第 5 节
作者:寻找山吹      更新:2022-11-28 19:12      字数:9322
  the   West   Side。    In   those   days   it   took   her   almost   two   hours   each   way。
  She   said   the   kind   of   costume   she   required   should   have   been   corrugated
  steel。    But   all   three   knew   what   was   being   worn;   and   they   wore   itor
  fairly   faithful   copies   of   it。 Eva;   the   housekeeping   sister;   had   a   needle
  knack。     She could skim the State Street windows and come away with a
  mental photograph of every separate tuck; hem; yoke; and ribbon。                      Heads
  of departments showed her the things they kept in drawers; and she went
  home and reproduced them with the aid of a seamstress by the day。                      Stell;
  the youngest; was the beauty。           They called her Babe。
  Twenty…three   years   ago   one's   sisters   did   not   strain   at   the   household
  leash; nor crave a career。         Carrie taught school; and hated it。            Eva kept
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  house     expertly    and   complainingly。       Babe's     profession     was   being    the
  family  beauty;   and   it   took   all   her   spare   time。 Eva   always   let   her   sleep
  until ten。
  This was Jo's household; and he was the nominal head of it。                      But it
  was an empty title。        The three women dominated his life。               They weren't
  con… sciously selfish。        If you had called them cruel they would have put
  you   down   as   mad。      When   you   are   the   lone   brother   of   three   sisters;   it
  means that you must constantly be calling for; escorting; or dropping one
  of   them   somewhere。       Most   men   of   Jo's   age   were   standing   before   their
  mirror of a Saturday night; whistling blithely and abstractedly while they
  discarded a blue polka…dot for a maroon tie; whipped off the maroon for a
  shot…silk and at the last moment decided against the shot…silk in favor of a
  plain black…and…white because she had once said she preferred quiet ties。
  Jo;   when   he   should   have   been   preening   his   feathers   for   conquest;   was
  saying:
  〃Well; my God; I AM hurrying!              Give a man time; can't you?            I just
  got home。       You girls been laying around the house all day。                No wonder
  you're ready。〃
  He   took   a   certain   pride   in   seeing   his   sisters   well   dressed;   at   a   time
  when he should have been reveling in fancy waistcoats and brilliant…hued
  socks; according to the style of that day and the inalienable right of any
  unwed male under thirty; in any day。              On those rare occasions when his
  business     necessitated     an  out…of…town      trip;  he  would    spend    half  a  day
  floundering      about    the  shops    selecting    handkerchiefs;      or  stockings;    or
  feathers; or gloves for the girls。         They always turned out to be the wrong
  kind; judging by their reception。
  From Carrie; 〃What in the world do I want of long white gloves!〃
  〃I thought you didn't have any;〃 Jo would say。
  〃I haven't。     I never wear evening clothes。〃
  Jo would pass a futile hand over the top of his head; as was his way
  when   disturbed。      〃I   just   thought   you'd   like   them。  I   thought   every   girl
  liked long white gloves。         Just;〃 feebly; 〃just toto have。〃
  〃Oh; for pity's sake!〃
  And   from   Eva   or   Babe;   〃I've   GOT   silk   stockings;   Jo。〃      Or;   〃You
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  brought me handkerchiefs the last time。〃
  There   was something   selfish   in his   giving;   as   there always   is in   any
  gift   freely   and   joyfully    made。     They     never    suspected    the   exquisite
  pleasure it gave him to select these things; these fine; soft; silken things。
  There were many things about this slow…going; amiable brother of theirs
  that   they   never   suspected。    If   you   had   told   them   he   was   a   dreamer   of
  dreams; for example; they would have been amused。                    Sometimes; dead…
  tired by nine o'clock after a hard day downtown; he would doze over the
  evening   paper。      At   intervals   he   would   wake;   red…eyed;   to   a   snatch   of
  conversation such as; 〃Yes; but if you get a blue you can wear it anywhere。
  It's dressy; and at the same time it's quiet; too。〃         Eva; the expert; wrestling
  with    Carrie   over   the   problem    of  the   new    spring   dress。   They     never
  guessed that the com… monplace man in the frayed old smoking jacket had
  banished them all from the room long ago; had banished himself; for that
  matter。     In    his  place    was   a   tall;  debonair;   and    rather   dangerously
  handsome man to whom six o'clock spelled evening clothes。                   The kind of
  man who can lean up against a mantel; or propose a toast; or give an order
  to a manservant; or whisper a gallant speech in a lady's ear with equal ease。
  The     shabby    old   house    on   Calumet     Avenue     was   transformed      into  a
  brocaded      and   chandeliered     rendezvous      for  the   brilliance   of  the   city。
  Beauty was here; and wit。 But none so beautiful and witty as She。                  Mrs。
  erJo Hertz。      There was wine; of course; but no vulgar display。                There
  was music; the soft sheen of satin; laughter。           And he; the gracious; tactful
  host; king of his own domain
  〃Jo; for heaven's sake; if you're going to snore; go to bed!〃
  〃Whydid I fall asleep?〃
  〃You haven't been doing anything else all evening。                A person would
  think you were fifty instead of thirty。〃
  And Jo   Hertz   was   again   just   the   dull; gray;   commonplace brother   of
  three well…meaning sisters。
  Babe used to say petulantly; 〃Jo; why don't you ever bring home any
  of your men friends?         A girl might as well not have any brother; all the
  good you do。〃
  Jo; conscience…stricken; did his best to make amends。              But a man who
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  has    been    petticoat…ridden      for   years   loses    the   knack;    somehow;      of
  comradeship with men。
  One Sunday in May Jo came home from a late…Sunday…afternoon walk
  to find company for supper。          Carrie often had in one of her schoolteacher
  friends; or Babe one of her frivolous intimates; or even Eva a staid guest
  of the old…girl type。       There was always a Sunday…night supper of potato
  salad;   and   cold   meat;   and   coffee;   and   perhaps   a   fresh   cake。  Jo   rather
  enjoyed it; being a hospitable soul。           But he regarded the guests with the
  undazzled eyes of a man to whom they were just so many petticoats; timid
  of the night streets and requiring escort home。               If you had suggested to
  him that some of his sisters' popularity was due to his own presence; or if
  you   had   hinted   that   the   more   kittenish   of   these   visitors   were   probably
  making eyes at him; he would have stared in amazement and unbelief。
  This Sunday night it turned out to be one of Carrie's friends。
  〃Emily;〃 said Carrie; 〃this is my brother; Jo。〃
  Jo   had   learned    what    to  expect    in  Carrie's   friends。   Drab…looking
  women in the late thirties; whose facial lines all slanted downward。
  〃Happy   to   meet   you;〃   said   Jo;   and   looked   down   at   a   different   sort
  altogether。     A most surprisingly different sort; for one of Carrie's friends。
  This Emily person was very small; and fluffy; and blue…eyed; and crinkly
  looking。 The corners of her mouth   when she smiled; and her eyes   when
  she    looked    up   at  you;   and   her  hair;   which    was   brown;    but   had   the
  miraculous effect; somehow; of looking golden。
  Jo shook hands with her。         Her hand was incredibly small; and soft; so
  that   you   were   afraid   of   crushing   it;  until   you   discovered   she   had   a   firm
  little grip all her own。       It surprised and amused you; that grip; as does a
  baby's unexpected clutch on your patronizing forefinger。                  As Jo felt it in
  his own big clasp; the strangest thing happened to him。               Something inside
  Jo   Hertz   stopped   working   for   a   moment;   then   lurched   sickeningly;   then
  thumped like mad。         It was his heart。      He stood staring down at her; and
  she   up   at   him;   until   the   others   laughed。  Then   their   hands   fell   apart;
  lingeringly。
  〃Are you a schoolteacher; Emily?〃 he said。
  〃Kindergarten。       It's