But it was no good thinking about it. He walked on. It was now light： the river was beautiful in the silence， and there was something mysterious in the early day； it was going to be very fine， and the sky， pale in the dawn， was cloudless. He felt very tired， and hunger was gnawing8 at his entrails， but he could not sit still； he was constantly afraid of being spoken to by a policeman. He dreaded9 the mortification11 of that. He felt dirty and wished he could have a wash. At last he found himself at Hampton Court. He felt that if he did not have something to eat he would cry. He chose a cheap eating-house and went in； there was a smell of hot things， and it made him feel slightly sick： he meant to eat something nourishing enough to keep up for the rest of the day， but his stomach revolted at the sight of food. He had a cup of tea and some bread and butter. He remembered then that it was Sunday and he could go to the Athelnys； he thought of the roast beef and the Yorkshire pudding they would eat； but he was fearfully tired and could not face the happy， noisy family. He was feeling morose12 and wretched. He wanted to be left alone. He made up his mind that he would go into the gardens of the palace and lie down. His bones ached. Perhaps he would find a pump so that he could wash his hands and face and drink something； he was very thirsty； and now that he was no longer hungry he thought with pleasure of the flowers and the lawns and the great leafy trees. He felt that there he could think out better what he must do. He lay on the grass， in the shade， and lit his pipe. For economy's sake he had for a long time confined himself to two pipes a day； he was thankful now that his pouch13 was full. He did not know what people did when they had no money. Presently he fell asleep. When he awoke it was nearly mid-day， and he thought that soon he must be setting out for London so as to be there in the early morning and answer any advertisements which seemed to promise. He thought of his uncle， who had told him that he would leave him at his death the little he had； Philip did not in the least know how much this was： it could not be more than a few hundred pounds. He wondered whether he could raise money on the reversion. Not without the old man's consent， and that he would never give.
"The only thing I can do is to hang on somehow till he dies. "
Philip reckoned his age. The Vicar of Blackstable was well over seventy. He had chronic14 bronchitis， but many old men had that and lived on indefinitely. Meanwhile something must turn up； Philip could not get away from the feeling that his position was altogether abnormal； people in his particular station did not starve. It was because he could not bring himself to believe in the reality of his experience that he did not give way to utter despair. He made up his mind to borrow half a sovereign from Lawson. He stayed in the garden all day and smoked when he felt very hungry； he did not mean to eat anything until he was setting out again for London： it was a long way and he must keep up his strength for that. He started when the day began to grow cooler， and slept on benches when he was tired. No one disturbed him. He had a wash and brush up， and a shave at Victoria， some tea and bread and butter， and while he was eating this read the advertisement columns of the morning paper. As he looked down them his eye fell upon an announcement asking for a salesman in the `furnishing drapery' department of some well-known stores. He had a curious little sinking of the heart， for with his middle-class prejudices it seemed dreadful to go into a shop； but he shrugged15 his shoulders， after all what did it matter？ and he made up his mind to have a shot at it. He had a queer feeling that by accepting every humiliation， by going out to meet it even， he was forcing the hand of fate. When he presented himself， feeling horribly shy， in the department at nine o'clock he found that many others were there before him. They were of all ages， from boys of sixteen to men of forty； some were talking to one another in undertones， but most were silent； and when he took up his place those around him gave him a look of hostility16. He heard one man say：
"The only thing I look forward to is getting my refusal soon enough to give me time to look elsewhere. "
The man， standing next him， glanced at Philip and asked：
"Had any experience？"
"No， " said Philip.
He paused a moment and then made a remark： "Even the smaller houses won't see you without appointment after lunch. "
Philip looked at the assistants. Some were draping chintzes and cretonnes， and others， his neighbour told him were preparing country orders that had come in by post. At about a quarter past nine the buyer arrived. He heard one of the men who were waiting say to another that it was Mr. Gibbons. He was middle-aged， short and corpulent， with a black beard and dark， greasy17 hair. He had brisk movements and a clever face. He wore a silk hat and a frock coat， the lapel of which was adorned18 with a white geranium surrounded by leaves. He went into his office， leaving the door open； it was very small and contained only an American roll-desk in the corner， a bookcase， and a cupboard. The men standing outside watched him mechanically take the geranium out of his coat and put it in an ink-pot filled with water. It was against the rules to wear flowers in business.
[During the day the department men who wanted to keep in with the governor admired the flower.
"I've never seen better， " they said， "you didn't grow it yourself？"
"Yes I did， " he smiled， and a gleam of pride filled his intelligent eyes. ]
He took off his hat and changed his coat， glanced at the letters and then at the men who were waiting to see him. He made a slight sign with one finger， and the first in the queue stepped into the office. They filed past him one by one and answered his questions. He put them very briefly， keeping his eyes fixed19 on the applicant's face.
"Age？ Experience？ Why did you leave your job？"
He listened to the replies without expression. When it came to Philip's turn he fancied that Mr. Gibbons stared at him curiously20. Philip's clothes were neat and tolerably cut. He looked a little different from the others.
"Experience？"
"I'm afraid I haven't any， " said Philip.
"No good. "
Philip walked out of the office. The ordeal21 had been so much less painful than he expected that he felt no particular disappointment. He could hardly hope to succeed in getting a place the first time he tried. He had kept the newspaper and now looked at the advertisements again： a shop in Holborn needed a salesman too， and he went there； but when he arrived he found that someone had already been engaged. If he wanted to get anything to eat that day he must go to Lawson's studio before he went out to luncheon， so he made his way along the Brompton Road to Yeoman's Row.
"I say， I'm rather broke till the end of the month， " he said as soon as he found an opportunity. "I wish you'd lend me half a sovereign， will you？"
It was incredible the difficulty he found in asking for money； and he remembered the casual way， as though almost they were conferring a favour， men at the hospital had extracted small sums out of him which they had no intention of repaying.
"Like a shot， " said Lawson.
But when he put his hand in his pocket he found that he had only eight shillings. Philip's heart sank.
"Oh well， lend me five bob， will you？" he said lightly.
"Here you are. "
Philip went to the public baths in Westminster and spent sixpence on a bath. Then he got himself something to eat. He did not know what to do with himself in the afternoon. He would not go back to the hospital in case anyone should ask him questions， and besides， he had nothing to do there now； they would wonder in the two or three departments he had worked in why he did not come， but they must think what they chose， it did not matter： he would not be the first student who had dropped out without warning. He went to the free library， and looked at the papers till they wearied him， then he took out Stevenson's New Arabian Nights； but he found he could not read： the words meant nothing to him， and he continued to brood over his helplessness. He kept on thinking the same things all the time， and the fixity of his thoughts made his head ache. At last， craving22 for fresh air， he went into the Green Park and lay down on the grass. He thought miserably23 of his deformity， which made it impossible for him to go to the war. He went to sleep and dreamt that he was suddenly sound of foot and out at the Cape24 in a regiment25 of Yeomanry； the pictures he had looked at in the illustrated26 papers gave materials for his fancy； and he saw himself on the Veldt， in khaki， sitting with other men round a fire at night. When he awoke he found that it was still quite light， and presently he heard Big Ben strike seven. He had twelve hours to get through with nothing to do. He dreaded the interminable night. The sky was overcast27 and he feared it would rain； he would have to go to a lodging-house where he could get a bed； he had seen them advertised on lamps outside houses in Lambeth： Good Beds sixpence； he had never been inside one， and dreaded the foul28 smell and the vermin. He made up his mind to stay in the open air if he possibly could. He remained in the park till it was closed and then began to walk about. He was very tired. The thought came to him that an accident would be a piece of luck， so that he could be taken to a hospital and lie there， in a clean bed， for weeks. At midnight he was so hungry that he could not go without food any more， so he went to a coffee stall at Hyde Park Corner and ate a couple of potatoes and had a cup of coffee. Then he walked again. He felt too restless to sleep， and he had a horrible dread10 of being moved on by the police. He noted29 that he was beginning to look upon the constable30 from quite a new angle. This was the third night he had spent out. Now and then he sat on the benches in Piccadilly and towards morning he strolled down to The Embankment. He listened to the striking of Big Ben， marking every quarter of an hour， and reckoned out how long it left till the city woke again. In the morning he spent a few coppers on making himself neat and clean， bought a paper to read the advertisements， and set out once more on the search for work.
He went on in this way for several days. He had very little food and began to feel weak and ill， so that he had hardly enough energy to go on looking for the work which seemed so desperately31 hard to find. He was growing used now to the long waiting at the back of a shop on the chance that he would be taken on， and the curt32 dismissal. He walked to all parts of London in answer to the advertisements， and he came to know by sight men who applied33 as fruitlessly as himself. One or two tried to make friends with him， but he was too tired and too wretched to accept their advances. He did not go any more to Lawson， because he owed him five shillings. He began to be too dazed to think clearly and ceased very much to care what would happen to him. He cried a good deal. At first he was very angry with himself for this and ashamed， but he found it relieved him， and somehow made him feel less hungry. In the very early morning he suffered a good deal from cold. One night he went into his room to change his linen； he slipped in about three， when he was quite sure everyone would be asleep， and out again at five； he lay on the bed and its softness was enchanting； all his bones ached， and as he lay he revelled34 in the pleasure of it； it was so delicious that he did not want to go to sleep. He was growing used to want of food and did not feel very hungry， but only weak. Constantly now at the back of his mind was the thought of doing away with himself， but he used all the strength he had not to dwell on it， because he was afraid the temptation would get hold of him so that he would not be able to help himself. He kept on saying to himself that it would be absurd to commit suicide， since something must happen soon； he could not get over the impression that his situation was too preposterous to be taken quite seriously； it was like an illness which must be endured but from which he was bound to recover. Every night he swore that nothing would induce him to put up with such another and determined35 next morning to write to his uncle， or to Mr. Nixon， the solicitor36， or to Lawson； but when the time came he could not bring himself to make the humiliating confession37 of his utter failure. He did not know how Lawson would take it. In their friendship Lawson had been scatter-brained and he had prided himself on his common sense. He would have to tell the whole history of his folly38. He had an uneasy feeling that Lawson， after helping39 him， would turn the cold shoulder on him. His uncle and the solicitor would of course do something for him， but he dreaded their reproaches. He did not want anyone to reproach him： he clenched40 his teeth and repeated that what had happened was inevitable41 just because it had happened. Regret was absurd.
The days were unending， and the five shillings Lawson had lent him would not last much longer. Philip longed for Sunday to come so that he could go to Athelny's. He did not know what prevented him from going there sooner， except perhaps that he wanted so badly to get through on his own； for Athelny， who had been in straits as desperate， was the only person who could do anything for him. Perhaps after dinner he could bring himself to tell Athelny that he was in difficulties. Philip repeated to himself over and over again what he should say to him. He was dreadfully afraid that Athelny would put him off with airy phrases： that would be so horrible that he wanted to delay as long as possible the putting of him to the test. Philip had lost all confidence in his fellows.
Saturday night was cold and raw. Philip suffered horribly. From midday on Saturday till he dragged himself wearily to Athelny's house he ate nothing. He spent his last twopence on Sunday morning on a wash and a brush up in the lavatory42 at Charing43 Cross.
第一百章
星期六。菲利普曾答应房东太太在这一天缴纳房租。一个星期来，他天天引颈期待着什么新情况出现，结果什么工作也没找着。他可从未沦入这般绝望的境地，因而不觉茫然，束手无策。他内心里总认为这一切是个荒谬绝伦的玩笑。他身边只有几枚铜币，凡是用不着穿的衣服都典卖光了。他的住处还有几本书和一些零星什物，兴许还可以卖一两个先令。可是，房东太太却虎视眈眈地望着他的一举一动，他生怕自己从住处拿东西出来时遭到房东太太的阻截。唯一的办法就是直截了当地告诉房东太太，说他缴不起房租，可他又役有这么个勇气。眼下是六月中旬，夜晚倒还温暖宜人。于是，菲利普决定在外过夜。他沿着切尔西长堤缓步而行，那河面一平如镜，无声无息。最后，他走累了，便坐在一张长条椅上打个盹儿。他蓦地从梦中惊醒过来，不知自己睡了多久。他梦见一位警察把他推醒，催逼着他继续往前走。但是，他张开眼皮一看，发觉身边并无旁人。不知怎么的，他又抬步朝前走去，最后来到奇齐克，在那儿又睡了一觉。长条椅硬撅撅的，睡得很不舒服，不多时他便醒了。这一夜似乎特别的长。他不禁打了个寒颤。一股凄苦之情爬上了他的心头，不知究竟怎么办才好。他为自己竟在长堤上过夜而感到害臊，觉得这件事似乎特别丢脸。坐在暗地里，他直觉得双颊阵阵发烫。此刻，他回想起那些从前亦有过此番经历的人们对他讲的话来，而那些人中间，有的还是当牧师、军官的，还有曾经念过大学的哩。他暗自纳闷，自己是否也会成为他们中间的一员，去加入那列排在慈善机关前面的队伍中去，等着施舍一碗汤喝。与其如此，倒不如以自杀了此残生，他可不能像那样子苟且偷生。劳森要是得知他落到这般田地，肯定会向他伸出援助之手的。为了顾全面子而不去恳求帮助，这种做法是荒唐的。他真弄不懂自己怎么会堕入这般凄惨的境地的。他一向审时度势，总是尽力去做自己认为是最好的事情，可眼下一切都乱了套。他总是力所能及地帮助别人，并不认为他比其他任何人来得更为自私，可如今他却陷入了这种困厄的境地，事情似乎太不公平了。
但是，尽坐着空想又顶什么事呢。他继续朝前走着。此时，晨光熹微，万籁俱寂，那条河显得优美极了，四周似乎弥漫着一种神秘莫测的气氛。这天定是个好天，黎明时的颖穹，白苍苍的，无一丝云彩。菲利普感到心力交瘁，饥饿在啮蚀着五脏六腑，但又不能定下心来坐着歇息，因为他一直在担心会受到警察的盘洁。他可受不了那种耻辱。他发觉自己身上很脏，很希望能洗上一把澡。最后，他来到汉普顿宫，感到要不吃点东西填填肚子，准会哇地哭出声来。于是，他选了家下等馆子走了进去。馆子热气腾腾，使得他有点儿恶心。他本打算吃些富有营养的食物，以维持以后几天的日子，但一看见食物，却又不住地反胃。他只喝了杯茶，吃了些涂黄油的面包。此刻，他记起了这天是星期天，他满可以上阿特尔涅家去，他们家可能会吃烤牛肉和富有约克郡地方风味的布丁。但是他疲惫个堪，无力面对那幸福的、喧嚷的家庭。他愁眉不展，心情讲透了，只想自个儿呆在一个地方。于是，他决定走进汉普顿宫内花园里去，静静地躺一会儿。他浑身骨头疼痛不已。或许，他可以找到个水泵房，这样就可以洗洗脸和手，还可以喝它几口，因为此刻他渴得嗓子眼里直冒烟。眼下肚子泡了，他又饶有情趣地想起了鲜花、草坪和婷婷如盖的大树来了，觉得在那样的环境下，可以更好地为今后作出谋划。他嘴里叼着烟斗，仰面躺在绿荫下的草坪上。为了节省起见，很长一段时间以来，他每天只准自己抽两袋烟。看着烟斗里还能装满烟丝，一股感激之情从心底涌泛上来。别人身无分文时是怎么样打发日子的，他可不知道。不一会儿，他酣然入梦了。一觉醒来，已是中午时分。他想，呆不了多久，就得动身去伦敦，争取次日凌晨赶到那儿，去应对那些有所作为的招聘广告。菲利普想起了牧师大伯，他曾许诺死后把他的些许财产留给自己的。这笔遗产的数目究竟有多大，菲利普毫无所知：至多不过几百英镑罢了。他不知道能否去提他即将继承的这笔钱财。唉，不经那老东西的同意，这笔钱是提不出来的，而他大伯眼睛不闭是永远不会撒手的。
"我唯一能做的就是耐心等待，等到他死！"
菲利普盘算起他大伯的年龄来。那位布莱克斯泰勃教区牧师早过了古稀之年，还患有慢性支气管炎。可许多老人都身患同样的疾病，却一个个抱住尘世不放，死期还遥遥无期呢。不过在这期间，总会有什么新情况出现的。菲利普总觉得他的境况有些反常，人们处在他特殊的位子上是决计不会挨饿的。正因为他不愿相信他目下的境况是真的，所以他并不失望。他打定主意，去向劳森先借上半个英镑。菲利普一整天呆在汉普顿宫内花园里，肚子饿了就抽上几口烟，不到动身去伦敦的时候，他不去吃东西，因为那段路还不短哩，他得为走完这段路程而养精蓄锐。天气转凉以后，他才动身朝伦敦走去，走累了，就在路边的长条椅上躺上一会儿。一路上没有一个人打扰他。到了维多利亚大街，他梳洗整容了一番，喝了杯茶，吃了点涂黄油的面包。吃东西的当儿，他浏览着晨报上的广告栏，目光停留在几家遐迩闻名的公司的装饰织品部招聘售货员的广告上。他的心不由得莫名其妙地变得有些儿沉重。囿于中产阶段的偏见，他觉得踏进商店去当售货员怪丢人现眼的，但他耸了耸双肩。说到底，这又有什么要紧的呢？他决定去试它一试。菲利普不觉诧异起来，觉得自己对每一次遭受的耻辱都逆来顺受，甚至还堂而皇之地迎上前去，就像是在胁迫命运同自己摊牌似的。他怀着难言的羞赧心情，于九时来到装饰织品部。这时，他发现已经有许多人赶在自己的头里先到了。他们中间从十六岁的少年到四十岁的成年男子各种年龄的人都有。有几个人压低了声音在交谈着，但大多数都缄默不语。菲利普站进队伍里的时候，周围的人都向他投来充满敌意的一瞥。这当儿，他听到有个人在说：
"我盼只盼早点通知我落选的消息，这样我好及时到别处去找工作。"
站在身后的那个人朝菲利普瞥了一眼，随即问了一句：
"您过去做过这种工作吗？"
"没做过。"
那个人顿了顿后便接着说道："吃过了午饭，即使是小客栈，未经事先预订房间，也是不会接待你的。"
菲利普两眼望着那些店员，只见有的在忙着悬挂擦光印花布和印花装饰布，还有的人呢，他听身边的人介绍说，他们是在整理从乡间邮来的订货单。约莫九点一刻的光景，经理到了。他听到队伍里有人告诉另一个人说这位就是吉本斯先生。此人中年模样，矮矮胖胖的，蓄着浓密的胡子。深色的头发，油光可鉴。他动作轻快，脸上一副精明相。他头上戴了顶丝绸质地的帽子，身上着了一件礼服大衣，翻领上别了朵绿叶簇拥着的洁白的天竺葵。他径直走进办公室，让门敞开着。那间办公室很小，角落里摆着一张美国式的有活动顶板的书桌，此外，就是一个书橱和一个柜子。站在门外的人望着吉本斯先生慢条斯理地从大衣翻领上取下天竺葵，把它插入盛满水的墨水瓶里。据说上班时别花是违反规定的。
（这天上班时间，店员们为了讨好他们的顶头上司，一个个竞相赞美那枝天竺葵。
"我这辈子还从没见过比这更美的花儿呢，"他们争先恐后地说。"总不会是你自个儿种的吧？"
"是我自个儿种的，"吉本斯先生说着，脸上笑容可掬，那对聪慧的眼睛里流露出一丝自豪的光芒。）
吉本斯先生摘下帽子，换下礼服大衣后，瞟了一眼桌上的信件，随后又朝站在门外的那些人瞥了一眼。他微微弯了弯手指，打了个手势，于是站在队伍里的第一个人便进了他的办公室。这些人一个挨着一个打他面前走过，回答着他的发问。他问得很简短，在发问的当儿，两眼死死地盯视着应试人员的脸孔。
"年龄？经历？你为什么离开你以前的工作？"
他脸上毫无表情地听着别人的答话。轮到菲利普时，菲利普觉得吉本斯先生用一种异样的眼光凝视着他。这天菲利普穿着整洁，衣服裁剪得还算贴身，显得有些儿与众不同。
"有何经历？"
"对不起，我从没干过这类工作，"菲利普答道。
"那不行。"
菲利普走出了办公室，此番经历并没有给他带来比想象的更为剧烈的痛苦，所以他也不觉得特别难受。他不可能存有一下子就能找到职位的奢望。此时，他手里还拿着那张报纸，便又在广告栏里找开了。他发现霍尔本地区有爿商店也在招聘一名售货员。可是，到那儿一看，这一职位已经给人占了。这一天他还想吃东西的话，那就得赶在劳森外出用餐之前到达劳森的画室。他沿着布朗普顿路信步朝自由民街走去。
"喂，月底之前，我手头一个钱也没有了，"菲利普一有机会便对劳森说。"我希望你能借给我半个英镑，好吗？"
他发现开口向别人借钱可真难哪。此时，他回想起医院里有些人向他借钱时的那种漫不经心的样子来，他们从他手里借走钱，非但无意归还，而且看上去还像是他们在赐予他恩典似的。
"非常乐意，"劳森说。
可是，劳森把手伸进口袋掏钱时，发觉自己总共才有八个先令。菲利普的心一下子凉了半截。
"嗯，呃，那就借给我五个先令吧，好吗？"他轻轻地说道。
"喏，给你五先令。"
菲利普来到威斯敏斯特一家公共浴室，花了六便士洗了个澡。然后，他买了点食物填了填肚子。他自己也不知道如何打发这天下午的时光。他不愿再回到医院去，生怕被人撞见问这问那的，再说，眼下那儿也没他干的事了。他曾经呆过的两三个科室里的人对他的不露面兴许会感到纳闷，不过他们爱怎么想就怎么想吧，反正他也不是第一个不告而别的人。他来到免费图书馆，借了几张报纸看起来，看腻了就抽出史蒂文森的《新天方夜谭》。但是，他发觉一个字也看不进去。书上写的对他来说毫无意思，因为他还在不停地考虑着他眼下困厄的境地。他脑子里翻来复去地考虑着同样的问题，头都胀了。后来，他渴望着吸口新鲜空气，便从图书馆出来，来到格林公园，仰天躺在草坪上。他怏怏不乐地想起了自己的残疾，正因为自己是个跛子，才没能上前线去打仗。他渐渐进入了梦乡，梦见自己的脚突然变好了，远离祖国来到好望角的骑兵团队。他在报纸上的插图里看到的一切为他的想象添上了翅膀。他看到自己在费尔德特，身穿卡其军服，夜间同旁人一道围坐在篝火旁。他醒来时，发觉天色尚早，不一会儿，耳边传来议院塔上的大钟当当接连敲了七下。他还得百无聊赖地打发余下的十二个小时呢，他特别害怕那漫漫的长夜。天上阴云密布，他担心天快下雨了。这样，他得上寄宿舍去租张铺过夜。他曾在兰佩思那儿看到寄宿舍门前的灯罩上亮着的广告：床铺舒适，六便士一个铺位。可他从来没进去住过，而且也怕那里面的令人作呕的气味和虫子。他打定主意，只要天公作美，就在外头宿夜。他在公园里一直呆到清园闭门，然后才起身到处溜达。眼下，他感到疲惫不堪。蓦然间，他想要是能碰上个事故，兴许倒是个好运气。那样的话，他就可以被送进医院，在干干净净的床铺上躺上几个星期。子夜时分，他饥饿实在难忍，于是便上海德公园拐角处吃了几片马铃薯，喝了杯咖啡。接着，他又到处游荡。他内心烦躁不安，毫无睡意，而且生怕遇上警察来催促他不停地往前走。他注意到自己渐渐地从一个新的角度来看待那些警察了。这是他在外露宿的第三个夜晚了。他不时地坐在皮卡迪利大街上的长条凳上小歇一会，破晓时分，便信步朝切尔西长堤踅去。他谛听着议院塔上的大钟的当当钟声，每过一刻钟便做个记号，心里盘算着还得呆多久城市才能苏醒过来。早晨，他花了几枚铜币梳洗打扮了一番，买了张报纸浏览上面的广告栏的消息，接着便动身继续去寻找工作。
接连数日，他都是这样度过的。他进食很少，渐渐觉得浑身懒洋洋的，软弱无力，再也打不起精神去寻找工作，而要找到工作看上去确比登天还难。他抱着能被录取的一线希望，久久地等待在商店的门口，却被人家三言两语就打发走了。对此，他也慢慢地习以为常了。他瞧着招聘广告的说明，按图索骥，跑遍了整个伦敦去寻求工作。可是没多久，他发现一些面熟的人也同他一样一无所获。他们中间有那么一两个人想同他交个朋友，可是他疲倦不堪，没精打采的，也懒得接受他们的友好表示。以后他再也没有去找过劳森，因为他还欠劳森五个先令未还呢。近来，他成天公头昏眼花，脑子也不好使，对以后他究竟会落得个什么结局，他也不怎么介意了。他经常哭泣，起初他还不住地生自己的气，觉得怪丢人的，可后来他发觉哭了一场，心里反而觉得好受些了，至少使得他感到肚子也不怎么饿了。凌晨时分，寒风刺骨，他可遭罪了。一天深夜，他溜进寓所去换了换内衣。约莫凌晨三点光景，他断定这时屋内的人们还在酣睡，便悄然无声地溜进了房间，又于早上五点偷偷地溜了出来。在这期间，他仰卧在柔软的床铺上，心里着实痛快。此时，他浑身骨头阵阵酸痛。他静静地躺在床上，扬扬得意地领略着这番乐趣，感到惬意至极，怎么也睡不着。他对食不果腹的日子慢慢习惯了，倒也不大觉得肚子饿，只是觉得浑身无力而已。眼下，他脑海里常常掠过自杀的念头，但是他竭尽全力不让自己去想这个问题，生怕自杀的念头一旦占了上风，他就无法控制住自己。他一再默默地告诫自己，自杀的举动是荒唐的，因为要不了多久，他就会时来运转的。他说什么也摆脱不了这样的印象：他眼下所处的困境显得太荒谬，因此他根本就没有把它当真。他认为这好比是一场他不得不忍受的疾病，但最后终究是会从这场疾病中康复过来的。每天夜里，他都赌咒，发誓，无论什么力量都不能使他再忍受一次这样的打击，并决心次日早晨给他大伯和律师尼克逊先生，或者劳森写封信。可是到了第二天早晨，他怎么也不想低三下四地向他们承认自己的失败。他不清楚劳森知道了他的情况后会有何反应。在他们的友好交往中，劳森一向是轻率浮躁的，而他却为自己略通世故人情而感到自豪。他将不得不把自己的愚蠢行为向劳森和盘托出。在接济了他一次以后，劳森很可能会让他吃闭门羹，对此，菲利普心里惴惴不安。至于他的大伯和那位律师，他们肯定会有所表示的，不过，他怕他们会呵斥自己，而他自己可不愿受任何人的呵斥。他咬紧牙关，心里不住地默默念叨着：事情既然发生了，那就是不可避免的了，懊恼是荒唐可笑的。
这样的日子过了一天又一天，可劳森借给他的五先令却维持不了多久。菲利普殷切期盼着星期肾快快到来，这样，他就可以上阿特尔涅家去。究竟是什么阻拦他迟迟不去阿特尔涅家的，菲利普自己也说不清楚，兴许是他想独自熬过这一难关的缘故吧。虽说阿特尔涅家道艰难，过着捉襟见肘的日子，可眼下也只有阿特尔涅能够为他排难解闷了。或许在吃过午饭后，他可以把自己的难处告诉给阿特尔涅。他嘴里不断地念叨着他要对阿特尔涅说的话。他十分担心阿特尔涅会说些惠而不实的漂亮话来打发他，要是那样的话，他可真受不了。因此，他想尽可能地拖延时间，迟一点让自己去尝那种遭人冷遇的苦味。此时，菲利普对他的伙伴都丧失了信心。
星期六的夜晚，又湿又冷。菲利普吃足了苦头。从星期六中午起直到他拖着疲乏的步子上阿特尔涅家这段时间里，他粒米未吃，滴水未进。星期天早晨，他在查里恩十字广场的盥洗室里花去了身上仅剩的两便士，梳洗了一番。
