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Chapter 1

It was the first Saturday afternoon in August; it had been broiling hot all day, with a cloudless sky, and the sun had been beating down on the houses, so that the top rooms were like ovens; but now with the approach of evening it was cooler, and everyone in Vere Street was out of doors.

Vere street, Lambeth, is a short, straight street leading out of the Westminster Bridge Road; it has forty houses on one side and forty houses on the other, and these eighty houses are very much more like one another than ever peas are like peas, or young ladies like young ladies. They are newish, three-storied buildings of dingy grey brick with slate roofs, and they are perfectly flat, without a bow-window or even a projecting cornice or window-sill to break the straightness of the line from one end of the street to the other.

This Saturday afternoon the street was full of life; no traffic came down Vere Street, and the cemented space between the pavements was given up to children. Several games of cricket were being played by wildly excited boys, using coats for wickets, an old tennis-ball or a bundle of rags tied together for a ball, and, generally, an old broomstick for bat. The wicket was so large and the bat so small that the man in was always getting bowled, when heated quarrels would arise, the batter absolutely refusing to go out and the bowler absolutely insisting on going in. The girls were more peaceable; they were chiefly employed in skipping, and only abused one another mildly when the rope was not properly turned or the skipper did not jump sufficiently high. Worst off of all were the very young children, for there had been no rain for weeks, and the street was as dry and clean as a covered court, and, in the lack of mud to wallow in, they sat about the road, disconsolate as poets. The number of babies was prodigious; they sprawled about everywhere, on the pavement, round the doors, and about their mothers' skirts. The grown-ups were gathered round the open doors; there were usually two women squatting on the doorstep, and two or three more seated on either side on chairs; they were invariably nursing babies, and most of them showed clear signs that the present object of the maternal care would be soon ousted by a new arrival. Men were less numerous but such as there were leant against the walls, smoking, or sat on the sills of the ground-floor windows. It was the dead season in Vere Street as much as in Belgravia, and really if it had not been for babies just come or just about to come, and an opportune murder in a neighbouring doss-house, there would have been nothing whatever to talk about. As it was, the little groups talked quietly, discussing the atrocity or the merits of the local midwives, comparing the circumstances of their various confinements.

'You'll be 'avin' your little trouble soon, eh, Polly?' asked one good lady of another.

'Oh, I reckon I've got another two months ter go yet,' answered Polly.

'Well,' said a third. 'I wouldn't 'ave thought you'd go so long by the look of yer!'

'I 'ope you'll have it easier this time, my dear,' said a very stout old person, a woman of great importance.

'She said she wasn't goin' to 'ave no more, when the last one come.' This remark came from Polly's husband.

'Ah,' said the stout old lady, who was in the business, and boasted vast experience. 'That's wot they all says; but, Lor' bless yer, they don't mean it.'

'Well, I've got three, and I'm not goin' to 'ave no more bli'me if I will; 'tain't good enough--that's wot I says.'

'You're abaht right there, ole gal,' said Polly, 'My word, 'Arry, if you 'ave any more I'll git a divorce, that I will.'

At that moment an organ-grinder turned the corner and came down the street.

'Good biz; 'ere's an organ!' cried half a dozen people at once.

The organ-man was an Italian, with a shock of black hair and a ferocious moustache. Drawing his organ to a favourable spot, he stopped, released his shoulder from the leather straps by which he dragged it, and cocking his large soft hat on the side of his head, began turning the handle. It was a lively tune, and in less than no time a little crowd had gathered round to listen, chiefly the young men and the maidens, for the married ladies were never in a fit state to dance, and therefore disinclined to trouble themselves to stand round the organ. There was a moment's hesitation at opening the ball; then one girl said to another:

'Come on, Florrie, you and me ain't shy; we'll begin, and bust it!'

The two girls took hold of one another, one acting gentleman, the other lady; three or four more pairs of girls immediately joined them, and they began a waltz. They held themselves very upright; and with an air of grave dignity which was quite impressive, glided slowly about, making their steps with the utmost precision, bearing themselves with sufficient decorum for a court ball. After a while the men began to itch for a turn, and two of them, taking hold of one another in the most approved fashion, waltzed round the circle with the gravity of judges.

All at once there was a cry: 'There's Liza!' And several members of the group turned and called out: 'Oo, look at Liza!'

The dancers stopped to see the sight, and the organ-grinder, having come to the end of his tune, ceased turning the handle and looked to see what was the excitement.

'Oo, Liza!' they called out. 'Look at Liza; oo, I sy!'

It was a young girl of about eighteen, with dark eyes, and an enormous fringe, puffed-out and curled and frizzed, covering her whole forehead from side to side, and coming down to meet her eyebrows. She was dressed in brilliant violet, with great lappets of velvet, and she had on her head an enormous black hat covered with feathers.

'I sy, ain't she got up dossy?' called out the groups at the doors, as she passed.

'Dressed ter death, and kill the fashion; that's wot I calls it.'

Liza saw what a sensation she was creating; she arched her back and lifted her head, and walked down the street, swaying her body from side to side, and swaggering along as though the whole place belonged to her.

''Ave yer bought the street, Bill?' shouted one youth; and then half a dozen burst forth at once, as if by inspiration:

'Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road!'

It was immediately taken up by a dozen more, and they all yelled it out:

'Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road. Yah, ah, knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road!'

'Oo, Liza!' they shouted; the whole street joined in, and they gave long, shrill, ear-piercing shrieks and strange calls, that rung down the street and echoed back again.

'Hextra special!' called out a wag.

'Oh, Liza! Oo! Ooo!' yells and whistles, and then it thundered forth again:

'Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road!'

Liza put on the air of a conquering hero, and sauntered on, enchanted at the uproar. She stuck out her elbows and jerked her head on one side, and said to herself as she passed through the bellowing crowd:

'This is jam!'

'Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road!'

When she came to the group round the barrel-organ, one of the girls cried out to her:

'Is that yer new dress, Liza?'

'Well, it don't look like my old one, do it?' said Liza.

'Where did yer git it?' asked another friend, rather enviously.

'Picked it up in the street, of course,' scornfully answered Liza.

'I believe it's the same one as I saw in the pawnbroker's dahn the road,' said one of the men, to tease her.

'Thet's it; but wot was you doin' in there? Pledgin' yer shirt, or was it yer trousers?'

'Yah, I wouldn't git a second-'and dress at a pawnbroker's!'

'Garn!' said Liza indignantly. 'I'll swipe yer over the snitch if yer talk ter me. I got the mayterials in the West Hend, didn't I? And I 'ad it mide up by my Court Dressmiker, so you jolly well dry up, old jellybelly.'

'Garn!' was the reply.

Liza had been so intent on her new dress and the comment it was exciting that she had not noticed the organ.

'Oo, I say, let's 'ave some dancin',' she said as soon as she saw it. 'Come on, Sally,' she added, to one of the girls, 'you an' me'll dance togither. Grind away, old cock!'

The man turned on a new tune, and the organ began to play the Intermezzo from the 'Cavalleria'; other couples quickly followed Liza's example, and they began to waltz round with the same solemnity as before; but Liza outdid them all; if the others were as stately as queens, she was as stately as an empress; the gravity and dignity with which she waltzed were something appalling, you felt that the minuet was a frolic in comparison; it would have been a fitting measure to tread round the grave of a _premiere danseuse_, or at the funeral of a professional humorist. And the graces she put on, the languor of the eyes, the contemptuous curl of the lips, the exquisite turn of the hand, the dainty arching of the foot! You felt there could be no questioning her right to the tyranny of Vere Street.

Suddenly she stopped short, and disengaged herself from her companion.

'Oh, I sy,' she said, 'this is too bloomin' slow; it gives me the sick.'

That is not precisely what she said, but it is impossible always to give the exact unexpurgated words of Liza and the other personages of the story, the reader is therefore entreated with his thoughts to piece out the necessary imperfections of the dialogue.

'It's too bloomin' slow,' she said again; 'it gives me the sick. Let's 'ave somethin' a bit more lively than this 'ere waltz. You stand over there, Sally, an' we'll show 'em 'ow ter skirt dance.'

They all stopped waltzing.

'Talk of the ballet at the Canterbury and South London. You just wite till you see the ballet at Vere Street, Lambeth--we'll knock 'em!'

She went up to the organ-grinder.

'Na then, Italiano,' she said to him, 'you buck up; give us a tune that's got some guts in it! See?'

She caught hold of his big hat and squashed it down over his eyes. The man grinned from ear to ear, and, touching the little catch at the side, began to play a lively tune such as Liza had asked for.

The men had fallen out, but several girls had put themselves in position, in couples, standing face to face; and immediately the music struck up, they began. They held up their skirts on each side, so as to show their feet, and proceeded to go through the difficult steps and motions of the dance. Liza was right; they could not have done it better in a trained ballet. But the best dancer of them all was Liza; she threw her whole soul into it; forgetting the stiff bearing which she had thought proper to the waltz, and casting off its elaborate graces, she gave herself up entirely to the present pleasure. Gradually the other couples stood aside, so that Liza and Sally were left alone. They paced it carefully, watching each other's steps, and as if by instinct performing corresponding movements, so as to make the whole a thing of symmetry.

'I'm abaht done,' said Sally, blowing and puffing. 'I've 'ad enough of it.'

'Go on, Liza!' cried out a dozen voices when Sally stopped.

She gave no sign of having heard them other than calmly to continue her dance. She glided through the steps, and swayed about, and manipulated her skirt, all with the most charming grace imaginable, then, the music altering, she changed the style of her dancing, her feet moved more quickly, and did not keep so strictly to the ground. She was getting excited at the admiration of the onlookers, and her dance grew wilder and more daring. She lifted her skirts higher, brought in new and more difficult movements into her improvisation, kicking up her legs she did the wonderful twist, backwards and forwards, of which the dancer is proud.

'Look at 'er legs!' cried one of the men.

'Look at 'er stockin's!' shouted another; and indeed they were remarkable, for Liza had chosen them of the same brilliant hue as her dress, and was herself most proud of the harmony.

Her dance became gayer: her feet scarcely touched the ground, she whirled round madly.

'Take care yer don't split!' cried out one of the wags, at a very audacious kick.

The words were hardly out of his mouth when Liza, with a gigantic effort, raised her foot and kicked off his hat. The feat was greeted with applause, and she went on, making turns and twists, flourishing her skirts, kicking higher and higher, and finally, among a volley of shouts, fell on her hands and turned head over heels in a magnificent catharine-wheel; then scrambling to her feet again, she tumbled into the arms of a young man standing in the front of the ring.

'That's right, Liza,' he said. 'Give us a kiss, now,' and promptly tried to take one.

'Git aht!' said Liza, pushing him away, not too gently.

'Yus, give us a kiss,' cried another, running up to her.

'I'll smack yer in the fice!' said Liza, elegantly, as she dodged him.

'Ketch 'old on 'er, Bill,' cried out a third, 'an' we'll all kiss her.'

'Na, you won't!' shrieked Liza, beginning to run.

'Come on,' they cried, 'we'll ketch 'er.'

She dodged in and out, between their legs, under their arms, and then, getting clear of the little crowd, caught up her skirts so that they might not hinder her, and took to her heels along the street. A score of men set in chase, whistling, shouting, yelling; the people at the doors looked up to see the fun, and cried out to her as she dashed past; she ran like the wind. Suddenly a man from the side darted into the middle of the road, stood straight in her way, and before she knew where she was, she had jumped shrieking into his arms, and he, lifting her up to him, had imprinted two sounding kisses on her cheeks.

'Oh, you ----!' she said. Her expression was quite unprintable; nor can it be euphemized.

There was a shout of laughter from the bystanders, and the young men in chase of her, and Liza, looking up, saw a big, bearded man whom she had never seen before. She blushed to the very roots of her hair, quickly extricated herself from his arms, and, amid the jeers and laughter of everyone, slid into the door of the nearest house and was lost to view.

八月的第二个星期六下午。那天从早晨就热得火辣辣的I碧空无云，太阳逼在屋顶上，顶层的房间热得象火坑。可是此刻随着黄昏的来临，天气凉快了些，维尔街上住的每一个人都跑到了门外来。

兰贝斯区注的维尔街是威斯敏斯特桥大道岔出来的一条短而直的小街，两旁一边有四十幢房子，另一边也是四十幢。这八十幢房子的模样都差不多，比一颗颗豌豆、一个个姑娘更彼此相似。这些房屋是用暗淡的灰色砖砌的三层楼房，还不很陈旧，屋顶是石板盖的。两排房屋的正面截平，没有凸肚窗，甚至没有檐口或窗盘冲破这条小街从头至尾一直线的平整。

这个星期六的下午，街上热闹得很。没有车辆开到维尔街来，人行道之间的水泥马路上全是孩子们在玩。喧嚣的男孩子们分了几摊在打板球。他们脱下外套，堆成了球门，用旧网球或者扎起一束破布作球儿，还往往用旧扫帚柄当球棒。球门那么宽，球棒又那么细，所以击球手弄不好就得退场。但是击球手坚决不肯出去，而投球手坚持定要进来，于是激烈争吵起来。

女孩子们比较文静。她们主要是跳绳，只有在绳子挥得不好，或者跳的人跳得不够高时，才彼此稍微埋怨两声。

最苦恼的是那些年龄很小的孩子们，因为连着几个星期没有下雨，街上干干的，清洁得象有棚顶的院子，没有泥浆给他们在里面打滚，只好在马路上三三两两呆坐着，象诗人一样忧忧郁郁的。

婴孩可多啦，他们在人行道上、在一家家门口、在他们母亲的裙脚底下到处乱爬。

成年入团聚在一些敞开的大门口，往往是两个女的蹲坐在门前石阶上，两旁各有两、三个坐在椅子上。她们总是抱着小宝宝，而且清楚地看得出，她们中间大多数现在的心肝宝贝不久将被新生的所排斥。男人没有女人多，可是在那里的男人们不是靠在墙上抽着烟，就是坐在底层窗口的石槛上。

这时候的维尔街同贝尔格雷维亚注一样，不是在社交季节，的确要不是有那些刚生下和即将生下的婴孩们和附近小客栈里正好发生的杀人事件，他们简直没有谈话的资料。事实上，一小圈一小圈的人都悄悄地交谈着，议论当地的接生婆是残酷还是有她们的用处，相互比较各人每次分娩的情况。

“你不久又要吃点小苦头啦，是不是，波莉？”一个好心的女人问另一个。

“哦，我算算还有两个月哪，”波莉回答。

“不过，”第三个说，“我看你样子，原以为你就快生了。”

“我希望你这回生得顺当些，我亲爱的”，一个健壮而很有威望的老太太说。

“她上回生了那个，原说再也不要生孩子了。”波莉的丈夫插嘴说。

“啊，”那个健壮的老太太对此最在行，常夸耀自己的丰富经验，她说，“她们都是那么说的；可是，上帝保佑，有哪个照着做的？”

“不过我已经有了三个，我可真不要再生孩子了，杀我头也不生；再生下去不得了——我是那么说。”

“你这话说得对了，好阿姨，”波莉说。“说真的，哈利，你再要我生孩子，我准跟你离婚，我说了算。”

正在这时候，一个摇风琴的卖艺人拐着弯儿朝这条小街上走来了。

“好哇，风琴来了！”六七个人同时叫喊起来。

那摇风琴的是个意大利人，一头蓬松的黑头发，嘴上盖着一小簇浓密的胡子。他把风琴拖到一个合适的地方，站定了下来，把拖风琴的皮带从肩胛上卸了下来，顺手把他柔软的大帽子往半边头上一侧，开始摇动起风琴的摇柄来。

他奏的是一支轻快的曲子，不一会一小群人就聚拢来听了，主要是年轻小伙子和姑娘们，因为已经结了婚的女人再也不适宜跳舞，所以无意去挨在风琴周围凑热闹。起初大家犹豫了一会，舞会没有就开始；随后有一个姑娘对另一个说一一

“来吧，弗洛莉，你和我不是忸忸怩怩的；我们来开个头，来！”

两个姑娘互相抱住，一个作男的，一个作女的；另外三、四对姑娘马上跟上了她们，一起跳起华尔兹来。她们身子挺直，非常庄重严肃，缓慢地滑动着，步子极其准确，文雅得足以适应宫廷舞会。过了一会，男人们脚痒起来，其中两个用最标准的姿势相互搭起跳舞的架子，象法官般地庄严，绕着圈子也跳起华尔兹来。

突然一声叫喊：“丽莎来了！”人群中有几个回过头去，大声嚷道：“嗬——瞧丽莎！”

在跳舞的人也停下来看她的丰姿，摇风琴的摇完了这一曲，也停了下来，瞧是什么叫人这样激动的。

“嗬——丽莎！”他们齐声号叫。“瞧丽莎；嗬——瞧啊！”

来的是一个约莫十八岁的年轻姑娘，黑眼珠，蓬松而鬈曲的刘海遮掩着整个前额，直垂在眉毛处。她穿着一身鲜艳的紫罗兰色的衣裳，飘舞着宽阔的丝绒裙边，头上戴着一顶插满羽毛的黑色大帽子。

“瞧，她打扮得多漂亮！”她走过人家门口的时候，门口的人群中发出了这样的叫喊。

“穿着漂亮极了，我说是盖了帽了。”

丽莎看到自己所引起的震动；她把身子稍稍向前倾，一摇一摆，昂首阔步朝街上走来，扬扬得意，仿佛整个这块天地是属于她的。

“你把这条街买下来了吗，比尔？”一个小伙子喊道；接着六七个小伙子似乎得到了灵感，立即齐声高呼一

“压倒了老肯特大道上的娘儿们注！”

一下子另外六七个小伙子接了上来，他们一起尽着嗓子大叫——

“压倒了老肯特大道上的娘儿们！嗨，嗨，压倒了老肯特大道上的娘儿们！”

“嗬——丽莎！”他们呼唤；整个街道的人们合成一气，发出长长的刺耳的尖叫和呼啸，从小街的这一头传到那一头，又从那一头传回到这一头。

“妙得出奇！”一个爱说笑话的人说。

“嗨，丽莎！嗬——！嗬——！”一片叫喊声和口哨声，然后又是雷声般地响起了——

“压倒了老肯特大道上的娘儿们！’’

丽莎摆出征服一切英雄的神气，踱步前来，陶醉在喧闹的呼声之中。她撑起臂肘子，侧着头，在人丛中一路走过去，心想——

“够味儿！”

“压倒了老肯特大道上的娘儿们！”

当她走到风琴周围的人群时，有个姑娘大声问她一

“这是你的新衣裳吗，丽莎？”

“怎么，不象是旧的吧，”丽莎说。

“哪儿来的？”另一个朋友带着妒忌的口气问她。

“街上拾来的，还有哪儿来！”丽莎鄙夷地回答她。

“这套衣裳正是我在威斯敏斯特桥大道的当铺里看到过的，”一个男人有意说这话逗弄她。

“是啊；不过你在那里干什么？是在当你的衬衫，还是裤子？”

“哼，我才不要在当铺里买旧衣裳哩！”

“见你的鬼！”丽莎愤怒地说。“你再跟我噜苏，我给你个嘴巴子。我这衣裳，料子是西区注买来的，叫我的宫廷服装师给我做的，这下你可以少耍贫嘴了，朋友。”

“去你的！”那个人回答。

丽莎一心关注着她的新衣裳和它所引起的议论，所以没注意到那个风琴。

“噢——风琴，嗨，我们来跳一会舞吧，”她一看见风琴，嚷道。“来啊，萨莉，”她随即对一个姑娘说，“你跟我一起跳。风琴摇起来，老头儿！”

那个人换了一支新的曲子，风琴开始奏起《乡村骑士》注中的《间奏曲》。另外的一对对很快就跟着丽莎一块跳起来，她们同先前一样庄严地开始绕着圈子跳华尔兹；然而丽莎卓然不同于众，如果说别人雍容大方如女王，那她是仪表万千如女皇。她跳华尔兹的平稳和端庄令人震惊，在对比之下，你会觉得法国式的小步舞简直是开玩笑；那该是适合于在舞蹈明星的坟墓周围或者职业幽默家的葬礼上跳的舞步。她的优雅的丰姿，眼睛里迷惘的神情，翘起的嘴唇上的轻蔑的表情，手轻轻的一转，脚微微的一侧：多美啊！你不由得承认，她确有十足的权利称霸于维尔街上。

她忽地停了下来，摆脱了她的舞伴。

“啊，”她说，“这曲子慢得要死，我都要呕出来了。”

这并不是她的原话，不过丽莎和这个故事中其他人物所说的原话，要全部准确写出来，也不大可能；因此还得要求读者运用自己的想象力，去补足这些对话中不得已的失真之处。

“曲子太慢，’’她又说了一遍；“我都要呕出来了。给我们奏点比这支华尔兹更轻快些的。你站到那边去，萨莉，我们来给她们看看怎么跳长裙舞。注”

他们都停止了跳华尔兹。

“讲什么坎特伯雷和伦敦南区的芭蕾舞。你们等着瞧兰贝斯区维尔街的芭蕾舞吧——我们要压倒它们！”

她走到摇风琴的跟前。

“喂，意大利朋友，”她对他说，“快点，给我们来一支有劲些的曲子！懂吗？”

她抓起他的大帽子，压在他的眼睛上。那个人咧着嘴笑起来，把压着眼睛的帽子往一边推开些，开始奏起丽莎要求的那种轻快的曲子。

男人们退了下去，而几个姑娘站好了位置，一对对面对面的。音乐一响，她们就翩翩起舞了。她们双手拎起裙子的两边，让大家能看她们的脚。她们按着拍子表演这种舞蹈的很难跳的步子和很难做的动作。丽莎说得不错；专门训练过的芭蕾舞演员也未必比她们跳得好。而她们中间跳得最出色的是丽莎。她全神贯注，忘却了她认为跳华尔兹时应该保持的端正姿势，屏弃了华尔兹的复杂的优雅步法，完全纵情于此时此刻的欢乐。

渐渐地，其余的一对对站到了一边去，只剩下丽莎和萨莉两个。她们跳得很认真，相互盯着对方的脚步，似乎出于本能似地，每个动作都配合得非常协调，整个舞蹈显得无限地谐和。

“我快透不过气来了，”萨莉气喘吁吁地说。“我吃不消啦。”

“再跳下去，丽莎！”当萨莉停下来时，几个声音高喊着。

她仿佛没听见他们的叫喊，只是悠然继续她的舞蹈。她顺着拍子跳去，飘飘然宛如在往还滑翔，一面挥动着她的裙子，一切都是不可思议地美妙。过了一会，音乐转了，她的舞蹈风格随之变换，脚步加速，时而飘离地面。

她为周围观看的人的赞赏而感奋，越跳越奔放、越大胆。她把裙子提得更高，即兴地插入新的更难的动作，踢起腿，向前向后地摆动，做出了舞蹈家据以自豪的奇妙花样。

“瞧她的大腿I’’男人中间有一个叫道。

“瞧她的长统袜！”另一个叫道I的确，这双袜子很漂亮，因为丽莎是拣了和衣裳一样鲜艳的颜色，自己也为它们颜色配得恰当而非常得意。

她的舞越跳越欢，双脚常腾空，还疯狂地旋转。

“当心别绷开了！”那些爱开玩笑的人中的一个看见她特别大胆地踢起一条腿时，哇的叫道。

这话刚出口，丽莎猛力举起脚来，一脚踢掉了他的帽子。这一绝招博得了一片彩声。

她继续跳舞，又是旋转，又是扭动，裙子摆弄出各种花样，腿越踢越高，终于在一阵叫嚷声中，双手往地上一撑，来了个出色的侧翻筋斗，再匆促站起，闯进在圈子前排站着的一个小伙子的怀里。

“那才是，丽莎，”他说。“给我亲个嘴，这回，”说着迅快地想去吻她。

“滚开！”丽莎说着，不太客气地将他一把推开了。

“对，给我亲个嘴．”另一个奔上前去，大声说。

“我给你吃耳光！”她灵巧地闪避过他。

“抓住她，比尔．”第三个喊道，“我们大家来亲她个嘴。”

“不，你们休想！”丽莎尖声叫道，一边拔脚就逃。

“大家来，”他们叫着，“抓住她。”

她从他们大腿底下、胳膊底下，竭力闪避，终于摆脱了这批家伙，提起裙子，不让绊脚，拚命沿着小街逃去。有十来个人追赶着，吹着口哨，叫着，喊着。一家家门口的人看得好看，一路上大声呼唤她。她奔得象阵风那么快。

忽然路旁有个人冲到街道中央，扑面挡住了她的去路。她自己也不知道是怎么回事，尖叫着扑倒在他的怀里。而他，捧起她的脸，就在她两面面颊上出声地吻了两下。

“啊，你这——！”她说。她这话实在不宜刊印出来，也没法换上个比较雅致的词儿。

旁观的人和那些在追赶她的人哗然大笑，丽莎抬头看时，只见一个她从没看见过的长大胡子的高大汉子。她面孔红到头发根，迅速从他怀抱里挣脱出来，在众人的嘲笑声中，溜进了就近一所房子里，躲藏了起来。

引用

Chapter 2

Liza and her mother were having supper. Mrs. Kemp was an elderly woman, short, and rather stout, with a red face, and grey hair brushed tight back over her forehead. She had been a widow for many years, and since her husband's death had lived with Liza in the ground-floor front room in which they were now sitting. Her husband had been a soldier, and from a grateful country she received a pension large enough to keep her from starvation, and by charring and doing such odd jobs as she could get she earned a little extra to supply herself with liquor. Liza was able to make her own living by working at a factory.

Mrs. Kemp was rather sulky this evening.

'Wot was yer doin' this afternoon, Liza?' she asked.

'I was in the street.'

'You're always in the street when I want yer.'

'I didn't know as 'ow yer wanted me, mother,' answered Liza.

'Well, yer might 'ave come ter see! I might 'ave been dead, for all you knew.'

Liza said nothing.

'My rheumatics was thet bad to-dy, thet I didn't know wot ter do with myself. The doctor said I was to be rubbed with that stuff 'e give me, but yer won't never do nothin' for me.'

'Well, mother,' said Liza, 'your rheumatics was all right yesterday.'

'I know wot you was doin'; you was showin' off thet new dress of yours. Pretty waste of money thet is, instead of givin' it me ter sive up. An' for the matter of thet, I wanted a new dress far worse than you did. But, of course, I don't matter.'

Liza did not answer, and Mrs. Kemp, having nothing more to say, continued her supper in silence.

It was Liza who spoke next.

'There's some new people moved in the street. 'Ave you seen 'em?' she asked.

'No, wot are they?'

'I dunno; I've seen a chap, a big chap with a beard. I think 'e lives up at the other end.'

She felt herself blushing a little.

'No one any good you be sure,' said Mrs. Kemp. 'I can't swaller these new people as are comin' in; the street ain't wot it was when I fust come.'

When they had done, Mrs. Kemp got up, and having finished her half-pint of beer, said to her daughter:

'Put the things awy, Liza. I'm just goin' round to see Mrs. Clayton; she's just 'ad twins, and she 'ad nine before these come. It's a pity the Lord don't see fit ter tike some on 'em--thet's wot I say.'

After which pious remark Mrs. Kemp went out of the house and turned into another a few doors up.

Liza did not clear the supper things away as she was told, but opened the window and drew her chair to it. She leant on the sill, looking out into the street. The sun had set, and it was twilight, the sky was growing dark, bringing to view the twinkling stars; there was no breeze, but it was pleasantly and restfully cool. The good folk still sat at their doorsteps, talking as before on the same inexhaustible subjects, but a little subdued with the approach of night. The boys were still playing cricket, but they were mostly at the other end of the street, and their shouts were muffled before they reached Liza's ears.

She sat, leaning her head on her hands, breathing in the fresh air and feeling a certain exquisite sense of peacefulness which she was not used to. It was Saturday evening, and she thankfully remembered that there would be no factory on the morrow; she was glad to rest. Somehow she felt a little tired, perhaps it was through the excitement of the afternoon, and she enjoyed the quietness of the evening. It seemed so tranquil and still; the silence filled her with a strange delight, she felt as if she could sit there all through the night looking out into the cool, dark street, and up heavenwards at the stars. She was very happy, but yet at the same time experienced a strange new sensation of melancholy, and she almost wished to cry.

Suddenly a dark form stepped in front of the open window. She gave a little shriek.

''Oo's thet?' she asked, for it was quite dark, and she did not recognize the man standing in front of her.

'Me, Liza,' was the answer.

'Tom?'

'Yus!'

It was a young man with light yellow hair and a little fair moustache, which made him appear almost boyish; he was light-complexioned and blue-eyed, and had a frank and pleasant look mingled with a curious bashfulness that made him blush when people spoke to him.

'Wot's up?' asked Liza.

'Come aht for a walk, Liza, will yer?'

'No!' she answered decisively.

'You promised ter yesterday, Liza.'

'Yesterday an' ter-day's two different things,' was her wise reply.

'Yus, come on, Liza.'

'Na, I tell yer, I won't.'

'I want ter talk ter yer, Liza.' Her hand was resting on the window-sill, and he put his upon it. She quickly drew it back.

'Well, I don't want yer ter talk ter me.'

But she did, for it was she who broke the silence.

'Say, Tom, 'oo are them new folk as 'as come into the street? It's a big chap with a brown beard.'

'D'you mean the bloke as kissed yer this afternoon?'

Liza blushed again.

'Well, why shouldn't 'e kiss me?' she said, with some inconsequence.

'I never said as 'ow 'e shouldn't; I only arst yer if it was the sime.'

'Yea, thet's 'oo I mean.'

''Is nime is Blakeston--Jim Blakeston. I've only spoke to 'im once; he's took the two top rooms at No. 19 'ouse.'

'Wot's 'e want two top rooms for?'

''Im? Oh, 'e's got a big family--five kids. Ain't yer seen 'is wife abaht the street? She's a big, fat woman, as does 'er 'air funny.'

'I didn't know 'e 'ad a wife.'

There was another silence; Liza sat thinking, and Tom stood at the window, looking at her.

'Won't yer come aht with me, Liza?' he asked, at last.

'Na, Tom,' she said, a little more gently, 'it's too lite.'

'Liza,' he said, blushing to the roots of his hair.

'Well?'

'Liza'--he couldn't go on, and stuttered in his shyness--'Liza, I--I--I loves yer, Liza.'

'Garn awy!'

He was quite brave now, and took hold of her hand.

'Yer know, Liza, I'm earnin' twenty-three shillin's at the works now, an' I've got some furniture as mother left me when she was took.'

The girl said nothing.

'Liza, will you 'ave me? I'll make yer a good 'usband, Liza, swop me bob, I will; an' yer know I'm not a drinkin' sort. Liza, will yer marry me?'

'Na, Tom,' she answered quietly.

'Oh, Liza, won't you 'ave me?'

'Na, Tom, I can't.'

'Why not? You've come aht walkin' with me ever since Whitsun.'

'Ah, things is different now.'

'You're not walkin' aht with anybody else, are you, Liza?' he asked quickly.

'Na, not that.'

'Well, why won't yer, Liza? Oh Liza, I do love yer, I've never loved anybody as I love you!'

'Oh, I can't, Tom!'

'There ain't no one else?'

'Na.'

'Then why not?'

'I'm very sorry, Tom, but I don't love yer so as ter marry yer.'

'Oh, Liza!'

She could not see the look upon his face, but she heard the agony in his voice; and, moved with sudden pity, she bent out, threw her arms round his neck, and kissed him on both cheeks.

'Never mind old chap!' she said. 'I'm not worth troublin' abaht.'

And quickly drawing back, she slammed the window to, and moved into the further part of the room.

丽莎和她母亲在吃晚饭。肯普太太是个过了中年的妇人，矮矮的个子，却很结实，脸色红彤彤的。灰白的头发往后梳着，紧贴在额头上。她已经做了好几年的寡妇，自从丈夫死了之后，一直和丽莎住在她们此刻住着的那间沿街的底层屋子里。她的丈夫原是当兵的，幸喜国家给她的抚恤金还够她勉强活命，另外靠打打杂，找些零星活干干，挣几个外快钱，给自己买酒喝。丽莎在厂里做工，能够自己养活自己。

这天晚上肯普太太绷着脸，很不高兴的样子。

“你今天下午在干些什么？”她问。

“我在街上。”

“我要找你，你总是在街上。”

“我不知道你要找我，妈妈，’’丽莎回答。

“嗳，你也好来看看的呀！我或许死了呢，谁说得定。”

丽莎不吭声。

“今天我风湿发得可厉害，简直没有办法。医生说我可以用你给我弄来的那种药水擦擦，可你一点不管我。”

“可是妈妈，’’丽莎说，“你的风湿昨天一点没发，好好的嘛。”

“我知道你干什么去了；你要穿着你那套新衣裳去出风头。钱不交给我放起来，而就是这么乱花。讲到衣服，我才远远比你需要买件新的哪。可是，当然，我是无关紧要的。”

丽莎没有接她的嘴。肯普太太再没有什么话说，就闷声不响，继续吃她的晚饭。

接下来开始说话的倒是丽莎。

“这条街上搬来了一家新的人家。你看到过他们吗？”她同。

“没有；搬来了什么样的人？”

“我不知道；我看见一个家伙，一个长胡子的高大汉子。我想他大概是住在另一头的。”

她觉得自己脸上微微热烘烘的一阵。

“不会是什么好人，你相信我说的，”肯普太太说。“我看不惯这些新来的人；这条街跟我当年刚搬来的时候不一样了。”

她们吃完饭，肯普太太站起身来，喝了她的半品脱的啤酒，然后对女儿说——

“把桌子上的东西收拾开，丽莎。我就在附近去看看克莱顿太太；她刚生了对双胞胎，这两个出世之前，她已经有九个了。我说呀，上帝怎么不收回几个去，真是可怜见。”

肯普太太说完了这句好心话，就走出门去，拐进了隔开几个门口的另一所房子里去。

丽莎并没有照她母亲的吩咐把杯盘收拾开，而且还打开窗户，把她的椅子移到了窗口．。她倚着窗槛，往外望着街上。

太阳已经落山，此刻是黄昏时分。天色渐渐暗了下来，天空中显现出闪烁的星星；虽然没有风，却也凉快而宁静。

那些善良的人们依然坐在门口的石阶上，象刚才一样还是谈论着那些谈不完的老话题，只是随着夜晚的来临，声音稍微压低了一些。男孩子们还是在打板球，但是他们大多数是在小街的另一头，所以他们的叫嚷传到丽莎耳朵里的时候，都不很响亮了。

她坐着，双手撑着头，呼吸着新鲜空气，感到一种她似乎没有感到过的微妙的安谧。这是个星期六的夜晚，她想到明天早晨不用去工厂，心里高兴，她有得休息了。她多少觉得有些疲倦，也许是由于那天下午的喧扰，她玩味着夜晚的安宁。夜是那么清净，那么平静；这沉寂使她充满了异样的喜悦，仿佛觉得最好能整夜地坐在那里，闲望窗外凉爽、黯黑的街道，远眺天上的星星。她非常快活，同时却又感到一种说不出的新的忧郁的激情，几乎要哭出来。

突然一个黑色的人影走到她开着的窗口。她惊叫了一声。

“谁？”她问，因为天色很暗，她认不出那站在面前的人。

“我，丽莎，”那个人回答说。

“汤姆？”

“是的！”

那是个淡黄头发的年轻人，嘴上淡淡的髭须使他看来几乎象个孩子I白白的脸，蓝蓝的眼睛，天真可爱的神情中交织着一种莫名其妙的羞怯，碰到有人对他说话就脸红。

“什么事？”丽莎说。

“出来散一会步好吗，丽莎？”

“不！’’她断然拒绝。

“你昨天答应我的，丽莎。”

“昨天是昨天，今天是今天。”是她聪明的回答。

“出来散一会步吧，丽莎。”

“不，我对你说了，我不高兴。”

“我有话要对你说，丽莎。”她的手原来搁在窗槛上，他把手按上去。她迅速把自己的手缩了回去。

“嗯，我不要你对我说话。”

事实上她要对他说话；打破沉默正是她。

“嗳，汤姆，新搬到这条街上来的是些什么人？有一个棕色胡子的大个子。”

“你是说今天下午吻你的那个家伙吗？”

丽莎又一阵脸红。

“怎么，他为什么吻我不得？”她说，有点文不对题地。

“我没说吻得吻不得；我只是问你，是不是就是那个人。”

“是呀，我是说那个人。”

“他姓布莱克斯顿——叫吉姆·布莱克斯顿。我只跟他说过一次话。他住在十九号的顶层两间里。”

“他要两间房间作什么？”

“他？他有一群孩子——五个。你没在街上看见过他老婆吗？她是个又高又大的胖子，头发梳得怪里怪气的。”

“我还不知道他有老婆。’’

又沉默了一会；丽莎坐着想，汤姆站在窗外望着她。

“你可以出来跟我走走吗，丽莎？”

“不，汤姆，”她说，比刚才客气些，“太晚了。”

“丽莎，”他说，面孔红到颈根。

“怎么？”

“丽莎”——他说到这里，羞怯得结结巴巴的——“丽莎，我——我——我爱你，丽莎。”

“去你的！”

这回他勇敢起来，一把握住了她的手。

“我现在在厂里每星期好拿二十三先令，我还有母亲死的时候留下给我的一些家具。”

姑娘默不作声。

“丽莎，你能要我吗？我会给你做个好丈夫，丽莎，我发誓一定做到；你也知道，我不是那种酗酒的。丽莎，你肯嫁给我吗？”

“不，汤姆，”她小声回答他。

“啊，丽莎，你不要我吗？”

“不要，汤姆，我不可能要你。”

“为什么不要我？从降灵节注以来，你一直跟我一起出去散步的。”

“啊，现在情形不同了。”

“你要跟别人一起去散步吧，丽莎？”他紧接着问。

“不，不是这个意思。”

“那么，你为什么不要我呢，丽莎？噢，丽莎，我实在爱你；我从没有象爱你这样爱过任何人！”

“嗳，我不能，汤姆！”

“可不是有了别人了？”

“不，没有。”

“那你为什么不要我呢？”

“很对不起，汤姆，我跟你好，可不是要嫁给你。”

“啊，丽莎！”

她看不清他脸上的表情，但是听得出他声音里含有无限的创痛。她被一时的哀怜所冲动，仰出身子去，双臂挽住他的脖子，在他两面面颊上亲了两个吻。

“别难过，好朋友！”她说。“我不值得你烦心。”

于是她急速缩回身子，把窗户砰的关上，转身向屋子里边走去。

引用

Chapter 3

The following day was Sunday. Liza when she was dressing herself in the morning, felt the hardness of fate in the impossibility of eating one's cake and having it; she wished she had reserved her new dress, and had still before her the sensation of a first appearance in it. With a sigh she put on her ordinary everyday working dress, and proceeded to get the breakfast ready, for her mother had been out late the previous night, celebrating the new arrivals in the street, and had the 'rheumatics' this morning.

'Oo, my 'ead!' she was saying, as she pressed her hands on each side of her forehead. 'I've got the neuralgy again, wot shall I do? I dunno 'ow it is, but it always comes on Sunday mornings. Oo, an' my rheumatics, they give me sich a doin' in the night!'

'You'd better go to the 'orspital mother.'

'Not I!' answered the worthy lady, with great decision. 'You 'as a dozen young chaps messin' you abaht, and lookin' at yer, and then they tells yer ter leave off beer and spirrits. Well, wot I says, I says I can't do withaht my glass of beer.' She thumped her pillow to emphasize the statement.

'Wot with the work I 'ave ter do, lookin' after you and the cookin' and gettin' everythin' ready and doin' all the 'ouse-work, and goin' aht charring besides--well, I says, if I don't 'ave a drop of beer, I says, ter pull me together, I should be under the turf in no time.'

She munched her bread-and-butter and drank her tea.

'When you've done breakfast, Liza,' she said, 'you can give the grate a cleanin', an' my boots'd do with a bit of polishin'. Mrs. Tike, in the next 'ouse, 'll give yer some blackin'.'

She remained silent for a bit, then said:

'I don't think I shall get up ter-day. Liza. My rheumatics is bad. You can put the room straight and cook the dinner.'

'Arright, mother, you stay where you are, an' I'll do everythin' for yer.'

'Well, it's only wot yer ought to do, considerin' all the trouble you've been ter me when you was young, and considerin' thet when you was born the doctor thought I never should get through it. Wot 'ave you done with your week's money, Liza?'

'Oh, I've put it awy,' answered Liza quietly.

'Where?' asked her mother.

'Where it'll be safe.'

'Where's that?'

Liza was driven into a corner.

'Why d'you want ter know?' she asked.

'Why shouldn't I know; d'you think I want ter steal it from yer?'

'Na, not thet.'

'Well, why won't you tell me?'

'Oh, a thing's sifer when only one person knows where it is.'

This was a very discreet remark, but it set Mrs. Kemp in a whirlwind of passion. She raised herself and sat up in the bed, flourishing her clenched fist at her daughter.

'I know wot yer mean, you ---- you!' Her language was emphatic, her epithets picturesque, but too forcible for reproduction. 'You think I'd steal it,' she went on. 'I know yer! D'yer think I'd go an' tike yer dirty money?'

'Well, mother,' said Liza, 'when I've told yer before, the money's perspired like.'

'Wot d'yer mean?'

'It got less.'

'Well, I can't 'elp thet, can I? Anyone can come in 'ere and tike the money.'

'If it's 'idden awy, they can't, can they, mother?' said Liza.

Mrs. Kemp shook her fist.

'You dirty slut, you,' she said, 'yer think I tike yer money! Why, you ought ter give it me every week instead of savin' it up and spendin' it on all sorts of muck, while I 'ave ter grind my very bones down to keep yer.'

'Yer know, mother, if I didn't 'ave a little bit saved up, we should be rather short when you're dahn in yer luck.'

Mrs. Kemp's money always ran out on Tuesday, and Liza had to keep things going till the following Saturday.

'Oh, don't talk ter me!' proceeded Mrs. Kemp. 'When I was a girl I give all my money ter my mother. She never 'ad ter ask me for nothin'. On Saturday when I come 'ome with my wiges, I give it 'er every farthin'. That's wot a daughter ought ter do. I can say this for myself, I be'aved by my mother like a gal should. None of your prodigal sons for me! She didn't 'ave ter ask me for three 'apence ter get a drop of beer.'

Liza was wise in her generation; she held her tongue, and put on her hat.

'Now, you're goin' aht, and leavin' me; I dunno wot you get up to in the street with all those men. No good, I'll be bound. An' 'ere am I left alone, an' I might die for all you care.'

In her sorrow at herself the old lady began to cry, and Liza slipped out of the room and into the street.

Leaning against the wall of the opposite house was Tom; he came towards her.

''Ulloa!' she said, as she saw him. 'Wot are you doin' 'ere?'

'I was waitin' for you ter come aht, Liza,' he answered.

She looked at him quickly.

'I ain't comin' aht with yer ter-day, if thet's wot yer mean,' she said.

'I never thought of arskin' yer, Liza--after wot you said ter me last night.'

His voice was a little sad, and she felt so sorry for him.

'But yer did want ter speak ter me, didn't yer, Tom?' she said, more gently.

'You've got a day off ter-morrow, ain't yer?'

'Bank 'Oliday. Yus! Why?'

'Why, 'cause they've got a drag startin' from the "Red Lion" that's goin' down ter Chingford for the day--an' I'm goin'.'

'Yus!' she said.

He looked at her doubtfully.

'Will yer come too, Liza? It'll be a regular beeno; there's only goin' ter be people in the street. Eh, Liza?'

'Na, I can't.'

'Why not?'

'I ain't got--I ain't got the ooftish.'

'I mean, won't yer come with me?'

'Na, Tom, thank yer; I can't do thet neither.'

'Yer might as well, Liza; it wouldn't 'urt yer.'

'Na, it wouldn't be right like; I can't come aht with yer, and then mean nothin'! It would be doin' yer aht of an outing.'

'I don't see why,' he said, very crestfallen.

'I can't go on keepin' company with you--after what I said last night.'

'I shan't enjoy it a bit without you, Liza.'

'You git somebody else, Tom. You'll do withaht me all right.'

She nodded to him, and walked up the street to the house of her friend Sally. Having arrived in front of it, she put her hands to her mouth in trumpet form, and shouted:

''I! 'I! 'I! Sally!'

A couple of fellows standing by copied her.

''I! 'I! 'I! Sally!'

'Garn!' said Liza, looking round at them.

Sally did not appear and she repeated her call. The men imitated her, and half a dozen took it up, so that there was enough noise to wake the seven sleepers.

''I! 'I! 'I! Sally!'

A head was put out of a top window, and Liza, taking off her hat, waved it, crying:

'Come on dahn, Sally!'

'Arright, old gal!' shouted the other. 'I'm comin'!'

'So's Christmas!' was Liza's repartee.

There was a clatter down the stairs, and Sally, rushing through the passage, threw herself on to her friend. They began fooling, in reminiscence of a melodrama they had lately seen together.

'Oh, my darlin' duck!' said Liza, kissing her and pressing her, with affected rapture, to her bosom.

'My sweetest sweet!' replied Sally, copying her.

'An' 'ow does your lidyship ter-day?'

'Oh!'--with immense languor--'fust class; and is your royal 'ighness quite well?'

'I deeply regret,' answered Liza, 'but my royal 'ighness 'as got the collywobbles.'

Sally was a small, thin girl, with sandy hair and blue eyes, and a very freckled complexion. She had an enormous mouth, with terrible, square teeth set wide apart, which looked as if they could masticate an iron bar. She was dressed like Liza, in a shortish black skirt and an old-fashioned bodice, green and grey and yellow with age; her sleeves were tucked up to the elbow, and she wore a singularly dirty apron, that had once been white.

'Wot 'ave you got yer 'air in them things for?' asked Liza, pointing to the curl-papers. 'Goin' aht with yer young man ter-day?'

'No, I'm going ter stay 'ere all day.'

'Wot for, then?'

'Why, 'Arry's going ter tike me ter Chingford ter-morrer.'

'Oh? In the "Red Lion" brake?'

'Yus. Are you goin'?'

'Na!'

'Not! Well, why don't you get round Tom? 'E'll tike yer, and jolly glad 'e'll be, too.'

''E arst me ter go with 'im, but I wouldn't.'

'Swop me bob--why not?'

'I ain't keeping company with 'im.'

'Yer might 'ave gone with 'im all the sime.'

'Na. You're goin' with 'Arry, ain't yer?'

'Yus!'

'An' you're goin' to 'ave 'im?'

'Right again!'

'Well, I couldn't go with Tom, and then throw him over.'

'Well, you are a mug!'

The two girls had strolled down towards the Westminster Bridge Road, and Sally, meeting her young man, had gone to him. Liza walked back, wishing to get home in time to cook the dinner. But she went slowly, for she knew every dweller in the street, and as she passed the groups sitting at their doors, as on the previous evening, but this time mostly engaged in peeling potatoes or shelling peas, she stopped and had a little chat. Everyone liked her, and was glad to have her company. 'Good old Liza,' they would say, as she left them, 'she's a rare good sort, ain't she?'

She asked after the aches and pains of all the old people, and delicately inquired after the babies, past and future; the children hung on to her skirts and asked her to play with them, and she would hold one end of the rope while tiny little ragged girls skipped, invariably entangling themselves after two jumps.

She had nearly reached home, when she heard a voice cry:

'Mornin'!'

She looked round and recognized the man whom Tom had told her was called Jim Blakeston. He was sitting on a stool at the door of one of the houses, playing with two young children, to whom he was giving rides on his knee. She remembered his heavy brown beard from the day before, and she had also an impression of great size; she noticed this morning that he was, in fact, a big man, tall and broad, and she saw besides that he had large, masculine features and pleasant brown eyes. She supposed him to be about forty.

'Mornin'!' he said again, as she stopped and looked at him.

'Well, yer needn't look as if I was goin' ter eat yer up, 'cause I ain't,' he said.

''Oo are you? I'm not afeard of yer.'

'Wot are yer so bloomin' red abaht?' he asked pointedly.

'Well, I'm 'ot.'

'You ain't shirty 'cause I kissed yer last night?'

'I'm not shirty; but it was pretty cool, considerin' like as I didn't know yer.'

'Well, you run into my arms.'

'Thet I didn't; you run aht and caught me.'

'An' kissed yer before you could say "Jack Robinson".' He laughed at the thought. 'Well, Liza,' he went on, 'seein' as 'ow I kissed yer against yer will, the best thing you can do ter make it up is to kiss me not against yer will.'

'Me?' said Liza, looking at him, open-mouthed. 'Well you are a pill!'

The children began to clamour for the riding, which had been discontinued on Liza's approach.

'Are them your kids?' she asked.

'Yus; them's two on 'em.'

''Ow many 'ave yer got?'

'Five; the eldest gal's fifteen, and the next one 'oo's a boy's twelve, and then there are these two and baby.'

'Well, you've got enough for your money.'

'Too many for me--and more comin'.'

'Ah well,' said Liza, laughing, 'thet's your fault, ain't it?'

Then she bade him good morning, and strolled off.

He watched her as she went, and saw half a dozen little boys surround her and beg her to join them in their game of cricket. They caught hold of her arms and skirts, and pulled her to their pitch.

'No, I can't,' she said trying to disengage herself. 'I've got the dinner ter cook.'

'Dinner ter cook?' shouted one small boy. 'Why, they always cooks the cats' meat at the shop.'

'You little so-and-so!' said Liza, somewhat inelegantly, making a dash at him.

He dodged her and gave a whoop; then turning he caught her round the legs, and another boy catching hold of her round the neck they dragged her down, and all three struggled on the ground, rolling over and over; the other boys threw themselves on the top, so that there was a great heap of legs and arms and heads waving and bobbing up and down.

Liza extricated herself with some difficulty, and taking off her hat she began cuffing the boys with it, using all the time the most lively expressions. Then, having cleared the field, she retired victorious into her own house and began cooking the dinner.

第二天是星期日。丽莎早晨起来穿衣服的时候，想到一样东西不可能“吃下肚里，还在手里”，深深懊悔自己不该把新衣裳穿了出去，从此再没有第一次穿着它去出风头的可能了。

她叹息一声，穿上家常的工作衣服，着手准备早餐，因为她母亲昨夜去给街上新搬来的人家贺喜，回来睡晚了，今天早晨她的“风湿”又发了。

“唷，我的头呀！”她双手按住两边的额角，正在叫苦。“我又神经痛发作了；怎么办呀？不知怎么搞的，总是在星期天早上发病。哦，还有我的风湿，一夜里简直要我命！”

“你还是去医院看一看吧，妈妈。”

“我才不去呢！”这位可敬的太太斩钉截铁地说，“你有一群小伙子跟你混在一起，看着你，叫你不要喝啤酒，不要喝白酒。而我呢，我说呀，我说我没有我这杯啤酒就活不下去。”她猛力拍打枕头，加强她的语气。

“我有那么些事情要做，既要照顾你，烧饭弄菜，把样样都弄舒齐，做不完的家务，还要出去打杂——所以我说呀，要不是靠一点啤酒支撑着，我早埋在地里了。”

她啃着黄油面包，喝她的茶。

“丽莎，”她说，“你吃好了早饭，把门窗的格栅揩揩干净，再把我的皮鞋稍微擦一下。隔壁泰克太太会给你些鞋油的。”

她沉默了一会儿，接着又说——

“我看今天我起不来了，丽莎。我风湿发作。你把房间收拾收拾，把饭烧好了。”

“好，妈妈；你就什么都不要动，都由我来。”

“好吧，这也是你应该做的，你要想想你小时候添了我多少麻烦，想想我生你的时候，医生总以为我绝对没命了。丽莎，你这个星期的工钱怎么样了？”

“哦，我放起来了．”丽莎轻声回答。

“放在哪儿！”她母亲问。

“放在安全的地方！”

丽莎被迫逼得走投无路。

“你要知道它干吗？”她问。

“为什么我不该知道，难道你以为我要偷你的吗？”

“不，不是那个。”

“那么，你干吗不告诉我？”

“哦，东西放在哪里，只有一个人知道，比较安全。”

她这句话说得很谨慎，不料引起肯普太太大发雷霆：她竖起身子，坐在床上向她女儿挥舞着拳头。

“我懂你的意思——你这——你！”她的语言很有力，形容词也用得绘声绘色，只是太生动有力，未便转述。“你以为我会偷你的，”她继续说。“我知道你！你以为我会拿你的肮脏钱吗？”

“不过，妈，”丽莎说，“以前我告诉了你，钱就好象走气了。’’

“你这是什么意思？”

“钱少了。”

“呀，这我可没有办法，我能怎么样？任何人都可能跑进这屋里来拿了去的。’’

“要是藏得好好的，他们就拿不到了，是不是，妈妈？”丽莎说。

肯普太太挥着拳头说一

“你这下贱的臭货，你，你以为我会拿你的钱！我为了养活你，把骨头都磨断了，你应该把每个星期的工钱交给我，不应该积起来，尽去买乱七八糟的东西。”

“你要知道，妈妈，假如我不积一点起来，到你倒霉的时候，我们就尴尬了。”

肯普太太的钱总是到星期二就用完了，于是到星期六为止这个家就得由丽莎维持。

“哦，别跟我说！”肯普太太继续说。“我是年轻姑娘的时候，我把钱都交给我妈。她从来没有向我要过。每逢星期六我拿了工钱，一分一厘都给她。做女儿的应该这样嘛。我可以自己说一句，我对我母亲尽了做女儿的本分。别用浪子回头这一套来教训我！我的妈从来不必开口向我要三个铜板去买口啤酒喝的。”

丽莎是她这一辈里一个聪明的姑娘；她一声不响，戴上了帽子。

“哼，你准备出去，把我丢下；我不知道你跟这些男人在街上搞些什么名堂。没有好处，我可以肯定。你把我一个人丢在这里，孤单单的，我死，你也不管。”

老太太伤心得哭泣起来，而丽莎一溜烟从屋子里到了街上。

对面房子的墙脚跟前，汤姆靠在那儿；他向她走来。

“嗨！”她看见了他，招呼他。“你在这儿作啥？”

“我在等你出来，丽莎，”他回答。

她向他瞥了一眼。

“你要是那个意思，那我说我今天不跟你出去，”她说。

“我没再想要求你跟我出去，丽莎——既然你昨天夜里对我说了那些话。”

他的声音有些发颤，她很为他难过。

“不过，你总有什么话要对我说，是不是，汤姆？”她说，口气比刚才温和。

“你不是明天有一天休假吗？”

“公假日注。是啊！怎么样？”

“嗯，因为他们有辆四轮大马车，从红狮酒店出发，明天到庆福注去一天——我准备去。”

“是吗！”她说。

他用疑惑的眼光凝视着她。

“你也去吗，丽莎？是个普通的郊游聚餐会，去的都是这里街上的人。怎么样，丽莎？”

“不，我不能去。”

“为什么不能去？”

“我没有——我没有钱。”

“我是想问，你跟我去，好吗？”

“不，汤姆，谢谢你；这我也不行。”

“你完全可以去嘛，丽莎，对你不会有什么不好。”

“不，这不大好，我不能跟你去了却又对你没有意思！这变成我骗你白白请我出去玩一次啦。”

“我不懂为什么，’’他垂头丧气地说。

“昨天夜里我跟你说了那些之后，我不能再跟你在一起。”

“没有你一起去，我还有什么味儿，丽莎。”

“你可以另外找个别人，汤姆。你完全可以不一定要我。”

她对他点了点头，朝街上她的女伴萨莉家走去了。到了门前，她把双手做了个喇叭形状，大声叫道——

“嗨！嗨！嗨！萨莉！”

两个站在旁边的男人学着她叫。

“嗨！嗨！嗨！萨莉！”

“去！”丽莎说，回头看看他们。

萨莉没应，她继续叫喊，这两个男人模仿她，另外五、六个跟了上来，于是声音响得足以唤醒沉睡的七隐士注。

“嗨！嗨！嗨！萨莉！”

一个头从上面顶层的窗口探出来，丽莎脱下帽子，挥着向她招呼，大声叫喊一

“下来，萨莉！”

“好，老朋友！”对方也叫。“我就来了！”

“圣诞节也就来了，”丽莎给她个机智的回复。

楼梯上一阵啪嗒啪嗒的声音，萨莉直奔下来，投入丽莎的怀抱。她们回想起最近一起看的一出传奇剧，学着开起玩笑来。

“哦，我的心肝宝贝！”丽莎一边说，一边亲吻她，装出欣喜若狂的样子，把她紧紧抱住。

“我最亲爱的亲爱的！”萨莉也装腔作势，这样对答。

“小姐今天好？”

“噢！”——嗲声嗲气，有气无力地——“好极；公主您好？”

“非常遗憾，”丽莎回答，“可是我这个公主肚子里尽在咕噜噜叫。”

萨莉是个瘦小的姑娘，灰黄的头发，蓝色的眼睛，满脸雀斑。她的嘴特别大，稀开的阔板牙齿，仿佛铁棒也能嚼，样子很难看。她穿得跟丽莎差不多，一条稍短的黑裙子，一件已经旧得说不出是绿、是灰、还是黄的老式紧身上衣，袖子卷到了臂肘弯，外面罩着一条原来是白的、现在脏得一塌糊涂的围裙。

“你的头发卷着这些东西干吗？”丽莎指着萨莉头上的卷发纸，问道。“今天你要跟男朋友出去吗？”

“不，我今天整天不出去。”

“那你为什么卷头发？”

“是这样，明天哈利要带我到庆福去。”

“噢？乘红狮酒店的四轮大马车去吗？”

“是啊。你去吗？”

“不去！”

“不去！咦，你为什么不叫汤姆带你去？他会带你去，他也正高兴哩。”

“他叫我跟他去，可我不去。”

“天晓得——为什么不跟他去呢？’’

“我不跟他做朋友了。”

“可你还是可以跟他一起去嘛。”

“不。你跟哈利一起去吗？”

“对！”

“你准备要他吗？”

“又说对了！”

“可我不能跟汤姆一起去了之后又把他丢了。"

“啊呀！你真是个傻瓜！”

两个姑娘朝着威斯敏斯特桥大道踱过去，萨莉碰到了她的男朋友，向他走去了。

丽莎回头走，要赶回家做饭。但是她走不快，因为她认识小街上的每一个居民，一路上碰到象昨天黄昏时候一样坐在门口的那一堆堆人，——这会儿大多数在削土豆或者剥豆壳——她总站停下来，跟她们攀谈几句。人人都喜欢她，喜欢跟她在一起。

“好姑娘丽莎，”她们在她走过去后说，“她真是个难得的好姑娘呀！”

她询问所有老年人的病痛，亲切关怀刚出生的和还没出生的婴儿们的情况；孩子们绕在她裙脚跟前，要她跟他们一起玩；破破烂烂的女小孩儿们跳绳，跳不上两、三下就绊住了，她常握着绳子的一端，帮她们挥绳。

她快到家门口的时候，听见有人在招呼一

“早上好！”

她回头一看，原来就是汤姆告诉她名字的吉姆·布莱克斯顿。他坐在一所房子门口的一张凳子上，有两个很小的孩子骑在他膝盖上玩。

她从昨天起脑海里一直浮现着他那浓密的棕色胡子和一个高大的形象。今天早晨她看清了，他确实是个大个子，又高又阔，此外她还看到，他有粗犷的男性的面貌，棕色的眼睛神采奕奕。

她猜他大概四十岁左右。

“早上好！”她停下来瞧着他的时候，他重复招呼了一声。

丽莎脸涨得通红，慌张得回不出话。

“怎么，你不用害怕得好象我会吃掉你，你放心，我不会的”，他说。

“你算什么？我不怕你。”

“那你为什么脸涨得那么红呢？”他一针见血地问。

“嗯，我热嘛。”

“昨天夜里我吻了你，你不恼火吗？”

“我不恼火；不过我和你素不相识，你真是岂有此理。’’

“咦，是你冲进我怀里来的。”

“我没有，是你冲出来把我抓住的。”

“而且我趁你惊慌失措，吻了你。”他想到这情景，哈哈大笑。

“好吧，丽莎，”他接着说，“既然我勉强了你，吻了你，那么你最好的补救办法就是不勉强自己地吻还我。”

“我吻你？”丽莎说，张开着嘴盯着他。“哼，你这个坏蛋！”

两个孩子又吵着要在膝盖上骑马，刚才因为丽莎来了，才停下来的。

“他们是你的孩子吗？”她问。

“是的，他们是其中两个。”

“你一共有几个？”

“五个；最大的是女的，十五岁，下面一个是男的．f．：岁，再下面就是这两个和一个刚生下的娃娃。”

“哦，这么些孩子开支够大的了。”

“已经多得我受不了一一可是还要生出来呢。’’

“唷，这是你的不是，对吗？”丽莎说着笑了起来。

然后她对他道了早安，漫步走去了。

他瞧着她慢慢走去，看她被五六个小孩子围着，要她和他们一起打板球。他们抓住她的手臂和裙子，把她拖到他们球门口。

“不，我不能玩．”她说，一边拚命挣脱。“我要去烧饭。”

“去烧饭？”一个很小的孩子嚷道。“哦，饭馆里总是烧猫肉的。”

“你这个小东西！”丽莎说，不太文雅地向他冲上去。

他避得快，对着她呐喊挑战；一个转身，他把她两条腿抱住了，另一个孩子上去攀住她的脖子，他们把她拖倒在地上，三个人在地上扭成一团，滚来滚去；其余几个孩子又扑到他们上面，于是只见一大堆的腿：臂膀、头在乱挥乱动，有如波涛起伏，浪花飞溅。

丽莎好容易挣脱了出来，脱下帽子，挥击他们，嘴里尽说着最生动的骂人的语言。终于她击退了他们，胜利归家，开始做饭。

引用

Chapter 4

Bank Holiday was a beautiful day: the cloudless sky threatened a stifling heat for noontide, but early in the morning, when Liza got out of bed and threw open the window, it was fresh and cool. She dressed herself, wondering how she should spend her day; she thought of Sally going off to Chingford with her lover, and of herself remaining alone in the dull street with half the people away. She almost wished it were an ordinary work-day, and that there were no such things as bank holidays. And it seemed to be a little like two Sundays running, but with the second rather worse than the first. Her mother was still sleeping, and she was in no great hurry about getting the breakfast, but stood quietly looking out of the window at the house opposite.

In a little while she saw Sally coming along. She was arrayed in purple and fine linen--a very smart red dress, trimmed with velveteen, and a tremendous hat covered with feathers. She had reaped the benefit of keeping her hair in curl-papers since Saturday, and her sandy fringe stretched from ear to ear. She was in enormous spirits.

''Ulloa, Liza!' she called as soon as she saw her at the window.

Liza looked at her a little enviously.

''Ulloa!' she answered quietly.

'I'm just goin' to the "Red Lion" to meet 'Arry.'

'At what time d'yer start?'

'The brake leaves at 'alf-past eight sharp.'

'Why, it's only eight; it's only just struck at the church. 'Arry won't be there yet, will he?'

'Oh, 'e's sure ter be early. I couldn't wite. I've been witin' abaht since 'alf-past six. I've been up since five this morning.'

'Since five! What 'ave you been doin'?'

'Dressin' myself and doin' my 'air. I woke up so early. I've been dreamin' all the night abaht it. I simply couldn't sleep.'

'Well, you are a caution!' said Liza.

'Bust it, I don't go on the spree every day! Oh, I do 'ope I shall enjoy myself.'

'Why, you simply dunno where you are!' said Liza, a little crossly.

'Don't you wish you was comin', Liza?' asked Sally.

'Na! I could if I liked, but I don't want ter.'

'You are a coughdrop--thet's all I can say. Ketch me refusin' when I 'ave the chanst.'

'Well, it's done now. I ain't got the chanst any more.' Liza said this with just a little regret in her voice.

'Come on dahn to the "Red Lion", Liza, and see us off,' said Sally.

'No, I'm damned if I do!' answered Liza, with some warmth.

'You might as well. P'raps 'Arry won't be there, an' you can keep me company till 'e comes. An' you can see the 'orses.'

Liza was really very anxious to see the brake and the horses and the people going; but she hesitated a little longer. Sally asked her once again. Then she said:

'Arright; I'll come with yer, and wite till the bloomin' old thing starts.'

She did not trouble to put on a hat, but just walked out as she was, and accompanied Sally to the public-house which was getting up the expedition.

Although there was still nearly half an hour to wait, the brake was drawn up before the main entrance; it was large and long, with seats arranged crosswise, so that four people could sit on each; and it was drawn by two powerful horses, whose harness the coachman was now examining. Sally was not the first on the scene, for already half a dozen people had taken their places, but Harry had not yet arrived. The two girls stood by the public-door, looking at the preparations. Huge baskets full of food were brought out and stowed away; cases of beer were hoisted up and put in every possible place--under the seats, under the driver's legs, and even beneath the brake. As more people came up, Sally began to get excited about Harry's non-appearance.

'I say, I wish 'e'd come!' she said. ''E is lite.'

Then she looked up and down the Westminster Bridge Road to see if he was in view.

'Suppose 'e don't turn up! I will give it 'im when 'e comes for keepin' me witin' like this.'

'Why, there's a quarter of an hour yet,' said Liza, who saw nothing at all to get excited about.

At last Sally saw her lover, and rushed off to meet him. Liza was left alone, rather disconsolate at all this bustle and preparation. She was not sorry that she had refused Tom's invitation, but she did wish that she had conscientiously been able to accept it. Sally and her friend came up; attired in his Sunday best, he was a fit match for his lady-love--he wore a shirt and collar, unusual luxuries--and be carried under his arm a concertina to make things merry on the way.

'Ain't you goin', Liza?' he asked in surprise at seeing her without a hat and with her apron on.

'Na,' said Sally, 'ain't she a soft? Tom said 'e'd tike 'er, an' she wouldn't.'

'Well, I'm dashed!'

Then they climbed the ladder and took their seats, so that Liza was left alone again. More people had come along, and the brake was nearly full. Liza knew them all, but they were too busy taking their places to talk to her. At last Tom came. He saw her standing there and went up to her.

'Won't yer change yer mind, Liza, an' come along with us?'

'Na, Tom, I told yer I wouldn't--it's not right like.' She felt she must repeat that to herself often.

'I shan't enjoy it a bit without you,' he said.

'Well, I can't 'elp it!' she answered, somewhat sullenly.

At that moment a man came out of the public-house with a horn in his hand; her heart gave a great jump, for if there was anything she adored it was to drive along to the tootling of a horn. She really felt it was very hard lines that she must stay at home when all these people were going to have such a fine time; and they were all so merry, and she could picture to herself so well the delights of the drive and the picnic. She felt very much inclined to cry. But she mustn't go, and she wouldn't go: she repeated that to herself twice as the trumpeter gave a preliminary tootle.

Two more people hurried along, and when they came near Liza saw that they were Jim Blakeston and a woman whom she supposed to be his wife.

'Are you comin', Liza?' Jim said to her.

'No,' she answered. 'I didn't know you was goin'.'

'I wish you was comin',' he replied, 'we shall 'ave a game.'

She could only just keep back the sobs; she so wished she were going. It did seem hard that she must remain behind; and all because she wasn't going to marry Tom. After all, she didn't see why that should prevent her; there really was no need to refuse for that. She began to think she had acted foolishly: it didn't do anyone any good that she refused to go out with Tom, and no one thought it anything specially fine that she should renounce her pleasure. Sally merely thought her a fool.

Tom was standing by her side, silent, and looking disappointed and rather unhappy. Jim said to her, in a low voice:

'I am sorry you're not comin'!'

It was too much. She did want to go so badly, and she really couldn't resist any longer. If Tom would only ask her once more, and if she could only change her mind reasonably and decently, she would accept; but he stood silent, and she had to speak herself. It was very undignified.

'Yer know, Tom.' she said, 'I don't want ter spoil your day.'

'Well, I don't think I shall go alone; it 'ud be so precious slow.'

Supposing he didn't ask her again! What should she do? She looked up at the clock on the front of the pub, and noticed that it only wanted five minutes to the half-hour. How terrible it would be if the brake started and he didn't ask her! Her heart beat violently against her chest, and in her agitation she fumbled with the corner of her apron.

'Well, what can I do, Tom dear?'

'Why, come with me, of course. Oh. Liza, do say yes.'

She had got the offer again, and it only wanted a little seemly hesitation, and the thing was done.

'I should like ter, Tom,' she said. 'But d'you think it 'ud be arright?'

'Yus, of course it would. Come on, Liza!' In his eagerness he clasped her hand.

'Well,' she remarked, looking down, 'if it'd spoil your 'oliday--.'

'I won't go if you don't--swop me bob, I won't!' he answered.

'Well, if I come, it won't mean that I'm keepin' company with you.'

'Na, it won't mean anythin' you don't like.'

'Arright!' she said.

'You'll come?' he could hardly believe her.

'Yus!' she answered, smiling all over her face.

'You're a good sort, Liza! I say, 'Arry, Liza's comin'!' he shouted.

'Liza? 'Oorray!' shouted Harry.

''S'at right, Liza?' called Sally.

And Liza feeling quite joyful and light of heart called back:

'Yus!'

''Oorray!' shouted Sally in answer.

'Thet's right, Liza,' called Jim; and he smiled pleasantly as she looked at him.

'There's just room for you two 'ere,' said Harry, pointing to the vacant places by his side.

'Arright!' said Tom.

'I must jest go an' get a 'at an' tell mother,' said Liza.

'There's just three minutes. Be quick!' answered Tom, and as she scampered off as hard as she could go, he shouted to the coachman: ''Old 'ard; there' another passenger comin' in a minute.'

'Arright, old cock,' answered the coachman: 'no 'urry!'

Liza rushed into the room, and called to her mother, who was still asleep:

'Mother! mother! I'm going to Chingford!'

Then tearing off her old dress she slipped into her gorgeous violet one; she kicked off her old ragged shoes and put on her new boots. She brushed her hair down and rapidly gave her fringe a twirl and a twist--it was luckily still moderately in curl from the previous Saturday--and putting on her black hat with all the feathers, she rushed along the street, and scrambling up the brake steps fell panting on Tom's lap.

The coachman cracked his whip, the trumpeter tootled his horn, and with a cry and a cheer from the occupants, the brake clattered down the road.

那天公假日天气晴朗，万里无云，恐怕中午将热得要命，但是清早丽莎起床，打开窗子的时候，非常凉爽。她穿好衣服，不知她这一天将怎么过。她想萨莉将跟她情人一起去庆福，而她自己将孤零零留在这条一半人都跑掉了的死气沉沉的小街上。她几乎宁愿今天照常是工作日，而没有什么公假日不公假日。现在有点象是连着过两个星期天，可这第二天不象第一天好过。

她的母亲还睡着，她不用赶忙准备早饭，只是默默地望着窗外对面的房屋。

一会儿她看见萨莉到街上来了。她穿着紫颜色的麻纱衬衫，一件棉绒镶边的漂亮红色上衣，头上戴着一顶插满羽毛的阔边大帽子。她从星期六以来一直把头发卷在卷发纸里，大有好处，鬈曲的灰黄色前刘海遮着整个脑门子。她兴致勃勃。

“嗨！丽莎！’’她一看见她在窗口上就叫喊。

丽莎妒羡地瞧着她。

“嗳！”她轻声地应她。

“我正要到红狮酒店去碰头哈利。”

“你们什么时候出发？”

“马车整八点半上路。”

“现在还只八点呢；教堂刚敲钟。哈利还不会到那里吧？”

“哦，他肯定早到。我等不及，我从六点半就在这附近等着啦。我今天早晨五点钟就起来了。”

“五点钟就起来！你一直在做些什么？”

“打扮打扮，做做头发。我老早就醒了，我整夜尽是做着去玩儿的梦，我简直没法睡。”

“嗯，你真奇怪。”

“有什么奇怪的，我又不是每天有得出去痛痛快快地玩儿的！噢，我真希望今天快活一场。”

“嗳，你简直头脑发昏了，”丽莎有些不乐意地说。

“你不想去吗，丽莎？”萨莉问。

“不去！我要去可以去，可是我不要去。”

“你是个怪人——我只能这样说。我有机会去，才决不放过呢。”

“现在没办法了。机会已经失掉了。”丽莎说这话的时候，口气里略有遗憾的意思。

“到红狮酒店去，丽莎，送送我们，”萨莉说。

“不，我才不去呢！’’丽莎有些激动地说。

“去吧。也许哈利还没来，你可以陪我一会儿，等到他来嘛。

你还可以看看那些马。”

丽莎实在很想去看看那辆四轮大马车和那些马，还有那些出游的人，然而她又迟疑了一会儿。萨莉重又叫她。于是她说一

“好吧，我跟你去，等着看那缺德的车子开掉。”

她帽子也不高兴戴，就这样往外走，陪着萨莉到安排这次旅游的小酒店去。

虽然还要等待将近半个小时，但是那辆四轮大马车已经停好在酒店大门口；车身又大又长，一排排座位是横排的，可以坐四个人。车子是由两匹高头大马拖的，马车夫正在检查马具可都套好。

萨莉并不是第一个到场的人，原来已经有六七个人坐好位子了，而哈利却还没有到。

两个姑娘站在酒店门口，看他们在做着各种准备。一只只装满了食物的大篮子正在搬出来装上车子，一箱箱啤酒掮得高高的，尽往能塞的空档里塞——座位底下，马车夫的大腿底下，甚至车肚底下。

人越来越多，哈利还没到，萨莉焦急起来。

“他早该来了！”她说。“他迟到了。”

于是她向威斯敏斯特桥大道两头张望，看能不能望见他。

“他不来了吗！他叫我等了这么长时间，他来了，我可要好好教训他。”

“怎么，还有一刻钟哩，”丽莎说，认为根本不用焦急。

终于萨莉看到她的情人了，她冲着迎上前去。丽莎被丢下剩一个人，在这喧闹和纷乱中倍感愁闷。她并不是懊悔拒绝了汤姆的邀请，而她是想假如她能够心安理得地接受他的邀请该多好啊！

萨莉和她的男朋友走到她跟前。他穿着他最漂亮的节日服装，他和他的心上人真是天生一对——他穿着装领衬衫，好不寻常——他在夹肢窝里抱着一只手风琴，准备在一路上热闹热闹的。

“你不去吗，丽莎？”他看见她头上没戴帽子，身上穿着围裙，诧异地问她。

“她不去，”萨莉说，“哪有这样的傻子？汤姆说带她去，她不要。”

“是呀！我就是不去！”

接着他们爬上马车的踏板，坐好位子。原来已经又有好多人来了，一辆四轮大马车几乎挤满了。这些人丽莎全认识，可是他们都忙于找位子，没空跟她说话。

最后，汤姆来了。他看见丽莎站在那里，走到她跟前。

“丽莎，你不改变主意，同我们一起去吗？”

“不，汤姆，我对你说了，我不去——那样不大好。”她觉得她应该常对自己重复这句话。

“你不一起去，我一点没味儿，”他说。

“可是我没有办法！”她回答，多少有点抑郁地。

正在这时候，小酒店里走出一个人来，手拿喇叭。她的心怦的一跳，因为她最喜欢的就是乘着马车在嘟嘟的喇叭声中行进。

她看到这些人都将那么快活地出去玩儿，而她得呆在家里，心里实在非常难过。他们都是那么兴高采烈的，她可以想象这次马车旅行和野餐的欢乐景象。她真要哭出来。

但是她一定不能去，她不好去：喇叭吹起预备号的时候，她重又把这话对自己重复了两遍。

又有两个人在急匆匆地赶来。到他们走近来的时候，丽莎看到他们是吉姆·布莱克斯顿和一个女人，她猜想大概是他的老婆。

“你也去吗，丽莎？”吉姆问她。

“不，”她回答。“我不知道你也去。”

“我希望你一起去．”他说；“我们还有比赛游戏呢？”

她只能强自抑制在喉咙口的呜咽；她是多么热切地但愿能去呵。

她非得留下，这确实似乎太使她伤心，而这就只因为她不准备嫁给汤姆。她想想毕竟这没有理由阻止她去；没有必要因此而拒绝他的邀请。她开始觉得自己做了蠢事：她坚决不跟汤姆一起去，这对任何人没有任何好处；她硬是屏弃她应有的欢乐，这又没有人会认为是什么特别的美德。萨莉只认为她是傻瓜而已。

汤姆站在旁边，缄默着，一副失望和很沮丧的样子。吉姆低声对她说——

“你不去，我真遗憾！”

这话对她反应太大了。她本来就是那么想要去，这回她实在无法抵制这诱惑了。只要汤姆再请她一次，只要她能合于情理而体面地改变一下主意，她就接受了；可是他站着一声不响。她只好自己开口。这确实有失尊严。

“你知道，汤姆，”她说，“我不愿意煞你节日的风景。’’

“唉，我不想一个人去，去了也没趣。”

假如这会儿他再请一请她呢！她会怎么样？

她抬头看看小酒店前面的钟，八点半还差五分。要是车子开了，而他还不请她，那该多糟糕！她的心在胸口猛烈地跳跃．她紧张得尽扭弄她的围裙角。

“那么，我该怎么办呢，亲爱的汤姆？’’

“那么，当然跟我一起去啰。哦，丽莎，说声‘好’吧。”

她终于得到了再次的邀请，这一下只需要稍微表示一点好象犹豫的样子，事情就解决了。

“我愿意去，汤姆．”她说，“不过，你看这会有什么不好吗？”

“当然不会有什么不好。一起去吧，丽莎！’’他心情激动，一把握住了她的手。“好，”她说，沉下了头，“要是那会煞了你节日的风景——”“你不去的话，我也不去——杀我头也不去！”他回答说。“不过，如果我去，并不表示我跟你作伴。”“不，这不会表示任何你所不喜欢的什么。”“好！”她说。“那你去了吧？’’他不大相信她的应允。“去！”她满面笑容地回答。“你真是个好姑娘，丽莎！喂，哈利，丽莎也去了！”他喊道。“丽莎？好——！”哈利叫起来。“是真的吗，丽莎？”萨莉大声问。丽莎感到非常欢欣愉快，也叫了起来——“是啊！”“好哇！”萨莉嚷着应答。“那才对了，丽莎，”吉姆说；他瞧着她，笑吟吟地。“这儿正好你们两个坐，”哈利指着他旁边的空档。“好！”汤姆说。“我还得去拿顶帽子，再告诉声妈妈，’’丽莎说。“只有三分钟啦。快啊！’’汤姆回答，一面在丽莎拼命奔去的时候，他大声对马车夫说，“老朋友，还有一个乘客，_会儿就来。”

“好，小伙子，”马车夫说；“不用急！”

丽莎冲进屋子，对她还睡着的母亲说——

“妈妈！妈妈！我到庆福去！”

她随即把身上的旧衣服拉掉，倏地穿上她那件漂亮的紫罗兰颜色的新衣裳；她踢掉破烂的旧鞋子，穿上了她的新皮鞋。她把头发往下撂了撂，把前刘海匆匆拨弄一下——幸亏前天星期六卷好的还成样子——戴上她那插满羽毛的黑帽子，直往街上奔，跌跌撞撞爬上马车的踏板，喘着气倒在汤姆身上。

马车夫挥响皮鞭子，喇叭手嘟嘟地吹起喇叭，在车上的一片叫嚷和欢呼声中，这辆四轮大马车喀啦喀啦地顺着大道驶去了。

引用

Chapter 5

As soon as Liza had recovered herself she started examining the people on the brake; and first of all she took stock of the woman whom Jim Blakeston had with him.

'This is my missus!' said Jim, pointing to her with his thumb.

'You ain't been dahn in the street much, 'ave yer?' said Liza, by way of making the acquaintance.

'Na,' answered Mrs. Blakeston, 'my youngster's been dahn with the measles, an' I've 'ad my work cut out lookin' after 'im.'

'Oh, an' is 'e all right now?'

'Yus, 'e's gettin' on fine, an' Jim wanted ter go ter Chingford ter-day, an' 'e says ter me, well, 'e says, "You come along ter Chingford, too; it'll do you good." An' 'e says, "You can leave Polly"--she's my eldest, yer know--"you can leave Polly," says 'e, "ter look after the kids." So I says, "Well, I don't mind if I do," says I.'

Meanwhile Liza was looking at her. First she noticed her dress: she wore a black cloak and a funny, old-fashioned black bonnet; then examining the woman herself, she saw a middle-sized, stout person anywhere between thirty and forty years old. She had a large, fat face with a big mouth, and her hair was curiously done, parted in the middle and plastered down on each side of the head in little plaits. One could see that she was a woman of great strength, notwithstanding evident traces of hard work and much child-bearing.

Liza knew all the other passengers, and now that everyone was settled down and had got over the excitement of departure, they had time to greet one another. They were delighted to have Liza among them, for where she was there was no dullness. Her attention was first of all taken up by a young coster who had arrayed himself in the traditional costume--grey suit, tight trousers, and shiny buttons in profusion.

'Wot cheer, Bill!' she cried to him.

'Wot cheer, Liza!' he answered.

'You are got up dossy, you'll knock 'em.'

'Na then, Liza Kemp,' said his companion, turning round with mock indignation, 'you let my Johnny alone. If you come gettin' round 'im I'll give you wot for.'

'Arright, Clary Sharp, I don't want 'im,' answered Liza. 'I've got one of my own, an' thet's a good 'andful--ain't it, Tom?'

Tom was delighted, and, unable to find a repartee, in his pleasure gave Liza a great nudge with his elbow.

''Oo, I say,' said Liza, putting her hand to her side. 'Tike care of my ribs; you'll brike 'em.'

'Them's not yer ribs,' shouted a candid friend--'them's yer whale-bones yer afraid of breakin'.'

'Garn!'

''Ave yer got whale-bones?' said Tom, with affected simplicity, putting his arm round her waist to feel.

'Na, then,' she said, 'keep off the grass!'

'Well, I only wanted ter know if you'd got any.'

'Garn; yer don't git round me like thet.'

He still kept as he was.

'Na then,' she repeated, 'tike yer 'and away. If yer touch me there you'll 'ave ter marry me.'

'Thet's just wot I wants ter do, Liza!'

'Shut it!' she answered cruelly, and drew his arm away from her waist.

The horses scampered on, and the man behind blew his horn with vigour.

'Don't bust yerself, guv'nor!' said one of the passengers to him when he made a particularly discordant sound. They drove along eastwards, and as the hour grew later the streets became more filled and the traffic greater. At last they got on the road to Chingford, and caught up numbers of other vehicles going in the same direction--donkey-shays, pony-carts, tradesmen's carts, dog-carts, drags, brakes, every conceivable kind of wheel thing, all filled with people, the wretched donkey dragging along four solid rate-payers to the pair of stout horses easily managing a couple of score. They exchanged cheers and greetings as they passed, the 'Red Lion' brake being noticeable above all for its uproariousness. As the day wore on the sun became hotter, and the road seemed more dusty and threw up a greater heat.

'I am getting 'ot!' was the common cry, and everyone began to puff and sweat.

The ladies removed their cloaks and capes, and the men, following their example, took off their coats and sat in their shirt-sleeves. Whereupon ensued much banter of a not particularly edifying kind respecting the garments which each person would like to remove--which showed that the innuendo of French farce is not so unknown to the upright, honest Englishman as might be supposed.

At last came in sight the half-way house, where the horses were to have a rest and a sponge down. They had been talking of it for the last quarter of a mile, and when at length it was observed on the top of a hill a cheer broke out, and some thirsty wag began to sing 'Rule Britannia', whilst others burst forth with a different national ditty, 'Beer, Glorious Beer!' They drew up before the pub entrance, and all climbed down as quickly as they could. The bar was besieged, and potmen and barmaids were quickly busy drawing beer and handing it over to the eager folk outside.

THE IDYLL OF CORYDON AND PHYLLIS.

Gallantry ordered that the faithful swain and the amorous shepherdess should drink out of one and the same pot.

''Urry up an' 'ave your whack,' said Corydon, politely handing the foaming bowl for his fair one to drink from.

Phyllis, without replying, raised it to her lips and drank deep. The swain watched anxiously.

''Ere, give us a chanst!' he said, as the pot was raised higher and higher and its contents appeared to be getting less and less.

At this the amorous shepherdess stopped and handed the pot to her lover.

'Well, I'm dashed!' said Corydon, looking into it; and added: 'I guess you know a thing or two.' Then with courtly grace putting his own lips to the place where had been those of his beloved, finished the pint.

'Go' lumme!' remarked the shepherdess, smacking her lips, 'that was somethin' like!' And she put out her tongue and licked her lips, and then breathed deeply.

The faithful swain having finished, gave a long sigh, and said:

'Well, I could do with some more!'

'For the matter of thet, I could do with a gargle!'

Thus encouraged, the gallant returned to the bar, and soon brought out a second pint.

'You 'ave fust pop,' amorously remarked Phyllis, and he took a long drink and handed the pot to her.

She, with maiden modesty, turned it so as to have a different part to drink from; but he remarked as he saw her:

'You are bloomin' particular.'

Then, unwilling to grieve him, she turned it back again and applied her ruby lips to the place where his had been.

'Now we shan't be long!' she remarked, as she handed him back the pot.

The faithful swain took out of his pocket a short clay pipe, blew through it, filled it, and began to smoke, while Phyllis sighed at the thought of the cool liquid gliding down her throat, and with the pleasing recollection gently stroked her stomach. Then Corydon spat, and immediately his love said:

'I can spit farther than thet.'

'I bet yer yer can't.'

She tried, and did. He collected himself and spat again, further than before, she followed him, and in this idyllic contest they remained till the tootling horn warned them to take their places.

* * * * *

At last they reached Chingford, and here the horses were taken out and the drag, on which they were to lunch, drawn up in a sheltered spot. They were all rather hungry, but as it was not yet feeding-time, they scattered to have drinks meanwhile. Liza and Tom, with Sally and her young man, went off together to the nearest public-house, and as they drank beer, Harry, who was a great sportsman, gave them a graphic account of a prize-fight he had seen on the previous Saturday evening, which had been rendered specially memorable by one man being so hurt that he had died from the effects. It had evidently been a very fine affair, and Harry said that several swells from the West End had been present, and he related their ludicrous efforts to get in without being seen by anyone, and their terror when someone to frighten them called out 'Copper!' Then Tom and he entered into a discussion on the subject of boxing, in which Tom, being a shy and undogmatic sort of person, was entirely worsted. After this they strolled back to the brake, and found things being prepared for luncheon; the hampers were brought out and emptied, and the bottles of beer in great profusion made many a thirsty mouth thirstier.

'Come along, lidies an' gentlemen--if you are gentlemen,' shouted the coachman; 'the animals is now goin' ter be fed!'

'Garn awy,' answered somebody, 'we're not hanimals; we don't drink water.'

'You're too clever,' remarked the coachman; 'I can see you've just come from the board school.'

As the former speaker was a lady of quite mature appearance, the remark was not without its little irony. The other man blew his horn by way of grace, at which Liza called out to him:

'Don't do thet, you'll bust, I know you will, an' if you bust you'll quite spoil my dinner!'

Then they all set to. Pork-pies, saveloys, sausages, cold potatoes, hard-boiled eggs, cold bacon, veal, ham, crabs and shrimps, cheese, butter, cold suet-puddings and treacle, gooseberry-tarts, cherry-tarts, butter, bread, more sausages, and yet again pork-pies! They devoured the provisions like ravening beasts, stolidly, silently, earnestly, in large mouthfuls which they shoved down their throats unmasticated. The intelligent foreigner seeing them thus dispose of their food would have understood why England is a great nation. He would have understood why Britons never, never will be slaves. They never stopped except to drink, and then at each gulp they emptied their glass; no heel-taps! And still they ate, and still they drank--but as all things must cease, they stopped at last, and a long sigh of content broke from their two-and-thirty throats.

Then the gathering broke up, and the good folk paired themselves and separated. Harry and his lady strolled off to secluded byways in the forest, so that they might discourse of their loves and digest their dinner. Tom had all the morning been waiting for this happy moment; he had counted on the expansive effect of a full stomach to thaw his Liza's coldness, and he had pictured himself sitting on the grass with his back against the trunk of a spreading chestnut-tree, with his arm round his Liza's waist, and her head resting affectionately on his manly bosom. Liza, too, had foreseen the separation into couples after dinner, and had been racking her brains to find a means of getting out of it.

'I don't want 'im slobberin' abaht me,' she said; 'it gives me the sick, all this kissin' an' cuddlin'!'

She scarcely knew why she objected to his caresses; but they bored her and made her cross. But luckily the blessed institution of marriage came to her rescue, for Jim and his wife naturally had no particular desire to spend the afternoon together, and Liza, seeing a little embarrassment on their part, proposed that they should go for a walk together in the forest.

Jim agreed at once, and with pleasure, but Tom was dreadfully disappointed. He hadn't the courage to say anything, but he glared at Blakeston. Jim smiled benignly at him, and Tom began to sulk. Then they began a funny walk through the woods. Jim tried to go on with Liza, and Liza was not at all disinclined to this, for she had come to the conclusion that Jim, notwithstanding his 'cheek', was not ''alf a bad sort'. But Tom kept walking alongside of them, and as Jim slightly quickened his pace so as to get Liza on in front, Tom quickened his, and Mrs. Blakeston, who didn't want to be left behind, had to break into a little trot to keep up with them. Jim tried also to get Liza all to himself in the conversation, and let Tom see that he was out in the cold, but Tom would break in with cross, sulky remarks, just to make the others uncomfortable. Liza at last got rather vexed with him.

'Strikes me you got aht of bed the wrong way this mornin',' she said to him.

'Yer didn't think thet when yer said you'd come aht with me.' He emphasized the 'me'.

Liza shrugged her shoulders.

'You give me the 'ump,' she said. 'If yer wants ter mike a fool of yerself, you can go elsewhere an' do it.'

'I suppose yer want me ter go awy now,' he said angrily.

'I didn't say I did.'

'Arright, Liza, I won't stay where I'm not wanted.' And turning on his heel he marched off, striking through the underwood into the midst of the forest.

He felt extremely unhappy as he wandered on, and there was a choky feeling in his throat as he thought of Liza: she was very unkind and ungrateful, and he wished he had never come to Chingford. She might so easily have come for a walk with him instead of going with that beast of a Blakeston; she wouldn't ever do anything for him, and he hated her--but all the same, he was a poor foolish thing in love, and he began to feel that perhaps he had been a little exacting and a little forward to take offence. And then he wished he had never said anything, and he wanted so much to see her and make it up. He made his way back to Chingford, hoping she would not make him wait too long.

Liza was a little surprised when Tom turned and left them.

'Wot 'as 'e got the needle abaht?' she said.

'Why, 'e's jealous,' answered Jim, with a laugh.

'Tom jealous?'

'Yus; 'e's jealous of me.'

'Well, 'e ain't got no cause ter be jealous of anyone--that 'e ain't!' said Liza, and continued by telling him all about Tom: how he had wanted to marry her and she wouldn't have him, and how she had only agreed to come to Chingford with him on the understanding that she should preserve her entire freedom. Jim listened sympathetically, but his wife paid no attention; she was doubtless engaged in thought respecting her household or her family.

When they got back to Chingford they saw Tom standing in solitude looking at them. Liza was struck by the woebegone expression on his face; she felt she had been cruel to him, and leaving the Blakestons went up to him.

'I say, Tom,' she said, 'don't tike on so; I didn't mean it.'

He was bursting to apologize for his behaviour.

'Yer know, Tom,' she went on, 'I'm rather 'asty, an' I'm sorry I said wot I did.'

'Oh, Liza, you are good! You ain't cross with me?'

'Me? Na; it's you thet oughter be cross.'

'You are a good sort, Liza!'

'You ain't vexed with me?'

'Give me Liza every time; that's wot I say,' he answered, as his face lit up. 'Come along an' 'ave tea, an' then we'll go for a donkey-ride.'

The donkey-ride was a great success. Liza was a little afraid at first, so Tom walked by her side to take care of her, she screamed the moment the beast began to trot, and clutched hold of Tom to save herself from falling, and as he felt her hand on his shoulder, and heard her appealing cry: 'Oh, do 'old me! I'm fallin'!' he felt that he had never in his life been so deliciously happy. The whole party joined in, and it was proposed that they should have races; but in the first heat, when the donkeys broke into a canter, Liza fell off into Tom's arms and the donkeys scampered on without her.

'I know wot I'll do,' she said, when the runaway had been recovered. 'I'll ride 'im straddlewyse.'

'Garn!' said Sally, 'yer can't with petticoats.'

'Yus, I can, an' I will too!'

So another donkey was procured, this time with a man's saddle, and putting her foot in the stirrup, she cocked her leg over and took her seat triumphantly. Neither modesty nor bashfulness was to be reckoned among Liza's faults, and in this position she felt quite at ease.

'I'll git along arright now, Tom,' she said; 'you garn and git yerself a moke, and come an' jine in.'

The next race was perfectly uproarious. Liza kicked and beat her donkey with all her might, shrieking and laughing the white, and finally came in winner by a length. After that they felt rather warm and dry, and repaired to the public-house to restore themselves and talk over the excitements of the racecourse.

When they had drunk several pints of beer Liza and Sally, with their respective adorers and the Blakestons, walked round to find other means of amusing themselves; they were arrested by a coconut-shy.

'Oh, let's 'ave a shy!' said Liza, excitedly, at which the unlucky men had to pull out their coppers, while Sally and Liza made ludicrously bad shots at the coconuts.

'It looks so bloomin' easy,' said Liza, brushing up her hair, 'but I can't 'it the blasted thing. You 'ave a shot, Tom.'

He and Harry were equally unskilful, but Jim got three coconuts running, and the proprietors of the show began to look on him with some concern.

'You are a dab at it,' said Liza, in admiration.

They tried to induce Mrs. Blakeston to try her luck, but she stoutly refused.

'I don't old with such foolishness. It's wiste of money ter me,' she said.

'Na then, don't crack on, old tart,' remarked her husband, 'let's go an' eat the coconuts.'

There was one for each couple, and after the ladies had sucked the juice they divided them and added their respective shares to their dinners and teas. Supper came next. Again they fell to sausage-rolls, boiled eggs, and saveloys, and countless bottles of beer were added to those already drunk.

'I dunno 'ow many bottles of beer I've drunk--I've lost count,' said Liza; whereat there was a general laugh.

They still had an hour before the brake was to start back, and it was then the concertinas came in useful. They sat down on the grass, and the concert was begun by Harry, who played a solo; then there was a call for a song, and Jim stood up and sang that ancient ditty, 'O dem Golden Kippers, O'. There was no shyness in the company, and Liza, almost without being asked, gave another popular comic song. Then there was more concertina playing, and another demand for a song. Liza turned to Tom, who was sitting quietly by her side.

'Give us a song, old cock,' she said.

'I can't,' he answered. 'I'm not a singin' sort.' At which Blakeston got up and offered to sing again.

'Tom is rather a soft,' said Liza to herself, 'not like that cove Blakeston.'

They repaired to the public-house to have a few last drinks before the brake started, and when the horn blew to warn them, rather unsteadily, they proceeded to take their places.

Liza, as she scrambled up the steps, said: 'Well, I believe I'm boozed.'

The coachman had arrived at the melancholy stage of intoxication, and was sitting on his box holding his reins, with his head bent on his chest. He was thinking sadly of the long-lost days of his youth, and wishing he had been a better man.

Liza had no respect for such holy emotions, and she brought down her fist on the crown of his hat, and bashed it over his eyes.

'Na then, old jellybelly,' she said, 'wot's the good of 'avin' a fice as long as a kite?'

He turned round and smote her.

'Jellybelly yerself!' said he.

'Puddin' fice!' she cried.

'Kite fice!'

'Boss eye!'

She was tremendously excited, laughing and singing, keeping the whole company in an uproar. In her jollity she had changed hats with Tom, and he in her big feathers made her shriek with laughter. When they started they began to sing 'For 'e's a jolly good feller', making the night resound with their noisy voices.

Liza and Tom and the Blakestons had got a seat together, Liza being between the two men. Tom was perfectly happy, and only wished that they might go on so for ever. Gradually as they drove along they became quieter, their singing ceased, and they talked in undertones. Some of them slept; Sally and her young man were leaning up against one another, slumbering quite peacefully. The night was beautiful, the sky still blue, very dark, scattered over with countless brilliant stars, and Liza, as she looked up at the heavens, felt a certain emotion, as if she wished to be taken in someone's arms, or feel some strong man's caress; and there was in her heart a strange sensation as though it were growing big. She stopped speaking, and all four were silent. Then slowly she felt Tom's arm steal round her waist, cautiously, as though it were afraid of being there; this time both she and Tom were happy. But suddenly there was a movement on the other side of her, a hand was advanced along her leg, and her hand was grasped and gently pressed. It was Jim Blakeston. She started a little and began trembling so that Tom noticed it, and whispered:

'You're cold, Liza.'

'Na, I'm not, Tom; it's only a sort of shiver thet went through me.'

His arm gave her waist a squeeze, and at the same time the big rough hand pressed her little one. And so she sat between them till they reached the 'Red Lion' in the Westminster Bridge Road, and Tom said to himself: 'I believe she does care for me after all.'

When they got down they all said good night, and Sally and Liza, with their respective slaves and the Blakestons, marched off homewards. At the corner of Vere Street Harry said to Tom and Blakeston:

'I say, you blokes, let's go an' 'ave another drink before closin' time.'

'I don't mind,' said Tom, 'after we've took the gals 'ome.'

'Then we shan't 'ave time, it's just on closin' time now.' answered Harry.

'Well, we can't leave 'em 'ere.'

'Yus, you can,' said Sally. 'No one'll run awy with us.'

Tom did not want to part from Liza, but she broke in with:

'Yus, go on, Tom. Sally an' me'll git along arright, an' you ain't got too much time.'

'Yus, good night, 'Arry,' said Sally to settle the matter.

'Good night, old gal,' he answered, 'give us another slobber.'

And she, not at all unwilling, surrendered herself to him, while he imprinted two sounding kisses on her cheeks.

'Good night, Tom,' said Liza, holding out her hand.

'Good night, Liza,' he answered, taking it, but looking very wistfully at her.

She understood, and with a kindly smile lifted up her face to him. He bent down and, taking her in his arms, kissed her passionately.

'You do kiss nice, Liza,' he said, making the others laugh.

'Thanks for tikin' me aht, old man,' she said as they parted.

'Arright, Liza,' he answered, and added, almost to himself: 'God bless yer!'

''Ulloa, Blakeston, ain't you comin'?' said Harry, seeing that Jim was walking off with his wife instead of joining him and Tom.

'Na,' he answered, 'I'm goin' 'ome. I've got ter be up at five ter-morrer.'

'You are a chap!' said Harry, disgustedly, strolling off with Tom to the pub, while the others made their way down the sleeping street.

The house where Sally lived came first, and she left them; then, walking a few yards more, they came to the Blakestons', and after a little talk at the door Liza bade the couple good night, and was left to walk the rest of the way home. The street was perfectly silent, and the lamp-posts, far apart, threw a dim light which only served to make Lisa realize her solitude. There was such a difference between the street at midday, with its swarms of people, and now, when there was neither sound nor soul besides herself, that even she was struck by it. The regular line of houses on either side, with the even pavements and straight, cemented road, seemed to her like some desert place, as if everyone were dead, or a fire had raged and left it all desolate. Suddenly she heard a footstep, she started and looked back. It was a man hurrying behind her, and in a moment she had recognized Jim. He beckoned to her, and in a low voice called:

'Liza!'

She stopped till he had come up to her.

'Wot 'ave yer come aht again for?' she said.

'I've come aht ter say good night to you, Liza,' he answered.

'But yer said good night a moment ago.'

'I wanted to say it again--properly.'

'Where's yer missus?'

'Oh, she's gone in. I said I was dry and was goin' ter 'ave a drink after all.'

'But she'll know yer didn't go ter the pub.'

'Na, she won't, she's gone straight upstairs to see after the kid. I wanted ter see yer alone, Liza.'

'Why?'

He didn't answer, but tried to take hold of her hand. She drew it away quickly. They walked in silence till they came to Liza's house.

'Good night,' said Liza.

'Won't you come for a little walk, Liza?'

'Tike care no one 'ears you,' she added, in a whisper, though why she whispered she did not know.

'Will yer?' he asked again.

'Na--you've got to get up at five.'

'Oh, I only said thet not ter go inter the pub with them.'

'So as yer might come 'ere with me?' asked Liza.

'Yus!'

'No, I'm not comin'. Good night.'

'Well, say good night nicely.'

'Wot d'yer mean?'

'Tom said you did kiss nice.'

She looked at him without speaking, and in a moment he had clasped his arms round her, almost lifting her off her feet, and kissed her. She turned her face away.

'Give us yer lips, Liza,' he whispered--'give us yer lips.'

He turned her face without resistance and kissed her on the mouth.

At last she tore herself from him, and opening the door slid away into the house.

丽莎坐定下来，就开始细看车上的每一个人，首先打量着吉姆·布莱克斯顿带着的那个女人。

“这是我老婆！”吉姆用大拇指指着她说。

“你不大到街上来吧？”丽莎兜搭上去。

“不大上街，”布莱克斯顿太太回答，“我最小的孩子在发麻疹，我丢了工作在照看他。”

“噢，他现在好了吗？”

“好些了；今天吉姆要我到庆福去，他对我说：‘你也去吧，这对你有好处。，他又说：‘你可以让波莉在家里——波莉是我家的老大一可以让她在家照看孩子们”他这样说。所以我说：‘好吧，我就去。’’’

丽莎一直盯着她看。她先看她的衣着：她穿着一件黑色的外套，头上戴着一顶古怪的、老式的、黑色的无边帽子；然后端详着这个女人本身，她看她是中等身材，很强壮，年纪在三、四十岁之间。她长着一张又大又胖的脸，一张大嘴巴，头发做得很奇怪，中间分开，编成一条条小辫子，平贴在两边头上。你一看就知道她力大如牛，尽管明显地看得出她劳碌和生育繁多的痕迹。

其他的乘客丽莎都认识，现在大家坐定下来，动身时候的忙乱过去了，空下来彼此就招呼起来。他们有丽莎在一起，都很高兴，因为她到哪里，那里就有生气。第一个她注意到的是个卖水果的小贩，他穿着传统的服装——一套灰色西装，裤子包得紧紧的，周身上下钉满了亮晶晶的钮子。

“多有劲，比尔！”丽莎大声对他说。

“多有劲，丽莎！”他回答。

“你打扮得这么漂亮，要把他们全压倒啦。’’

“喂，喂，丽莎·肯普，”他的女伴假装火冒的样子对她说，“你不要跟我的宝贝拉拉扯扯。你搭上了他，我可要给你颜色看。”

“好，克莱莉·夏普，我不要他，”丽莎回答她。“我自己也有，这事儿可够麻烦的，汤姆，对不对？”

汤姆听了很乐意，可是找不到一句机智的对话，只是用臂肘子对丽莎猛力撞了一下。

“嗬——，你啊，”丽莎说，用手按在一边的腰里。“当心我的肋骨都要被你撞断啦。”

“那不是你的肋骨，’’一个老实朋友说——“你是怕碰坏了你撑紧身衣的鲸骨。”

“去你的！”

“你紧身衣上装鲸骨吗？”汤姆问，一边假装天真，伸手到她腰里去摸。

“喂，喂，”她说，“不要动手动脚！”

“嗯，我只是想知道你那里面有没有鲸骨。”

“去你的！别跟我耍花招。”

他还是不把手收回来。

“喂，喂．”她重复说，“把手拿下。你要是碰了我那个，你就非娶我不可。”

“我正是要娶你嘛，丽莎！”

“闭嘴！”她凶狠地回答，同时把他的手从她腰里拉开去。

前面双马齐奔，后面吹喇叭的吹得起劲。

“别吹炸了，老爷！”其中一个乘客听他吹出了一声特别刺耳的怪声来，对他说。

他们向前驶去，过了半个把小时，街路上渐渐热闹起来，来往车辆也多了。终于他们赶上了去庆福的大路，追上了一大批在向着同一方向行进的车辆——驴车、小马车、运输马车、单匹马拉的车、四轮大马车、游览马车，各种各式的车辆应有尽有，都坐满了人，一只瘦骨嶙峋的驴子拖着四个肥硕的上等市民的也有，两匹壮马轻松地拖着四十个人的也有。

他们一面行进，一面嘻嘻哈哈谈笑欢呼，红狮酒店的那辆四轮大马车喧闹得最引入注意。

早晨渐渐过去，太阳越来越猛烈，只觉路上尘土飞扬，热气蒸腾，越来越厉害。

“我热死了！”这是普通的呼声，每个人都喘着气，流起汗来。

女的乘客们脱去外套和披肩，男的学她们样，也脱下外套，单穿着衬衫坐着。接着，拿每个人心里最好脱掉什么作话题，大开玩笑，越说越不象话。这说明正派、老实的英国人对法国闹剧中的那种暗示性的语言也不是想象的那么陌生的。

终于望见了那家中途客栈，两匹马可以停憩一会，用海绵擦洗一下。他们在过去的一里路程中一直谈着这家中途客栈，最后他们看到它出现在一个小山顶上，不由得欢呼起来，有个口渴得要命的爱开玩笑的人唱起了英国国歌，而另外有些人高声齐唱另一支同国歌一样为大家所熟悉的民歌《啤酒，啤酒万岁！》

马车到了酒店门口，人人争先恐后地爬下车子。酒店的柜台一下被占满了，男女侍者急忙拿啤酒端来给外面这些焦渴的来客。柯里登和菲丽丝的牧歌注

风流豪放要求忠实的放牛郎和多情的牧羊女从同一只酒罐里喝酒。

“快来，你先喝，”柯里登彬彬有礼地捧起溢着泡沫的酒罐给他女伴喝。

菲丽丝不声不响把酒罐举到嘴唇边，开怀畅饮。牛郎瞧着，心里发急。

“嗳，让我也喝一口！”他眼看酒罐越举越高，里面的酒好象越来越少，连忙说道。

多情的牧羊女停了下来，把酒罐递给她的情人。

“哦，天晓得！”柯里登朝罐子里看看，这样说道，接着又说，“我想你总懂得的。”于是他雍容大方地把自己的嘴唇贴在他心上人的嘴唇刚才贴过处，喝完了这一品脱的啤酒。

“天哪！”牧羊女咂咂嘴说，“真够味儿！”她又伸出舌头，舔舔嘴唇，然后深深地吸了口气。

忠实的放牛郎喝完后，长叹一声，说道一

“嗳，我还能喝些！”

“你说这个呀，我还能大口地好好喝些呢！’’

殷勤的牛郎受到鼓励，就回到柜台上，立即又拿来了一品脱。

“你先喝．”菲丽丝情意绵绵地说。柯里登一连喝了几口，把酒罐递给菲丽丝。

她，由于少女的羞怯，把罐子转了一下，想要换一边喝；但是他看了说——

“你怪别扭的。”

她为了不要使他不高兴，仍把罐子转过来，红宝石般鲜艳的嘴唇按上了他的嘴唇按过的地方。

“时间差不多了！”她说，一边把酒罐交还给他。

忠实的牛郎从口袋里掏出一支短短的陶土烟斗，吹吹通，装满了烟丝，开始抽起烟来；而菲丽丝想着冰凉的清液在喉咙里往下淌去的味儿，觉得回味无穷，叹息一声，轻轻地抚摸着肚子。

这时候柯里登吐了一口唾液，他的情侣立刻说——

“我能吐得比你远。”

“我肯定你不能。”

她试了，果然吐得比他远。他使了劲再吐，比原来的远，她也再吐，他们一直进行着这牧歌式的竞赛，直到嘟嘟的喇叭声叫他们准备各就各位。

最后，他们到达了庆福，马解了下来，车子拖到一个有遮盖的地方，待会儿要在这里进午餐。

他们都相当饿了，可是现在还没到吃饭的时候，他们就先分散去喝一点什么。丽莎和汤姆，跟萨莉和她的男朋友，一起到了附近一家小酒店。

他们在喝啤酒的时候，哈利——他是个运动好手，有声有色地讲给他们听，他在上星期六晚上看到的一场职业拳击赛，特别令人难忘的是一个人被打伤得厉害，结果死掉了。这当然是一场非常精采的表演。哈利说那天来了几个西区的时髦人士，他讲他们偷偷地溜进来的可笑样子，还讲了有个人故意吓他们，哇的一声“买票！”把他们吓得魂飞魄散的那副狼狈相。

接着，汤姆和他在拳击问题上争论起来。汤姆羞羞答答的，又不会一篇大道理，根本不是哈利的对手。

后来他们一起散步回到四轮大马车那儿，只见他们正在准备午餐；一只只大篮子在搬出来，从篮子里拿出吃的、喝的，看着一瓶瓶啤酒，叫那些干渴的嘴巴更干渴。

“来啊，女士们，先生们——如果你们确是上等先生的话．”马车夫喊道，“现在要喂牲口了！”

“滚开，”有人呵斥他，“我们可不是牲口；我们不喝水。”

“你太聪明了，”马车夫说；“我看得出你是刚从公立小学校出来的。”

前面说话的那个是个模样已经是半老的女人，所以他这样回答她的话里不无小小的讽刺。

另一个人吹着喇叭表示感谢上帝，丽莎提高了嗓门对他说“别吹啦；你要炸掉了，我看你准要炸掉。你一炸，我们的午餐就扫兴了！”

这会儿他们开始进午餐了。猪肉饼，咸味香肠，淡味香肠，冷土豆，鸡蛋，冷咸肉，小牛肉，火腿，虾，蟹，干酪，黄油，浇糖蜜的板油布丁，醋栗馅饼，樱桃馅饼，黄油面包，又是香肠，又是猪肉饼！

他们狼吞虎咽，拼命地、默不作声地、专心一志地、大口大口把各式各样吃的东西尽往喉咙里塞。有知识的外国人看到他们这样吃东西，就会懂得为什么英国能成为强大的国家。他会懂得为什么英国人永远、永远不会做奴隶。

他们尽是吃，除非停下来喝酒；喝起酒来，一杯一口干，不剩一点底！他们尽是吃呀，喝呀，然而任何事情都必然有终止的时候，他们终究结束了，三十二个喉咙里都发出了满足的长叹。

然后聚餐散场，这些善良的人们各自一对对走开去了。

哈利和他的女伴散步拐进了森林注中隐蔽的小径里，去谈情说爱，消化他们的这顿午餐。

汤姆整个上午一直等待着这个时刻的到来。他相信吃得饱饱的肚子一定有助于消融丽莎的冷漠。他想象自己坐在草地上，背靠着一棵枝叶茂盛的栗树的树干，手臂揽着他的丽莎的腰，她的头温柔地倒在他男性的胸窝里。丽莎也预料到午餐后大家要一对对分开，所以动足脑筋要设法逃避这个情况。

“我不要他缠着我，’’她说；“接吻呀，拥抱呀，这些都叫我嫌恶！”

她自己也不懂，为什么她不要他爱抚，可是他的爱抚就是使她讨厌．惹她生气。幸亏上帝赐福的婚姻制度帮她的忙，因为吉姆·布莱克斯顿和他妻子自然不大愿意两个人在一起度过这个下午；丽莎看到他们俩都有点尴尬的样子，就建议她跟他们一起到森林里去散步。

吉姆答应得快，而且表示十分乐意；汤姆却大失所望。他没有勇气说什么话，只是对布莱克斯顿瞪着眼睛。吉姆对他满不在乎地笑笑，而汤姆绷起了脸。

他们就这样开始了在森林里的蹊跷的散步。

吉姆尽量要跟丽莎走在一起，丽莎对此丝毫不觉反感，因为她已经得出这样的结论，认为吉姆虽然“老面皮”，却决不是“坏东西”。但是汤姆走在他们旁边。吉姆稍微加快些步子，使丽莎走到前面去，汤姆也加快步子，布莱克斯顿太太不愿落在后面，不得不连走带奔地保持跟他们并排着。

吉姆还尽量要使丽莎只跟他一个人谈话，让汤姆觉得被冷搁着，但是汤姆偏要插入几句生硬的憋气的话，徒使其余的人都不愉快。丽莎终于对他恼火了。

“我看你准是今天一早起来见了鬼，”她对他说。

“你答应跟我一起来的时候，没有这么想吧。”他把这个“我”字说得特别重。

丽莎耸耸肩膀。

“你使我扫兴，”她说。“你要让自己做傻瓜的话，你到别处去做傻瓜好了。”

“你这是叫我走开口罗。”他愤愤地说。

“我没说我要你走开。”

“好，丽莎，我不要呆在不要我呆着的地方。”说着他旋转脚跟，冲着擦着他身子的矮树丛的枝丫，大步向森林的深处走去。

他一面信步走去，一面无限地悲怆，想着丽莎，喉咙口有窒息的感觉：她太无情无义，他懊悔到庆福来的。她完全可以和他散散步，而不去跟布莱克斯顿那个畜生一起走的；她就是不肯对他好好的，他恨她——然而他又自认毕竟是爱情中的自私的可怜虫，他开始感到也许是自己太苛求了些，太容易生气了些。他因此又悔恨自己本该一句话都不说的，他是多么想到她面前去赔不是。他又回头向庆福走，希望她不要让他等得太久。

当汤姆转身离开他们的时候，丽莎有点诧异。

“他生什么气？”她说。

“什么气，妒忌嘛，”吉姆笑着回答。

“汤姆妒忌？’’

“是呀，他妒忌我，”

“怎么，他没有理由妒忌任何人——他没有理由！”丽莎说，接下来她把关于汤姆的一切都告诉了他：他如何要娶她而她不要他，她又是如何跟他讲好保留完全的自由，才答应跟他一起到庆福来的。

吉姆同情地听着，但是他妻子却不闻不问，无疑是一心惦念着她的家或者她的孩子们。

他们回到庆福的时候，看见汤姆孤单单站在那里瞧着他们。丽莎看见他脸上沮丧的神情，心中有所感动，觉得自己待他太冷酷无情，于是离开了布莱克斯顿夫妇，走到他跟前。

“嗳，汤姆，”她说，“别那么放在心上；我并不是有心惹你不高兴。”

他拼命对自己的行为表示抱歉。

“你知道．汤姆，”她继续说，“我太急躁，我不该说了刚才的话，对不起你。”

“噢，丽莎，你真好！你没生我的气吗？”

“我？不；该是你生我的气。”

“你真是个好姑娘，丽莎！”

“你不生我的气吗？”

“让我始终跟丽莎在一起；这就是我说的，”他说着，脸上闪现出喜悦的光芒。“我们去吃茶点，回头再去骑驴子。”

骑驴子玩得很开心。

丽莎开头有点害怕，所以汤姆走在她旁边当心她。那牲畜一开始小步跑起来的时候，她尖声叫了，紧紧抓住汤姆，生怕摔倒下来。他感觉到她的手搁在他肩胛上，听她动人地叫喊“噢，抱住我，我要掉下来了！”他觉得一生从没有这样甜美地快乐过。

一伙人全来骑驴子了。他们建议来骑驴比赛。但是在第一场比赛中，驴子一跑动，丽莎就跌倒在汤姆怀里，驴子独自蹦跳着继续向前跑去了。

“我知道我该怎么骑了，”她在跑掉的驴子被迫了回来之后说，“我跨着骑。”

“胡说！”萨莉说，“你穿着裙子怎么行？”

“行，我能行；我偏要跨着骑！”

于是，另外弄来了一头驴子，这回是装着给男人骑的鞍子。她把脚套进铁镫，翘起腿来，一跃而得意地在鞍子上坐下了。丽莎是不怕羞的；她跨骑在鞍上十分自在。

“这回我行了，汤姆，”她说，“你也去弄头驴子来，一起参加。”

这一回的比赛可热闹了。

丽莎使劲踢着、用鞭子抽着她的驴子，同时又是尖叫，又是大笑，最后她把人家甩了一大段，获得了胜利。

这场比赛之后，大伙又热又渴，都到小酒店去休息，谈论赛驴子的盛况。

他们喝了几品脱啤酒之后，丽莎和萨莉，同她们各自的爱慕者，还有布莱克斯顿夫妻俩，一起周围兜兜，寻找有什么其他的游乐，他们被投椰子的玩意吸引住了。

“好，我们来投一下！”丽莎兴奋地说，这就得那些倒霉的男人掏出些铜币来。萨莉和丽莎对着椰子投去，可都不知偏到什么地方去了，叫人好笑。

“看看怪容易的，”丽莎说，把头发往上一掠，“可我却投不中那个该死的东西。你投投看，汤姆。”

他和哈利同样都不高明，然而吉姆一连投中三只椰子。摆摊子的人看着他，有点急起来。

“你可是个能手，”丽莎赞扬他。

他们想要叫布莱克斯顿太太也试试运气，但是她坚决不干。

“我不赞成做这种蠢事。我只认为是白费钱，”她说。

“那么，别唠叨了，老太婆，”她丈夫说，“我们来吃椰子吧。”

三只椰子正好每一对拿一只，在女的吮吸干了椰子汁之后，他们把椰子切开，各自留些在吃饭、吃点心的时候吃。

进晚餐了。他们重又大吃香肠卷，鸡蛋，咸香肠；一瓶瓶啤酒喝完又来，来了又喝。

“我不知喝了多少瓶啤酒——我都数不清了，’’丽莎说，引起哄然大笑。

他们还有一个小时，四轮大马车就要掉头回去了，这时候手风琴派用处了。

他们在草地上坐下，音乐会由哈利开场，他拉了个独奏曲；接着大家喊着要求唱支歌。吉姆站起身来，唱了那支古老的《啊，金色的小伙子，啊！》在这一群伙伴中间不存在忸忸怩怩，所以丽莎几乎自告奋勇地也唱了一支流行的喜剧歌曲。随后又是手风琴演奏，和要求唱支歌的叫喊。

丽莎转身对默默坐在她旁边的汤姆说一

“给我们唱支歌，老朋友。”

“我不会唱，”他回答说。“我不会唱歌。”他正在说这个话，吉姆站了起来，说他再来唱一个。

“汤姆真是个脓包，”丽莎心想，“不象布莱克斯顿那个家伙。”

他们又一齐到小酒店，在马车上路之前，最后再喝几杯，直到喇叭发出有些抖动的嘟嘟声，催大伙上车，他们才在车上一个个坐下。

丽莎在爬上马车梯级的时候说，“唷，我看我喝醉了。”

马车夫已经喝得醉到感伤的境地，坐在驾驶座上，手执缰绳，头耷拉在胸前。他悲怆地回想着他早巳消逝的年轻时代，懊悔当初没做个更好的人。

丽莎并不尊重这种神圣的感情，她伸出拳头在他帽子顶上啪的一下，帽子压没了他的眼睛。

“喂，老混蛋，”她说，“你把脸拉得风筝那么长干吗呀？”

他回过头来骂她——

“你自己混蛋！”

“死面团样的脸！”她嚷道。

“风筝脸！”

“斗鸡眼！”

她兴奋得不得了，大笑大唱，把整个这伙人引得闹成一片喧嚣。她在欢乐中拿汤姆的帽子戴在自己头上，把自己的帽子戴在汤姆头上，汤姆戴着她那顶插满羽毛的大帽子，她笑得尖声怪叫起来。

他们的车子开动的时候，大家唱起《原来他是一个大好人》．喧闹的歌声响彻夜空。

丽莎和汤姆和布莱克斯顿夫妇坐在一排位子上，丽莎坐在汤姆和布莱克斯顿中间。汤姆开心极厂，但愿他们能一直这样下去。

车子一路驶去，他们渐渐静了下来，歌不唱了，说话也压低着声音。他们中间有的睡着了；萨莉和她的情人相互偎依，安稳地打着瞌睡。

夜色美妙，天上还是一片蔚蓝，很暗，散布着无数闪烁的明星。丽莎仰望天空，感到一种激动的心情，仿佛但愿被抱在什么人的怀里，或者感受什么强壮的男人的抚爱。她心中有种奇异的似乎在膨胀的感觉。

她停止了说话，他们四个人都不作声。

后来，慢慢地她觉得汤姆的手臂在偷偷向她腰里伸过来，小心翼翼地，似乎又怕伸在那里；这会儿她和汤姆都乐滋滋的。

但是，忽然她另外一边有什么在蠕动，一只手在她腿上伸过来，她的手被握住，被轻轻地挤捏着。那是吉姆·布莱克斯顿。她吃了一惊，发起抖来，汤姆觉得她在发抖，便在她耳边低声问她——

“你冷啦，丽莎。”

“不，我不冷，汤姆；只是身上一阵哆嗦。”

他的手在她腰里扭了一把，同时另一边的那只粗壮的大手捏捏她的小手。

她就这样坐在他们两个的中间，直到到达威斯敏斯特桥大道的红狮酒店。汤姆心想，“我相信她毕竟是对我有意思的。”

大伙下了马车，彼此互道晚安分手。萨莉和丽莎，同她们各自的奴隶和布莱克斯顿夫妻俩一起朝回家的路上走。到维尔街转角上，哈利对汤姆和布莱克斯顿说一

“我说，伙计们，让我们趁酒店没打烊之前再去喝一杯。”

“我没意见．”汤姆说，“不过我们得先把姑娘们送回了家。”

“那来不及，现在正快打烊了，”哈利回答。

“可我们不能就在这里丢下她们啊。”

“没事，你们去好了，”萨莉说。“没有人会带我们跑掉的。”

汤姆不愿离开丽莎，但是丽莎插上来说——

“对，你们去，汤姆。萨莉和我会好好自己回去的；你们没有太多时间了，赶紧去吧。”

“好吧，明天见，哈利，”萨莉说，事情就这样定下来了。

“明天见，好姑娘，”他说，“再给我亲一下。”

萨莉毫不犹豫地凑上前去，让他在她两边面颊上咂咂地亲了两个吻。

“明天见，汤姆，”丽莎说着，伸出手去。

“明天见，丽莎，”他回答，一面握住她的手，可是非常尴尬地瞧着她。

她懂得，于是和蔼地一笑，抬起脸蛋向着他。他俯身把她抱在怀里，热烈地吻她。

“你吻得真好，丽莎，”他这样说，惹得旁边的人都笑了起来。

“谢谢你带我出外玩，好朋友，”她在分手时说。

“没什么，丽莎，”他回答，然后几乎自言自语地加了一句：“上帝保佑你！’’

“喂，布莱克斯顿，你一起去吗？’’哈利看见吉姆不跟他们合在一起而跟他妻子一起走了，问他。

“不．”他回答说，“我回家去r．我明天五点钟就得起床。”

“你这家伙！”哈利扫兴地说，随即和汤姆一同走了，其余的人沿着这沉睡的小街回家去。

萨莉先到家，她离开了他们；他们再走几步，到了布莱克斯顿家门口，站定下来谈了几句，丽莎向这对夫妇道了晚安，剩下自己一个人在路上走。

街上静悄悄的，一支支灯柱相隔很远，投下微弱的光线徒使丽莎倍感孤独。此刻的街道和白天完全两个样子，白天街上全是人群，此刻除了她自己之外，不见一个人影，也没有半点声息，连她都害怕起来。眼前两边房屋平整的线条、截齐的人行道、笔直的马路，她只觉得似乎是个荒无人烟的地方，仿佛所有的人都死了，或者一场大火已经把它变成一片废墟。

突然她听到脚步声，一吓，回头看去，原来有个人在背后急急赶来。她一下子就认出那是吉姆。

他向她招手，低声叫唤——

“丽莎！”

她站定下来，等他走到她面前。

“你又跑来干吗？”她问。

“我出来跟你说‘明天见’的，丽莎”，他答道。

“可你刚才不是已经说过了吗？”

“我要重说一遍——正正式式地。”

“你老婆呢？”

“哦，她回家了。我说我口渴，还要最后喝杯酒。”

“但是她会知道你不是去小酒店的。”

“不’她不会知道；她已经一路上楼去照看孩子了。我要单独见到你。’’

“为什么？”

他不答话，却想要握住她的手。她迅速把手缩回。他们默默无言地往前走，直到丽莎家门口。

“明天见．”丽莎说。

“不跟我散一会步吗，丽莎？”

“当心别让人听见你，”她在他耳朵边小声地说，虽然她自己也不知道为什么要这样。

“你去吗？”他又问了一遍。

“不——你五点钟就得起床的。”

“噢，我说这个，只是为了不跟他们一起到小酒店去。”

“就是为了可以到这里来找我一起去散步吗？”丽莎问他。

“正是！”

“不，我不去。明天见。”

“呃，你要好好地说‘明天见’呀。”

“你是什么意思？”

“汤姆说你吻得真好。”

她瞧着他不说话，他一下把她紧紧搂抱住，几乎把她提起到双脚离了地，亲吻着她。她把脸掉开些。

“给我亲你的嘴，丽莎．”他小声地说——“给我亲你的嘴。”

他把她的脸旋回过来，丽莎并不推避，他亲了她的嘴。

最后，她挣脱了他，倏地开门溜进了屋里去。

引用

Chapter 6

Next morning on her way to the factory Liza came up with Sally. They were both of them rather stale and bedraggled after the day's outing; their fringes were ragged and untidily straying over their foreheads, their back hair, carelessly tied in a loose knot, fell over their necks and threatened completely to come down. Liza had not had time to put her hat on, and was holding it in her hand. Sally's was pinned on sideways, and she had to bash it down on her head every now and then to prevent its coming off. Cinderella herself was not more transformed than they were; but Cinderella even in her rags was virtuously tidy and patched up, while Sally had a great tear in her shabby dress, and Liza's stockings were falling over her boots.

'Wot cheer, Sal!' said Liza, when she caught her up.

'Oh, I 'ave got sich a 'ead on me this mornin'!' she remarked, turning round a pale face: heavily lined under the eyes.

'I don't feel too chirpy neither,' said Liza, sympathetically.

'I wish I 'adn't drunk so much beer,' added Sally, as a pang shot through her head.

'Oh, you'll be arright in a bit,' said Liza. Just then they heard the clock strike eight, and they began to run so that they might not miss getting their tokens and thereby their day's pay; they turned into the street at the end of which was the factory, and saw half a hundred women running like themselves to get in before it was too late.

All the morning Liza worked in a dead-and-alive sort of fashion, her head like a piece of lead with electric shocks going through it when she moved, and her tongue and mouth hot and dry. At last lunch-time came.

'Come on, Sal,' said Liza, 'I'm goin' to 'ave a glass o' bitter. I can't stand this no longer.'

So they entered the public-house opposite, and in one draught finished their pots. Liza gave a long sigh of relief.

'That bucks you up, don't it?'

'I was dry! I ain't told yer yet, Liza, 'ave I? 'E got it aht last night.'

'Who d'yer mean?'

'Why, 'Arry. 'E spit it aht at last.'

'Arst yer ter nime the day?' said Liza, smiling.

'Thet's it.'

'And did yer?'

'Didn't I jest!' answered Sally, with some emphasis. 'I always told yer I'd git off before you.'

'Yus!' said Liza, thinking.

'Yer know, Liza, you'd better tike Tom; 'e ain't a bad sort.' She was quite patronizing.

'I'm goin' ter tike 'oo I like; an' it ain't nobody's business but mine.'

'Arright, Liza, don't get shirty over it; I don't mean no offence.'

'What d'yer say it for then?'

'Well, I thought as seeing as yer'd gone aht with 'im yesterday thet yer meant ter after all.'

''E wanted ter tike me; I didn't arsk 'im.'

'Well, I didn't arsk my 'Arry, either.'

'I never said yer did,' replied Liza.

'Oh, you've got the 'ump, you 'ave!' finished Sally, rather angrily.

The beer had restored Liza: she went back to work without a headache, and, except for a slight languor, feeling no worse for the previous day's debauch. As she worked on she began going over in her mind the events of the preceding day, and she found entwined in all her thoughts the burly person of Jim Blakeston. She saw him walking by her side in the Forest, presiding over the meals, playing the concertina, singing, joking, and finally, on the drive back, she felt the heavy form by her side, and the big, rough hand holding hers, while Tom's arm was round her waist. Tom! That was the first time he had entered her mind, and he sank into a shadow beside the other. Last of all she remembered the walk home from the pub, the good nights, and the rapid footsteps as Jim caught her up, and the kiss. She blushed and looked up quickly to see whether any of the girls were looking at her; she could not help thinking of that moment when he took her in his arms; she still felt the roughness of his beard pressing on her mouth. Her heart seemed to grow larger in her breast, and she caught for breath as she threw back her head as if to receive his lips again. A shudder ran through her from the vividness of the thought.

'Wot are you shiverin' for, Liza?' asked one of the girls. 'You ain't cold.'

'Not much,' answered Liza, blushing awkwardly on her meditations being broken into. 'Why, I'm sweatin' so--I'm drippin' wet.'

'I expect yer caught cold in the Faurest yesterday.'

'I see your mash as I was comin' along this mornin'.'

Liza stared a little.

'I ain't got one, 'oo d'yer mean, ay?'

'Yer only Tom, of course. 'E did look washed aht. Wot was yer doin' with 'im yesterday?'

''E ain't got nothin' ter do with me, 'e ain't.'

'Garn, don't you tell me!'

The bell rang, and, throwing over their work, the girls trooped off, and after chattering in groups outside the factory gates for a while, made their way in different directions to their respective homes. Liza and Sally went along together.

'I sy, we are comin' aht!' cried Sally, seeing the advertisement of a play being acted at the neighbouring theatre.

'I should like ter see thet!' said Liza, as they stood arm-in-arm in front of the flaring poster. It represented two rooms and a passage in between; in one room a dead man was lying on the floor, while two others were standing horror-stricken, listening to a youth who was in the passage, knocking at the door.

'You see, they've 'killed im,' said Sally, excitedly.

'Yus, any fool can see thet! an' the one ahtside, wot's 'e doin' of?'

'Ain't 'e beautiful? I'll git my 'Arry ter tike me, I will. I should like ter see it. 'E said 'e'd tike me to the ply.'

They strolled on again, and Liza, leaving Sally, made her way to her mother's. She knew she must pass Jim's house, and wondered whether she would see him. But as she walked along the street she saw Tom coming the opposite way; with a sudden impulse she turned back so as not to meet him, and began walking the way she had come. Then thinking herself a fool for what she had done, she turned again and walked towards him. She wondered if she had seen her or noticed her movement, but when she looked down the street he was nowhere to be seen; he had not caught sight of her, and had evidently gone in to see a mate in one or other of the houses. She quickened her step, and passing the house where lived Jim, could not help looking up; he was standing at the door watching her, with a smile on his lips.

'I didn't see yer, Mr. Blakeston,' she said, as he came up to her.

'Didn't yer? Well, I knew yer would; an' I was witin' for yer ter look up. I see yer before ter-day.'

'Na, when?'

'I passed be'ind yer as you an' thet other girl was lookin' at the advertisement of thet ply.'

'I never see yer.'

'Na, I know yer didn't. I 'ear yer say, you says: "I should like to see thet."'

'Yus, an' I should too.'

'Well, I'll tike yer.'

'You?'

'Yus; why not?'

'I like thet; wot would yer missus sy?'

'She wouldn't know.'

'But the neighbours would!'

'No they wouldn't, no one 'd see us.'

He was speaking in a low voice so that people could not hear.

'You could meet me ahtside the theatre,' he went on.

'Na, I couldn't go with you; you're a married man.'

'Garn! wot's the matter--jest ter go ter the ply? An' besides, my missus can't come if she wanted, she's got the kids ter look after.'

'I should like ter see it,' said Liza meditatively.

They had reached her house, and Jim said:

'Well, come aht this evenin' and tell me if yer will--eh, Liza?'

'Na, I'm not comin' aht this evening.'

'Thet won't 'urt yer. I shall wite for yer.'

''Tain't a bit of good your witing', 'cause I shan't come.'

'Well, then, look 'ere, Liza; next Saturday night's the last night, an' I shall go to the theatre, any'ow. An' if you'll come, you just come to the door at 'alf-past six, an' you'll find me there. See?'

'Na, I don't,' said Liza, firmly.

'Well, I shall expect yer.'

'I shan't come, so you needn't expect.' And with that she walked into the house and slammed the door behind her.

Her mother had not come in from her day's charing, and Liza set about getting her tea. She thought it would be rather lonely eating it alone, so pouring out a cup of tea and putting a little condensed milk into it, she cut a huge piece of bread-and-butter, and sat herself down outside on the doorstep. Another woman came downstairs, and seeing Liza, sat down by her side and began to talk.

'Why, Mrs. Stanley, wot 'ave yer done to your 'ead?' asked Liza, noticing a bandage round her forehead.

'I 'ad an accident last night,' answered the woman, blushing uneasily.

'Oh, I am sorry! Wot did yer do to yerself?'

'I fell against the coal-scuttle and cut my 'ead open.'

'Well, I never!'

'To tell yer the truth, I 'ad a few words with my old man. But one doesn't like them things to get abaht; yer won't tell anyone, will yer?'

'Not me!' answered Liza. 'I didn't know yer husband was like thet.'

'Oh, 'e's as gentle as a lamb when 'e's sober,' said Mrs. Stanley, apologetically. 'But, Lor' bless yer, when 'e's 'ad a drop too much 'e's a demond, an' there's no two ways abaht it.'

'An' you ain't been married long neither?' said Liza.

'Na, not above eighteen months; ain't it disgriceful? Thet's wot the doctor at the 'orspital says ter me. I 'ad ter go ter the 'orspital. You should have seen 'ow it bled!--it bled all dahn' my fice, and went streamin' like a bust waterpipe. Well, it fair frightened my old man, an' I says ter 'im, "I'll charge yer," an' although I was bleedin' like a bloomin' pig I shook my fist at 'im, an' I says, "I'll charge ye--see if I don't!" An' 'e says, "Na," says 'e, "don't do thet, for God's sike, Kitie, I'll git three months." "An' serve yer damn well right!" says I, an' I went aht an' left 'im. But, Lor' bless yer, I wouldn't charge 'im! I know 'e don't mean it; 'e's as gentle as a lamb when 'e's sober.' She smiled quite affectionately as she said this.

'Wot did yer do, then?' asked Liza.

'Well, as I wos tellin' yer, I went to the 'orspital, an' the doctor 'e says to me, "My good woman," says 'e, "you might have been very seriously injured." An' me not been married eighteen months! An' as I was tellin' the doctor all about it, "Missus," 'e says ter me, lookin' at me straight in the eyeball. "Missus," says 'e, "'ave you been drinkin'?" "Drinkin'?" says I; "no! I've 'ad a little drop, but as for drinkin'! Mind," says I, "I don't say I'm a teetotaller--I'm not, I 'ave my glass of beer, and I like it. I couldn't do withaht it, wot with the work I 'ave, I must 'ave somethin' ter keep me tergether. But as for drinkin' 'eavily! Well! I can say this, there ain't a soberer woman than myself in all London. Why, my first 'usband never touched a drop. Ah, my first 'usband, 'e was a beauty, 'e was."'

She stopped the repetition of her conversation and addressed herself to Liza.

''E was thet different ter this one. 'E was a man as 'ad seen better days. 'E was a gentleman!' She mouthed the word and emphasized it with an expressive nod.

''E was a gentleman and a Christian. 'E'd been in good circumstances in 'is time; an' 'e was a man of education and a teetotaller, for twenty-two years.'

At that moment Liza's mother appeared on the scene.

'Good evenin', Mrs. Stanley,' she said, politely.

'The sime ter you, Mrs. Kemp.' replied that lady, with equal courtesy.

'An' 'ow is your poor 'ead?' asked Liza's mother, with sympathy.

'Oh, it's been achin' cruel. I've hardly known wot ter do with myself.'

'I'm sure 'e ought ter be ashimed of 'imself for treatin' yer like thet.'

'Oh, it wasn't 'is blows I minded so much, Mrs. Kemp,' replied Mrs. Stanley, 'an' don't you think it. It was wot 'e said ter me. I can stand a blow as well as any woman. I don't mind thet, an' when 'e don't tike a mean advantage of me I can stand up for myself an' give as good as I tike; an' many's the time I give my fust husband a black eye. But the language 'e used, an' the things 'e called me! It made me blush to the roots of my 'air; I'm not used ter bein' spoken ter like thet. I was in good circumstances when my fust 'usband was alive, 'e earned between two an' three pound a week, 'e did. As I said to 'im this mornin', "'Ow a gentleman can use sich language, I dunno."'

''Usbands is cautions, 'owever good they are,' said Mrs. Kemp, aphoristically. 'But I mustn't stay aht 'ere in the night air.'

''As yer rheumatism been troublin' yer litely?' asked Mrs. Stanley.

'Oh, cruel. Liza rubs me with embrocation every night, but it torments me cruel.'

Mrs. Kemp then went into the house, and Liza remained talking to Mrs. Stanley, she, too, had to go in, and Liza was left alone. Some while she spent thinking of nothing, staring vacantly in front of her, enjoying the cool and quiet of the evening. But Liza could not be left alone long, several boys came along with a bat and a ball, and fixed upon the road just in front of her for their pitch. Taking off their coats they piled them up at the two ends, and were ready to begin.

'I say, old gal,' said one of them to Liza, 'come an' have a gime of cricket, will yer?'

'Na, Bob, I'm tired.'

'Come on!'

'Na, I tell you I won't.'

'She was on the booze yesterday, an' she ain't got over it,' cried another boy.

'I'll swipe yer over the snitch!' replied Liza to him, and then on being asked again, said:

'Leave me alone, won't yer?'

'Liza's got the needle ter-night, thet's flat,' commented a third member of the team.

'I wouldn't drink if I was you, Liza,' added another, with mock gravity. 'It's a bad 'abit ter git into,' and he began rolling and swaying about like a drunken man.

If Liza had been 'in form' she would have gone straight away and given the whole lot of them a sample of her strength; but she was only rather bored and vexed that they should disturb her quietness, so she let them talk. They saw she was not to be drawn, and leaving her, set to their game. She watched them for some time, but her thoughts gradually lost themselves, and insensibly her mind was filled with a burly form, and she was again thinking of Jim.

''E is a good sort ter want ter tike me ter the ply,' she said to herself. 'Tom never arst me!'

Jim had said he would come out in the evening; he ought to be here soon, she thought. Of course she wasn't going to the theatre with him, but she didn't mind talking to him; she rather enjoyed being asked to do a thing and refusing, and she would have liked another opportunity of doing so. But he didn't come and he had said he would!

'I say, Bill,' she said at last to one of the boys who was fielding close beside her, 'that there Blakeston--d'you know 'im?'

'Yes, rather; why, he works at the sime plice as me.'

'Wot's 'e do with 'isself in the evening; I never see 'im abaht?'

'I dunno. I see 'im this evenin' go into the "Red Lion". I suppose 'e's there, but I dunno.'

Then he wasn't coming. Of course she had told him she was going to stay indoors, but he might have come all the same--just to see.

'I know Tom 'ud 'ave come,' she said to herself, rather sulkily.

'Liza! Liza!' she heard her mother's voice calling her.

'Arright, I'm comin',' said Liza.

'I've been witin' for you this last 'alf-hour ter rub me.'

'Why didn't yer call?' asked Liza.

'I did call. I've been callin' this last I dunno 'ow long; it's give me quite a sore throat.'

'I never 'eard yer.'

'Na, yer didn't want ter 'ear me, did yer? Yer don't mind if I dies with rheumatics, do yer? I know.'

Liza did not answer, but took the bottle, and, pouring some of the liniment on her hand, began to rub it into Mrs. Kemp's rheumatic joints, while the invalid kept complaining and grumbling at everything Liza did.

'Don't rub so 'ard, Liza, you'll rub all the skin off.'

Then when Liza did it as gently as she could, she grumbled again.

'If yer do it like thet, it won't do no good at all. You want ter sive yerself trouble--I know yer. When I was young girls didn't mind a little bit of 'ard work--but, law bless yer, you don't care abaht my rheumatics, do yer?'

At last she finished, and Liza went to bed by her mother's side.

第二天早晨，丽莎在赶着去工厂的路上，追上了萨莉。她们俩经过一天出外玩乐，都疲惫、零乱不堪，前刘海乱七八糟地披在脑门子上，后面的头发胡乱地打成了一个松散的发结，悬在颈根上，好象随时会散开来。丽莎没来得及把她的帽子戴上，就拎在手里。萨莉的帽子用别针别着，歪在半边；她得不断用力把它往头上揿牢，不让掉下来。

即使灰姑娘也没有她们这样不成样子；灰姑娘衣衫尽管破烂，也打好补丁，穿得整整齐齐，而萨莉的破旧衣裳撕裂了一大片，丽莎的袜子卸到了鞋面上。

“你好吗，萨莉！”丽莎赶上了她，招呼她。

“唷，我今天早上头痛得厉害哪！”她说，转过一张苍白的脸来，眼睛底下显出深深的纹痕。

“我也不太舒服，”丽莎有同感地说。

“我不该喝了那么多啤酒，”萨莉头里一阵剧痛，又补充了一句。

“哦，一会儿你就好了，”丽莎说。

就在这时候，她们听见钟声敲响八点，她们赶紧奔跑，不要迟到了拿不到牌子，因而拿不到这一天的工资。她们拐进一条街，工厂在这条街的尽头处；只见六七十个女工象她们一样在拼命地奔，要赶在上班时间之前进厂门。

整个上午，丽莎有气无力地干着活，头稍微动一动，就象一块铅受到一次电流冲击；舌头和嘴里又是发烧，又是干渴。

总算午餐时间到来了。

“来呀，萨莉，”丽莎说；“我要去喝一杯。我再也受不住了。”

于是她们走进对面的小酒店，各人一杯啤酒，一口就喝完了。丽莎深深地舒了一口气。

“这东西倒真给人提精神，是不是？’’

“我刚才口干得要死。我没有告诉你吧，丽莎？一一‘他昨夜说出口了。”

“你说什么？”

“嗳，哈利嘛。他终于说出口了。”

“叫你定日子吗？’’丽莎笑嘻嘻问。

“是啊。”

“那你定了吗？”

“早先我不是说笑话吧！”萨莉加强了口气说。“我一直对你说的，我将比你先出嫁。’’

“是啊！”丽莎想了想说。

“我劝你，丽莎，你还是要汤姆好；他这人不坏。”她用着好象是保护人的口吻说。

“我爱准，就要谁；这是我的事，不用别人管。”

“好吧，丽莎，别恼火，我不是有意惹犯你。”

“那你说这些干吗？”

“哦，我看见你昨天跟他一起去郊游¨总以为你终究还是要他了。”

“他要带我一起去，我可没叫他带我去。"

“是啊，我也不是叫我的哈利带我去的。"

“我从来没说过是你叫他的嘛。”

“噢，你在闹别扭，准是！”萨莉气呼呼地说。

啤酒使丽莎恢复了精神I她回到厂里工作．头也不痛了。昨天狂饮狂欢，这会儿除了还有点吃力之外，倒不觉得有什么不舒服。

她一面干活，一面回想着昨天的一桩桩事情，只觉得她思想里始终纠缠着那个粗壮的人——吉姆·布莱克斯顿。她在头脑里看见他跟她并肩在森林中散步，看见他主持野餐、拉手风琴、唱歌、说笑话I最后她感觉到在马车回来的途中，她身旁那个高大的汉子，他的又粗又大的手握着她的手，同时汤姆的臂膀揽着她的腰。

汤姆！他这才第一次出现在她的脑海里，但是随即又在那另一个人的旁边沉落了下去。

最后她回忆起从小酒店散步回家、几次说“明天见”、吉姆赶上来的捷速的脚步、还有接吻。

她一阵脸红，急忙看看有没有姑娘们瞧着她。她不禁想起他把她抱在怀里的那个时刻；她此刻还感觉到他的胡子覆在她嘴上的刺激。她的心似乎在胸窝里膨胀起来，她仰起头透口气，仿佛再次迎着他的嘴唇。

想到这生动的情景，她周身哆嗦起来。

“你怎么在发抖，丽莎？"一个姑娘问她。“你不冷吧？”

“不冷．’’丽莎说着，她因为被人闯进了她的沉思默想的境界而羞赧。“怎么，我还在出汗——汗在淌下来。”

“我当你准是在森林里着凉了，”那姑娘说。

“我今天早晨上班来的时候看见你的男朋友，”另一个姑娘说。

丽莎略微一愣。

“我没有男朋友；你说谁？”

“当然是你的汤姆口罗。他垂头丧气的。你昨天对他怎么样啦？”

“我跟他没有关系，没有。’’

“得了；别跟我来这一套。”

铃声响了，姑娘们丢掉生活，一哄而出。她们三三两两在厂门口闲谈几句，各自分头回家去。丽莎和萨莉一起走。

“总算下班了！”萨莉大声说，一边看着正在附近戏院上演的一出戏剧的广告。

“那个戏我要去看！”丽莎和萨莉手挽手站在那引人注目的广告前面，这样说。

广告上画着两间房间，中间一条走廊I一间房间里地板上躺着一个死人，另外有两个人非常惊慌地听着走廊里一个年轻人在敲门。

“你瞧，他们把他杀了，”萨莉兴奋地说。

“是啊，哪个笨蛋都看得出！问题是外面那个呢？他是干什么来着的？’’

“他可漂亮哪！我要叫哈利带我去看，一定叫他带我去。这个戏我要看。他说了要带我去看的。”

她们又往前走。丽莎和萨莉分了手，各自回家。

丽莎知道必须经过吉姆家门口，只不知会不会看到他。可是她沿着小街走去的时候，看见汤姆正迎面走来。她突然一个念头想回避他，旋转身子退回去。后来她想这样做也愚蠢，便重新回转身来，朝着他走。

她不知他会不会已经看到她，或者注意到了她在转去转来。但是当她向前看去的时候，他却不见了。他没有看到她，而且显然是跑进哪一幢房子去看他的朋友了。

她加速脚步；在经过吉姆住的房子的时候，不由自主地看望一下。他正站在门口注视着她，嘴角上挂着微笑。

“我没看见你，布莱克斯顿先生，”她看他走上前来，对他说。

“你没有看见吗？嗯，我料到你会看见我的；我在等你朝这边看。我今天已经先见到过你。”

“不；什么时候？”

“我路上经过，看见你和另外一个姑娘在看那个戏剧广告。”

“我可没有看见你。’’

“没有，我知道你没有看见。我听见你说，你说，-那个戏我要去看。”’

“是的，我是要去看。”

“好吧，那我带你去。”

“你？”

“是啊；有什么不好？”

“好是好，可是你老婆会说什么呢？”

“她不会知道。”

“可邻居会知道的！”

“不，他们不会知道；没有人会看到我们。”

他低声地说，不让人听到。

“你可以在戏院外面跟我碰头，”他接着说。

“不，我不能跟你一起去；你是个有了老婆的人。”

“见鬼！那有什么关系——就去看看戏嘛？而且，我老婆要一起去也不行；她要管那些孩子。’’

“我去是想去，”丽莎再三琢磨着说。

他们到了她家门口，吉姆说——

“嗳，今晚上你出来，告诉我你到底去不去——好吗，丽莎？”

“不，我今晚上不出来。”

“你出来一趟也不妨事嘛。反正我等你。”

“你等也没用，因为我不会出来的。”

“好，那么，这样吧，丽莎；这个星期六晚上是最后一场，我是无论如何要去的。如果你也去的话，那就六点半到戏院门口，我会在那里等着你的。好吗？”

“不，我不去，”丽莎坚决地说，

“不管怎么样，到时候我等你。”

“我不会去的，所以你不必白等。”她说完就走进了屋里，把门砰的关上了。

她母亲在外面打杂工，还没有回家；丽莎准备点心吃。她觉得一个人吃怪寂寞的，因此她倒了杯茶，里面加了一点炼乳，又切了一大块黄油面包，坐到了门口的石阶上。

另外一个女人下楼来，看见丽莎，就在她旁边坐下，交谈起来。

“怎么，斯坦利太太，你头上怎么啦？”丽莎看见她头上包着绷带，问她。

“昨天夜里我不当心把头岸弄开了。”那女人回答，窘得脸涨得通红。

“啊，真可怜！你怎么弄开的？”

“我跌倒在煤斗上，把头撞开了。”

“唷，幸亏我从没有过。’’

“老实告诉你吧，丽莎，我跟我那老家伙吵了几句。不过我不喜欢这些事情传开去；你不会跟人家说吧，嗯？”

“我决不会说！”丽莎答道。“想不到你丈夫是那样的。”

“嗳，他清醒的时候可温柔哪——小绵羊般地温柔，”斯坦利太太辩解说。“但是，老天爷，他多喝了一点，就变了个魔鬼，竟然拿他没有办法。”

“你不是结婚还没多久吗？”丽莎说。

“没多久，还不过一年半；好不丢人？医院里医生就是这样对我说的。我只好到医院里去。你没有看见血流得可厉害哪！——满面都是血，血象炸开的自来水管那样直喷。这下我那老家伙可真害怕了；我对他说，‘我告你。’我虽然象屠宰场里的猪一样流着血，还是挥着拳头对他说，‘我告你一一不告你才怪！，而他说，‘不，’他说，‘别告我，看上帝份上，基蒂，我要吃三个月官司的。’

“‘活该！’我说完，就往外跑。

“可是，天哪．我没去告他！我知道他心眼儿不坏；他在清醒的时候象小绵羊一样温柔。”她说这话的时候，情意深长地微笑着。

“那你后来怎么样？”丽莎问。

“我吗．我对你说了，我跑到了医院里，医生对我说，．好女人，’他说，‘你好象伤得很厉害哪。’

“我——我结婚还没一年半！

“我把情况全都讲给医生听，他听了说，‘太大，’他直盯着我的眼睛说．‘太太，’他说，‘你一向喝酒吗？’

“‘喝酒？’我说，‘不！我稍微呷过几口，至于你说一向喝酒吧，那——’我说，‘我确实不是个滴酒不进的人，我不是；我也喝杯啤酒，我喜欢。我不喝不行，我有那么多活要干，总得喝一点什么支持精神。可是，至于大喝呢，那，我可以这样说，整个伦敦找不到一个比我更清醒的女人。’

“唉，我第一个丈夫才真是滴酒不进的。啊，我第一个丈夫真是个美男子，真是个美男子。”

她终止了重复的话头，又对丽莎说——

“他跟现在这个大不相同。他曾经过过好日子。他是个上等人！”她一个个字眼咬得着着实实，还表情十足地点点头。

“他是个上等人，是个基督徒。他原先景况很好I他是个有教养的人，二十二年没碰过一口酒。”

正说得起劲，来了丽莎的母亲。

“晚上好，斯坦利太太，”她彬彬有礼地说。

“你也好，肯普太太．”那个女人同样有礼貌地回答。

“你的可怜的头怎么样？”丽莎的母亲同情地问。

“噢，痛得要死。我不知怎么办。”

“他这样对待你，该觉得可耻。”

“噢，肯普太太，我对于他打我倒不怎么在乎．”斯坦利太太答道，“你不要以为我怨这个。我是气他对我说的话。我同任何女人一样受得起拳头。拳头我不放在心上，如果他不是无耻地趁我不宜动手的时候打我，我也能站起来狠狠揍他，而且不知多少次我把我第一个丈夫打得鼻青眼肿。可是现在这冤家骂我的那些下流话！听了羞死人，我听不惯这样对我说话。我第一个丈夫活着的时候，我景况好，他一个星期能挣两、三英镑哪。今天早晨我对他说，‘上等人怎么说得出这种话．我真不懂。’”

“再好的丈夫也是莫名其妙的，”肯普太太警句式地说。“我不能尽在这儿夜晚的空气里呆着。"

“近来你的风湿发作得怎么样？”

“啊，可厉害哪。丽莎每夜替我搽药，还是痛得要命。”

肯普太太回到了屋里去，丽莎继续跟斯坦利太太交谈着。后来斯坦利太太也回屋里去了，剩下丽莎一个人。

她头脑里空空地站了一会，茫然望着前面，欣赏着夜晚的凉爽和静谧。

然而丽莎不可能长久没人打扰她。几个男孩子拿着球板和球儿过来，拣中她面前的街面作球场。他们脱下外套，在两头堆起了球门，准备开场打球。

“我说，好姑娘，”其中一个对丽莎说，“来跟我们一起玩一场板球，好吗？”

“我不来，鲍勃，我很累。”

“来吧！”

“不来，我对你说不来嘛。”

“她昨天喝醉了，还没有醒过来，”另一个孩子大声说。

“我揍你！”丽莎对他说。

他们再三叫她，她说——

“别缠着我，好不好？”

“丽莎在不开心，很明显，”球队里的另一个说。

“如果我是你，我才不喝酒哩，”又一个孩子装着一本正经的样子加上一句。“喝上了酒不好，”说完，他摇摇晃晃做出醉鬼的样子。

要是当时丽莎“竞技状态良好”的话，她早已冲出去，给他们大伙儿点颜色看看了；但她仅是厌烦他们打扰了她的安宁，所以让他们讲去。

他们看看拉她不动，也就撇下她，自己去玩了。

她观看了一会他们的游戏，渐渐神思恍惚，心中不知不觉让一个粗壮的人形盘踞着，她重又尽是想着吉姆。

“他好，他要请我去看戏，”她心想。“汤姆从没有请过我！”

吉姆刚才说，他晚上要出来的，她想这时候他该快来了。

当然她不准备同他一起去看戏，不过她乐于跟他聊聊；她喜欢有人求她而又拒绝人家的请求，她希望再有机会重演一次。但是他不来，而他又明明说好要来的！

“喂，比尔，”最后她对那一伙中的一个守外场的孩子说，“那边住的那个布莱克斯顿——你认识他吗？”

“认识，当然认识；怎么，他是跟我在同一个地方做生活的。”

“他今晚在干什么？我没看见他出来过。”

“我不知道。我看见他今晚走进红狮酒店的。我想他大概在那里，不过我吃不准。’’

那么，他是不来了。诚然她对他说过她今夜不出门的，可是他还是可以来——就来看看嘛。

“我知道，换了汤姆，他会来的．”她抑郁地心里想。

“丽莎！丽莎！”她听见她母亲的声音在叫她。

“嗳，我来了，”丽莎说。

“我这半个钟头一直等着你来替我搽药。’’

“你干吗不叫我？”丽莎问。

“我叫了。我不知叫了多长时间，喉咙都叫痛了。”

“我一点没听见。’’

“你不听见，你会要听见我吗？我害风湿死了，你也不管，你会管？我知道。”

丽莎不吭声，只是拿出药瓶，在手上倒了些油膏，开始往肯普太太患风湿的关节上擦，那患者却尽是埋怨和责怪丽莎。

“别擦得那么重，丽莎，你要把我的皮肤都擦下来了。”

而丽莎尽量小心地轻轻给她擦时，她又责怪起来。

“你要是这样擦法，一点用处也没有。你怕吃力——我知道你。在我年轻时候，姑娘们从来不怕出点力气——可是，天晓得，你却一点不顾我的风湿I你顾吗？”

总算她唠叨完了。丽莎上床，在她母亲身旁睡下。

引用

Chapter 7

Two days passed, and it was Friday morning. Liza had got up early and strolled off to her work in good time, but she did not meet her faithful Sally on the way, nor find her at the factory when she herself arrived. The bell rang and all the girls trooped in, but still Sally did not come. Liza could not make it out, and was thinking she would be shut out, when just as the man who gave out the tokens for the day's work was pulling down the shutter in front of his window, Sally arrived, breathless and perspiring.

'Whew! Go' lumme, I am 'ot!' she said, wiping her face with her apron.

'I thought you wasn't comin',' said Liza.

'Well, I only just did it; I overslep' myself. I was aht lite last night.'

'Were yer?'

'Me an' 'Arry went ter see the ply. Oh, Liza, it's simply spiffin'! I've never see sich a good ply in my life. Lor'! Why, it mikes yer blood run cold: they 'ang a man on the stige; oh, it mide me creep all over!'

And then she began telling Liza all about it--the blood and thunder, the shooting, the railway train, the murder, the bomb, the hero, the funny man--jumbling everything up in her excitement, repeating little scraps of dialogue--all wrong--gesticulating, getting excited and red in the face at the recollection. Liza listened rather crossly, feeling bored at the detail into which Sally was going: the piece really didn't much interest her.

'One 'ud think yer'd never been to a theatre in your life before,' she said.

'I never seen anything so good, I can tell yer. You tike my tip, and git Tom ter tike yer.'

'I don't want ter go; an' if I did I'd py for myself an' go alone.'

'Cheese it! That ain't 'alf so good. Me an' 'Arry, we set together, 'im with 'is arm round my wiste and me oldin' 'is 'and. It was jam, I can tell yer!'

'Well, I don't want anyone sprawlin' me abaht, thet ain't my mark!'

'But I do like 'Arry; you dunno the little ways 'e 'as; an' we're goin' ter be married in three weeks now. 'Arry said, well, 'e says, "I'll git a licence." "Na," says I, "'ave the banns read aht in church: it seems more reg'lar like to 'ave banns; so they're goin' ter be read aht next Sunday. You'll come with me 'an 'ear them, won't yer, Liza?"'

'Yus, I don't mind.'

On the way home Sally insisted on stopping in front of the poster and explaining to Liza all about the scene represented.

'Oh, you give me the sick with your "Fital Card", you do! I'm goin' 'ome.' And she left Sally in the midst of her explanation.

'I dunno wot's up with Liza,' remarked Sally to a mutual friend. 'She's always got the needle, some'ow.'

'Oh, she's barmy,' answered the friend.

'Well, I do think she's a bit dotty sometimes--I do really,' rejoined Sally.

Liza walked homewards, thinking of the play; at length she tossed her head impatiently.

'I don't want ter see the blasted thing; an' if I see that there Jim I'll tell 'im so; swop me bob, I will.'

She did see him; he was leaning with his back against the wall of his house, smoking. Liza knew he had seen her, and as she walked by pretended not to have noticed him. To her disgust, he let her pass, and she was thinking he hadn't seen her after all, when she heard him call her name.

'Liza!'

She turned round and started with surprise very well imitated. 'I didn't see you was there!' she said.

'Why did yer pretend not ter notice me, as yer went past--eh, Liza?'

'Why, I didn't see yer.'

'Garn! But you ain't shirty with me?'

'Wot 'ave I got to be shirty abaht?'

He tried to take her hand, but she drew it away quickly. She was getting used to the movement. They went on talking, but Jim did not mention the theatre; Liza was surprised, and wondered whether he had forgotten.

'Er--Sally went to the ply last night,' she said, at last.

'Oh!' he said, and that was all.

She got impatient.

'Well, I'm off!' she said.

'Na, don't go yet; I want ter talk ter yer,' he replied.

'Wot abaht? anythin' in partickler?' She would drag it out of him if she possibly could.

'Not thet I knows on,' he said, smiling.

'Good night!' she said, abruptly, turning away from him.

'Well, I'm damned if 'e ain't forgotten!' she said to herself, sulkily, as she marched home.

The following evening about six o'clock, it suddenly struck her that it was the last night of the 'New and Sensational Drama'.

'I do like thet Jim Blakeston,' she said to herself; 'fancy treatin' me like thet! You wouldn't catch Tom doin' sich a thing. Bli'me if I speak to 'im again, the ----. Now I shan't see it at all. I've a good mind ter go on my own 'ook. Fancy 'is forgettin' all abaht it, like thet!'

She was really quite indignant; though, as she had distinctly refused Jim's offer, it was rather hard to see why.

''E said 'e'd wite for me ahtside the doors; I wonder if 'e's there. I'll go an' see if 'e is, see if I don't--an' then if 'e's there, I'll go in on my own 'ook, jist ter spite 'im!'

She dressed herself in her best, and, so that the neighbours shouldn't see her, went up a passage between some model lodging-house buildings, and in this roundabout way got into the Westminster Bridge Road, and soon found herself in front of the theatre.

'I've been witin' for yer this 'alf-hour.'

She turned round and saw Jim standing just behind her.

''Oo are you talkin' to? I'm not goin' to the ply with you. Wot d'yer tike me for, eh?'

''Oo are yer goin' with, then?'

'I'm goin' alone.'

'Garn! don't be a bloomin' jackass!'

Liza was feeling very injured.

'Thet's 'ow you treat me! I shall go 'ome. Why didn't you come aht the other night?'

'Yer told me not ter.'

She snorted at the ridiculous ineptitude of the reply.

'Why didn't you say nothin' abaht it yesterday?'

'Why, I thought you'd come if I didn't talk on it.'

'Well, I think you're a ---- brute!' She felt very much inclined to cry.

'Come on, Liza, don't tike on; I didn't mean no offence.' And he put his arm round her waist and led her to take their places at the gallery door. Two tears escaped from the corners of her eyes and ran down her nose, but she felt very relieved and happy, and let him lead her where he would.

There was a long string of people waiting at the door, and Liza was delighted to see a couple of niggers who were helping them to while away the time of waiting. The niggers sang and danced, and made faces, while the people looked on with appreciative gravity, like royalty listening to de Reske, and they were very generous of applause and halfpence at the end of the performance. Then, when the niggers moved to the pit doors, paper boys came along offering _Tit-Bits_ and 'extra specials'; after that three little girls came round and sang sentimental songs and collected more halfpence. At last a movement ran through the serpent-like string of people, sounds were heard behind the door, everyone closed up, the men told the women to keep close and hold tight; there was a great unbarring and unbolting, the doors were thrown open, and, like a bursting river, the people surged in.

Half an hour more and the curtain went up. The play was indeed thrilling. Liza quite forgot her companion, and was intent on the scene; she watched the incidents breathlessly, trembling with excitement, almost beside herself at the celebrated hanging incident. When the curtain fell on the first act she sighed and mopped her face.

'See 'ow 'ot I am.' she said to Jim, giving him her hand.

'Yus, you are!' he remarked, taking it.

'Leave go!' she said, trying to withdraw it from him.

'Not much,' he answered, quite boldly.

'Garn! Leave go!' But he didn't, and she really did not struggle very violently.

The second act came, and she shrieked over the comic man; and her laughter rang higher than anyone else's, so that people turned to look at her, and said:

'She is enjoyin' 'erself.'

Then when the murder came she bit her nails and the sweat stood on her forehead in great drops; in her excitement she even called out as loud as she could to the victim, 'Look aht!' It caused a laugh and slackened the tension, for the whole house was holding its breath as it looked at the villains listening at the door, creeping silently forward, crawling like tigers to their prey.

Liza trembling all over, and in her terror threw herself against Jim, who put both his arms round her, and said:

'Don't be afride, Liza; it's all right.'

At last the men sprang, there was a scuffle, and the wretch was killed, then came the scene depicted on the posters--the victim's son knocking at the door, on the inside of which were the murderers and the murdered man. At last the curtain came down, and the house in relief burst forth into cheers and cheers; the handsome hero in his top hat was greeted thunderously; the murdered man, with his clothes still all disarranged, was hailed with sympathy; and the villains--the house yelled and hissed and booed, while the poor brutes bowed and tried to look as if they liked it.

'I am enjoyin' myself,' said Liza, pressing herself quite close to Jim; 'you are a good sort ter tike me--Jim.'

He gave her a little hug, and it struck her that she was sitting just as Sally had done, and, like Sally, she found it 'jam'.

The _entr'actes_ were short and the curtain was soon up again, and the comic man raised customary laughter by undressing and exposing his nether garments to the public view; then more tragedy, and the final act with its darkened room, its casting lots, and its explosion.

When it was all over and they had got outside Jim smacked his lips and said:

'I could do with a gargle; let's go onto thet pub there.'

'I'm as dry as bone,' said Liza; and so they went.

When they got in they discovered they were hungry, and seeing some appetising sausage-rolls, ate of them, and washed them down with a couple of pots of beer; then Jim lit his pipe and they strolled off. They had got quite near the Westminster Bridge Road when Jim suggested that they should go and have one more drink before closing time.

'I shall be tight,' said Liza.

'Thet don't matter,' answered Jim, laughing. 'You ain't got ter go ter work in the mornin' an' you can sleep it aht.'

'Arright, I don't mind if I do then, in for a penny, in for a pound.'

At the pub door she drew back.

'I say, guv'ner,' she said, 'there'll be some of the coves from dahn our street, and they'll see us.'

'Na, there won't be nobody there, don't yer 'ave no fear.'

'I don't like ter go in for fear of it.'

'Well, we ain't doin' no 'arm if they does see us, an' we can go into the private bar, an' you bet your boots there won't be no one there.'

She yielded, and they went in.

'Two pints of bitter, please, miss,' ordered Jim.

'I say, 'old 'ard. I can't drink more than 'alf a pint,' said Liza.

'Cheese it,' answered Jim. 'You can do with all you can get, I know.'

At closing time they left and walked down the broad road which led homewards.

'Let's 'ave a little sit dahn,' said Jim, pointing to an empty bench between two trees.

'Na, it's gettin' lite; I want ter be 'ome.'

'It's such a fine night, it's a pity ter go in already;' and he drew her unresisting towards the seat. He put his arm round her waist.

'Un'and me, villin!' she said, in apt misquotation of the melodrama, but Jim only laughed, and she made no effort to disengage herself.

They sat there for a long while in silence; the beer had got to Liza's head, and the warm night air filled her with a double intoxication. She felt the arm round her waist, and the big, heavy form pressing against her side; she experienced again the curious sensation as if her heart were about to burst, and it choked her--a feeling so oppressive and painful it almost made her feel sick. Her hands began to tremble, and her breathing grew rapid, as though she were suffocating. Almost fainting, she swayed over towards the man, and a cold shiver ran through her from top to toe. Jim bent over her, and, taking her in both arms, he pressed his lips to hers in a long, passionate kiss. At last, panting for breath, she turned her head away and groaned.

Then they again sat for a long while in silence, Liza full of a strange happiness, feeling as if she could laugh aloud hysterically, but restrained by the calm and silence of the night. Close behind struck a church clock--one.

'Bless my soul!' said Liza, starting, 'there's one o'clock. I must get 'ome.'

'It's so nice out 'ere; do sty, Liza.' He pressed her closer to him. 'Yer know, Liza, I love yer--fit ter kill.'

'Na, I can't stay; come on.' She got up from the seat, and pulled him up too. 'Come on,' she said.

Without speaking they went along, and there was no one to be seen either in front or behind them. He had not got his arm round her now, and they were walking side by side, slightly separated. It was Liza who spoke first.

'You'd better go dahn the Road and by the church an' git into Vere Street the other end, an' I'll go through the passage, so thet no one shouldn't see us comin' together,' she spoke almost in a whisper.

'Arright, Liza,' he answered, 'I'll do just as you tell me.'

They came to the passage of which Liza spoke; it was a narrow way between blank walls, the backs of factories, and it led into the upper end of Vere Street. The entrance to it was guarded by two iron posts in the middle so that horses or barrows should not be taken through.

They had just got to it when a man came out into the open road. Liza quickly turned her head away.

'I wonder if 'e see us,' she said, when he had passed out of earshot. ''E's lookin' back,' she added.

'Why, 'oo is it?' asked Jim.

'It's a man aht of our street,' she answered. 'I dunno 'im, but I know where 'e lodges. D'yer think 'e sees us?'

'Na, 'e wouldn't know 'oo it was in the dark.'

'But he looked round; all the street'll know it if he see us.'

'Well, we ain't doin' no 'arm.'

She stretched out her hand to say good night.

'I'll come a wy with yer along the passage,' said Jim.

'Na, you mustn't; you go straight round.'

'But it's so dark; p'raps summat'll 'appen to yer.'

'Not it! You go on 'ome an' leave me,' she replied, and entering the passage, stood facing him with one of the iron pillars between them.

'Good night, old cock,' she said, stretching out her hand. He took it, and said:

'I wish yer wasn't goin' ter leave me, Liza.'

'Garn! I must!' She tried to get her hand away from his, but he held it firm, resting it on the top of the pillar.

'Leave go my 'and,' she said. He made no movement, but looked into her eyes steadily, so that it made her uneasy. She repented having come out with him. 'Leave go my 'and.' And she beat down on his with her closed fist.

'Liza!' he said, at last.

'Well, wot is it?' she answered, still thumping down on his hand with her fist.

'Liza,' he said a whisper, 'will yer?'

'Will I wot?' she said, looking down.

'You know, Liza. Sy, will yer?'

'Na,' she said.

He bent over her and repeated--

'Will yer?'

She did not speak, but kept beating down on his hand.

'Liza,' he said again, his voice growing hoarse and thick--'Liza, will yer?'

She still kept silence, looking away and continually bringing down her fist. He looked at her a moment, and she, ceasing to thump his hand, looked up at him with half-opened mouth. Suddenly he shook himself, and closing his fist gave her a violent, swinging blow in the belly.

'Come on.' he said.

And together they slid down into the darkness of the passage.

过了两天；是个星期五的早晨。丽莎起得很早，有宽裕的时间踱着步上工去，但她一路上没有遇到她的忠实朋友萨莉，到了厂里也没看见她。

钟声响了，姑娘们一群群都往厂里拥，唯独依然不见萨莉到来。丽莎不知这是怎么回事，怕萨莉将被关出在厂外。正在发出勤牌子的人要拉下他窗口的百叶窗的时候，萨莉赶到了，气吁吁、汗淋淋的。

“唷！天哪，我热死了！”她说，一边用围裙揩脸上的汗水。

“我当你不来了，”丽莎说。

“不，我正好赶进；我睡过头了。我昨天夜里出去了，回来很晚。’’

“是吗？”

“我和哈利去看那个戏的。哦，丽莎，那个戏简直好看极了！我一生从来没看过这样的好戏。天哪！它使你紧张得血都发冷。他们在台上把一个人绞死，哦，使我浑身都起了鸡皮疙瘩！”

接着她把这戏的情节，从头到底详详细细讲给丽莎听暴力和流血呀，开熗呀，火车呀，凶杀呀，炸弹呀，英雄呀，小丑呀——她在激动的心情下把剧情杂乱无章地讲给她听，还背诵几段对话一全背错的——指手划脚地做出各种姿势；她回忆起这一切，兴奋得满面通红。

丽莎听得不耐烦，对萨莉讲得那么噜苏觉得讨厌：她对这个戏实在不感兴趣。

“人家会觉得，好象你一生从来没有进过戏院似的，”她说。

“我从来没有看过这样好的戏，我可以告诉你。你听我的话，叫汤姆带你去看。”

“我不要去I要去的话，我也自己买票、一个人去。”

“得了！那有什么味儿？我和哈利，我们坐在一起，他揽着我的腰，我握着他的手，这才乐哪，我可以告诉你！”

“嗯，我可不要任何人在我身上抚抚摸摸；我不喜欢！”

“可是我喜欢哈利；你不知道他的那些小动作哩；我们过三个星期就要结婚了。哈利说，他说‘我要去领张结婚证书’。‘不，’我说，‘要在教堂里宣读结婚预告，这样似乎更正式；’所以这个星期天将宣读我们的结婚预告。你跟我一起去听，好不好？”

“好哇，我一起去。”

放工后，在回家的途中，萨莉一定要在戏院广告前面停下，把广告上的那个场面详细解释给丽莎听。

“啊，你的《致命的纸牌》叫人恶心，我真要恶心了！我要回家去了。’’她不等萨莉解释完，管自走了。

“我不知丽莎怎么了，”萨莉对一个她们共同的朋友说。“不知为什么，她总是不乐意。”

“哦，她是个傻子，”那个朋友说。

“是啊．我觉得她有时候真有点痴呆——我确实有这样的感觉，”萨莉回答说。

丽莎朝着家里走去，一路想着那个戏；终于她不耐烦地把头往后一仰。

“我不要看这该死的戏。我如果见到吉姆那个家伙，就对他这样讲；我一定这样讲！”

她果然看见他了；他背靠着他家的墙，在抽烟。丽莎知道他已经看到她，她经过他面前，只装没有注意到他。她觉得可恶的是，他让她走过去，而当她正以为他可能并没有看见她的时候，却听见他叫唤她的名字。

“丽莎！’’

她回过头去，吃了一惊的样子——装得很象。“我没看见你在那儿！”她说。

“你走过去的时候，为什么假装没看到我——嗯，丽莎？”

“呀，我是没有看见你。”

“胡说！你可不是跟我生气吧？”

“我生什么气？”

他想要握住她的手，但她迅速缩回了。她已经习惯于这个动作。他们继续交谈下去，可是吉姆始终不提看戏的事，丽莎很奇怪，心想他会不会忘记了。

“呃——萨莉昨天夜里去看戏的，”最后是她说。

“噢！”他说；就这么一声。

她忍受不住了。

“好，我走了！”她说。

“不，不要就走；我有话要跟你说．”他回答。

“什么话？有什么事？”她拼命想引出看戏的话题。

“我也不知道．”他微笑着说。

“再见！”她说着，急促地转身离开了他。

“哼，肯定他全忘了!”她一边走回家，一边心里想，气鼓鼓地。

第二天晚上六点光景，她忽然想到今夜是这本“新型惊险剧”的最后一场。

“我确实是喜欢那个吉姆·布莱克斯顿的，”她暗自思忖，“而他竟这样对待我！汤姆决不会象他那样。我死也不再理睬他，那个——。现在我将根本看不成这本戏了。我真想自个儿去。瞧他忘记得那么干干净净！”

她非常气愤，虽然很难说为什么气愤，因为是她自己清清楚楚拒绝了吉姆的请求的。

“他说他会在戏院外面等我的，不知他会不会在那里。我要去看看他到底在不在那里，我L定要去看看——要是他在的话，我就自己买了票进去看戏，偏要气气他。”

她穿上了她的漂亮衣裳，为了不让邻居看见，特地从几幢模范工房中间的小弄里穿出去，兜到威斯敏斯特桥大道，不多一会就到了戏院门前。

“我等你半个小时了。”

她回头看时，只见吉姆站在她背后。

“你在跟谁说话？我可不是来跟你一起去看戏的。你把我当什么来着？’’

“那你跟谁一起去？”

“我一个人去。”

“得了！别成了该死的蠢驴！”

丽莎觉得受了极大的侮辱。

“你就是这样对待我！我回家去了。你那天夜里为什么不出来？”

“你教我不要出来的嘛。”

她听了这悖谬可笑的回答，哼了一声。

“你昨天为什么只字不提看戏的事呢？”

“咦，我想如果我不谈这件事，你准会来。”

“好哇，我想你真是——畜生！”她真要哭出来。

“好吧，丽莎，别激动，我并不存心惹恼你。”

他用手臂挽着她的腰，把她带到戏院走廊门口。

她眼角里涌出两颗泪珠，沿着鼻子滚下，但是她感到宽慰和快活，任他带到什么地方去。

门口等着一长条的人。丽莎看见两个黑人在帮他们消磨等待的时间，心里高兴。黑人唱歌、跳舞、又做怪脸，大家聚精会神地看得津津有味，有如王家贵族在静听雷斯凯注演唱。在表演完毕的时候，大家热烈鼓掌，并且踊跃向他们投赠半便士的铜币。

当黑人们退到楼下后座的进口处时，报童们又叫卖起小报和号外来；这之后来了三个小姑娘，唱着爱情歌曲，又拿到一些铜币。

终于门里边响起了声音，门口排成一字长蛇阵的人们骚动起来，每个人都挤拢来，男的叫女的挨紧、拉住I一片劈里啪啦开锁去闩的声音，门都打开了，人们就象决了堤的河流一样向场子里直冲进去。

过了半个小时，幕开了。这戏确实惊险动人。丽莎完全忘记了她的伴侣，专心一志地盯着台上。她看得气也透不过来．激动得发抖，看到绞杀人的那个精采场面时，她几乎发疯了。

第一幕幕落，她舒了口气，揩揩脸上的汗。

“瞧我好热呀，”她对吉姆说．把手给他摸。

“是呀，你热了！”他拿住她的手。

“放开！”她说，要把手缩回来。

“有什么关系？”他非常大胆地回答。

“去！放开！”但是他不放，她也并不真正强烈挣扎。

第二幕开场了。她看见了那小丑，尖叫起来；她的笑声比任何人都大，因此人们都回过头来看她，说道——

“她看得可开心。”

后来，到谋杀的一场，她尽是咬指甲，额上汗流如注。她紧张得甚至力竭声嘶地对那将被杀害的人大叫起来，“当心！”这一下引起了哄堂大笑，也松弛了紧张空气，因为全场正屏气凝视着两个坏人在门口侧耳静听，蹑手蹑脚地向他走去，宛如老虎在爬向它要捕食的动物。

丽莎周身哆嗦，吓得紧挨着吉姆，他就双手把她抱住，对她说——

“别害怕，丽莎；没事。”

最后坏人们猛扑上去，一场搏斗，可怜的人被杀；接着就是广告上画的那个场面——被害者的儿子在外面敲门，里面是两个凶手和那被杀害的人。

幕落下，全场观众松了一口气，接着爆发出一阵阵的喝彩声。那戴着大礼帽的漂亮的英雄受到雷声般的鼓掌；被杀害的人．依然弄得蓬头散发、衣衫零乱的样子，受到同情的欢呼；坏蛋们呢，全场报以一片嘘嘘、呸呸的喧哗，而那两个可怜的家伙还是连连鞠躬，似乎表示深深感谢。

“我看得好看极了，”丽莎说，把身子紧紧贴拢吉姆，“你带我来看这戏，你真好——吉姆。”

他紧紧抱了她一下，她忽然想起，她正同萨莉说的一样地坐着，她同萨莉一样“够味儿”。

幕间休息的时间很短，不一会幕又升起了。

小丑脱去了衣服，把衬衣衬裤公诸于众，引起观众惯常的哄堂大笑；然后又是悲剧，最后一幕是一间黑沉沉的房间、抽签、爆炸。

当戏演完了，散场出来的时候，吉姆咂着嘴唇，说道——

“我得喝口酒；我们到那边小酒店去。”

“我也渴得要命，”丽莎说；所以他们就去了。

走进小酒店，他们觉得肚子饿了，看见刺激食欲的香肠卷，吃了一些，同时灌下了两罐啤酒。然后吉姆点起烟斗，他们离开了小酒店。

他们走到快近威斯敏斯特桥大道的时候，吉姆建议趁酒店还没打烊再去喝几杯。

“我要醉了，”丽莎说。

“没有关系．”吉姆笑着答道。“你明天早晨又不用上班，多睡一会就是。”

“好吧，那么我去；反正喝了，就索性喝吧。”

她到了酒店门口，脚步缩住了。

“我说，大爷，”她说，“这里会有我们街上的人，他们会看见我们的。”

“不，不会有人，你放心。”

“我怕进去。”

“嗳，就是他们看见我们，我们又不是在做什么坏事，而且我们可以到里边的小房间去，包管你那儿一个人也没有。”

她顺从了。他们进了酒店。

“请来两品脱苦啤酒，小姐．”吉姆对女侍者说。

“嗳，老朋友。我至多喝半品脱．”丽莎说。

“胡说．”吉姆回答。“你是有多少能喝多少的．我知道。”

他们到酒店关门的时候才离开酒店．沿着宽广的大道向回家的路上走去。

“我们在这里坐一会儿．”吉姆指着两棵树间的一张空凳子说。

“不，时间晚了；我要回家了。”

“那么好的夜晚，要紧回家去岂不可惜I"他拉她坐下．她并不推拒。他拿手臂在她的腰里揽着。

“放手，坏蛋！”她随口胡乱引用那传奇剧里的话说；可是吉姆只哈哈笑笑，她也不挣脱他的搂抱。

他们在那里坐着，沉默了好一阵子I啤酒涌上她头里，热烘烘的夜晚的空气更使她昏昏沉沉。

她觉得他的手臂揽在她腰里，高大的身躯紧贴在她身旁；她重又感受到那种奇异的激情，仿佛她的心就要爆炸，这激情使她透不过气来——一种那么痛苦、压迫的感觉几乎使她要打恶心。她的手发起抖来，呼吸越来越急迫，似乎竟要窒息了。她昏昏迷迷地倒在那男人身上，从头顶到脚尖一阵寒颤。

吉姆俯倒身子，双手抱住她，在她嘴唇上压上了一个长长的热吻。她气喘吁吁地掉转头，低声呻吟。

他们又默默无言地坐了好一阵子，丽莎只觉异样的喜悦，仿佛将歇斯底里地大笑起来。

就在背后，教堂的钟声敲起——一点！

“天哪！”丽莎一震动，说道，“一点啦！我必须回家了。”

“这儿外面多凉快，再待一会儿，丽莎。”他把她抱得更紧。“你知道，丽莎，我爱你——爱得恨不得把你杀了。”

“不，我不能再待下去；走吧。”她从凳子上站起身来，把他也拖起。“走吧，”她说。

他们一路走去，又是默默无言地；前前后后不看见一个人。他这会儿没挽住她。他们稍稍分开着并肩走去。

丽莎先开口。

“你最好沿这大道，绕着教堂，兜回维尔街，我穿小弄走，这样没有人会看见我们在一起；”她几乎耳语般地说。

“好，丽莎，”他答道，“你叫我怎样，我就怎样。”

他们来到了丽莎所说那条小弄口；这条小弄两边都是没有门窗的墙，是工厂的背面，它通向维尔街的末梢头。弄口中央设有两个铁桩，不让马匹和车辆通行。

他们刚到得那里，忽然小弄里走出一个人来，正拐弯上大路上去。丽莎连忙把头掉转。

“不知他看见我们没有．”待他走远了些，她说。“他在回头看，”她又说。

“嗯，这是谁？”吉姆问。

“是我们街上的人．”她答道。“我不认识他，可我知道他住在哪一家。你猜他看见我们吗？”

“不，他在黑暗里看不出是谁的。”

“但是他回过头来看的；要是他看见是我们，整条街上的人就将全都知道。”

“这也没什么，我们又不是在干坏事。”

她伸出手，要对他说再见。

“我陪你在小弄里走一段．”吉姆说。

“不，你不能陪我；你这就兜过去定吧。”

“可小弄里那么暗；也许会出什么事情。”

“不可能！你回家去吧，别管我．”她一面说着，一面走进小弄里，隔着一个铁桩和吉姆对面站住。

“再见，老朋友，’’她伸出手说。

他握住了她的手，说道——

“我但愿你不要离开我，丽莎。”

“好啦，我必须走了！”她想要缩回她的手，但是他把它紧紧压住在铁桩顶上。

“放开我的手，”她说。

他不动，却一味盯住了她的眼睛，弄得她心慌起来。她懊悔不该跟他出来。

“放开我的手，’’说完，她握紧拳头打他的手。

“丽莎！”末了他说。

“嗯，怎么样？”她一边说，一边不断用拳头狠狠打他的手。

“丽莎，”他轻轻地说，“你肯吗？”

“肯什么？”她说，低下了头。

“你知道的，丽莎。说，你肯吗？”

“不，”她说。

他凑到她耳边，重复说——

“你肯吗？’’

她默不作声，尽是打他的手。

“丽莎．”他还是说，声音变得嘶哑、粗重——“丽莎，你肯吗？”

她依然不响，眼睛朝着别处，拳头尽乱打。

他定睛对她看了一会，她停住了在猛打他的手，半张着嘴抬头瞧着他。突然间，他一阵震颤，握紧拳头，狠狠地在她肚子上砰的一拳。“来吧．”他说。终于他们两个一起向小弄的黑暗中悄悄走去。

引用

Chapter 8

Mrs. Kemp was in the habit of slumbering somewhat heavily on Sunday mornings, or Liza would not have been allowed to go on sleeping as she did. When she woke, she rubbed her eyes to gather her senses together and gradually she remembered having gone to the theatre on the previous evening; then suddenly everything came back to her. She stretched out her legs and gave a long sigh of delight. Her heart was full; she thought of Jim, and the delicious sensation of love came over her. Closing her eyes, she imagined his warm kisses, and she lifted up her arms as if to put them round his neck and draw him down to her; she almost felt the rough beard on her face, and the strong heavy arms round her body. She smiled to herself and took a long breath; then, slipping back the sleeves of her nightdress, she looked at her own thin arms, just two pieces of bone with not a muscle on them, but very white and showing distinctly the interlacement of blue veins: she did not notice that her hands were rough, and red and dirty with the nails broken, and bitten to the quick. She got out of bed and looked at herself in the glass over the mantelpiece: with one hand she brushed back her hair and smiled at herself; her face was very small and thin, but the complexion was nice, clear and white, with a delicate tint of red on the cheeks, and her eyes were big and dark like her hair. She felt very happy.

She did not want to dress yet, but rather to sit down and think, so she twisted up her hair into a little knot, slipped a skirt over her nightdress, and sat on a chair near the window and began looking around. The decorations of the room had been centred on the mantelpiece; the chief ornament consisted of a pear and an apple, a pineapple, a bunch of grapes, and several fat plums, all very beautifully done in wax, as was the fashion about the middle of this most glorious reign. They were appropriately coloured--the apple blushing red, the grapes an inky black, emerald green leaves were scattered here and there to lend finish, and the whole was mounted on an ebonised stand covered with black velvet, and protected from dust and dirt by a beautiful glass cover bordered with red plush. Liza's eyes rested on this with approbation, and the pineapple quite made her mouth water. At either end of the mantelpiece were pink jars with blue flowers on the front; round the top in Gothic letters of gold was inscribed: 'A Present from a Friend'--these were products of a later, but not less artistic age. The intervening spaces were taken up with little jars and cups and saucers--gold inside, with a view of a town outside, and surrounding them, 'A Present from Clacton-on-Sea,' or, alliteratively, 'A Memento of Margate.' Of these many were broken, but they had been mended with glue, and it is well known that pottery in the eyes of the connoisseur loses none of its value by a crack or two. Then there were portraits innumerable--little yellow cartes-de-visite in velvet frames, some of which were decorated with shells; they showed strange people with old-fashioned clothes, the women with bodices and sleeves fitting close to the figure, stern-featured females with hair carefully parted in the middle and plastered down on each side, firm chins and mouths, with small, pig-like eyes and wrinkled faces, and the men were uncomfortably clad in Sunday garments, very stiff and uneasy in their awkward postures, with large whiskers and shaved chins and upper lips and a general air of horny-handed toil. Then there were one or two daguerreotypes, little full-length figures framed in gold paper. There was one of Mrs. Kemp's father and one of her mother, and there were several photographs of betrothed or newly-married couples, the lady sitting down and the man standing behind her with his hand on the chair, or the man sitting and the woman with her hand on his shoulder. And from all sides of the room, standing on the mantelpiece, hanging above it, on the wall and over the bed, they stared full-face into the room, self-consciously fixed for ever in their stiff discomfort.

The walls were covered with dingy, antiquated paper, and ornamented with coloured supplements from Christmas Numbers--there was a very patriotic picture of a soldier shaking the hand of a fallen comrade and waving his arm in defiance of a band of advancing Arabs; there was a 'Cherry Ripe,' almost black with age and dirt; there were two almanacks several years old, one with a coloured portrait of the Marquess of Lorne, very handsome and elegantly dressed, the object of Mrs. Kemp's adoration since her husband's demise; the other a Jubilee portrait of the Queen, somewhat losing in dignity by a moustache which Liza in an irreverent moment had smeared on with charcoal.

The furniture consisted of a wash-hand stand and a little deal chest of drawers, which acted as sideboard to such pots and pans and crockery as could not find room in the grate; and besides the bed there was nothing but two kitchen chairs and a lamp. Liza looked at it all and felt perfectly satisfied; she put a pin into one corner of the noble Marquess to prevent him from falling, fiddled about with the ornaments a little, and then started washing herself. After putting on her clothes she ate some bread-and-butter, swallowed a dishful of cold tea, and went out into the street.

She saw some boys playing cricket and went up to them.

'Let me ply,' she said.

'Arright, Liza,' cried half a dozen of them in delight; and the captain added: 'You go an' scout over by the lamp-post.'

'Go an' scout my eye!' said Liza, indignantly. 'When I ply cricket I does the battin'.'

'Na, you're not goin' ter bat all the time. 'Oo are you gettin' at?' replied the captain, who had taken advantage of his position to put himself in first, and was still at the wicket.

'Well, then I shan't ply,' answered Liza.

'Garn, Ernie, let 'er go in!' shouted two or three members of the team.

'Well, I'm busted!' remarked the captain, as she took his bat. 'You won't sty in long, I lay,' he said, as he sent the old bowler fielding and took the ball himself. He was a young gentleman who did not suffer from excessive backwardness.

'Aht!' shouted a dozen voices as the ball went past Liza's bat and landed in the pile of coats which formed the wicket. The captain came forward to resume his innings, but Liza held the bat away from him.

'Garn!' she said; 'thet was only a trial.'

'You never said trial,' answered the captain indignantly.

'Yus, I did,' said Liza; 'I said it just as the ball was comin'--under my breath.'

'Well, I am busted!' repeated the captain.

Just then Liza saw Tom among the lookers-on, and as she felt very kindly disposed to the world in general that morning, she called out to him:

''Ulloa, Tom!' she said. 'Come an' give us a ball; this chap can't bowl.'

'Well, I got yer aht, any'ow,' said that person.

'Ah, yer wouldn't 'ave got me aht plyin' square. But a trial ball--well, one don't ever know wot a trial ball's goin' ter do.'

Tom began bowling very slowly and easily, so that Liza could swing her bat round and hit mightily; she ran well, too, and pantingly brought up her score to twenty. Then the fielders interposed.

'I sy, look 'ere, 'e's only givin' 'er lobs; 'e's not tryin' ter git 'er aht.'

'You're spoilin' our gime.'

'I don't care; I've got twenty runs--thet's more than you could do. I'll go aht now of my own accord, so there! Come on, Tom.'

Tom joined her, and as the captain at last resumed his bat and the game went on, they commenced talking, Liza leaning against the wall of a house, while Tom stood in front of her, smiling with pleasure.

'Where 'ave you been idin' yerself, Tom? I ain't seen yer for I dunno 'ow long.'

'I've been abaht as usual; an' I've seen you when you didn't see me.'

'Well, yer might 'ave come up and said good mornin' when you see me.'

'I didn't want ter force myself on, yer, Liza.'

'Garn! You are a bloomin' cuckoo. I'm blowed!'

'I thought yer didn't like me 'angin' round yer; so I kep' awy.'

'Why, yer talks as if I didn't like yer. Yer don't think I'd 'ave come aht beanfeastin' with yer if I 'adn't liked yer?'

Liza was really very dishonest, but she felt so happy this morning that she loved the whole world, and of course Tom came in with the others. She looked very kindly at him, and he was so affected that a great lump came in his throat and he could not speak.

Liza's eyes turned to Jim's house, and she saw coming out of the door a girl of about her own age; she fancied she saw in her some likeness to Jim.

'Say, Tom,' she asked, 'thet ain't Blakeston's daughter, is it?'

'Yus thet's it.'

'I'll go an' speak to 'er,' said Liza, leaving Tom and going over the road.

'You're Polly Blakeston, ain't yer?' she said.

'Thet's me!' said the girl.

'I thought you was. Your dad, 'e says ter me, "You dunno my daughter, Polly, do yer?" says 'e. "Na," says I, "I don't." "Well," says 'e, "You can't miss 'er when you see 'er." An' right enough I didn't.'

'Mother says I'm all father, an' there ain't nothin' of 'er in me. Dad says it's lucky it ain't the other wy abaht, or e'd 'ave got a divorce.'

They both laughed.

'Where are you goin' now?' asked Liza, looking at the slop-basin she was carrying.

'I was just goin' dahn into the road ter get some ice-cream for dinner. Father 'ad a bit of luck last night, 'e says, and 'e'd stand the lot of us ice-cream for dinner ter-day.'

'I'll come with yer if yer like.'

'Come on!' And, already friends, they walked arm-in-arm to the Westminster Bridge Road. Then they went along till they came to a stall where an Italian was selling the required commodity, and having had a taste apiece to see if they liked it, Polly planked down sixpence and had her basin filled with a poisonous-looking mixture of red and white ice-cream.

On the way back, looking up the street, Polly cried:

'There's father!'

Liza's heart beat rapidly and she turned red; but suddenly a sense of shame came over her, and casting down her head so that she might not see him, she said:

'I think I'll be off 'ome an' see 'ow mother's gettin' on.' And before Polly could say anything she had slipped away and entered her own house.

Mother was not getting on at all well.

'You've come in at last, you ----, you!' snarled Mrs. Kemp, as Liza entered the room.

'Wot's the matter, mother?'

'Matter! I like thet--matter indeed! Go an' matter yerself an' be mattered! Nice way ter treat an old woman like me--an' yer own mother, too!'

'Wot's up now?'

'Don't talk ter me; I don't want ter listen ter you. Leavin' me all alone, me with my rheumatics, an' the neuralgy! I've 'ad the neuralgy all the mornin', and my 'ead's been simply splittin', so thet I thought the bones 'ud come apart and all my brains go streamin' on the floor. An' when I wake up there's no one ter git my tea for me, an' I lay there witin' an' witin', an' at last I 'ad ter git up and mike it myself. And, my 'ead simply cruel! Why, I might 'ave been burnt ter death with the fire alight an' me asleep.'

'Well, I am sorry, mother; but I went aht just for a bit, an' didn't think you'd wike. An' besides, the fire wasn't alight.'

'Garn with yer! I didn't treat my mother like thet. Oh, you've been a bad daughter ter me--an' I 'ad more illness carryin' you than with all the other children put togither. You was a cross at yer birth, an' you've been a cross ever since. An' now in my old age, when I've worked myself ter the bone, yer leaves me to starve and burn to death.' Here she began to cry, and the rest of her utterances was lost in sobs.

* * * * *

The dusk had darkened into night, and Mrs. Kemp had retired to rest with the dicky-birds. Liza was thinking of many things; she wondered why she had been unwilling to meet Jim in the morning.

'I was a bally fool,' she said to herself.

It really seemed an age since the previous night, and all that had happened seemed very long ago. She had not spoken to Jim all day, and she had so much to say to him. Then, wondering whether he was about, she went to the window and looked out; but there was nobody there. She closed the window again and sat just beside it; the time went on, and she wondered whether he would come, asking herself whether he had been thinking of her as she of him; gradually her thoughts grew vague, and a kind of mist came over them. She nodded. Suddenly she roused herself with a start, fancying she had heard something; she listened again, and in a moment the sound was repeated, three or four gentle taps on the window. She opened it quickly and whispered:

'Jim.'

'Thet's me,' he answered, 'come aht.'

Closing the window, she went into the passage and opened the street door; it was hardly unlocked before Jim had pushed his way in; partly shutting it behind him, he took her in his arms and hugged her to his breast. She kissed him passionately.

'I thought yer'd come ter-night, Jim; summat in my 'eart told me so. But you 'ave been long.'

'I wouldn't come before, 'cause I thought there'd be people abaht. Kiss us!' And again he pressed his lips to hers, and Liza nearly fainted with the delight of it.

'Let's go for a walk, shall we?' he said.

'Arright!' They were speaking in whispers. 'You go into the road through the passage, an' I'll go by the street.'

'Yus, thet's right,' and kissing her once more, he slid out, and she closed the door behind him.

Then going back to get her hat, she came again into the passage, waiting behind the door till it might be safe for her to venture. She had not made up her mind to risk it, when she heard a key put in the lock, and she hardly had time to spring back to prevent herself from being hit by the opening door. It was a man, one of the upstairs lodgers.

''Ulloa!' he said, ''oo's there?'

'Mr. 'Odges! Strikes me, you did give me a turn; I was just goin' aht.' She blushed to her hair, but in the darkness he could see nothing.

'Good night,' she said, and went out.

She walked close along the sides of the houses like a thief, and the policeman as she passed him turned round and looked at her, wondering whether she was meditating some illegal deed. She breathed freely on coming into the open road, and seeing Jim skulking behind a tree, ran up to him, and in the shadows they kissed again.

肯普太太惯常在星期天的早晨昏昏沉沉地睡大觉，否则也不会让丽莎这样尽睡着。

丽莎醒来，揉揉眼睛，清一清头脑，渐渐记起了头夜到戏院看戏的事，接着一切全都闪现在眼前。

她伸了伸腿，喜悦地深深叹息一声。她心潮如涌；她想着吉姆，沉浸在爱情的迷人的快感中。她闭着眼睛，想象他的火热的吻，她举起臂膀，仿佛要揽住他的脖子，使他俯下身子挨近她。她几乎感觉到他粗硬的胡子贴在她脸上，坚实的臂膊搂抱着她的身体。

她自己笑笑，痛快地透了口气。于是她撩起睡衣的袖子，看看自己瘦削的手臂，就只两根骨头，没有一点肌肉，然而非常白嫩，一根根交叉的青色的血管看得清清楚楚。她没有注意到自己的手很粗，又红又脏，指甲有的坏了，有的被她咬到了指尖的活肉。

她爬下床来，在壁炉架上的镜子里自己照照，一只手把头发往后掠了掠，对着自己微笑。她的面庞是小小的，而且很瘦，可是她的面色可好，白嫩清秀，两颊微微泛红，一双大眼睛同她的头发一样乌黑。她感到非常快活。

她不想就换衣服，而要坐下随心想想，所以她把头发盘起一个小结子．在睡衣外面套上条裙子，在近窗口的一张椅子上坐下，朝室内四面看看。

房间的壁炉架上主要的装饰品是一只生梨、一只苹果、一只菠萝、一串葡萄和几个肥硕的李子，全都是蜡制的，做得很好看I那是这个最昌盛的王朝注中期的时兴玩意。它们颜色逼真：苹果象涨红的脸，葡萄象墨水的蓝黑色，衬托着几瓣翠绿的叶子，整个这一堆水果搁在一个覆着黑丝绒的乌木座子上，上面罩着红色长毛绒镶边的漂亮的玻璃罩子，不让沾上灰尘。丽莎盯着这看，十分欣赏，菠萝使她看得淌口水。

壁炉架的两旁是两只桃红色的大花瓶，几朵蓝色的花朵朝着外面I近瓶口处描着一圈金色的美术字：“一片情谊”。这两个花瓶倒有古董的艺术味儿。中间的位置上放着些杯盘和小花瓶——里面是金色的，外面是画的城市风景，边上一圈写着“克拉克顿注精制礼品”，有的还藏个韵，写着“马盖特注海滨纪念品”。这些东西，有的已经破损，但是用胶水粘补好的，不过大家知道，在鉴赏家眼里，陶器上有一、两道裂痕是丝毫无损其价值的。

此外就是数不清的肖像——一张张明信片那么大的黄色的小照片，镶着丝绒框子，有的还用贝壳作装饰,照片上有穿着老式服装的怪样的男人们，有紧身围腰和袖子裹紧在身上的女人们。那些女人都面孔铁板，头发在正中央分开，贴牢在两边，下颔和嘴巴都显得很坚定，眼睛小得象猪眼睛，脸上皱纹密布。男人们穿着怪不舒服的节日穿的新衣裳，做着僵硬和尴尬的姿势，两鬓留着一大蓬络腮胡子，面颊和上嘴唇剃得光光的，他们给人以饱经风霜的印象。

还有一、两张银版照相，是小小的全身像，金纸镶边。一张是肯普太太父亲的像，一张是肯普太太母亲的像。再就是几张订婚照和结婚照，女的坐着，男的站在她后面，手搁在椅背上，或者是男的坐着，女的手搭在他肩上。

这些照相，有的竖在壁炉架上，有的挂在炉架顶上，有的挂在墙上，有的挂在床头；照相上的人们永远固定在他们僵硬而不舒服的状态，从各个角度面一直注视着这间房间。

墙上糊着灰暗陈旧的墙纸，上面还点缀些圣诞特刊上剪下来的图画。有一张是很富有爱国精神的，一个士兵一面跟一个倒下的伙伴握手诀别，一面怒对一伙冲来的阿拉伯人挥着臂膊；一张是《樱桃园熟图》，日久尘染，几乎已经变成黑黑的了；还有两份几年前的旧年历，一份上面是洛恩侯爵注的彩色画像，极其漂亮而华贵，是肯普太太丈夫故后的爱之所钟；另一份上面是维多利亚女王在位六十周年庆典时的画像，可惜由于丽莎一时无礼，在女王脸上用木炭画了一簇小胡子，多少有损尊严。

室内的家具有一只脸盆架，一张松板五斗橱，这是兼当餐具柜的，凡是壁炉前面放不下的瓶瓶罐罐都往这上面放。此外，除了那张床，就剩两只烧火椅子和一盏灯。

丽莎瞧着这一切，十分满意。

她在高贵的侯爵像的一个角上钉上一根别针，不让它掉下来，又随手把那些小摆设弄弄整齐，然后她自己开始梳头洗脸。

她穿好衣服，吃了些黄油面包，一口吞了一碗冷茶，出门到街上去了。

她看见几个男孩子在打板球，就走到他们跟前。

“我来打，”她说。

“好，丽莎，”六七个孩子开心地叫道。队长接着说，“你到灯杆那边去守外场。”

“守你的魂！”丽莎气呼呼地说。“我打板球，总是当击球手的。”

“不，你不能总是当击球手。你当了我当什么？”队长回答说。他已经利用自己的身份，把自己先排进去，一直在场内。

“好，那我就不打，”丽莎说。

“得了，欧尼，让她进场！”队里两、三个队员嚷道。

“哼，该死！”队长说，把他的球棒给了丽莎。“我可以打赌，你场内待不长，”说着，他叫原来的投球手去守外场，他自己拿起了球。他是少年绅士，不肯过分退让的。

“出场！”当球飞过丽莎的球棒，打进了当作球门的一堆衣服里时，六、七个声音同时叫喊。队长跑上前来，要重当击球手，但是丽莎不把球棒给他。

“去！”她说；“这只是练球，不能算。”

“你没说过练球，”他恼火地回答。

“说过，我说过，”丽莎说；“我说的时候，正好球来r 说得轻了些。”

“哼，该死！”队长又是这么说。

就在那个时候，丽莎在旁边观看的人丛中看到了汤姆。那天早晨，她正对世界上的一切都感到亲切，所以就朝他叫喊起来一一

“喂，汤姆！”她说。“你来投球；那个家伙不行。”

“不，好歹我把你打出场了，”那个家伙说。

“呀，要是正式比赛，你休想把我打出场。而这是一次练球——练球的球可谁也说不准。”

汤姆开始非常缓慢而且平稳地投球，因此丽莎能挥舞球棒狠狠地击球；而且她连续得分，气喘吁吁地打到了二十分。这时候外场员们提出意见了——

“喂，喂，他尽给她投下手球，根本不想把她打出场。”

“你在破坏我们的比赛。”

“我不管I反正我得了二十分——这就比你们谁都强。现在我自动出场，就这样！来，汤姆。”

汤姆到她身边。队长重新拿起他的球棒。比赛继续进行。丽莎和汤姆开始聊起天来，丽莎靠在一幢房子的墙上，汤姆站在她面前欢乐地微笑着。

“你这一阵子躲到哪儿去了，汤姆？我不知多久没看见你了。”

“我还是象平时一样常在街上逛逛；你不看见我，我倒总看见你。”

“你看见我，也该过来招呼一声。”

“我不愿硬叫自己缠着你，丽莎。”

“去你的：你真是个莫名其妙的怪人！”

“我想你不喜欢我缠着你，所以我避开些。”

“啊，你这样说，好象我不喜欢你似的。要是我不喜欢你，我会跟你一起出去野餐狂欢吗？”

丽莎实在是极不老实，不过今天早晨她爱整个世界，当然汤姆也在其中。

她非常亲切地瞧着他，他感动得只觉得有一大块什么塞住了他的喉咙，说不出话来。

丽莎的目光转向吉姆住的房子，看见门口走出一个和她差不多年龄的姑娘；她觉得她长得有点象吉姆。

“哎，汤姆，”她问，“那个是不是布莱克斯顿的女儿？”

“是的，正是。”

“我去跟她说几句话，”丽莎说着，就丢下汤姆，跑了过去。

“你是波莉·布莱克斯顿，是不是？’’她说。

“我是！”那姑娘说。

“我一看就知道你是的。你爸爸，他对我说，“你不认识我女儿波莉吗？’他说。‘不，’我说，‘我不认识。，

“‘哎，’他说，‘你一看见她，就看出来了。’真的，我一看就看出来了。”

“我妈说我完全象爸爸，一点不象她。我爸说幸亏没有倒个头，否则他要离婚了。”

她们俩都笑了。

“你这会上哪儿去？”丽莎问，看她手里捧着那只倒茶脚的盘子。

“我就到大街上去买点冰淇淋，吃饭时候吃。我爸昨夜交好运，他说的，所以今天吃饭时候请我们大家吃冰淇淋。”

“我同你一起去，好不好？”

“好，走！”

她们一下就成了朋友，手挽手地向威斯敏斯特桥大道走去。她们一路走到一家意大利人开的卖这东西的铺子，她们先各人尝了尝味道之后，波莉拿出六个便士，让她的那个盘子给装厂满满的一盘红色和白色混在一起、看上去象是有毒的冰淇淋。

在回家的路上，波莉朝前一看，叫道——

“我爸来了！”

丽莎的心怦怦地跳起来，激动得脸也红了。但是突然感到一阵羞耻，她沉倒了头，尽量不要看见他。她说——

“我要回家去看看我妈怎么样。”波莉还没来得及答话，她已经一溜烟跑进了自己屋里。

她妈正觉得不舒服。

“你到底来啦，你这——，你！’’肯普太太看见丽莎进来，大吼大叫。

“怎么样，妈？”

“怎么样！我这样子——你说怎么样！随你怎么样，你要怎么样就怎么样！好哇，你这样对待我这样个老太婆一一还是你自己的母亲呢！”

“出了什么事？’’

“别跟我说话；我不要听你说。你把我一个人丢在家里，又是我的风湿，又是神经痛！我今天一个早晨一直神经痛，头简直要裂开来，我想头颅骨会一裂两爿，脑浆会流了一地。我醒来的时候，没有人给我弄杯茶，我躺在床上尽是等着、等着，到头来还得自己爬起来弄。而我的头简直痛得要我的命！还有，炉子里点着火，我睡着，活活烧死也不知道。”

“对不起，妈，不过我只出去了一刻工夫，想不到你会醒的。

而且炉子没生火。”

“去你的！我从来没有这样对待我的妈。啊，你真是个没良心的女儿——我肚子里有你的时候最难过，所有其他孩子加起来也没有使我那么难过。你生下来的时候，我苦透，你生下来以后．我一直为你吃尽苦头，现在我老了，一生做得筋疲力尽了，你却丢下我不管，让我去饿死、烧死。”说到这里，她放声大哭，其余的话都淹没在抽噎之中。

黄昏进入夜晚，肯普太太跟那些小鸟一样静下来休息了。

丽莎头脑里想着许多事情，她想为什么今天早晨她不愿意和吉姆见面。

“我是个十足的傻瓜，”她自忖。

昨天的夜晚竞象是不知多么久远，昨夜发生的事情确似发生在不知多久之前。

她整天没跟吉姆说过一句话，她有满腔的话要跟他说。

她不知他会不会在街上，所以她来到窗前，往外望着，但是外面什么人也没有。她重又把窗关了，就在窗边坐下，盼着他来，心里揣度着，他是不是也象她想着他那样地在想她呢。她头脑渐渐模糊起来。她瞌睡了。

她蓦地惊醒，好象听见什么声音。她再仔细听，一会儿这声音又来了，在窗上轻轻的、得得的三、四声。她连忙开窗，低声地叫道一

“吉姆。”

“是我，”他回答；“出来。’’

她把窗关上，跑到走廊里，去开沿街的门。锁刚开，占姆已经推门而入。他把门半掩着，把她一把抱住，紧紧贴在怀里。他热烈地吻她。

“我知道你今夜会来的，我心里有什么东西告诉我的。可你来得这么晚。”

“我故意不早来，因为我想街上有人。吻我！”他再次把嘴唇贴在她嘴唇上，丽莎乐陶陶的几乎晕过去。

“我们去散一会步，好不好？”他说。

“好！”他们低声耳语。“你穿小弄上大道，我打这街上走。”

“好，那样好．”他又吻了她一下，溜出门去，她把门关好。

然后她为了去拿顶帽子，回到走廊里，先在门背后等了一会儿，不要让人发觉了她的冒险行动。正在犹豫要不要回进去拿帽子的时候，她听见门锁上钥匙声音，想连忙缩回身子，不让有人开进门来撞到她，可是已经来不及。开门的是个男人，他是住在楼上的邻居。

“谁？”他说，“谁在这儿？”

“霍吉斯先生！Ⅱ育，你着实吓我一跳；我正要出去。”她脸涨得通红，幸亏他在黑暗里根本看不见。

“再见，”她说完，就出去了。

她紧贴着一幢幢房子的墙脚，象个贼似地走去。警察看见她走过，回过头来瞧着她，怀疑她是不是在想干什么违法的事情。

她一进入大道，呼吸舒畅了，看见吉姆在一棵树下躲着，直奔上前去，他们在荫影底下又是接吻。

引用

Chapter 9

Thus began a time of love and joy. As soon as her work was over and she had finished tea, Liza would slip out and at some appointed spot meet Jim. Usually it would be at the church, where the Westminster Bridge Road bends down to get to the river, and they would go off, arm-in-arm, till they came to some place where they could sit down and rest. Sometimes they would walk along the Albert Embankment to Battersea Park, and here sit on the benches, watching the children play. The female cyclist had almost abandoned Battersea for the parks on the other side of the river, but often enough one went by, and Liza, with the old-fashioned prejudice of her class, would look after the rider and make some remark about her, not seldom more forcible than ladylike. Both Jim and she liked children, and, tiny, ragged urchins would gather round to have rides on the man's knees or mock fights with Liza.

They thought themselves far away from anyone in Vere Street, but twice, as they were walking along, they were met by people they knew. Once it was two workmen coming home from a job at Vauxhall: Liza did not see them till they were quite near; she immediately dropped Jim's arm, and they both cast their eyes to the ground as the men passed, like ostriches, expecting that if they did not look they would not be seen.

'D'you see 'em, Jim?' asked Liza, in a whisper, when they had gone by. 'I wonder if they see us.' Almost instinctively she turned round, and at the same moment one of the men turned too; then there was no doubt about it.

'Thet did give me a turn,' she said.

'So it did me,' answered Jim; 'I simply went 'ot all over.'

'We was bally fools,' said Liza; 'we oughter 'ave spoken to 'em! D'you think they'll let aht?'

They heard nothing of it, when Jim afterwards met one of the men in a public-house he did not mention a meeting, and they thought that perhaps they had not been recognized. But the second time was worse.

It was on the Albert Embankment again. They were met by a party of four, all of whom lived in the street. Liza's heart sank within her, for there was no chance of escape; she thought of turning quickly and walking in the opposite direction, but there was not time, for the men had already seen them. She whispered to Jim:

'Back us up,' and as they met she said to one of the men:

''Ulloa there! Where are you off to?'

The men stopped, and one of them asked the question back.

'Where are you off to?'

'Me? Oh, I've just been to the 'orspital. One of the gals at our place is queer, an' so I says ter myself, "I'll go an' see 'er."' She faltered a little as she began, but quickly gathered herself together, lying fluently and without hesitation.

'An' when I come aht,' she went on, ''oo should I see just passin' the 'orspital but this 'ere cove, an' 'e says to me, "Wot cheer," says 'e, "I'm goin' ter Vaux'all, come an' walk a bit of the wy with us." "Arright," says I, "I don't mind if I do."'

One man winked, and another said: 'Go it, Liza!'

She fired up with the dignity of outraged innocence.

'Wot d'yer mean by thet?' she said; 'd'yer think I'm kiddin'?'

'Kiddin'? No! You've only just come up from the country, ain't yer?'

'Think I'm kidding? What d'yer think I want ter kid for? Liars never believe anyone, thet's fact.'

'Na then, Liza, don't be saucy.'

'Saucy! I'll smack yer in the eye if yer sy much ter me. Come on,' she said to Jim, who had been standing sheepishly by; and they walked away.

The men shouted: 'Now we shan't be long!' and went off laughing.

After that they decided to go where there was no chance at all of their being seen. They did not meet till they got over Westminster Bridge, and thence they made their way into the park; they would lie down on the grass in one another's arms, and thus spend the long summer evenings. After the heat of the day there would be a gentle breeze in the park, and they would take in long breaths of the air; it seemed far away from London, it was so quiet and cool; and Liza, as she lay by Jim's side, felt her love for him overflowing to the rest of the world and enveloping mankind itself in a kind of grateful happiness. If it could only have lasted! They would stay and see the stars shine out dimly, one by one, from the blue sky, till it grew late and the blue darkened into black, and the stars glittered in thousands all above them. But as the nights grew cooler, they found it cold on the grass, and the time they had there seemed too short for the long journey they had to make; so, crossing the bridge as before, they strolled along the Embankment till they came to a vacant bench, and there they would sit, with Liza nestling close up to her lover and his great arms around her. The rain of September made no difference to them; they went as usual to their seat beneath the trees, and Jim would take Liza on his knee, and, opening his coat, shelter her with it, while she, with her arms round his neck, pressed very close to him, and occasionally gave a little laugh of pleasure and delight. They hardly spoke at all through these evenings, for what had they to say to one another? Often without exchanging a word they would sit for an hour with their faces touching, the one feeling on his cheek the hot breath from the other's mouth; while at the end of the time the only motion was an upraising of Liza's lips, a bending down of Jim's, so that they might meet and kiss. Sometimes Liza fell into a light doze, and Jim would sit very still for fear of waking her, and when she roused herself she would smile, while he bent down again and kissed her. They were very happy. But the hours passed by so quickly, that Big Ben striking twelve came upon them as a surprise, and unwillingly they got up and made their way homewards; their partings were never ending--each evening Jim refused to let her go from his arms, and tears stood in his eyes at the thought of the separation.

'I'd give somethin',' he would say, 'if we could be togither always.'

'Never mind, old chap!' Liza would answer, herself half crying, 'it can't be 'elped, so we must jolly well lump it.'

But notwithstanding all their precautions people in Vere Street appeared to know. First of all Liza noticed that the women did not seem quite so cordial as before, and she often fancied they were talking of her; when she passed by they appeared to look at her, then say something or other, and perhaps burst out laughing; but when she approached they would immediately stop speaking, and keep silence in a rather awkward, constrained manner. For a long time she was unwilling to believe that there was any change in them, and Jim who had observed nothing, persuaded her that it was all fancy. But gradually it became clearer, and Jim had to agree with her that somehow or other people had found out. Once when Liza had been talking to Polly, Jim's daughter, Mrs. Blakeston had called her, and when the girl had come to her mother Liza saw that she spoke angrily, and they both looked across at her. When Liza caught Mrs. Blakeston's eye she saw in her face a surly scowl, which almost frightened her; she wanted to brave it out, and stepped forward a little to go and speak with the woman, but Mrs. Blakeston, standing still, looked so angrily at her that she was afraid to. When she told Jim his face grew dark, and he said: 'Blast the woman! I'll give 'er wot for if she says anythin' ter you.'

'Don't strike 'er, wotever 'appens, will yer, Jim?' said Liza.

'She'd better tike care then!' he answered, and he told her that lately his wife had been sulking, and not speaking to him. The previous night, on coming home after the day's work and bidding her 'Good evenin',' she had turned her back on him without answering.

'Can't you answer when you're spoke to?' he had said.

'Good evenin',' she had replied sulkily, with her back still turned.

After that Liza noticed that Polly avoided her.

'Wot's up, Polly?' she said to her one day. 'You never speaks now; 'ave you 'ad yer tongue cut aht?'

'Me? I ain't got nothin' ter speak abaht, thet I knows of,' answered Polly, abruptly walking off. Liza grew very red and quickly looked to see if anyone had noticed the incident. A couple of youths, sitting on the pavement, had seen it, and she saw them nudge one another and wink.

Then the fellows about the street began to chaff her.

'You look pale,' said one of a group to her one day.

'You're overworkin' yerself, you are,' said another.

'Married life don't agree with Liza, thet's wot it is,' added a third.

''Oo d'yer think yer gettin' at? I ain't married, an' never like ter be,' she answered.

'Liza 'as all the pleasures of a 'usband an' none of the trouble.'

'Bli'me if I know wot yer mean!' said Liza.

'Na, of course not; you don't know nothin', do yer?'

'Innocent as a bibe. Our Father which art in 'eaven!'

''Aven't been in London long, 'ave yer?'

They spoke in chorus, and Liza stood in front of them, bewildered, not knowing what to answer.

'Don't you mike no mistake abaht it, Liza knows a thing or two.'

'O me darlin', I love yer fit to kill, but tike care your missus ain't round the corner.' This was particularly bold, and they all laughed.

Liza felt very uncomfortable, and fiddled about with her apron, wondering how she should get away.

'Tike care yer don't git into trouble, thet's all,' said one of the men, with burlesque gravity.

'Yer might give us a chanst, Liza, you come aht with me one evenin'. You oughter give us all a turn, just ter show there's no ill-feelin'.'

'Bli'me if I know wot yer all talkin' abaht. You're all barmy on the crumpet,' said Liza indignantly, and, turning her back on them, made for home.

Among other things that had happened was Sally's marriage. One Saturday a little procession had started from Vere Street, consisting of Sally, in a state of giggling excitement, her fringe magnificent after a whole week of curling-papers, clad in a perfectly new velveteen dress of the colour known as electric blue; and Harry, rather nervous and ill at ease in the unaccustomed restraint of a collar; these two walked arm-in-arm, and were followed by Sally's mother and uncle, also arm-in-arm, and the procession was brought up by Harry's brother and a friend. They started with a flourish of trumpets and an old boot, and walked down the middle of Vere Street, accompanied by the neighbours' good wishes; but as they got into the Westminster Bridge Road and nearer to the church, the happy couple grew silent, and Harry began to perspire freely, so that his collar gave him perfect torture. There was a public-house just opposite the church, and it was suggested that they should have a drink before going in. As it was a solemn occasion they went into the private bar, and there Sally's uncle, who was a man of means, ordered six pots of beer.

'Feel a bit nervous, 'Arry?' asked his friend.

'Na,' said Harry, as if he had been used to getting married every day of his life; 'bit warm, thet's all.'

'Your very good 'ealth, Sally,' said her mother, lifting her mug; 'this is the last time as I shall ever address you as miss.'

'An' may she be as good a wife as you was,' added Sally's uncle.

'Well, I don't think my old man ever 'ad no complaint ter mike abaht me. I did my duty by 'im, although it's me as says it,' answered the good lady.

'Well, mates,' said Harry's brother, 'I reckon it's abaht time to go in. So 'ere's to the 'ealth of Mr. 'Enry Atkins an' 'is future missus.'

'An' God bless 'em!' said Sally's mother.

Then they went into the church, and as they solemnly walked up the aisle a pale-faced young curate came out of the vestry and down to the bottom of the chancel. The beer had had a calming effect on their troubled minds, and both Harry and Sally began to think it rather a good joke. They smiled on each other, and at those parts of the service which they thought suggestive violently nudged one another in the ribs. When the ring had to be produced, Harry fumbled about in different pockets, and his brother whispered:

'Swop me bob, 'e's gone and lorst it!'

However, all went right, and Sally having carefully pocketed the certificate, they went out and had another drink to celebrate the happy event.

In the evening Liza and several friends came into the couple's room, which they had taken in the same house as Sally had lived in before, and drank the health of the bride and bridegroom till they thought fit to retire.

一个爱情和欢乐的时期这样开始了。

丽莎一下班，吃好点心，就往外溜，到什么约定的地方去碰头吉姆。通常是在教堂附近，威斯敏斯特桥大道在那里弯向泰晤士河。他们常携手闲荡，直到有什么地方可以坐下休息。

有时候，她沿着亚尔培堤走到巴特西公园注，在那里凳子上坐下，看孩子们玩耍。骑自行车的女性注已经不大到巴特西来，而到对岸的那些公园里去了，但是还不时有一辆经过，丽莎带着老派的偏见，常看着骑车的过去，背后议论，说话常粗野得不象个上等女人。

吉姆和丽莎俩都喜欢孩子，那些很小的破衣烂衫的小鬼常来绕着他们，要在吉姆的膝盖上骑马，或者跟丽莎假打架。

他们觉得自己是跟维尔街的人们离得远远的了，可是有两次，他们正在路上走，却被他们认识的人碰到了。

一次是两个工人正从沃克斯霍尔注完工回家，到他们走得很近的时候，丽莎才看见他们；她急忙把吉姆的臂膀甩掉．两个人在对方走过身边的时候都把眼睛朝着地上，象鸵鸟一样，以为只要你不看，就不会被人看见。

“你看见他们吗，吉姆？”他们走过以后，丽莎轻轻问。“恐怕他们没看见我们。”

她几乎本能地回过头去，正好那两个男人中的一个也回过头来；那就没有疑问了。

“真吓了我一跳，”她说。

“我也是，”吉姆回答；“我浑身一阵火热。”

“我们真是傻瓜，”丽莎说；“我们该招呼他们！你看他们会传出去吗？”

他们一点也没有听到什么。后来吉姆在小酒店遇到那两个人中的一个，他也没提起碰到过他。他们想，大概他们没有被认出来。

然而第二次糟了。

这回又是在亚尔培堤上。他们碰上了一伙四个人，都是住在一条街上的。丽莎的心往下沉了，因为逃避已经不可能。她想连忙回头跑，可是那几个人早已看到他们了。

她小声对吉姆说——

“壮起胆来。”所以他们走到面前的时候，她对其中的一个说，“喂！你们上哪儿去？”

这几个人停了下来，其中一个反过来问——

“你们上哪儿去？”

“我吗？哦，我刚到医院去。厂里有个姑娘不舒服，所以我想，我该去看看她。”

她开始说话的时候，有点结结巴巴，可很快就镇静下来，谎话说得挺利落，没有丝毫吞吞吐吐的。

“我医院里出来，”她继续说，“准知道正好这家伙经过医院，他对我说‘你好！’他说，‘我到沃克斯霍尔去，我们一起走一段，好吗？’‘好，’我说，‘一起走也好嘛。’”

一个人做了个眼色，另一个说，“得了吧，丽莎！”

她做出清白受污辱的神气而火冒起来。

“你这是什么意思？”她说；“你以为我在骗人？”

“骗人？不！你是刚从乡下来的老实人，是不是？”

“你以为我骗人？你说我为什么要骗人？自己说谎的人从来不相信别人，那倒是千真万确的。”

“好吧，丽莎，别那么泼辣。”

“泼辣！你再说，我打肿你的眼睛。我们走．”她对局促不安地站在旁边的吉姆说；他们走了。

这些人叫嚷着，“我们不用等多久，就有好戏看。”他们嘻嘻哈哈地也走了。

从那一回以后，他们决定拣绝对没有人看见的地方去。他们一定要过了威斯敏斯特桥才碰头，然后才同到巴特西公园。他们总是卧在草地上，相互偎依着，这样度过了一个个漫长的夏夜。

白天的闷热过去之后，公园里微风习习，他们痛快地呼吸着凉爽的空气。这儿似乎远离了伦敦，又清静，又凉快。丽莎躺在吉姆身旁，只觉得她在一种醉人的欢乐之中，她对他的爱情泛溢到整个世界，把整个人类都沉浸在里面。但愿好景常在！

他们常尽是待着，看一颗颗星星在蔚蓝的空中熹微地闪现出来，直到深夜，蔚蓝变成漆黑，满天千万颗星照耀在他们头顶。

但是随着夜间逐渐转凉，他们觉得躺在草地上冷了，同时又觉得走了那么长的路来到这里，逗留的时间也似乎太短。所以他们同原先一样，过了桥沿着亚尔培堤漫步，看见有空凳子，就在那里坐下。丽莎蜷缩在她情人的怀里，他的粗大的臂膀抱着她。

九月的雨并不影响他们；他们跟平常一样，来到他们树下的位子上，吉姆会把丽莎抱在膝盖上，张开自己的外套，给她遮雨，而她呢，两臂挽住他的脖子，紧挨着他，偶尔格格地发出一声欢乐和愉快的笑声。

这些漫长的夜晚，他们竟不大说话；事实上，他们有什么可交谈的呢？他们常默默无言地两人贴着脸，坐上一个小时，彼此的面颊上都感觉到对方嘴里热烘烘的呼吸，而到临了，唯一的动作就是丽莎的嘴唇往上一抬，吉姆的嘴唇凑上去，两人的嘴唇就这样合在一起，接吻。

有时候丽莎微微睡着了，吉姆总一动不动地坐在那儿，只怕惊醒了她。她自己醒来的时候，常嫣然一笑，他又俯下身子去吻她。他们真是快乐。

可是时间过得那么快，不知不觉大鹏钟敲起了十二点。他们只好勉强站起身来，回家走了。

他们的分手是没完没了的——每天晚上吉姆死抱住她，不肯放手，他想到分离就热泪盈眶。

“只要我们能永远在一起，”他说，“要我怎么样我都情愿。”

“别烦恼，老朋友！”丽莎自己含着眼泪哭出来，回答说，“这也没有办法．所以我们只能好好忍受。”

但是尽管他们谨慎小心，维尔街的人们还是都知道了。

首先，丽莎觉察到那些女人似乎不象以前那样对她亲热了，而且她常常觉得她们在谈论她。她经过的时候，她们好象瞧着她，然后讲些什么，或者还放声大笑，而她走近她们的时候，她们立刻停止说话，局促不安地缄默了。

她有很长一段时期，一直不愿相信她们对她的态度变了。吉姆是什么也没有觉察到，还向她劝说，说那全都是她的想象。可是后来越来越明显，吉姆也不得不同意丽莎的想法，觉得人们确实已经不知怎么发现了他们的秘密。

有一回，丽莎在跟吉姆的女儿波莉谈话，布莱克斯顿太太把她叫了去。波莉到了她母亲跟前，丽莎看见那女人怒冲冲地说了些什么，接着母女俩都远远瞧着她。丽莎看见布莱克斯顿太太目光对着她，脸上一副阴冷的怒容几乎使她惊骇。她硬着头皮走前几步，去招呼那女人，可是布莱克斯顿太太动也不动地站着，恶狠狠地瞧着她，吓得她不敢开口。

她告诉了吉姆，他气得脸色发青，说道，“那个女人该死！要是她对你说了什么，我就揍她。”

“无论怎么样都不要打她，吉姆，好吗？”丽莎说。

“那她就得识相！”他回答。

他告诉她，近来他老婆在发脾气，不跟他说话。上一天夜里，他一天工作完毕回家，向她道“晚安’’，她扭转了头，睬也不睬他。

“我跟你说话，你不能回一声吗？”当时他说。

“晚安，”她回答了，死样怪气地，依旧不回头。

从那一回之后，丽莎觉得波莉总是回避她。

“怎么啦，波莉？”有一天她对她说。“你现在一句话也不说了；你把舌头给人割掉了吗？”

“我？我没有什么好说的，我知道，”波莉回答，一面转身就走。

丽莎面孔涨得通红，急忙看看周围有没有人注意到这情况。有两个小伙子坐在人行道上，看到了。她看见他们彼此用臂肘轻轻碰碰，眨眨眼睛。

后来，这条小街上的人们开始跟她开起玩笑来。

“你脸色苍白”，有一天，一群人中有一个对她说。

“你干得太卖力了，准是的，”另一个说。

“问题是结婚生活对丽莎不合适，’’第三个加上一句。

“你在跟谁说话？我没有结婚，我从来不要结婚，”她回答。

“丽莎有丈夫可能给她的一切欢乐，而没有丈夫可能给她的任何麻烦。”

“我不懂你在说些什么！”丽莎说。

“不，你当然不懂，你是一点也不懂的，对吗？”

“象婴儿一样天真。我们在天上的父啊！注”

“在伦敦还待得不久吧？”

他们一吹一唱的，丽莎站在他们面前，茫然无从接嘴。

“你别弄错了，丽莎是懂得点儿的。”

“啊，我亲爱的，我爱你，恨不得把你杀了，可要当心不要你的老婆就在转角处。”这个话说得特别大胆，因此大伙都哈哈大笑。

丽莎狼狈不堪，尽摸弄着她的围裙，不知该怎么脱身。

“当心别招祸，那倒是最要紧的，”一个男人用一本正经的口气开玩笑。

“你也给我们个机会，丽莎；几时晚上你跟我也一起出去一次。你应该让我们每个人都挨到一次，表示你对我们一视同仁。”

“你们都在说些什么，我完全莫名其妙。你们都昏了头。”丽莎愤慨地说完，就转身朝家里走。

另外发生的事情中，还有萨莉的结婚。

有个星期六，一个小小的行列从维尔街出发。行列中，萨莉兴奋得尽是傻笑，前刘海用卷发纸卷了一个星期，显得异常漂亮；她穿着一身簇新的棉绒衣服，颜色是所谓电光蓝的。还有哈利，神经有点紧张，颈项里裹着不习惯的硬领，很不自在。他们俩携手并行，后面跟着萨莉的母亲和舅舅，也是手挽着手。行列由哈利的哥哥和一个朋友领头。

他们在一阵喇叭声中扔了一只旧皮靴注而出发，在维尔街街心上行进，一路受到邻居们的祝贺。可是他们进入威斯敏斯特桥大道，渐渐在走近教堂的时候，这对幸福的新人不作声了，哈利开始汗流如注，因而他的硬领真使他受罪。

就在教堂对面有家小酒店，于是有人建议在进教堂之前先喝上一杯。因为这是个严肃的时刻，所以他们进入里边的小房间，萨莉的舅舅是有钱人，他叫了六罐啤酒。

“觉得有点紧张吧，哈利？”他的朋友问。

“不，”哈利说，仿佛他已经习惯于一生天天做新郎似的；“就是热一点。”

“祝你身体健康，萨莉，”她母亲举杯说；“这回是我最后一次称你姑娘了。”

“愿她象你一样做个好妻子，”萨莉的舅舅说。

“嗯，我想我的老头儿对我从来没有一句抱怨的话。我尽到了我对他的责任，虽然这是我自己说的。”那位善良的老太太说。

“好吧，朋友们，”哈利的哥哥说，“我看时间差不多．要进教堂了。所以我这儿向亨利·阿特金斯注和他未来的夫人敬一杯。祝他们身体健康。”

“还愿上帝保佑他们！”萨莉的母亲说。

然后他们进入了教堂。

在他们严肃地在通道上向前走去的时候，一个脸色苍白的年轻副牧师从法衣室里出来，走到圣坛脚下。

啤酒对他们纷乱的心情有镇定作用，这会儿哈利和萨莉俩都觉得这玩意实在是大笑话。他们相视微笑，碰到礼拜式中有些他们觉得有暗示性处，彼此用臂肘猛触对方的肋骨。到要拿出戒指的时候，哈利在一只只口袋里乱摸。他哥哥在旁轻声地说——

“该死，他准丢掉了！”

然而一切还是顺利进行。萨莉小心翼翼地放好了结婚证书之后，他们走出教堂，又去喝一杯酒，庆祝这大喜事。

晚上，丽莎和几个朋友来到这对新人屋里。他们的新房就借在萨莉原来住的同一幢房子里。他们喝酒祝贺新郎新娘身体健康，直闹到他们认为该是告辞了的时候。

引用

Chapter 10

It was November. The fine weather had quite gone now, and with it much of the sweet pleasure of Jim and Liza's love. When they came out at night on the Embankment they found it cold and dreary; sometimes a light fog covered the river-banks, and made the lamps glow out dim and large; a light rain would be falling, which sent a chill into their very souls; foot passengers came along at rare intervals, holding up umbrellas, and staring straight in front of them as they hurried along in the damp and cold; a cab would pass rapidly by, splashing up the mud on each side. The benches were deserted, except, perhaps, for some poor homeless wretch who could afford no shelter, and, huddled up in a corner, with his head buried in his breast, was sleeping heavily, like a dead man. The wet mud made Liza's skirts cling about her feet, and the damp would come in and chill her legs and creep up her body, till she shivered, and for warmth pressed herself close against Jim. Sometimes they would go into the third-class waiting-rooms at Waterloo or Charing Cross and sit there, but it was not like the park or the Embankment on summer nights; they had warmth, but the heat made their wet clothes steam and smell, and the gas flared in their eyes, and they hated the people perpetually coming in and out, opening the doors and letting in a blast of cold air; they hated the noise of the guards and porters shouting out the departure of the trains, the shrill whistling of the steam-engine, the hurry and bustle and confusion. About eleven o'clock, when the trains grew less frequent, they got some quietness; but then their minds were troubled, and they felt heavy, sad and miserable.

One evening they had been sitting at Waterloo Station; it was foggy outside--a thick, yellow November fog, which filled the waiting-room, entering the lungs, and making the mouth taste nasty and the eyes smart. It was about half-past eleven, and the station was unusually quiet; a few passengers, in wraps and overcoats, were walking to and fro, waiting for the last train, and one or two porters were standing about yawning. Liza and Jim had remained for an hour in perfect silence, filled with a gloomy unhappiness, as of a great weight on their brains. Liza was sitting forward, with her elbows on her knees, resting her face on her hands.

'I wish I was straight,' she said at last, not looking up.

'Well, why won't yer come along of me altogether, an' you'll be arright then?' he answered.

'Na, that's no go; I can't do thet.' He had often asked her to live with him entirely, but she had always refused.

'You can come along of me, an' I'll tike a room in a lodgin' 'ouse in 'Olloway, an' we can live there as if we was married.'

'Wot abaht yer work?'

'I can get work over the other side as well as I can 'ere. I'm abaht sick of the wy things is goin' on.'

'So am I; but I can't leave mother.'

'She can come, too.'

'Not when I'm not married. I shouldn't like 'er ter know as I'd--as I'd gone wrong.'

'Well, I'll marry yer. Swop me bob, I wants ter badly enough.'

'Yer can't; yer married already.'

'Thet don't matter! If I give the missus so much a week aht of my screw, she'll sign a piper ter give up all clime ter me, an' then we can get spliced. One of the men as I works with done thet, an' it was arright.'

Liza shook her head.

'Na, yer can't do thet now; it's bigamy, an' the cop tikes yer, an' yer gits twelve months' 'ard for it.'

'But swop me bob, Liza, I can't go on like this. Yer knows the missus--well, there ain't no bloomin' doubt abaht it, she knows as you an' me are carryin' on, an' she mikes no bones abaht lettin' me see it.'

'She don't do thet?'

'Well, she don't exactly sy it, but she sulks an' won't speak, an' then when I says anythin' she rounds on me an' calls me all the nimes she can think of. I'd give 'er a good 'idin', but some'ow I don't like ter! She mikes the plice a 'ell ter me, an' I'm not goin' ter stand it no longer!'

'You'll ave ter sit it, then; yer can't chuck it.'

'Yus I can, an' I would if you'd come along of me. I don't believe you like me at all, Liza, or you'd come.'

She turned towards him and put her arms round his neck.

'Yer know I do, old cock,' she said. 'I like yer better than anyone else in the world; but I can't go awy an' leave mother.'

'Bli'me me if I see why; she's never been much ter you. She mikes yer slave awy ter pay the rent, an' all the money she earns she boozes.'

'Thet's true, she ain't been wot yer might call a good mother ter me--but some'ow she's my mother, an' I don't like ter leave 'er on 'er own, now she's so old--an' she can't do much with the rheumatics. An' besides, Jim dear, it ain't only mother, but there's yer own kids, yer can't leave them.'

He thought for a while, and then said:

'You're abaht right there, Liza; I dunno if I could get on without the kids. If I could only tike them an' you too, swop me bob, I should be 'appy.'

Liza smiled sadly.

'So yer see, Jim, we're in a bloomin' 'ole, an' there ain't no way aht of it thet I can see.'

He took her on his knees, and pressing her to him, kissed her very long and very lovingly.

'Well, we must trust ter luck,' she said again, 'p'raps somethin' 'll 'appen soon, an' everythin' 'll come right in the end--when we gets four balls of worsted for a penny.'

It was past twelve, and separating, they went by different ways along the dreary, wet, deserted roads till they came to Vere Street.

The street seemed quite different to Liza from what it had been three months before. Tom, the humble adorer, had quite disappeared from her life. One day, three or four weeks after the August Bank Holiday, she saw him dawdling along the pavement, and it suddenly struck her that she had not seen him for a long time; but she had been so full of her happiness that she had been unable to think of anyone but Jim. She wondered at his absence, since before wherever she had been there was he certain to be also. She passed him, but to her astonishment he did not speak to her. She thought by some wonder he had not seen her, but she felt his gaze resting upon her. She turned back, and suddenly he dropped his eyes and looked down, walking on as if he had not seen her, but blushing furiously.

'Tom,' she said, 'why don't yer speak ter me.'

He started and blushed more than ever.

'I didn't know yer was there,' he stuttered.

'Don't tell me,' she said, 'wot's up?'

'Nothin' as I knows of,' he answered uneasily.

'I ain't offended yer, 'ave I, Tom?'

'Na, not as I knows of,' he replied, looking very unhappy.

'You don't ever come my way now,' she said.

'I didn't know as yer wanted ter see me.'

'Garn! Yer knows I likes you as well as anybody.'

'Yer likes so many people, Liza,' he said, flushing.

'What d'yer mean?' said Liza indignantly, but very red; she was afraid he knew now, and it was from him especially she would have been so glad to hide it.

'Nothin',' he answered.

'One doesn't say things like thet without any meanin', unless one's a blimed fool.'

'You're right there, Liza,' he answered. 'I am a blimed fool.' He looked at her a little reproachfully, she thought, and then he said 'Good-bye,' and turned away.

At first she was horrified that he should know of her love for Jim, but then she did not care. After all, it was nobody's business, and what did anything matter as long as she loved Jim and Jim loved her? Then she grew angry that Tom should suspect her; he could know nothing but that some of the men had seen her with Jim near Vauxhall, and it seemed mean that he should condemn her for that. Thenceforward, when she ran against Tom, she cut him; he never tried to speak to her, but as she passed him, pretending to look in front of her, she could see that he always blushed, and she fancied his eyes were very sorrowful. Then several weeks went by, and as she began to feel more and more lonely in the street she regretted the quarrel; she cried a little as she thought that she had lost his faithful gentle love and she would have much liked to be friends with him again. If he had only made some advance she would have welcomed him so cordially, but she was too proud to go to him herself and beg him to forgive her--and then how could he forgive her?

She had lost Sally too, for on her marriage Harry had made her give up the factory; he was a young man with principles worthy of a Member of Parliament, and he had said:

'A woman's plice is 'er 'ome, an' if 'er old man can't afford ter keep 'er without 'er workin' in a factory--well, all I can say is thet 'e'd better go an' git single.'

'Quite right, too,' agreed his mother-in-law; 'an' wot's more, she'll 'ave a baby ter look after soon, an' thet'll tike 'er all 'er time, an' there's no one as knows thet better than me, for I've 'ad twelve, ter sy nothin' of two stills an' one miss.'

Liza quite envied Sally her happiness, for the bride was brimming over with song and laughter; her happiness overwhelmed her.

'I am 'appy,' she said to Liza one day a few weeks after her marriage. 'You dunno wot a good sort 'Arry is. 'E's just a darlin', an' there's no mistikin' it. I don't care wot other people sy, but wot I says is, there's nothin' like marriage. Never a cross word passes his lips, an' mother 'as all 'er meals with us an' 'e says all the better. Well I'm thet 'appy I simply dunno if I'm standin' on my 'ead or on my 'eels.'

But alas! it did not last too long. Sally was not so full of joy when next Liza met her, and one day her eyes looked very much as if she had been crying.

'Wot's the matter?' asked Liza, looking at her. 'Wot 'ave yer been blubberin' abaht?'

'Me?' said Sally, getting very red. 'Oh, I've got a bit of a toothache, an'--well, I'm rather a fool like, an' it 'urt so much that I couldn't 'elp cryin'.'

Liza was not satisfied, but could get nothing further out of her. Then one day it came out. It was a Saturday night, the time when women in Vere Street weep. Liza went up into Sally's room for a few minutes on her way to the Westminster Bridge Road, where she was to meet Jim. Harry had taken the top back room, and Liza, climbing up the second flight of stairs, called out as usual.

'Wot ho, Sally!'

The door remained shut, although Liza could see that there was a light in the room; but on getting to the door she stood still, for she heard the sound of sobbing. She listened for a minute and then knocked: there was a little flurry inside, and someone called out:

''Oo's there?'

'Only me,' said Liza, opening the door. As she did so she saw Sally rapidly wipe her eyes and put her handkerchief away. Her mother was sitting by her side, evidently comforting her.

'Wot's up, Sal?' asked Liza.

'Nothin',' answered Sally, with a brave little gasp to stop the crying, turning her face downwards so that Liza should not see the tears in her eyes; but they were too strong for her, and, quickly taking out her handkerchief, she hid her face in it and began to sob broken-heartedly. Liza looked at the mother in interrogation.

'Oh, it's thet man again!' said the lady, snorting and tossing her head.

'Not 'Arry?' asked Liza, in surprise.

'Not 'Arry--'oo is it if it ain't 'Arry? The villin!'

'Wot's 'e been doin', then?' asked Liza again.

'Beatin' 'er, that's wot 'e's been doin'! Oh, the villin, 'e oughter be ashimed of 'isself 'e ought!'

'I didn't know 'e was like that!' said Liza.

'Didn't yer? I thought the 'ole street knew it by now,' said Mrs. Cooper indignantly. 'Oh, 'e's a wrong 'un, 'e is.'

'It wasn't 'is fault,' put in Sally, amidst her sobs; 'it's only because 'e's 'ad a little drop too much. 'E's arright when 'e's sober.'

'A little drop too much! I should just think 'e'd 'ad, the beast! I'd give it 'im if I was a man. They're all like thet--'usbinds is all alike; they're arright when they're sober--sometimes--but when they've got the liquor in 'em, they're beasts, an' no mistike. I 'ad a 'usbind myself for five-an'-twenty years, an' I know 'em.'

'Well, mother,' sobbed Sally, 'it was all my fault. I should 'ave come 'ome earlier.'

'Na, it wasn't your fault at all. Just you look 'ere, Liza: this is wot 'e done an' call 'isself a man. Just because Sally'd gone aht to 'ave a chat with Mrs. McLeod in the next 'ouse, when she come in 'e start bangin' 'er abaht. An' me, too, wot d'yer think of that!' Mrs. Cooper was quite purple with indignation.

'Yus,' she went on, 'thet's a man for yer. Of course, I wasn't goin' ter stand there an' see my daughter bein' knocked abaht; it wasn't likely--was it? An' 'e rounds on me, an' 'e 'its me with 'is fist. Look 'ere.' She pulled up her sleeves and showed two red and brawny arms. ''E's bruised my arms; I thought 'e'd broken it at fust. If I 'adn't put my arm up, 'e'd 'ave got me on the 'ead, an' 'e might 'ave killed me. An' I says to 'im, "If you touch me again, I'll go ter the police-station, thet I will!" Well, that frightened 'im a bit, an' then didn't I let 'im 'ave it! "You call yerself a man," says I, "an' you ain't fit ter clean the drains aht." You should 'ave 'eard the language 'e used. "You dirty old woman," says 'e, "you go away; you're always interferin' with me." Well, I don't like ter repeat wot 'e said, and thet's the truth. An' I says ter 'im, "I wish yer'd never married my daughter, an' if I'd known you was like this I'd 'ave died sooner than let yer."'

'Well, I didn't know 'e was like thet!' said Liza.

''E was arright at fust,' said Sally.

'Yus, they're always arright at fust! But ter think it should 'ave come to this now, when they ain't been married three months, an' the first child not born yet! I think it's disgraceful.'

Liza stayed a little while longer, helping to comfort Sally, who kept pathetically taking to herself all the blame of the dispute; and then, bidding her good night and better luck, she slid off to meet Jim.

When she reached the appointed spot he was not to be found. She waited for some time, and at last saw him come out of the neighbouring pub.

'Good night, Jim,' she said as she came up to him.

'So you've turned up, 'ave yer?' he answered roughly, turning round.

'Wot's the matter, Jim?' she asked in a frightened way, for he had never spoken to her in that manner.

'Nice thing ter keep me witin' all night for yer to come aht.'

She saw that he had been drinking, and answered humbly.

'I'm very sorry, Jim, but I went in to Sally, an' 'er bloke 'ad been knockin' 'er abaht, an' so I sat with 'er a bit.'

'Knockin' 'er abaht, 'ad 'e? and serve 'er damn well right too; an' there's many more as could do with a good 'idin'!'

Liza did not answer. He looked at her, and then suddenly said:

'Come in an' 'ave a drink.'

'Na, I'm not thirsty; I don't want a drink,' she answered.

'Come on,' he said angrily.

'Na, Jim, you've had quite enough already.'

''Oo are you talkin' ter?' he said. 'Don't come if yer don't want ter; I'll go an' 'ave one by myself.'

'Na, Jim, don't.' She caught hold of his arm.

'Yus, I shall,' he said, going towards the pub, while she held him back. 'Let me go, can't yer! Let me go!' He roughly pulled his arm away from her. As she tried to catch hold of it again, he pushed her back, and in the little scuffle caught her a blow over the face.

'Oh!' she cried, 'you did 'urt!'

He was sobered at once.

'Liza,' he said. 'I ain't 'urt yer?' She didn't answer, and he took her in his arms. 'Liza, I ain't 'urt you, 'ave I? Say I ain't 'urt yer. I'm so sorry, I beg your pardon, Liza.'

'Arright, old chap,' she said, smiling charmingly on him. 'It wasn't the blow that 'urt me much; it was the wy you was talkin'.'

'I didn't mean it, Liza.' He was so contrite, he could not humble himself enough. 'I 'ad another bloomin' row with the missus ter-night, an' then when I didn't find you 'ere, an' I kept witin' an' witin'--well, I fair downright lost my 'air. An' I 'ad two or three pints of four 'alf, an'--well, I dunno--'

'Never mind, old cock. I can stand more than thet as long as yer loves me.'

He kissed her and they were quite friends again. But the little quarrel had another effect which was worse for Liza. When she woke up next morning she noticed a slight soreness over the ridge of bone under the left eye, and on looking in the glass saw that it was black and blue and green. She bathed it, but it remained, and seemed to get more marked. She was terrified lest people should see it, and kept indoors all day; but next morning it was blacker than ever. She went to the factory with her hat over her eyes and her head bent down; she escaped observation, but on the way home she was not so lucky. The sharp eyes of some girls noticed it first.

'Wot's the matter with yer eye?' asked one of them.

'Me?' answered Liza, putting her hand up as if in ignorance. 'Nothin' thet I knows of.'

Two or three young men were standing by, and hearing the girl, looked up.

'Why, yer've got a black eye, Liza!'

'Me? I ain't got no black eye!'

'Yus you 'ave; 'ow d'yer get it?'

'I dunno,' said Liza. 'I didn't know I 'ad one.'

'Garn! tell us another!' was the answer. 'One doesn't git a black eye without knowin' 'ow they got it.'

'Well, I did fall against the chest of drawers yesterday; I suppose I must 'ave got it then.'

'Oh yes, we believe thet, don't we?'

'I didn't know 'e was so 'andy with 'is dukes, did you, Ted?' asked one man of another.

Liza felt herself grow red to the tips of her toes.

'Who?' she asked.

'Never you mind; nobody you know.'

At that moment Jim's wife passed and looked at her with a scowl. Liza wished herself a hundred miles away, and blushed more violently than ever.

'Wot are yer blushin' abaht?' ingenuously asked one of the girls.

And they all looked from her to Mrs. Blakeston and back again. Someone said: ''Ow abaht our Sunday boots on now?' And a titter went through them. Liza's nerve deserted her; she could think of nothing to say, and a sob burst from her. To hide the tears which were coming from her eyes she turned away and walked homewards. Immediately a great shout of laughter broke from the group, and she heard them positively screaming till she got into her own house.

十一月。风和日丽的季节过去了，随之而去的是吉姆和丽莎的爱情的欢乐。

他们夜里来到亚尔培堤，只觉得阴沉寒冷；有时薄雾笼罩着河岸，使一盏盏灯光朦朦胧胧地化成一个个大光圈；又时常下着小雨，阴冷入骨。路上偶有行人，撑着伞，眼睛直盯着前方，匆匆在阴湿和寒冷中走过；时而一辆出租马车很快地经过，两边泥浆飞溅。

那些凳子都空着没人坐，除了或许有个把无家可归、又没钱找个地方投宿的可怜人，蜷缩在角落里，头钻在胸窝里，死人般地沉睡着。

湿的泥浆把丽莎的裙子粘住在她腿上，潮气从腿上渐渐侵袭到全身，终于使她噤战不止，为了得到一点暖气，紧紧贴着吉姆。

有时候他们跑进滑铁卢注或查林广场车站的三等车候车室，坐在那里。但那儿不象夏夜的公园和河堤。那儿暖和，可是热使他们潮湿的农服蒸发出难闻的味儿，煤气灯耀眼睛，而且他们讨厌那穿流不息地出出进进的人，一开门就是一阵冷风．他们讨厌车站管理员和脚夫们叫喊“开车了”的喧嚷和机车刺耳的气笛声，讨厌那一片忙乱、嘈杂和烦嚣。

到十一点钟光景，来往火车少了，他们可以安静一点，可是他们心情不宁，感到烦闷、忧伤、痛苦。

有一天晚上，他们坐在滑铁卢车站的候车室里。外面是大雾——十一月份的黄色的浓雾弥漫着整个候车室，直往肺里钻，它叫人嘴里苦涩，眼睛刺痛。此刻是十一点半左右，车站上异常地清静：几个乘客穿着大衣、围着围巾，踱来踱去，在等待末班火车，一两个脚夫站在那里打呵欠。

丽莎和吉姆在那儿闷坐了一个钟头，彼此没说过一句话；两个人都抑郁不欢，好似头脑里压着沉重的铅块。

丽莎身子向前倾着，臂肘撑在膝盖上，双手捧着脸。

“我能堂堂正正地做人该多好，”她终于说，眼睛也不抬一抬。

“是啊，你为什么不跟我在一起？那样你不就好了吗？”他回答。

“不．那不行，我不能那样做。”

他几次三番要求她干脆跟他住一起去，然而她始终不答应。

“你可以跟我一起住，我到霍洛韦注去租间屋子，我们在那里一起住，就象结了婚的一样。”

“你的工作怎么办？”

“我能这里找到工作，也能在那边找到工作。我对现在的情况实在受不了啦。”

“我也是，可我不能把我妈丢下。”

“她可以一起去嘛。”

“我没有结婚．不能叫她去。我不愿意让她知道——知道我走错了路。”

“我跟你结婚。天啊，我是日思夜想正要跟你结婚呀。”

“你不能；你已经结婚了。”

“那没有关系！要是我每个月工钱里拿出一点给我老婆，她会签字立凭据，放弃她对我的一切要求的，那样我们就好结婚了。有个和我在一起干活的人就是那样做的，什么都解决。”

丽莎摇摇头。

“不，我现在不能这样做；这要犯重婚罪，警察把你抓去，你要吃官司，服一年苦役。”

“但是，天晓得，丽莎，我没法一直这样下去。你知道我那老婆——该死的，她毫无疑问知道你和我搅在一起，她都在我面前说穿了。”

“她不会说穿吧？”

“嗯，她并不明说，可她发脾气，不睬我，而当我说了什么的时候，她就跟我吵，什么都挖空心思地骂得出来。我要狠狠揍她一顿，可我又不大想动手！她把一个家闹得变成了我的地狱．我实在忍受不下去啊！”

“你只好忍耐I你没有办法。”

“有办法，我有办法，那就是你跟我走。我看你根本不喜欢我，否则你准跟我走了。”

她转身向他，双臂抱着他的脖子。

“你知道我喜欢你的，我亲爱的．”她说。“你是我天下最喜欢的人，但是我不能丢下我妈走掉呀。"

“我真不懂为什么；她从没有好好待过你。她要你做死做活给她付房租，而她挣的钱全部喝酒喝掉。”

“的确，她对我从来不是个你说的好妈妈——可是她总是我的妈妈，我不愿把她一个人丢下不管，而且她年纪这么大，患着风湿又不能多做什么事。再说，亲爱的吉姆，不光是我妈，还有你自己的孩子们，你不能丢了他们。”

他想了想，然后说——

“你这话也对，丽莎；我恐怕是丢不下他们。要是我能带着他们，也带着你，一起走，老天爷，我才开心哪。”

丽莎苦笑了一下。

“所以你瞧，吉姆，我们的处境真糟透，我竟毫无办法。”

他把她抱在膝盖上，紧紧搂住她，长长地热情地吻着她。

“唉，我们只得听天由命，”她又说，“或许就会有什么转机，最后一切都好——到时候一个铜币买四团绒线。”

时间已过十二点，他们分手了，各自沿着阴暗、潮湿、阒无人影的道路，分头回到维尔街去。

丽莎觉得这条小街似乎跟三个月前完全两样了，谦卑地爱慕她的汤姆已经在她生命中消失了。

还是在八月公假日过后三、四个星期的某一天，她曾经看见汤姆徘徊在人行道上，她顿觉好久没有见他了。只是当时她满怀欢乐，除了吉姆之外，谁都不在心上。她不知汤姆到哪儿去了，因为在过去，无论她到哪里，汤姆总也在那里。

她经过他身边，可是他并不理她，这使她大为惊异。

她想会不会碰巧他没有看见她，不过她明明觉得他的目光注视着她。

她回过头来，他突然低头往下看，仿佛没看见她似地向前走去，可是面孔涨得通红。

“汤姆，”她招呼他，“你怎么不理我？’’

他愣了一下，面孔涨得更红了。

“我没看到你，”他回答。

“别对我装蒜，”她说；“到底怎么回事？’’

“我也不知道，”他勉强地说。

“我没有得罪你吧，汤姆？”

“不，我没有觉得，”他回答，很沮丧的样子。

“你这一阵子一直不来接近我，”她说。

“我不知道你要和我见面。”

“去！你知道我同喜欢别人一样喜欢你。”

“你喜欢的人太多了，丽莎，”他涨红着脸说。

“你这是什么意思？”丽莎气愤地说，但是脸也涨得很红；她怕他这会儿都知道了，她是特别不愿意让他知道的。

“没有什么，”他答道。

“一个人说这话不会没有意思，除非他是该死的傻子。”

“你说对了，丽莎，”他回答，“我是个该死的傻子。”

他对她瞥了一眼，她觉得他目光里带有责骂的意思。他接着说了声“再见’’，转身就走了。

开始她很怕他知道了她对吉姆的爱情；后来她觉得也无所谓。毕竟，这不关别人的事，只要她爱吉姆、吉姆爱她，有什么关系？

然后她又恼恨汤姆怀疑她；他除了有几个人曾经在沃克斯霍尔附近看见她和吉姆在一起之外，别的什么也不会知道。她以为他凭这一点对她大惊小怪，十分可恶。

从那一回之后，她遇上汤姆就回避他。他从不想对她说话，但是她经过他身边的时候，尽管他装着看在她前面的样子，她看得出他每次都脸红，同时总觉得他眼睛里流露着非常悲伤的神色。

过了几个星期，她越来越感觉到在小街上怪孤寂的。她懊悔那回跟汤姆吵嘴。她想到失去了他的忠实而温柔的爱情，哭泣起来，她真想跟他重归于好。

当时只要他主动有些表示，她马上就热情欢迎他了，而她又是那么高傲，不肯自己去要求他原谅她——不过，他怎么能原谅她呢？

她也失去了萨莉，因为她一结婚，哈利就叫她放弃了厂里的工作。他是个足以当国会议员讲一篇大道理的人，他说一

“女人的位置是在家庭里。．如果一个男人不能养活老婆，非要她到厂里去做工——那末，我只能认为他还是做光棍的好。”

“这也对，”他的丈母娘同意；“而且她很快就有孩子要照顾，这我是比什么人都体会，我生过十二个孩子，还不算两个死胎和一次流产。”

丽莎很羡慕萨莉的幸福，因为新娘快活得又是唱歌，又是欢笑，简直乐不可支。

“我很幸福．”她在结婚的几个星期后有一天对丽莎说。“你不知道哈利多好。他真是个宝贝，没错的。我不管人家怎么说，我说没有比结婚更幸福的。他嘴里从没有一句恼火的话。我妈三顿都在我们这儿吃，他说这再好也没有。嗳，我真是快活得东南西北也分不清了。”

奈何好景不常！

后来丽莎碰到她，萨莉可就不是那么喜满胸怀了。有一天她眼睛很象是哭过的样子。

“怎么啦？”丽莎瞧着她。“怎么你眼睛都哭肿了？”

“我？”萨莉说，一阵脸红。“噢，我有点牙痛——我真有点傻，牙痛得厉害，我不禁哭了。”

丽莎对这回答不满意，可也没法再问出什么来。

后来另有一天，这才真相大白。

那是个星期六的夜晚，是维尔街上女人哭泣的时候。

丽莎在到威斯敏斯特桥大道去碰头吉姆的路上，顺便到萨莉屋里去看看她。哈利租的是间顶层的后房，丽莎爬到第二座楼梯时，照例叫道——

“喂，嗬，萨莉！”

房门不开，虽然丽莎看得出房间里面灯亮着。她听见呜咽的声音，所以她到房门口，站停了脚。她听了一会，然后敲敲房门，里面一阵慌张，接着有人叫着答应——

“谁啊？”

“就是我，”丽莎说，推门进去。她踏进房门，只见萨莉急忙揩揩眼睛，把手帕塞开。她母亲坐在她旁边，显然在安慰她。

“发生什么事啦？”丽莎问。

“没事，”萨莉回答，拚命屏住了哭泣，低下了头，不让丽莎看见她眼眶里的泪水。但是泪水还是直涌而出，她迅速拿出手帕，掩着面孔，伤心地抽噎起来。丽莎向她母亲疑问地望望。

“啊，又是那个家伙！”老太太说着，仰天长叹。

“不是哈利吧！”丽莎惊异地说。

“不是哈利？一一不是哈利又是准！那个流氓!”

“他干出了什么来啦？”丽莎又问。

“打她，这就是他干出来的！啊，这个流氓，他改为自己害臊——应该害臊！”

“我原先不知道他是那样的人！”丽莎说。

“你不知道？我想现在整条街上都知道了，”库柏老太太愤恨地说。“唉，他真不是个东西！”

“这不是他的错，”萨莉抽抽搭搭地哭着插嘴说，“他只是因为多喝了一口。他不喝醉的时候是好好的。”

“多喝了一口！我看他也确实是多喝了一口，这畜生！我要是个男的，我要好好教训他一顿。他们都是那个样子——做丈夫的都是一样；有时候他们不喝醉，确是好好的；可一喝醉就是畜生，没错的。过去我也有丈夫，一起生活了二十五年，所以我懂得他们。”

“不过，妈，”萨莉抽噎着说，“这回全是我不好。我该早些回家的。”

“不，这根本不是你的过错。你瞧瞧这里，丽莎：这是他干的，还自己算是个男子汉。就只因为萨莉出去和隔壁麦克劳德太太聊了会天，回到屋里，他就把她乱打。还打我，你倒想想看！”库柏太太气愤得脸都发了紫。

“是的，”她继续说，“这叫是男子汉。当然我总不见得站在那里，眼看我女儿被乱踢乱打吧？他又骂我，用拳头打我。瞧这里。”

她撩起袖子，露出两条又红又强壮的．臂膊。

“他打伤了我的手臂；我起初还当打断了呢。要不是我举起臂膀来，他会打我头上，甚至把我打死了的。

“我对他说，‘你敢再碰碰我，我报警察局去，我报局去！’

“嗨，这一下他可有点害怕了，我就这样放过他吗！

“‘你还自己算是个男子汉，’我说，‘你还不配去通阴沟呢。’

“你没听到他说的下流话。‘你这肮脏的老太婆，’他说，‘你滚开；你老是跟我缠不清。’我实在不高兴重复他说的话。

“我对他说，‘我女儿不做你老婆多好，我早知道你是这个样子，我死也不会让她嫁给你。”’

“唉，我也想不到他是这样的！”丽莎说。

“开始的时候，他很好的，”萨莉说。

“是啊，他们开始的时候总是很好的！可是你想想看，现在他们结婚还不到三个月，第一个孩子还没生下，已经闹到这个地步！真丢人哪！”

丽莎继续待了一会，帮着安慰安慰萨莉，可怜她始终把这回吵架的过错拉在自己身上。

最后她向萨莉道了晚安，祝她今后幸福，自己赶去会见吉姆了。

她到了约好的地点，不看见他。她等了好一会，才看见他从附近一家小酒店里出来。

“晚上好，吉姆，”她跑到他面前招呼他。

“你到底来了，是不是？”他回过头来，粗暴地说。

“怎么了，吉姆？”她怯声怯气地问，因为他以前从来没有这样对她说话过。

“你好哇，叫我整夜地等着你出来！”

她知道他喝了酒，她用歉疚的口气回答说——

“对不起，吉姆，我到萨莉那里去弯了弯。她男人打了她一顿，所以我陪她坐了一会。”

“打了一顿吗？也是活该；该好好打的女人多着呢！”

丽莎不响。他朝她看看，然后忽然说——

“一起去喝一杯。”

“不，我不渴，我不想喝，”她回答。

“一起去”，他凶狠狠地说。

“不要去了，吉姆，你已经喝得够多了。"

“你在对谁说话？”他说。“你不去就不去，我一个人去喝一杯。”

“不，吉姆，不要去。’’她拖着他的手臂。

“我要去，”他说着，往小酒店走去，丽莎拖住他。

“让我去，你让我！让我去！”他猛力把丽莎甩开。她还想去拖住他，他推开她，在你拉我扯的当儿，他给她j：卜面一拳。

“噢！”她说，“你打得我好痛！”

他顿时清醒了过来。

“丽莎．”他说。“我没有打痛你吧？”

她不作声，他把她抱在怀里。

“丽莎，我没有打痛你吧，没有吧？说我没有打痛你。我很遗憾，我求你原谅我，丽莎。”

“好，亲爱的，”她说，对他温柔地微笑着。“这一拳倒没什么，你说话的口气和态度叫我心痛。”

“我是无心的，丽莎，’’他很后悔，尽量低声下气地说。“今夜我跟老太婆又大吵了一场，跑到这里又不看见你，尽等着等着——唉，我实在恼火了。因此我去喝了两、三品脱四便士半的啤酒——我自己也不知道——”

“不要紧，亲爱的，只要你爱我，更厉害的我也受得了。”

他吻她，他们又完全和好了。

不过，这一场小吵架对丽莎有更坏的影响。

当她第二天醒来的时候，她觉得左眼底下的面颊骨上有点痛．朝镜子里一看，原来是又黑、又青、又绿的一块。她把它洗刷也洗刷不掉，而且似乎反而更加显著。她深怕人家看到，所以在家里躲了一整天，可是第二天这一块更黑得厉害。

她到厂里去的时候，把帽子盖着眼睛，把头沉得低低的，总算没被人发觉。但是她在回家的路上，没有这样运气。有几个姑娘目光锐利，首先发现。

“你的眼睛怎么了？”一个姑娘问。

“我？’’丽莎应道，假装糊涂，伸手摸摸。“我不知道嘛。”

有两三个年轻小伙子站在旁边，听到了那姑娘说的话，也注意到了。

“呀，你眼睛青肿了，丽莎！”

“我？我眼睛没有青肿！”

“青肿了；怎么会青肿了的？”

“我不知道，”丽莎说。“我不知道我眼睛青肿。”

“得了！你再说谎吧！”这是她得到的回答。“没有人会眼睛青肿了而不知怎么青肿的。”

“哦，我昨天确实在五斗橱上撞过一下，准是那一撞撞出来的。”

“原来如此，我们才相信哪，相信吗？”

“我倒不知道他的拳头有这么厉害，你本来知道吗，特德？”一个男的问另一个男的。

丽莎觉得从脸上一直红到了脚趾尖。

“你们说谁？”她问。

“你别管，你不认识的。”

这时候，吉姆的妻子走过，她对丽莎恶狠狠地看看。丽莎恨不得自己远在一百英里外，脸涨得更红了。

“你为什么脸红了？”那些姑娘中的一个爽快地问。

他们的目光从丽莎身上移到布莱克斯顿太太身上，又重新移回来。

有一个人说，“这下我们该穿起节日的皮靴，庆祝我们胜利了吧？”大伙嗤嗤地窃笑。

丽莎的神经支持不住了；她一句对答的话也想不出来，突然哽咽起来。为了不让人看见她夺眶而出的眼泪，转身就朝家里走。

人群中立即爆发出一阵叫笑，直到她走进屋里，还清清楚楚听得见他们的尖叫。

引用

Chapter 11

A few days afterwards Liza was talking with Sally, who did not seem very much happier than when Liza had last seen her.
''E ain't wot I thought 'e wos,' she said. 'I don't mind sayin' thet; but 'e 'as a lot ter put up with; I expect I'm rather tryin' sometimes, an' 'e means well. P'raps 'e'll be kinder like when the biby's born.'
'Cheer up, old gal,' answered Liza, who had seen something of the lives of many married couples; 'it won't seem so bad after yer gets used to it; it's a bit disappointin' at fust, but yer gits not ter mind it.'

After a little Sally said she must go and see about her husband's tea. She said good-bye, and then rather awkwardly:
'Say, Liza, tike care of yerself!'
'Tike care of meself--why?' asked Liza, in surprise.
'Yer know wot I mean.'
'Na, I'm darned if I do.'
'Thet there Mrs. Blakeston, she's lookin' aht for you.'
'Mrs. Blakeston!' Liza was startled.
'Yus; she says she's goin' ter give you somethin' if she can git 'old on yer. I should advise yer ter tike care.'
'Me?' said Liza.
Sally looked away, so as not to see the other's face.
'She says as 'ow yer've been messin' abaht with 'er old man.'
Liza didn't say anything, and Sally, repeating her good-bye, slid off.

Liza felt a chill run through her. She had several times noticed a scowl and a look of anger on Mrs. Blakeston's face, and she had avoided her as much as possible; but she had no idea that the woman meant to do anything to her. She was very frightened, a cold sweat broke out over her face. If Mrs. Blakeston got hold of her she would be helpless, she was so small and weak, while the other was strong and muscular. Liza wondered what she would do if she did catch her.
That night she told Jim, and tried to make a joke of it.
'I say, Jim, your missus--she says she's goin' ter give me socks if she catches me.'
'My missus! 'Ow d'yer know?'
'She's been tellin' people in the street.'

'Go' lumme,' said Jim, furious, 'if she dares ter touch a 'air of your 'ead, swop me dicky I'll give 'er sich a 'idin' as she never 'ad before! By God, give me the chanst, an' I would let 'er 'ave it; I'm bloomin' well sick of 'er sulks!' He clenched his fist as he spoke.
Liza was a coward. She could not help thinking of her enemy's threat; it got on her nerves, and she hardly dared go out for fear of meeting her; she would look nervously in front of her, quickly turning round if she saw in the distance anyone resembling Mrs. Blakeston. She dreamed of her at night; she saw the big, powerful form, the heavy, frowning face, and the curiously braided brown hair; and she would wake up with a cry and find herself bathed in sweat.

It was the Saturday afternoon following this, a chill November day, with the roads sloshy, and a grey, comfortless sky that made one's spirits sink. It was about three o'clock, and Liza was coming home from work; she got into Vere Street, and was walking quickly towards her house when she saw Mrs. Blakeston coming towards her. Her heart gave a great jump. Turning, she walked rapidly in the direction she had come; with a screw round of her eyes she saw that she was being followed, and therefore went straight out of Vere Street. She went right round, meaning to get into the street from the other end and, unobserved, slip into her house, which was then quite close; but she dared not risk it immediately for fear Mrs. Blakeston should still be there; so she waited about for half an hour. It seemed an age. Finally, taking her courage in both hands, she turned the corner and entered Vere Street. She nearly ran into the arms of Mrs. Blakeston, who was standing close to the public-house door.
Liza gave a little cry, and the woman said, with a sneer:

'Yer didn't expect ter see me, did yer?'
Liza did not answer, but tried to walk past her. Mrs. Blakeston stepped forward and blocked her way.
'Yer seem ter be in a mighty fine 'urry,' she said.
'Yus, I've got ter git 'ome,' said Liza, again trying to pass.
'But supposin' I don't let yer?' remarked Mrs. Blakeston, preventing her from moving.
'Why don't yer leave me alone?' Liza said. 'I ain't interferin' with you!'
'Not interferin' with me, aren't yer? I like thet!'
'Let me go by,' said Liza. 'I don't want ter talk ter you.'
'Na, I know thet,' said the other; 'but I want ter talk ter you, an' I shan't let yer go until I've said wot I wants ter sy.'
Liza looked round for help. At the beginning of the altercation the loafers about the public-house had looked up with interest, and gradually gathered round in a little circle. Passers-by had joined in, and a number of other people in the street, seeing the crowd, added themselves to it to see what was going on. Liza saw that all eyes were fixed on her, the men amused and excited, the women unsympathetic, rather virtuously indignant. Liza wanted to ask for help, but there were so many people, and they all seemed so much against her, that she had not the courage to. So, having surveyed the crowd, she turned her eyes to Mrs. Blakeston, and stood in front of her, trembling a little, and very white.
'Na, 'e ain't there,' said Mrs. Blakeston, sneeringly, 'so yer needn't look for 'im.'

'I dunno wot yer mean,' answered Liza, 'an' I want ter go awy. I ain't done nothin' ter you.'
'Not done nothin' ter me?' furiously repeated the woman. 'I'll tell yer wot yer've done ter me--you've robbed me of my 'usbind, you 'ave. I never 'ad a word with my 'usbind until you took 'im from me. An' now it's all you with 'im. 'E's got no time for 'is wife an' family--it's all you. An' 'is money, too. I never git a penny of it; if it weren't for the little bit I 'ad saved up in the siving-bank, me an' my children 'ud be starvin' now! An' all through you!' She shook her fist at her.
'I never 'ad any money from anyone.'
'Don' talk ter me; I know yer did. Yer dirty bitch! You oughter be ishimed of yourself tikin' a married man from 'is family, an' 'im old enough ter be yer father.'
'She's right there!' said one or two of the onlooking women. 'There can't be no good in 'er if she tikes somebody else's 'usbind.'
'I'll give it yer!' proceeded Mrs. Blakeston, getting more hot and excited, brandishing her fist, and speaking in a loud voice, hoarse with rage. 'Oh, I've been tryin' ter git 'old on yer this four weeks. Why, you're a prostitute--that's wot you are!'

'I'm not!' answered Liza indignantly.
'Yus, you are,' repeated Mrs. Blakeston, advancing menacingly, so that Liza shrank back. 'An' wot's more, 'e treats yer like one. I know 'oo give yer thet black eye; thet shows what 'e thinks of yer! An' serve yer bloomin' well right if 'e'd give yer one in both eyes!'
Mrs. Blakeston stood close in front of her, her heavy jaw protruded and the frown of her eyebrows dark and stern. For a moment she stood silent, contemplating Liza, while the surrounders looked on in breathless interest.
'Yer dirty little bitch, you!' she said at last. 'Tike that!' and with her open hand she gave her a sharp smack on the cheek.
Liza started back with a cry and put her hand up to her face.
'An' tike thet!' added Mrs. Blakeston, repeating the blow. Then, gathering up the spittle in her mouth, she spat in Liza's face.

Liza sprang on her, and with her hands spread out like claws buried her nails in the woman's face and drew them down her cheeks. Mrs. Blakeston caught hold of her hair with both hands and tugged at it as hard as she could. But they were immediately separated.
''Ere, 'old 'ard!' said some of the men. 'Fight it aht fair and square. Don't go scratchin' and maulin' like thet.'
'I'll fight 'er, I don't mind!' shouted Mrs. Blakeston, tucking up her sleeves and savagely glaring at her opponent.
Liza stood in front of her, pale and trembling; as she looked at her enemy, and saw the long red marks of her nails, with blood coming from one or two of them, she shrank back.
'I don't want ter fight,' she said hoarsely.
'Na, I don't suppose yer do,' hissed the other, 'but yer'll damn well 'ave ter!'
'She's ever so much bigger than me; I've got no chanst,' added Liza tearfully.

'You should 'ave thought of thet before. Come on!' and with these words Mrs. Blakeston rushed upon her. She hit her with both fists one after the other. Liza did not try to guard herself, but imitating the woman's motion, hit out with her own fists; and for a minute or two they continued thus, raining blows on one another with the same windmill motion of the arms. But Liza could not stand against the other woman's weight; the blows came down heavy and rapid all over her face and head. She put up her hands to cover her face and turned her head away, while Mrs. Blakeston kept on hitting mercilessly.
'Time!' shouted some of the men--'Time!' and Mrs. Blakeston stopped to rest herself.
'It don't seem 'ardly fair to set them two on tergether. Liza's got no chanst against a big woman like thet,' said a man among the crowd.

'Well, it's er' own fault,' answered a woman; 'she didn't oughter mess about with 'er 'usbind.'
'Well, I don't think it's right,' added another man. 'She's gettin' it too much.'
'An' serve 'er right too!' said one of the women. 'She deserves all she gets an' a damn sight more inter the bargain.'
'Quite right,' put in a third; 'a woman's got no right ter tike someone's 'usbind from 'er. An' if she does she's bloomin' lucky if she gits off with a 'idin'--thet's wot I think.'
'So do I. But I wouldn't 'ave thought it of Liza. I never thought she was a wrong 'un.'
'Pretty specimen she is!' said a little dark woman, who looked like a Jewess. 'If she messed abaht with my old man, I'd stick 'er--I swear I would!'
'Now she's been carryin' on with one, she'll try an' git others--you see if she don't.'
'She'd better not come round my 'ouse; I'll soon give 'er wot for.'

Meanwhile Liza was standing at one corner of the ring, trembling all over and crying bitterly. One of her eyes was bunged up, and her hair, all dishevelled, was hanging down over her face. Two young fellows, who had constituted themselves her seconds, were standing in front of her, offering rather ironical comfort. One of them had taken the bottom corners of her apron and was fanning her with it, while the other was showing her how to stand and hold her arms.
'You stand up to 'er, Liza,' he was saying; 'there ain't no good funkin' it, you'll simply get it all the worse. You 'it 'er back. Give 'er one on the boko, like this--see; yer must show a bit of pluck, yer know.'
Liza tried to check her sobs.
'Yus, 'it 'er 'ard, that's wot yer've got ter do,' said the other. 'An' if yer find she's gettin' the better on yer, you close on 'er and catch 'old of 'er 'air and scratch 'er.'

'You've marked 'er with yer nails, Liza. By gosh, you did fly on her when she spat at yer! thet's the way ter do the job!'
Then turning to his fellow, he said:
'D'yer remember thet fight as old Mother Cregg 'ad with another woman in the street last year?'
'Na,' he answered, 'I never saw thet.'
'It was a cawker; an' the cops come in and took 'em both off ter quod.'
Liza wished the policemen would come and take her off; she would willingly have gone to prison to escape the fiend in front of her; but no help came.

'Time's up!' shouted the referee. 'Fire away!'
'Tike care of the cops!' shouted a man.
'There's no fear abaht them,' answered somebody else. 'They always keeps out of the way when there's anythin' goin' on.'
'Fire away!'
Mrs. Blakeston attacked Liza madly; but the girl stood up bravely, and as well as she could gave back the blows she received. The spectators grew tremendously excited.
'Got 'im again!' they shouted. 'Give it 'er, Liza, thet's a good 'un!--'it 'er 'ard!'
'Two ter one on the old 'un!' shouted a sporting gentleman; but Liza found no backers.
'Ain't she standin' up well now she's roused?' cried someone.
'Oh, she's got some pluck in 'er, she 'as!'

'Thet's a knock-aht!' they shouted as Mrs. Blakeston brought her fist down on to Liza's nose; the girl staggered back, and blood began to flow. Then, losing all fear, mad with rage, she made a rush on her enemy, and rained down blows all over her nose and eyes and mouth. The woman recoiled at the sudden violence of the onslaught, and the men cried:
'By God, the little 'un's gettin' the best of it!'
But quickly recovering herself the woman closed with Liza, and dug her nails into her flesh. Liza caught hold of her hair and pulled with all her might, and turning her teeth on Mrs. Blakeston tried to bite her. And thus for a minute they swayed about, scratching, tearing, biting, sweat and blood pouring down their faces, and their eyes fixed on one another, bloodshot and full of rage. The audience shouted and cheered and clapped their hands.
'Wot the 'ell's up 'ere?'

'I sy, look there,' said some of the women in a whisper. 'It's the 'usbind!'
He stood on tiptoe and looked over the crowd.
'My Gawd,' he said, 'it's Liza!'
Then roughly pushing the people aside, he made his way through the crowd into the centre, and thrusting himself between the two women, tore them apart. He turned furiously on his wife.
'By Gawd, I'll give yer somethin' for this!'
And for a moment they all three stood silently looking at one another.
Another man had been attracted by the crowd, and he, too, pushed his way through.
'Come 'ome, Liza,' he said.

'Tom!'
He took hold of her arm, and led her through the people, who gave way to let her pass. They walked silently through the street, Tom very grave, Liza weeping bitterly.
'Oh, Tom,' she sobbed after a while, 'I couldn't 'elp it!' Then, when her tears permitted, 'I did love 'im so!'
When they got to the door she plaintively said: 'Come in,' and he followed her to her room. Here she sank on to a chair, and gave herself up to her tears.
Tom wetted the end of a towel and began wiping her face, grimy with blood and tears. She let him do it, just moaning amid her sobs:
'You are good ter me, Tom.'
'Cheer up, old gal,' he said kindly, 'it's all over now.'
After a while the excess of crying brought its cessation. She drank some water, and then taking up a broken handglass she looked at herself, saying:

'I am a sight!' and proceeded to wind up her hair. 'You 'ave been good ter me, Tom,' she repeated, her voice still broken with sobs; and as he sat down beside her she took his hand.
'Na, I ain't,' he answered; 'it's only wot anybody 'ud 'ave done.'
'Yer know, Tom,' she said, after a little silence, 'I'm so sorry I spoke cross like when I met yer in the street; you ain't spoke ter me since.'
'Oh, thet's all over now, old lidy, we needn't think of thet.'
'Oh, but I 'ave treated yer bad. I'm a regular wrong 'un, I am.'
He pressed her hand without speaking.
'I say, Tom,' she began, after another pause. 'Did yer know thet--well, you know--before ter-day?'
He blushed as he answered:
'Yus.'

She spoke very sadly and slowly.
'I thought yer did; yer seemed so cut up like when I used to meet yer. Yer did love me then, Tom, didn't yer?'
'I do now, dearie,' he answered.
'Ah, it's too lite now,' she sighed.
'D'yer know, Liza,' he said, 'I just abaht kicked the life aht of a feller 'cause 'e said you was messin' abaht with--with 'im.'
'An' yer knew I was?'
'Yus--but I wasn't goin' ter 'ave anyone say it before me.'
'They've all rounded on me except you, Tom. I'd 'ave done better if I'd tiken you when you arst me; I shouldn't be where I am now, if I 'ad.'
'Well, won't yer now? Won't yer 'ave me now?'
'Me? After wot's 'appened?'
'Oh, I don't mind abaht thet. Thet don't matter ter me if you'll marry me. I fair can't live without yer, Liza--won't yer?'
She groaned.

'Na, I can't, Tom, it wouldn't be right.'
'Why, not, if I don't mind?'
'Tom,' she said, looking down, almost whispering, 'I'm like that--you know!'
'Wot d'yer mean?'
She could scarcely utter the words--
'I think I'm in the family wy.'
He paused a moment; then spoke again.
'Well--I don't mind, if yer'll only marry me.'
'Na, I can't, Tom,' she said, bursting into tears; 'I can't, but you are so good ter me; I'd do anythin' ter mike it up ter you.'
She put her arms round his neck and slid on to his knees.

'Yer know, Tom, I couldn't marry yer now; but anythin' else--if yer wants me ter do anythin' else, I'll do it if it'll mike you 'appy.'
He did not understand, but only said:
'You're a good gal, Liza,' and bending down he kissed her gravely on the forehead.
Then with a sigh he lifted her down, and getting up left her alone. For a while she sat where he left her, but as she thought of all she had gone through her loneliness and misery overcame her, the tears welled forth, and throwing herself on the bed she buried her face in the pillows.
* * * * *
Jim stood looking at Liza as she went off with Tom, and his wife watched him jealously.
'It's 'er you're thinkin' abaht. Of course you'd 'ave liked ter tike 'er 'ome yerself, I know, an' leave me to shift for myself.'
'Shut up!' said Jim, angrily turning upon her.

'I shan't shut up,' she answered, raising her voice. 'Nice 'usbind you are. Go' lumme, as good as they mike 'em! Nice thing ter go an' leave yer wife and children for a thing like thet! At your age, too! You oughter be ashimed of yerself. Why, it's like messin' abaht with your own daughter!'
'By God!'--he ground his teeth with rage--'if yer don't leave me alone, I'll kick the life aht of yer!'
'There!' she said, turning to the crowd--'there, see 'ow 'e treats me! Listen ter that! I've been 'is wife for twenty years, an' yer couldn't 'ave 'ad a better wife, an' I've bore 'im nine children, yet say nothin' of a miscarriage, an' I've got another comin', an' thet's 'ow 'e treats me! Nice 'usbind, ain't it?' She looked at him scornfully, then again at the surrounders as if for their opinion.
'Well, I ain't goin' ter stay 'ere all night; get aht of the light!' He pushed aside the people who barred his way, and the one or two who growled a little at his roughness, looking at his angry face, were afraid to complain.

'Look at 'im!' said his wife. ''E's afraid, 'e is. See 'im slinkin' awy like a bloomin' mongrel with 'is tail between 'is legs. Ugh!' She walked just behind him, shouting and brandishing her arms.
'Yer dirty beast, you,' she yelled, 'ter go foolin' abaht with a little girl! Ugh! I wish yer wasn't my 'usbind; I wouldn't be seen drowned with yer, if I could 'elp it. Yer mike me sick ter look at yer.'
The crowd followed them on both sides of the road, keeping at a discreet distance, but still eagerly listening.
Jim turned on her once or twice and said:
'Shut up!'

But it only made her more angry. 'I tell yer I shan't shut up. I don't care 'oo knows it, you're a ----, you are! I'm ashimed the children should 'ave such a father as you. D'yer think I didn't know wot you was up ter them nights you was awy--courtin', yus, courtin'? You're a nice man, you are!'
Jim did not answer her, but walked on. At last he turned round to the people who were following and said:
'Na then, wot d'you want 'ere? You jolly well clear, or I'll give some of you somethin'!'
They were mostly boys and women, and at his words they shrank back.
''E's afraid ter sy anythin' ter me,' jeered Mrs. Blakeston. ''E's a beauty!'

Jim entered his house, and she followed him till they came up into their room. Polly was giving the children their tea. They all started up as they saw their mother with her hair and clothes in disorder, blotches of dried blood on her face, and the long scratch-marks.
'Oh, mother,' said Polly, 'wot is the matter?'
''E's the matter.' she answered, pointing to her husband. 'It's through 'im I've got all this. Look at yer father, children; e's a father to be proud of, leavin' yer ter starve an' spendin' 'is week's money on a dirty little strumper.'
Jim felt easier now he had not got so many strange eyes on him.

'Now, look 'ere,' he said, 'I'm not goin' ter stand this much longer, so just you tike care.'
'I ain't frightened of yer. I know yer'd like ter kill me, but yer'll get strung up if you do.'
'Na, I won't kill yer, but if I 'ave any more of your sauce I'll do the next thing to it.'
'Touch me if yer dare,' she said, 'I'll 'ave the law on you. An' I shouldn't mind 'ow many month's 'ard you got.'
'Be quiet!' he said, and, closing his hand, gave her a heavy blow in the chest that made her stagger.
'Oh, you ----!' she screamed.
She seized the poker, and in a fury of rage rushed at him.

'Would yer?' he said, catching hold of it and wrenching it from her grasp. He threw it to the end of the room and grappled with her. For a moment they swayed about from side to side, then with an effort he lifted her off her feet and threw her to the ground; but she caught hold of him and he came down on the top of her. She screamed as her head thumped down on the floor, and the children, who were standing huddled up in a corner, terrified, screamed too.
Jim caught hold of his wife's head and began beating it against the floor.
She cried out: 'You're killing me! Help! help!'
Polly in terror ran up to her father and tried to pull him off.
'Father, don't 'it 'er! Anythin' but thet--for God's sike!'
'Leave me alone,' he said, 'or I'll give you somethin' too.'

She caught hold of his arm, but Jim, still kneeling on his wife, gave Polly a backhanded blow which sent her staggering back.
'Tike that!'
Polly ran out of the room, downstairs to the first-floor front, where two men and two women were sitting at tea.
'Oh, come an' stop father!' she cried. ''E's killin' mother!'
'Why, wot's 'e doin'?'
'Oh, 'e's got 'er on the floor, an' 'e's bangin' 'er 'ead. 'E's payin' 'er aht for givin' Liza Kemp a 'idin'.'
One of the women started up and said to her husband:
'Come on, John, you go an' stop it.'
'Don't you, John,' said the other man. 'When a man's givin' 'is wife socks it's best not ter interfere.'
'But 'e's killin' 'er,' repeated Polly, trembling with fright.

'Garn!' rejoined the man, 'she'll git over it; an' p'raps she deserves it, for all you know.'
John sat undecided, looking now at Polly, now at his wife, and now at the other man.
'Oh, do be quick--for God's sike!' said Polly.
At that moment a sound as of something smashing was heard upstairs, and a woman's shriek. Mrs. Blakeston, in an effort to tear herself away from her husband, had knocked up against the wash-hand stand, and the whole thing had crashed down.
'Go on, John,' said the wife.
'No, I ain't goin'; I shan't do no good, an' 'e'll only round on me.'
'Well, you are a bloomin' lot of cowards, thet's all I can say,' indignantly answered the wife. 'But I ain't goin' ter see a woman murdered; I'll go an' stop 'im.'

With that she ran upstairs and threw open the door. Jim was still kneeling on his wife, hitting her furiously, while she was trying to protect her head and face with her hands.
'Leave off!' shouted the woman.
Jim looked up. ''Oo the devil are you?' he said.
'Leave off, I tell yer. Aren't yer ashimed of yerself, knockin' a woman abaht like that?' And she sprang at him, seizing his fist.
'Let go,' he said, 'or I'll give you a bit.'
'Yer'd better not touch me,' she said. 'Yer dirty coward! Why, look at 'er, she's almost senseless.'
Jim stopped and gazed at his wife. He got up and gave her a kick.

'Git up!' he said; but she remained huddled up on the floor, moaning feebly. The woman from downstairs went on her knees and took her head in her arms.
'Never mind, Mrs. Blakeston. 'E's not goin' ter touch yer. 'Ere, drink this little drop of water.' Then turning to Jim, with infinite disdain: 'Yer dirty blackguard, you! If I was a man I'd give you something for this.'
Jim put on his hat and went out, slamming the door, while the woman shouted after him: 'Good riddance!'
* * * * *
'Lord love yer,' said Mrs. Kemp, 'wot is the matter?'

She had just come in, and opening the door had started back in surprise at seeing Liza on the bed, all tears. Liza made no answer, but cried as if her heart were breaking. Mrs. Kemp went up to her and tried to look at her face.
'Don't cry, dearie; tell us wot it is.'
Liza sat up and dried her eyes.
'I am so un'appy!'
'Wot 'ave yer been doin' ter yer fice? My!'
'Nothin'.'
'Garn! Yer can't 'ave got a fice like thet all by itself.'
'I 'ad a bit of a scrimmage with a woman dahn the street,' sobbed out Liza.

'She 'as give yer a doin'; an' yer all upset--an' look at yer eye! I brought in a little bit of stike for ter-morrer's dinner; you just cut a bit off an' put it over yer optic, that'll soon put it right. I always used ter do thet myself when me an' your poor father 'ad words.'
'Oh, I'm all over in a tremble, an' my 'ead, oo, my 'ead does feel bad!'
'I know wot yer want,' remarked Mrs. Kemp, nodding her head, 'an' it so 'appens as I've got the very thing with me.' She pulled a medicine bottle out of her pocket, and taking out the cork smelt it. 'Thet's good stuff, none of your firewater or your methylated spirit. I don't often indulge in sich things, but when I do I likes to 'ave the best.'
She handed the bottle to Liza, who took a mouthful and gave it her back; she had a drink herself, and smacked her lips.
Thet's good stuff. 'Ave a drop more.'
'Na,' said Liza, 'I ain't used ter drinkin' spirits.'

She felt dull and miserable, and a heavy pain throbbed through her head. If she could only forget!
'Na, I know you're not, but, bless your soul, thet won' 'urt yer. It'll do you no end of good. Why, often when I've been feelin' thet done up thet I didn't know wot ter do with myself, I've just 'ad a little drop of whisky or gin--I'm not partic'ler wot spirit it is--an' it's pulled me up wonderful.'
Liza took another sip, a slightly longer one; it burnt as it went down her throat, and sent through her a feeling of comfortable warmth.
'I really do think it's doin' me good,' she said, wiping her eyes and giving a sigh of relief as the crying ceased.
'I knew it would. Tike my word for it, if people took a little drop of spirits in time, there'd be much less sickness abaht.'

They sat for a while in silence, then Mrs. Kemp remarked:
'Yer know, Liza, it strikes me as 'ow we could do with a drop more. You not bein' in the 'abit of tikin' anythin' I only brought just this little drop for me; an' it ain't took us long ter finish thet up. But as you're an invalid like we'll git a little more this time; it's sure ter turn aht useful.'
'But you ain't got nothin' ter put it in.'
'Yus, I 'ave,' answered Mrs. Kemp; 'there's thet bottle as they gives me at the 'orspital. Just empty the medicine aht into the pile, an' wash it aht, an' I'll tike it round to the pub myself.'
Liza, when she was left alone, began to turn things over in her mind. She did not feel so utterly unhappy as before, for the things she had gone through seemed further away.
'After all,' she said, 'it don't so much matter.'
Mrs. Kemp came in.
''Ave a little drop more, Liza.' she said.

'Well, I don't mind if I do. I'll get some tumblers, shall I? There's no mistike abaht it,' she added, when she had taken a little, 'it do buck yer up.'
'You're right, Liza--you're right. An' you wanted it badly. Fancy you 'avin' a fight with a woman! Oh, I've 'ad some in my day, but then I wasn't a little bit of a thing like you is. I wish I'd been there, I wouldn't 'ave stood by an' looked on while my daughter was gettin' the worst of it; although I'm turned sixty-five, an' gettin' on for sixty-six, I'd 'ave said to 'er: "If you touch my daughter you'll 'ave me ter deal with, so just look aht!"'
She brandished her glass, and that reminding her, she refilled it and Liza's.

'Ah, Liza,' she remarked, 'you're a chip of the old block. Ter see you settin' there an' 'avin' your little drop, it mikes me feel as if I was livin' a better life. Yer used ter be rather 'ard on me, Liza, 'cause I took a little drop on Saturday nights. An', mind, I don't sy I didn't tike a little drop too much sometimes--accidents will occur even in the best regulated of families, but wot I say is this--it's good stuff, I say, an' it don't 'urt yer.'
'Buck up, old gal!' said Liza, filling the glasses, 'no 'eel-taps. I feel like a new woman now. I was thet dahn in the dumps--well, I shouldn't 'ave cared if I'd been at the bottom of the river, an' thet's the truth.'
'You don't sy so,' replied her affectionate mother.

'Yus, I do, an' I mean it too, but I don't feel like thet now. You're right, mother, when you're in trouble there's nothin' like a bit of spirits.'
'Well, if I don't know, I dunno 'oo does, for the trouble I've 'ad, it 'ud be enough to kill many women. Well, I've 'ad thirteen children, an' you can think wot thet was; everyone I 'ad I used ter sy I wouldn't 'ave no more--but one does, yer know. You'll 'ave a family some day, Liza, an' I shouldn't wonder if you didn't 'ave as many as me. We come from a very prodigal family, we do, we've all gone in ter double figures, except your Aunt Mary, who only 'ad three--but then she wasn't married, so it didn't count, like.'
They drank each other's health. Everything was getting blurred to Liza, she was losing her head.

'Yus,' went on Mrs. Kemp, 'I've 'ad thirteen children an' I'm proud of it. As your poor dear father used ter sy, it shows as 'ow one's got the blood of a Briton in one. Your poor dear father, 'e was a great 'and at speakin' 'e was: 'e used ter speak at parliamentary meetin's--I really believe 'e'd 'ave been a Member of Parliament if 'e'd been alive now. Well, as I was sayin', your father 'e used ter sy, "None of your small families for me, I don't approve of them," says 'e. 'E was a man of very 'igh principles, an' by politics 'e was a Radical. "No," says 'e, when 'e got talkin', "when a man can 'ave a family risin' into double figures, it shows 'e's got the backbone of a Briton in 'im. That's the stuff as 'as built up England's nime and glory! When one thinks of the mighty British Hempire," says 'e, "on which the sun never sets from mornin' till night, one 'as ter be proud of 'isself, an' one 'as ter do one's duty in thet walk of life in which it 'as pleased Providence ter set one--an' every man's fust duty is ter get as many children as 'e bloomin' well can." Lord love yer--'e could talk, I can tell yer.'

'Drink up, mother,' said Liza. 'You're not 'alf drinkin'.' She flourished the bottle. 'I don't care a twopanny 'ang for all them blokes; I'm quite 'appy, an' I don't want anythin' else.'
'I can see you're my daughter now,' said Mrs. Kemp. 'When yer used ter round on me I used ter think as 'ow if I 'adn't carried yer for nine months, it must 'ave been some mistike, an' yer wasn't my daughter at all. When you come ter think of it, a man 'e don't know if it's 'is child or somebody else's, but yer can't deceive a woman like thet. Yer couldn't palm off somebody else's kid on 'er.'
'I am beginnin' ter feel quite lively,' said Liza. 'I dunno wot it is, but I feel as if I wanted to laugh till I fairly split my sides.'
And she began to sing: 'For 'e's a jolly good feller--for 'e's a jolly good feller!'

Her dress was all disarranged; her face covered with the scars of scratches, and clots of blood had fixed under her nose; her eye had swollen up so that it was nearly closed, and red; her hair was hanging over her face and shoulders, and she laughed stupidly and leered with heavy, sodden ugliness.
'Disy, Disy! I can't afford a kerridge. But you'll look neat, on the seat Of a bicycle mide for two.'
She shouted out the tunes, beating time on the table, and her mother, grinning, with her thin, grey hair hanging dishevelled over her head, joined in with her weak, cracked voice--
'Oh, dem golden kippers, oh!'
Then Liza grew more melancholy and broke into 'Auld Lang Syne'.
'Should old acquaintance be forgot And never brought to mind?

* * * * *
For old lang syne'.
Finally they both grew silent, and in a little while there came a snore from Mrs. Kemp; her head fell forward to her chest; Liza tumbled from her chair on to the bed, and sprawling across it fell asleep.
'_Although I am drunk and bad, be you kind, Cast a glance at this heart which is bewildered and distressed. O God, take away from my mind my cry and my complaint. Offer wine, and take sorrow from my remembrance. Offer wine._'

过了几天，丽莎跟萨莉在谈天，萨莉似乎没有丽莎上次看到她的时候那样快活。
“他不象我原先所想的那样，”她说。“我不妨这样说；不过他有许多地方也忍受着；我看有时候是我不好，而他心眼儿倒是不错的。也许孩子生了下来，他会待我好些。”
“开心点，萨莉，”丽莎看到过不少夫妻生活情况，她回答说。“你习惯之后就不会觉得那么糟糕，开始时候是令人失望的，但慢慢地你就不放在心上了。”

谈了一会，萨莉说她必须走了，要去准备她丈夫的茶点。
她说了再见，接着有点为难地对丽莎说一
“嗳，丽莎，你自己小心！”
“我自己小心——为什么？”丽莎诧异地问。
“你明白我的意思的。”
“不，我实在不明白。”
“就是那边那个布莱克斯顿太太，她在候着你。”
“布莱克斯顿太太！”丽莎吓了一跳。
“是的，她说只要她能抓到你，她就打你。我劝你小心些。”
“我？”丽莎说。
萨莉回转头，故意不朝丽莎的脸看。
“她说你跟她的老头儿搅在一起。”
丽莎默不作声，萨莉重又说了声再见，转身就走了。

丽莎感到一阵彻骨的寒噤。她不止一次看到布莱克斯顿太太那副杀气腾腾的怒容。她总是尽量回避她，但是她没有想到这个女人要对她怎么样。
她害怕极了，满脸淌着冷汗。
如果她被布莱克斯顿太太抓到，她将毫无办法，她又小又瘦弱，而那一个是又大又强壮。她不知万一被她抓到了怎么办。
那天夜里，她把这话告诉了吉姆，说得象是个笑话似的。
“我说，吉姆，你的老婆——她说她如果找到我，要送些袜子给我穿穿。注”
“我老婆！你怎么知道？”
“她在街上对人家说。”

“好吧，”吉姆说，火冒三丈地，“她敢碰你一根头发，我就揍她，叫她知道我的厉害！老天爷，给我机会，我要教训教训她，我对她那老是直眉瞪眼的样子恨透了！”他一面说，一面握握拳头。
丽莎是个胆小的姑娘。冤家的威胁始终盘旋在她头脑里，她吓得不大敢出门，只怕碰上了她。她提心吊胆地一直朝前看着，一看见远处有象布莱克斯顿太太的人，就急忙转身。她夜里做梦也梦见她，她看见那个高大、强壮的身影、那横眉怒目的凶恶的脸相，还有那编成一条条辫子的古怪的棕色头发；她时常急哭着醒来，一身大汗。
在这之后的一个星期六下午。十一月的阴湿天气，路上泥泞，天空灰蒙蒙的，使人精神萎靡。
三点钟光景，丽莎放工回家，走进维尔街，正匆匆往屋里走，忽然看见布莱克斯顿太太迎面过来。她吓了一大跳。
她连忙回头走。她从眼角里看到，她背后被那个女人钉着，所以她一直走出了维尔街。她兜了个圈子，目的是想从另一头进入这条小街，她家就在那边口头，她可以不让人看见，溜回家里。

可是她不敢立刻冒险兜入小街，因为她怕布莱克斯顿太太候在那里；所以等了约摸半个小时。这半个小时不知有多长。
最后她鼓足勇气，拐过转角，走进了维尔街。她差一点和布莱克斯顿太太撞了个满怀，原来她正站在那小酒店门口附近。
丽莎一声惊叫，那女人嘲笑她说一
“你没料到会碰上我，没料到吧？”
丽莎不答理，只想经她面前走过去。
布莱克斯顿太太跨前一步，挡住了她的去路。
“你好象怪急匆匆的，”她说。
“是呀，我要赶回家去，”丽莎说，又想走过去。
“可要是我不让你去呢？”布莱克斯顿太太拦住她。
“你干吗不放我走？”丽莎说。“我没有碍你事！”
“没有碍我事，你没有吗？那就好！’’
“让我过去，”丽莎说。“我不要跟你说话。”
“你不要，我知道，”那一个说，“可我要跟你说话！让我把要对你说的话都说了，才放你过去。”
丽莎四面看看，寻求解救。
吵闹刚开始的时候，小酒店周围闲荡的人们只是好奇地看看，后来逐渐聚成了一个小圈子。过路行人加入进来。街上其他的人看见一群人，也赶来看热闹。
丽莎看见所有人的眼睛都盯着她，男的感到有趣和起劲，女的不但不同情她，而且极为愤慨。丽莎想要求人救助，但是人那么多，而且他们都好象对她那么反感，所以她实在没有求救的勇气。
她向周围的人群环视了一圈、转脸瞧着布莱克斯顿太太。丽莎站在她面前，浑身发抖，脸色惨白。
“他不在，他不在这儿，”布莱克斯顿太太嗤笑着对她说，“所以你不用找他。”
“我不懂你什么意思，”丽莎回答说。“我要走。我没有碍你什么。”

“没有碍我什么？”那女人勃然大怒，重复她的话说。“我来告诉你，你碍了我什么——你把我的丈夫夺了去，你夺去了我的丈夫。你没把他夺去之前，我跟我丈夫从没吵过一句嘴。现在全是你，你跟他搅在一起，他没有时间顾自己的老婆、顾自己的家——全是你。还有，他的钱。我一个子儿都拿不到；要是没有我早先在银行里储蓄了的那点钱，我和孩子们都要饿死了！这一切都是你造成的！”
她对她挥挥拳头。
“我从没有拿过任何人的钱。”
“别跟我说；我知道你拿了。你这臭狗娘！你该自己晓得不要脸，勾搭结了婚的男人，破坏人家的家庭，人家男人年纪又大得好做你的爷老子。”
“她这话说得对！”旁边有两个女人说。“她跟别人的丈夫胡搅，不会有好处。”
“我要给你颜色看！”布莱克斯顿太太继续说，越说越激昂，越冲动，挥舞着拳头，因狂怒而叫喊得嗓子也发哑了。“我这四个星期来一直在候着你。哼，你这婊子——你就是婊子！”
“我不是！”丽莎气愤地回答。
“你是的，你是婊子，”布莱克斯顿太太重复说，咄咄逼人地走前一步，丽莎只得后退。“而且，他也把你当婊子。我知道你这眼睛是谁打青的，这就表明他是把你当什么的！他就是把你两只眼睛都打得又青又肿，也是活该！”
布莱克斯顿太太直站在她面前，坚实的下颚突出着，竖起墨黑的眉毛，凶相毕露。她站着沉默了一会，打量着丽莎，这会儿周围的人屏住了呼吸，看得紧张。

“你这肮脏的小狗娘，你！”她终于又开口了。“尝尝这个！”她张开手掌，向她面颊上啪的一记响亮的耳光。
丽莎哇的一声，倒退一步，用手捧住了面颊。
“再来一个！”布莱克斯顿太太说着，又是一巴掌。然后她在嘴里拌了一口唾沫，吐了丽莎一面孔。
丽莎纵身向她扑上去，张开手指，象爪子般地深深掐进那女人的脸皮里，然后顺着面颊往下抓。布莱克斯顿太太用双手揪住她的头发，拚命地拉。可是她们一会儿就被拖开了。
“停！停！”男人中间有几个说。“要规规矩矩地打。不能这样乱抓乱拉。”
“我跟她打；打好啦！”布莱克斯顿太太卷起袖子，野蛮地注视着她的对手。

丽莎站在她面前，脸色惨白，浑身发抖。她看看她的敌人．看看她抓出来的一条条血红的指甲印，有两条还在流血，她吓退了。
“我不要打，”她嘶哑地说。
“你不要打，我知道你不要打．”那一个发着嘘声说．“可是我非要你打不可！”
“她比我高大多少，我怎么打得过．”丽莎眼泪汪汪地加上一句。
“你早该想到这一点。来吧！”说着，布莱克斯顿太太又冲上去。她用两个拳头一个连一个地猛击丽莎。
丽莎不是招架，而是学那女人的样，也用两个拳头回击。她们这样连续一、两分钟，两人都象风车似地挥拳打对方。但是丽莎敌不过她强劲的手把子，满头满面挨着来得又重又快的拳头。
她举手遮住了脸，扭转了头，听任布莱克斯顿太太无情的毒打。
“暂停！”几个男人喊道——“暂停！”于是布莱克斯顿太太停下来休息一下。
“让她们两个对打不大公平。丽莎不是那么个高大的女人的对手．”人群中有一个男人说。
“嗯，这怪她自己不好．”一个女人反驳道，“她不应该和那个女人的丈夫胡搅。”
“不过．我觉得不对，”另一个女人又说，“她挨打得太厉害了。”

“她这也活该！”一个女人说。“她罪有应得，而且得到加倍的惩罚。”
“对啊．”又一个女人说；“一个女人不应该勾搭别个女人的丈夫。干了这种事，挨一顿打就算数，还是太便宜了她——照我看来。”
“我也是这样看法。不过我没有想到这会是丽莎。我从来没想到她是个坏东西。”
“她这个榜样很好：”一个矮小的黑黝黝的女人说，看上去她是犹太人。“要是她跟我的老头胡搅，我就杀死她——我发誓非杀死她不可！”
“既然她勾搭了一个，今后她就要勾搭另外的——你瞧着吧。”
“她识相点不要走近我们家；我也要教训教训她。”
他们这样你一句我一句的时候，丽莎始终站在这圈子的一个角落里周身发抖，伤心地哭泣着。
她的一只眼睛肿了起来，头发乱七八糟地披在面孔上。

两个小伙子以决斗中的助手自居，站在她面前，颇有讽刺意味地安慰着她。一个拎起她的围裙的下角，给她打扇，另一个比划着教她站立和举臂的姿势。
“你要顶住她，丽莎．”他在说，“退缩不行，你只会更加吃亏。你要还击。打她鼻子，你瞧，就象这样；你必须拿出点劲头来，你知道。”
丽莎竭力屏住啜泣。
“对，要打得重，你必须打得重，”另一个说。“如果她占着上风，你就扭住她，揪她的头发，抓她的脸。”
“你已经抓了她许多指甲印，丽莎。她向你啐唾沫的当儿．你确是猛扑上去了！就该那样干！”
他又转向他的同伙说——
“你记得去年我们街上格雷格老大娘跟另‘个女人打架的那一场吗？’’

“不．”他说，“那一场我没看到。’’
“那才精彩哪；后来警察来，把她们都抓了起来。”
丽莎巴不得警察来把她带走；她宁愿进监狱，逃开她面前的恶煞；奈何救星不来。
“休息时间过了！”裁判员喊道。“继续开打！”
“当心警察！”有个人喊道。
．．不用担心警察，”另外一个人回答说。“他们看见发生着什么事情，总是躲躲开的。”
“继续开打！”
布莱克斯顿太太疯狂地猛击丽莎；而这姑娘勇敢地站着，一边挨打，一边拼着命还击。
观众们看得有劲极了。
“又打中一拳！”他们叫嚷。“再给她一拳，丽莎，好，这一拳打得好！狠狠打！”
-二比一，老的领先！”一位爱好运动的先生叫道；丽莎觉得观众不在她一边。
“这回她拼起命来，不是还顶得住吗？”有人大声说。
“哦，她有点劲头，她有！”
正在这时候，布莱克斯顿太太一拳打中丽莎的鼻子。

“这一拳定局了！”他们大叫起来，看看那姑娘摇摇晃晃倒后去，鼻血直淌。
她愤怒得发了疯，一切恐惧都消失了，向她的敌人直扑上去，拳头象雨点般落在对方鼻子上、眼睛上、嘴巴上。那个女人在这突然的猛攻面前退缩起来，于是那些男人们又叫道一
“天哪，小的占优势了！”
但是那个女人很快就镇定下来，扭住丽莎，用指甲深深掐入她的肉里。丽莎狠命抓住她的头发，张开牙齿对着布莱克斯顿太太，要咬她。
她们这样扭来扭去，抓呀，撕呀，咬呀，两个人互相盯住，眼睛里充满了血和愤怒。观众喝彩、呼喊，拍手叫好。
“出了什么事？”
“喂，瞧，”女人中间有人低声说。“她丈夫来了。”
他踮起脚尖，从人群后面抬头看。
“我的天哪！”他说，“是丽莎！”
他粗暴地把人们推开，从人群中挤到圈子中央，插入那两个女人中间，把她们一把拉开。他恶狠狠对着他老婆——
“好哇，我要好好教训你！”
接着，他们三个人面面相觑，沉默了一会。

另一个男人被这人群吸引了过来。他也挤到了里边。
“回家去，丽莎，”他说。
“汤姆！”
他挽着她的手臂，搀扶她走出给她让路的人群。
他们默默无言地沿着小街走去，汤姆十分沉痛，丽莎哀哀啜泣。
“噢，汤姆．”她走了一段，抽噎着说，“我不由自主！”然后她泪如潮涌，“我实在爱他呀！”
他们到达她家门口时，她用哀求的口气说，“进来。”他跟着她到了她房间里。
一到屋里，她在一张椅子上倒下，大哭起来。
汤姆拿块手巾，把一端蘸湿了，给她揩干净粘着血和眼泪的面孔。她让他揩，只是抽抽搭搭地呻吟。
“你待我真好，汤姆。”
“打起精神来，好姑娘，”他亲切地说，“现在一切都过去了。”
过了一会，放纵的啼哭停止下来了。她喝了些水，然后拿起一面破镜子，朝自己照照，哀叹道
“我变成了这个模样！’’

她开始把头发盘起来。
“你待我真好，汤姆，”她重复说，依然是抽抽搭搭地。他在她身旁坐下，她握住了他的手。
“不，我没有做什么，”他回答；“这只是任何人都会做的。”
“你知道，汤姆，”稍稍沉默后，她说，“上回我在街上碰到你的时候，对你说话不大客气，我很对不起你；你从此没跟我说过话。’’
“哦，现在这些都成了过去，好姑娘，我们不必再去提它。”
“啊，可我待你不好。我是个十足的坏东西，的确。”
他默不作声地捏捏她的手。
“我说，汤姆，”又停顿了一下之后，她说。“你早已知道那个事情吗？——在今天以前你已经知道了吗？”
他涨红了脸回答说——
“是的。”

她非常悲伤地慢吞吞地说一
“我早就料你已经知道；我每次碰到你的时候，总看见你那么垂头丧气似的。你当时是爱我的，汤姆，是不是？”
“我现在也爱着你，亲爱的，”他说。
“呵，现在太晚了，”她叹息。
“你知道吗，丽莎，”他说，“我差些踢死一个人，就因为他说你跟他——有关系。”
“事实上，你是知道我确实是的。”
“是的——不过我不愿任何人在我面前说这个话。”
“除了你，汤姆，他们都跟我不对。当时你向我求婚，我答应了你就好了；我答应了你，不会落到今朝的地步。”
“那末，现在你答应吗？你答应要我吗？”
“我？出了这事情之后？”
“哦，我不把这放在心上。只要你嫁给我，我无所谓。我没有你简直没法生活，丽莎——你肯答应吗？”
她呻吟了一声。
“不，我不能，汤姆。这不行。”

“如果我不介意，有什么不行？”
“汤姆，”她说，沉着头，声音几乎在喉咙里，“我已经有——你知道！’’
“有什么？”
她这话实在难以出口——
“恐怕我已经有孕了。”
他打了个顿；然后他还是说——
“唔——只要你嫁给我，我无所谓。”
“不，我不能，汤姆，”她突然放声大哭，“我不能，可你偏又待我这样好；我愿作出一切来补偿你的恩情。”
她用双手攀着他的脖子，身子泻到他膝盖上。
“你知道，汤姆，我现在没法嫁给你了，可是你要我怎样——随便你另外要我怎样，我都愿意，只要使你快活。”
他不懂丽莎的意思，而只是说——
“你真是个好姑娘，丽莎，’’他俯下身去在她脑门子上庄重地亲了个吻。
他叹了口气，把她扶起来坐好，自己站起身来走了。

她在他把她放下的位子上坐了一会，回想她所经过的一切，孤寂和悲怆使她心情沉重得不禁泪如泉涌。她扑倒在床上，把脸埋在枕头里。
刚才丽莎跟汤姆走去的时候，吉姆瞧着丽莎，而他的妻子用妒忌的目光盯视着他。
“你是在想着她。我知道，你当然最好是自己送她回家去，而全不管我。”
“住口！”吉姆气势汹汹地对她说。
“我偏要说，”她提高了嗓门回答。“你这个丈夫好哇！口亨，好极啦！丢下老婆和孩子去搞那么个东西！你又是这么一把年纪！你该觉得羞耻。哼，就象跟你自己的女儿在胡搅！”
“你听着！”他愤怒得咬牙切齿，“你再跟我噜苏，我一脚踢死你！”

“你们瞧！’’她对着众人说，“你们瞧，他是怎样对待我的！你们听我说！我做了他二十年的妻子，你们哪儿也找不到更好的妻子；我替他生了九个孩子，一次流产还不算，现在又一个快生下来了，而他这样待我！真是个好丈夫，呸！”
她鄙夷地看看他，接着又面对着周围的人们，仿佛在要他们发表意见。
“我可不要在这里待到天亮；别跟我胡闹啦！”他把挡住他去路的人们推开；有两个对他的粗暴喝了一声，看看他的凶相，也不敢响了。
“你们看他！”他的妻子说。“他害怕了，他害怕。看他象条杂种狗，夹着尾巴溜了。呸！’’她跟在他背后，挥舞着臂膀嚷着。
“你这下流的畜生，你，”她叫骂道；“去跟个小丫头胡搅！呸！

我但愿你不是我丈夫；我掉在水里，也不愿被人看见跟你淹死在一起。我看见你都恶心。”
人们在街路两边跟着他们，小心保持着一定距离，但始终认真听着。
吉姆有一、两次回过头来对她说——
“住口！”
可是这反而给她火上加油。
“我告诉你，我偏要说。我不怕人家知道，知道你是——，你是！我为孩子们有你这样一个做爹的而羞耻。你以为我不知道你那些夜里在干些什么吗？——吊膀子，你，你在吊膀子！你这个好男人，你！”
吉姆闷声不响，只是向前跑。终于他转过身来，对跟着的人们说一
“喂，你们跟着干吗？你们好散了，再跟着，我可要给你们点颜色看！”
他们大多是男孩子和妇女，他们听了他这个话，都退回去了。
“他不敢对我说一句话，”布莱克斯顿太太讥笑他。“他真是个宝货！”
吉姆进了家门，她跟在他后面，一直上楼回到房间里。大女儿波莉正在给弟弟妹妹们吃点心。
当他们看到自己的母亲头发、衣裳弄得一塌糊涂，脸上满是结着的血块和长长的指甲痕，全都吓了一跳。
“噢，妈妈，”波莉说，“怎么回事？”

“问他！”她指着她丈夫，回答说。“全是他，叫我得到了这好报应。瞧你们的爸爸，孩子们，你们应该为有这样一个爸爸而骄傲，他把你们丢下不管，让你们饿死，自己拿了一个个星期的工钱，去花在一个肮脏的小婊子身上。”
吉姆此刻不看见周围有那么许多陌生的眼睛瞅住他了，心里轻松了些。
“喂，你听着，”他说，“我忍耐到了头了，你当心点。”
“我不怕你。我知道你恨不得把我杀了，可你杀了我，自己要上绞台。”
“不，我不要杀死你，不过你再要对我这样无法无天，我要打得你个半死。’’-
“你敢碰我，”她说；“我控告你。我不管你将服多少个月的苦役。’’
“闭嘴！”他喝道，同时握紧拳头，对准她胸口狠狠地一拳，把她打得跌跌撞撞。
“好，你——！”她尖声大叫。
她抓起火钳，怒不可遏地向他冲去。

“你来？”他说着，一把抓住火钳，从她手中夺了下来。他把它扔到了房间的另一头，和她扭打起来。
开始他们扭来扭去，扭了一会，他一下把她拎了起来，向地上扔去；但是她扭住着他，他扑倒在她身上。她的头砰的撞在地上，她急叫；孩子们缩在一个角落里，吓得也急叫起来。
吉姆揪住他老婆的头，尽往地上撞。
她叫起救命来，“你要杀死我！救命！救命！”
波莉惊慌地奔到她父亲身边，拼命想把他拖开。
“爹，别打她！看上帝份上，千万别打！”
“放手，”他说，“要不，我也揍你。”

她抓住他的臂膊，但是吉姆依然跪在他妻子身上，反手对波莉一拳，把她打得差些仰天翻倒。
“揍你！”
波莉奔出房门，赶到下面二楼前间，那里有两个男人和两个女人坐着在喝茶。
“嗨，你们去制止爸爸呀！”她叫道。“他要把妈妈打死了。”
“怎么，他在怎么样？”
“噢，他把她揿在地上，把她的头往地上撞。他因为她打了丽莎·肯普而在向她算帐。”
两个女人中的一个抢上来对她丈夫说——
“快去，约翰，你去制止他。”
“不要去，约翰，”另一个男人说。“男人在打老婆的时候，最好不要去劝解。”
“可是他要打死她了，”波莉重复说，吓得尽是哆嗦。
“没有的事！”那个男人说；“她打过就好；或许她也活该，谁知道。”

约翰坐在那儿犹豫不决，一会看看波莉，一会看看他妻子，一会看看另外的那个男人。
“啊，快呀，快呀——看在上帝份上！”波莉说。
这时候忽然听见楼上砰的什么东西打碎的声音和女人的尖叫。
原来布莱克斯顿太太在拼命摆脱她丈夫的挣扎中，撞到了洗脸盆架子上去，脸盆连架子全翻倒了下来。
“去呀，约翰，”他妻子说。
“不，我不去，我去也没用，他反而会跟我吵起来。”
“唉，你真是个胆小鬼，我只能这样说，”他妻子愤慨地说。“可我不能看着一个女人惨遭杀害，我去制止他。”
说完，她直奔上楼，推门进去。
吉姆正跪在他老婆身上，恶狠狠地打她，而她呢，用双手挡着头和脸。

“住手！’’那女人喊道。
吉姆抬头看看。
“你是什么人？”他说。
“住手，我叫你。你这样乱打一个女人，不难为情吗？”
她跳上前去，抓住他的拳头。
“放手．”他说，“否则我就给你几下。”
“你还是别碰我的好，”她说。“你这下流的胆小鬼！哼，你瞧她，她几乎已经没有知觉了。’’
吉姆住了手，定睛看看他老婆。他站起身子，踢了她一脚。
“起来l"他说；然而她始终蜷缩在地上，微弱地呻吟着。
二楼上来的那个女人跪倒下来，双手捧起她的手。
“不要紧，布莱克斯顿太太。他不会再碰你。这儿，喝一点水吧。”

她回头转向吉姆，带着无限轻蔑的神气对他说，“你这卑鄙的流氓，你！假如我是个男人，我决不会饶过你。”
吉姆戴上帽子，往门外一走，反手碰上房门；那女人在背后叫嚷：“滚得远些！”
“上帝保佑你，”肯普太太说，“是怎么回事啊？”
她刚回来，开进房门，看见丽莎躺在床上，哭成了个泪人儿，愣了一下。
丽莎没有回答，只是啼哭，仿佛她的心要碎了。肯普太太走上前去，想看看她的面孔。
“别哭，亲爱的；告诉我出了什么事。”
丽莎坐起来，揩揩干眼泪。
“我好伤心哟！”‘

“你怎么把脸弄成这个样子啦？唷！”
“没有什么。”
“别瞒我！你好端端的不可能把脸弄得这样。”
“我跟街上那头的一个女人冲突了一下．”丽莎抽噎着说。
“她打你了，你被打得一塌糊涂——瞧你的眼睛！我带回来一小块肉排，准备明天做菜的，你就切下一片，贴在眼睛上面，很快就好了。，当年我跟你爹吵架，我自己就用这东西的。”
“噢，我浑身发抖，我的头，噢，我的头痛得可厉害！”
“我懂得你需要什么，’’肯普太太点点头说。“我正好有着你所需要的东西。”
她从袋里掏出一只药瓶，拔掉塞子，嗅了嗅。

“这是好货；决不是你们那种烧酒或者加甲醇的酒精。我不大喝这些东西，而我喝起来，总喜欢是最好的好货。”
她把瓶子递给丽莎，丽莎喝了一口还给她；她自己也喝了一口，咂着嘴唇。
“这是好货。再喝一口。”
“不，”丽莎说，“我不会喝烈酒。”
她感到昏昏沉沉的，很难过，头里一阵阵剧痛。她但愿能失去了知觉！
“是的，我知道你不会喝酒，不过，上帝保佑你，那东西对你没有害处。它会给你带来说不完的好处。是呀，我常常在觉得实在精疲力竭、无可奈何的时候，喝一点威士忌或者荷兰酒一一我倒不一定要哪一种烈酒——一喝就精神振作，不能再灵。”
丽莎又喝了一口，这回稍微多些；它象燃烧着一样从喉咙里下去，一股令人陶醉的热流传遍全身。
“我喝了这东西的确觉得舒服，”她说，停止了哭泣，擦擦干眼泪，舒了口气。

“我早就知道你喝了就舒服。相信我的话，要是人们都及时喝口烈酒，各种毛病要少得多。”
她们默默坐了片刻，接着肯普太太又说一
“你知道，丽莎，我看我们可以再喝一点。平时你不喝这一类东西，所以我只给自己带来了这一点点，两个人一下就喝光了。但是你好象身体有毛病，我们该多喝一点，肯定对你有好处。”
“可你又没有装酒的大瓶子。”
“有，我有，”肯普太太答道，“我有医院里给我的那个瓶。只要把里面的药往垃圾堆里一倒，洗洗干净，我就自己拿到小酒店去买去。”
丽莎一个人留在家里，开始回顾发生了的事情。她并不觉得象早先那样无限的悲伤，因为她经受的一切似乎已经是遥远的往事。
“毕竟．”她说，“没有什么不得了的事。”
肯普太太回来了。

“再喝一点，丽莎，”她说。
“好，再喝一点也好。我喝它几杯吗？没错，”她喝了些之后，加上一句，“的确提精神。”
“对了，丽莎——对了。你非常需要喝酒。你想想看嘛，你跟那个女人打过架！哦，我年轻时候也打过架，不过我完全不象你这样。但愿刚才我在场，我决不会站在旁边看着自己女儿挨打。我虽然已经过了六十五，快六十六了，我还是要对她说：．你敢碰我女儿，就得跟我较量较量，你当心点！”

引用

Chapter 12

About the middle of the night Liza woke; her mouth was hot and dry, and a sharp, cutting pain passed through her head as she moved. Her mother had evidently roused herself, for she was lying in bed by her side, partially undressed, with all the bedclothes rolled round her. Liza shivered in the cold night, and taking off some of her things--her boots, her skirt, and jacket--got right into bed; she tried to get some of the blanket from her mother, but as she pulled Mrs. Kemp gave a growl in her sleep and drew the clothes more tightly round her. So Liza put over herself her skirt and a shawl, which was lying over the end of the bed, and tried to go to sleep.

But she could not; her head and hands were broiling hot, and she was terribly thirsty; when she lifted herself up to get a drink of water such a pang went through her head that she fell back on the bed groaning, and lay there with beating heart. And strange pains that she did not know went through her. Then a cold shiver seemed to rise in the very marrow of her bones and run down every artery and vein, freezing the blood; her skin puckered up, and drawing up her legs she lay huddled together in a heap, the shawl wrapped tightly round her, and her teeth chattering. Shivering, she whispered:
'Oh, I'm so cold, so cold. Mother, give me some clothes; I shall die of the cold. Oh, I'm freezing!'

But after awhile the cold seemed to give way, and a sudden heat seized her, flushing her face, making her break out into perspiration, so that she threw everything off and loosened the things about her neck.
'Give us a drink,' she said. 'Oh, I'd give anythin' for a little drop of water!'
There was no one to hear; Mrs. Kemp continued to sleep heavily, occasionally breaking out into a little snore.
Liza remained there, now shivering with cold, now panting for breath, listening to the regular, heavy breathing by her side, and in her pain she sobbed. She pulled at her pillow and said:
'Why can't I go to sleep? Why can't I sleep like 'er?'

And the darkness was awful; it was a heavy, ghastly blackness, that seemed palpable, so that it frightened her and she looked for relief at the faint light glimmering through the window from a distant street-lamp. She thought the night would never end--the minutes seemed like hours, and she wondered how she should live through till morning. And strange pains that she did not know went through her.
Still the night went on, the darkness continued, cold and horrible, and her mother breathed loudly and steadily by her side.

At last with the morning sleep came; but the sleep was almost worse than the wakefulness, for it was accompanied by ugly, disturbing dreams. Liza thought she was going through the fight with her enemy, and Mrs. Blakeston grew enormous in size, and multiplied, so that every way she turned the figure confronted her. And she began running away, and she ran and ran till she found herself reckoning up an account she had puzzled over in the morning, and she did it backwards and forwards, upwards and downwards, starting here, starting there, and the figures got mixed up with other things, and she had to begin over again, and everything jumbled up, and her head whirled, till finally, with a start, she woke.
The darkness had given way to a cold, grey dawn, her uncovered legs were chilled to the bone, and by her side she heard again the regular, nasal breathing of the drunkard.

For a long while she lay where she was, feeling very sick and ill, but better than in the night. At last her mother woke.
'Liza!' she called.
'Yus, mother,' she answered feebly.
'Git us a cup of tea, will yer?'
'I can't, mother, I'm ill.'
'Garn!' said Mrs. Kemp, in surprise. Then looking at her: 'Swop me bob, wot's up with yer? Why, yer cheeks is flushed, an' yer forehead--it is 'ot! Wot's the matter with yer, gal?'
'I dunno,' said Liza. 'I've been thet bad all night, I thought I was goin' ter die.'

'I know wot it is,' said Mrs. Kemp, shaking her head; 'the fact is, you ain't used ter drinkin', an' of course it's upset yer. Now me, why I'm as fresh as a disy. Tike my word, there ain't no good in teetotalism; it finds yer aht in the end, an' it's found you aht.'
Mrs. Kemp considered it a judgment of Providence. She got up and mixed some whisky and water.
''Ere, drink this,' she said. 'When one's 'ad a drop too much at night, there's nothin' like havin' a drop more in the mornin' ter put one right. It just acts like magic.'

'Tike it awy,' said Liza, turning from it in disgust; 'the smell of it gives me the sick. I'll never touch spirits again.'
'Ah, thet's wot we all says sometime in our lives, but we does, an' wot's more we can't do withaht it. Why, me, the 'ard life I've 'ad--.' It is unnecessary to repeat Mrs. Kemp's repetitions.
Liza did not get up all day. Tom came to inquire after her, and was told she was very ill. Liza plaintively asked whether anyone else had been, and sighed a little when her mother answered no. But she felt too ill to think much or trouble much about anything. The fever came again as the day wore on, and the pains in her head grew worse. Her mother came to bed, and quickly went off to sleep, leaving Liza to bear her agony alone. She began to have frightful pains all over her, and she held her breath to prevent herself from crying out and waking her mother. She clutched the sheets in her agony, and at last, about six o'clock in the morning, she could bear it no longer, and in the anguish of labour screamed out, and woke her mother.

Mrs. Kemp was frightened out of her wits. Going upstairs she woke the woman who lived on the floor above her. Without hesitating, the good lady put on a skirt and came down.
'She's 'ad a miss,' she said, after looking at Liza. 'Is there anyone you could send to the 'orspital?'
'Na, I dunno 'oo I could get at this hour?'
'Well, I'll git my old man ter go.'
She called her husband, and sent him off. She was a stout, middle-aged woman, rough-visaged and strong-armed. Her name was Mrs. Hodges.
'It's lucky you came ter me,' she said, when she had settled down. 'I go aht nursin', yer know, so I know all abaht it.'

'Well, you surprise me,' said Mrs. Kemp. 'I didn't know as Liza was thet way. She never told me nothin' abaht it.'
'D'yer know 'oo it is 'as done it?'
'Now you ask me somethin' I don't know,' replied Mrs. Kemp. 'But now I come ter think of it, it must be thet there Tom. 'E's been keepin' company with Liza. 'E's a single man, so they'll be able ter get married--thet's somethin'.'

'It ain't Tom,' feebly said Liza.
'Not 'im; 'oo is it, then?'
Liza did not answer.
'Eh?' repeated the mother, ''oo is it?'
Liza lay still without speaking.
'Never mind, Mrs. Kemp,' said Mrs. Hodges, 'don't worry 'er now; you'll be able ter find aht all abaht it when she gits better.'
For a while the two women sat still, waiting the doctor's coming, and Liza lay gazing vacantly at the wall, panting for breath. Sometimes Jim crossed her mind, and she opened her mouth to call for him, but in her despair she restrained herself.

The doctor came.
'D'you think she's bad, doctor?' asked Mrs. Hodges.
'I'm afraid she is rather,' he answered. 'I'll come in again this evening.'
'Oh, doctor,' said Mrs. Kemp, as he was going, 'could yer give me somethin' for my rheumatics? I'm a martyr to rheumatism, an' these cold days I 'ardly knows wot ter do with myself. An', doctor, could you let me 'ave some beef-tea? My 'usbind's dead, an' of course I can't do no work with my daughter ill like this, an' we're very short--.'
The day passed, and in the evening Mrs. Hodges, who had been attending to her own domestic duties, came downstairs again. Mrs. Kemp was on the bed sleeping.

'I was just 'avin' a little nap,' she said to Mrs. Hodges, on waking.
''Ow is the girl?' asked that lady.
'Oh,' answered Mrs. Kemp, 'my rheumatics 'as been thet bad I really 'aven't known wot ter do with myself, an' now Liza can't rub me I'm worse than ever. It is unfortunate thet she should get ill just now when I want so much attendin' ter myself, but there, it's just my luck!'
Mrs. Hodges went over and looked at Liza; she was lying just as when she left in the morning, her cheeks flushed, her mouth open for breath, and tiny beads of sweat stood on her forehead.
''Ow are yer, ducky?' asked Mrs. Hodges; but Liza did not answer.

'It's my belief she's unconscious,' said Mrs. Kemp. 'I've been askin' 'er 'oo it was as done it, but she don't seem to 'ear wot I say. It's been a great shock ter me, Mrs. 'Odges.'
'I believe you,' replied that lady, sympathetically.
'Well, when you come in and said wot it was, yer might 'ave knocked me dahn with a feather. I knew no more than the dead wot 'ad 'appened.'
'I saw at once wot it was,' said Mrs. Hodges, nodding her head.
'Yus, of course, you knew. I expect you've 'ad a great deal of practice one way an' another.'

'You're right, Mrs. Kemp, you're right. I've been on the job now for nearly twenty years, an' if I don't know somethin' abaht it I ought.'
'D'yer finds it pays well?'
'Well, Mrs. Kemp, tike it all in all, I ain't got no grounds for complaint. I'm in the 'abit of askin' five shillings, an' I will say this, I don't think it's too much for wot I do.'
The news of Liza's illness had quickly spread, and more than once in the course of the day a neighbour had come to ask after her. There was a knock at the door now, and Mrs. Hodges opened it. Tom stood on the threshold asking to come in.

'Yus, you can come,' said Mrs. Kemp.
He advanced on tiptoe, so as to make no noise, and for a while stood silently looking at Liza. Mrs. Hodges was by his side.
'Can I speak to 'er?' he whispered.
'She can't 'ear you.'
He groaned.
'D'yer think she'll get arright?' he asked.
Mrs. Hodges shrugged her shoulders.
'I shouldn't like ter give an opinion,' she said, cautiously.

Tom bent over Liza, and, blushing, kissed her; then, without speaking further, went out of the room.
'Thet's the young man as was courtin' 'er,' said Mrs. Kemp, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb.
Soon after the Doctor came.
'Wot do yer think of 'er, doctor?' said Mrs. Hodges, bustling forwards authoritatively in her position of midwife and sick-nurse.
'I'm afraid she's very bad.'
'D'yer think she's goin' ter die?' she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.
'I'm afraid so!'
As the doctor sat down by Liza's side Mrs. Hodges turned round and significantly nodded to Mrs. Kemp, who put her handkerchief to her eyes. Then she went outside to the little group waiting at the door.
'Wot does the doctor sy?' they asked, among them Tom.
''E says just wot I've been sayin' all along; I knew she wouldn't live.'

And Tom burst out: 'Oh, Liza!'
As she retired a woman remarked:
'Mrs. 'Odges is very clever, I think.'
'Yus,' remarked another, 'she got me through my last confinement simply wonderful. If it come to choosin' between 'em I'd back Mrs. 'Odges against forty doctors.'
'Ter tell yer the truth, so would I. I've never known 'er wrong yet.'
Mrs. Hodges sat down beside Mrs. Kemp and proceeded to comfort her.

'Why don't yer tike a little drop of brandy ter calm yer nerves, Mrs. Kemp?' she said, 'you want it.'
'I was just feelin' rather faint, an' I couldn't 'elp thinkin' as 'ow twopenneth of whisky 'ud do me good.'
'Na, Mrs. Kemp,' said Mrs. Hodges, earnestly, putting her hand on the other's arm. 'You tike my tip--when you're queer there's nothin' like brandy for pullin' yer togither. I don't object to whisky myself, but as a medicine yer can't beat brandy.'
'Well, I won't set up myself as knowin' better than you Mrs. 'Odges; I'll do wot you think right.'
Quite accidentally there was some in the room, and Mrs. Kemp poured it out for herself and her friend.

'I'm not in the 'abit of tikin' anythin' when I'm aht on business,' she apologized, 'but just ter keep you company I don't mind if I do.'
'Your 'ealth. Mrs. 'Odges.'
'Sime ter you, an' thank yer, Mrs. Kemp.'
Liza lay still, breathing very quietly, her eyes closed. The doctor kept his fingers on her pulse.
'I've been very unfortunate of lite,' remarked Mrs. Hodges, as she licked her lips, 'this mikes the second death I've 'ad in the last ten days--women, I mean, of course I don't count bibies.'
'Yer don't sy so.'
'Of course the other one--well, she was only a prostitute, so it didn't so much matter. It ain't like another woman is it?'
'Na, you're right.'
'Still, one don't like 'em ter die, even if they are thet. One mustn't be too 'ard on 'em.'
'Strikes me you've got a very kind 'eart, Mrs. 'Odges,' said Mrs. Kemp.

'I 'ave thet; an' I often says it 'ud be better for my peace of mind an' my business if I 'adn't. I 'ave ter go through a lot, I do; but I can say this for myself, I always gives satisfaction, an' thet's somethin' as all lidies in my line can't say.'
They sipped their brandy for a while.
'It's a great trial ter me that this should 'ave 'appened,' said Mrs. Kemp, coming to the subject that had been disturbing her for some time. 'Mine's always been a very respectable family, an' such a thing as this 'as never 'appened before. No, Mrs. 'Odges, I was lawfully married in church, an' I've got my marriage lines now ter show I was, an' thet one of my daughters should 'ave gone wrong in this way--well, I can't understand it. I give 'er a good education, an' she 'ad all the comforts of a 'ome. She never wanted for nothin'; I worked myself to the bone ter keep 'er in luxury, an' then thet she should go an' disgrace me like this!'
'I understand wot yer mean. Mrs. Kemp.'

'I can tell you my family was very respectable; an' my 'usband, 'e earned twenty-five shillings a week, an' was in the sime plice seventeen years; an' 'is employers sent a beautiful wreath ter put on 'is coffin; an' they tell me they never 'ad such a good workman an' sich an 'onest man before. An' me! Well, I can sy this--I've done my duty by the girl, an' she's never learnt anythin' but good from me. Of course I ain't always been in wot yer might call flourishing circumstances, but I've always set her a good example, as she could tell yer so 'erself if she wasn't speechless.'
Mrs. Kemp paused for a moment's reflection.
'As they sy in the Bible,' she finished, 'it's enough ter mike one's grey 'airs go dahn into the ground in sorrer. I can show yer my marriage certificate. Of course one doesn't like ter say much, because of course she's very bad; but if she got well I should 'ave given 'er a talkin' ter.'
There was another knock.

'Do go an' see 'oo thet is; I can't, on account of my rheumatics.'
Mrs. Hodges opened the door. It was Jim.
He was very white, and the blackness of his hair and beard, contrasting with the deathly pallor of his face, made him look ghastly. Mrs. Hodges stepped back.
''Oo's 'e?' she said, turning to Mrs. Kemp.
Jim pushed her aside and went up to the bed.

'Doctor, is she very bad?' he asked.
The doctor looked at him questioningly.
Jim whispered: 'It was me as done it. She ain't goin' ter die, is she?'
The doctor nodded.
'O God! wot shall I do? It was my fault! I wish I was dead!'
Jim took the girl's head in his hands, and the tears burst from his eyes.
'She ain't dead yet, is she?'
'She's just living,' said the doctor.
Jim bent down.
'Liza, Liza, speak ter me! Liza, say you forgive me! Oh, speak ter me!'
His voice was full of agony. The doctor spoke.
'She can't hear you.'
'Oh, she must hear me! Liza! Liza!'
He sank on his knees by the bedside.

They all remained silent: Liza lying stiller than ever, her breast unmoved by the feeble respiration, Jim looking at her very mournfully; the doctor grave, with his fingers on the pulse. The two women looked at Jim.
'Fancy it bein' 'im!' said Mrs. Kemp. 'Strike me lucky, ain't 'e a sight!'
'You 'ave got 'er insured, Mrs. Kemp?' asked the midwife. She could bear the silence no longer.
'Trust me fur thet!' replied the good lady. 'I've 'ad 'er insured ever since she was born. Why, only the other dy I was sayin' ter myself thet all thet money 'ad been wisted, but you see it wasn't; yer never know yer luck, you see!'

'Quite right, Mrs. Kemp; I'm a rare one for insurin'. It's a great thing. I've always insured all my children.'
'The way I look on it is this,' said Mrs. Kemp--'wotever yer do when they're alive, an' we all know as children is very tryin' sometimes, you should give them a good funeral when they dies. Thet's my motto, an' I've always acted up to it.'
'Do you deal with Mr. Stearman?' asked Mrs. Hodges.
'No, Mrs. 'Odges, for undertikin' give me Mr. Footley every time. In the black line 'e's fust an' the rest nowhere!'
'Well, thet's very strange now--thet's just wot I think. Mr. Footley does 'is work well, an' 'e's very reasonable. I'm a very old customer of 'is, an' 'e lets me 'ave things as cheap as anybody.'
'Does 'e indeed! Well Mrs. 'Odges if it ain't askin' too much of yer, I should look upon it as very kind if you'd go an' mike the arrangements for Liza.'

'Why, certainly, Mrs. Kemp. I'm always willin' ter do a good turn to anybody, if I can.'
'I want it done very respectable,' said Mrs. Kemp; 'I'm not goin' ter stint for nothin' for my daughter's funeral. I like plumes, you know, although they is a bit extra.'
'Never you fear, Mrs. Kemp, it shall be done as well as if it was for my own 'usbind, an' I can't say more than thet. Mr. Footley thinks a deal of me, 'e does! Why, only the other dy as I was goin' inter 'is shop 'e says "Good mornin', Mrs. 'Odges." "Good mornin', Mr. Footley," says I. "You've jest come in the nick of time," says 'e. "This gentleman an' myself," pointin' to another gentleman as was standin' there, "we was 'avin' a bit of an argument. Now you're a very intelligent woman, Mrs. 'Odges, and a good customer too." "I can say thet for myself," say I, "I gives yer all the work I can." "I believe you," says 'e. "Well," 'e says, "now which do you think? Does hoak look better than helm, or does helm look better than hoak? Hoak _versus_ helm, thet's the question." "Well, Mr. Footley," says I, "for my own private opinion, when you've got a nice brass plite in the middle, an' nice brass 'andles each end, there's nothin' like hoak." "Quite right," says 'e, "thet's wot I think; for coffins give me hoak any day, an' I 'ope," says 'e, "when the Lord sees fit ter call me to 'Imself, I shall be put in a hoak coffin myself." "Amen," says I.'

'I like hoak,' said Mrs. Kemp. 'My poor 'usband 'e 'ad a hoak coffin. We did 'ave a job with 'im, I can tell yer. You know 'e 'ad dropsy, an' 'e swell up--oh, 'e did swell; 'is own mother wouldn't 'ave known 'im. Why, 'is leg swell up till it was as big round as 'is body, swop me bob, it did.'
'Did it indeed!' ejaculated Mrs. Hodges.
'Yus, an' when 'e died they sent the coffin up. I didn't 'ave Mr. Footley at thet time; we didn't live 'ere then, we lived in Battersea, an' all our undertikin' was done by Mr. Brownin'; well, 'e sent the coffin up, an' we got my old man in, but we couldn't get the lid down, he was so swell up. Well, Mr. Brownin', 'e was a great big man, thirteen stone if 'e was a ounce. Well, 'e stood on the coffin, an' a young man 'e 'ad with 'im stood on it too, an' the lid simply wouldn't go dahn; so Mr. Browning', 'e said, "Jump on, missus," so I was in my widow's weeds, yer know, but we 'ad ter git it dahn, so I stood on it, an' we all jumped, an' at last we got it to, an' screwed it; but, lor', we did 'ave a job; I shall never forget it.'

Then all was silence. And a heaviness seemed to fill the air like a grey blight, cold and suffocating; and the heaviness was Death. They felt the presence in the room, and they dared not move, they dared not draw their breath. The silence was terrifying.
Suddenly a sound was heard--a loud rattle. It was from the bed and rang through the room, piercing the stillness.
The doctor opened one of Liza's eyes and touched it, then he laid on her breast the hand he had been holding, and drew the sheet over her head.
Jim turned away with a look of intense weariness on his face, and the two women began weeping silently. The darkness was sinking before the day, and a dim, grey light came through the window. The lamp spluttered out.

半夜光景丽莎醒来，嘴里又热又干，头稍一移动就是刀劈一般的一阵剧痛。
她母亲当然也醒了，因为她和她同睡一张床，就在她身旁。她衣服也没有穿好，把被褥都裹在身上。
丽莎在这寒冷的夜里瑟瑟发抖，她是脱捧了一部分衣裳——鞋子、裙子和外套——上床的。她想从她母亲那里把毯子拉过来些，可是她一拉，肯普太太就在睡梦中号叫，把被褥裹得更紧。所以丽莎把她搁在床背上的裙子和一条披巾拖来盖在身上，想能够睡去。
但是她睡不着。她的头和手都沸烫，嘴里干得要命。她自己撑起来喝一口水的时候，头痛得倒下身子尽是哼哼地呻吟，躺在那儿心跳得厉害。一阵阵她从没有经受过的异样的疼痛侵袭着她。

然后她骨髓中发出一阵寒冷的颤抖，直透入每根血管，仿佛使血液都凝冻了。她的皮肤皱了起来，她蜷起双腿，缩成一团，紧紧裹着披巾，牙齿格格地打战。她颤抖着用微弱的声音说——
“噢，我好冷，好冷啊！妈，给我盖一点，我要冷死了。呵．我冻死了！”

但是过了一阵这寒冷似乎过去了，接下来突然一阵火热，脸上烧得通红，一身大汗，热得她把盖着的东西全都掀掉，把头颈里裹着的也都松开。
“我口渴呀，”她说。“噢，要我怎么都行，给我一点水啊！”
没有人听到她。肯普太太又睡熟了，不时发出一声鼾声。
丽莎躺在那儿，一忽儿冷得发抖，一忽儿喘不过气，耳朵边只听得身旁那均匀而粗重的呼吸。她在痛苦中呜咽。
她用力拉拉枕头，说道一一
“为什么我睡不着？为什么我不能象她那样睡着呢？”

这里黑暗得可怕l这种黑暗沉重而阴森，似乎用手可以摸得到，她十分恐惧I全凭远处的路灯透过窗口照来微弱的光芒，使她稍微心宽一些。
她觉得这黑夜将永无终止——每一分钟都象是一个小时，她不知将如何挨到天明。
又是一阵她没有经受过的异样的疼痛。
夜依然，黑暗依然，又冷又可怕I她母亲在她身旁大声而着实地打呼。
终于随着早晨的来到，睡眠也来到了。但是这睡眠几乎比醒着更糟糕．因为它带来可憎可怕的噩梦。

丽莎在梦中和她的敌人打架，布莱克斯顿太太越来越高大，而且一个化了几个，她转向哪一面都正对着她。她逃了，她奔着奔着，后来又算起一笔早上没算清的帐目来。她从前面加到后面，上面加到下面．这儿加起，那儿加起，这些数字总跟其他东西混在一起．她得从头再箅，越算越糊涂，她头脑打转，直到最后一声惊叫，醒来了。
黑暗已经让位给一个寒冷、阴黯的黎明。她那两条一点没盖什么的腿冻得冷到骨髓里，她又听到她身旁那泥醉的妈妈均匀的鼻息。
她就这样躺了好一段时间，觉得身体很不舒服，很难过，不过比夜里好些。
她母亲终于醒了。

“丽莎！”她叫道。
“唉，妈妈，”她没力气地回答。
“弄杯茶给我，好吗？”
“我不能动，妈，我病着。”
“噢！”肯普太太惊异地说。再朝她看看，“唷，你怎么啦？怎么，你面孔通红，额角上——烫得厉害！你怎么啦，我的女儿？”
“我不知道，”丽莎说。“我整夜难过得不得了，总当要死了。”
“我懂了，”肯普太太摇摇头说，“问题是你没喝惯酒，所以喝了一点自然吃不消了。瞧我，我这生龙活虎的样子。相信我的话，忌酒没有好处，这回就叫你看颜色啦，叫你看颜色。”

肯普太太把这看作是上帝的惩罚。
她站起身来，配了些冲水的威士忌。
“喏，喝这个，”她说，“碰到夜里喝得太多了一点的时候，最好是第二天早上再喝一点醒醒酒。这有魔术般的效力。”
“拿开，”丽莎说，厌恶地掉转头；“我闻到这气味就难过。我永世也不再碰烈酒。”
“啊，我们一生中有时候都这么说，不过我们喝还是喝．而且非喝不可。啊呀，我这艰难辛苦的一生——”这里无需去重复肯普太太重复的话。
丽莎整天没有起床。

汤姆来看望她，知道她病得厉害。丽莎哀伤地问，有没有别人来看过她，她母亲对她说“没有”，她听了微微叹息。但是她感觉很难过，对任何事情都不想多费心思。
到渐近夜晚的时候，寒热又上升了，她的头痛也更加厉害。她母亲上床来，很快就睡着了，由丽莎一个人去忍受苦难。
直到清晨六点钟左右，她终究再也忍受不住了，一阵分娩的阵痛使她尖声急叫起来，惊醒了她母亲。
肯普太太吓得不知所措。她赶上楼去，叫醒了住在她们楼上的那个女人。这位善良的老太太毫不犹豫，穿上一条裙子，就下楼来了。
“她小产了，”她看了看丽莎说。“你能叫个人到医院去请医生吗？”

“不，这个时候我找谁去呢？”．
“好吧，我叫我老头儿去跑一趟。”
她叫了她丈夫，差他去了。她是个结实的中年妇女，浓眉大眼，臂膀粗粗的。她叫霍奇斯太太。
“幸亏你来找了我．”她坐定下来后说。“我在外面当看护，所以这些我都懂。”
“不过，你使我大吃一惊，”肯普太太说，“我一点不知道她有身子了。她从没有对我讲起过。”
“你可知道是谁跟她有了的？”
“你问的问题我一无所知，’’肯普太太答道。“不过，我现在想想，一定是汤姆。他常和丽莎在一起。他是单身汉，所以他们可以结婚——倒还好。”
“不是汤姆，’’丽莎微弱的声音说。

“不是他，那么是谁呢？”
丽莎不答话。
“嗯？”她妈重复问，“是谁呢？”
丽莎一动不动躺在那儿，不吭一声。
“别管它，肯普太太，”霍奇斯太太说，“现在不要去烦扰她。等她好一点，你什么都会弄明白的。”
这两个女人默默地坐着，等待医生到来。丽莎气喘吁吁地躺着，两只眼睛空望着墙上。有时候吉姆在她心头闪过，她张开嘴巴想要叫唤他，但在绝望之中又没有叫出声来。

医生来了。
“你看她情况严重吗，医生？”霍奇斯太太问。
“恐怕很严重，”他回答。“我晚上再来。”
“啊，医生，”他要走的时候，肯普太太对他说，“你能给我些治风湿的药吗？我的风湿要我的命，现在冷天，我简直不知怎么过。另外，医生，你能给我些牛肉汁吗？我丈夫死了，我女儿病成这样子，我当然没法出去干活，所以我们实在短缺——”
白天过去了，晚上，霍奇斯太太忙了一天自己的家务，又下楼来了。肯普太太在床上睡着。
“我正在稍微打个瞌睡，”她醒来对霍奇斯太太说。

“你女儿怎么样？”那个太太问。
“哦，”肯普太太回答，“我的风湿发得那么厉害，我痛得简直毫无办法，而现在丽莎又不能替我擦药，那就更糟。真不巧，正在我需要照顾自己的时候，她生病了。不过，这也是我自己运气不好！”
霍奇斯太太走到丽莎跟前看看她。她就象早上离开她时候一样地躺着，两颊通红，嘴巴张着喘气，额头上尽是一颗颗小小的汗珠。
“你怎么样，宝贝？”霍奇斯太太问，但是丽莎没有回答。
“我看她没有知觉了，”肯普太太说。“我再三问她是谁跟她搞了的，可她似乎听不见我说的话。这件事对我的震动可大呀，霍奇斯太太。”
“我相信你．”那个太太同情地说。
“唉，当你来对我说这是怎么回事的时候，你只要拿根羽毛准能把我拨倒。我原来对这事情象死人一样，一无所知。’’
“我一看就知道是这么回事了，”霍奇斯太太点点头说。

“是呀，你当然懂得。我想你在这方面有丰富的工作经验。”
“你说得对，肯普太太，你说得对。我做这工作，到现在快有二十年了，不懂也该懂了。”
“你觉得这行当收入不错吧？”
“嗯，肯普太太，总的说来，我觉得还可以。我一般是收费五先令．我该说，我做的工作，要这一点不算太多。”
丽莎害病的消息很快传布开去了，于是一天里面邻人来看望她的不止一个、两个。
此刻有人敲门，霍奇斯太太去开了门。
汤姆站在门口，要求进来。
“好，你进来，”肯普太太说。
他蹑手蹑脚地走过来，默默站在那儿望着丽莎。霍奇斯太太在他旁边。
“我可以对她说话吗？”他轻声说。

“她听不见你。”
他叹息了一声。
“你看她会好吗？”他问。
霍奇斯太太耸耸肩膀。
“我不敢说．”她谨慎地说。
汤姆俯下身子，涨红了脸，吻了她一下,然后没再说一句话，就离开了这屋子。
“那就是追求她的那个小伙子，”肯普太太说，用大拇指指着背后离去的汤姆。
不多一刻，医生来了。

“你看她怎么样，医生？”霍奇斯太太以催生婆和看护的身份神气十足地匆忙上前，问他。
“恐怕情况很不好。”
“你看她会死吗？”她压低声音在他耳朵边问。
“靠不住！”
医生在丽莎旁边坐下的时候，霍奇斯太太转身对肯普太太有所暗示地点点头，肯普太太用手帕擦眼睛。
然后霍奇斯太太走出屋子，来到在门口等待着的一些人跟前。

“医生怎么说？”他们问，其中有汤姆。
“他说的就是我早就说的，我早知道她活不成了。”
汤姆突然放声大叫，“啊，丽莎！”
霍奇斯太太回进屋里，有个女人评论说——
“我认为霍奇斯太太实在聪明。”
“是啊，”另一个女人评论说，“上一回她给我催生，简直高明极了。如果要我作选择的话，我宁可要霍奇斯太太，而不要四十个医生。”
“老实说，我也宁可要她。我从来没有听到她出过毛病。”

霍奇斯太太在肯普太太旁边坐下，开始安慰她。
“你为什么不喝一点白兰地镇定镇定神经呢，肯普太太？”她说：“你需要喝一点。”
“我真有点要昏过去了，不禁想喝两便士威士忌提提神。”
“不，肯普太太，”霍奇斯太太把手按在这个太太的臂膀上，认真地说。“你听我的话——你觉得不舒服的时候，白兰地最能使你振作起来。我自己并不反对威士忌，不过当药吃的话，却远不如白兰地。”
“我不会以为自己比你在行，霍奇斯太太；你认为怎样对，我都照着做。’’
碰巧家里有点白兰地，肯普太太就倒出来给她自己和她的朋友喝。

“我出外工作的时候，是习惯不喝酒的，”她表示抱歉，“不过，为了陪陪你，喝一口也可以。”
“祝你健康，霍奇斯太太。‘‘
“你也健康，谢谢你，肯普太太。”
丽莎一动不动地躺着，呼吸很微弱，眼睛闭着。医生一直把指头按在她脉搏上。
“我最近运气非常不好，’’霍奇斯太太舔舔嘴唇说，“这是我这十天里碰到的第二个要死的人——我是指女人；当然婴孩不算在内。”
“是吗？”
“还有一个死掉的——不过，那是个妓女，所以无所谓。这同其他女人不一样，是不是？”
“不一样，你说得对。’’

“然而我们总不希望她们死掉，即使是妓女。我们决不能对她们太冷酷。”
“我发现你良心真好，霍奇斯太太，’’肯普太太说。
“我的心是好；我常说，我要是没有这颗良心，还好心安理得地多做点生意哩。我什么都得承担，的确，但是我可以自己夸口说一句，我总干得叫人满意，这可不是干我们这一行的人都能说得的。”
她们喝了一会白兰地。
“这种事情会发生，真是对我沉重的折磨，”肯普太太说，话头讲到了她困恼已久的问题上。

“我们家一向很体面的，从没有出过这种事。不，霍奇斯太太，我是在教堂里合法地结婚的，我现在还拿得出结婚证书来给你看，而在我的女儿中间会有一个出这样的毛病——唉，我没法理解。我给她受过好好的教育，她又有一切家庭的安乐。她什么也不缺少。我做死做活给她吃得好，穿得好，而她竟做出这样丢人的事来！”
“我懂得你的意思，肯普太太。”
“我可以告诉你，我的家庭是很体面的；我丈夫，他一星期挣二十五先令，而且在同一个地方做了十七年；他的老板还在他棺材上安上了一个漂亮的花圈；他们对我说，他们从来不曾有过象他这样好的工人、这样老实的人。

“而我呢！唉，我可以这样说——我对这个姑娘是尽到了我的责任，我从没有教坏她什么。当然我的境况并不一直是你们所说的那样兴旺，可是我始终给她做出好榜样。要不是她现在不会开口，你可以自己问她。”
肯普太太停顿下来，思考了一会儿。
“《圣经》上说的，”她末了说，“带着灰白的头发含悲埋在地下是足够的了。注 我现在还可以拿出结婚证书给你看。当然她病很重，我不能多说什么，然而如果她好了的话．我要好好训她一顿。”
又有人敲门。
“去看看是谁I我不能动，由于我的风湿。”
霍奇斯太太去开了门。来的是吉姆。
他脸色惨白异常，他的漆黑的头发和胡子和他死人般苍白的脸，相映之下显得阴森可怕。霍奇斯太太后退了一步。

“他是谁？”她转身问肯普太太。
吉姆把她推开，直走到床前。
“医生，她很不好吗？”他问。
医生疑惑地朝他看看。
吉姆低声说，“是我跟她有了的。她不会死吧，会不会死?"
医生点点头。
“啊，上帝！教我怎么办？这是我的罪过！我但愿一死！’’
吉姆双手捧住姑娘的头，眼泪直淌下来。
“她还没有死吧？”
“她还有口气，”医生说。
吉姆俯下身子。
“丽莎，丽莎．对我说话呀！丽莎，你饶恕我！哦，对我说话呀！”
他的声音十分凄惨。
医生说——
“她听不见你。”
“哦．她一定得听见我！丽莎！丽莎！”
他在她床前跪倒了下来。

他们全都默不作声：丽莎更沉静地躺着，呼吸微弱得胸口也不动，吉姆悲痛万分地端详着她；医生沉重地把手指按在她脉搏上。那两个女人望着吉姆。
“想不到是他！”肯普太太说。“我觉得也是运气，他多英俊！”
“你给她保了险吗，肯普太太？’’那催生婆问。她再也受不了这沉默了。
“这还用问我！”这位好太太说。“她一生下来，我就给她保好险了。是啊，前几天我还在想，这种钱都是白费的，可你瞧，并不白费；一个人的命运自己也不知道！”
“对呀，肯普太太；我特别相信保险。保险是大好事。我给我所有的孩子都保上险。”

“我是这样想的，”肯普太太说，“不管他们活着的时候你怎样对待他们——我们都知道，孩子有时候是非常讨厌的——但是他们死了，丧葬必须给他们好好办。这是我的格言，我一直都遵守的。”
“你交托给史蒂曼先生办的吗？”霍奇斯太太问。
“不，霍奇斯太太，丧葬的事我每次都找福特利先生。在这个行业中，他是首屈一指，别人都望尘莫及的！”
“咦，这可真奇怪——你的想法和我正好完全一样。福特利先生生活做得好，收费又公道。我真正是他的老主顾了，他总给我最便宜的价钱。”
“真的吗！那末，霍奇斯太太，如果他对你不会敲竹杠的话，我想麻烦你，请你去跟他安排一下丽莎的事。’’
“好哇，没问题，肯普太太。只要我能够，我总是乐于帮人做好事的。”
“我要把这事情办得很体面，’’肯普太太说。“我为女儿办丧葬，决不吝啬，你知道，我要排场，虽然那是有点多余的。”
“不用担心，肯普太太，我一定使它办得象给我自己丈夫办丧葬一样，我话都说完了。

“福特利先生很看得起我，的确！就在几天前，我到他店里去，他说，．霍奇斯太太，早上好。’我说，‘福特利先生，早上好。’
“．你来得正好”他说。‘这位先生和我，’他指着站在旁边的另一位先生，．我们正在争论一个问题。喏，你是个有见识的女人，霍奇斯太太，而且又是我的老主顾。’
“-这倒可以自己称得”我说，‘我有生意总是尽量拉来给你做的。’
“．我相信你是的”他说。‘喂，’他说，‘现在请你说说看：
“．棺材的材料是栎木比榆木好呢，还是榆木比栎木好？栎木还是榆木，就是这么个问题。’

“‘哦，福特利先生，’我说，‘我个人的意见，如果你在棺材面上中央用黄铜镶嵌，两头各装黄铜把儿，那就没有比栎木更好的了。’
“‘对啊，’他说，‘这就是我的想法。讲到棺材，最好永远给我栎木的，而且我希望，’他说，‘到上帝想到要召我回到他身边的时候，我自己将被放进一口栎木的棺材。，
“‘阿门，’我说。”
“我喜欢栎木，”肯普太太说。“我那可怜的丈夫，他用的就是栎木棺材。我们放他进去可费劲哪，我可以告诉你，你知道，他有水肿病，周身浮肿——啊，肿得不得了，肿得他亲娘也认不得他。

呃，他的腿肿得同他身体一样粗，一点不假。”
“当真！”霍奇斯太太叫起来。
“是的，他一死，棺材送来了。当时我还没有跟福特利先生有往来关系。那个时候我们不住在这里，我们住在巴特西，所有丧葬的事情都由布朗宁先生办。就这样，布朗宁先生把棺材送来了，我们把我的老头儿放了进去，可是我们盖不上盖子，他肿得太厉害了。
“正好布朗宁先生又高又大，足足有一百八九十磅。他站到了棺材盖上，他带来的一个小伙子也站了上去，但盖子就是盖不下去。于是布朗宁先生说——
“‘跳上来，太太，’他说；我穿着寡妇的丧服，你知道，可是我们总得把盖子盖上，所以我也站了上去，我们大家一起跳，这才终于盖好，旋上螺钉。不过，天哪，我们可费劲哪；我永远忘不了。”
接着，一片寂静。空气沉重得仿佛充塞着灰色的瘟疫，阴冷而令人窒息；这沉重的就是死亡。他们感觉到它来到了这屋子里，他们不敢动，他们不敢透气。寂静使人毛骨悚然。

突然响起一个声音——一阵大声的哮吼。它从床上发出来，震动整个房间，打破了沉寂。
医生揭开丽莎的一只眼睛，碰碰它，然后把他一直握着的她那只手按在她胸口上，拉起床单，遮没了她的头。
吉姆脸上带着极度疲惫的神色转身离去。两个女人开始悄悄地呜咽起来。
黑暗在黎明前渐渐消散，一道熹微的灰白光芒从窗口投射进来。灯火毕毕剥剥爆响着熄灭了。