The story which Philip made out in one way and another was terrible. One of the grievances of the women-students was that Fanny Price would never share their gay meals in restaurants, and the reason was obvious: she had been oppressed by dire poverty. He remembered the luncheon they had eaten together when first he came to Paris and the ghoulish appetite which had disgusted him: he realised now that she ate in that manner because she was ravenous .
The concierge told him what her food had consisted of. A bottle of milk was left for her every day and she brought in her own loaf of bread; she ate half the loaf and drank half the milk at mid-day when she came back from the school, and consumed the rest in the evening. It was the same day after day. Philip thought with anguish of what she must have endured.
She had never given anyone to understand that she was poorer than the rest, but it was clear that her money had been coming to an end, and at last she could not afford to come any more to the studio. The little room was almost bare of furniture, and there were no other clothes than the shabby brown dress she had always worn. Philip searched among her things for the address of some friend with whom he could communicate. He found a piece of paper on which his own name was written a score of times. It gave him a peculiar shock.
He supposed it was true that she had loved him; he thought of the emaciated body, in the brown dress, hanging from the nail in the ceiling; and he shuddered . But if she had cared for him why did she not let him help her? He would so gladly have done all he could. He felt remorseful because he had refused to see that she looked upon him with any particular feeling, and now these words in her letter were infinitely pathetic: I can’t bear the thought that anyone else should touch me. She had died of starvation.
Philip found at length a letter signed: your loving brother, Albert. it was two or three weeks old, dated from some road in Surbiton, and refused a loan of five pounds. The writer had his wife and family to think of, he didn’t feel justified in lending money, and his advice was that Fanny should come back to London and try to get a situation. Philip telegraphed to Albert Price, and in a little while an answer came:
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6
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"深感悲恸。商务繁忙,难以脱身。是否非来不可?普赖斯。"
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6
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‘Deeply distressed . Very awkward to leave my business. Is presence essential. Price.’
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7
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菲利普又去了份简短的电报,请他务必拨冗前来。第二天早上,一个陌生人来画室找他。
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7
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Philip wired a succinctaffirmative, and next morning a stranger presented himself at the studio.
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8
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"我叫普赖斯,"菲利普把门打开,对方自我介绍说。
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8
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‘My name’s Price,’ he said, when Philip opened the door.
He was a commonish man in black with a band round his bowler hat; he had something of Fanny’s clumsy look; he wore a stubblymoustache, and had a cockney accent. Philip asked him to come in. He cast sidelong glances round the studio while Philip gave him details of the accident and told him what he had done.
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10
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"我就不必去看她的遗体了吧,呃?"艾伯特·普赖斯问。"我的神经比较脆弱,受不了一点儿刺激。"
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10
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‘I needn’t see her, need I?’ asked Albert Price. ‘My nerves aren’t very strong, and it takes very little to upset me.’
He began to talk freely. He was a rubber-merchant, and he had a wife and three children. Fanny was a governess, and he couldn’t make out why she hadn’t stuck to that instead of coming to Paris.
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12
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"我和内人都对她说,巴黎可不是姑娘家待的地方。干画画这一行赚不了钱的--历来如此嘛。"
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12
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‘Me and Mrs. Price told her Paris was no place for a girl. And there’s no money in art—never ‘as been.’
It was plain enough that he had not been on friendly terms with his sister, and he resented her suicide as a last injury that she had done him. He did not like the idea that she had been forced to it by poverty; that seemed to reflect on the family. The idea struck him that possibly there was a more respectable reason for her act.
‘I suppose she ‘adn’t any trouble with a man, ‘ad she? You know what I mean, Paris and all that. She might ‘ave done it so as not to disgrace herself.’
Philip had found the brother’s address only by reading the letter in which he refused a loan; but he shrugged his shoulders: there was no use in recrimination. He hated the little man and wanted to have done with him as soon as possible. Albert Price also wished to get through the necessary business quickly so that he could get back to London. They went to the tiny room in which poor Fanny had lived. Albert Price looked at the pictures and the furniture.
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19
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"在艺术方面我可不想充内行,"他说,"我想这些画还对以卖几个子儿的,是吗?"
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19
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‘I don’t pretend to know much about art,’ he said. ‘I suppose these pictures would fetch something, would they?’
Albert Price knew no French and Philip had to do everything. It seemed that it was an interminable process to get the poor body safely hidden away under ground: papers had to be obtained in one place and signed in another; officials had to be seen. For three days Philip was occupied from morning till night. At last he and Albert Price followed the hearse to the cemetery at Montparnasse.
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23
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"我也希望把丧事办得体面些,"艾伯特·普赖斯说,"不过,想想白白把钱往水里扔,实在没意思。"
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23
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‘I want to do the thing decent,’ said Albert Price, ‘but there’s no use wasting money.’
The short ceremony was infinitely dreadful in the cold gray morning. Half a dozen people who had worked with Fanny Price at the studio came to the funeral, Mrs. Otter because she was massiere and thought it her duty, RuthChalice because she had a kind heart, Lawson, Clutton, and Flanagan. They had all disliked her during her life. Philip, looking across the cemetery crowded on all sides with monuments, some poor and simple, others vulgar, pretentious , and ugly, shuddered. It was horribly sordid . When they came out Albert Price asked Philip to lunch with him. Philip loathed him now and he was tired; he had not been sleeping well, for he dreamed constantly of Fanny Price in the torn brown dress, hanging from the nail in the ceiling; but he could not think of an excuse.
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25
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"你领我去一家上等馆子,让咱俩吃顿像样的午餐。这种事儿糟透了,真叫我的神经受不了。"
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25
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‘You take me somewhere where we can get a regular slap-up lunch. All this is the very worst thing for my nerves.’
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26
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"拉夫组餐厅可算是这儿附近最上乘的一家馆子了,"菲利普答道。
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26
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‘Lavenue’s is about the best place round here,’ answered Philip.
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27
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艾伯特·普赖斯在一张天鹅绒靠椅上坐定身子,如释重负地吁了口气。他要了份丰盛的午餐,外加一瓶酒。
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27
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Albert Price settled himself on a velvet seat with a sigh of relief. He ordered a substantial luncheon and a bottle of wine.
He threw out a few artful questions, and Philip discovered that he was eager to hear about the painter’s life in Paris. He represented it to himself as deplorable, but he was anxious for details of the orgies which his fancy suggested to him. With sly winks and discreet sniggering he conveyed that he knew very well that there was a great deal more than Philip confessed. He was a man of the world, and he knew a thing or two. He asked Philip whether he had ever been to any of those places in Montmartre which are celebrated from Temple Bar to the Royal Exchange. He would like to say he had been to the MoulinRouge . The luncheon was very good and the wine excellent. Albert Price expanded as the processes of digestion went satisfactorily forwards.
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30
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"再来点白兰地吧,"咖啡端上餐桌时,他说,"索性破点财罗!"
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30
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‘Let’s ‘ave a little brandy,’ he said when the coffee was brought, ‘and blow the expense.’
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31
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他搓了搓手。
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31
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He rubbed his hands.
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32
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"我说呀,我还真想在这儿过夜,明儿再回去呢。让咱俩一块儿消度今宵,老弟意下如何?"
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32
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‘You know, I’ve got ‘alf a mind to stay over tonight and go back tomorrow. What d’you say to spending the evening together?’
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33
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"你是要我今儿晚上陪你去逛蒙马特尔?见你的鬼去吧!"菲利普说。
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33
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‘If you mean you want me to take you round Montmartre tonight, I’ll see you damned,’ said Philip.
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34
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"我想我不是那个意思。"
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34
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‘I suppose it wouldn’t be quite the thing.’
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35
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他回答得那么一本正经,反倒把菲利普逗乐了。
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35
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The answer was made so seriously that Philip was tickled .
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36
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"再说,你的神经恐怕也消受不了哪,"菲利普神态严肃地说。
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‘Besides it would be rotten for your nerves,’ he said gravely.
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37
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艾伯特·普赖斯最后还是决定搭下午四时的火车回伦敦去,不一会儿,他就和菲利普分手了。
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37
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Albert Price concluded that he had better go back to London by the four o’clock train, and presently he took leave of Philip.
‘Well, good-bye, old man,’ he said. ‘I tell you what, I’ll try and come over to Paris again one of these days and I’ll look you up. And then we won’t ‘alf go on the razzle.’
Philip was too restless to work that afternoon, so he jumped on a bus and crossed the river to see whether there were any pictures on view at Durand-Ruel’s. After that he strolled along the boulevard. It was cold and wind-swept. People hurried by wrapped up in their coats, shrunk together in an effort to keep out of the cold, and their faces were pinched and careworn . It was icy underground in the cemetery at Montparnasse among all those white tombstones.
Philip felt lonely in the world and strangely homesick. He wanted company. At that hour Cronshaw would be working, and Clutton never welcomed visitors; Lawson was painting another portrait of RuthChalice and would not care to be disturbed. He made up his mind to go and see Flanagan. He found him painting, but delighted to throw up his work and talk. The studio was comfortable, for the American had more money than most of them, and warm; Flanagan set about making tea. Philip looked at the two heads that he was sending to the Salon .