《[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版》

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[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版- 第75部分


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“You’re going to go on dreaming and imagining and 
making up stories about me as you walk along the street; 

and pretending that we’re riding in a forest; or landing 
on an island—” 

“No。 I shall think of you ordering dinner; paying bills; 
doing the accounts; showing old ladies the relics—” 

“That’s better;” she said。 “You can think of me tomorrow 
morning looking up dates in the ‘Dictionary of National 
Biography。’” 

“And forgetting your purse;” Ralph added。 

At this she smiled; but in another moment her smile 
faded; either because of his words or of the way in which 
he spoke them。 She was capable of forgetting things。 He 
saw that。 But what more did he see? Was he not looking 
at something she had never shown to anybody? Was it 
not something so profound that the notion of his seeing 
it almost shocked her? Her smile faded; and for a moment 
she seemed upon the point of speaking; but looking at 
him in silence; with a look that seemed to ask what she 
could not put into words; she turned and bade him good 
night。 

333 



Night and Day 

CHAPTER XXVIII 


Like a strain of music; the effect of Katharine’s presence 
slowly died from the room in which Ralph sat alone。 The 
music had ceased in the rapture of its melody。 He strained 
to catch the faintest lingering echoes; for a moment the 
memory lulled him into peace; but soon it failed; and he 
paced the room so hungry for the sound to e again 
that he was conscious of no other desire left in life。 She 
had gone without speaking; abruptly a chasm had been 
cut in his course; down which the tide of his being plunged 
in disorder; fell upon rocks; flung itself to destruction。 
The distress had an effect of physical ruin and disaster。 
He trembled; he was white; he felt exhausted; as if by a 
great physical effort。 He sank at last into a chair standing 
opposite her empty one; and marked; mechanically; 
with his eye upon the clock; how she went farther and 
farther from him; was home now; and now; doubtless; 
again with Rodney。 But it was long before he could realize 
these facts; the immense desire for her presence 
churned his senses into foam; into froth; into a haze of 

emotion that removed all facts from his grasp; and gave 
him a strange sense of distance; even from the material 
shapes of wall and window by which he was surrounded。 
The prospect of the future; now that the strength of his 
passion was revealed to him; appalled him。 

The marriage would take place in September; she had 
said; that allowed him; then; six full months in which to 
undergo these terrible extremes of emotion。 Six months 
of torture; and after that the silence of the grave; the 
isolation of the insane; the exile of the damned; at best; 
a life from which the chief good was knowingly and for 
ever excluded。 An impartial judge might have assured him 
that his chief hope of recovery lay in this mystic temper; 
which identified a living woman with much that no human 
beings long possess in the eyes of each other; she 
would pass; and the desire for her vanish; but his belief 
in what she stood for; detached from her; would remain。 
This line of thought offered; perhaps; some respite; and 
possessed of a brain that had its station considerably 
above the tumult of the senses; he tried to reduce the 
vague and wandering incoherency of his emotions to or


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Virginia Woolf 

der。 The sense of selfpreservation was strong in him; 
and Katharine herself had strangely revived it by convincing 
him that his family deserved and needed all his 
strength。 She was right; and for their sake; if not for his 
own; this passion; which could bear no fruit; must be cut 
off; uprooted; shown to be as visionary and baseless as 
she had maintained。 The best way of achieving this was 
not to run away from her; but to face her; and having 
steeped himself in her qualities; to convince his reason 
that they were; as she assured him; not those that he 
imagined。 She was a practical woman; a domestic wife 
for an inferior poet; endowed with romantic beauty by 
some freak of unintelligent Nature。 No doubt her beauty 
itself would not stand examination。 He had the means of 
settling this point at least。 He possessed a book of photographs 
from the Greek statues; the head of a goddess; 
if the lower part were concealed; had often given him 
the ecstasy of being in Katharine’s presence。 He took it 
down from the shelf and found the picture。 To this he 
added a note from her; bidding him meet her at the Zoo。 
He had a flower which he had picked at Kew to teach her 

botany。 Such were his relics。 He placed them before him; 
and set himself to visualize her so clearly that no deception 
or delusion was possible。 In a second he could see 
her; with the sun slanting across her dress; ing towards 
him down the green walk at Kew。 He made her sit 
upon the seat beside him。 He heard her voice; so low and 
yet so decided in its tone; she spoke reasonably of indifferent 
matters。 He could see her faults; and analyze her 
virtues。 His pulse became quieter; and his brain increased 
in clarity。 This time she could not escape him。 The illusion 
of her presence became more and more plete。 
They seemed to pass in and out of each other’s minds; 
questioning and answering。 The utmost fullness of munion 
seemed to be theirs。 Thus united; he felt himself 
raised to an eminence; exalted; and filled with a power of 
achievement such as he had never known in singleness。 
Once more he told over conscientiously her faults; both 
of face and character; they were clearly known to him; 
but they merged themselves in the flawless union that 
was born of their association。 They surveyed life to its 
uttermost limits。 How deep it was when looked at from 

335 



Night and Day 

this height! How sublime! How the monest things 
moved him almost to tears! Thus; he forgot the inevitable 
limitations; he forgot her absence; he thought it of 
no account whether she married him or another; nothing 
mattered; save that she should exist; and that he should 
love her。 Some words of these reflections were uttered 
aloud; and it happened that among them were the words; 
“I love her。” It was the first time that he had used the 
word “love” to describe his feeling; madness; romance; 
hallucination—he had called it by these names before; 
but having; apparently by accident; stumbled upon the 
word “love;” he repeated it again and again with a sense 
of revelation。 

“But I’m in love with you!” he exclaimed; with something 
like dismay。 He leant against the windowsill; looking 
over the city as she had looked。 Everything had bee 
miraculously different and pletely distinct。 His 
feelings were justified and needed no further explanation。 
But he must impart them to some one; because his 
discovery was so important that it concerned other people 
too。 Shutting the book of Greek photographs; and hiding 

his relics; he ran downstairs; snatched his coat; and passed 
out of doors。 

The lamps were being lit; but the streets were dark 
enough and empty enough to let him walk his fastest; 
and to talk aloud as he walked。 He had no doubt where 
he was going。 He was going to find Mary Datchet。 The 
desire to share what he felt; with some one who understood 
it; was so imperious that he did not question it。 He 
was soon in her street。 He ran up the stairs leading to her 
flat two steps at a time; and it never crossed his mind 
that she might not be at home。 As he rang her bell; he 
seemed to himself to be announcing the presence of something 
wonderful that was separate from himself; and gave 
him power and authority over all other people。 Mary came 
to the door after a moment’s pause。 He was perfectly 
silent; and in the dusk his face looked pletely white。 
He followed her into her room。 

“Do you know each other?” she said; to his extreme 
surprise; for he had counted on finding her alone。 A young 
man rose; and said that he knew Ralph by sight。 

“We were just going through some papers;” said Mary。 

336 



Virginia Woolf 

“Mr。 Bast has to help me; because I don’t know much 
about my work yet。 It’s the new society;” she explained。 
“I’m the secretary。 I’m no longer at Russell Square。” 

The voice in which she gave this information was so 
constrained as to sound almost harsh。 

“What are your aims?” said Ralph。 He looked neither at 
Mary nor at Mr。 Bast。 Mr。 Bast thought he had seldom 
seen a more disagreeable or formidable man than 
this friend of Mary’s; this sarcasticlooking; whitefaced 
Mr。 Denham; who seemed to demand; as if by right; an 
account of their proposals; and to criticize them before 
he had heard them。 Nevertheless; he explained his projects 
as clearly as he could; and knew that he wished Mr。 Denham 
to think well of them。 

“I see;” said Ralph; when he had done。 “D’you know; 
Mary;” he suddenly remarked; “I believe I’m in for a cold。 
Have you any quinine?” The look which he cast at her 
frightened her; it expressed mutely; perhaps without his 
own consciousness; something deep; wild; and passionate。 
She left the room at once。 Her heart beat fast at the 
knowledge of Ralph’s presence; but it beat with pain; 

and with an extraordinary fear。 She stood listening for a 
moment to the voices in the next room。 

“Of course; I agree with you;” she heard Ralph say; in 
this strange voice; to Mr。 Bast。 “But there’s more that 
might be done。 Have you seen Judson; for instance? You 
should make a point of getting him。” 

Mary returned with the quinine。 

“Judson’s address?” Mr。 Bast inquired; pulling out 
his notebook and preparing to write。 For twenty minutes; 
perhaps; he wrote down names; addresses; and other suggestions 
that Ralph dictated to him。 Then; when Ralph 
fell silent; Mr。 Bast felt that his presence was not 
desired; and thanking Ralph for his help; with a sense 
that he was very young and ignorant pared with him; 
he said goodbye。 

“Mary;” said Ralph; directly Mr。 Bast had shut the 
door and they were alone together。 “Mary;” he repeated。 
But the old

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