论文部分内容阅读
Rose was in the garden when the telephone rang. Her dog, Smart, lay sleeping in the spring sunshine for he was old like she was. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as she made her way to the kitchen. With an 1)intuitive sense of doom she picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Hello, Rose, it’s Michelle. I’m afraid I have some very sad news,” she said. “George died yesterday. It was a gentle passing away. He didn’t suffer.” Rose sat down, unable to withstand so great a disappointment. “Are you alright?” she asked when Rose didn’t respond.
“Can I call you later?” Rose managed to whisper, straining her neck to suppress the sob that threatened to 2)engulf her.
“Of course.”
When Rose put down the telephone she buried her head in her rough hands and 3)gave way to despair.
After a while she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She opened the trunk that sat gathering dust on the 4)landing. She had dreamed that this moment would be one of great joy, so now the disappointment was all the more acute.
Suddenly the air was filled with the unmistakeable scent of George for the trunk contained 5)remnants of their life together, now over fifty years ago, when they had been engaged to be married. There was always hope and while there was hope the contents of the trunk were left to 6)ferment.
With her faithful Smart lying beside her she began to go through every single item. First she picked up a faded ivory envelope which contained the stiff invitation to Michelle’s twenty-first birthday party in London. Michelle was her 7)first cousin and it was she who had introduced Rose to George. They had been best friends at school and were then at university together. Rose had fallen in love with George on sight.
Rose was 8)wrenched back to the present moment and to the painful reminder that George had always been in love with someone else for the next item she pulled out of the trunk was a small photograph of the three of them together in Provence: herself, George and Michelle. She hadn’t been aware that theirs was a friendship with which she could never compete. How love had blinded her to the true nature of her cousin’s friendship with her fiancé.
The little box that contained her engagement ring had fallen to the very bottom of the trunk. She recalled that the last couple of days of their holiday had been 9)draped in a curious 10)disquiet. She knew inside that something had altered their relationship. She hadn’t expected it to be Michelle.
George had told her on their last night. “If we marry I’ll be living a lie, Rose,” he had explained. His eyes 11)glistened with 12)remorse. “My heart will always belong to another. I care about you too much to deny you what you deserve.” Rose had frowned and he had lowered his eyes in shame. “I love Michelle.” Those words had left an open wound that still ached to this day.
The engagement had been broken and Rose had 13)embarked on a life alone. George rose to a position of importance in the art world so that occasionally she read about him in the papers. These cuttings she kept in a drawer of her dressing table. She hadn’t opened the trunk until now.
The only thing that had kept her going was a small glimmer of hope. But that hope had recently been extinguished with the terrible news of his illness. Why George? Why not Michelle?
It was late when she had composed herself enough to call Michelle back. In her hand she held the slippers she had 14)embroidered for George. She had sewn them over the years in the hope that perhaps he would one day wear them as an old man. Now it would never be.
Michelle answered almost immediately. She had obviously been waiting for Rose’s call. “Hello Michelle, it’s Rose.”
“How are you, Rose?” she said, her voice heavy with compassion.
“I’m okay.” she sighed.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise…”
“Then you’re more of a fool than I.” She paused a moment then said 15)resolutely. “I can tell you the truth now, Michelle, because George is dead.”
“Go on.”
At that point Rose’s voice 16)shuddered, but she managed to 17)pull herself together.
“I never stopped loving George and I never gave up hoping. I hoped, I prayed, that you would go before him so that I could at least share his final years with him. I wanted to look after him, you see. I had lived for it. But now he’s gone. Gone.” Her voice 18)trailed off.
“I’m sorry.” Michelle felt humbled by the strength of her love and sad because George had never known how much she had adored him.
When Michelle dropped by to see Rose, Rose was lying pale and still on the bed. On her finger shone the diamond George had given her and in her hands she clutched a pair of embroidered slippers. On closer inspection she realized that Rose had made them for George for they bore his initials in large gold letters 19)entwined with those of the two people he had loved most: R for Rose and M for Michelle.
电话响起时，罗斯正在花园里。她的狗，斯玛特，和她一样已经年老，躺在春日的阳光下睡觉。走进厨房时，她的眼睛慢慢适应了屋里的黑暗。怀着不祥的预感，她拿起了听筒。“你好？”
“你好，罗斯，我是米歇尔。我恐怕有个坏消息要告诉你，”她说，“乔治昨天去世了。他走得很平静，没有痛苦。”罗斯坐了下来，经受不起如此大的打击。
“你还好吗？”没有听到罗斯应答，米歇尔问道。
“我晚点再打电话给你好吗？”罗斯勉强低声挤出几个字，使劲仰着脖子，抑制啜泣，不让自己彻底崩溃。
“当然可以。”
放下电话之后，罗斯将头埋在粗糙的双手中，完全陷入了绝望。
过了一会儿，她爬上通往卧室的楼梯，打开放在楼梯平台上那积满灰尘的箱子。她曾经梦想过这个时刻会是一大欢乐时刻，因而，现在失望来得更加强烈了。
突然间，空气里毋庸置疑地满是乔治的味道，因为箱子里装着的是他们共同生活的记忆残片，那是50多年前，他们刚刚订婚的时候。生活总存在着希望，而因为希望的存在，箱子里的东西搁在时间的角落里发酵着。
忠心的斯玛特陪伴在旁，罗斯开始仔细查看里面的每一样物品。首先，她拿起一个褪色的象牙色信封，里面装着米歇尔在伦敦举行21岁生日派对时的邀请卡，卡片如今已经变硬了。米歇尔是她的堂姐妹，是她将罗斯介绍给乔治认识的。他们在中学时已是好友，然后就读同一所大学。罗斯见到乔治的第一眼便爱上了他。
她接着从箱子里拿出一张他们三人在普罗旺斯的小合照：她，乔治和米歇尔。这张照片把罗斯“扳回”眼前的时刻，触物伤情，想到乔治一直爱的是别人。 那时的她并没有意识到，他们之间的友谊是一种她无法角逐的友谊。爱情蒙蔽了她，使她看不清米歇尔跟自己未婚夫之间那份友谊的真正本质。
装着她的订婚戒指的小盒子已经掉落到箱子的最底部。她回想起他们假期的最后几天陷入了一种奇怪的不安之中。她意识到有些东西已经使他们的关系变质了，只是她没有料到那会是米歇尔。
乔治在他们假期最后一天的晚上告诉了她真相。“如果我们结婚了，我将会活在谎言之中，罗斯，”他解释道，眼中满是懊悔。“我的心一直属于另一个人。我太在乎你了，我不忍心不给你应得的名分。”罗斯紧皱眉头，而他则羞愧地低下了头。“我爱米歇尔。”那些话语在罗斯心中留下了一道无法愈合的伤口，时至今日仍隐隐作痛。
婚约被毁了，罗斯开始独自一人生活。后来乔治在艺术界颇有名望，所以偶尔她会在报纸上看到他。她把那些报纸剪报都存放在梳妆台的一个抽屉里。她直到现在才把箱子打开。
支撑她一直走下去的唯一一样东西是那一丁点希望。但是那点希望最近随着他患病的噩耗破灭了。为什么是乔治？为什么不是米歇尔？
等她情绪稍为平复，可以回电话给米歇尔时已经很晚了。她手上拿着亲手为乔治绣的拖鞋。这些年来，她满心期待地缝制这双拖鞋，想着有朝一日已然老去的他会穿上这鞋。可是，这个情景永远不会出现了。
米歇尔几乎是马上接听电话的，她显然一直在等罗斯的电话。“你好，米歇尔，我是罗斯。”
“你怎么样，罗斯？”她说，声音中满是怜悯。
“我还好。”她叹气道。
“很抱歉。我没有意识到……”
“那你比我更傻。”她停顿片刻后坚定地说，“我现在可以告诉你真相了，米歇尔，因为乔治已经死了。”
“愿闻其详。”
在那一刻，罗斯的声音颤抖着，但她尽量让自己镇定下来。
“我对乔治的爱从来没有停止过，我也从来没有放弃过希望。我希望，我祈祷，你可以比他先离开，那样我便可以和他一起度过最后那几年。我想照顾他，你知道。我活着就是为了这样。但是现在他走了。走了。”她的声音越来越弱。
“我很抱歉。”面对她如此强烈的爱，米歇尔感到谦卑，同时也感到悲伤，因为乔治从来不知道罗斯如此爱他。
当米歇尔去看望罗斯时，罗斯脸色苍白，一动不动地躺在床上。她手指上戴着那枚乔治送给她的闪闪发亮的钻戒，手上握着一双绣花拖鞋。凑近一看，米歇尔意识到，那是罗斯为乔治做的，因为拖鞋上绣着大大的金色字体，那是乔治的姓名首字母，与之缠绕在一起的是乔治曾经深深爱过的两个人的姓名首字母：R代表罗斯，M代表米歇尔。
“Hello, Rose, it’s Michelle. I’m afraid I have some very sad news,” she said. “George died yesterday. It was a gentle passing away. He didn’t suffer.” Rose sat down, unable to withstand so great a disappointment. “Are you alright?” she asked when Rose didn’t respond.
“Can I call you later?” Rose managed to whisper, straining her neck to suppress the sob that threatened to 2)engulf her.
“Of course.”
When Rose put down the telephone she buried her head in her rough hands and 3)gave way to despair.
After a while she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She opened the trunk that sat gathering dust on the 4)landing. She had dreamed that this moment would be one of great joy, so now the disappointment was all the more acute.
Suddenly the air was filled with the unmistakeable scent of George for the trunk contained 5)remnants of their life together, now over fifty years ago, when they had been engaged to be married. There was always hope and while there was hope the contents of the trunk were left to 6)ferment.
With her faithful Smart lying beside her she began to go through every single item. First she picked up a faded ivory envelope which contained the stiff invitation to Michelle’s twenty-first birthday party in London. Michelle was her 7)first cousin and it was she who had introduced Rose to George. They had been best friends at school and were then at university together. Rose had fallen in love with George on sight.
Rose was 8)wrenched back to the present moment and to the painful reminder that George had always been in love with someone else for the next item she pulled out of the trunk was a small photograph of the three of them together in Provence: herself, George and Michelle. She hadn’t been aware that theirs was a friendship with which she could never compete. How love had blinded her to the true nature of her cousin’s friendship with her fiancé.
The little box that contained her engagement ring had fallen to the very bottom of the trunk. She recalled that the last couple of days of their holiday had been 9)draped in a curious 10)disquiet. She knew inside that something had altered their relationship. She hadn’t expected it to be Michelle.
George had told her on their last night. “If we marry I’ll be living a lie, Rose,” he had explained. His eyes 11)glistened with 12)remorse. “My heart will always belong to another. I care about you too much to deny you what you deserve.” Rose had frowned and he had lowered his eyes in shame. “I love Michelle.” Those words had left an open wound that still ached to this day.
The engagement had been broken and Rose had 13)embarked on a life alone. George rose to a position of importance in the art world so that occasionally she read about him in the papers. These cuttings she kept in a drawer of her dressing table. She hadn’t opened the trunk until now.
The only thing that had kept her going was a small glimmer of hope. But that hope had recently been extinguished with the terrible news of his illness. Why George? Why not Michelle?
It was late when she had composed herself enough to call Michelle back. In her hand she held the slippers she had 14)embroidered for George. She had sewn them over the years in the hope that perhaps he would one day wear them as an old man. Now it would never be.
Michelle answered almost immediately. She had obviously been waiting for Rose’s call. “Hello Michelle, it’s Rose.”
“How are you, Rose?” she said, her voice heavy with compassion.
“I’m okay.” she sighed.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise…”
“Then you’re more of a fool than I.” She paused a moment then said 15)resolutely. “I can tell you the truth now, Michelle, because George is dead.”
“Go on.”
At that point Rose’s voice 16)shuddered, but she managed to 17)pull herself together.
“I never stopped loving George and I never gave up hoping. I hoped, I prayed, that you would go before him so that I could at least share his final years with him. I wanted to look after him, you see. I had lived for it. But now he’s gone. Gone.” Her voice 18)trailed off.
“I’m sorry.” Michelle felt humbled by the strength of her love and sad because George had never known how much she had adored him.
When Michelle dropped by to see Rose, Rose was lying pale and still on the bed. On her finger shone the diamond George had given her and in her hands she clutched a pair of embroidered slippers. On closer inspection she realized that Rose had made them for George for they bore his initials in large gold letters 19)entwined with those of the two people he had loved most: R for Rose and M for Michelle.
电话响起时，罗斯正在花园里。她的狗，斯玛特，和她一样已经年老，躺在春日的阳光下睡觉。走进厨房时，她的眼睛慢慢适应了屋里的黑暗。怀着不祥的预感，她拿起了听筒。“你好？”
“你好，罗斯，我是米歇尔。我恐怕有个坏消息要告诉你，”她说，“乔治昨天去世了。他走得很平静，没有痛苦。”罗斯坐了下来，经受不起如此大的打击。
“你还好吗？”没有听到罗斯应答，米歇尔问道。
“我晚点再打电话给你好吗？”罗斯勉强低声挤出几个字，使劲仰着脖子，抑制啜泣，不让自己彻底崩溃。
“当然可以。”
放下电话之后，罗斯将头埋在粗糙的双手中，完全陷入了绝望。
过了一会儿，她爬上通往卧室的楼梯，打开放在楼梯平台上那积满灰尘的箱子。她曾经梦想过这个时刻会是一大欢乐时刻，因而，现在失望来得更加强烈了。
突然间，空气里毋庸置疑地满是乔治的味道，因为箱子里装着的是他们共同生活的记忆残片，那是50多年前，他们刚刚订婚的时候。生活总存在着希望，而因为希望的存在，箱子里的东西搁在时间的角落里发酵着。
忠心的斯玛特陪伴在旁，罗斯开始仔细查看里面的每一样物品。首先，她拿起一个褪色的象牙色信封，里面装着米歇尔在伦敦举行21岁生日派对时的邀请卡，卡片如今已经变硬了。米歇尔是她的堂姐妹，是她将罗斯介绍给乔治认识的。他们在中学时已是好友，然后就读同一所大学。罗斯见到乔治的第一眼便爱上了他。
她接着从箱子里拿出一张他们三人在普罗旺斯的小合照：她，乔治和米歇尔。这张照片把罗斯“扳回”眼前的时刻，触物伤情，想到乔治一直爱的是别人。 那时的她并没有意识到，他们之间的友谊是一种她无法角逐的友谊。爱情蒙蔽了她，使她看不清米歇尔跟自己未婚夫之间那份友谊的真正本质。
装着她的订婚戒指的小盒子已经掉落到箱子的最底部。她回想起他们假期的最后几天陷入了一种奇怪的不安之中。她意识到有些东西已经使他们的关系变质了，只是她没有料到那会是米歇尔。
乔治在他们假期最后一天的晚上告诉了她真相。“如果我们结婚了，我将会活在谎言之中，罗斯，”他解释道，眼中满是懊悔。“我的心一直属于另一个人。我太在乎你了，我不忍心不给你应得的名分。”罗斯紧皱眉头，而他则羞愧地低下了头。“我爱米歇尔。”那些话语在罗斯心中留下了一道无法愈合的伤口，时至今日仍隐隐作痛。
婚约被毁了，罗斯开始独自一人生活。后来乔治在艺术界颇有名望，所以偶尔她会在报纸上看到他。她把那些报纸剪报都存放在梳妆台的一个抽屉里。她直到现在才把箱子打开。
支撑她一直走下去的唯一一样东西是那一丁点希望。但是那点希望最近随着他患病的噩耗破灭了。为什么是乔治？为什么不是米歇尔？
等她情绪稍为平复，可以回电话给米歇尔时已经很晚了。她手上拿着亲手为乔治绣的拖鞋。这些年来，她满心期待地缝制这双拖鞋，想着有朝一日已然老去的他会穿上这鞋。可是，这个情景永远不会出现了。
米歇尔几乎是马上接听电话的，她显然一直在等罗斯的电话。“你好，米歇尔，我是罗斯。”
“你怎么样，罗斯？”她说，声音中满是怜悯。
“我还好。”她叹气道。
“很抱歉。我没有意识到……”
“那你比我更傻。”她停顿片刻后坚定地说，“我现在可以告诉你真相了，米歇尔，因为乔治已经死了。”
“愿闻其详。”
在那一刻，罗斯的声音颤抖着，但她尽量让自己镇定下来。
“我对乔治的爱从来没有停止过，我也从来没有放弃过希望。我希望，我祈祷，你可以比他先离开，那样我便可以和他一起度过最后那几年。我想照顾他，你知道。我活着就是为了这样。但是现在他走了。走了。”她的声音越来越弱。
“我很抱歉。”面对她如此强烈的爱，米歇尔感到谦卑，同时也感到悲伤，因为乔治从来不知道罗斯如此爱他。
当米歇尔去看望罗斯时，罗斯脸色苍白，一动不动地躺在床上。她手指上戴着那枚乔治送给她的闪闪发亮的钻戒，手上握着一双绣花拖鞋。凑近一看，米歇尔意识到，那是罗斯为乔治做的，因为拖鞋上绣着大大的金色字体，那是乔治的姓名首字母，与之缠绕在一起的是乔治曾经深深爱过的两个人的姓名首字母：R代表罗斯，M代表米歇尔。