Chapter 39
到了正月中旬，我的胡子留成了，这时冬季气候已很稳定，天天是明亮寒冷的白昼和凛冽的寒夜。我们又可以在山道上行走了。路上的积雪被运草的雪橇、装柴的雪车和从山上拖运下来的木材压挤得又结实又光滑。山野四下全给白雪遮盖，几乎一直遮盖到了蒙特勒。湖对面的高山一片雪白，罗纳河河谷的平原也给雪罩住了。我们到山的另一边去长途散步，直走到阿利亚兹温泉。凯瑟琳穿上有铁钉的靴子，披着披肩，拄着一根尾端有尖尖的钢包头的拐杖。她披着披肩，肚子看上去并不大，不过我们并不走得太快，她一疲乏，就在路边木材堆上休息休息。
阿利亚兹温泉的树丛间有家小酒店，是樵夫们歇脚喝酒的地方，我们也去坐在里边，一边烤炉子一边喝热的红葡萄酒，酒里面放有香料和柠檬。他们管这种酒叫格鲁怀因，拿这酒来取暖和庆祝取乐，那是再好也没有了。酒店里很暗，烟雾弥漫，后来一出门，冷空气猛然钻入胸腔，鼻尖冻得发麻。我们回头一望，看见酒店窗口射出来的灯光和樵夫们的马匹，那些牲口正在外边蹬脚摆头，抵御寒冷。马的口鼻部的汗毛结了霜，它们呼出的空气变成了一缕缕白气。回家上山的道路先是平整而滑溜，冰雪给马匹践踏成为橙黄色，这样一直到拖运木材的路与山道相交的地方。然后走到了盖着干干净净的白雪的山道上，穿过一些树林。傍晚回家的途上，我们两次见到了狐狸。
山居的景致很好，我们每次出去，都是尽兴而归。
“你现在胡子长得相当好看了，”凯瑟琳说。“跟樵夫们一式一样。你看到那个戴着小小的金耳环的男子没有？”
“他是个打小羚羊的猎人，”我说。“他们戴耳环，据说可以听得清楚一点。”
“真的？我不相信。依我看，戴耳环的目的只在于要人家知道他们是打羚羊的。附近有没有小羚羊？”
“有的，就在唐都贾蒙山后。”
“看到狐狸真有趣。”
“狐狸睡的时候，用尾巴缠住了身体取暖。”
“那一定是一种美好的感觉。”
“我老是想要有这么一条尾巴。我们要是有狐狸尾巴，岂不是怪有趣吗？”
“穿衣服可很困难。”
“我们定做特别的衣服，或者到一个不受拘束的国家去居住。”“我们现在这个地方就一点也不受人家的拘束。我们什么人都不见，岂不是挺好吗？你不想见人，对吧，亲爱的？”
“不想。”
“我们就坐在这儿休息一下好吗？我有点儿累了。”
我们就互相偎依着坐在木材上。山道向前穿过森林，往下面延伸。
“她不至于叫我们隔膜的吧？那个小淘气鬼。”
“不会的。我们不让她使我们有隔膜。”
“我们的钱怎么样？”
“我们有的是。他们承兑了我最近那张见票即付的支票。”“你现在人在瑞士，家里人知道了不会想法子找你吗？”
“也许吧。我要给他们写封信去。”
“你还没有写过吗？”
“没有。我只是开了张见票即付的支票。”
“谢天谢地，我不是你家里的人。”
“我发个电报给他们吧。”
“你跟他们完全没有感情吗？”
“本来还好，不过吵架吵得多，感情就淡薄了。”
“我想我会欢喜他们的。我大概会非常喜欢他们的。”
“别谈他们吧，一谈起来我就会操心啦。”过了一会我说，“我们走吧，要是你休息好了的话。”
“我休息好了。”
我们又在山道上走。现在天黑了，靴底下的雪吱吱作响。夜里又干又冷，非常清朗。
“我爱你的胡子，”凯瑟琳说。“这是个大成功。看起来又硬又凶狠，其实很软，非常好玩。”
“你更喜欢留胡子的我？”
“大概是吧。你知道，亲爱的，我要等到小凯瑟琳出生后再去剪发。我现在肚子太大，太像太太奶奶了。等她出生后，我人又瘦下来，我就去剪发，那时我会成为你的一个新奇而不同的女郎。我剪发时我们一起去，不，还是我独自个儿去，回来让你惊奇一下。”
我没说什么。
“你不会说我不可以剪发的吧？”
“不会的。一定很叫人兴奋。”
“哦，你太可爱了。到了那时，也许我又长得好看，亲爱的，又纤瘦又讨人欢喜，弄得你重新爱上了我。”
“该死，”我说。“我现在爱你已很够了，你要把我怎么样？毁坏我？”
“是的。我是要毁坏你。”
“好，”我说，“我要的正是这个。”
By the middle of January I had a beard and the winter had settled into bright cold days and hard cold nights. We could walk on the roads again. The snow was packed hard and smooth by the hay-sleds and wood-sledges and the logs that were hauled down the mountain. The snow lay over all the country, down almost to Montreux. The mountains on the other side of the lake were all white and the plain of the Rhone Valley was covered. We took long walks on the other side of the mountain to the Bains de l'Alliaz. Catherine wore hobnailed boots and a cape and carried a stick with a sharp steel point. She did not look big with the cape and we would not walk too fast but stopped and sat on logs by the roadside to rest when she was tired.
There was an inn in the trees at the Bains de l'Alliaz where the woodcutters stopped to drink, and we sat inside warmed by the stove and drank hot red wine with spices and lemon in it. They called it gluhwein and it was a good thing to warm you and to celebrate with. The inn was dark and smoky inside and afterward when you went out the cold air came sharply into your lungs and numbed the edge of your nose as you inhaled. We looked back at the inn with light coming from the windows and the woodcutters' horses stamping and jerking their heads outside to keep warm. There was frost on the hairs of their muzzles and their breathing made plumes of frost in the air. Going up the road toward home the road was smooth and slippery for a while and the ice orange from the horses until the wood-hauling track turned off. Then the road was clean-packed snow and led through the woods, and twice coming home in the evening, we saw foxes.
It was a fine country and every time that we went out it was fun.
"You have a splendid beard now," Catherine said. "It looks just like the woodcutters'. Did you see the man with the tiny gold earrings?"
"He's a chamois hunter," I said. "They wear them because they say it makes them hear better."
"Really? I don't believe it. I think they wear them to show they are chamois hunters. Are there chamois near here?"
"Yes, beyond the Dent de Jaman."
"It was fun seeing the fox."
"When he sleeps he wraps that tail around him to keep warm."
"It must be a lovely feeling."
"I always wanted to have a tail like that. Wouldn't it be fun if we had brushes like a fox?"
"It might be very difficult dressing."
"We'd have clothes made, or live in a country where it wouldn't make any difference."
"We live in a country where nothing makes any difference. Isn't it grand how we never see any one? You don't want to see people do you, darling?"
"No."
"Should we sit here just a minute? I'm a little bit tired."
We sat close together on the logs. Ahead the road went down through the forest.
"She won't come between us, will she? The little brat."
"No. We won't let her."
"How are we for money?"
"We have plenty. They honored the last sight draft."
"Won't your family try and get hold of you now they know you're in Switzerland?"
"Probably. I'll write them something."
"Haven't you written them?"
"No. Only the sight draft."
"Thank God I'm not your family."
"I'll send them a cable."
"Don't you care anything about them?"
"I did, but we quarrelled so much it wore itself out."
"I think I'd like them. I'd probably like them very much."
"Let's not talk about them or I'll start to worry about them." After a while I said, "Let's go on if you're rested."
"I'm rested."
We went on down the road. It was dark now and the snow squeaked under our boots. The night was dry and cold and very clear.
"I love your beard," Catherine said. "It's a great success. It looks so stiff and fierce and it's very soft and a great pleasure."
"Do you like it better than without?"
"I think so. You know, darling, I'm not going to cut my hair now until after young Catherine's born. I look too big and matronly now. But after she's born and I'm thin again I'm going to cut it and then I'll be a fine new and different girl for you. We'll go together and get it cut, or I'll go alone and come and surprise you."
I did not say anything.
"You won't say I can't, will you?"
"No. I think it would be exciting."
"Oh, you're so sweet. And maybe I'd look lovely, darling, and be so thin and exciting to you and you'll fall in love with me all over again."
"Hell," I said, "I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?"
"Yes. I want to ruin you."
"Good," I said, "that's what I want too."