狄更斯雙語小說:《董貝父子》第26章Part 3

'But I wish,' said Mr Dombey, without heeding the interruption, 'he had never gone on board that ship. I wish he had never been sent out.
'It is a pity you didn't say so, in good time, is it not?' retorted Carker, coolly. 'However, I think it's all for the best. I really, think it's all for the best. Did I mention that there was something like a little confidence between Miss Dombey and myself?'
'No,' said Mr Dombey, sternly.
'I have no doubt,' returned Mr Carker, after an impressive pause, 'that wherever Gay is, he is much better where he is, than at home here. If I were, or could be, in your place, I should be satisfied of that. I am quite satisfied of it myself. Miss Dombey is confiding and young - perhaps hardly proud enough, for your daughter - if she have a fault. Not that that is much though, I am sure. Will you check these balances with me?'
Mr Dombey leaned back in his chair, instead of bending over the papers that were laid before him, and looked the Manager steadily in the face. The Manager, with his eyelids slightly raised, affected to be glancing at his figures, and to await the leisure of his principal. He showed that he affected this, as if from great delicacy, and with a design to spare Mr Dombey's feelings; and the latter, as he looked at him, was cognizant of his intended consideration, and felt that but for it, this confidential Carker would have said a great deal more, which he, Mr Dombey, was too proud to ask for. It was his way in business, often. Little by little, Mr Dombey's gaze relaxed, and his attention became diverted to the papers before him; but while busy with the occupation they afforded him, he frequently stopped, and looked at Mr Carker again. Whenever he did so, Mr Carker was demonstrative, as before, in his delicacy, and impressed it on his great chief more and more.
While they were thus engaged; and under the skilful culture of the Manager, angry thoughts in reference to poor Florence brooded and bred in Mr Dombey's breast, usurping the place of the cold dislike that generally reigned there; Major Bagstock, much admired by the old ladies of Leamington, and followed by the Native, carrying the usual amount of light baggage, straddled along the shady side of the way, to make a morning call on Mrs Skewton. It being midday when the Major reached the bower of Cleopatra, he had the good fortune to find his Princess on her usual sofa, languishing over a cup of coffee, with the room so darkened and shaded for her more luxurious repose, that Withers, who was in attendance on her, loomed like a phantom page.
'What insupportable creature is this, coming in?' said Mrs Skewton, 'I cannot hear it. Go away, whoever you are!'
'You have not the heart to banish J. B., Ma'am!' said the Major halting midway, to remonstrate, with his cane over his shoulder.
'Oh it's you, is it? On second thoughts, you may enter,' observed Cleopatra.
The Major entered accordingly, and advancing to the sofa pressed her charming hand to his lips.
'Sit down,' said Cleopatra, listlessly waving her fan, 'a long way off. Don't come too near me, for I am frightfully faint and sensitive this morning, and you smell of the Sun. You are absolutely tropical.'
'By George, Ma'am,' said the Major, 'the time has been when Joseph Bagstock has been grilled and blistered by the Sun; then time was, when he was forced, Ma'am, into such full blow, by high hothouse heat in the West Indies, that he was known as the Flower. A man never heard of Bagstock, Ma'am, in those days; he heard of the Flower - the Flower of Ours. The Flower may have faded, more or less, Ma'am,' observed the Major, dropping into a much nearer chair than had been indicated by his cruel Divinity, 'but it is a tough plant yet, and constant as the evergreen.'
Here the Major, under cover of the dark room, shut up one eye, rolled his head like a Harlequin, and, in his great self-satisfaction, perhaps went nearer to the confines of apoplexy than he had ever gone before.
'Where is Mrs Granger?' inquired Cleopatra of her page.
Withers believed she was in her own room.

“可是，”董貝先生沒有注意到他的插話，繼續說道，“我真願他當初沒有乘這條船，當初沒有派他去就好了。”
“真可惜，您當初沒早講，是吧？”卡克冷冷地回答道，“不過，我想，到頭來這倒會是件好事。我確實認爲，到頭來這倒會是件好事。我跟您說過沒有，董貝小姐與我本人相互間還有着一點類似信任的關係呢？”
“沒有，”董貝先生嚴厲地說道。
“我毫不懷疑，”卡克在一段令人難忘的沉默之後繼續說道，“不論蓋伊現在在什麼地方，他待在那個地方總比在這裏待在家中要好得多。如果我處在，或者能處在您的地位的話，我將對這種情況感到滿意。我本人是很滿意的。董貝小姐年輕，輕信，如果她有什麼缺點的話，那就是，作爲您的女兒，也許還不夠高傲。當然，這算不了什麼。您跟我覈對一下這些帳目好嗎？”
董貝先生沒有彎下身子去看那些攤在面前的帳單，而是往後仰靠在椅子中，目不轉睛地看着這位經理的臉。經理眼皮稍稍擡起一點，假裝看着數字，而不去催促他的老闆。他毫不掩飾他是出於對董貝先生體帖入微和有意不傷害他的感情才假裝成這樣子的；董貝先生坐在那裏看着他的時候，明白他是有意關照他；他覺得，如果不是爲了這一點，這位深受他信任的卡克本會說出更多更多的話的，但是董貝先生太高傲了，他不會請求他說。他在業務上也經常這樣。董貝先生的眼光逐漸鬆弛下來，他的注意力開始轉移到面前的票據上面；但是他在埋頭研究的過程中經常停下來，重新看着卡克先生；每當他這樣做的時候；卡克先生就像先前一樣，表露出他的殷勤，給他的老闆留下了愈來愈深刻的印象。
他們就這樣忙着業務；在經理的巧妙的引導下，董貝先生心中對可憐的弗洛倫斯產生和滋長着憤怒的思想，它正取代着往常對她冷酷的厭惡；就正在這些時候，被萊明頓老太太們所稱頌的白格斯托克少校，正沿着街道有蔭影的一邊邁着步子，去向斯丘頓夫人進行一次上午的拜訪；本地人手裏拿着那些通常的隨身用品，跟隨在他後面；當少校到達克利奧佩特拉的閨房時，正是中午，所以他幸運地看到他的女王像平時一樣坐在沙發上，有氣無力地面對着一杯咖啡；爲了使她能得到舒適的休息，房間被窗簾遮蔽得十分陰暗，在她身旁侍候的威瑟斯就像一個侍童的幽靈一樣，朦朧不明地浮現出身形。
“什麼討厭的東西進來了？”斯丘頓夫人說道，“我不能容忍它。不管你是誰，快滾開！”
“夫人，您不會忍心把喬·白攆走的！”少校在中途停下，抗議道，手杖掛在他的肩膀上。
“啊，是你呀，是嗎？好吧，我改變主意，可以讓你進來。”克利奧佩特拉說道。
於是，少校就走進來，到了沙發旁邊，把她可愛的手壓到他的嘴脣上。
“坐吧，”克利奧佩特拉沒精打采地搖着扇子，說道，“坐得遠些，不要太挨近我，因爲今天下午我虛弱得要命，感覺非常靈敏。你身上有一股太陽氣。你簡直就跟從熱帶跑來的人一樣。”
“確實，夫人，”少校說道，“過去有一段時候，約瑟夫·白格斯托克曾經被太陽炙烤過，燙出過水泡；那時候，夫人，在西印度羣島溫室般炎熱的氣溫下，他不由得不茁壯成長；當時大家都以花這個外號來稱呼他。在那些日子裏，夫人，誰也不知道白格斯托克，但大家都知道花——我們的花。花現在多少有些枯萎了，夫人，”少校說道，一邊坐到一張椅子裏，他比他殘酷的神所指定的那張椅子要近好多，“可是它仍然是一株頑強的植物，就像常綠樹一樣四季長青。”
這時少校在房間黑暗光線的掩護下，閉上一隻眼睛，像啞劇中的丑角一樣搖晃着腦袋，他在揚揚得意之中也許比過去任何時候都更接近於中風的邊緣。
“格蘭傑夫人在哪裏？”克利奧佩特拉問她的童僕。
威瑟斯說，他猜想她在她自己的房間裏。