A Dill Pickle

And then, after six years, she saw him again. He was seated at one of those little bamboo tables decorated with a Japanese vase of paper daffodils. There was a tall plate of fruit in front of him, and very carefully, in a way she recognized immediately as his “special” way, he was peeling an orange.

六年后，她再次见到了他。他坐在一张竹制小桌旁，桌上摆着一日式花瓶的纸水仙花。他面前放着一盘高高的水果，他正非常小心地剥着一个橘子，她一眼就认出了这是他的"特殊"方式。

He must have felt that shock of recognition in her for he looked up and met her eyes. Incredible! He didn’t know her! She smiled; he frowned. She came towards him. He closed his eyes an instant, but opening them his face lit up as though he had struck a match in a dark room. He laid down the orange and pushed back his chair, and she took her little warm hand out of her muff and gave it to him.

他一定感受到了她认出他的震惊，因为他抬起头，与她对视。真不可思议！他没认出她！她笑了，他却皱起了眉头。她向他走来。他瞬间闭上了眼睛，但睁开眼睛时，他的脸亮了起来，就像在黑暗的房间里划亮了一根火柴。他放下橘子，推开椅子，她从手笼里拿出温暖的小手递给他。

“Vera!” he exclaimed. “How strange. Really, for a moment I didn’t know you. Won’t you sit down? You’ve had lunch? Won’t you have some coffee?”

"薇拉！"他惊呼道。"真奇怪。真的，有那么一瞬间我都不认识你了。你不坐下吗？你吃过午饭了吗？不喝点咖啡吗？"

She hesitated, but of course she meant to.

她犹豫了一下，但她当然是打算的。

“Yes, I’d like some coffee.” And she sat down opposite him.

"好的，我想喝点咖啡。"她在他对面坐下。

“You’ve changed. You’ve changed very much,” he said, staring at her with that eager, lighted look. “You look so well. I’ve never seen you look so well before.”

"你变了。你变了很多，"他说，用那种热切而明亮的眼神盯着她。"你看起来气色真好。我以前从没见过你状态这么好过。"

“Really?” She raised her veil and unbuttoned her high fur collar. “I don’t feel very well. I can’t bear this weather, you know.”

"真的吗？"她撩起面纱，解开高高的毛领扣子。"我感觉不太好。我受不了这样的天气，你知道的。"

“Ah, no. You hate the cold. . . .”

"啊，不。你讨厌寒冷……"

“Loathe it.” She shuddered. “And the worst of it is that the older one grows . . .”

"讨厌它。"她颤抖着说。"最糟糕的是，年纪越大……"

He interrupted her. “Excuse me,” and tapped on the table for the waitress. “Please bring some coffee and cream.” To her: “You are sure you won’t eat anything? Some fruit, perhaps. The fruit here is very good.”

他打断了她的话。"打扰一下，"他敲了敲桌子，叫来了女招待。"请拿咖啡和奶油来。"对她说："你真的什么都不吃？也许吃点水果吧。这里的水果很好吃。"

“No, thanks. Nothing.”

"不用了，谢谢。我什么都不吃。"

“Then that’s settled.” And smiling just a hint too broadly he took up the orange again. “You were saying—the older one grows——”

"那就这么定了。"他笑得有点灿烂，又拿起了橘子。"你刚才说——年纪越大——"

“The colder,” she laughed. But she was thinking how well she remembered that trick of his—the trick of interrupting her—and of how it used to exasperate her six years ago. She used to feel then as though he, quite suddenly, in the middle of what she was saying, put his hand over her lips, turned from her, attended to something different, and then took his hand away, and with just the same slightly too broad smile, gave her his attention again. . . . Now we are ready. That is settled.

"感觉越冷，"她笑了。但她在想，她是多么清楚地记得他的这一伎俩——打断她说话的伎俩——以及六年前这一伎俩是如何激怒她的。她那时总觉得，他好像在她说话的时候，突然把手放在她的嘴唇上，转过身去，关注着别的事情，然后把手拿开，带着同样略显宽厚的笑容，再次把注意力放在她身上……现在我们准备好了。就这么定了。

“The colder!” He echoed her words, laughing too. “Ah, ah. You still say the same things. And there is another thing about you that is not changed at all—your beautiful voice—your beautiful way of speaking.” Now he was very grave; he leaned towards her, and she smelled the warm, stinging scent of the orange peel. “You have only to say one word and I would know your voice among all other voices. I don’t know what it is—I’ve often wondered—that makes your voice such a—haunting memory. Do you remember that first afternoon we spent together at Kew Gardens? You were so surprised because I did not know the names of any flowers. I am still just as ignorant for all your telling me. But whenever it is very fine and warm, and I see some bright colours—it’s awfully strange—I hear your voice saying: ‘Geranium, marigold and verbena.’ And I feel those three words are all I recall of some forgotten, heavenly language. . . . You remember that afternoon?”

"感觉越冷！"他重复着她的话，也笑了。"啊，啊。你还是说同样的话。你还有一点没有变——你优美的嗓音——你美丽说话的方式。"现在，他非常严肃；他向她靠拢，她闻到了橘子皮温暖而刺鼻的气味。"你只要说一句话，我就能在所有声音中认出你的声音。我不知道是什么原因——我常常在想——让你的声音如此令人难忘。你还记得我们在邱园（伦敦西郊的英国皇家植物园——译注）共度的第一个下午吗？你很惊讶，因为我不知道任何花的名字。你告诉了我那么多，我还是一窍不通。但每当天气晴朗温暖，我看到一些鲜艳的颜色——这太奇怪了——我就听到你的声音在说：'天竺葵、万寿菊和马鞭草'。我觉得这三个词就是我回想起的被遗忘的天籁之音……你还记得那个下午吗？"

“Oh, yes, very well.” She drew a long, soft breath, as though the paper daffodils between them were almost too sweet to bear. Yet, what had remained in her mind of that particular afternoon was an absurd scene over the tea table. A great many people taking tea in a Chinese pagoda, and he behaving like a maniac about the wasps—waving them away, flapping at them with his straw hat, serious and infuriated out of all proportion to the occasion. How delighted the sniggering tea drinkers had been. And how she had suffered.

"哦，是的，记得很清楚。"她长长地、轻轻地吸了一口气，仿佛她们之间的那瓶纸水仙花甜得几乎让人无法忍受。然而，在她的脑海中，那个特别的下午留下的却是茶桌上荒诞的一幕。许多人在中式塔里喝茶，而他却像个疯子一样围着黄蜂转——挥手赶走它们，用草帽拍打它们，严肃而愤怒的神情与这场合完全不相称。喝茶的人笑得多开心啊。而她是多么痛苦。

But now, as he spoke, that memory faded. His was the truer. Yes, it had been a wonderful afternoon, full of geranium and marigold and verbena, and—warm sunshine. Her thoughts lingered over the last two words as though she sang them.

但现在，当他开口说话时，那段记忆渐渐消失了。他的记忆更真实。是的，那是一个美妙的下午，充满了天竺葵、万寿菊和马鞭草，还有温暖的阳光。她的思绪一直停留在最后两个词上，就像在歌唱。

In the warmth, as it were, another memory unfolded. She saw herself sitting on a lawn. He lay beside her, and suddenly, after a long silence, he rolled over and put his head in her lap.

在温暖的阳光下，另一段记忆也随之展开。她看到自己坐在草坪上。他躺在她身边，在长时间的沉默之后，他突然翻了个身，把头放在了她的腿上。

“I wish,” he said, in a low, troubled voice, “I wish that I had taken poison and were about to die—here now!”

"我希望，"他用低沉而不安的声音说，"我希望我已经服毒自尽了，现在就死在这里！"

At that moment a little girl in a white dress, holding a long, dripping water lily, dodged from behind a bush, stared at them, and dodged back again. But he did not see. She leaned over him.

这时，一个穿着白色连衣裙的小女孩，拿着一朵长长的、滴着水的睡莲，从灌木丛后面躲了过来，盯着他们，又躲了回去。但他没有看到。她向他俯下身。

“Ah, why do you say that? I could not say that.”

"啊，你为什么这么说？我不能这么说。"

But he gave a kind of soft moan, and taking her hand he held it to his cheek.

但他发出了一声轻柔的呻吟，然后握住她的手，贴在自己的脸颊上。

“Because I know I am going to love you too much—far too much. And I shall suffer so terribly. Vera, because you never, never will love me.”

"因为我知道我会爱你爱得太深，爱得太深。我会非常痛苦。薇拉，因为你永远永远不会爱我。"

He was certainly far better looking now than he had been then. He had lost all that dreamy vagueness and indecision. Now he had the air of a man who has found his place in life, and fills it with a confidence and an assurance which was, to say the least, impressive. He must have made money, too. His clothes were admirable, and at that moment he pulled a Russian cigarette case out of his pocket.

现在的他确实比那时好看多了。他褪去了梦幻般的模糊和优柔寡断。现在的他就像一个找到了自己人生位置的人，充满了自信和笃定，至少可以说是令人印象深刻。他一定也赚了钱。他的衣着令人羡慕，这时，他从口袋里掏出一个俄罗斯烟盒。

“Won’t you smoke?”

"抽烟吗？"

“Yes, I will.” She hovered over them. “They look very good.”

"是的，抽的。"她在烟雾中若隐若现。"看起来很不错。"

“I think they are. I get them made for me by a little man in St. James’s Street. I don’t smoke very much. I’m not like you—but when I do, they must be delicious, very fresh cigarettes. Smoking isn’t a habit with me; it’s a luxury—like perfume. Are you still so fond of perfumes? Ah, when I was in Russia . . .”

"我想是的。我让圣詹姆斯街（伦敦奢侈品商业区和富人俱乐部聚集区——译注）的一个小个子给我做的。我不怎么抽烟。我不像你——但我抽的时候，一定是香烟，非常新鲜的香烟。吸烟对我来说不是一种习惯，而是一种奢侈品——就像香水一样。你还这么喜欢香水吗？啊，我在俄罗斯的时候……"

She broke in: “You’ve really been to Russia?”

她插了一句："你真的去过俄国？"

“Oh, yes. I was there for over a year. Have you forgotten how we used to talk of going there?”

"哦，是的。我在那里呆了一年多。你忘了我们曾经说过要去那里吗？"

“No, I’ve not forgotten.”

"不，我没忘。"

He gave a strange half laugh and leaned back in his chair. “Isn’t it curious. I have really carried out all those journeys that we planned. Yes, I have been to all those places that we talked of, and stayed in them long enough to—as you used to say, ‘air oneself’ in them. In fact, I have spent the last three years of my life travelling all the time. Spain, Corsica, Siberia, Russia, Egypt. The only country left is China, and I mean to go there, too, when the war is over.”

他发出奇怪的半笑声，靠在椅子上。"这不是很奇怪吗？我真的完成了我们计划的所有旅行。是的，我去过我们说过的所有那些地方，而且在那里呆了足够长的时间——就像你过去常说的那样，在那里'表现自我'。事实上，在过去的三年里，我一直在旅行。西班牙、科西嘉、西伯利亚、俄罗斯、埃及。唯一剩下的国家是中国，我打算战争结束后也去中国。"

As he spoke, so lightly, tapping the end of his cigarette against the ash-tray, she felt the strange beast that had slumbered so long within her bosom stir, stretch itself, yawn, prick up its ears, and suddenly bound to its feet, and fix its longing, hungry stare upon those far away places. But all she said was, smiling gently: “How I envy you.”

他一边说着，一边用烟头轻轻地敲着烟灰缸，她感到在她怀里沉睡了很久的那只奇怪的野兽骚动起来，伸了伸懒腰，打了个哈欠，竖起了耳朵，突然站了起来，用渴望而饥饿的目光盯着那些遥远的地方。但她只是温柔地笑着说："我真羡慕你。"

He accepted that. “It has been,” he said, “very wonderful—especially Russia. Russia was all that we had imagined, and far, far more. I even spent some days on a river boat on the Volga. Do you remember that boatman’s song that you used to play?”

他接受了这一说法。"他说，"这一切都非常美妙——尤其是俄罗斯。俄罗斯完全符合我们的想象，而且远不止如此。我甚至在伏尔加河上的河船上度过了几天。你还记得你经常演奏的那首船夫之歌吗？"

“Yes.” It began to play in her mind as she spoke.

"记得。"在她说话的同时，这首歌开始在她脑海中响起。

“Do you ever play it now?”

"你现在还会弹吗？"

“No, I’ve no piano.”

"不，我没有钢琴。"

He was amazed at that. “But what has become of your beautiful piano?”

他对此很惊讶："但你那架漂亮的钢琴现在怎么样了？"

She made a little grimace. “Sold. Ages ago.”

她做了个鬼脸："卖了。很久以前了。"

“But you were so fond of music,” he wondered.

"但你那么喜欢音乐，"他问。

“I’ve no time for it now,” said she.

"我现在没时间了。"她说。

He let it go at that. “That river life,” he went on, “is something quite special. After a day or two you cannot realize that you have ever known another. And it is not necessary to know the language—the life of the boat creates a bond between you and the people that’s more than sufficient. You eat with them, pass the day with them, and in the evening there is that endless singing.”

他就此作罢。"河边的生活"，他接着说，"很特别。一两天之后，你就不会意识到你曾经了解过另一个人。而且不需要懂语言，船上的生活就能在你和人们之间建立起足够的联系。你和他们一起吃饭，一起度过白天，晚上还有无尽的歌声。"

She shivered, hearing the boatman’s song break out again loud and tragic, and seeing the boat floating on the darkening river with melancholy trees on either side. . . . “Yes, I should like that,” said she, stroking her muff.

听到船夫的歌声再次响起，她不禁打了个寒颤，看到小船漂浮在昏暗的河面上，两边是忧郁的树木……"是的，我喜欢这样，"她抚摸着自己的手笼说。

“You’d like almost everything about Russian life,” he said warmly. “It’s so informal, so impulsive, so free without question. And then the peasants are so splendid. They are such human beings—yes, that is it. Even the man who drives your carriage has—has some real part in what is happening. I remember the evening a party of us, two friends of mine and the wife of one of them, went for a picnic by the Black Sea. We took supper and champagne and ate and drank on the grass. And while we were eating the coachman came up. ‘Have a dill pickle,’ he said. He wanted to share with us. That seemed to me so right, so—you know what I mean?”

"你会喜欢几乎俄罗斯生活的一切，"他热情地说。"它是如此不拘小节，如此冲动，如此无拘无束。农民也是如此出色。他们是真正的人——是的，就是这样。就连给你赶马车的人，也在发生的事情中扮演着重要角色。我记得有一天晚上，我们一行人，我的两个朋友和其中一个朋友的妻子，去黑海边野餐。我们带着晚餐和香槟，在草地上吃喝。我们吃着吃着，马车夫走了过来。他说，'吃点腌黄瓜吧'。他想和我们分享。我觉得这样很好，很——你明白我的意思吗？"

And she seemed at that moment to be sitting on the grass beside the mysteriously Black Sea, black as velvet, and rippling against the banks in silent, velvet waves. She saw the carriage drawn up to one side of the road, and the little group on the grass, their faces and hands white in the moonlight. She saw the pale dress of the woman outspread and her folded parasol, lying on the grass like a huge pearl crochet hook. Apart from them, with his supper in a cloth on his knees, sat the coachman. “Have a dill pickle,” said he, and although she was not certain what a dill pickle was, she saw the greenish glass jar with a red chili like a parrot’s beak glimmering through. She sucked in her cheeks; the dill pickle was terribly sour. . . .

那一刻，她仿佛坐在神秘的黑海旁的草地上，黑海黑得像天鹅绒，在岸边荡漾着无声的、天鹅绒般的波纹。她看到马车停在路的一边，草地上有一小群人，他们的脸和手在月光下泛着白光。她看到那个女人披散着苍白的长裙，折叠的阳伞躺在草地上，就像一个巨大的珍珠钩针。马车夫坐在他们旁边，膝盖上放着用布包着的晚餐。他说："来点腌黄瓜吧。"虽然她不知道什么是腌黄瓜，但她看到了那个绿色的玻璃罐，里面有一个像鹦鹉嘴一样的红色辣椒在闪闪发光。她吸了吸腮帮子，腌黄瓜酸得厉害……

“Yes, I know perfectly what you mean,” she said.

"是的，我完全明白你的意思。"她说。

In the pause that followed they looked at each other. In the past when they had looked at each other like that they had felt such a boundless understanding between them that their souls had, as it were, put their arms round each other and dropped into the same sea, content to be drowned, like mournful lovers. But now, the surprising thing was that it was he who held back. He who said:

在随后的停顿中，他们彼此对视。过去，当他们这样对视时，他们会感到彼此间有一种无边无际的默契，他们的灵魂会像哀伤的恋人一样，用双臂环抱着对方，投入同一片大海，甘愿被淹没。但现在，令人吃惊的是，他却忍住了。他说：

“What a marvellous listener you are. When you look at me with those wild eyes I feel that I could tell you things that I would never breathe to another human being.”

"你真是个了不起的听众。当你用那双野性的眼睛看着我时，我觉得我可以告诉你一些我永远不会对别人说的事情。"

Was there just a hint of mockery in his voice or was it her fancy? She could not be sure.

他的声音里是带着一丝嘲弄，还是她的幻想？她无法确定。

“Before I met you,” he said, “I had never spoken of myself to anybody. How well I remember one night, the night that I brought you the little Christmas tree, telling you all about my childhood. And of how I was so miserable that I ran away and lived under a cart in our yard for two days without being discovered. And you listened, and your eyes shone, and I felt that you had even made the little Christmas tree listen too, as in a fairy story.”

"在遇到你之前，"他说，"我从未对任何人说起过自己。我清楚地记得，有一天晚上，我给你带来小圣诞树的那天晚上，我向你讲述了我童年的一切。我是多么悲惨，以至于离家出走，在院子里的小车下住了两天而没有被发现。你听得津津有味，眼睛闪闪发亮，我觉得你甚至让小圣诞树也听得津津有味，就像在讲童话故事一样。"

But of that evening she had remembered a little pot of caviare. It had cost seven and sixpence. He could not get over it. Think of it—a tiny jar like that costing seven and sixpence. While she ate it he watched her, delighted and shocked.

但那天晚上，她想起了一小壶鱼子酱。花了七磅又六便士。他怎么也想不起来。想想看，那么小的一罐，花了七磅又六便士。她吃的时候，他看着她，既高兴又震惊。

“No, really, that is eating money. You could not get seven shillings into a little pot that size. Only think of the profit they must make. . . .” And he had begun some immensely complicated calculations. . . . But now good-bye to the caviare. The Christmas tree was on the table, and the little boy lay under the cart with his head pillowed on the yard dog.

"不，真的，那是在吃钱。你不可能把七先令放进那么大的一个小罐子里。想想他们一定赚了不少钱……"他开始了一些极其复杂的计算……不过，现在要和鱼子酱说再见了。圣诞树放在桌子上，小男孩躺在推车下，头枕着院子里的狗。

“The dog was called Bosun,” she cried delightedly.

"这只狗叫波森。"她高兴地喊道。

But he did not follow. “Which dog? Had you a dog? I don’t remember a dog at all.”

但他没有接上来。"哪条狗？你养过狗吗？我完全不记得有狗。"

“No, no. I mean the yard dog when you were a little boy.” He laughed and snapped the cigarette case to.

"没有，没有。我是说你小时候院子里的狗。"他笑了笑，把烟盒“咔”得闭上。

“Was he? Do you know I had forgotten that. It seems such ages ago. I cannot believe that it is only six years. After I had recognized you to-day—I had to take such a leap—I had to take a leap over my whole life to get back to that time. I was such a kid then.” He drummed on the table. “I’ve often thought how I must have bored you. And now I understand so perfectly why you wrote to me as you did—although at the time that letter nearly finished my life. I found it again the other day, and I couldn’t help laughing as I read it. It was so clever—such a true picture of me.” He glanced up. “You’re not going?”

"是吗？你知道吗，我都忘了。好像是很久以前的事了。真不敢相信才过了六年。今天我认出你之后——我不得不飞跃了一下——我不得不飞跃我的整个人生，回到那个时候。那时我还是个孩子。"他敲了敲桌子。"我常常想，我一定让你觉得很无聊。现在我完全理解你为什么要写信给我了——虽然当时那封信几乎毁了我的一生。前几天我又找到了它，读着读着我忍不住笑了。它太聪明了——真是我的真实写照"。他抬起头。"你不走吗？"

She had buttoned her collar again and drawn down her veil.

她又扣上了领扣，拉下了面纱。

“Yes, I am afraid I must,” she said, and managed a smile. Now she knew that he had been mocking.

"是的，恐怕我必须走了，"她说，并勉强挤出一丝微笑。现在她知道他是在嘲笑她。

“Ah, no, please,” he pleaded. “Don’t go just for a moment,” and he caught up one of her gloves from the table and clutched at it as if that would hold her. “I see so few people to talk to nowadays, that I have turned into a sort of barbarian,” he said. “Have I said something to hurt you?”

"啊，别，求你了，"他恳求道。"别走，就一会儿。"他从桌子上拿起她的一只手套，紧紧抓住，好像这样就能抓住她似的。"我现在很少和人说话了，我已经变成了一个野蛮人。"他说。"我说了什么伤害你的话吗？"

“Not a bit,” she lied. But as she watched him draw her glove through his fingers, gently, gently, her anger really did die down, and besides, at the moment he looked more like himself of six years ago. . . .

"一点没有。"她撒谎说。但当她看着他用手指轻轻地、轻轻地抽出她的手套时，她的怒气真的消了，况且，此刻他看起来更像六年前的自己……

“What I really wanted then,” he said softly, “was to be a sort of carpet—to make myself into a sort of carpet for you to walk on so that you need not be hurt by the sharp stones and the mud that you hated so. It was nothing more positive than that—nothing more selfish. Only I did desire, eventually, to turn into a magic carpet and carry you away to all those lands you longed to see.”

"我当时真正想要的，"他轻声说，"是成为一种的地毯——让自己成为你行走的地毯，这样你就不会被尖锐的石头和泥泞所伤害，你是如此地憎恨它们。没有比这更积极的了，也没有比这更自私的了。只是我最终还是希望变成魔毯，载着你去所有你渴望看到的地方。"

As he spoke she lifted her head as though she drank something; the strange beast in her bosom began to purr. . . .

他说话的时候，她抬起了头，好像喝了什么东西；她怀里的怪兽开始咕噜咕噜地叫起来……

“I felt that you were more lonely than anybody else in the world,” he went on, “and yet, perhaps, that you were the only person in the world who was really, truly alive. Born out of your time,” he murmured, stroking the glove, “fated.”

"我觉得你比世界上任何人都孤独，"他接着说，"然而，也许，你是世界上唯一真正活着的人。你生不逢时，"他喃喃自语，抚摸着手套，"命中注定"。

Ah, God! What had she done! How had she dared to throw away her happiness like this. This was the only man who had ever understood her. Was it too late? Could it be too late? She was that glove that he held in his fingers. . . .

啊，上帝！她做了什么？她怎么敢这样抛弃自己的幸福。这是唯一理解她的男人。还来得及吗？会不会太晚了？她就是他指间的那只手套……

“And then the fact that you had no friends and never had made friends with people. How I understood that, for neither had I. Is it just the same now?”

"你没有朋友，也从不与人交朋友。我很理解你，因为我也没有朋友，现在也一样吗？"

“Yes,” she breathed. “Just the same. I am as alone as ever.”

"是的，"她喘着气说。"还是一样。我和以前一样孤独。"

“So am I,” he laughed gently, “just the same.”

"我也一样，"他温和地笑道，"都一样。"

Suddenly with a quick gesture he handed her back the glove and scraped his chair on the floor, “But what seemed to me so mysterious then is perfectly plain to me now. And to you, too, of course. . . . It simply was that we were such egoists, so self-engrossed, so wrapped up in ourselves that we hadn’t a corner in our hearts for anybody else. Do you know,” he cried, naive and hearty, and dreadfully like another side of that old self again, “I began studying a Mind System when I was in Russia, and I found that we were not peculiar at all. It’s quite a well known form of . . .”

突然，他做了一个快速的手势，把手套递还给了她，然后拖动他的椅子，"但是，当时在我看来如此神秘的事情，现在对我来说却非常明显。当然，对你来说也是如此……简单地说，就是我们太自我了，太自我陶醉了，太沉浸在自己的世界里了，以至于心里没有别人的一角。你知道吗，"他喊道，天真而真心，可怕地像又回到了从前的自己，"我在俄罗斯时开始研究一种心智系统，我发现我们一点也不奇特。这是一种众所周知的……"

She had gone. He sat there, thunder-struck, astounded beyond words. . . . And then he asked the waitress for his bill.

她走了。他坐在那里，如遭雷击，震惊得无以言表……然后他向女招待要了账单。

“But the cream has not been touched,” he said. “Please do not charge me for it.”

"但奶油还没动过，"他说。"请不要收我的钱。"