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She sat down； glanced searchingly at Miss Baker and then at me； and continued： “I looked outdoors for a minute； and it’s very romantic outdoors。 There’s a bird on the lawn that I think must be a nightingale e over on the Cunard or White Star Line。 He’s singing away——” Her voice sang： “It’s romantic； isn’t it； Tom？” 她坐了下来，先朝贝克小姐然后朝我察看了一眼，又接着说：〃我到外面看一下，看到外面浪漫极了。草坪上有一只鸟，我想一定是搭康拉德或者白星轮船公司①的船过来的一只夜莺。它在不停地歌唱。。。。。。〃她的声音也像唱歌一般，〃很浪漫，是不是，汤姆？〃 ①两家著名的英国轮船公司，专营横渡大西洋的业务。
“Very romantic；” he said； and then miserably to me： “If it’s light enough after dinner； I want to take you down to the stables。” 〃非常浪漫。〃他说，然后哭丧着脸对我说，〃吃过饭要是天还够亮的话，我要领你到马房去看看。〃
The telephone rang inside； startlingly； and as Daisy shook her head decisively at Tom the subject of the stables； in fact all subjects； vanished into air。 Among the broken fragments of the last five minutes at table I remember the candles being lit again； pointlessly； and I was conscious of wanting to look squarely at every one； and yet to avoid all eyes。 I couldn’t guess what Daisy and Tom were thinking； but I doubt if even Miss Baker； who seemed to have mastered a certain hardy scepticism； was able utterly to put this fifth guest’s shrill metallic urgency out of mind。 To a certain temperament the situation might have seemed intriguing—my own instinct was to telephone immediately for the police。 里面电话又响了，大家都吃了一惊。黛西断然地对汤姆摇摇头，于是马房的话题，事实上所有的话题，都化为乌有了。在餐桌上最后五分钟残存的印象中，我记得蜡烛又无缘无故地点着了，同时我意识到自己很想正眼看看大家，然而却又想避开大家的目光。我猜不出黛西和汤姆想什么，但是我也怀疑，就连贝克小姐那样似乎玩世不恭的人，是否能把这第五位客人尖锐刺耳的迫切呼声完全置之度外。对某种性情的人来说，这个局面可能倒怪有意思的我自己本能的反应是立刻去打电话叫警察。
The horses； needless to say； were not mentioned again。 Tom and Miss Baker； with several feet of twilight between them； strolled back into the library； as if to a vigil beside a perfectly tangible body； while； trying to look pleasantly interested and a little deaf； I followed Daisy around a chain of connecting verandas to the porch in front。 In its deep gloom we sat down side by side on a wicker settee。 马，不用说，就没有再提了。汤姆和贝克小姐，两人中间隔着几英尺的暮色，慢慢溜达着回书房去，仿佛走到一个确实存在的尸体旁边去守夜。同时，我一面装出感兴趣的样子，一面装出有点聋，跟着黛西穿过一连串的走廊，走到前面的阳台上去。在苍茫的暮色中我们并排在一张柳条的长靠椅上坐下。
Daisy took her face in her hands as if feeling its lovely shape； and her eyes moved gradually out into the velvet dusk。 I saw that turbulent emotions possessed her； so I asked what I thought would be some sedative questions about her little girl。 黛西把脸捧在手里，好像在抚摩她那可爱的面庞，同时她渐渐放眼人看那人鹅绒般的暮色。我看出她心潮澎湃，于是我问了几个我认为有镇静作用的关于她小女儿的问题。
“We don’t know each other very well； Nick；” she said suddenly。 “Even if we are cousins。 You didn’t e to my wedding。” 〃我们彼此并不熟识，尼克，〃她忽然说，〃尽管我们是表亲。你没参加我的婚礼。〃
“I wasn’t back from the war。” 〃我打仗还没回来。〃
“That’s true。” She hesitated。 “Well； I’ve had a very bad time； Nick； and I’m pretty cynical about everything。” 〃确实。〃她犹疑了一下，〃哎，我可真够受的，尼克，所以我把一切都差不多看透了。〃
Evidently she had reason to be。 I waited but she didn’t say any more； and after a moment I returned rather feebly to the subject of her daughter。 显然她抱这种看法是有缘故的。我等着听，可是她没再往下说，过了一会儿我又吞吞吐吐地回到了她女儿这个话题。
“I suppose she talks； and—eats； and everything。” 〃我想她一定会说，又。。。。。。会吃，什么都会吧。〃
“Oh； yes。” She looked at me absently。 “Listen； Nick； let me tell you what I said when she was born。 Would you like to hear？” 〃呃，是啊。〃她心不在焉地看着我，〃听我说，尼克，让我告诉你她出世的时候我说了什么话。你想听吗？〃
“Very much。” 〃非常想听。〃
“It’ll show you how I’ve gotten to feel about—things。 Well； she was less than an hour old and Tom was God knows where。 I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling； and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy or a girl。 She told me it was a girl； and so I turned my head away and wept。 ‘all right；’ I said； ‘I’m glad it’s a girl。 And I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world； a beautiful little fool。” 〃你听了就会明白我为什么会这样看待一切事物。她出世还不到一个钟头，汤姆就天晓得跑到哪里去了。我从乙醚麻醉中醒过来，有一种孤苦伶仃的感觉，马上问护士是男孩还是女孩。她告诉我是个女孩，我就转过脸哭了起来。'好吧，'我说，'我很高兴是个女孩。而且我希望她将来是个傻瓜…这就是女孩子在这种世界上最好的出路，当一个美丽的小傻瓜。〃
“You see I think everything’s terrible anyhow；” she went on in a convinced way。 “Everybody thinks so—the most advanced people。 And I KNOW。 I’ve been everywhere and seen everything and done everything。” Her eyes flashed around her in a defiant way； rather like Tom’s； and she laughed with thrilling scorn。 “Sophisticated—God； I’m sophisticated！” 〃你明白我认为反正一切都糟透了，〃她深信不疑地继续说，〃人人都这样认为…那些最先进的人。而我知道。我什么地方都去过了，什么也都见过了，什么也都干过了。〃她两眼闪闪有光，环顾四周，俨然不可一世的神气，很像汤姆，她又放声大笑，笑声里充满了可怕的讥嘲。〃饱经世故。。。。。。天哪，我可是饱经世故了。〃
The instant her voice broke off； ceasing to pel my attention； my belief； I felt the basic insincerity of what she had said。 It made me uneasy； as though the whole evening had been a trick of some sort to exact a contributory emotion from me。 I waited； and sure enough； in a moment she looked at me with an absolute smirk on her lovely face； as if she had asserted her membership in a rather distinguished secret society to which she and Tom belonged。 她的话音一落，不再强迫我注意她和相信她时，我就感到她刚才说的根本不是真心话。这使我感到不安，似乎整个晚上都是一个圈套，强使我也付出一份相应的感情。我等着，果然过了一会儿她看着我时，她那可爱的脸上就确实露出了假笑，仿佛她已经表明了她是她和汤姆所属于的一个上流社会的秘密团体中的一分子。
Inside； the crimson room bloomed with light。Tom and Miss Baker sat at either end of the long couch and she read aloud to him from the SATURDAY EVENING POST。—the words； murmurous and uninflected； running together in a soothing tune。 The lamplight； bright on his boots and dull on the autumnleaf yellow of her hair； glinted along the paper as she turned a page with a flutter of slender muscles in her arms。 室内，那间绊红色的屋子灯火辉煌。汤姆和贝克小姐各坐在长沙发的一头，她在念《星期六晚邮报》给他听，声音很低，没有变化，吐出的一连串的字句有一种让人定心的调子。灯光照在他皮靴上雪亮，照在她秋叶黄的头发上暗淡无光，每当她翻过一页，胳臂上细细的肌肉颤动的时候，灯光又一晃一晃地照在纸上。
When we came in she held us silent for a moment with a lifted hand。 我们走进屋子，她举起一只手来示意叫我们不要出声。
“To be continued；” she said； tossing the magazine on the table； “in our very next issue。” 〃待续，〃她念道，一面把杂志扔在桌上，〃见本刊下期。〃
Her body asserted itself with a restless movement of her knee； and she stood up。 她膝盖一动，身子一直，就霍地站了起来。
“Ten o’clock；” she remarked； apparently finding the time on the ceiling。 “Time for this good girl to go to bed。” 〃十点了，〃她说，仿佛在天花板上看到了时间，〃我这个好孩子该上床睡觉了。〃
“Jordan’s going to play in the tournament tomorrow；” explained Daisy； “over at Westchester。” 〃乔丹明天要去参加锦标赛，〃黛西解释道，〃在威斯彻斯特那边。〃
“Oh—you’re Jordan BAKER。” 〃哦。。。。。。你是乔丹？贝克。〃
I knew now why her face was familiar—its pleasing contemptuous expression had looked out at me from many rotogravure pictures of the sporting life at Asheville and Hot Springs and Palm Beach。 I had heard some story of her too； a critical； unpleasant story； but what it was I had forgotten long ago。 我现在才明白为什么她的面孔很眼熟她带着那可爱的傲慢的表情曾经从报道阿希维尔、温泉和棕榈海滩①的体育生活的许多报刊照片上注视着我。我还听说过关于她的一些闲话，一些说她不好