the vision spendid(美景)-第47节
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Near the close of a fine spring afternoon James Farnum and Alice
Frome were walking at the lower end of Powers Avenue。 In the
conventional garb he affected since he had become a man of substance the
lawyer might have served as a model of fashion to any aspiring youth。 His
silk hat； his light trousers； the double… breasted coat which enfolded his
manly form； were all of the latest design。 The weather； for a change； was
behaving itself so as not to soil the chaste glory of Solomon thus displayed。
There had been rain and would be more； but just now they passed through
a dripping world shot full of sunlight。
〃Of course I'm no end flattered at being allowed to go with you。 But
I'm dying of curiosity to know where we are going。〃
The young woman gave James her beguiling smile。 〃We're going to
call on a sick man。 I'm taking you along as chaperon。 You needn't be
flattered at all。 You're merely a convenience； like a hat pin or an umbrella。〃
〃But I'm not sure this is proper。 Now as your chaperone〃
〃You're not that kind of a chaperon； Mr。 Farnum。 You haven't any
privileges。 Nothing but duties。 Unless it's a privilege to be chosen。 That
gives you a chance to say something pretty。〃
They crossed Yarnell Way。 James； looking around upon the wrecks of
humanity they began to meet； was very sure that he did not enjoy this
excursion。 An adventure with Miss Frome outside of the conventions was
the very thing he did not want。 What in the world did the girl mean
anyhow？ Her vagaries were beginning to disturb her relatives。 So much he
had gathered from Valencia。
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Before he had got as far as a protest Alice turned in to the entrance of a
building and climbed a flight of stairs。 She pushed a button。 A woman of
rather slatternly appearance came to the door。
〃Good afternoon； Mrs。 Maloney。 I've come to see how Mr。 Marchant
is。〃
The landlady brushed into place some flying strands of hair。 〃Well；
now； Miss Frome； he's better to…day。 The nurse is with him。 If you'll jist
knock at the door 'twill be all right。〃
While they were in the passage James interposed an objection。 〃My
dear Miss Frome； I really don't think〃
She interrupted brightly。 〃I'm glad you don't。 You're not expected to；
you know。 I'm commanding this expedition。 Yours not to answer why。
Yours but to do and die。〃 And she knocked on the door of the room at
which they had stopped。
It was opened by a nurse in uniform。 James observed that she； too； like
Mrs。 Maloney； brightened at sight of the visitor。
〃Mr。 Marchant will be pleased to see you； Miss Frome。〃
He was。 His gladness illuminated the white face through the skin of
which the cheek bones appeared about to emerge。 A thin blue… veined hand
shot forward to meet hers。
〃Oh； comrade； but I'm glad to meet you。〃
〃I think you know Mr。 Farnum。〃
The man propped up in bed nodded a little grin at the lawyer。 〃We've
met。 It was years ago in Jeff's rooms。〃
〃Oheryes。 Yes； I remember。〃
Presently Jeff and Sam Miller dropped in to see the invalid。 From
chance remarks the lawyer gathered that the little cobbler had brought
himself so low by giving his overcoat one bitter night to a poor girl he had
found shivering in the streets。
The frankness with which they discussed before Alice Frome things
never referred to in good society shocked James。
It appeared that the story of this little factory girl who had been led
astray was still urgent in Marchant's mind。 At the time of their arrival he
had just finished scribbling some verses hot from his heart。 Jeff read them
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aloud； in spite of the poet's modest insistence that they were only a first
draft。
〃This is a story that two may tell； I am the one； the other's in hell； A
story of passionate amorous fire； With the glamor of love to attune the
lyre。
She traveled the road at breakneck speed； I opened the gates and
saddled the steed； 〃Ride free！〃 I cried as we dashed along。 Her sweet voice
echoed a mocking song。〃
〃'Fraid it doesn't always scan。 They seldom do；〃 apologized the author
of the verses。
Jeff rapped for order。 〃The sense of the meeting is that the blushing
poet will please not interrupt。〃
〃Nights of the wildest revel and mirth； Days of sorrow； remorse； and
dearth； A heaven of love and a hell of regret But there's always the
woman to pay my debt。
'Sin；' says the preacher； 'shall be washed free； The blood of the Lamb
was shed for thee。' Smugly I pass the sacred wine； The woman in hell pays
toll for mine。
'I am a pillar of Church and State； She but the broken sport of Fate；
This is a story that two may tell； I am the one； the other's in hell。'〃
There was a moment's silence after Jeff had finished。
〃What are you going to call your verses？〃 the nurse asked。
〃I'll call them； 'She Pays。' That's the idea of it。〃
James was distinctly uneasy。 There was positively something indecent
about this。 He had an aversion to thinking about unpleasant things。 Every
well…regulated mind ought to have。 He would like to make a protest； but
he could not very well do that here。 He promised himself to let Alice
Frome know as soon as they were alone what he thought about her
escapades into this world below the dead line。
He moved uncomfortably in his chair； and in doing so his gaze fell full
into the eyes of Sam Miller。 The fat librarian was staring at him out of a
very white face。 Before James could break the spell an unvoiced question
had been asked and answered。
Marchant was already riding the hobby that was religion to him。 〃Four
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dollars a week。 That's what she was getting。 And her employer is worth
two millions。 Think of it。 All her youth to be sold for four dollars a week。
Just enough to keep body and soul together。 And when she went to the
head of her department to ask for a raise he leered at her and said a good
looking girl like her could always find someone to take care of her。 Eight
months she stuck it out； getting more ragged every day。 Then enter the
man； offering her some comfort and pleasure and love。 Do you blame
her？〃
〃You must give me her address；〃 Alice said softly。
Oscar nodded。 〃Good enough； comrade。 Jeff has looked out for her；
but she needs a woman friend。〃 With a sweep of the hand he went back to
the impersonal。 〃Her trouble was economic； just as ours is。 Look at it。
We've got a perfect self…regulating system that adjusts itself automatically
to bring hard times when we're most prosperous。 Give us big crops and
boom times； and we head straight for a depression。 Why？〃 He interrupted
himself with a fit of coughing； but presently began again； talking also with
his swift supple hands。 〃Because then the foreign market will be glutted。
Surplus goods won't sell abroad。 The manufacturer； unable to dispose of
his produce； will cut down his force or close his plant。 Labor； out of work；
cannot buy。 So every branch of industry suffers because we're too well off。
It's a vicious absurd circle born of the system under which we live。 Under
socialism the remedy would be merely to work less for a time until the
surplus was used。 It would affect nobody injuriously。 The whole thing's as
simple as A B C。〃
It had been plain to the first casual glance of James that the little
Socialist was far gone。 The amazing thing was the eagerness with which
his spirit dominated the body in such ill case。 He was alive to the
fingertips； though he was already in the Valley of the Shadow。 To the
lawyer there was something eerie about it all。 Marchant was done with the
business of living。 Why didn't he lie down and accept the verdict？
B
