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little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第11部分

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stiff fingers muffled in worsted。 This embrace concluded; he sat down on
the opposite side of her little table。 There was a fire in the grate;
as there had been night and day for fifteen years。 There was a kettle on
the hob; as there had been night and day for fifteen years。 There was a
little mound of damped ashes on the top of the fire; and another little
mound swept together under the grate; as there had been night and day
for fifteen years。 There was a smell of black dye in the airless room;
which the fire had been drawing out of the crape and stuff of the
widow's dress for fifteen months; and out of the bier…like sofa for
fifteen years。

'Mother; this is a change from your old active habits。'

'The world has narrowed to these dimensions; Arthur;' she rep lied;
glancing round the room。 'It is well for me that I never set my heart
upon its hollow vanities。'

The old influence of her presence and her stern strong voice; so
gathered about her son; that he felt conscious of a renewal of the timid
chill and reserve of his childhood。

'Do you never leave your room; mother?'

'What with my rheumatic affection; and what with its attendant debility
or nervous weakness……names are of no matter now……I have lost the use
of my limbs。 I never leave my room。 I have not been outside this door
for……tell him for how long;' she said; speaking over her shoulder。

'A dozen year next Christmas;' returned a cracked voice out of the
dimness behind。

'Is that Affery?' said Arthur; looking towards it。

The cracked voice replied that it was Affery: and an old woman came
forward into what doubtful light there was; and kissed her hand once;
then subsided again into the dimness。

'I am able;' said Mrs Clennam; with a slight motion of her
worsted…muffled right hand toward a chair on wheels; standing before a
tall writing cabi close shut up; 'I am able to attend to my business
duties; and I am thankful for the privilege。 It is a great privilege。
But no more of business on this day。 It is a bad night; is it not?'

'Yes; mother。'

'Does it snow?'

'Snow; mother? And we only yet in September?'

'All seasons are alike to me;' she returned; with a grim kind of
luxuriousness。 'I know nothing of summer and winter; shut up here。

The Lord has been pleased to put me beyond all that。' With her cold grey
eyes and her cold grey hair; and her immovable face; as stiff as the
folds of her stony head…dress;……her being beyond the reach of the
seasons seemed but a fit sequence to her being beyond the reach of all
changing emotions。

On her little table lay two or three books; her handkerchief; a pair of
steel spectacles newly taken off; and an old…fashioned gold watch in a
heavy double case。 Upon this last object her son's eyes and her own now
rested together。

'I see that you received the packet I sent you on my father's death;
safely; mother。'

'You see。'

'I never knew my father to show so much anxiety on any subject; as that
his watch should be sent straight to you。'

'I keep it here as a remembrance of your father。'

'It was not until the last; that he expressed the wish; when he could
only put his hand upon it; and very indistinctly say to me 〃your
mother。〃 A moment before; I thought him wandering in his mind; as he
had been for many hours……I think he had no consciousness of pain in his
short illness……when I saw him turn himself in his bed and try to open
it。'

'Was your father; then; not wandering in his mind when he tried to open
it?'

'No。 He was quite sensible at that time。'

Mrs Clennam shook her head; whether in dismissal of the deceased or
opposing herself to her son's opinion; was not clearly expressed。

'After my father's death I opened it myself; thinking there might be;
for anything I knew; some memorandum there。 However; as I need not tell
you; mother; there was nothing but the old silk watch…paper worked in
beads; which you found (no doubt) in its place between the cases; where
I found and left it。'

Mrs Clennam signified assent; then added; 'No more of business on this
day;' and then added; 'Affery; it is nine o'clock。'

Upon this; the old woman cleared the little table; went out of the room;
and quickly returned with a tray on which was a dish of little rusks and
a small precise pat of butter; cool; symmetrical; white; and plump。 The
old man who had been standing by the door in one attitude during the
whole interview; looking at the mother up…stairs as he had looked at the
son down…stairs; went out at the same time; and; after a longer absence;
returned with another tray on which was the greater part of a bottle
of port wine (which; to judge by his panting; he had brought from the
cellar); a lemon; a sugar…basin; and a spice box。 With these materials
and the aid of the kettle; he filled a tumbler with a hot and
odorous mixture; measured out and pounded with as much nicety as a
physician's prescription。 Into this mixture Mrs Clennam dipped certain
of the rusks; and ate them; while the old woman buttered certain other
of the rusks; which were to be eaten alone。 When the invalid had eaten
all the rusks and drunk all the mixture; the two trays were removed;
and the books and the candle; watch; handkerchief; and spectacles were
replaced upon the table。 She then put on the spectacles and read certain
passages aloud from a book……sternly; fiercely; wrathfully……praying that
her enemies (she made them by her tone and manner expressly hers) might
be put to the edge of the sword; consumed by fire; smitten by plagues
and leprosy; that their bones might be ground to dust; and that they
might be utterly exterminated。 As she read on; years seemed to fall
away from her son like the imaginings of a dream; and all the old dark
horrors of his usual preparation for the sleep of an innocent child to
overshadow him。

She shut the book and remained for a little time with her face shaded by
her hand。 So did the old man; otherwise still unchanged in attitude; so;
probably; did the old woman in her dimmer part of the room。 Then the
sick woman was ready for bed。

'Good night; Arthur。 Affery will see to your acmodation。 Only touch
me; for my hand is tender。' He touched the worsted muffling of her
hand……that was nothing; if his mother had been sheathed in brass there
would have been no new barrier between them……and followed the old man
and woman down…stairs。

The latter asked him; when they were alone together among the heavy
shadows of the dining…room; would he have some supper?

'No; Affery; no supper。'

'You shall if you like;' said Affery。 'There's her tomorrow's partridge
in the larder……her first this year; say the word and I'll cook it。'

No; he had not long dined; and could eat nothing。

'Have something to drink; then;' said Affery; 'you shall have some of
her bottle of port; if you like。 I'll tell Jeremiah that you ordered me
to bring it you。'

No; nor would he have that; either。

'It's no reason; Arthur;' said the old woman; bending over him to
whisper; 'that because I am afeared of my life of 'em; you should be。
You've got half the property; haven't you?'

'Yes; yes。'

'Well then; don't you be cowed。 You're clever; Arthur; an't you?' He
nodded; as she seemed to expect an answer in the affirmative。 'Then
stand up against them! She's awful clever; and none but a clever one
durst say a word to her。 HE'S a clever one……oh; he's a clever one!……and
he gives it her when he has a mind to't; he does!'

'Your husband does?'

'Does? It makes me shake from head to foot; to hear him give it her。 My
husband; Jeremiah Flintother。 What can he
be but a clever one to do that!'

His shuffling footstep ing towards them caused her to retreat to the
other end of the room。 Though a tall; hard…favoured; sinewy old woman;
who in her youth might have enlisted in the Foot Guards without much
fear of discovery; she collapsed before the little keen…eyed crab…like
old man。

'Now; Affery;' said he; 'now; woman; what are you doing? Can't you find
Master Arthur something or another to pick at?'

Master Arthur repeated his recent refusal to pick at anything。

'Very well; then;' said the old man; 'make his bed。 Stir yourself。' His
neck wa
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