第五十八章
第二天菲利普一早醒来，首先想到的就是米尔德丽德。他忽然生出个念头：何不去维多利亚车站接她，然后陪她走一程，送她去店里上班。菲利普赶紧刮了脸，匆匆穿好衣服，出门跳上去火车站的公共汽车。七点四十分他到达车站，仔细留神着一列列进站的火车，只见熙熙攘攘的人流不断地从车厢里涌出来。早上这时候，乘车的净是些赶去上班的职员和店员。他们拥上月台，匆匆前行，有成双结对的，也有只身独行的（为数较多），还不时看到三五成群的姑娘。在这大清早，人人脸色苍白，多数人显得丑陋，带着一副神不守舍的恍馏神情。年轻人脚步轻快，仿佛在水泥月台上行走尚有几分乐趣，其他的人则像受到某种机器的驱策，只顾埋头赶路：他们个个愁眉锁眼，露出一脸的焦虑。
菲利普终于看到了米尔德丽德。他急不可待地迎了上去。
"早安！"他说，"我想最好来看看你，不知你昨晚看戏之后身子可好。"
不难看出，她很不高兴在这儿遇见菲利普。她穿件棕色长外套，戴顶水手草帽。
"噢，我身体蛮好。我可没有时间磨蹭。"
"让我陪你沿维多利亚街走一程，你不介意吧？"
"时间不早了，我得抓紧赶路，"说着，朝菲利普的跛足望了一眼。
菲利普刷地红了脸。
"对不起，那我就不耽搁你了。"
"请便。"
米尔德丽德径自往前走去，菲利普垂头丧气地回家来吃早点。他恨死了米尔德丽德。他知道自己这么为她神魂颠倒，实在傻透了。像她这。种女人，断然不会把自己放在眼里，而且一定会对自己的残疾心生厌恶。菲利普狠了狠心，决定下午不再去那点心店吃茶点。可到时候他还是身。不由己地去了。这不能不叫他痛恨自己。米尔德丽德见他进来，便朝他点头一笑。
"我想，今天早晨对你有些失礼，"她说。"你得知道，我压根儿没想到你会来，太出人意外了。"
"噢，一点没关系。"
他只感到周身上下突然一阵轻松。这么短短的一句体己话，足以使他感激涕零。
"干吗不坐下？"菲利普说，"这会儿又没人要你照应。"
"就坐一会儿吧，反正我不在乎。"
菲利普望着她，一时却想不出话来说。他搜索枯肠，急于想找个话题，能把她留在自己身边。他想告诉米尔德丽德，说她在自己心里占有多一重要的位置。菲利普这一回真心实意地爱上了，反倒口中讷讷，不知该如何向心上人求爱。
"你那位蓄着漂亮小胡子的朋友哪儿去了？近来怎么一直没见着他。"
"噢，他回伯明翰去了。他是在那儿做生意的。只是偶尔上伦敦来走一趟。"
"他爱上你了吧？"
"这你最好去问他本人，"她哈哈一笑。"我倒不明白，就算他真爱上我了，跟你又有何相干。"
一句挖苦的话已冒到了舌尖，但是他已学会了自我克制。
"真不明白为什么要冲着我说这种话，"结果他只是说了这么一句。
米尔德丽德用她那双冷冰冰的眼睛瞅着菲利普。
"看来你并不怎么把我放在眼里，"菲利普又加了一句。
"我干吗非要把你放在眼里呢？"
"确实没有这个必要。"
菲利普伸手去拿自己带来的报纸。
"你这个人脾气真大，"米尔德丽德看到菲利普不以为然的姿态，说，"动不动就生别人的气。"
菲利普微微一笑，带着几分恳求的神情望着米尔德丽德。
"你肯赏脸帮我个忙吗？"
"那得看是什么事了。"
"允许我今晚送你去火车站。"
"随你的便。"
吃完茶点，菲利普走出餐馆回自己住所去了。到了晚上八点，点心店打烊了，他等候在店门外。
"你真是个怪人，"米尔德丽德走出门来说道，"我一点摸不透你的心思。"
"果真想摸透我的心思，我看也不难吧，"菲利普不无挖苦地回答说。
"你在这儿等我，有没有被店里别的姑娘看到？"
"我不知道，反正我不在乎。"
"你要知道，她们都在笑话你哪，说你被我迷住了。"
"你才不把我放在心上呢，"菲利普咕哝道。
"瞧你又想跟我斗嘴了。"
到了车站后，菲利普买了一张车票，说要送她回家。
"你似乎闲得没事干了，"她说。
"我想时间是我自己的，我爱怎么打发就怎么打发。"
他俩似乎老是有意在抬杠。事实上是菲利普怨恨自己，竟爱上了这样一个女人。她似乎老在侮辱他，而他每受到一回冷遇，心里的怨恨就增加一分。但是那天晚上，米尔德丽德倒挺随和，话也比平日多。她告诉菲利普，她的双亲都已过世。她有意要让菲利普知道，她无须挣钱糊口，她出门干活无非是为了找点乐趣，解解闷罢了。
"我姨妈不赞成我出来找活儿干。我家里并不愁吃少穿，样样都挺称心。你可别以为我是不得已才出来混饭吃的。"
菲利普心里明白她没说实话。她那个阶层的人本来就喜欢摆架子充阔，而她呢，当然也生怕人家说她是挣钱糊口，面子上不好看，所以定要编出一套词儿来。
"我们家的亲戚也都是体体面面的，"她说。
菲利普淡然一笑，哪知未能逃过米尔德丽德的眼睛。
"你笑什么？"她当即责问说，"你以为我讲的不是实话？"
"我当然相信你说的，"他回答道。
米尔德丽德用怀疑的目光打量着菲利普。过了一会儿，她又忍不住要向菲利普炫耀一下自己往昔的荣华。
"我父亲常年备有一辆双轮马车，家里雇有三个男仆，一个厨师，一个女仆，还有一个打杂的短工。我们家院子里种着美丽的玫瑰花，打我们家门口经过的行人，常常驻足而立，打听这是谁家的住宅，说那些玫瑰真美。当然罗，让自己跟店里那些姑娘整天厮混在一起，实在不是个滋味，我同那号人实在合不来，所以有时候我真想洗手不干了。店里活儿我倒不在乎，你可别这样想我，我讨厌的是同那一流人物为伍。"
他们面对面地坐在车厢里，菲利普颇表同情地听米尔德丽德絮絮而谈，心里相当快活。她的天真幼稚，不但使他觉得有趣，而且使他有所触动。米尔德丽德的两腮泛起淡淡的红晕，菲利普心想，要是这时能吻一下她的下巴尖，那该有多美。
"你一进我们的店门，我就看出你是个道道地地的上等人。你父亲是个干体面职业的行家吧？"
"是个医生。"
"凡是干体面职业的行家，我一眼就能认出来。他们身上总有点与众不同的地方。究竟是什么，我也说不清，反正一看就知道了。"
他俩一块儿从车站走出来。
"喂，我想请你再陪我去看一场戏。"
"我没意见。"
"你就不可以说一声'我很想去呢'？"
"干吗非要那么说？"
"不肯说就不说吧。让咱们定个时间。星期六晚上你看行不行？"
"行。"
接着他俩又作进一步的安排，边走边说，不觉已来到米尔德丽德所住大街的拐角上。她朝菲利普伸出手来，菲利普一把握住了。
"哎，我真想就叫你米尔德丽德。"
"要是你喜欢，就这么叫吧，反正我不在乎。"
"你也叫我菲利普，好吗？"
"要是到时候我能想起来，我就这么叫你。不过叫你凯里先生似乎更顺口些。"
菲利普轻轻把她往自己的身边拉，但是她却往后一仰。
"你要干哈？"
"难道你不愿在分手之前亲我一下？"他低声说。
"好放肆！"她说。
米尔德丽德猛然将手抽回，匆匆地朝自己家走去。
菲利普买好了星期六晚上的戏票。那天不是米尔德丽德早下班的日子，所以她没时间赶回家去更衣，故打算早上出门时随身带件外套，下了班就在店里匆匆换上。要是碰上女经理心里高兴，说不定还能让米尔德丽德在七点钟就提前下班。菲利普答应七点一刻就开始在点心店外面等候。他心急火燎地盼着这次出游机会，因为他估计看完戏之后，在搭乘马车去火车站的途中，米尔德丽德会让他吻一下的。坐在马车上，男人伸手去勾位姑娘的腰肢，那是再方便不过了（这可是马车比现代出租汽车略胜一筹的地方）；光凭这点乐趣，一晚上破费再多也值得。
谁知到了星期六下午，就在菲利普进店吃茶点，想进一步敲定晚上的约会时，碰上了那个蓄漂亮小胡子的男人从店里走出来。菲利普现在已知道他叫米勒，是个入了英国籍的德国人，已在英国呆了好多年，连自己的名字也英国化了。菲利普以前听过他说话，他虽然能操一口流利、道地的英语，可语腔语调毕竟和土生土长的英国人有所不同。菲利普知道他在同米尔德丽德调情，所以对他怀有一股强烈的妒意。幸亏米尔德丽德生性冷淡，他心里还觉得好受些，要是她性格开放，那更叫他伤心呢。他想，既然米尔德丽德不易动情，那位情敌的境遇决不会比他更顺心。不过菲利普此刻心头咯噔往下沉，因为他立刻想到，米勒的突然露面可能会影响到他几天来所梦牵魂萦的这一趟出游。他走进店门，心里七上八下翻腾着。那女招待走到他跟前，问他要些什么茶点，不一会儿就给端来了。
"很抱歉，"她说，脸上确实很有几分难过的神情，"今儿晚上我实在去不了啦。"
"为什么？"
"何必为这点事板起脸来呢？"她笑着说。"这又不是我的过错。我姨妈昨晚病倒了，今晚又逢到女仆放假，所以我得留在家里陪她。总不能把她一个人丢在家里不管，你说是吗？"
"没关系。咱们就别去看戏，我送你回家得了。"
"可你票子已买好了，浪费了多可惜。"
菲利普从口袋里掏出戏票，当着她的面撕了。
"你这是干吗？"
"你想想，我一个人岂会去看那种无聊透顶的喜歌剧？我去看那玩意儿，还不完全是为了你！"
"即使你当真想送我回家，我也不要你送。"
"怕是另有所约吧。"
"我不明白你这话是什么意思。你和天底下的男人一样自私，光想到自己。我姨妈身子不舒服，总不能怪我吧。"
米尔德丽德说罢，随手开了帐单，转身走开了。菲利普太不了解女人，否则他就懂得，遇到这种事儿，哪怕是再明显不过的谎言，也最好装聋作哑，姑且信之。他打定主意，非要守在点心店附近，看看米尔德丽德是不是同那德国佬一块儿出去。这也是他的不幸之处，事事都想要查个水落石出。到了七点，菲利普守在点心店对面的人行道上，东张西望，四下搜寻，却不见米勒的影子。十分钟不到，只见米尔德丽德从店内出来，她身披斗篷，头裹围巾，同那天菲利普带她上谢夫蒂斯贝利戏院时一样穿戴。此刻她显然不是回家去。菲利普躲闪不及，被米尔德丽德一眼看到了。她先是一怔，然后径直朝他走来。
"你在这儿干吗？"她说。
"透透空气嘛，"菲利普回答说。
"你在监视我呢，你这个卑鄙小人。我还当你是正人君子呢。"
"你以为正人君子会对你这号人发生兴趣？"菲利普咕哝道。
他憋了一肚子火，实在按捺不住，哪怕是闹到不可收拾的地步也在所不惜。他要以牙还牙，也狠狠地伤一下她的心。
"我想只要我高兴，为什么不可以改变主意。凭哪一点我非要跟你出去。告诉你，我现在要回家去，不许你盯我的梢，不许你监视我。"
"你今天见到米勒了？"
"那不关你的事。事实上我并没见到他，瞧你又想到哪儿去了。"
"今天下午我见到他了。我走进店门时，他刚巧走出来。"
"他来过了又怎么样？要是我愿意，我完全可以同他出去，对不对？我不明白你有什么好罗唆的？"
"他叫你久等了吧？"
"哟，我宁愿等他，也不愿意要你等我。劝你好好考虑我的话。你现在最好还是回家去，忙你自己的前程大事吧。"
菲利普情绪骤变，满腔愤怒突然化为一片绝望，说话时连声音也发抖了。
"我说，别对我这么薄情寡义，米尔德丽德。你知道我多喜欢你。我想我是打心底里爱着你。难道你还不肯回心转意？我眼巴巴地好不容易盼到今晚。你瞧，他没来。他根本就没把你放在心上。跟我去吃饭好吗？我再去搞两张戏票来，你愿意上哪儿，咱们就上哪儿。"
"告诉你，我不愿意。随你怎么说也是白搭。现在我已经打定了主意，而我一旦主意已定，就决不会再改变。"
菲利普愣愣地望着她，心像刀剐似地难受。人行道上，熙来攘往的人群在他们身旁匆匆而过，马车和公共汽车川流不息，不断地发出辚辚之声。他发现米尔德丽德正在那里左顾右盼，那神情分明是唯恐看漏了夹在人群之中的米勒。
"我受不了啦，"菲利普呻吟着说。"老是这么低三下四的，多丢人。现在我如果去了，今后再不会来找你。除非你今晚跟我走，否则你再见不着我了。"
"你大概以为这么一说，就能把我吓住，是吗？老实对你说了吧：没有你在跟前，我眼前才清静呢。"
"好，咱们就此一刀两断。"
菲利普点点头，拐着条腿走开了，他脚步放得很慢，心里巴不得米尔德丽德招呼他回去。走过一根路灯杆，他收住脚步，回首顾盼，心想她说不定会招手唤他回去--他愿意不记前隙，愿意忍受任何屈辱--然而她早已转身走开，显然她根本就没把他放在心上。菲利普这才明白过来，米尔德丽德巴不得能把他甩掉呢。
LVIII
Philip woke early next morning, and his first thought was of Mildred. It struck him that he might meet her at Victoria Station and walk with her to the shop. He shaved quickly, scrambled into his clothes, and took a bus to the station. He was there by twenty to eight and watched the incoming trains. Crowds poured out of them, clerks and shop-people at that early hour, and thronged up the platform: they hurried along, sometimes in pairs, here and there a group of girls, but more often alone. They were white, most of them, ugly in the early morning, and they had an abstracted look; the younger ones walked lightly, as though the cement of the platform were pleasant to tread, but the others went as though impelled by a machine: their faces were set in an anxious frown.
At last Philip saw Mildred, and he went up to her eagerly.
‘Good-morning,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d come and see how you were after last night.’
She wore an old brown ulster and a sailor hat. It was very clear that she was not pleased to see him.
‘Oh, I’m all right. I haven’t got much time to waste.’
‘D’you mind if I walk down Victoria Street with you?’
‘I’m none too early. I shall have to walk fast,’ she answered, looking down at Philip’s club-foot.
He turned scarlet.
‘I beg your pardon. I won’t detain you.’
‘You can please yourself.’
She went on, and he with a sinking heart made his way home to breakfast. He hated her. He knew he was a fool to bother about her; she was not the sort of woman who would ever care two straws for him, and she must look upon his deformity with distaste. He made up his mind that he would not go in to tea that afternoon, but, hating himself, he went. She nodded to him as he came in and smiled.
‘I expect I was rather short with you this morning,’ she said. ‘You see, I didn’t expect you, and it came like a surprise.’
‘Oh, it doesn’t matter at all.’
He felt that a great weight had suddenly been lifted from him. He was infinitely grateful for one word of kindness.
‘Why don’t you sit down?’ he asked. ‘Nobody’s wanting you just now.’
‘I don’t mind if I do.’
He looked at her, but could think of nothing to say; he racked his brains anxiously, seeking for a remark which should keep her by him; he wanted to tell her how much she meant to him; but he did not know how to make love now that he loved in earnest.
‘Where’s your friend with the fair moustache? I haven’t seen him lately"
‘Oh, he’s gone back to Birmingham. He’s in business there. He only comes up to London every now and again.’
‘Is he in love with you?’
‘You’d better ask him,’ she said, with a laugh. ‘I don’t know what it’s got to do with you if he is.’
A bitter answer leaped to his tongue, but he was learning self-restraint.
‘I wonder why you say things like that,’ was all he permitted himself to say.
She looked at him with those indifferent eyes of hers.
‘It looks as if you didn’t set much store on me,’ he added.
‘Why should I?’
‘No reason at all.’
He reached over for his paper.
‘You are quick-tempered,’ she said, when she saw the gesture. ‘You do take offence easily.’
He smiled and looked at her appealingly.
‘Will you do something for me?’ he asked.
‘That depends what it is.’
‘Let me walk back to the station with you tonight.’
‘I don’t mind.’
He went out after tea and went back to his rooms, but at eight o’clock, when the shop closed, he was waiting outside.
‘You are a caution,’ she said, when she came out. ‘I don’t understand you.’
‘I shouldn’t have thought it was very difficult,’ he answered bitterly.
‘Did any of the girls see you waiting for me?’
‘I don’t know and I don’t care.’
‘They all laugh at you, you know. They say you’re spoony on me.’
‘Much you care,’ he muttered.
‘Now then, quarrelsome.’
At the station he took a ticket and said he was going to accompany her home.
‘You don’t seem to have much to do with your time,’ she said.
‘I suppose I can waste it in my own way.’
They seemed to be always on the verge of a quarrel. The fact was that he hated himself for loving her. She seemed to be constantly humiliating him, and for each snub that he endured he owed her a grudge. But she was in a friendly mood that evening, and talkative: she told him that her parents were dead; she gave him to understand that she did not have to earn her living, but worked for amusement.
‘My aunt doesn’t like my going to business. I can have the best of everything at home. I don’t want you to think I work because I need to.’ Philip knew that she was not speaking the truth. The gentility of her class made her use this pretence to avoid the stigma attached to earning her living.
‘My family’s very well-connected,’ she said.
Philip smiled faintly, and she noticed it.
‘What are you laughing at?’ she said quickly. ‘Don’t you believe I’m telling you the truth?’
‘Of course I do,’ he answered.
She looked at him suspiciously, but in a moment could not resist the temptation to impress him with the splendour of her early days.
‘My father always kept a dog-cart, and we had three servants. We had a cook and a housemaid and an odd man. We used to grow beautiful roses. People used to stop at the gate and ask who the house belonged to, the roses were so beautiful. Of course it isn’t very nice for me having to mix with them girls in the shop, it’s not the class of person I’ve been used to, and sometimes I really think I’ll give up business on that account. It’s not the work I mind, don’t think that; but it’s the class of people I have to mix with.’
They were sitting opposite one another in the train, and Philip, listening sympathetically to what she said, was quite happy. He was amused at her naivete and slightly touched. There was a very faint colour in her cheeks. He was thinking that it would be delightful to kiss the tip of her chin.
‘The moment you come into the shop I saw you was a gentleman in every sense of the word. Was your father a professional man?’
‘He was a doctor.’
‘You can always tell a professional man. There’s something about them, I don’t know what it is, but I know at once.’
They walked along from the station together.
‘I say, I want you to come and see another play with me,’ he said.
‘I don’t mind,’ she said.
‘You might go so far as to say you’d like to.’
‘Why?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Let’s fix a day. Would Saturday night suit you?’
‘Yes, that’ll do.’
They made further arrangements, and then found themselves at the corner of the road in which she lived. She gave him her hand, and he held it.
‘I say, I do so awfully want to call you Mildred.’
‘You may if you like, I don’t care.’
‘And you’ll call me Philip, won’t you?’
‘I will if I can think of it. It seems more natural to call you Mr. Carey.’
He drew her slightly towards him, but she leaned back.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Won’t you kiss me good-night?’ he whispered.
‘Impudence!’ she said.
She snatched away her hand and hurried towards her house.
Philip bought tickets for Saturday night. It was not one of the days on which she got off early and therefore she would have no time to go home and change; but she meant to bring a frock up with her in the morning and hurry into her clothes at the shop. If the manageress was in a good temper she would let her go at seven. Philip had agreed to wait outside from a quarter past seven onwards. He looked forward to the occasion with painful eagerness, for in the cab on the way from the theatre to the station he thought she would let him kiss her. The vehicle gave every facility for a man to put his arm round a girl’s waist (an advantage which the hansom had over the taxi of the present day), and the delight of that was worth the cost of the evening’s entertainment.
But on Saturday afternoon when he went in to have tea, in order to confirm the arrangements, he met the man with the fair moustache coming out of the shop. He knew by now that he was called Miller. He was a naturalized German, who had anglicised his name, and he had lived many years in England. Philip had heard him speak, and, though his English was fluent and natural, it had not quite the intonation of the native. Philip knew that he was flirting with Mildred, and he was horribly jealous of him; but he took comfort in the coldness of her temperament, which otherwise distressed him; and, thinking her incapable of passion, he looked upon his rival as no better off than himself. But his heart sank now, for his first thought was that Miller’s sudden appearance might interfere with the jaunt which he had so looked forward to. He entered, sick with apprehension. The waitress came up to him, took his order for tea, and presently brought it.
‘I’m awfully, sorry’ she said, with an expression on her face of real distress. ‘I shan’t be able to come tonight after all.’
‘Why?’ said Philip.
‘Don’t look so stern about it,’ she laughed. ‘It’s not my fault. My aunt was taken ill last night, and it’s the girl’s night out so I must go and sit with her. She can’t be left alone, can she?’
‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll see you home instead.’
‘But you’ve got the tickets. It would be a pity to waste them.’
He took them out of his pocket and deliberately tore them up.
‘What are you doing that for?’
‘You don’t suppose I want to go and see a rotten musical comedy by myself, do you? I only took seats there for your sake.’
‘You can’t see me home if that’s what you mean?’
‘You’ve made other arrangements.’
‘I don’t know what you mean by that. You’re just as selfish as all the rest of them. You only think of yourself. It’s not my fault if my aunt’s queer.’
She quickly wrote out his bill and left him. Philip knew very little about women, or he would have been aware that one should accept their most transparent lies. He made up his mind that he would watch the shop and see for certain whether Mildred went out with the German. He had an unhappy passion for certainty. At seven he stationed himself on the opposite pavement. He looked about for Miller, but did not see him. In ten minutes she came out, she had on the cloak and shawl which she had worn when he took her to the Shaftesbury Theatre. It was obvious that she was not going home. She saw him before he had time to move away, started a little, and then came straight up to him.
‘What are you doing here?’ she said.
‘Taking the air,’ he answered.
‘You’re spying on me, you dirty little cad. I thought you was a gentleman.’
‘Did you think a gentleman would be likely to take any interest in you?’ he murmured.
There was a devil within him which forced him to make matters worse. He wanted to hurt her as much as she was hurting him.
‘I suppose I can change my mind if I like. I’m not obliged to come out with you. I tell you I’m going home, and I won’t be followed or spied upon.’
‘Have you seen Miller today?’
‘That’s no business of yours. In point of fact I haven’t, so you’re wrong again.’
‘I saw him this afternoon. He’d just come out of the shop when I went in.’
‘Well, what if he did? I can go out with him if I want to, can’t I? I don’t know what you’ve got to say to it.’
‘He’s keeping you waiting, isn’t he?’
‘Well, I’d rather wait for him than have you wait for me. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. And now p’raps you’ll go off home and mind your own business in future.’
His mood changed suddenly from anger to despair, and his voice trembled when he spoke.
‘I say, don’t be beastly with me, Mildred. You know I’m awfully fond of you. I think I love you with all my heart. Won’t you change your mind? I was looking forward to this evening so awfully. You see, he hasn’t come, and he can’t care twopence about you really. Won’t you dine with me? I’ll get some more tickets, and we’ll go anywhere you like.’
‘I tell you I won’t. It’s no good you talking. I’ve made up my mind, and when I make up my mind I keep to it.’
He looked at her for a moment. His heart was torn with anguish. People were hurrying past them on the pavement, and cabs and omnibuses rolled by noisily. He saw that Mildred’s eyes were wandering. She was afraid of missing Miller in the crowd.
‘I can’t go on like this,’ groaned Philip. ‘it’s too degrading. if I go now I go for good. Unless you’ll come with me tonight you’ll never see me again.’
‘You seem to think that’ll be an awful thing for me. All I say is, good riddance to bad rubbish.’
‘Then good-bye.’
He nodded and limped away slowly, for he hoped with all his heart that she would call him back. At the next lamp-post he stopped and looked over his shoulder. He thought she might beckon to him—he was willing to forget everything, he was ready for any humiliation—but she had turned away, and apparently had ceased to trouble about him. He realised that she was glad to be quit of him.