david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第79章
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only Steerforth was with me； helping me to undress； and where I
was by turns telling him that Agnes was my sister； and adjuring
him to bring the corkscrew； that I might open another bottle of
wine。
How somebody； lying in my bed； lay saying and doing all this
over again； at cross purposes； in a feverish dream all night—the
bed a rocking sea that was never still！ How； as that somebody
slowly settled down into myself； did I begin to parch； and feel as if
my outer covering of skin were a hard board； my tongue the
bottom of an empty kettle； furred with long service； and burning
up over a slow fire； the palms of my hands； hot plates of metal
which no ice could cool！
But the agony of mind； the remorse； and shame I felt when I
became conscious next day！ My horror of having committed a
thousand offences I had forgotten； and which nothing could ever
expiate—my recollection of that indelible look which Agnes had
given me—the torturing impossibility of communicating with her；
not knowing； Beast that I was； how she came to be in London； or
where she stayed—my disgust of the very sight of the room where
the revel had been held—my racking head—the smell of smoke；
the sight of glasses； the impossibility of going out； or even getting
up！ Oh； what a day it was！
Oh； what an evening； when I sat down by my fire to a basin of
mutton broth； dimpled all over with fat； and thought I was going
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David Copperfield
the way of my predecessor； and should succeed to his dismal story
as well as to his chambers； and had half a mind to rush express to
Dover and reveal all！ What an evening； when Mrs。 Crupp； coming
in to take away the broth…basin； produced one kidney on a cheese…
plate as the entire remains of yesterday’s feast； and I was really
inclined to fall upon her nankeen breast and say； in heartfelt
penitence； ‘Oh； Mrs。 Crupp； Mrs。 Crupp； never mind the broken
meats！ I am very miserable！’—only that I doubted； even at that
pass； if Mrs。 Crupp were quite the sort of woman to confide in！
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David Copperfield
Chapter 25
GOOD AND BAD ANGELS
Iwas going out at my door on the morning after that
deplorable day of headache； sickness； and repentance； with
an odd confusion in my mind relative to the date of my
dinner…party； as if a body of Titans had taken an enormous lever
and pushed the day before yesterday some months back； when I
saw a ticket…porter coming upstairs； with a letter in his hand。 He
was taking his time about his errand； then； but when he saw me
on the top of the staircase； looking at him over the banisters； he
swung into a trot； and came up panting as if he had run himself
into a state of exhaustion。
‘T。 Copperfield； Esquire；’ said the ticket…porter； touching his hat
with his little cane。
I could scarcely lay claim to the name： I was so disturbed by the
conviction that the letter came from Agnes。 However； I told him I
was T。 Copperfield； Esquire； and he believed it； and gave me the
letter； which he said required an answer。 I shut him out on the
landing to wait for the answer； and went into my chambers again；
in such a nervous state that I was fain to lay the letter down on my
breakfast table； and familiarize myself with the outside of it a little；
before I could resolve to break the seal。
I found； when I did open it； that it was a very kind note；
containing no reference to my condition at the theatre。 All it said
was； ‘My dear Trotwood。 I am staying at the house of papa’s agent；
Mr。 Waterbrook； in Ely Place； Holborn。 Will you come and see me
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David Copperfield
today； at any time you like to appoint？ Ever yours affectionately；
AGNES。’
It took me such a long time to write an answer at all to my
satisfaction； that I don’t know what the ticket…porter can have
thought； unless he thought I was learning to write。 I must have
written half…a…dozen answers at least。 I began one； ‘How can I ever
hope； my dear Agnes； to efface from your remembrance the
disgusting impression’—there I didn’t like it； and then I tore it up。
I began another； ‘Shakespeare has observed； my dear Agnes； how
strange it is that a man should put an enemy into his mouth’—that
reminded me of Markham； and it got no farther。 I even tried
poetry。 I began one note； in a six…syllable line； ‘Oh； do not
remember’—but that associated itself with the fifth of November；
and became an absurdity。 After many attempts； I wrote； ‘My dear
Agnes。 Your letter is like you； and what could I say of it that would
be higher praise than that？ I will come at four o’clock。
Affectionately and sorrowfully； T。C。’ With this missive （which I
was in twenty minds at once about recalling； as soon as it was out
of my hands）； the ticket…porter at last departed。
If the day were half as tremendous to any other professional
gentleman in Doctors’ Commons as it was to me； I sincerely
believe he made some expiation for his share in that rotten old
ecclesiastical cheese。 Although I left the office at half past three；
and was prowling about the place of appointment within a few
minutes afterwards； the appointed time was exceeded by a full
quarter of an hour； according to the clock of St。 Andrew’s；
Holborn； before I could muster up sufficient desperation to pull
the private bell…handle let into the left…hand door…post of Mr。
Waterbrook’s house。
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David Copperfield
The professional business of Mr。 Waterbrook’s establishment
was done on the ground…floor； and the genteel business （of which
there was a good deal） in the upper part of the building。 I was
shown into a pretty but rather close drawing…room； and there sat
Agnes； netting a purse。
She looked so quiet and good； and reminded me so strongly of
my airy fresh school days at Canterbury； and the sodden； smoky；
stupid wretch I had been the other night； that； nobody being by； I
yielded to my self…reproach and shame； and—in short； made a fool
of myself。 I cannot deny that I shed tears。 To this hour I am
undecided whether it was upon the whole the wisest thing I could
have done； or the most ridiculous。
‘If it had been anyone but you； Agnes；’ said I； turning away my
head； ‘I should not have minded it half so much。 But that it should
have been you who saw me！ I almost wish I had been dead； first。’
She put her hand—its touch was like no other hand—upon my
arm for a moment； and I felt so befriended and comforted； that I
could not help moving it to my lips； and gratefully kissing it。
‘Sit down；’ said Agnes； cheerfully。 ‘Don’t be unhappy；
Trotwood。 If you cannot confidently trust me； whom will you
trust？’
‘Ah； Agnes！’ I returned。 ‘You are my good Angel！’
She smiled rather sadly； I thought； and shook her head。
‘Yes； Agnes； my good Angel！ Always my good Angel！’
‘If I were； indeed； Trotwood；’ she returned； ‘there is one thing
that I should set my heart on very much。’
I looked at her inquiringly； but already with a foreknowledge of
her meaning。
‘On warning you；’ said Agnes； with a steady glance； ‘against
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your bad Angel。’
‘My dear Agnes；’ I began； ‘if you mean Steerforth—’
‘I do； Trotwood；’ she returned。 ‘Then； Agnes； you wrong him
very much。 He my bad Angel； or anyone’s！ He； anything but a
guide； a support； and a friend to me！ My dear Agnes！ Now； is it not
unjust； and unlike you； to judge him from what you saw of me the
other night？’
‘I do not judge him from what I saw of you the other night；’ she
quietly replied。
‘From what； then？’
‘From many things—trifles in themselves； but they do not seem
to me to be so； when they are put together。 I judge him； partly
from your account of him； Trotwood； and your character； and the
influence he has over you。’
There was always something in her modest voice that seemed
to touch a chord within me； answering to that sound alone。 It was
always earnest； but when it was very earnest； as it was now； there
was a thrill in it that quite subdued me。 I sat looking at her as she
cast her eyes down on her work； I sat seeming still to listen to her；
and Steerforth； in spite of all my attachment to him； darkened in
that tone。
‘It is very bold in me；’ said Agnes； looking up again； ‘who have
lived in such seclusion； and can know so little of the world； to give
you my advice so confidently； or even to have this strong opinion。
But I know in what it is engendered； Trotwood；—in how true a
remembrance of our having grown up together； and in how true
an interest in all relating to you。 It is that which makes me bold。 I
am certain that what I say is right。 I am quite sure it is。 I feel as if it
were someone else speaking to you； and not I； when I caution you
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David Copperfield
that you have made a dangerous friend。’
Again I looked at her； again I listened to her after she was
silent； and again his image； though it was still fixed in my heart；
darkened。
‘I am not so unreasonable as to expect；’ said Agnes； resuming
her usual tone； after a little while； ‘that you will； or that you can； at
once； change any sentiment that has become a conviction to you；
least of all a sentiment that is rooted in your trusting disposition。
You ought not hastily to do that。 I only ask you； Trotwood； if you
ever think of me—I mean；’ with a quiet smile； for I was going to
interrupt her； and she knew why； ‘as often as you think of me—to
think of what I have said。 Do you forgive me for all this？’
‘I will forgive you； Agnes；’ I replied； ‘when you come to do
Steerforth justice； and to like him as well as I do。’
‘Not until then？’ said Agnes。
I saw a passing shadow on her face when I made this mention
of him； but she returned my smile； and we were again as
unreserved in our mutual confidence as of old。
‘And when； Agnes；’ said I； ‘will you forgive me the other night？’
‘When I recall it；’ said Agnes。
She would have dismissed the subject so； but I was too full of it
to allow that； and insisted on telling her how it happened that I
had disgraced myself； and what chain of accidental circumstances
had had the theatre for its final link。 It was a great relief to me to
do this； and to enlarge on the obligation that I owed to Steerforth
for his care of me when I was unable to take care of myself。
‘You must not forget；’ said Agnes； calmly changing the
conversation as soon as I had concluded； ‘that you are always to
tell me； not only when you fall into trouble； but when you fall in
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David Copperfield
love。 Who has succeeded to Miss Larkins； Trotwood？’
‘No one； Agnes。’
‘Someone； Trotwood；’ said Agnes； laughing； and holding up her
finger。
‘No； Agnes； upon my word！ There is a lady； certainly； at Mrs。
Steerforth’s house； who is very clever； and whom I like to talk to—
Miss Dartle�
