九味书屋 > 文学经管电子书 > cw.imarriedadeadman >

第16部分

cw.imarriedadeadman-第16部分

小说: cw.imarriedadeadman 字数: 每页4000字

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!



 〃What are you doing out of the office?〃
 〃I was on my way back just now。 Had to go over and see a man。 And you?〃
 〃I came down to get Mother some imported English yarn she had waiting for her at Bloom's。 Before they send it out; I can be there and back with it。〃
 〃I'll walk with you;〃 he offered。 〃Good excuse to loaf。 As far as the next corner anyhow。〃
 〃That's where I'm taking my bus anyway;〃 she told him。
 They turned and resumed their course; but at the snail's pace she had been maintaining by herself before now。
 He crinkled his nose and squinted upward appreciatively。 〃It does a fellow good to get out in the sun once in awhile。〃
 〃Poor abused man。 I'd like to have a penny for every time you're out of that office during hours。〃
 He chuckled unabashedly。 〃Can I help it if Dad sends me? Of course; I always happen to get right in front of him when he's looking around for someone to do the legwork。〃
 They stopped。
 〃Those're nice;〃 she said appraisingly。
 〃Yes;〃 he agreed。 〃But what are they?〃
 〃You know darned well they're hats。 Don't try to be so superior。〃
 They went on; stopped again。
 〃Is this what they call window…shopping?〃
 〃This is what they call window…shopping。 As if you didn't know。〃
 〃It's fun。 You don't get anywhere。 But you see a lot。〃
 〃You may like it now; because it's a novelty。 Wait 'll you're married and get a lot of it。 You won't like it then。〃
 The next window…display was an offering of fountain pens; a narrow little show…case not more than two or three yards in width。
 She didn't offer to stop there。 It was now he who did; halting her with him as a result。
 〃Wait a minute。 That reminds me。 I need a new pen。 Will you e in with me a minute and help me pick one out?〃
 〃I ought to be getting back;〃 she said halfheartedly。
 〃It'll only take a minute。 I'm a quick buyer。〃
 〃I don't know anything about pens;〃 she demurred。
 〃I don't myself。 That's just it。 Two heads are better than one。〃 He'd taken her lightly by the arm by now; to try to induce her。 〃Ah; e on。 I'm the sort they sell anything to when I'm alone。〃
 〃I don't believe a word of it。 You just want pany;〃 she laughed; but she went inside with him nevertheless。
 He offered her a chair facing the counter。 A case of pens was brought out and opened。 They were discussed between him and the salesman; she taking no active part。 Several were uncapped; filled at a waiting bottle of ink at hand on the counter; and tried out on a pad of scratch…paper; also at hand for that purpose。
 She looked on; trying to show an interest she did not really feel。
 Suddenly he said to her; 〃How do you like the way this writes?〃 and thrust one of them between her fingers and the block of paper under her hand; before she quite knew what had happened。
 Incautiously; her mind on the proportions and weight of the barrel in her grasp; her attention fixed on what sort of a track the nib would leave; whether a broad bold one or a thin wiry one; she put it to the pad。 Suddenly 〃Helen〃 stood there on the topmost leaf; almost as if produced by automatic writing。 Or rather; in the fullest sense of the word; it was just that。 She checked herself just in time to prevent the second name from flowing out of the pen。 It was already on the preliminary upward stroke of a capital G; when she jerked it clear。
 〃Here; let me try it a minute myself。〃 Without warning he'd taken both pen and pad back again; before she could do anything to obliterate or alter what was on it。
 Whether he saw it or not she couldn't tell。 He gave no indication。 Yet it was right there under his eyes; he must have; how could he have failed to?
 He drew a cursory line or two; desisted。
 〃No;〃 he said to the salesman。 〃Let me see that one。〃
 While he was reaching into the case; she managed to deftly peel off the topmost leaf with that damaging 〃Helen〃 on it。 Crumpled it surreptitiously in her hand; dropped it to the floor。
 And then; belatedly; realized that perhaps this was even worse than had she left it on there where it was。 For surely he'd seen it anyway; and now she'd only pointed up the fact that she did not want him to。 In other words; she'd doubly damned herself; first by the error; then by taking such pains to try to efface it。
 Meanwhile; his interest in the matter of pens had all at once flagged。 He looked at the clerk; about to speak; and she could have almost predicted what he was about to say…had he said it…his expression conveyed it so well。 〃Never mind。 I'll stop in again some other time。〃 But then instead he gave her a look; and as though recalled to the necessity for maintaining some sort of plausibility; said hurriedly; almost indifferently; 〃All right; here; make it this one。 Send it over to my office later on。〃
 He scarcely looked at it。 It didn't seem to matter to him which one he took。
 And; she reminded herself; after making such to…do about her ing in with him to help him select one。
 〃Shall we go?〃 he said; a trifle reticently。
 Their parting was strained。 She didn't know whether it was due to him or due to herself。 Or just due to her own imagining。 But it seemed to her to lack the jaunty spontaneity of their meeting just a few minutes ago。
 He didn't thank her for helping him select a pen; and she was grateful for that at least。 But his eyes were suddenly remote; abstracted; where until now they had been wholly on her at every turn of speech。 They seemed to be looking up this way toward the top of a building; looking down that way toward the far end of the street; looking everywhere but at her any more; even while he was saying 〃Here's your bus;〃 and arming her into it; and reaching in from where he stood to pay the driver her fare。 〃Goodbye。 Get home all right See you tonight。〃 And tipped his hat; and seemed to have already forgotten her even before he had pleted the act of turning away and going about his business。 And yet somehow she knew that just the reverse was true。 That he was more conscious of her than ever; now that he seemed least so。 Distance had intervened between them; that was all。
 She looked down at her lap; while the bus swept her along past the crowded sidewalks。 Funny how quickly a scene could change; the same scene; the sunlit pavements and the bustling shoppers weren't fun any more to watch。
 If it had been a premeditated test; a trap… But no; it couldn't have been that。 That much at least she was sure of; though it was no satisfaction。 He couldn't have known that he was going to run into her just where he had; that they were going to walk along just as they had; toward that pen emporium。 At the time he'd left the house this morning; she hadn't even known herself that she was ing downtown like this; that had e up later。 So he couldn't have lain in wait for her there; to accost her。 That much at least had been spontaneous; purely accidental。
 But maybe as they were strolling along; and he first looked up and saw the store sign; that was when it had occurred to him; and he'd improvised it; on the spur of the moment。 What was monly said must have occurred to him then; as it only occurred to her now。 That when people try out a new pen; they invariably write their real names。 It's almost pulsory。
 And yet; even for such an undeliberated; on…the…spot test as that; there must have been some formless suspicion of her already latent in his mind; in one way or another; or it wouldn't have suggested itself to him。
 Little fool; she said to herself bitterly as she tugged at the overhead cord and prepared to alight; why didn't you think of that before you went in there with him? What good was hindsight now?
 A night or two later his discarded coat was slung over a chair and be wasn't in the room with it at the moment。 She needed a pencil for something for a moment anyhow; that was her excuse for it。 She sought the pocket and took out the fountain pen she found clasped to it It was gold and had his initials engraved on it; some valued; long…used birthday or Christmas present from one of his parents probably。 Moreover; it was in perfect writing order; couldn't have been improved on; left a clear; deep; rich trace。 And he wasn't the sort of man who went around displaying two fountain pens at a time。
 It had

返回目录 上一页 下一页 回到顶部 0 0

你可能喜欢的