第 112 节
作者:不受约束      更新:2021-05-04 17:23      字数:9158
  thoughtful look。
  ‘Certainly。’
  ‘Oh!’ said Traddles。 ‘Yes; to be sure! I am very much obliged to
  you; Copperfield; but—I am afraid I have lent him that already。’
  ‘For the bill that is to be a certain investment?’ I inquired。
  ‘No;’ said Traddles。 ‘Not for that one。 This is the first I have
  heard of that one。 I have been thinking that he will most likely
  propose that one; on the way home。 Mine’s another。’
  ‘I hope there will be nothing wrong about it;’ said I。 ‘I hope not;’
  said Traddles。 ‘I should think not; though; because he told me;
  only the other day; that it was provided for。 That was Mr。
  Micawber’s expression; “Provided for。”’
  Mr。 Micawber looking up at this juncture to where we were
  standing; I had only time to repeat my caution。 Traddles thanked
  me; and descended。 But I was much afraid; when I observed the
  good…natured manner in which he went down with the cap in his
  hand; and gave Mrs。 Micawber his arm; that he would be carried
  into the Money Market neck and heels。
  I returned to my fireside; and was musing; half gravely and half
  laughing; on the character of Mr。 Micawber and the old relations
  between us; when I heard a quick step ascending the stairs。 At
  first; I thought it was Traddles coming back for something Mrs。
  Micawber had left behind; but as the step approached; I knew it;
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  David Copperfield
  and felt my heart beat high; and the blood rush to my face; for it
  was Steerforth’s。
  I was never unmindful of Agnes; and she never left that
  sanctuary in my thoughts—if I may call it so—where I had placed
  her from the first。 But when he entered; and stood before me with
  his hand out; the darkness that had fallen on him changed to light;
  and I felt confounded and ashamed of having doubted one I loved
  so heartily。 I loved her none the less; I thought of her as the same
  benignant; gentle angel in my life; I reproached myself; not her;
  with having done him an injury; and I would have made him any
  atonement if I had known what to make; and how to make it。
  ‘Why; Daisy; old boy; dumb…foundered!’ laughed Steerforth;
  shaking my hand heartily; and throwing it gaily away。 ‘Have I
  detected you in another feast; you Sybarite! These Doctors’
  Commons fellows are the gayest men in town; I believe; and beat
  us sober Oxford people all to nothing!’ His bright glance went
  merrily round the room; as he took the seat on the sofa opposite to
  me; which Mrs。 Micawber had recently vacated; and stirred the
  fire into a blaze。
  ‘I was so surprised at first;’ said I; giving him welcome with all
  the cordiality I felt; ‘that I had hardly breath to greet you with;
  Steerforth。’
  ‘Well; the sight of me is good for sore eyes; as the Scotch say;’
  replied Steerforth; ‘and so is the sight of you; Daisy; in full bloom。
  How are you; my Bacchanal?’
  ‘I am very well;’ said I; ‘and not at all Bacchanalian tonight;
  though I confess to another party of three。’
  ‘All of whom I met in the street; talking loud in your praise;’
  returned Steerforth。 ‘Who’s our friend in the tights?’
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  David Copperfield
  I gave him the best idea I could; in a few words; of Mr。
  Micawber。 He laughed heartily at my feeble portrait of that
  gentleman; and said he was a man to know; and he must know
  him。 ‘But who do you suppose our other friend is?’ said I; in my
  turn。
  ‘Heaven knows;’ said Steerforth。 ‘Not a bore; I hope? I thought
  he looked a little like one。’
  ‘Traddles!’ I replied; triumphantly。
  ‘Who’s he?’ asked Steerforth; in his careless way。
  ‘Don’t you remember Traddles? Traddles in our room at Salem
  House?’
  ‘Oh! That fellow!’ said Steerforth; beating a lump of coal on the
  top of the fire; with the poker。 ‘Is he as soft as ever? And where the
  deuce did you pick him up?’
  I extolled Traddles in reply; as highly as I could; for I felt that
  Steerforth rather slighted him。 Steerforth; dismissing the subject
  with a light nod; and a smile; and the remark that he would be
  glad to see the old fellow too; for he had always been an odd fish;
  inquired if I could give him anything to eat? During most of this
  short dialogue; when he had not been speaking in a wild vivacious
  manner; he had sat idly beating on the lump of coal with the
  poker。 I observed that he did the same thing while I was getting
  out the remains of the pigeon…pie; and so forth。
  ‘Why; Daisy; here’s a supper for a king!’ he exclaimed; starting
  out of his silence with a burst; and taking his seat at the table。 ‘I
  shall do it justice; for I have come from Yarmouth。’
  ‘I thought you came from Oxford?’ I returned。
  ‘Not I;’ said Steerforth。 ‘I have been seafaring—better
  employed。’
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  David Copperfield
  ‘Littimer was here today; to inquire for you;’ I remarked; ‘and I
  understood him that you were at Oxford; though; now I think of it;
  he certainly did not say so。’
  ‘Littimer is a greater fool than I thought him; to have been
  inquiring for me at all;’ said Steerforth; jovially pouring out a glass
  of wine; and drinking to me。 ‘As to understanding him; you are a
  cleverer fellow than most of us; Daisy; if you can do that。’
  ‘That’s true; indeed;’ said I; moving my chair to the table。 ‘So
  you have been at Yarmouth; Steerforth!’ interested to know all
  about it。 ‘Have you been there long?’
  ‘No;’ he returned。 ‘An escapade of a week or so。’
  ‘And how are they all? Of course; little Emily is not married
  yet?’
  ‘Not yet。 Going to be; I believe—in so many weeks; or months;
  or something or other。 I have not seen much of ’em。 By the by’; he
  laid down his knife and fork; which he had been using with great
  diligence; and began feeling in his pockets; ‘I have a letter for you。’
  ‘From whom?’
  ‘Why; from your old nurse;’ he returned; taking some papers
  out of his breast pocket。 “‘J。 Steerforth; Esquire; debtor; to The
  Willing Mind”; that’s not it。 Patience; and we’ll find it presently。
  Old what’s…his…name’s in a bad way; and it’s about that; I believe。’
  ‘Barkis; do you mean?’
  ‘Yes!’ still feeling in his pockets; and looking over their
  contents: ‘it’s all over with poor Barkis; I am afraid。 I saw a little
  apothecary there—surgeon; or whatever he is—who brought your
  worship into the world。 He was mighty learned about the case; to
  me; but the upshot of his opinion was; that the carrier was making
  his last journey rather fast。—Put your hand into the breast pocket
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  David Copperfield
  of my great…coat on the chair yonder; and I think you’ll find the
  letter。 Is it there?’
  ‘Here it is!’ said I。
  ‘That’s right!’
  It was from Peggotty; something less legible than usual; and
  brief。 It informed me of her husband’s hopeless state; and hinted
  at his being ‘a little nearer’ than heretofore; and consequently
  more difficult to manage for his own comfort。 It said nothing of her
  weariness and watching; and praised him highly。 It was written
  with a plain; unaffected; homely piety that I knew to be genuine;
  and ended with ‘my duty to my ever darling’—meaning myself。
  While I deciphered it; Steerforth continued to eat and drink。
  ‘It’s a bad job;’ he said; when I had done; ‘but the sun sets every
  day; and people die every minute; and we mustn’t be scared by the
  common lot。 If we failed to hold our own; because that equal foot
  at all men’s doors was heard knocking somewhere; every object in
  this world would slip from us。 No! Ride on! Rough…shod if need be;
  smooth…shod if that will do; but ride on! Ride on over all obstacles;
  and win the race!’
  ‘And win what race?’ said I。
  ‘The race that one has started in;’ said he。 ‘Ride on!’
  I noticed; I remember; as he paused; looking at me with his
  handsome head a little thrown back; and his glass raised in his
  hand; that; though the freshness of the sea…wind was on his face;
  and it was ruddy; there were traces in it; made since I last saw it;
  as if he had applied himself to some habitual strain of the fervent
  energy which; when roused; was so passionately roused within
  him。 I had it in my thoughts to remonstrate with him upon his
  desperate way of pursuing any fancy that he took—such as this
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  David Copperfield
  buffeting of rough seas; and braving of hard weather; for
  example—when my mind glanced off to the immediate subject of
  our conversation again; and pursued that instead。
  ‘I tell you what; Steerforth;’ said I; ‘if your high spirits will listen
  to me—’
  ‘They are potent spirits; and will do whatever you like;’ he
  answered; moving from the table to the fireside again。
  ‘Then I tell you what; Steerforth。 I think I will go down and see
  my old nurse。 It is not that I can do her any good; or render her
  any real service; but she is so attached to me that my visit will
  have as much effect on her; as if I could do both。 She will