《[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版》

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[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版- 第36部分


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get tired of;” she replied。 

The idea of a cottage where one grew one’s own vegetables 
and lived on fifteen shillings a week; filled Ralph 
with an extraordinary sense of rest and satisfaction。 

“But wouldn’t it be on the main road; or next door to a 
woman with six squalling children; who’d always be hanging 
her washing out to dry across your garden?” 

“The cottage I’m thinking of stands by itself in a little 
orchard。” 

“And what about the Suffrage?” he asked; attempting 
sarcasm。 

“Oh; there are other things in the world besides the 
Suffrage;” she replied; in an offhand manner which was 
slightly mysterious。 

Ralph fell silent。 It annoyed him that she should have 
plans of which he knew nothing; but he felt that he had 

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no right to press her further。 His mind settled upon the 
idea of life in a country cottage。 Conceivably; for he could 
not examine into it now; here lay a tremendous possibility; 
a solution of many problems。 He struck his stick upon 
the earth; and stared through the dusk at the shape of 
the country。 

“D’you know the points of the pass?” he asked。 

“Well; of course;” said Mary。 “What d’you take me for?— 
a Cockney like you?” She then told him exactly where the 
north lay; and where the south。 

“It’s my native land; this;” she said。 “I could smell my 
way about it blindfold。” 

As if to prove this boast; she walked a little quicker; so 
that Ralph found it difficult to keep pace with her。 At the 
same time; he felt drawn to her as he had never been 
before; partly; no doubt; because she was more independent 
of him than in London; and seemed to be attached 
firmly to a world where he had no place at all。 Now the 
dusk had fallen to such an extent that he had to follow 
her implicitly; and even lean his hand on her shoulder 
when they jumped a bank into a very narrow lane。 And he 

felt curiously shy of her when she began to shout through 
her hands at a spot of light which swung upon the mist 
in a neighboring field。 He shouted; too; and the light 
stood still。 

“That’s Christopher; e in already; and gone to feed 
his chickens;” she said。 

She introduced him to Ralph; who could see only a tall 
figure in gaiters; rising from a fluttering circle of soft feathery 
bodies; upon whom the light fell in wavering discs; 
calling out now a bright spot of yellow; now one of greenish
black and scarlet。 Mary dipped her hand in the bucket 
he carried; and was at once the center of a circle also; and 
as she cast her grain she talked alternately to the birds 
and to her brother; in the same clucking; halfinarticulate 
voice; as it sounded to Ralph; standing on the outskirts of 
the fluttering feathers in his black overcoat。 

He had removed his overcoat by the time they sat round 
the dinnertable; but nevertheless he looked very strange 
among the others。 A country life and breeding had preserved 
in them all a look which Mary hesitated to call 
either innocent or youthful; as she pared them; now 

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Virginia Woolf 

sitting round in an oval; softly illuminated by candlelight; 
and yet it was something of the kind; yes; even in 
the case of the Rector himself。 Though superficially marked 
with lines; his face was a clear pink; and his blue eyes 
had the longsighted; peaceful expression of eyes seeking 
the turn of the road; or a distant light through rain; 
or the darkness of winter。 She looked at Ralph。 He had 
never appeared to her more concentrated and full of purpose; 
as if behind his forehead were massed so much 
experience that he could choose for himself which part 
of it he would display and which part he would keep to 
himself。 pared with that dark and stern countenance; 
her brothers’ faces; bending low over their soupplates; 
were mere circles of pink; unmolded flesh。 

“You came by the 3。10; Mr。 Denham?” said the Reverend 
Wyndham Datchet; tucking his napkin into his collar; 
so that almost the whole of his body was concealed by a 
large white diamond。 “They treat us very well; on the 
whole。 Considering the increase of traffic; they treat us 
very well indeed。 I have the curiosity sometimes to count 
the trucks on the goods’ trains; and they’re well over fifty— 

well over fifty; at this season of the year。” 

The old gentleman had been roused agreeably by the 
presence of this attentive and wellinformed young man; 
as was evident by the care with which he finished the last 
words in his sentences; and his slight exaggeration in the 
number of trucks on the trains。 Indeed; the chief burden of 
the talk fell upon him; and he sustained it tonight in a 
manner which caused his sons to look at him admiringly 
now and then; for they felt shy of Denham; and were glad 
not to have to talk themselves。 The store of information 
about the present and past of this particular corner of 
Lincolnshire which old Mr。 Datchet produced really surprised 
his children; for though they knew of its existence; 
they had forgotten its extent; as they might have forgotten 
the amount of family plate stored in the platechest; 
until some rare celebration brought it forth。 

After dinner; parish business took the Rector to his 
study; and Mary proposed that they should sit in the 
kitchen。 

“It’s not the kitchen really;” Elizabeth hastened to explain 
to her guest; “but we call it so—” 

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Night and Day 

“It’s the nicest room in the house;” said Edward。 

“It’s got the old rests by the side of the fireplace; where 
the men hung their guns;” said Elizabeth; leading the 
way; with a tall brass candlestick in her hand; down a 
passage。 “Show Mr。 Denham the steps; Christopher… 。 
When the Ecclesiastical missioners were here two years 
ago they said this was the most interesting part of the 
house。 These narrow bricks prove that it is five hundred 
years old—five hundred years; I think—they may have 
said six。” She; too; felt an impulse to exaggerate the age 
of the bricks; as her father had exaggerated the number 
of trucks。 A big lamp hung down from the center of the 
ceiling and; together with a fine log fire; illuminated a 
large and lofty room; with rafters running from wall to 
wall; a floor of red tiles; and a substantial fireplace built 
up of those narrow red bricks which were said to be five 
hundred years old。 A few rugs and a sprinkling of armchairs 
had made this ancient kitchen into a sittingroom。 
Elizabeth; after pointing out the gunracks; and the hooks 
for smoking hams; and other evidence of incontestable 
age; and explaining that Mary had had the idea of turn


ing the room into a sittingroom—otherwise it was used 
for hanging out the wash and for the men to change in 
after shooting—considered that she had done her duty 
as hostess; and sat down in an upright chair directly beneath 
the lamp; beside a very long and narrow oak table。 
She placed a pair of horn spectacles upon her nose; and 
drew towards her a basketful of threads and wools。 In a 
few minutes a smile came to her face; and remained there 
for the rest of the evening。 

“Will you e out shooting with us tomorrow?” said 
Christopher; who had; on the whole; formed a favorable 
impression of his sister’s friend。 

“I won’t shoot; but I’ll e with you;” said Ralph。 

“Don’t you care about shooting?” asked Edward; whose 
suspicions were not yet laid to rest。 

“I’ve never shot in my life;” said Ralph; turning and 
looking him in the face; because he was not sure how 
this confession would be received。 

“You wouldn’t have much chance in London; I suppose;” 
said Christopher。 “But won’t you find it rather dull—just 
watching us?” 

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Virginia Woolf 

“I shall watch birds;” Ralph replied; with a smile。 

“I can show you the place for watching birds;” said 
Edward; “if that’s what you like doing。 I know a fellow 
who es down from London about this time every year 
to watch them。 It’s a great place for the wild geese and 
the ducks。 I’ve heard this man say that it’s one of the 
best places for birds in the country。” 

“It’s about the best place in England;” Ralph replied。 
They were all gratified by this praise of their native county; 
and Mary now had the pleasure of hearing these short 
questions and answers lose their undertone of suspicious 
inspection; so far as her brothers were concerned; and 
develop into a genuine conversation about the habits of 
birds which afterwards turned to a discussion as to the 
habits of solicitors; in which it was scarcely necessary for 
her to take part。 She was pleased to see that her brothers 
liked Ralph; to the extent; that is; of wishing to secure 
his good opinion。 Whether or not he liked them it was 
impossible to tell from his kind but experienced manner。 
Now and then she fed the fire with a fresh log; and as the 
room filled with the fine; dry heat of burning wood; they 

all; with the exception of Elizabeth; who was outside the 
range of the fire; felt less and less anxious about the 
effect they were making; and more and more inclined for 
sleep。 At this moment a vehement scratching was heard 
on the door。 

“Piper!—oh; damn!—I shall have to get up;” murmured 
Christopher。 

“It’s not Piper; it’s Pitch;” Edward grunted。 

“All the same; I shall have to get up;” Christopher 
grumbled。 He let in the dog; and stood for a moment by 
the door; which opened into the garden; to revive himself 
with a draught of the black; starlit air。 

“Do e in and shut the door!” Mary cried; half turning 
in her chair。 

“We shall have a fine day tomorrow;” said Christopher 
with placency; and he sat himself on the floor at her 
feet; and leant his back against her knees; and stretched 
out his long stockinged legs to the fire—all signs that he 
felt no longer any restraint at the presence of the stranger。 
He was the youngest of the family; and Mary’s favorite; partly 
because his character resembled hers; as Edward’s character 

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Night and Day 

resembled Elizabeth’s。 She made her knees a fortable 
rest for his head; and ran h

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