Suddenly his heart stood still. He saw Mildred. He had not thought of her for weeks. She was crossing over from the corner of Shaftesbury Avenue and stopped at the shelter till a string of cabs passed by. She was watching her opportunity and had no eyes for anything else. She wore a large black straw hat with a mass of feathers on it and a black silk dress; at that time it was fashionable for women to wear trains; the road was clear, and Mildred crossed, her skirt trailing on the ground, and walked down Piccadilly. Philip, his heart beating excitedly, followed her. He did not wish to speak to her, but he wondered where she was going at that hour; he wanted to get a look at her face. She walked slowly along and turned down Air Street and so got through into Regent Street. She walked up again towards the Circus. Philip was puzzled. He could not make out what she was doing. Perhaps she was waiting for somebody, and he felt a great curiosity to know who it was. She overtook a short man in a bowler2 hat, who was strolling very slowly in the same direction as herself; she gave him a sidelong glance as she passed. She walked a few steps more till she came to Swan and Edgar”s, then stopped and waited, facing the road. When the man came up she smiled. The man stared at her for a moment, turned away his head, and sauntered on. Then Philip understood.
He was overwhelmed with horror. For a moment he felt such a weakness in his legs that he could hardly stand; then he walked after her quickly; he touched her on the arm.
“Mildred.”
She turned round with a violent start. He thought that she reddened, but in the obscurity he could not see very well. For a while they stood and looked at one another without speaking. At last she said:
“Fancy seeing you!”
He did not know what to answer; he was horribly shaken; and the phrases that chased one another through his brain seemed incredibly melodramatic.
“It”s awful,” he gasped3, almost to himself.
She did not say anything more, she turned away from him, and looked down at the pavement. He felt that his face was distorted with misery4.
“Isn”t there anywhere we can go and talk?”
“I don”t want to talk,” she said sullenly5. “Leave me alone, can”t you?”
The thought struck him that perhaps she was in urgent need of money and could not afford to go away at that hour.
“I”ve got a couple of sovereigns on me if you”re hard up,” he blurted6 out.
“I don”t know what you mean. I was just walking along here on my way back to my lodgings7. I expected to meet one of the girls from where I work.”
“For God”s sake don”t lie now,” he said.
Then he saw that she was crying, and he repeated his question.
“Can”t we go and talk somewhere? Can”t I come back to your rooms?”
“No, you can”t do that,” she sobbed8. “I”m not allowed to take gentlemen in there. If you like I”ll met you tomorrow.”
He felt certain that she would not keep an appointment. He was not going to let her go.
“No. You must take me somewhere now.”
“Well, there is a room I know, but they”ll charge six shillings for it.”
“I don”t mind that. Where is it?”
She gave him the address, and he called a cab. They drove to a shabby street beyond the British Museum in the neighbourhood of the Gray”s Inn Road, and she stopped the cab at the corner.
“They don”t like you to drive up to the door,” she said.
They were the first words either of them had spoken since getting into the cab. They walked a few yards and Mildred knocked three times, sharply, at a door. Philip noticed in the fanlight a cardboard on which was an announcement that apartments were to let. The door was opened quietly, and an elderly, tall woman let them in. She gave Philip a stare and then spoke10 to Mildred in an undertone. Mildred led Philip along a passage to a room at the back. It was quite dark; she asked him for a match, and lit the gas; there was no globe, and the gas flared11 shrilly12. Philip saw that he was in a dingy13 little bed-room with a suite14 of furniture, painted to look like pine much too large for it; the lace curtains were very dirty; the grate was hidden by a large paper fan. Mildred sank on the chair which stood by the side of the chimney-piece. Philip sat on the edge of the bed. He felt ashamed. He saw now that Mildred”s cheeks were thick with rouge15, her eyebrows16 were blackened; but she looked thin and ill, and the red on her cheeks exaggerated the greenish pallor of her skin. She stared at the paper fan in a listless fashion. Philip could not think what to say, and he had a choking in his throat as if he were going to cry. He covered his eyes with his hands.
“My God, it is awful,” he groaned17.
“I don”t know what you”ve got to fuss about. I should have thought you”d have been rather pleased.”
Philip did not answer, and in a moment she broke into a sob9.
“You don”t think I do it because I like it, do you?”
“Oh, my dear,” he cried. “I”m so sorry, I”m so awfully18 sorry.”
“That”ll do me a fat lot of good.”
Again Philip found nothing to say. He was desperately19 afraid of saying anything which she might take for a reproach or a sneer20.
“Where”s the baby?” he asked at last.
“I”ve got her with me in London. I hadn”t got the money to keep her on at Brighton, so I had to take her. I”ve got a room up Highbury way. I told them I was on the stage. It”s a long way to have to come down to the West End every day, but it”s a rare job to find anyone who”ll let to ladies at all.”
“Wouldn”t they take you back at the shop?”
“I couldn”t get any work to do anywhere. I walked my legs off looking for work. I did get a job once, but I was off for a week because I was queer, and when I went back they said they didn”t want me any more. You can”t blame them either, can you? Them places, they can”t afford to have girls that aren”t strong.”
“You don”t look very well now,” said Philip.
“I wasn”t fit to come out tonight, but I couldn”t help myself, I wanted the money. I wrote to Emil and told him I was broke, but he never even answered the letter.”
“You might have written to me.”
“I didn”t like to, not after what happened, and I didn”t want you to know I was in difficulties. I shouldn”t have been surprised if you”d just told me I”d only got what I deserved.”
“You don”t know me very well, do you, even now?”
For a moment he remembered all the anguish21 he had suffered on her account, and he was sick with the recollection of his pain. But it was no more than recollection. When he looked at her he knew that he no longer loved her. He was very sorry for her, but he was glad to be free. Watching her gravely, he asked himself why he had been so besotted with passion for her.
“You”re a gentleman in every sense of the word,” she said. “You”re the only one I”ve ever met.” She paused for a minute and then flushed. “I hate asking you, Philip, but can you spare me anything?”
“It”s lucky I”ve got some money on me. I”m afraid I”ve only got two pounds.”
He gave her the sovereigns.
“I”ll pay you back, Philip.”
“Oh, that”s all right,” he smiled. “You needn”t worry.”
He had said nothing that he wanted to say. They had talked as if the whole thing were natural; and it looked as though she would go now, back to the horror of her life, and he would be able to do nothing to prevent it. She had got up to take the money, and they were both standing22.
“Am I keeping you?” she asked. “I suppose you want to be getting home.”
“No, I”m in no hurry,” he answered.
“I”m glad to have a chance of sitting down.”
Those words, with all they implied, tore his heart, and it was dreadfully painful to see the weary way in which she sank back into the chair. The silence lasted so long that Philip in his embarrassment23 lit a cigarette.
“It”s very good of you not to have said anything disagreeable to me, Philip. I thought you might say I didn”t know what all.”
He saw that she was crying again. He remembered how she had come to him when Emil Miller24 had deserted25 her and how she had wept. The recollection of her suffering and of his own humiliation26 seemed to render more overwhelming the compassion27 he felt now.
“If I could only get out of it!” she moaned. “I hate it so. I”m unfit for the life, I”m not the sort of girl for that. I”d do anything to get away from it, I”d be a servant if I could. Oh, I wish I was dead.”
And in pity for herself she broke down now completely. She sobbed hysterically28, and her thin body was shaken.
“Oh, you don”t know what it is. Nobody knows till they”ve done it.”
Philip could not bear to see her cry. He was tortured by the horror of her position.
“Poor child,” he whispered. “Poor child.”
He was deeply moved. Suddenly he had an inspiration. It filled him with a perfect ecstasy29 of happiness.
“Look here, if you want to get away from it, I”ve got an idea. I”m frightfully hard up just now, I”ve got to be as economical as I can; but I”ve got a sort of little flat now in Kennington and I”ve got a spare room. If you like you and the baby can come and live there. I pay a woman three and sixpence a week to keep the place clean and to do a little cooking for me. You could do that and your food wouldn”t come to much more than the money I should save on her. It doesn”t cost any more to feed two than one, and I don”t suppose the baby eats much.”
She stopped crying and looked at him.
“D”you mean to say that you could take me back after all that”s happened?”
Philip flushed a little in embarrassment at what he had to say.
“I don”t want you to mistake me. I”m just giving you a room which doesn”t cost me anything and your food. I don”t expect anything more from you than that you should do exactly the same as the woman I have in does. Except for that I don”t want anything from you at all. I daresay you can cook well enough for that.”
She sprang to her feet and was about to come towards him.
“You are good to me, Philip.”
“No, please stop where you are,” he said hurriedly, putting out his hand as though to push her away.
He did not know why it was, but he could not bear the thought that she should touch him.
“I don”t want to be anything more than a friend to you.”
“You are good to me,” she repeated. “You are good to me.”
“Does that mean you”ll come?”
“Oh, yes, I”d do anything to get away from this. You”ll never regret what you”ve done, Philip, never. When can I come, Philip?”
“You”d better come tomorrow.”
Suddenly she burst into tears again.
“What on earth are you crying for now?” he smiled.
“I”m so grateful to you. I don”t know how I can ever make it up to you?”
“Oh, that”s all right. You”d better go home now.”
He wrote out the address and told her that if she came at half past five he would be ready for her. It was so late that he had to walk home, but it did not seem a long way, for he was intoxicated30 with delight; he seemed to walk on air.
第九十章
菲利普从阿特尔涅家告辞出来，穿过昌策里巷，沿着河滨马路走到国会大街的尽头去搭乘公共汽车。同阿特尔涅一家结识六个星期之后的一个星期天，菲利普同往常一样赶着去乘公共汽车，到站后发觉开往肯宁顿的汽车已客满了。此时虽说还是六月，但白天下了整整一大的雨，夜间的空气变得既潮湿又阴冷。为了能坐上位子，他便步行来到皮卡迪利广场。公共汽车停靠在喷泉附近，汽车到达这儿时，车上的乘客很少超过两三位的。汽车每隔一刻钟开一班，因此他还得等些时候才能乘上汽车。他目光懒散地瞅着广场上的人群。酒吧间都打烊了，周围却还有不少人在走动。菲利普的脑海里正翻腾着在阿特尔涅富有魔力的天才的启迪下萌生出来的各种各样的念头。
蓦然间，菲利普的心咯噔一下--他看到了米尔德丽德。他已有好几个星期没去想她了。她正要从沙夫兹伯雷林荫道的拐角处横穿马路，见一队马车驶过来，便站在候车亭里等着。她一心想寻找机会穿过马路，对其他事情一概无暇顾及，米尔德丽德头戴一顶硕大的黑草帽，上面饰有一簇羽毛，身上穿了件黑绸衣。那个时候，女人时兴穿拖裙。见道路畅通了，米尔德丽德随即穿过马路，朝皮卡迪利大街的方向走去，衣裙在身后地上拖着。菲利普怀着一颗狂跳不止的心，默然地尾随着她。他并不希冀同米尔德丽德说话，只是心中有些纳闷，这么晚了，她还上哪儿去呢？他想看一看她的脸。米尔德丽德步履蹒跚地往前走去，随即拐入埃尔街，又穿过里根特大街，最后又朝着皮卡迪利广场的方向走去。菲利普被搞懵了，猜不透她葫芦里卖的是什么药。兴许她是在等人吧。蓦地，菲利普产生一种极大的好奇心，想弄清楚她究竟在等谁。米尔德丽德匆匆追赶前面一位头戴圆顶硬礼帽的矮个子男人，此人正漫不经心地朝前走去，米尔德丽德乜斜着眼睛，打他身旁擦肩而过。她朝前走去，最后在斯旺一埃德加商店大楼前戛然收住脚步，面向大路位候着。当那矮个子男人走近时，米尔德丽德启齿一笑。那男人瞪着双眼望了她一会，然后掉过头去，继续朝前晃悠而去。此时，菲利普一切都明白了。
菲利普的心被一种恐惧感紧紧地攫住了。有好一阵子，他只觉得双腿软弱无力，连站都站不住。过了一会儿，他连忙追上米尔德丽德，触了触她的臂膀。
"米尔德丽德！"
她蓦然惊恐地转过身来。他想米尔德丽德的脸红了，不过他站在暗处看不分明。半晌，他们俩相对无言地站立着。最后还是米尔德丽德打破了沉默。
"想不到在这儿见到你！"
菲利普一时不知说什么是好，浑身震颤不已。他思绪万千，心潮起伏，情难自禁。
"真可怕，"他气喘吁吁地说，声音之低，像是说给自己听似的。
米尔德丽德再也没有吭声，转过身子背朝着菲利普，眼睛朝下望着地面。菲利普感到自己的脸因痛苦而扭曲着。
"有没有说话的地方？"
"我不想跟你说什么，"米尔德丽德脸色冷冷地说。"别缠我了，好吗？"
菲利普陡然想起说不定她眼下急需用钱，一时不得脱身。
"你实在没钱用，我身上倒还有两三个硬币，"菲利普脱口而出。
"我不懂你的意思。我这是回住处的路上碰巧路过这儿。我想等一位跟我在一起干活的女友。"
"我的天哪，你就别说谎了吧，"菲利普喟然叹道。
蓦地，他发觉米尔德丽德在嘤嘤抽泣，于是又问道：
"我们能不能找个地方说个话儿？我能不能上你那儿去呢？"
"使不得，万万使不得，"她呜咽地说。"他们不许我把男人带到那儿去。如果你愿意的话，我明天去找你。"
菲利普肚里雪亮，米尔德丽德是决不会践约的。这一回他决不轻易放她走了。
"不能捱到明天，我要你现在就带我去找个地方说话。"
"嗯，好，地方倒是有一个的，不过要付六先令。"
"我付给六先令就是了，在哪？"
米尔德丽德把地址告诉了菲利普，菲利普随即叫了一辆马车。马车驶过不列颠博物馆，来到格雷旅馆路附近的一条穷街陋巷。米尔德丽德叫车夫把马车停在街道的拐角处。
"他们可不喜欢把马车一直赶到门口，"米尔德丽德嘟哝了一句。
这还是打他们俩坐上马车以来的第一句话。他们下了马车朝前走了几码，接着米尔德丽德对着一扇大门重重地连击三下。菲利普注意到扇形窗上有块硬纸板告示，上面写着"房间出租"的字样。大门悄然无声地开了，从里面走出一位上了年纪的高个子妇人。她瞪了菲利普一眼，随后压低了声音同米尔德丽德叽咕了几句。米尔德丽德领着菲利普穿过过道，来到房子后部的一个房间。里面黑洞洞的。米尔德丽德向菲利普讨了根火柴，点亮了一盏煤气灯，因没有灯罩，火舌直发出刺耳的咝咝声。菲利普这才看清自己此时站在一个又脏又小的卧室里，里面摆着一套漆成松树一般颜色的家具，对这个房问来说，它们显得太大了。花边窗帘很龌龊，窗格栅蒙着一把大纸扇。米尔德丽德一屁股瘫进壁炉边的一张安乐椅里，菲利普则坐在床沿上。他感到害臊。他这才看清米尔德丽德的双颊涂抹着厚厚的胭脂，眉毛描得漆黑，可她形容憔悴，一副病恹恹的样子，面颊上红红的胭脂使得她白里泛绿的肤色分外触目。米尔德丽德心神不宁地凝视着那面纸扇，而菲利普也想不出说些什么，直觉得语塞喉管，像是要哭出来似的，他连忙用手蒙住自己的双眼。
"我的上帝，这事真可怕，"菲利普哀戚地叹道。
"我真弄不懂你大惊小怪些什么呀，我本以为你心里一定很高兴。"
菲利普没有回话，转眼间她一下子呜咽起来。
"你总不会认为我这么做是因为我喜欢吧？"
"喔，我亲爱的，"菲利普不由得嚷了起来，"我非常难过，简直难过极了。"
"这对我屁的用处都没有！"
菲利普再一次感到无言以对，生怕自己一开口，她会误解为他这是在责备或者嘲笑她。
"孩子呢？"菲利普最后问了一句。
"我把她带到伦敦来了。我手头没钱，不能让她继续呆在布赖顿，只得我自个儿带了。我在去海伯里的路上租了个房间，告诉他们说我是一个演员。每天都得从那儿走到伦敦西端。伦敦的活是少有人让太太们干的呀。"
"先前的店主们不愿意你再回去吗？"
"哪里也找不到工作。为了找工作，我的两条腿都跑断了。有一次我的确找到了工作，但是我因生病离开了一个星期，待我回去上班时，他们就不要我了。你也不能责怪他们，对不？那是他们的地方嘛，他们可用不起身体不健壮的姑娘啊。"
"现在你的气色很不好，"菲利普说。
"今晚我本不宜出门的，但是有啥办法呢，我得用钱哪。我曾经给埃米尔写过信，告诉他我身边一个子儿也没有，但是他连一封回信都不给我。"
"你完全可以写信给我嘛。"
"我不想写信给你，倒不是因为以前发生的事情，而是因为我不想让你知道我陷入了困境。如果你说我这是罪有应得，我也决不会感到奇怪的。"
"即使到了今天，你还是很不了解我，不是吗？"
有一会儿，菲利普回忆起他正是因为米尔德丽德的缘故才遭受的极度痛苦，对此，他深深感到发腻。但往事毕竟是往事，都已成了过眼烟云。当他望着眼前的米尔德丽德，他知道他再也不爱她了。他很为她感到难过，但又为自己摆脱了与她的一切纠葛而感到庆幸。菲利普神情忧郁地凝望着米尔德丽德，不禁暗暗地问自己当初怎么会沉湎于对她的一片痴情之中的。
"你是个地地道道的正人君子，"米尔德丽德开口说，"你是我平生见到的唯一的君子。"她停顿了片刻，接着红着脸儿说："菲利普，我实在不想启口，不过请问你能否给我几个钱呢？"
"我身上碰巧还带了点钱，恐怕总共不过两镑吧。"
菲利普说罢把钱全掏给了她。
"我以后会还你的，菲利普。"
"哎，这没什么，"菲利普脸带微笑地说，"你就不必操这份心啦。"
菲利普并没有说出他想说的话，他们俩你一言我一语地交谈着，仿佛事情本来就该如此似的，就好像她此刻将重新过她那种可怕的生活，而他却不能做出什么来阻止她似的。米尔德丽德从安乐椅里站起身来接钱，此时他们俩都站立着。
"我送你走一程好吗？"米尔德丽德问道，"我想你要回去了。"
"不，我不着急，"菲利普答道。
"能有机会坐下歇息，我很高兴。"
这句话以及这句话包含的全部意思撕裂着菲利普的心。看到她疲惫不堪地瘫入安乐椅的样儿，菲利普感到痛心疾首。良久，房间里一片沉寂，窘迫中，菲利普点燃了一支香烟。
"菲利普，你太好了，连一句不中听的话都没说。我原以为你会说我不知羞耻呢。"
菲利普看到米尔德丽德又哭了。当初埃米尔.米勒抛弃她时她跑到自己的面前痛哭流涕的情景，此刻又浮现在他眼前。一想起她那多舛的命途以及他自己所蒙受的羞辱，他对她怀有的恻隐之心似乎变得愈发强烈。
"要是我能摆脱这种困境多好！"米尔德丽德呻吟地说。"我恨透了。我是不宜过这种日子的，我可不是过这种日子的姑娘啊。只要能跳出这个火坑，我干什么都心甘情愿。就是去当用人，我也愿意。喔，但愿我现在就死。"
她作了这番自怨自怜之后，精神彻底垮了。她歇斯底里地呜咽着，瘦小的身体在不住地颤抖。
"喔，你不知道这种日子是啥滋味儿，不亲身体验是决不会知道它的苦处的。"
菲利普实在不忍心看着她哭，看到她处于这么可怕的境地，他的心都碎了。
"可怜的孩子，"他喃喃地说，"可怜的孩子。"
他深感震撼。突然间，他脑际闪过一个念头，这个念头在他心里激起了一阵狂喜，简直到了心醉神迷的地步。
"听我说呀，如果你想摆脱这个困境，我倒有个主意。眼下我手头拮据，处境十分艰难，我得尽量节省。不过，我还是在肯宁顿大街上租赁了一套房间，里面有一间空着没人住。愿意的话，你可以带着孩子上我那儿去住。我每周出三先令六便士雇了个妇人，为我打扫房间和烧饭。这两件事儿，你也能做，你的饭钱也不会比我付给那位妇人的工钱多多少。再说，两个人吃饭的开销也不会比一个人多。至于你那孩子，我想她吃不了多少东西的。"
米尔德丽德倏地停止了抽泣，目不转睛地望着菲利普。
"你的意思是说，尽管发生了这么多事情，你还能让我回到你的身边去吗？"
菲利普想到他要说的话儿，脸上不觉显出尴尬的神情。
"我不想叫你误解我的意思。我只是为你提供一个我并不要额外多出一个子儿的房间和供你吃饭。我只指望你做我雇佣的那位妇人所做的事情，除此之外，我别无他求。我想你也肯定能够烧好饭菜的。"
米尔德丽德从安乐椅里一跃而起，正要朝他跟前走来。
"你待我真好，菲利普。"
"别过来，就请你站在那儿吧，"菲利普连忙说，还匆匆伸出手来，像是要把她推开似的。
他不明白自己为什么要这么做，但是他不能容忍米尔德丽德来碰他。
"我只想成为你的一个朋友，除此以外，我没有任何其他念头。"
"你待我真好，"米尔德丽德絮絮叨叨地说，"你待我真好！"
"这么说你会到我那儿去罗？"
"哦，是的，只要能摆脱这个困境，我干啥都愿意。你是决不会懊悔你所做的事情的，菲利普，决不会的。菲利普，什么时候我可以上你那儿去？"
"最好明天就来。"
米尔德丽德又突然哭起来了。
"你这哭什么呀？"菲利普笑吟吟地问道。
"我真是感激不尽。我不知道我这辈子还能不能报答你？"
"喔，别放在心上。现在你还是回去歇着吧。"
菲利普把地址写给了她，并对她说如果她次晨五点半到的话，他会把一切都安排得顺顺当当的。夜很深了，没有车子可乘，只得步行回去。不过，本来很长的路，现在也不觉长了，他完全为兴奋的心情所陶醉，只觉得脚底生风，有点儿飘然欲仙的味道。
