[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版- 第12部分

“No；　I　don’t　think　it’s　got　anything　to　do　with　the　Elizabethans。　
There！　Didn’t　you　hear　them　say；　‘Insurance　Bill’？”　

“I　wonder　why　men　always　talk　about　politics？”　Mary　
speculated。　“I　suppose；　if　we　had　votes；　we　should；　too。”　

“I　dare　say　we　should。　And　you　spend　your　life　in　getting　
us　votes；　don’t　you？”　

“I　do；”　said　Mary；　stoutly。　“From　ten　to　six　every　day　
I’m　at　it。”　

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Katharine　looked　at　Ralph　Denham；　who　was　now　pounding　
his　way　through　the　metaphysics　of　metaphor　with　
Rodney；　and　was　reminded　of　his　talk　that　Sunday　afternoon。　
She　connected　him　vaguely　with　Mary。　

“I　suppose　you’re　one　of　the　people　who　think　we　should　
all　have　professions；”　she　said；　rather　distantly；　as　if　feeling　
her　way　among　the　phantoms　of　an　unknown　world。　

“Oh　dear　no；”　said　Mary　at　once。　

“Well；　I　think　I　do；”　Katharine　continued；　with　half　a　
sigh。　“You　will　always　be　able　to　say　that　you’ve　done　
something；　whereas；　in　a　crowd　like　this；　I　feel　rather　
melancholy。”　

“In　a　crowd？　Why　in　a　crowd？”　Mary　asked；　deepening　
the　two　lines　between　her　eyes；　and　hoisting　herself　nearer　
to　Katharine　upon　the　windowsill。　

“Don’t　you　see　how　many　different　things　these　people　
care　about？　And　I　want　to　beat　them　down—I　only　mean；”　
she　corrected　herself；　“that　I　want　to　assert　myself；　and　
it’s　difficult；　if　one　hasn’t　a　profession。”　

Mary　smiled；　thinking　that　to　beat　people　down　was　a　
process　that　should　present　no　difficulty　to　Miss　Katharine　

Hilbery。　They　knew　each　other　so　slightly　that　the　beginning　
of　intimacy；　which　Katharine　seemed　to　initiate　by　
talking　about　herself；　had　something　solemn　in　it；　and　
they　were　silent；　as　if　to　decide　whether　to　proceed　or　
not。　They　tested　the　ground。　

“Ah；　but　I　want　to　trample　upon　their　prostrate　bodies！”　
Katharine　announced；　a　moment　later；　with　a　laugh；　
as　if　at　the　train　of　thought　which　had　led　her　to　this　
conclusion。　

“One　doesn’t　necessarily　trample　upon　people’s　bodies　
because　one　runs　an　office；”　Mary　remarked。　

“No。　Perhaps　not；”　Katharine　replied。　The　conversation　
lapsed；　and　Mary　saw　Katharine　looking　out　into　the　room　
rather　moodily　with　closed　lips；　the　desire　to　talk　about　
herself　or　to　initiate　a　friendship　having；　apparently；　left　
her。　Mary　was　struck　by　her　capacity　for　being　thus　easily　
silent；　and　occupied　with　her　own　thoughts。　It　was　a　
habit　that　spoke　of　loneliness　and　a　mind　thinking　for　
itself。　When　Katharine　remained　silent　Mary　was　slightly　
embarrassed。　

“Yes；　they’re　very　like　sheep；”　she　repeated；　foolishly。　

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“And　yet　they　are　very　clever—at　least；”　Katharine　
added；　“I　suppose　they　have　all　read　Webster。”　

“Surely　you　don’t　think　that　a　proof　of　cleverness？　I’ve　
read　Webster；　I’ve　read　Ben　Jonson；　but　I　don’t　think　
myself　clever—not　exactly；　at　least。”　

“I　think　you　must　be　very　clever；”　Katharine　observed。　

“Why？　Because　I　run　an　office？”　

“I　wasn’t　thinking　of　that。　I　was　thinking　how　you　live　
alone　in　this　room；　and　have　parties。”　

Mary　reflected　for　a　second。　

“It　means；　chiefly；　a　power　of　being　disagreeable　to　
one’s　own　family；　I　think。　I　have　that；　perhaps。　I　didn’t　
want　to　live　at　home；　and　I　told　my　father。　He　didn’t　like　
it…　。　But　then　I　have　a　sister；　and　you　haven’t；　have　
you？”　

“No；　I　haven’t　any　sisters。”　

“You　are　writing　a　life　of　your　grandfather？”　Mary　pursued。　


Katharine　seemed　instantly　to　be　confronted　by　some　
familiar　thought　from　which　she　wished　to　escape。　She　
replied；　“Yes；　I　am　helping　my　mother；”　in　such　a　way　

that　Mary　felt　herself　baffled；　and　put　back　again　into　
the　position　in　which　she　had　been　at　the　beginning　of　
their　talk。　It　seemed　to　her　that　Katharine　possessed　a　
curious　power　of　drawing　near　and　receding；　which　sent　
alternate　emotions　through　her　far　more　quickly　than　was　
usual；　and　kept　her　in　a　condition　of　curious　alertness。　
Desiring　to　classify　her；　Mary　bethought　her　of　the　convenient　
term　“egoist。”　

“She’s　an　egoist；”　she　said　to　herself；　and　stored　that　
word　up　to　give　to　Ralph　one　day　when；　as　it　would　certainly　
fall　out；　they　were　discussing　Miss　Hilbery。　

“Heavens；　what　a　mess　there’ll　be　tomorrow　morning！”　
Katharine　exclaimed。　“I　hope　you　don’t　sleep　in　this　room；　
Miss　Datchet？”　

Mary　laughed。　

“What　are　you　laughing　at？”　Katharine　demanded。　

“I　won’t　tell　you。”　

“Let　me　guess。　You　were　laughing　because　you　thought　
I’d　changed　the　conversation？”　

“No。”　

“Because　you　think—”　She　paused。　

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“If　you　want　to　know；　I　was　laughing　at　the　way　you　
said　Miss　Datchet。”　

“Mary；　then。　Mary；　Mary；　Mary。”　

So　saying；　Katharine　drew　back　the　curtain　in　order；　
perhaps；　to　conceal　the　momentary　flush　of　pleasure　
which　is　caused　by　ing　perceptibly　nearer　to　another　
person。　

“Mary　Datchet；”　said　Mary。　“It’s　not　such　an　imposing　
name　as　Katharine　Hilbery；　I’m　afraid。”　

They　both　looked　out　of　the　window；　first　up　at　the　
hard　silver　moon；　stationary　among　a　hurry　of　little　grey
blue　clouds；　and　then　down　upon　the　roofs　of　London；　
with　all　their　upright　chimneys；　and　then　below　them　at　
the　empty　moonlit　pavement　of　the　street；　upon　which　
the　joint　of　each　pavingstone　was　clearly　marked　out。　
Mary　then　saw　Katharine　raise　her　eyes　again　to　the　moon；　
with　a　contemplative　look　in　them；　as　though　she　were　
setting　that　moon　against　the　moon　of　other　nights；　held　
in　memory。　Some　one　in　the　room　behind　them　made　a　
joke　about　stargazing；　which　destroyed　their　pleasure　in　
it；　and　they　looked　back　into　the　room　again。　

Ralph　had　been　watching　for　this　moment；　and　he　instantly　
produced　his　sentence。　

“I　wonder；　Miss　Hilbery；　whether　you　remembered　to　
get　that　picture　glazed？”　His　voice　showed　that　the　question　
was　one　that　had　been　prepared。　

“Oh；　you　idiot！”　Mary　exclaimed；　very　nearly　aloud；　with　
a　sense　that　Ralph　had　said　something　very　stupid。　So；　
after　three　lessons　in　Latin　grammar；　one　might　correct　a　
fellow　student；　whose　knowledge　did　not　embrace　the　
ablative　of　“mensa。”　

“Picture—what　picture？”　Katharine　asked。　“Oh；　at　home；　
you　mean—that　Sunday　afternoon。　Was　it　the　day　Mr。　
Fortescue　came？　Yes；　I　think　I　remembered　it。”　

The　three　of　them　stood　for　a　moment　awkwardly　silent；　
and　then　Mary　left　them　in　order　to　see　that　the　
great　pitcher　of　coffee　was　properly　handled；　for　beneath　
all　her　education　she　preserved　the　anxieties　of　one　who　
owns　china。　

Ralph　could　think　of　nothing　further　to　say；　but　could　
one　have　stripped　off　his　mask　of　flesh；　one　would　have　
seen　that　his　willpower　was　rigidly　set　upon　a　single　

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object—that　Miss　Hilbery　should　obey　him。　He　wished　
her　to　stay　there　until；　by　some　measures　not　yet　apparent　
to　him；　he　had　conquered　her　interest。　These　states　
of　mind　transmit　themselves　very　often　without　the　use　
of　language；　and　it　was　evident　to　Katharine　that　this　
young　man　had　fixed　his　mind　upon　her。　She　instantly　
recalled　her　first　impressions　of　him；　and　saw　herself　again　
proffering　family　relics。　She　reverted　to　the　state　of　mind　
in　which　he　had　left　her　that　Sunday　afternoon。　She　supposed　
that　he　judged　her　very　severely。　She　argued　naturally　
that；　if　this　were　the　case；　the　burden　of　the　conversation　
should　rest　with　him。　But　she　submitted　so　far　as　
to　stand　perfectly　still；　her　eyes　upon　the　opposite　wall；　
and　her　lips　very　nearly　closed；　though　the　desire　to　laugh　
stirred　them　slightly。　

“You　know　the　names　of　the　stars；　I　suppose？”　Denham　
remarked；　and　from　the　tone　of　his　voice　one　might　have　
thought　that　he　grudged　Katharine　the　knowledge　he　attributed　
to　her。　

She　kept　her　voice　steady　with　some　difficulty。　

“I　know　how　to　find　the　Pole　star　if　I’m　lost。”　

“I　don’t　suppose　that　often　happens　to　you。”　

“No。　Nothing　interesting　ever　happens　to　me；”　she　said。　

“I　think　you　make　a　system　of　saying　disagreeable　things；　
Miss　Hilbery；”　he　broke　out；　again　going　further　than　he　
meant　to。　“I　suppose　it’s　one　of　the　characteristics　of　your　
class。　They　never　talk　seriously　to　their　inferiors。”　

Whether　it　was　that　they　were　meeting　on　neutral　ground　
tonight；　or　whether　the　carelessness　of　an　old　grey　coat　
that　Denham　wore　gave　an　ease　to　his　bearing　that　he　
lacked　in　conventional　dress；　Katharine　certainly　felt　no　
impulse　to　consider　him　outside　the　particular　set　in　which　
she　lived。　

“In　what　sense　are　you　my　inferior？”　she　asked；　looking　
at　him　gravely；　as　though　honestly　searching　for　his　meaning。　
The　look　gave　him　great　pleasure。　For　the　first　time　
he　felt　himself　on　perfectly　equal　terms　with　a　woman　
whom　he　wished　to　think　well　of　him；　although　he　could　
not　have　explained　why　her　opinion　of　him　mattered　one　
way　or　another。　Perhaps；　after　all；　he　only　wanted　to　
have　something　of　her　to　take　home　to　think　about。　But　
he　was　not　destined　to　profit　by　his　advantage。　

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