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a room with a view-第13节

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Persephone whom he asked leave to pick up on the way; saying

that she was his sisterPersephone; tall and slender and pale;

returning with the Spring to her mother's cottage; and still

shading her eyes from the unaccustomed light。 To her Mr。 Eager

objected; saying that here was the thin edge of the wedge; and

one must guard against imposition。 But the ladies interceded; and

when it had been made clear that it was a very great favour; the

goddess was allowed to mount beside the god。



Phaethon at once slipped the left rein over her head; thus

enabling himself to drive with his arm round her waist。 She did

not mind。 Mr。 Eager; who sat with his back to the horses; saw

nothing of the indecorous proceeding; and continued his

conversation with Lucy。 The other two occupants of the carriage

were old Mr。 Emerson and Miss Lavish。 For a dreadful thing had

happened: Mr。 Beebe; without consulting Mr。 Eager; had doubled

the size of the party。 And though Miss Bartlett and Miss Lavish

had planned all the morning how the people were to sit; at the

critical moment when the carriages came round they lost their

heads; and Miss Lavish got in with Lucy; while Miss Bartlett;

with George Emerson and Mr。 Beebe; followed on behind。



It was hard on the poor chaplain to have his partie carree thus

transformed。 Tea at a Renaissance villa; if he had ever meditated

it; was now impossible。 Lucy and Miss Bartlett had a certain

style about them; and Mr。 Beebe; though unreliable; was a man of

parts。 But a shoddy lady writer and a journalist who had murdered

his wife in the sight of Godthey should enter no villa at his

introduction。



Lucy; elegantly dressed in white; sat erect and nervous amid

these explosive ingredients; attentive to Mr。 Eager; repressive

towards Miss Lavish; watchful of old Mr。 Emerson; hitherto

fortunately asleep; thanks to a heavy lunch and the drowsy

atmosphere of Spring。 She looked on the expedition as the work of

Fate。 But for it she would have avoided George Emerson

successfully。 In an open manner he had shown that he wished to

continue their intimacy。 She had refused; not because she

disliked him; but because she did not know what had happened; and

suspected that he did know。 And this frightened her。



For the real eventwhatever it washad taken place; not in the

Loggia; but by the river。 To behave wildly at the sight of death

is pardonable。 But to discuss it afterwards; to pass from

discussion into silence; and through silence into sympathy; that

is an error; not of a startled emotion; but of the whole fabric。

There was really something blameworthy (she thought) in their

joint contemplation of the shadowy stream; in the common impulse

which had turned them to the house without the passing of a look

or word。 This sense of wickedness had been slight at first。 She

had nearly joined the party to the Torre del Gallo。 But each time

that she avoided George it became more imperative that she should

avoid him again。 And now celestial irony; working through her

cousin and two clergymen; did not suffer her to leave Florence

till she had made this expedition with him through the hills。



Meanwhile Mr。 Eager held her in civil converse; their little tiff

was over。



〃So; Miss Honeychurch; you are travelling? As a student of art?〃



〃Oh; dear me; nooh; no!〃



〃Perhaps as a student of human nature;〃 interposed Miss Lavish;

〃like myself?〃



〃Oh; no。 I am here as a tourist。〃



〃Oh; indeed;〃 said Mr。 Eager。 〃Are you indeed? If you will not

think me rude; we residents sometimes pity you poor tourists

not a littlehanded about like a parcel of goods from Venice to

Florence; from Florence to Rome; living herded together in

pensions or hotels; quite unconscious of anything that is outside

Baedeker; their one anxiety to get 'done' or 'through' and go on

somewhere else。 The result is; they mix up towns; rivers; palaces

in one inextricable whirl。 You know the American girl in Punch

who says: 'Say; poppa; what did we see at Rome?' And the father

replies: 'Why; guess Rome was the place where we saw the yaller

dog。' There's travelling for you。 Ha! ha! ha!〃



〃I quite agree;〃 said Miss Lavish; who had several times tried to

interrupt his mordant wit。 〃The narrowness and superficiality of

the Anglo…Saxon tourist is nothing less than a menace。〃



〃Quite so。 Now; the English colony at Florence; Miss Honeychurch

and it is of considerable size; though; of course; not all

equallya few are here for trade; for example。 But the greater

part are students。 Lady Helen Laverstock is at present busy over

Fra Angelico。 I mention her name because we are passing her villa

on the left。 No; you can only see it if you standno; do not

stand; you will fall。 She is very proud of that thick hedge。

Inside; perfect seclusion。 One might have gone back six hundred

years。 Some critics believe that her garden was the scene of The

Decameron; which lends it an additional interest; does it not?〃



〃It does indeed!〃 cried Miss Lavish。 〃Tell me; where do they

place the scene of that wonderful seventh day?〃



But Mr。 Eager proceeded to tell Miss Honeychurch that on the

right lived Mr。 Someone Something; an American of the best type

so rare!and that the Somebody Elses were farther down the

hill。 〃Doubtless you know her monographs in the series of

'Mediaeval Byways'? He is working at Gemistus Pletho。 Sometimes

as I take tea in their beautiful grounds I hear; over the wall;

the electric tram squealing up the new road with its loads of hot;

dusty; unintelligent tourists who are going to 'do' Fiesole in an

hour in order that they may say they have been there; and I

thinkthinkI think how little they think what lies so near

them。〃



During this speech the two figures on the box were sporting with

each other disgracefully。 Lucy had a spasm of envy。 Granted that

they wished to misbehave; it was pleasant for them to be able to

do so。 They were probably the only people enjoying the

expedition。 The carriage swept with agonizing jolts up through

the Piazza of Fiesole and into the Settignano road。



〃Piano! piano!〃 said Mr。 Eager; elegantly waving his hand over

his head。



〃Va bene; signore; va bene; va bene;〃 crooned the driver; and

whipped his horses up again。



Now Mr。 Eager and Miss Lavish began to talk against each other on

the subject of Alessio Baldovinetti。 Was he a cause of the

Renaissance; or was he one of its manifestations? The other

carriage was left behind。 As the pace increased to a gallop the

large; slumbering form of Mr。 Emerson was thrown against the

chaplain with the regularity of a machine。



〃Piano! piano!〃 said he; with a martyred look at Lucy。



An extra lurch made him turn angrily in his seat。 Phaethon; who

for some time had been endeavouring to kiss Persephone; had just

succeeded。



A little scene ensued; which; as Miss Bartlett said afterwards;

was most unpleasant。 The horses were stopped; the lovers were

ordered to disentangle themselves; the boy was to lose his

pourboire; the girl was immediately to get down。



〃She is my sister;〃 said he; turning round on them with piteous

eyes。



Mr。 Eager took the trouble to tell him that he was a liar。



Phaethon hung down his head; not at the matter of the accusation;

but at its manner。 At this point Mr。 Emerson; whom the shock of

stopping had awoke; declared that the lovers must on no account

be separated; and patted them on the back to signify his

approval。 And Miss Lavish; though unwilling to ally him; felt

bound to support the cause of Bohemianism。



〃Most certainly I would let them be;〃 she cried。 〃But I dare say

I shall receive scant support。 I have always flown in the face of

the conventions all my life。 This is what I call an adventure。〃



〃We must not submit;〃 said Mr。 Eager。 〃I knew he was trying it

on。 He is treating us as if we were a party of Cook's tourists。〃



〃Surely no!〃 said Miss Lavish; her ardour visibly decreasing。



The other carriage had drawn up behind; and sensible Mr。 Beebe

called out that after this warning the couple would be sure to

behave themselves properly。



〃Leave them alone;〃 Mr。 Emerson begged the chaplain; of whom he

stood in no awe。 〃Do we find happiness so often that we should

turn it off the box when it happens to sit there? To be driven by

lovers A king might envy us; and if we part them it's more

like sacrilege than anything I know。〃



Here the voice of Miss Bartlett was heard saying that a crowd

had begun to collect。



Mr。 Eager; who suffered from an over…fluent tongue rather than a

resolute will; was determined to make himself heard。 He addressed

the driver again。 Italian in the mouth of Italians is a

deep…voiced stream; with unexpected cataracts and boulders to

preserve it from monotony。 In Mr。 Eager's mouth it resembled

nothing so much as an acid whistling fountain which played ever

higher and higher; and quicke

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