Chapter 99
第九十九章
菲利普开始典当衣服。为了紧缩开支，除了早饭，他每天就吃一餐，仅用些面包、奶油和可可。这一餐是在下午四时，这样可以熬到第二天早晨。到了晚上九时，饥肠辘辘，无力支撑，只得上床睡觉。他曾考虑去向劳森告贷，但因害怕吃闭门羹而畏葸不前，最后熬不过，还是去向他借了五英镑。劳森非常乐意借钱给菲利普，不过在借钱的当儿，却说：
"你会在一个星期左右的时间里还给我的，是不？我还得用这个钱去付给我做画框的人的工钱，再说我眼下手头也紧得很哪。"
菲利普深知自己到时根本还不出这笔钱来，但想到劳森不知对自己会有什么看法时，他感到很不好意思。于是，三两天以后，又把这笔钱原封不动地退还给劳森。劳森正要外出吃中饭，见了菲利普便邀请他一道进餐。菲利普根本吃不起什么东西，当然很乐意跟他一道去吃顿像样的饭菜。星期天，他肯定可以在阿特尔涅家吃上一顿美餐。他对是否把自己的事儿告诉阿特尔涅一家有点犹豫不决，因为他们一直认为他颇为殷实，生怕他们一旦知道了他身上不名一文以后会不怎么看重他。
虽说他日子一向过得并不富裕，可他从来不曾想到会落到饿肚子的地步。这种事情是从来不会在跟他生活在一起的人们中间发生的。他感到羞愧难言，就像是患有一种不光彩的疾病似的。他的经验已不足以对付目下所处的困境。他除了继续在医院于下去之外，不知道还能做些什么，对此，他感到不胜惊愕。他有个模糊的希望：事情总会好转的，他不怎么相信眼下发生的事儿会是真的。想当初刚开始上学那会儿，他常常想他的学校生活不过是场梦，一觉醒来就会发觉自己回到了家里的。但是不久，他想到一个星期左右之后他将囊空如洗，一文不名，得赶紧想法子赚些钱。要是早已取得了医生资格，即使拖了只跛足，他还是可以到好望角去，因为当时对医护人员的需求量极大。要不是身有残疾，他兴许早被征入经常被派出国外的义勇骑兵队了。菲利普找到了医学院的秘书，询问是否可以让他辅导智力差的学生，但是那位秘书却说他根本无望做这种事儿。菲利普阅读医学界报纸上的广告栏，发现有个人在富勒姆路上开了爿药房，便去向这个人申请当一名无医生资格的助手。菲利普上门去找那个人洽谈时，发觉那位医生朝他的跛足瞥了一眼。当听到菲利普说自己还是个四年级生，那医生便立即表示他的经验还不够。菲利普心里明白这只是个托辞而已，那个人是不愿录用一位不像他想象中那么灵活的助手的。随后，菲利普把注意力转向其他赚钱的方式。他既懂法文又懂德文，凭这一点，也许能找到个文书的职位。虽然羞于按广告要求预先寄一份个人申请书，但他还是向那些要求出示证件的公司提出了申请。不过他毫无资历可言，也没有人给他推荐。他意识到无论是他的法文还是他的德文，都不足以应付生意经，因为他对商业用语一窍不通，再说他既不会速记也不会打字。他不得不承认自己到了山穷水尽的地步。他考虑给那位作为他父亲遗嘱执行人的律师写封信，但是又终究不敢写，因为他违背了这位律师的明白无误的劝告，把抵押着他的全部财产的契据卖了个精光。菲利普从大伯那儿得知，尼克逊先生一点儿也不喜欢他。尼克逊先生从会计室里得知，菲利普这一年里是既毫无作为又吊儿郎当。
"我宁肯饿死，"菲利普喃喃地自言自语。
有那么一两次，他起了自杀的念头。从医院药房里很容易就可以搞到些毒药，想到这里，他不无欣慰地认为，即使事情到了最坏的地步，他手边就有毫无痛苦地结果自己生命的办法。但是，这件事他压根儿没认真考虑过。当米尔德丽德遗弃他随格里菲思出走时，他悲恸欲绝，真想以一死来了却精神上的痛苦。可眼下他并不像那次一样想寻死觅活的。菲利普记起了急救室那位女护士对他说的一番话。她说，人们更经常的是为无钱而不是为失恋而自杀的。他认为自己倒是个例外。在这当儿，他不禁扑哧一声笑了起来。菲利普多么希望能对人诉说自己满腹的忧虑，但他又不能让自己把这些忧虑和盘托出。他感到难为情。他继续外出寻找工作。他已经三个星期未付房租了，对房东太太解释说他到月底才能得到笔钱。房东太太听后没有做声，只是噘起了嘴巴，脸上冷若冰霜。到了月底，房东太太跑来询问菲利普，说让他先付些房租这种做法是否适宜。房东太太的话使他感到一阵恶心。他说手头无钱，付不出房租，但他告诉房东太太，说他将写信给他大伯，下星期六他肯定能够结清积欠的赁金。
"嗯，我希望你能结清欠帐，凯里先生，因为我自己也得交房租呀，我可无法老是让帐拖欠下去。"她说话时虽说语气平和，但话中夹带着一种使人发憷的斩钉截铁的味儿。她顿了顿后又说："下星期六你再不付房租，我可要去向医院秘书告状了。"
"喔，会付的，你就放心吧。"
房东太太瞧了他一会儿，随即朝空荡荡的房间扫视了一眼。等她再次启口时，仍然口气平平，语调平缓，仿佛是在说一件最平淡无奇的事儿似的。
"我楼下有块热乎乎、香喷喷的大块肉，如果你愿意到楼下厨房去的话，我欢迎你来分享这顿午饭。"
菲利普顿时感到自己浑身燥热，羞得无地自容，差一点没哭出声来。
"太谢谢您了，希金斯太太，不过我现在一点儿也不觉得饿。"
"那好，先生。"
房东太太一走，菲利普猛地扑倒在床上，使劲握紧双拳，竭力克制住不让自己哭出声来。
Philip began to pawn his clothes. He reduced his expenses by eating only one meal a day beside his breakfast； and he ate it， bread and butter and cocoa， at four so that it should last him till next morning. He was so hungry by nine o'clock that he had to go to bed. He thought of borrowing money from Lawson， but the fear of a refusal held him back； at last he asked him for five pounds. Lawson lent it with pleasure， but， as he did so， said：
"You'll let me have it back in a week or so， won't you？ I've got to pay my framer， and I'm awfully broke just now. "
Philip knew he would not be able to return it， and the thought of what Lawson would think made him so ashamed that in a couple of days he took the money back untouched. Lawson was just going out to luncheon and asked Philip to come too. Philip could hardly eat， he was so glad to get some solid food. On Sunday he was sure of a good dinner from Athelny. He hesitated to tell the Athelnys what had happened to him： they had always looked upon him as comparatively well-to-do， and he had a dread that they would think less well of him if they knew he was penniless.
Though he had always been poor， the possibility of not having enough to eat had never occurred to him； it was not the sort of thing that happened to the people among whom he lived； and he was as ashamed as if he had some disgraceful disease. The situation in which he found himself was quite outside the range of his experience. He was so taken aback that he did not know what else to do than to go on at the hospital； he had a vague hope that something would turn up； he could not quite believe that what was happening to him was true； and he remembered how during his first term at school he had often thought his life was a dream from which he would awake to find himself once more at home. But very soon he foresaw that in a week or so he would have no money at all. He must set about trying to earn something at once. If he had been qualified， even with a club-foot， he could have gone out to the Cape， since the demand for medical men was now great. Except for his deformity he might have enlisted in one of the yeomanry regiments which were constantly being sent out. He went to the secretary of the Medical School and asked if he could give him the coaching of some backward student； but the secretary held out no hope of getting him anything of the sort. Philip read the advertisement columns of the medical papers， and he applied for the post of unqualified assistant to a man who had a dispensary in the Fulham Road. When he went to see him， he saw the doctor glance at his club-foot； and on hearing that Philip was only in his fourth year at the hospital he said at once that his experience was insufficient： Philip understood that this was only an excuse； the man would not have an assistant who might not be as active as he wanted. Philip turned his attention to other means of earning money. He knew French and German and thought there might be some chance of finding a job as correspondence clerk； it made his heart sink， but he set his teeth； there was nothing else to do. Though too shy to answer the advertisements which demanded a personal application， he replied to those which asked for letters； but he had no experience to state and no recommendations： he was conscious that neither his German nor his French was commercial； he was ignorant of the terms used in business； he knew neither shorthand nor typewriting. He could not help recognising that his case was hopeless. He thought of writing to the solicitor who had been his father's executor， but he could not bring himself to， for it was contrary to his express advice that he had sold the mortgages in which his money had been invested. He knew from his uncle that Mr. Nixon thoroughly disapproved of him. He had gathered from Philip's year in the accountant's office that he was idle and incompetent.
"I'd sooner starve， " Philip muttered to himself.
Once or twice the possibility of suicide presented itself to him； it would be easy to get something from the hospital dispensary， and it was a comfort to think that if the worst came to the worst he had at hand means of making a painless end of himself； but it was not a course that he considered seriously. When Mildred had left him to go with Griffiths his anguish had been so great that he wanted to die in order to get rid of the pain. He did not feel like that now. He remembered that the Casualty Sister had told him how people oftener did away with themselves for want of money than for want of love； and he chuckled when he thought that he was an exception. He wished only that he could talk his worries over with somebody， but he could not bring himself to confess them. He was ashamed. He went on looking for work. He left his rent unpaid for three weeks， explaining to his landlady that he would get money at the end of the month； she did not say anything， but pursed her lips and looked grim. When the end of the month came and she asked if it would be convenient for him to pay something on account， it made him feel very sick to say that he could not； he told her he would write to his uncle and was sure to be able to settle his bill on the following Saturday.
"Well， I 'ope you will， Mr. Carey， because I 'ave my rent to pay， and I can't afford to let accounts run on. " She did not speak with anger， but with determination that was rather frightening. She paused for a moment and then said： "If you don't pay next Saturday， I shall 'ave to complain to the secretary of the 'ospital. "
"Oh yes， that'll be all right. "
She looked at him for a little and glanced round the bare room. When she spoke it was without any emphasis， as though it were quite a natural thing to say.
"I've got a nice 'ot joint downstairs， and if you like to come down to the kitchen you're welcome to a bit of dinner. "
Philip felt himself redden to the soles of his feet， and a sob caught at his throat.
"Thank you very much， Mrs. Higgins， but I'm not at all hungry. "
"Very good， sir. "
When she left the room Philip threw himself on his bed. He had to clench his fists in order to prevent himself from crying.