[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第47部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


duced　by　sharp；　bodily　pain。　To　Mrs。　Seal’s　secret　jubilation　
the　rule　which　forbade　discussion　of　shop　at　teatime　
was　overlooked。　Mary　and　Mr。　Clacton　argued　with　a　
cogency　and　a　ferocity　which　made　the　little　woman　feel　
that　something　very　important—she　hardly　knew　what—　
was　taking　place。　She　became　much　excited；　one　crucifix　
became　entangled　with　another；　and　she　dug　a　considerable　
hole　in　the　table　with　the　point　of　her　pencil　in　
order　to　emphasize　the　most　striking　heads　of　the　discourse；　
and　how　any　bination　of　Cabi　Ministers　
could　resist　such　discourse　she　really　did　not　know。　

She　could　hardly　bring　herself　to　remember　her　own　
private　instrument　of　justice—the　typewriter。　The　telephone
bell　rang；　and　as　she　hurried　off　to　answer　a　voice　
which　always　seemed　a　proof　of　importance　by　itself；　she　
felt　that　it　was　at　this　exact　spot　on　the　surface　of　the　
globe　that　all　the　subterranean　wires　of　thought　and　
progress　came　together。　When　she　returned；　with　a　message　
from　the　printer；　she　found　that　Mary　was　putting　
on　her　hat　firmly；　there　was　something　imperious　and　
dominating　in　her　attitude　altogether。　

“Look；　Sally；”　she　said；　“these　letters　want　copying。　
These　I’ve　not　looked　at。　The　question　of　the　new　census　
will　have　to　be　gone　into　carefully。　But　I’m　going　home　
now。　Good　night；　Mr。　Clacton；　good　night；　Sally。”　

“We　are　very　fortunate　in　our　secretary；　Mr。　Clacton；”　
said　Mrs。　Seal；　pausing　with　her　hand　on　the　papers；　as　
the　door　shut　behind　Mary。　Mr。　Clacton　himself　had　been　
vaguely　impressed　by　something　in　Mary’s　behavior　towards　
him。　He　envisaged　a　time　even　when　it　would　bee　
necessary　to　tell　her　that　there　could　not　be　two　
masters　in　one　office—but　she　was　certainly　able；　very　
able；　and　in　touch　with　a　group　of　very　clever　young　
men。　No　doubt　they　had　suggested　to　her　some　of　her　
new　ideas。　

He　signified　his　assent　to　Mrs。　Seal’s　remark；　but　observed；　
with　a　glance　at　the　clock；　which　showed　only　
half　an　hour　past　five：　

“If　she　takes　the　work　seriously；　Mrs。　Seal—but　that’s　
just　what　some　of　your　clever　young　ladies　don’t　do。”　So　
saying　he　returned　to　his　room；　and　Mrs。　Seal；　after　a　
moment’s　hesitation；　hurried　back　to　her　labors。　

229　



Night　and　Day　

CHAPTER　XXI　


Mary　walked　to　the　nearest　station　and　reached　home　in　
an　incredibly　short　space　of　time；　just　so　much；　indeed；　
as　was　needed　for　the　intelligent　understanding　of　the　
news　of　the　world　as　the　“Westminster　Gazette”　reported　
it。　Within　a　few　minutes　of　opening　her　door；　she　was　in　
trim　for　a　hard　evening’s　work。　She　unlocked　a　drawer　
and　took　out　a　manuscript；　which　consisted　of　a　very　few　
pages；　entitled；　in　a　forcible　hand；　“Some　Aspects　of　the　
Democratic　State。”　The　aspects　dwindled　out　in　a　cries
cross　of　blotted　lines　in　the　very　middle　of　a　sentence；　
and　suggested　that　the　author　had　been　interrupted；　or　
convinced　of　the　futility　of　proceeding；　with　her　pen　in　
the　air…　。　Oh；　yes；　Ralph　had　e　in　at　that　point。　She　
scored　that　sheet　very　effectively；　and；　choosing　a　fresh　
one；　began　at　a　great　rate　with　a　generalization　upon　the　
structure　of　human　society；　which　was　a　good　deal　bolder　
than　her　custom。　Ralph　had　told　her　once　that　she　couldn’t　
write　English；　which　accounted　for　those　frequent　blots　
and　insertions；　but　she　put　all　that　behind　her；　and　drove　

ahead　with　such　words　as　came　her　way；　until　she　had　
acplished　half　a　page　of　generalization　and　might　
legitimately　draw　breath。　Directly　her　hand　stopped　her　
brain　stopped　too；　and　she　began　to　listen。　A　paperboy　
shouted　down　the　street；　an　omnibus　ceased　and　lurched　
on　again　with　the　heave　of　duty　once　more　shouldered；　
the　dullness　of　the　sounds　suggested　that　a　fog　had　risen　
since　her　return；　if；　indeed；　a　fog　has　power　to　deaden　
sound；　of　which　fact；　she　could　not　be　sure　at　the　present　
moment。　It　was　the　sort　of　fact　Ralph　Denham　knew。　At　
any　rate；　it　was　no　concern　of　hers；　and　she　was　about　to　
dip　a　pen　when　her　ear　was　caught　by　the　sound　of　a　step　
upon　the　stone　staircase。　She　followed　it　past　Mr。　Chippen’s　
chambers；　past　Mr。　Gibson’s；　past　Mr。　Turner’s；　after　which　
it　became　her　sound。　A　postman；　a　washerwoman；　a　circular；　
a　bill—she　presented　herself　with　each　of　these　
perfectly　natural　possibilities；　but；　to　her　surprise；　her　
mind　rejected　each　one　of　them　impatiently；　even　apprehensively。　
The　step　became　slow；　as　it　was　apt　to　do　at　
the　end　of　the　steep　climb；　and　Mary；　listening　for　the　
regular　sound；　was　filled　with　an　intolerable　nervous


230　



Virginia　Woolf　

ness。　Leaning　against　the　table；　she　felt　the　knock　of　her　
heart　push　her　body　perceptibly　backwards　and　forwards—　
a　state　of　nerves　astonishing　and　reprehensible　in　a　stable　
woman。　Grotesque　fancies　took　shape。　Alone；　at　the　top　
of　the　house；　an　unknown　person　approaching　nearer　and　
nearer—how　could　she　escape？　There　was　no　way　of　escape。　
She　did　not　even　know　whether　that　oblong　mark　
on　the　ceiling　was　a　trapdoor　to　the　roof　or　not。　And　if　
she　got　on　to　the　roof—well；　there　was　a　drop　of　sixty　
feet　or　so　on　to　the　pavement。　But　she　sat　perfectly　still；　
and　when　the　knock　sounded；　she　got　up　directly　and　
opened　the　door　without　hesitation。　She　saw　a　tall　figure　
outside；　with　something　ominous　to　her　eyes　in　the　look　
of　it。　

“What　do　you　want？”　she　said；　not　recognizing　the　face　
in　the　fitful　light　of　the　staircase。　

“Mary？　I’m　Katharine　Hilbery！”　

Mary’s　selfpossession　returned　almost　excessively；　and　
her　wele　was　decidedly　cold；　as　if　she　must　recoup　
herself　for　this　ridiculous　waste　of　emotion。　She　moved　
her　greenshaded　lamp　to　another　table；　and　covered　

“Some　Aspects　of　the　Democratic　State”　with　a　sheet　of　
blottingpaper。　

“Why　can’t　they　leave　me　alone？”　she　thought　bitterly；　
connecting　Katharine　and　Ralph　in　a　conspiracy　to　take　
from　her　even　this　hour　of　solitary　study；　even　this　poor　
little　defence　against　the　world。　And；　as　she　smoothed　
down　the　sheet　of　blottingpaper　over　the　manuscript；　
she　braced　herself　to　resist　Katharine；　whose　presence　
struck　her；　not　merely　by　its　force；　as　usual；　but　as　something　
in　the　nature　of　a　menace。　

“You’re　working？”　said　Katharine；　with　hesitation；　perceiving　
that　she　was　not　wele。　

“Nothing　that　matters；”　Mary　replied；　drawing　forward　
the　best　of　the　chairs　and　poking　the　fire。　

“I　didn’t　know　you　had　to　work　after　you　had　left　the　
office；”　said　Katharine；　in　a　tone　which　gave　the　impression　
that　she　was　thinking　of　something　else；　as　was；　
indeed；　the　case。　

She　had　been　paying　calls　with　her　mother；　and　in　between　
the　calls　Mrs。　Hilbery　had　rushed　into　shops　and　
bought　pillowcases　and　blottingbooks　on　no　percep


231　



Night　and　Day　

tible　method　for　the　furnishing　of　Katharine’s　house。　
Katharine　had　a　sense　of　impedimenta　accumulating　on　
all　sides　of　her。　She　had　left　her　at　length；　and　had　e　
on　to　keep　an　engagement　to　dine　with　Rodney　at　his　
rooms。　But　she　did　not　mean　to　get　to　him　before　seven　
o’clock；　and　so　had　plenty　of　time　to　walk　all　the　way　
from　Bond　Street　to　the　Temple　if　she　wished　it。　The　flow　
of　faces　streaming　on　either　side　of　her　had　hypnotized　
her　into　a　mood　of　profound　despondency；　to　which　her　
expectation　of　an　evening　alone　with　Rodney　contributed。　
They　were　very　good　friends　again；　better　friends；　
they　both　said；　than　ever　before。　So　far　as　she　was　concerned　
this　was　true。　There　were　many　more　things　in　
him　than　she　had　guessed　until　emotion　brought　them　
forth—strength；　affection；　sympathy。　And　she　thought　
of　them　and　looked　at　the　faces　passing；　and　thought　
how　much　alike　they　were；　and　how　distant；　nobody　feeling　
anything　as　she　felt　nothing；　and　distance；　she　
thought；　lay　inevitably　between　the　closest；　and　their　
intimacy　was　the　worst　presence　of　all。　For；　“Oh　dear；”　
she　thought；　looking　into　a　tobacconist’s　window；　“I　don’t　

care　for　any　of　them；　and　I　don’t　care　for　William；　and　
people　say　this　is　the　thing　that　matters　most；　and　I　
can’t　see　what　they　mean　by　it。”　

She　looked　desperately　at　the　smoothbowled　pipes；　
and　wondered—should　she　walk　on　by　the　Strand　or　by　
the　Embankment？　It　was　not　a　simple　question；　for　it　
concerned　not　different　streets　so　much　as　different　
streams　of　thought。　If　she　went　by　the　Strand　she　would　
force　herself　to　think　out　the　problem　of　the　future；　or　
some　mathematical　problem；　if　she　went　by　the　river　she　
would　certainly　begin　to　think　about　things　that　didn’t　
exist—the　forest；　the　ocean　beach；　the　leafy　solitudes；　
the　magnanimous　hero。　No；　no；　no！　A　thousand　times　
no！—it　wouldn’t　do；　there　was　something　repulsive　in　
such　thoughts　at　present；　she　must　take　something　else；　
she　was　out　of　that　mood　at　present。　And　then　she　thought　
of　Mary；　the　thought　gave　her　confidence；　even　pleasure　
of　a　sad　sort；　as　if　the　triumph　of　Ralph　and　Mary　proved　
that　the　fault　of　her　failure　lay　with　herself　and　not　with　
life。　An　indistinct　idea　that　the　sight　of　Mary　might　be　of　
help；　bined　with　her　natural　trust　in　her；　suggested　a　

232　



Virginia　Woolf　

visit；　for；　surely；　her　liking　was　of　a　kind　that　implied　
liking　upon　Mary’s　side　also。　After　a　moment’s　hesitation　
she　decided；　although　she　seldom　acted　upon　impulse；　to　
act　upon　this　one；　and　turned　down　a　side　street　and　
found　Mary’s　door。　But　her　reception　was　not　encouraging；　
clearly　Mary　didn’t　want　to　see　her；　had　no　help　to　
impart；　and　the　halfformed　desire　to　confide　in　her　was　
quenched　immediately。　She　was　slightly　amused　at　her　
own　delusion；　looked　rather　absentminded；　and　swung　
her　gloves　to　and　fro；　as　if　doling　out　the　few　minutes　
accurately　before　she　could　say　goodby。　

Those　few　minutes　might　very　well　be　spent　in　asking　
for　information　as　to　the　exact　position　of　the　Suffrage　
Bill；　or　in　expounding　her　own　very　sensible　view　of　the　
situation。　But　there　was　a　tone　in　her　voice；　or　a　shade　in　
her　opinions；　or　a　swing　of　her　gloves　which　served　to　
irritate　Mary　Datchet；　whose　manner　became　increasingly　
direct；　abrupt；　and　even　antagonistic。　She　became　conscious　
of　a　wish　to　make　Katharine　realize　the　importance　
of　this　work；　which　she　discussed　so　coolly；　as　
though　she；　too；　had　sacrificed　what　Mary　herself　had　

sacrificed。　The　swinging　of　the　gloves　ceased；　and　
Katharine；　after　ten　minutes；　began　to　make　movements　
preliminary　to　departure。　At　the　sight　of　this；　Mary　was　
aware—she　was　abnormally　aware　of　things　tonight—of　
another　very　strong　desire；　Katharine　was　not　to　be　allowed　
to　go；　to　disappear　into　the　free；　happy　world　of　
irresponsible　individuals。　She　must　be　made　to　realize—　
to　feel。　

“I　don’t　quite　see；”　she　said；　as　if　Katharine　had　challenged　
her　explicitly；　“how；　things　being　as　they　are；　any　
one　can　help　trying；　at　least；　to　do　something。”　

“No。　But　how　are　things？”　

Mary　pressed　her　lips；　and　smiled　ironically；　she　had　
Katharine　at　her　mercy；　she　could；　if　she　liked；　discharge　
upon　her　head　wagonloads　of　revolting　proof　of　the　st