Chapter 104

第一百零四章

每隔一周的星期一，莱恩公司都要举办一次社交晚会。菲利普来后第二周就碰上了。他跟部门里的一位女同事约好一同前往。

"对她们要迁就一点，"那位女同事对菲利普说，"就跟我对待她们那样。"

这位女店员叫霍奇斯太太，是个年纪四十有五的半老徐娘，头发染得不三不四，黄脸盘上网着一根根细小的血管，泛黄的眼白衬托着淡蓝色的眸子。她对菲利普颇感兴趣。菲利普进店还不满一个礼拜，她就唤起他的教名来了。

"这样做的结果，你我心中都有数，"霍奇斯太太接着说。

霍奇斯太太对菲利普说，她本来不姓霍奇斯。可说话间，她三句不离一个"我那口子密司脱洛奇斯"。她丈夫虽是个有资格出席高等法庭的律师，可待她却粗鲁极了。她可是那种自由惯了的女人，于是一气之下便离开了她那口子。不过话得说回来，她可尝过有她那口子挨着自己坐在她的马车里的滋味，亲爱的-她叫谁都是亲爱的--因此，他们家吃饭总是很迟。霍奇斯太太习惯用她那根硕大无朋的银胸针针尖剔牙齿。那根胸针打成鞭于和猎鞭交叉的形状，中间还有两个踢马刺。菲利普在这陌生环境里感到很不自在。店里的姑娘们都叫他是"傲慢的家伙"。有一次，一位姑娘叫他一声"菲尔"，可他却没意识到她是在叫自己，所以没有搭理。那姑娘猛地把头往后一仰，骂他是只"骄傲的公鸡"。第二次两人见面时，那姑娘正经八百然而话中带刺地喊了他一声凯里先生。那姑娘名叫朱厄尔，不久将同一位医生结婚。她的女伴们从来没见过那位医生，可她们却一个个都夸他一定是位绅士，因为他送给了朱厄尔小姐很多讨人欢喜的礼物。

"听了她们的话，可千万别往心里去，亲爱的，"霍奇斯太太开导菲利普说。"我过去经历过的事儿，你也得经历经历。她们那些姑娘也可怜得很，懂的东西也不比别人多！你放心吧，不管她们说你什么，你都不要见气，到时她们会喜欢上你的。"

社交晚会是在地下餐厅举行的。餐桌被推在一边，腾出地方让大家跳舞，而小桌子摆得整整齐齐，供人们轮流玩惠斯特牌戏。

"公司里的头头们早早就到会场去了，"霍奇斯太太说。

霍奇斯太太介绍菲利普同班奈特小姐认识。班奈特小姐是莱恩公司超群出众的美人。她是衬裙部的进货员。菲利普走进会场时，她正在同男用针织品部的进货员交谈着。班奈特小姐身材敦实；脸盘又宽又大，上面涂抹着厚厚的脂粉；胸脯沉甸甸的，大有撑破胸衣之势；亚麻色的头发梳理得一丝不乱。她穿着过分讲究，不过收拾得倒还利落，浑身上下一袭黑色衣服，领头高高的。手上戴着光洁的手套，连打牌也不脱。颈脖上套了几条沉重的金链子，双腕戴着手镯，耳朵上挂着两个圆圆的头像垂饰，其中一个是亚历山德拉女王的头像。她手里拎一只黑色的缎子提包，嘴里不住地咀嚼着牛皮糖。

"见到您很高兴，凯里先生，"她说。"您这是首次光临晚会，对不？我想您有点儿局促，不过没必要这样，真的没必要。"

班奈特小姐为了不使人们感到拘束，真是费尽了心机。她不停地拍拍人们的肩头，随后爽朗地哈哈大笑。

"我不是个淘气鬼吧？"她失声叫着，同时把脸转向菲利普，"您对我一定会有看法吧？可我就是忍不住呀。"

凡是来参加晚会的人都到了。绝大多数是年轻店员，其中有至今尚未找到女友的小伙子，也有还没找到可心的小伙子陪自己外出散步的妙龄女郎。有几个年轻人，一副绅土派头，身穿普通西装，佩着雪白的领带，表袋里装着块鲜红的手帕，一个个跃跃欲试，准备在此大显身手。他们有一种忙忙碌碌然而又心不在焉的神气。有的表现出一副信心卜足、踌躇满志的样子，而有的却心急如焚，用一种热切的目光不停地左顾右盼着。不一会儿，一位浓发如云的女郎坐定在钢琴边，十指敏捷地掠过琴键，发出一阵嘈杂的声响。观众们安静下来后，她目光朝四下里扫视了一遍，然后报出歌曲名：

《俄罗斯兜风歌》

那女郎动作灵巧地把铃铛系在手腕上，这当儿，全场爆发出一阵掌声。她报以一笑，随即弹出一曲激越昂扬的曲调。结束时，掌声四起，而且比刚才更为热烈。待大家静下来后，她又演奏了一段描绘大海的小品。只听得一连串轻微的颤音，象征着浪涛拍击海岸；那轰鸣般的和音加上猛地一踩强音踏板，表示暴风雨的来临。此后，一位先生出来唱了首叫《跟我说声再见》的歌，接着又不得不加唱一部催眠曲》。在场的观众鉴赏力高雅，一个个热情洋溢。他们使劲为每一个表演者鼓掌，直到表演者同意加演节目为止。这样，也就没有人会生有厚此薄彼的猜疑。班奈特小姐大模大样地来到菲利普的跟前。

"我相信，您不是会弹琴就是会唱歌，"她狡黠地说。"这从您脸上就可以看出来。"

"恐怕我啥也不会。"

"连朗诵也不会？"

"我可没什么拿手好戏。"

男用针织品部的进货员倒是位有名的朗诵家。他手下的那些店员一个劲儿地点他出来给大家表演朗诵。他们没费多少劲敦促，他便朗诵了一首富有强烈悲剧气氛的长诗。朗诵的当儿，他的眼珠骨碌碌地转动着，一只手搭在胸口，看上去是一副悲恸欲绝的样子。可最后一行诗句泄漏了全诗的主题，原来是说他晚饭没有吃到黄瓜。观众们听后报之以一阵哈哈笑声，不过这笑声有点儿勉强，因为大家对他这首长诗都耳熟能详了。班奈特小姐既没有唱歌，又没有演奏，也没有朗诵。

"喔，她有她自己的一套小把戏，"霍奇斯太太解释说。

"哟，你就别拿我开心啦。不过手相术术和超人的视力方面的事儿，我是知道一点儿的。"

"哎唷，快瞧瞧我的手，班奈特小姐，"班奈特小姐手下的姑娘们争先恐后地喧嚷着，一个个急于讨她的欢心。

"我可不喜欢相手，我真的不喜欢。我曾经对人们说过不少可怕的事情，可后来都一一应验了，这使人变得有点儿迷信了。"

"哦，班奈特小姐，就看这一次。"

一小群人团团围住班奈特小姐。她神秘地讲着有关好人和坏人、一封信里的钞票以及旅途的种种趣闻逸事，人群中不时发出一阵阵尴尬的尖叫声、开心的格格笑声、伤心的欷嘘声和赞叹的欢呼声，还有人因害羞而把脸涨得通红。最后，她讲得粉脸上暴出一颗颗硕大的汗珠。

"瞧我，"她说，"浑身上下汗出得像下雨似的。"

晚饭九点开始，免费供应饼子、面包、三明治、茶叶和咖啡、不过谁想喝矿泉水，得自己掏腰包。年轻人豪爽洒脱，常常敬请女土们喝姜汁酒，而女士们出于礼貌，总是婉言谢绝。唯独班奈特小姐偏偏爱好喝姜汁酒。在晚会上，她总要喝上两瓶，有时甚至喝三瓶，不过她都坚持由自己付钱。那些年轻人就喜欢她这种痛快劲儿。

"她这个老姑娘就是怪，"人们说，"不过，请注意，她人可不环，跟有些女人就是不一样。"

晚饭一吃过，人们就开始玩起升级惠斯特牌戏来了。眨眼之间，餐厅里甚嚣尘上。当人们从一张餐桌移到另一张餐桌时，那叫喊声、欢笑声更是此起彼伏，不绝于耳。班奈特小姐觉得身上越来越热。

"瞧我，"她说道，"浑身上下汗淋淋的。"

不久，一位血气方刚的年轻人站起来说，如果大家还想跳舞，那最好得抓紧时间马上就开始。刚才伴奏的那位女郎一屁股坐在钢琴前，抬起一只脚，毅然决然地踩在强音踏板上。她弹奏了一曲柔和恰神的华尔兹舞曲，用低音打着节拍，同时还隔一会儿就用右手按一按高八度音栓。她还变着法儿，两手交叉地用低音弹奏乐曲。

"她弹得棒极了，对不？"霍奇斯太太对菲利普说。"更棒的是，她从来没上过学，这全凭她耳朵听来的。"

班奈特小姐喜爱舞蹈和诗歌甚于其他一切。她的舞跳得很好，舞步轻缓，双眸流露出一种神情，仿佛她在悠悠沉思。她谈论起地板、热气和晚饭，说话间上气不接下气。她说波特曼宿舍里的地板是全伦敦最高级。的，她就喜欢上那儿去跳舞；那儿的人都是出类拔萃的妙人儿，她才不愿跟那些自己一点不了解的人跳舞呐。嘿，要是那样的话，可能招人嘲笑，自己还不知为了什么呢。差不多在场的每一个人都跳得很出色，都玩得非常痛快。一个个跳得满头大汁，那此年轻人的高领头被汁水泡软了，耷拉了下来。

菲利普在一边袖手旁观。此时，一种前所未有的沮丧感袭上他的心头。他感到孤单寂寞，简直难以忍受。他并没离开晚会，因为他怕显得太傲慢。于是他跟姑娘们在一起说说笑笑，但内心深处却充满了悲戚。班奈特小姐问他是否有女朋友。

"还没有呢，"菲利普微笑着作答。

"哦，嗯，这儿姑娘多的是，有你挑的。她们中间有些是非常好的体面姑娘。我想要不了多久，你会交上女朋友的。"

她目光狡黠地注视着菲利普。

"对她们要造就一点，"霍奇斯太太说，"我刚才就是这样对他说的。"

晚会到十一点钟光景才散。菲利普辗转反侧，不能成眠。和别人一样，他也把酸痛的脚放在被于外面。他使出全身力气，克制自己不去想眼下过的这种生活。此时，耳边传来那个大兵的轻微的鼾声。
 

The social evenings took place on alternate Mondays. There was one at the beginning of Philip’s second week at Lynn’s. He arranged to go with one of the women in his department.

‘Meet ‘em ‘alf-way,’ she said, ‘same as I do.’

This was Mrs. Hodges, a little woman of five-and-forty, with badly dyed hair; she had a yellow face with a network of small red veins all over it, and yellow whites to her pale blue eyes. She took a fancy to Philip and called him by his Christian name before he had been in the shop a week.

‘We’ve both known what it is to come down,’ she said.

She told Philip that her real name was not Hodges, but she always referred to ‘me ‘usband Misterodges;’ he was a barrister and he treated her simply shocking, so she left him as she preferred to be independent like; but she had known what it was to drive in her own carriage, dear—she called everyone dear—and they always had late dinner at home. She used to pick her teeth with the pin of an enormous silver brooch. It was in the form of a whip and a hunting-crop crossed, with two spurs in the middle. Philip was ill at ease in his new surroundings, and the girls in the shop called him ‘sidey.’ One addressed him as Phil, and he did not answer because he had not the least idea that she was speaking to him; so she tossed her head, saying he was a ‘stuck-up thing,’ and next time with ironical emphasis called him Mister Carey. She was a Miss Jewell, and she was going to marry a doctor. The other girls had never seen him, but they said he must be a gentleman as he gave her such lovely presents.

‘Never you mind what they say, dear,’ said Mrs. Hodges. ‘I’ve ‘ad to go through it same as you ‘ave. They don’t know any better, poor things. You take my word for it, they’ll like you all right if you ‘old your own same as I ‘ave.’

The social evening was held in the restaurant in the basement. The tables were put on one side so that there might be room for dancing, and smaller ones were set out for progressive whist.

‘The ‘eads ‘ave to get there early,’ said Mrs. Hodges.

She introduced him to Miss Bennett, who was the belle of Lynn’s. She was the buyer in the ‘Petticoats,’ and when Philip entered was engaged in conversation with the buyer in the ‘Gentlemen’s Hosiery;’ Miss Bennett was a woman of massive proportions, with a very large red face heavily powdered and a bust of imposing dimensions; her flaxen hair was arranged with elaboration. She was overdressed, but not badly dressed, in black with a high collar, and she wore black glace gloves, in which she played cards; she had several heavy gold chains round her neck, bangles on her wrists, and circular photograph pendants, one being of Queen Alexandra; she carried a black satin bag and chewed Sen-sens.

‘Please to meet you, Mr. Carey,’ she said. ‘This is your first visit to our social evenings, ain’t it? I expect you feel a bit shy, but there’s no cause to, I promise you that.’

She did her best to make people feel at home. She slapped them on the shoulders and laughed a great deal.

‘Ain’t I a pickle?’ she cried, turning to Philip. ‘What must you think of me? But I can’t ‘elp meself.’

Those who were going to take part in the social evening came in, the younger members of the staff mostly, boys who had not girls of their own, and girls who had not yet found anyone to walk with. Several of the young gentlemen wore lounge suits with white evening ties and red silk handkerchiefs; they were going to perform, and they had a busy, abstracted air; some were self-confident, but others were nervous, and they watched their public with an anxious eye. Presently a girl with a great deal of hair sat at the piano and ran her hands noisily across the keyboard. When the audience had settled itself she looked round and gave the name of her piece.

‘A Drive in Russia.’

There was a round of clapping during which she deftly fixed bells to her wrists. She smiled a little and immediately burst into energetic melody. There was a great deal more clapping when she finished, and when this was over, as an encore, she gave a piece which imitated the sea; there were little trills to represent the lapping waves and thundering chords, with the loud pedal down, to suggest a storm. After this a gentleman sang a song called Bid me Good-bye, and as an encore obliged with Sing me to Sleep. The audience measured their enthusiasm with a nice discrimination. Everyone was applauded till he gave an encore, and so that there might be no jealousy no one was applauded more than anyone else. Miss Bennett sailed up to Philip.

‘I’m sure you play or sing, Mr. Carey,’ she said archly. ‘I can see it in your face.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t.’

‘Don’t you even recite?’

‘I have no parlour tricks.’

The buyer in the ‘gentleman’s hosiery’ was a well-known reciter, and he was called upon loudly to perform by all the assistants in his department. Needing no pressing, he gave a long poem of tragic character, in which he rolled his eyes, put his hand on his chest, and acted as though he were in great agony. The point, that he had eaten cucumber for supper, was divulged in the last line and was greeted with laughter, a little forced because everyone knew the poem well, but loud and long. Miss Bennett did not sing, play, or recite.

‘Oh no, she ‘as a little game of her own,’ said Mrs. Hodges.

‘Now, don’t you begin chaffing me. The fact is I know quite a lot about palmistry and second sight.’

‘Oh, do tell my ‘and, Miss Bennett,’ cried the girls in her department, eager to please her.

‘I don’t like telling ‘ands, I don’t really. I’ve told people such terrible things and they’ve all come true, it makes one superstitious like.’

‘Oh, Miss Bennett, just for once.’

A little crowd collected round her, and, amid screams of embarrassment, giggles, blushings, and cries of dismay or admiration, she talked mysteriously of fair and dark men, of money in a letter, and of journeys, till the sweat stood in heavy beads on her painted face.

‘Look at me,’ she said. ‘I’m all of a perspiration.’

Supper was at nine. There were cakes, buns, sandwiches, tea and coffee, all free; but if you wanted mineral water you had to pay for it. Gallantry often led young men to offer the ladies ginger beer, but common decency made them refuse. Miss Bennett was very fond of ginger beer, and she drank two and sometimes three bottles during the evening; but she insisted on paying for them herself. The men liked her for that.

‘She’s a rum old bird,’ they said, ‘but mind you, she’s not a bad sort, she’s not like what some are.’

After supper progressive whist was played. This was very noisy, and there was a great deal of laughing and shouting, as people moved from table to table. Miss Bennett grew hotter and hotter.

‘Look at me,’ she said. ‘I’m all of a perspiration.’

In due course one of the more dashing of the young men remarked that if they wanted to dance they’d better begin. The girl who had played the accompaniments sat at the piano and placed a decided foot on the loud pedal. She played a dreamy waltz, marking the time with the bass, while with the right hand she ‘tiddled’ in alternate octaves. By way of a change she crossed her hands and played the air in the bass.

‘She does play well, doesn’t she?’ Mrs. Hodges remarked to Philip. ‘And what’s more she’s never ‘ad a lesson in ‘er life; it’s all ear.’

Miss Bennett liked dancing and poetry better than anything in the world. She danced well, but very, very slowly, and an expression came into her eyes as though her thoughts were far, far away. She talked breathlessly of the floor and the heat and the supper. She said that the Portman Rooms had the best floor in London and she always liked the dances there; they were very select, and she couldn’t bear dancing with all sorts of men you didn’t know anything about; why, you might be exposing yourself to you didn’t know what all. Nearly all the people danced very well, and they enjoyed themselves. Sweat poured down their faces, and the very high collars of the young men grew limp.

Philip looked on, and a greater depression seized him than he remembered to have felt for a long time. He felt intolerably alone. He did not go, because he was afraid to seem supercilious, and he talked with the girls and laughed, but in his heart was unhappiness. Miss Bennett asked him if he had a girl.

‘No,’ he smiled.

‘Oh, well, there’s plenty to choose from here. And they’re very nice respectable girls, some of them. I expect you’ll have a girl before you’ve been here long.’

She looked at him very archly.

‘Meet ‘em ‘alf-way,’ said Mrs. Hodges. ‘That’s what I tell him.’

It was nearly eleven o’clock, and the party broke up. Philip could not get to sleep. Like the others he kept his aching feet outside the bed-clothes. He tried with all his might not to think of the life he was leading. The soldier was snoring quietly.