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a daughter of eve-第15部分
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wrong…doing was far; indeed; never imagined the possibility of going
out of such a world。 No love was ever more innocent or purer than
theirs; but none was ever more enthusiastic or more entrancing in
thought。
The countess was captivated by ideas worthy of the days of chivalry;
though completely modernized。 The glowing conversation of the poet had
more echo in her mind than in her heart。 She thought it fine to be his
providence。 How sweet the thought of supporting by her white and
feeble hand this colossus;whose feet of clay she did not choose to
see; of giving life where life was needed; of being secretly the
creator of a career; of helping a man of genius to struggle with fate
and master it。 Ah! to embroider his scarf for the tournament! to
procure him weapons! to be his talisman against ill…fortune! his balm
for every wound! For a woman brought up like Marie; religious and
noble as she was; such a love was a form of charity。 Hence the
boldness of it。 Pure sentiments often compromise themselves with a
lofty disdain that resembles the boldness of courtesans。
As soon as by her specious distinctions Marie had convinced herself
that she did not in any way impair her conjugal faith; she rushed into
the happiness of loving Raoul。 The least little things of her daily
life acquired a charm。 Her boudoir; where she thought of him; became a
sanctuary。 There was nothing there that did not rouse some sense of
pleasure; even her ink…stand was the coming accomplice in the
pleasures of correspondence; for she would now have letters to read
and answer。 Dress; that splendid poesy of the feminine life; unknown
or exhausted by her; appeared to her eyes endowed with a magic
hitherto unperceived。 It suddenly became clear to her what it is to
most women; the manifestation of an inward thought; a language; a
symbol。 How many enjoyments in a toilet arranged to please HIM; to do
HIM honor! She gave herself up ingenuously to all those gracefully
charming things in which so many Parisian women spend their lives; and
which give such significance to all that we see about them; and in
them; and on them。 Few women go to milliners and dressmakers for their
own pleasure and interest。 When old they never think of adornment。 The
next time you meet in the street a young woman stopping for a moment
to look into a shop…window; examine her face carefully。 〃Will he think
I look better in that?〃 are the words written on that fair brow; in
the eyes sparkling with hope; in the smile that flickers on the lips。
Lady Dudley's ball took place on a Saturday night。 On the following
Monday the countess went to the Opera; feeling certain of seeing
Raoul; who was; in fact; watching for her on one of the stairways
leading down to the stalls。 With what delight did she observe the
unwonted care he had bestowed upon his clothes。 This despiser of the
laws of elegance had brushed and perfumed his hair; his waistcoat
followed the fashion; his cravat was well tied; the bosom of his shirt
was irreproachably smooth。 Raoul was standing with his arms crossed as
if posed for his portrait; magnificently indifferent to the rest of
the audience and full of repressed impatience。 Though lowered; his
eyes were turned to the red velvet cushion on which lay Marie's arm。
Felix; seated in the opposite corner of the box; had his back to
Nathan。
So; in a moment; as it were; Marie had compelled this remarkable man
to abjure his cynicism in the line of clothes。 All women; high or low;
are filled with delight on seeing a first proof of their power in one
of these sudden metamorphoses。 Such changes are an admission of
serfdom。
〃Those women were right; there is a great pleasure in being
understood;〃 she said to herself; thinking of her treacherous friends。
When the two lovers had gazed around the theatre with that glance that
takes in everything; they exchanged a look of intelligence。 It was for
each as if some celestial dew had refreshed their hearts; burned…up
with expectation。
〃I have been here for an hour in purgatory; but now the heavens are
opening;〃 said Raoul's eyes。
〃I knew you were waiting; but how could I help it?〃 replied those of
the countess。
Thieves; spies; lovers; diplomats; and slaves of any kind alone know
the resources and comforts of a glance。 They alone know what it
contains of meaning; sweetness; thought; anger; villainy; displayed by
the modification of that ray of light which conveys the soul。 Between
the box of the Comtesse Felix de Vandenesse and the step on which
Raoul had perched there were barely thirty feet; and yet it was
impossible to wipe out that distance。 To a fiery being; who had
hitherto known no space between his wishes and their gratification;
this imaginary but insuperable gulf inspired a mad desire to spring to
the countess with the bound of a tiger。 In a species of rage he
determined to try the ground and bow openly to the countess。 She
returned the bow with one of those slight inclinations of the head
with which women take from their adorers all desire to continue their
attempt。 Comte Felix turned round to see who had bowed to his wife; he
saw Nathan; but did not bow; and seemed to inquire the meaning of such
audacity; then he turned back slowly and said a few words to his wife。
Evidently the door of that box was closed to Nathan; who cast a
terrible look of hatred upon Felix。
Madame d'Espard had seen the whole thing from her box; which was just
above where Raoul was standing。 She raised her voice in crying bravo
to some singer; which caused Nathan to look up to her; he bowed and
received in return a gracious smile which seemed to say:
〃If they won't admit you there come here to me。〃
Raoul obeyed the silent summons and went to her box。 He felt the need
of showing himself in a place which might teach that little Vandenesse
that fame was every whit as good as nobility; and that all doors
turned on their hinges to admit him。 The marquise made him sit in
front of her。 She wanted to question him。
〃Madame Felix de Vandenesse is fascinating in that gown;〃 she said;
complimenting the dress as if it were a book he had published the day
before。
〃Yes;〃 said Raoul; indifferently; 〃marabouts are very becoming to her;
but she seems wedded to them; she wore them on Saturday;〃 he added; in
a careless tone; as if to repudiate the intimacy Madame d'Espard was
fastening upon him。
〃You know the proverb;〃 she replied。 〃There is no good fete without a
morrow。〃
In the matter of repartees literary celebrities are often not as quick
as women。 Raoul pretended dulness; a last resort for clever men。
〃That proverb is true in my case;〃 he said; looking gallantly at the
marquise。
〃My dear friend; your speech comes too late; I can't accept it;〃 she
said; laughing。 〃Don't be so prudish! Come; I know how it was; you
complimented Madame de Vandenesse at the ball on her marabouts and she
has put them on again for your sake。 She likes you; and you adore her;
it may be a little rapid; but it is all very natural。 If I were
mistaken you wouldn't be twisting your gloves like a man who is
furious at having to sit here with me instead of flying to the box of
his idol。 She has obtained;〃 continued Madame d'Espard; glancing at
his person impertinently; 〃certain sacrifices which you refused to
make to society。 She ought to be delighted with her success;in fact;
I have no doubt she is vain of it; I should be so in her place
immensely。 She was never a woman of any mind; but she may now pass for
one of genius。 I am sure you will describe her in one of those
delightful novels you write。 And pray don't forget Vandenesse; put him
in to please me。 Really; his self…sufficiency is too much。 I can't
stand that Jupiter Olympian air of his;the only mythological
character exempt; they say; from ill…luck。〃
〃Madame;〃 cried Raoul; 〃you rate my soul very low if you think me
capable of trafficking with my feelings; my affections。 Rather than
commit such literary baseness; I would do as they do in England;put
a rope round a woman's neck and sell her in the market。〃
〃But I know Marie; she would like you to do it。〃
〃She is incapable of liking it;〃 said Raoul; vehemently。
〃Oh! then you do know her well?〃
Nathan laughed; he; the maker of scenes; to be trapped into playing
one himself!
〃Comedy is no longer there;〃 he said; nodding at the stage; 〃it is
here; in you。〃
He took his opera…glass and looked about the theatre to recover
countenance。
〃You are not angry with me; I hope?〃 said the marquise; giving him a
sidelong glance。 〃I should have had your secret somehow。 Let us make
peace。 Come and see me; I receive every Wednesday; and I am sure the
dear countess will never miss an evening if I let her know you will be
there。 So I shall be the gainer。 Sometimes she comes between four and
five o'clock; and I'll be kind and add y
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