A DILL PICKLE  by Katherine Mansfield
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.
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.
"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?"
She hesitated, but of course she meant to.
"Yes, I'd like some coffee." And she sat down opposite him.
"You've changed. You've changed very much," he said, staring at her with that eager, lighted look. [Page 229]  "You look so well. I've never seen you look so well before."
"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."
"Ah, no. You hate the cold. . . . "
"Loathe it." She shuddered. "And the worst of it is that the older one grows . . . "
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."
"No, thanks. Nothing."
"Then that's settled." And smiling just a hint too broadly he took up the orange again. "You
were saying–the older one grows–"
莳萝泡菜
            凯瑟琳_曼斯菲尔德
打这以后,过了六年,她又遇到了他,他坐在一张小竹桌旁,桌子上摆着盛满纸水仙的花瓶.他正在那里剥着橙子.
既然他抬起了头,与她的视线相遇,他肯定感到了她那种认出他的惊讶.真是莫明其妙!他不认识她.她微笑着,他皱着眉头.她向他走过去,他马上闭上了眼睛,但又睁开了,脸上放出光芒,仿佛在漆黑的屋里点燃了一根火柴.
“维拉!”他叫喊到,真是没想到,真的,我刚才没认出你来.坐下,喝杯咖啡好吗?”
”好吧,来杯咖啡.”她在他的对面坐下.
“你变了,变了许多.”他说道,并用渴望、闪亮的目光注视着她。“你看上去很好，我以前从来没有见过你如此容光焕发。”
“真的？”她撩起面纱，解开她那毛茸茸的高皮领。“其实我并不感到很舒服，这你是知道的，我受不了这里的天气。
“对了，你讨厌寒冷……
“对，我是讨厌寒冷。”她打了个寒颤。“我最讨厌的是这里滋生着冷酷的人……”
“对不起，”他打断了她，接着他敲着桌子招呼侍者。“请来些咖啡和奶油。” 又对她说：“你真的不吃点东西吗？”
“不吃，谢谢，什么都不吃。”
“那么就要这些吧。”他面带笑容，又继续剥橙子。“你刚才说——滋生着冷酷的人——”
"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.
"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 [Page 230]  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?"
"Oh, yes, very well." She drew a long, soft breath, as though the paper daffodils between accepted什么意思中文
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
“冷酷的人，”她笑着说。然而，她对以前他所开的玩笑是那么记忆犹新——就是把她惹急了的那个玩笑——就是六年前曾让她恼怒的那个玩笑。
“冷酷的人！”他重复着她的话，同样笑了起来。“啊哈，你还提那些事。其实还有一件有关你的事，就是你那动人的嗓音——至今未变。不知怎么地——我总是在琢磨——是什么使你的声音如此地——萦绕在我的记忆中……你还记得我们在凯屋花园一起度过的第一个下午吗？因为当时我叫不出那些花的名字，你感到很吃惊。你告诉我的那些花名我至今还是不知道。尽管如此，每当天气晴朗，风和日丽，我看到那绚丽多彩的颜时，耳边便回响起你的声音：天竺花、金盏花、还有美人樱……你还记得那天下午吗？”
“记得，记得很清楚。”她深深地，轻轻地吸了一口气。然而，留在她记忆中的那个特别的下
午却是一个荒唐的景象。许多人在一座中国式的塔里饮茶，而他就像疯子般地轰赶着黄蜂——把它们轰跑，用草帽拍打它们。他既认真又恼火，在那种场合与他的身份极不相称。她当时是多么地难受啊。

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