the crime of sylvestre bonnard(西维斯特·博拉德的罪行)-第38节
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appointment to meet me another day； took his departure after bowing to us
with the most perfect self…possession conceivable。
〃He seems quite a decent lad；〃 I said。
Jeanne turned over a few more pages of Vecellio； and made no answer。
〃Aha！〃 I thought to myself。。。。 And then we went to Saint…Cloud。
September…December。
The regularity with which visit succeeded visit to the old man's house
thereafter made me feel very grateful to Mademoiselle Prefere； who
succeeded at last in winning her right to occupy a special corner in the
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City of Books。 She now says 〃MY chair；〃 〃MY footstool；〃 〃MY pigeon
hole。〃 Her pigeon hole is really a small shelf properly belonging to the
poets of La Champagne； whom she expelled therefrom in order to obtain a
lodging for her work…bag。 She is very amiable； and I must really be a
monster not to like her。 I can only endure herin the severest signification
of the word。 But what would one not endure for Jeanne's sake？ Her
presence lends to the City of Books a charm which seems to hover about it
even after she has gone。 She is very ignorant； but she is so finely gifted
that whenever I show her anything beautiful I am astounded to find that I
had never really seen it before； and that it is she who makes me see it。 I
have found it impossible so far to make her follow some of my ideas； but I
have often found pleasure in following the whimsical and delicate course
of her own。
A more practical man than I would attempt to teach her to make
herself useful； but is not the capacity of being amiable a useful think in life？
Without being pretty； she charms； and the power to charm is perhaps； after
all； worth quite as much as the ability to darn stockings。 Furthermore； I am
not immortal； and I doubt whether she will have become very old when
my notary （who is not Maitre Mouche） shall read to her a certain paper
which I signed a little while ago。
I do not wish that any one except myself should provide for her； and
give her her dowry。 I am not； however； very rich； and the paternal
inheritance did not gain bulk in my hands。 One does not accumulate
money by poring over old texts。 But my booksat the price which such
noble merchandise fetches to…dayare worth something。 Why； on that
shelf there are some poets of the sixteenth century for which bankers
would bid against princes！ And I think that those 〃Heures〃 of Simon
Vostre would not be readily overlooked at the Hotel Sylvestre any more
than would those Preces Piae compiled for the use of Queen Claude。 I
have taken great pains to collect and to preserve all those rare and curious
editions which people the City of Books； and for a long time I used to
believe that they were as necessary to my life as air and light。 I have loved
them well； and even now I cannot prevent myself from smiling at them
and caressing them。 Those morocco bindings are so delightful to the eye！
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These old vellums are so soft to the touch！ There is not a single one
among those books which is not worthy； by reason of some special merit；
to command the respect of an honourable man。 What other owner would
ever know how to dip into hem in the proper way？ Can I be even sure that
another owner would not leave them to decay in neglect； or mutilate them
at the prompting of some ignorant whim？ Into whose hands will fall that
incomparable copy of the 〃Histoire de l'Abbaye de Saint…Germain…des…
Pres；〃 on the margins of which the author himself； in the person of Jacques
Bouillard； made such substantial notes in his own handwriting？。。。 Master
Bonnard； you are an old fool！ Your housekeeperpoor soul！is nailed
down upon her bed with a merciless attack of rheumatism。 Jeanne is to
come with her chaperon； and； instead of thinking how you are going to
receive them； you are thinking about a thousand stupidities。 Sylvestre
Bonnard； you will never succeed at anything in this world； and it is I
myself who tell you so！
And at this very moment I catch sight of them from my window； as
they get out of the omnibus。 Jeanne leaps down lie a kitten； but
Mademoiselle Prefere intrusts herself to the strong arm of the conductor；
with the shy grace of a Virginia recovering after the shipwreck； and this
time quite resigned to being saved。 Jeanne looks up； sees me； laughs； and
Mademoiselle Prefere has to prevent her from waving her umbrella at me
as a friendly signal。 There is a certain stage of cvilisation to which
Mademoiselle Jeanne never can be brought。 You can teach her all the arts
if you like （it is not exactly to Mademoiselle Prefere that I am now
speaking）； but you will never be able to teach her perfect manners。 As a
charming child she makes the mistake of being charming only in her own
way。 Only an old fool like myself could forgive her pranks。 As for young
foolsand there are several of them still to be foundI do not know what
they would think about it； and what they might think is none of my
business。 Just look at her running along the pavement； wrapped in her
cloak； with her hat tilted back on her head； and her feather fluttering in the
wind； like a schooner in full rig！ And really she has a grace of poise and
motion which suggests a fine sailing…vessel so much so； indeed； that she
makes me remember seeing one day； when I was at Havre。。。。 But； Bonnard；
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my friend； how many times is it necessary to tell you that your
housekeeper is in bed； and that you must go and open the door yourself？
Open； Old Man Winter！ 'tis Spring who rings the bell。
It is Jeanne herselfJeanne is all flushed like a rose。 Mademoiselle
Prefere； indignant and out of breath； has still another whole flight to climb
before reaching our lobby。
I explained the condition of my housekeeper； and proposed that we
should dine at a restaurant。 But Thereseall…powerful still； even upon her
sick…beddecided that we should dine at home； whether we wanted to or
no。 Respectable people； in her opinion； never dined at restaurants。
Moreover； she had made all necessary arrangements the dinner had been
bought； the concierge would cook it。
The audacious Jeanne insisted upon going to see whether the old
woman wanted anything。 As you might suppose； she was sent back to the
parlour with short shrift； but not so harshly as I had feared。
〃If I want anybody to do anything for me； which； thank God； I do not；〃
Therese had replied； 〃I would get somebody less delicate and dainty than
you are。 What I want is rest。 That is a merchandise which is not sold at
fairs under the sign of 'Motus with finger on lip。' Go and have your fun；
and don't stay herefor old age might be catching。〃
Jeanne； after telling us what she had said； added that she liked very
much to hear old Therese talk。 Whereupon Mademoiselle Prefere
reproached her for expressing such unladylike tastes。
I tried to excuse her by citing the example of Moliere。 Just at that
moment it came to pass that； while climbing the ladder to get a book； she
upset a whole shelf…row。 There was a heavy crash； and Mademoiselle
Prefere； being； of course； a very delicate person； almost fainted。 Jeanne
quickly followed the books to the foot of the ladder。 she made one think of
a kitten suddenly transformed into a woman； catching mice which had
been transformed into old books。 While picking them up； she found one
which happened to interest her； and she began to read it； squatting down
upon her heels。 It was the 〃Prince Grenouille；〃 she told us。 Mademoiselle
Prefere took occasion to complain that Jeanne had so
