While the Auto Waits
cpusa波士顿学院O. Henry
1 Promptly at the beginning of twilight, came again to that quiet corner of that quiet, small park the girl in gray. She sat upon a bench and read a book, for there was yet to come a half hour in which print could be accomplished.enormous
2 To repeat: Her dress was gray, and plain enough to mask its impeccancy of style and fit. A large-meshed veil imprisoned her turban hat and a face that shone through it with a calm and unconscious beauty. She had come there at the same hour on the day previous, and on the day before that; and there was one who knew it.
3 The young man who knew it hovered near, relying upon burnt sacrifices to the great joss, Luck. His piety was rewarded, for, in turning a page, her book slipped from her fingers and bounded from the bench a full yard away.
4 The young man pounced upon it with instant avidity, returning it to its owner with that air
that ems to flourish in parks and public places—a compound of gallantry and hope, tempered with respect for the policeman on the beat. In a pleasant voice, he risked an inconquent remark upon the weather—that introductory topic responsible for so much of the world’s unhappiness—and stood poid for a moment, awaiting his fate.
5 The girl looked him over leisurely; at his ordinary, neat dress and his features distinguished by nothing particular in the way of expression.
6 “You may sit down, if you like,” she said, in a full, deliberate contralto. “Really, I would like to have you do so. The light is too bad for reading. I would prefer to talk.”
7 The vassal of Luck slid upon the at by her side with complaisance.
8 “Do you know,” he said, speaking the formula with which park chairmen open their meetings, “that you are quite the stunningest girl I have en in a long time? I had my eye on you yesterday. Didn’t know somebody was bowled over by tho pretty lamps of yours, did you, honeysuckle?”
9 “Whoever you are,” said the girl, in icy tones, “you must remember that I am a lady. I will excu the remark you have just made becau the mistake was, doubtless, not an unnatural one –-in your circle. I asked you to sit down; if the invitation must constitute me your honeysuckle, consider it withdrawn.”
10 “I earnestly beg your pardon,” pleaded the young man. His expression of satisfaction had changed to one of penitence and humility. “It was my fault, you know—I mean, there are girls in parks, you know—that is, of cour, you don’t know, but—”
11 “Abandon the subject, if you plea. Of cour I know. Now, tell me about the people passing and crowding, each way, along the paths. Where are they going? Why do they hurry so? Are they happy?”辞职信 英文
12 The young man had promptly abandoned his air of coquetry. His cue was now for a waiting part; he could not guess the role he would be expected to play.
13 “It is interesting to watch them,” he replied, postulating her mood. “It is the wonderful
drama of life. Some are going to supper and some to—er—other places. One wonders what their histories are.”
新年快乐日语14 “I do not,” said the girl; “I am not so inquisitive. I come here to sit becau here, only, can I be near the great, common, throbbing heart of humanity. My part in life is cast where its beats are never felt. Can you surmi why I spoke to you, Mr.—?”
15 “Parkenstacker,” supplied the young man. Then he looked eager and hopeful.
display16 “No,” said the girl, holding up a slender finger, and smiling slightly. “You would recognize it immediately. It is impossible to keep one’s name out of print. Or even one’s portrait. This veil and this hat of my maid furnish me with an incog. You should have en the chauffeur stare at it when he thought I did not e. Candidly, there are five or six names that belong in the holy of holies, and mine, by the accident of birth, is one of them. I spoke to you, Mr. Stackenpot—”
17 “Parkenstacker,” corrected the young man, modestly.
18 “—Mr. Parkenstacker, becau I wanted to talk, for once, with a natural man—one unspoiled by the despicable gloss of wealth and suppod social superiority. Oh! you do not know how weary I am of it—money, money, money! And of the men who surround me, dancing like little marionettes all cut by the same pattern. I am sick of pleasure, of jewels, of travel, of society, of luxuries of all kinds.”
