第十四章（第3/15页）

He twisted round again and looked at the enlarged photograph. It was framed in a brown-and-gilt frame, hideous. It showed a clean-shaven, alert, very young-looking man in a rather high collar, and a somewhat plump, bold young woman with hair fluffed out and crimped, and wearing a dark satin blouse.

他又转过头，盯着那副大照片。它镶嵌在褐金相间的相框里，看着就让人反胃。照片里的新郎胡子剃得溜光，目光机警，模样颇为年轻，领子竖得很高。而新娘则长相泼辣，体型稍显臃肿，满头卷发乱蓬蓬的，穿深色缎料上衣。

"It wouldn't be a bad idea, would it?” He said.

“是个好主意。”他说。

He had pulled off his boots, and put on a pair of slippers. He stood up on the chair, and lifted down the photograph. It left a big pale place on the greenish wall-paper.

他已经脱去长靴，蹬上拖鞋。他站到椅子上，取下照片。浅绿色的壁纸间，留下一大块空白。

"No use dusting it now," he said, setting the thing against the wall.

“现在省得掸灰尘了。”他说着，把相框倚墙放下。

He went to the scullery, and returned with hammer and pincers. Sitting where he had sat before, he started to tear off the back-paper from the big frame, and to pull out the sprigs that held the backboard in position, working with the immediate quiet absorption that was characteristic of him.

他去洗碗池那边，拿回锤子和钳子。他在先前的地方坐下，先把镜框背面的纸撕掉，然后将固定后挡板的图钉拔出，整个过程始终全神贯注，沉静安详，那是他所特有的神态。

He soon had the nails out: then he pulled out the backboards, then the enlargement itself, in its solid white mount. He looked at the photograph with amusement.

他很快将所有钉子拔完，然后取下后挡板，接着把照片从结实的白色衬纸中拿出来。他饶有兴致地看着自己的结婚照。

"Shows me for what I was, a young curate, and her for what she was, a bully," he said. "The prig and the bully!" "Let me look!" Said Connie.

“让我想起自己当年的模样，像个年轻有为的牧师，而她那时候就是个地道的悍妇。”他说。“圣徒与泼妇！”“让我看看！”康妮说。

He did look indeed very clean-shaven and very clean altogether, one of the clean young men of twenty years ago. But even in the photograph his eyes were alert and dauntless. And the woman was not altogether a bully, though her jowl was heavy. There was a touch of appeal in her.

20年前的他确实未曾蓄须，干净利落，是位体态匀称的小伙子。但即便是在照片上，他的双眸依然显得机智敏锐，勇敢无畏。而那女人尽管下颚宽厚，但却并无悍妇模样。反倒有种特殊的魅力。

"One never should keep these things," said Connie. "That one shouldn't! One should never have them made!” He broke the cardboard photograph and mount over his knee, and when it was small enough, put it on the fire.

“没必要留着这种东西。”康妮说。“确实不该留！照都不该照！”他撕扯着硬纸板做成的照片，堆在膝盖上，直到彻底变成碎片，就将其投入炉火中。

"It'll spoil the fire though," he said.

“简直是对火焰的糟蹋。”他说。

The glass and the backboard he carefully took upstairs.

他小心翼翼地把玻璃和后挡板拿到楼上去收好。

The frame he knocked asunder with a few blows of the hammer, making the stucco fly. Then he took the pieces into the scullery.

相框被他几锤砸得粉碎，灰泥扬起，到处乱飞。接着，他将碎片丢到洗涤间。

"We'll burn that tomorrow," he said. "There's too much plaster-moulding on it.” Having cleared away, he sat down.

“那些明天再烧。”他说。“上面抹了太多灰泥。”清理干净后，他重新坐了下来。

"Did you love your wife?" she asked him.

“你爱你的妻子吗？”她问他。

"Love?" He said. "Did you love Sir Clifford?" But she was not going to be put off.

“爱？”他反问道。“那你爱克利福德爵士吗？”但她不想被搪塞过去。

"But you cared for her?" She insisted.

“可你还挂念她吧？”她追问道。

"Cared?" He grinned.

“挂念？”他苦笑着。

"Perhaps you care for her now," she said.

“或许你现在还挂念着她。”她说。

"Me!" His eyes widened. "Ah no, I can't think of her," he said quietly.

“我？”他瞪大眼睛。“噢，不，我从不会想起她。”他轻声说。

"Why?" But he shook his head.

“为什么？”但他摇头不愿作答。

"Then why don't you get a divorce? She'll come back to you one day," said Connie.