the awakening and selected short stories(苏醒)-第42部分
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study； and laid it open upon the desk before which he sat。 She was like a
stone image： silent； white； motionless after she placed it there。
In silence he ran his cold eyes over the written words。
He said nothing。 〃Shall I go； Armand？〃 she asked in tones sharp with
agonized suspense。
〃Yes； go。〃
〃Do you want me to go？〃
〃Yes； I want you to go。〃
He thought Almighty God had dealt cruelly and unjustly with him； and
felt； somehow； that he was paying Him back in kind when he stabbed thus
into his wife's soul。 Moreover he no longer loved her； because of the
unconscious injury she had brought upon his home and his name。
She turned away like one stunned by a blow； and walked slowly
towards the door； hoping he would call her back。
〃Good…by； Armand；〃 she moaned。
He did not answer her。 That was his last blow at fate。
Desiree went in search of her child。 Zandrine was pacing the sombre
gallery with it。 She took the little one from the nurse's arms with no
word of explanation； and descending the steps； walked away； under the
live…oak branches。
It was an October afternoon； the sun was just sinking。 Out in the still
fields the negroes were picking cotton。
Desiree had not changed the thin white garment nor the slippers which
she wore。 Her hair was uncovered and the sun's rays brought a golden
gleam from its brown meshes。 She did not take the broad； beaten road
which led to the far…off plantation of Valmonde。 She walked across a
deserted field； where the stubble bruised her tender feet； so delicately shod；
and tore her thin gown to shreds。
She disappeared among the reeds and willows that grew thick along
the banks of the deep； sluggish bayou； and she did not come back again。
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Some weeks later there was a curious scene enacted at L'Abri。 In the
centre of the smoothly swept back yard was a great bonfire。 Armand
Aubigny sat in the wide hallway that commanded a view of the spectacle；
and it was he who dealt out to a half dozen negroes the material which
kept this fire ablaze。
A graceful cradle of willow； with all its dainty furbishings； was laid
upon the pyre； which had already been fed with the richness of a priceless
layette。 Then there were silk gowns； and velvet and satin ones added to
these； laces； too； and embroideries； bonnets and gloves； for the corbeille
had been of rare quality。
The last thing to go was a tiny bundle of letters； innocent little
scribblings that Desiree had sent to him during the days of their espousal。
There was the remnant of one back in the drawer from which he took them。
But it was not Desiree's； it was part of an old letter from his mother to his
father。 He read it。 She was thanking God for the blessing of her
husband's love：
〃But above all；〃 she wrote； 〃night and day； I thank the good God for
having so arranged our lives that our dear Armand will never know that
his mother； who adores him； belongs to the race that is cursed with the
brand of slavery。〃
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The Awakening and Selected Short Stories
A Respectable Woman
Mrs。 Baroda was a little provoked to learn that her husband expected
his friend； Gouvernail； up to spend a week or two on the plantation。
They had entertained a good deal during the winter； much of the time
had also been passed in New Orleans in various forms of mild dissipation。
She was looking forward to a period of unbroken rest； now； and
undisturbed tete…a…tete with her husband； when he informed her that
Gouvernail was coming up to stay a week or two。
This was a man she had heard much of but never seen。 He had been
her husband's college friend； was now a journalist； and in no sense a
society man or 〃a man about town；〃 which were； perhaps； some of the
reasons she had never met him。 But she had unconsciously formed an
image of him in her mind。 She pictured him tall； slim； cynical； with eye…
glasses； and his hands in his pockets； and she did not like him。
Gouvernail was slim enough； but he wasn't very tall nor very cynical；
neither did he wear eyeglasses nor carry his hands in his pockets。 And
she rather liked him when he first presented himself。
But why she liked him she could not explain satisfactorily to herself
when she partly attempted to do so。 She could discover in him none of
those brilliant and promising traits which Gaston； her husband； had often
assured her that he possessed。 On the contrary； he sat rather mute and
receptive before her chatty eagerness to make him feel at home and in face
of Gaston's frank and wordy hospitality。 His manner was as courteous
toward her as the most exacting woman could require； but he made no
direct appeal to her approval or even esteem。
Once settled at the plantation he seemed to like to sit upon the wide
portico in the shade of one of the big Corinthian pillars； smoking his cigar
lazily and listening attentively to Gaston's experience as a sugar planter。
〃This is what I call living；〃 he would utter with deep satisfaction； as
the air that swept across the sugar field caressed him with its warm and
scented velvety touch。 It pleased him also to get on familiar terms with
the big dogs that came about him； rubbing themselves sociably against his
legs。 He did not care to fish； and displayed no eagerness to go out and
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kill grosbecs when Gaston proposed doing so。
Gouvernail's personality puzzled Mrs。 Baroda； but she liked him。
Indeed； he was a lovable； inoffensive fellow。 After a few days； when she
could understand him no better than at first； she gave over being puzzled
and remained piqued。 In this mood she left her husband and her guest；
for the most part； alone together。 Then finding that Gouvernail took no
manner of exception to her action； she imposed her society upon him；
accompanying him in his idle strolls to the mill and walks along the
batture。 She persistently sought to penetrate the reserve in which he had
unconsciously enveloped himself。
〃When is he goingyour friend？〃 she one day asked her husband。
〃For my part； he tires me frightfully。〃
〃Not for a week yet； dear。 I can't understand； he gives you no
trouble。〃
〃No。 I should like him better if he did； if he were more like others；
and I had to plan somewhat for his comfort and enjoyment。〃
Gaston took his wife's pretty face between his hands and looked
tenderly and laughingly into her troubled eyes。
They were making a bit of toilet sociably together in Mrs。 Baroda's
dressing…room。
〃You are full of surprises； ma belle；〃 he said to her。 〃Even I can
never count upon how you are going to act under given conditions。〃 He
kissed her and turned to fasten his cravat before the mirror。
〃Here you are；〃 he went on； 〃taking poor Gouvernail seriously and
making a commotion over him； the last thing he would desire or expect。〃
〃Commotion！〃 she hotly resented。 〃Nonsense！ How can you say
such a thing？ Commotion； indeed！ But； you know； you said he was
clever。〃
〃So he is。 But the poor fellow is run down by overwork now。 That's
why I asked him here to take a rest。〃
〃You used to say he was a man of ideas；〃 she retorted； unconciliated。
〃I expected him to be interesting； at least。 I'm going to the city in the
morning to have my spring gowns fitted。 Let me know when Mr。
Gouvernail is gone； I shall be at my Aunt Octavie's。〃
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That night she went and sat alone upon a bench that stood beneath a
live oak tree at the edge of the gravel walk。
She had never known her thoughts or her intentions to be so confused。
She could gather nothing from them but the feeling of a distinct necessity
to quit her home in the morning。
Mrs。 Baroda heard footsteps crunching the gravel； but could discern in
the darkness only the approaching red point of a lighted cigar。 She knew
it was Gouvernail； for her husband did not smoke。 She hoped to remain
unnoticed； but her white gown revealed her to him。 He threw away his
cigar and seated himself upon the bench beside her； without a suspicion
that she might object to his presence。
〃Your husband told me to bring this to you； Mrs。 Baroda；〃 he said；
handing her a filmy； white scarf with which
