拖到炉火前，打开炉门，然后把班往椅子里一推。他们的样子很象是一只小拖船要把一艘笨重的大油轮拖进狭窄的船坞。班坐了下来，面对着玫瑰色的炉膛。他不吵了。接着他们又能听见钟的嘀答声了，也能听见迪尔西慢腾腾下楼的声音了。她走进厨房时班又哼哼了。接着他又提高了嗓门。 "你又把他怎么的啦？"迪尔西说。"你什么时候不可以，干吗非得在今儿早上弄得他不能安生？" "我一根毫毛也没动他的呀，"勒斯特说。"是杰生先生吓着他了，就是这么回事。他没杀死昆丁小姐吧，有没有？" "别哭了，班吉，"迪尔西说。班真的不出声了。她走到窗前，朝外面望了望。"不下雨了吧？"他说， "是的，姥姥，"勒斯特说。"早就不下了。" "那你们俩出去待一会儿，"他说，"我好不容易刚让卡罗琳小姐安静下来。" "咱们还去教堂吗？"勒斯特说。 "到时候我会让你知道的，我不叫你你别带他回来。"