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little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第章

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he had but to hold his tongue; keep the bald part of his head well
polished; and leave his hair alone; had had just cunning enough to seize
the idea and stick to it。 It was said that his being town…agent to
Lord Decimus Tite Barnacle was referable; not to his having the least
business capacity; but to his looking so supremely benignant that nobody
could suppose the property screwed or jobbed under such a man; also;
that for similar reasons he now got more money out of his own wretched
lettings; unquestioned; than anybody with a less nobby and less shining
crown could possibly have done。 In a word; it was represented (Clennam
called to mind; alone in the ticking parlour) that many people select
their models; much as the painters; just now mentioned; select theirs;
and that; whereas in the Royal Academy some evil old ruffian of a
Dog…stealer will annually be found embodying all the cardinal virtues;
on account of his eyelashes; or his chin; or his legs (thereby planting
thorns of confusion in the breasts of the more observant students of
nature); so; in the great social Exhibition; accessories are often
accepted in lieu of the internal character。

Calling these things to mind; and ranging Mr Pancks in a row with them;
Arthur Clennam leaned this day to the opinion; without quite deciding
on it; that the last of the Patriarchs was the drifting Booby aforesaid;
with the one idea of keeping the bald part of his head highly polished:
and that; much as an unwieldy ship in the Thames river may sometimes be
seen heavily driving with the tide; broadside on; stern first; in its
own way and in the way of everything else; though making a great show
of navigation; when all of a sudden; a little coaly steam…tug will bear
down upon it; take it in tow; and bustle off with it; similarly the
cumbrous Patriarch had been taken in tow by the snorting Pancks; and was
now following in the wake of that dingy little craft。

The return of Mr Casby with his daughter Flora; put an end to these
meditations。 Clennam's eyes no sooner fell upon the subject of his old
passion than it shivered and broke to pieces。

Most men will be found sufficiently true to themselves to be true to
an old idea。 It is no proof of an inconstant mind; but exactly the
opposite; when the idea will not bear close parison with the reality;
and the contrast is a fatal shock to it。 Such was Clennam's case。 In his
youth he had ardently loved this woman; and had heaped upon her all the
locked…up wealth of his affection and imagination。 That wealth had been;
in his desert home; like Robinson Crusoe's money; exchangeable with no
one; lying idle in the dark to rust; until he poured it out for her。
Ever since that memorable time; though he had; until the night of his
arrival; as pletely dismissed her from any association with his
Present or Future as if she had been dead (which she might easily
have been for anything he knew); he had kept the old fancy of the Past
unchanged; in its old sacred place。 And now; after all; the last of the
Patriarchs coolly walked into the parlour; saying in effect; 'Be good
enough to throw it down and dance upon it。 This is Flora。'

Flora; always tall; had grown to be very broad too; and short of breath;
but that was not much。 Flora; whom he had left a lily; had bee a
peony; but that was not much。 Flora; who had seemed enchanting in all
she said and thought; was diffuse and silly。 That was much。 Flora; who
had been spoiled and artless long ago; was determined to be spoiled and
artless now。 That was a fatal blow。

This is Flora!

'I am sure;' giggled Flora; tossing her head with a caricature of
her girlish manner; such as a mummer might have presented at her own
funeral; if she had lived and died in classical antiquity; 'I am ashamed
to see Mr Clennam; I am a mere fright; I know he'll find me fearfully
changed; I am actually an old woman; it's shocking to be found out; it's
really shocking!'

He assured her that she was just what he had expected and that time had
not stood still with himself。

'Oh! But with a gentleman it's so different and really you look so
amazingly well that you have no right to say anything of the kind;
while; as to me; you know……oh!' cried Flora with a little scream; 'I am
dreadful!'

The Patriarch; apparently not yet understanding his own part in the
drama under representation; glowed with vacant serenity。

'But if we talk of not having changed;' said Flora; who; whatever
she said; never once came to a full stop; 'look at Papa; is not Papa
precisely what he was when you went away; isn't it cruel and unnatural
of Papa to be such a reproach to his own child; if we go on in this way
much longer people who don't know us will begin to suppose that I am
Papa's Mama!'

That must be a long time hence; Arthur considered。

'Oh Mr Clennam you insincerest of creatures;' said Flora; 'I perceive
already you have not lost your old way of paying pliments; your old
way when you used to pretend to be so sentimentally struck you know……at
least I don't mean that; I……oh I don't know what I mean!' Here Flora
tittered confusedly; and gave him one of her old glances。

The Patriarch; as if he now began to perceive that his part in the piece
was to get off the stage as soon as might be; rose; and went to the door
by which Pancks had worked out; hailing that Tug by name。 He received
an answer from some little Dock beyond; and was towed out of sight
directly。

'You mustn't think of going yet;' said Flora……Arthur had looked at his
hat; being in a ludicrous dismay; and not knowing what to do: 'you could
never be so unkind as to think of going; Arthur……I mean Mr Arthur……or I
suppose Mr Clennam would be far more proper……but I am sure I don't know
what I am saying……without a word about the dear old days gone for ever;
when I e to think of it I dare say it would be much better not to
speak of them and it's highly probable that you have some much more
agreeable engagement and pray let Me be the last person in the world
to interfere with it though there was a time; but I am running into
nonsense again。'

Was it possible that Flora could have been such a chatterer in the
days she referred to? Could there have been anything like her present
disjointed volubility in the fascinations that had captivated him?

'Indeed I have little doubt;' said Flora; running on with astonishing
speed; and pointing her conversation with nothing but mas; and very
few of them; 'that you are married to some Chinese lady; being in China
so long and being in business and naturally desirous to settle and
extend your connection nothing was more likely than that you should
propose to a Chinese lady and nothing was more natural I am sure than
that the Chinese lady should accept you and think herself very well off
too; I only hope she's not a Pagodian dissenter。'

'I am not;' returned Arthur; smiling in spite of himself; 'married to
any lady; Flora。'

'Oh good gracious me I hope you never kept yourself a bachelor so long
on my account!' tittered Flora; 'but of course you never did why should
you; pray don't answer; I don't know where I'm running to; oh do tell me
something about the Chinese ladies whether their eyes are really so long
and narrow always putting me in mind of mother…of…pearl fish at cards
and do they really wear tails down their back and plaited too or is
it only the men; and when they pull their hair so very tight off their
foreheads don't they hurt themselves; and why do they stick little bells
all over their bridges and temples and hats and things or don't they
really do it?' Flora gave him another of her old glances。 Instantly she
went on again; as if he had spoken in reply for some time。

'Then it's all true and they really do! good gracious Arthur!……pray
excuse me……old habit……Mr Clennam far more proper……what a country to live
in for so long a time; and with so many lanterns and umbrellas too how
very dark and wet the climate ought to be and no doubt actually is; and
the sums of money that must be made by those two trades where everybody
carries them and hangs them everywhere; the little shoes too and the
feet screwed back in infancy is quite surprising; 
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