Chapter 61
第六十一章
打那以后，菲利普天天都要同她见面。他甚至开始在那家点心店吃午饭。米尔德丽德不让他这么做，说这会惹店里的姑娘们说闲话的，所以他只好满足于在那儿用茶点。不过他差不多天大守在点心店附近等她下班，陪她走到车站。他俩每星期要一块儿外出用餐一两次。他还送给她一些金镯儿、手套、手帕之类的小礼品。他现在花费大了，月月超支。他也是迫不得已：米尔德丽德只有在礼物到手的时候，才会流露出些许温情来。她知道每样东西的价钱，而她表示谢意的热情程度，则是随礼物价值的大小而浮动的。菲利普也不计较这点。只要米尔德丽德主动给他一个甜吻，他就陶然若醉，至于他是凭什么手段打动伊人情怀的，那才不在乎呢。他了解到米尔德丽德星期天在家感到无聊，于是到了星期天早上，他就跑到赫尼希尔，在马路尽头和她碰头，然后陪她上教堂做礼拜。
"我早就想去教堂看看，那儿挺有气派的，是吗？"
从教堂里出来，她回家去吃午饭，菲利普在一家旅馆里随便吃了点东西。下午，他们又去布洛克韦尔公园散步。他俩话不投机，没什么好多谈的，菲利普深恐她感到厌烦（她动不动就感到腻烦），只得绞尽脑汁，找话题同她闲聊。菲利普知道，像这样的散步，双方都得不到什么乐趣，但他就是舍不得离开她，尽量想延长散步的时间，最后往往累得她筋疲力尽，由她发一通脾气而收场。菲利普明知她不喜欢自己，他的理智告诉他，这个女人天生一副铁石心肠，全然不懂什么叫爱情，可他偏偏缘木求鱼，想从她那儿得到爱情。他无权向她提什么要求，可又身不由己地要强求于她。由于彼此渐渐熟捻了，他不像过去那么容易约束自己的脾气，动辄就发怒，而到了气头上，免不了要说些尖酸刻薄的话。他们俩经常拌嘴，之后她就对他不理不睬，结果又总是他厚着脸皮找上门去，低声下气地求情告饶。菲利普有时也恨自己竟然这么没有骨气。此外，他要是看到米尔德丽德在餐厅里同别的男人说话，心里顿时会酸溜溜的，妒火直冒，而他一巳打翻了醋罐子，就像发疯似地再也管束不住自己。他会故意当众羞辱她一顿，悻然而去。可到了晚上，却是一会儿怒火中烧，一会儿懊悔不迭，辗转床榻，夜不成寐。第二天，他又会跑到店里去找她当面赔不是，求她宽恕。
"别生我的气吧，"他说，"我也是出于无奈，因为我实在太喜欢你了。"
"总有一天你会闹得下不来台的，"她回答说。
菲利普非常想到她家去走走，把关系搞得更密切些，这样，比起她上班时所结识的那些泛泛之交来，他就能稳占上风了。但是米尔德丽德偏不许他去。
"我姨妈见了岂不要觉着奇怪？"她说。
菲利普心想，她不许他上门，无非是不想让他见到她姨妈罢了。米尔德丽德一直说她姨妈是个有身分的寡妇，丈夫生前是个自由职业者（在她眼里，自由职业者就是"体面"的代名词），而她自己心里有数，她那位宝贝姨妈很难称得上是"有身分"的，因而觉得老大不自在。据菲利普估计，她充其量只是个小商人的未亡人罢了。他知道米尔德丽德是个势利鬼。他想向她表明心迹，无论她的姨妈出身何等寒微，他全不在乎，可就是不知如何把话挑明。
一天晚上，他俩一块儿吃饭的时候，又吵了起来，这下可彻底闹翻了。她告诉菲利普，有个男的想请她一块儿去看戏。菲利普一听，面孔煞白，那张脸绷得紧紧的，似乎连针也扎不进。
"你不会去吧？"
"干吗不去？他可是个体体面面的上等人呢。"
"只要你说声喜欢，不管哪儿我都愿意带你去。"
"这是两码事嘛。我总不能老是跟着你到处转吧。再说，哪天去看戏，他让我自己决定，我可以随便定在哪一天，只要不是同你一起外出的日子就行了嘛。这又不碍着你什么的。"
"要是你还有点自爱之心，要是你还有点感激之情，那你说什么也不会想去的。"
"我不明白你说的'感激之情'是什么意思。如果你指的是你送给我的那些东西，那你尽可以收回去。谁希罕那些个劳什子。"
她说话的口吻，就像泼妇骂街似的--不过她用这种口吻说话，也不是破天荒头一遭了。
"老是跟着你到处转，多没意思。你光会翻来覆去说，'你爱我吗？''你爱我吗？'简直叫人腻透了。"
（菲利普明知自己一而再、再而三要她回答这个问题实在荒唐得很，可到时候又非问不可。
"嗯，我着实喜欢你，"她总是这么回答。
"就这么一句？我可是真心实意地爱着你呐。"
"我不是那种人，不会来那一套。"
"但愿你能知道，就那么一个词儿，会给我带来多大的幸福！"
"哎，我还是这句老话：我天生是这么个人，谁同我打交道，都得包涵点！假如不合他们的口味，也只好请他们委屈一下咯。"
有时候，她说得更加直截了当。菲利普问起那个老问题时，她干脆回答说：
"别义跟我来这一套。"
菲利普于是把脸一沉，不吱声了，心里恨死了她。）
这会儿，菲利普说：
"嗯，我倒要请教了，要是我真的让你觉着腻透了，那你干吗还要屈尊同我一块儿出来呢？"
"我才不想出来呢，这你尽可放心，还不是你死拖活拉硬把我拖来的。"
这句话可大大地刺伤了菲利普的自尊心，他发疯似地接口说：
"你以为我就那么好欺侮，只配在你找不到旁人的时候请你吃饭，陪你看戏，一旦有人来了，就得乖乖地滚到一边去？得了吧，我才不高兴扛这样的木梢呢。"
"我可不愿让人用这种口吻来跟我说话。现在就请你瞧瞧，我是多么希罕你的这顿该死的晚饭！"
说罢，她霍地站起身，把外套往身上一披，疾步走出餐馆。菲利普仍坐在那儿，他打定了主意由她去。可是十分钟以后，只见他急急忙忙跳上一辆出租马车，又追赶她去了。他估计她是搭公共汽车去维多利亚车站的，所以由马车代步，说不定能同时赶到那儿。他一眼就瞧见她站在月台上，他竭力避开她的视线，悄悄地跟她搭上同一班火车去赫尼希尔。他打算等她快到家了，再同她说话，那时她想避也避不了啦。
待她一转身，刚从亮如白昼、熙熙攘攘的大街拐人横街，他立刻赶了上去。
"米尔德丽德，"他轻声呼唤。
她只顾往前走，既不看他一眼，也不答理他一声。菲利普又唤了她一声，她这才收住脚步，转身面朝菲利普。
"你这算什么意思？我看见你在维多利亚车站晃来晃去。你干吗老缠着我不放。"
"我非常抱歉。让我们讲和吧。"
"不。你的臭脾气，还有你那股醋劲儿，我受够了。我不喜欢你，从来就没喜欢过你，也永远不会喜欢你。咱俩就此一刀两断。"
她继续匆匆前行，菲利普得加快步子才跟得上她。
"你从来也不肯设身处地为我想想，"他说。"要是你心里没有谁，那你当然会整天嘻嘻哈哈，和和气气的，什么也不计较，可要是你也像我这样一头栽入了情网，就很难控制自己的脾气啦。怜悯怜悯我吧。你不喜欢我，我不介意，感情这东西毕竟是没法强求的嘛。只要你能让我爱你就行了。"
她只顾往前走，硬是不开腔。眼看再走不了几百码就到她家门口了，菲利普心里猛地一揪。他再也顾不得体面了。他语无伦次地倾诉心中的爱和悔恨。
"只要你能原谅我这一次，我保证今后绝不再让你受委屈。你高兴跟谁出去，就跟谁出去。你如果什么时候有空，愿意陪我一会儿，我就心满意足了。"
她又停下脚步，因为他们已经来到街角处，平时他们总是在这儿分手的。
"现在请你自便吧。我不要你走近我家门日。"
"我偏不走，除非你说你原谅我了。"
"这一切我厌烦透了。"
菲利普迟疑了片刻。他有一种直觉：他可以说几句叩动她心扉的话，不过要让这些话出口，连自己都感到恶心。
"造化真残忍，我要忍受多大的痛苦啊。你不知道残废人过的是什么日子。你当然不喜欢我。我也不指望你会喜欢我。"
"菲利普，我可没那意思，"她赶忙接口说，口吻里突然流露出几分怜悯。"你知道，你说的不是事实。"
菲利普索性假戏真做了。他压低了嗓门，声音里微带沙哑。
"哦，我可感觉到了呢，"他说。
她握住菲利普的手，望着他，眼眶里噙满了泪水。
"我可以向你担保：这一点我从来没有计较过。除了最初的一两天，我就再没往那上面想过。"
他像悲剧演员那样神情郁悒，缄口不语，他有意要让她感到，他悲不自胜，完全被感情的波澜冲垮了。
"菲利普，你知道我是很喜欢你的。只是有时候你有点叫人受不了。让咱们讲和吧。"
她扬起头，将自己的嘴唇凑了过去，菲利普如释重负地长叹一声，接住了她的吻。
"这下你高兴了吧？"她问。
"高兴极了。"
她向他道了晚安，然后沿着马路匆匆离去。第二天，他送给她一只小巧的怀表，表链上系有一枚胸针，可以别在外套上。这可是件她盼望已久的礼品。
但是过了三四天，米尔德丽德给他上茶点时对他说：
"你还记得那天晚上你答应过我的话吗？你说话算数的，是吗？"
"是的。"
他很清楚她指的是什么事，所以对她接下去要说的话已有了思想准备。
"今儿个晚上，我要跟上回在你面前提起过的那位先生外出一次。"
"好吧。但愿你能玩得尽兴。"
"你不介意，是吗？"
这会儿他不露声色，完全控制住了自己的感情。
"我当然不怎么乐意，"他微微一笑，"不过，我现在想尽量约束自己，不再乱发脾气了。"
一提到这次约会，她显得很兴奋，话也不觉多了起来。菲利普暗暗纳闷：她这么做，究竟是有意伤他的心呢，还是仅仅因为她生来就不懂得体恤别人的感情？他已经习惯于为她开脱，认为她的冷漠无情纯粹出于愚昧无知。她生性迟钝，伤了他的心自己还不知道。
"跟一个既无想象力又无幽默感的姑娘谈情说爱，实在没有多大的乐趣，"他一边听一边这么想。
不过，话又得说回来，也正由于她天生缺少这两种禀性，菲利普才不怎么见怪于她。要不，他哪能原谅她一而再、再而三地给自己带来痛苦呢。
"他已在蒂沃利剧院订了座，"她说。"他让我挑，我就挑了那家戏院。我们先要上皇家餐厅吃晚饭。他说那是全伦敦最阔气的一家馆子。"
"他可是个道道地地的上等人，"菲利普学着米尔德丽德的腔调，在肚里暗暗嘀咕了一句，但是他紧咬牙关，不吭一声。
菲利普也去了蒂沃利剧院，看到米尔德丽德他们坐在正厅前座第二排。她的同伴是个脸上滑溜溜的小伙子，头发梳得油光可鉴，衣着挺括，看上去像个跑码头的兜销员。米尔德丽德戴了一顶黑色阔边帽，上面插着几根鸵鸟羽毛，这种帽子她戴着倒挺适合。她听着那位东道主说话，脸上挂着菲利普所熟悉的那丝浅笑。她脸上的表情向来缺少生气，呆板得很。只有那种粗俗的滑稽笑料，才能逗得她哈哈大笑。不过，菲利普看得出来，她这会兴致很浓，听得津津有味。他酸溜溜地对自己说，她跟那个华而不实、爱说爱笑的同伴倒是天造地设的一对呢。米尔德丽德生性鲁钝，喜欢接近叽叽呱呱的浅薄之徒。菲利普虽说很喜欢同别人探讨各种问题，却并不擅长于空日闲聊。他的一些朋友，例如劳森，很有一套说笑逗趣的本事，兴致所至，插科打诨，谈笑风生，这常叫他钦佩不已。凡是他感兴趣的事，米尔德丽德偏偏觉得乏味。她希望听男人谈论足球和赛马，而菲利普对这两样恰恰一窍不通。能逗伊人展颜一笑的时髦话，他却一句也讲不出来，真是急死人。
菲利普一向迷信于印刷成册的出版物，现在为了给自己的言谈话语增添点儿情趣，便孜孜不倦地啃起《体育时报》来了。
He saw her then every day. He began going to lunch at the shop, but Mildred stopped him: she said it made the girls talk; so he had to content himself with tea; but he always waited about to walk with her to the station; and once or twice a week they dined together. He gave her little presents, a gold bangle, gloves, handkerchiefs, and the like. He was spending more than he could afford, but he could not help it: it was only when he gave her anything that she showed any affection. She knew the price of everything, and her gratitude was in exact proportion with the value of his gift. He did not care. He was too happy when she volunteered to kiss him to mind by what means he got her demonstrativeness. He discovered that she found Sundays at home tedious, so he went down to Herne Hill in the morning, met her at the end of the road, and went to church with her.
‘I always like to go to church once,’ she said. ‘it looks well, doesn’t it?’
Then she went back to dinner, he got a scrappy meal at a hotel, and in the afternoon they took a walk in Brockwell Park. They had nothing much to say to one another, and Philip, desperately afraid she was bored (she was very easily bored), racked his brain for topics of conversation. He realised that these walks amused neither of them, but he could not bear to leave her, and did all he could to lengthen them till she became tired and out of temper. He knew that she did not care for him, and he tried to force a love which his reason told him was not in her nature: she was cold. He had no claim on her, but he could not help being exacting. Now that they were more intimate he found it less easy to control his temper; he was often irritable and could not help saying bitter things. Often they quarrelled, and she would not speak to him for a while; but this always reduced him to subjection, and he crawled before her. He was angry with himself for showing so little dignity. He grew furiously jealous if he saw her speaking to any other man in the shop, and when he was jealous he seemed to be beside himself. He would deliberately insult her, leave the shop and spend afterwards a sleepless night tossing on his bed, by turns angry and remorseful. Next day he would go to the shop and appeal for forgiveness.
‘Don’t be angry with me,’ he said. ‘I’m so awfully fond of you that I can’t help myself.’
‘One of these days you’ll go too far,’ she answered.
He was anxious to come to her home in order that the greater intimacy should give him an advantage over the stray acquaintances she made during her working-hours; but she would not let him.
‘My aunt would think it so funny,’ she said.
He suspected that her refusal was due only to a disinclination to let him see her aunt. Mildred had represented her as the widow of a professional man (that was her formula of distinction), and was uneasily conscious that the good woman could hardly be called distinguished. Philip imagined that she was in point of fact the widow of a small tradesman. He knew that Mildred was a snob. But he found no means by which he could indicate to her that he did not mind how common the aunt was.
Their worst quarrel took place one evening at dinner when she told him that a man had asked her to go to a play with him. Philip turned pale, and his face grew hard and stern.
‘You’re not going?’ he said.
‘Why shouldn’t I? He’s a very nice gentlemanly fellow.’
‘I’ll take you anywhere you like.’
‘But that isn’t the same thing. I can’t always go about with you. Besides he’s asked me to fix my own day, and I’ll just go one evening when I’m not going out with you. It won’t make any difference to you.’
‘If you had any sense of decency, if you had any gratitude, you wouldn’t dream of going.’
‘I don’t know what you mean by gratitude. if you’re referring to the things you’ve given me you can have them back. I don’t want them.’
Her voice had the shrewish tone it sometimes got.
‘It’s not very lively, always going about with you. It’s always do you love me, do you love me, till I just get about sick of it.’
(He knew it was madness to go on asking her that, but he could not help himself.
‘Oh, I like you all right,’ she would answer.
‘Is that all? I love you with all my heart.’
‘I’m not that sort, I’m not one to say much.’
‘If you knew how happy just one word would make me!’
‘Well, what I always say is, people must take me as they find me, and if they don’t like it they can lump it.’
But sometimes she expressed herself more plainly still, and, when he asked the question, answered:
‘Oh, don’t go on at that again.’
Then he became sulky and silent. He hated her.)
And now he said:
‘Oh, well, if you feel like that about it I wonder you condescend to come out with me at all.’
‘It’s not my seeking, you can be very sure of that, you just force me to.’
His pride was bitterly hurt, and he answered madly.
‘You think I’m just good enough to stand you dinners and theatres when there’s no one else to do it, and when someone else turns up I can go to hell. Thank you, I’m about sick of being made a convenience.’
‘I’m not going to be talked to like that by anyone. I’ll just show you how much I want your dirty dinner.’
She got up, put on her jacket, and walked quickly out of the restaurant. Philip sat on. He determined he would not move, but ten minutes afterwards he jumped in a cab and followed her. He guessed that she would take a ‘bus to Victoria, so that they would arrive about the same time. He saw her on the platform, escaped her notice, and went down to Herne Hill in the same train. He did not want to speak to her till she was on the way home and could not escape him.
As soon as she had turned out of the main street, brightly lit and noisy with traffic, he caught her up.
‘Mildred,’ he called.
She walked on and would neither look at him nor answer. He repeated her name. Then she stopped and faced him.
‘What d’you want? I saw you hanging about Victoria. Why don’t you leave me alone?’
‘I’m awfully sorry. Won’t you make it up?’
‘No, I’m sick of your temper and your jealousy. I don’t care for you, I never have cared for you, and I never shall care for you. I don’t want to have anything more to do with you.’
She walked on quickly, and he had to hurry to keep up with her.
‘You never make allowances for me,’ he said. ‘It’s all very well to be jolly and amiable when you’re indifferent to anyone. It’s very hard when you’re as much in love as I am. Have mercy on me. I don’t mind that you don’t care for me. After all you can’t help it. I only want you to let me love you.’
She walked on, refusing to speak, and Philip saw with agony that they had only a few hundred yards to go before they reached her house. He abased himself. He poured out an incoherent story of love and penitence.
‘If you’ll only forgive me this time I promise you you’ll never have to complain of me in future. You can go out with whoever you choose. I’ll be only too glad if you’ll come with me when you’ve got nothing better to do.’
She stopped again, for they had reached the corner at which he always left her.
‘Now you can take yourself off. I won’t have you coming up to the door.’
‘I won’t go till you say you’ll forgive me.’
‘I’m sick and tired of the whole thing.’
He hesitated a moment, for he had an instinct that he could say something that would move her. It made him feel almost sick to utter the words.
‘It is cruel, I have so much to put up with. You don’t know what it is to be a cripple. Of course you don’t like me. I can’t expect you to.’
‘Philip, I didn’t mean that,’ she answered quickly, with a sudden break of pity in her voice. ‘You know it’s not true.’
He was beginning to act now, and his voice was husky and low.
‘Oh, I’ve felt it,’ he said.
She took his hand and looked at him, and her own eyes were filled with tears.
‘I promise you it never made any difference to me. I never thought about it after the first day or two.’
He kept a gloomy, tragic silence. He wanted her to think he was overcome with emotion.
‘You know I like you awfully, Philip. Only you are so trying sometimes. Let’s make it up.’
She put up her lips to his, and with a sigh of relief he kissed her.
‘Now are you happy again?’ she asked.
‘Madly"
She bade him good-night and hurried down the road. Next day he took her in a little watch with a brooch to pin on her dress. She had been hankering for it.
But three or four days later, when she brought him his tea, Mildred said to him:
‘You remember what you promised the other night? You mean to keep that, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
He knew exactly what she meant and was prepared for her next words.
‘Because I’m going out with that gentleman I told you about tonight.’
‘All right. I hope you’ll enjoy yourself.’
‘You don’t mind, do you?’
He had himself now under excellent control.
‘I don’t like it,’ he smiled, ‘but I’m not going to make myself more disagreeable than I can help.’
She was excited over the outing and talked about it willingly. Philip wondered whether she did so in order to pain him or merely because she was callous. He was in the habit of condoning her cruelty by the thought of her stupidity. She had not the brains to see when she was wounding him.
‘It’s not much fun to be in love with a girl who has no imagination and no sense of humour,’ he thought, as he listened.
But the want of these things excused her. He felt that if he had not realised this he could never forgive her for the pain she caused him.
‘He’s got seats for the Tivoli,’ she said. ‘He gave me my choice and I chose that. And we’re going to dine at the Cafe Royal. He says it’s the most expensive place in London.’
‘He’s a gentleman in every sense of the word,’ thought Philip, but he clenched his teeth to prevent himself from uttering a syllable.
Philip went to the Tivoli and saw Mildred with her companion, a smooth-faced young man with sleek hair and the spruce look of a commercial traveller, sitting in the second row of the stalls. Mildred wore a black picture hat with ostrich feathers in it, which became her well. She was listening to her host with that quiet smile which Philip knew; she had no vivacity of expression, and it required broad farce to excite her laughter; but Philip could see that she was interested and amused. He thought to himself bitterly that her companion, flashy and jovial, exactly suited her. Her sluggish temperament made her appreciate noisy people. Philip had a passion for discussion, but no talent for small-talk. He admired the easy drollery of which some of his friends were masters, Lawson for instance, and his sense of inferiority made him shy and awkward. The things which interested him bored Mildred. She expected men to talk about football and racing, and he knew nothing of either. He did not know the catchwords which only need be said to excite a laugh.
Printed matter had always been a fetish to Philip, and now, in order to make himself more interesting, he read industriously The Sporting Times.