little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第212部分
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use； 'I care for neither of you。 Contrabandist！ A light。'
Again Cavalletto got up； and gave him what he wanted。 There had been
something dreadful in the noiseless skill of his cold； white hands； with
the fingers lithely twisting about and twining one over another like
serpents。 Clennam could not prevent himself from shuddering inwardly； as
if he had been looking on at a nest of those creatures。
'Hola； Pig！' cried Rigaud； with a noisy stimulating cry； as if
Cavalletto were an Italian horse or mule。 'What！ The infernal old jail
was a respectable one to this。 There was dignity in the bars and stones
of that place。 It was a prison for men。 But this？ Bah！ A hospital for
imbeciles！'
He smoked his cigarette out； with his ugly smile so fixed upon his face
that he looked as though he were smoking with his drooping beak of a
nose； rather than with his mouth； like a fancy in a weird picture。 When
he had lighted a second cigarette at the still burning end of the first；
he said to Clennam：
'One must pass the time in the madman's absence。 One must talk。 One
can't drink strong wine all day long； or I would have another bottle。
She's handsome； sir。 Though not exactly to my taste； still； by
the Thunder and the Lightning！ handsome。 I felicitate you on your
admiration。'
'I neither know nor ask；' said Clennam； 'of whom you speak。'
'Della bella Gowana； sir； as they say in Italy。 Of the Gowan； the fair
Gowan。'
'Of whose husband you were the……follower； I think？'
'Sir？ Follower？ You are insolent。 The friend。'
'Do you sell all your friends？'
Rigaud took his cigarette from his mouth； and eyed him with a momentary
revelation of surprise。 But he put it between his lips again； as he
answered with coolness：
'I sell anything that mands a price。 How do your lawyers live； your
politicians； your intriguers； your men of the Exchange？ How do you live？
How do you e here？ Have you sold no friend？ Lady of mine！ I rather
think； yes！'
Clennam turned away from him towards the window； and sat looking out at
the wall。
'Effectively； sir；' said Rigaud； 'Society sells itself and sells me： and
I sell Society。 I perceive you have acquaintance with another lady。 Also
handsome。 A strong spirit。 Let us see。 How do they call her？ Wade。'
He received no answer； but could easily discern that he had hit the
mark。
'Yes；' he went on； 'that handsome lady and strong spirit addresses me in
the street； and I am not insensible。 I respond。 That handsome lady and
strong spirit does me the favour to remark； in full confidence； 〃I have
my curiosity； and I have my chagrins。 You are not more than ordinarily
honourable； perhaps？〃 I announce myself； 〃Madame； a gentleman from
the birth； and a gentleman to the death； but NOT more than ordinarily
honourable。 I despise such a weak fantasy。〃 Thereupon she is pleased to
pliment。 〃The difference between you and the rest is；〃 she answers；
〃that you say so。〃 For she knows Society。 I accept her congratulations
with gallantry and politeness。 Politeness and little gallantries are
inseparable from my character。 She then makes a proposition； which is；
in effect； that she has seen us much together； that it appears to her
that I am for the passing time the cat of the house； the friend of
the family； that her curiosity and her chagrins awaken the fancy to be
acquainted with their movements； to know the manner of their life； how
the fair Gowana is beloved； how the fair Gowana is cherished； and so
on。 She is not rich； but offers such and such little repenses for the
little cares and derangements of such services； and I graciously……to do
everything graciously is a part of my character……consent to accept them。
O yes！ So goes the world。 It is the mode。'
Though Clennam's back was turned while he spoke； and thenceforth to the
end of the interview； he kept those glittering eyes of his that were too
near together； upon him； and evidently saw in the very carriage of the
head； as he passed with his braggart recklessness from clause to clause
of what he said； that he was saying nothing which Clennam did not
already know。
'Whoof！ The fair Gowana！' he said； lighting a third cigarette with a
sound as if his lightest breath could blow her away。 'Charming； but
imprudent！ For it was not well of the fair Gowana to make mysteries of
letters from old lovers； in her bedchamber on the mountain； that her
husband might not see them。 No； no。 That was not well。 Whoof！ The Gowana
was mistaken there。'
'I earnestly hope；' cried Arthur aloud； 'that Pancks may not be long
gone； for this man's presence pollutes the room。'
'Ah！ But he'll flourish here； and everywhere；' said Rigaud； with an
exulting look and snap of his fingers。 'He always has； he always will！'
Stretching his body out on the only three chairs in the room besides
that on which Clennam sat； he sang； smiting himself on the breast as the
gallant personage of the song。
'Who passes by this road so late？
pagnon de la Majolaine！
Who passes by this road so late？
Always gay！
'Sing the Refrain； pig！ You could sing it once； in another jail。 Sing
it！ Or； by every Saint who was stoned to death； I'll be affronted and
promising； and then some people who are not dead yet； had better have
been stoned along with them！'
'Of all the king's knights 'tis the flower；
pagnon de la Majolaine！
Of all the king's knights 'tis the flower；
Always gay！'
Partly in his old habit of submission； partly because his not doing it
might injure his benefactor； and partly because he would as soon do
it as anything else； Cavalletto took up the Refrain this time。 Rigaud
laughed； and fell to smoking with his eyes shut。
Possibly another quarter of an hour elapsed before Mr Pancks's step was
heard upon the stairs； but the interval seemed to Clennam insupportably
long。 His step was attended by another step； and when Cavalletto opened
the door； he admitted Mr Pancks and Mr Flintwinch。 The latter was no
sooner visible； than Rigaud rushed at him and embraced him boisterously。
'How do you find yourself； sir？' said Mr Flintwinch； as soon as he could
disengage himself； which he struggled to do with very little ceremony。
'Thank you； no； I don't want any more。' This was in reference to another
menace of attention from his recovered friend。
'Well； Arthur。 You remember what I said to you about sleeping dogs and
missing ones。 It's e true； you see。'
He was as imperturbable as ever； to all appearance； and nodded his head
in a moralising way as he looked round the room。
'And this is the Marshalsea prison for debt！' said Mr Flintwinch。 'Hah！
you have brought your pigs to a very indifferent market； Arthur。'
If Arthur had patience； Rigaud had not。 He took his little Flintwinch；
with fierce playfulness； by the two lapels of his coat； and cried：
'To the Devil with the Market； to the Devil with the Pigs； and to the
Devil with the Pig…Driver！ Now！ Give me the answer to my letter。'
'If you can make it convenient to let go a moment； sir；' returned Mr
Flintwinch； 'I'll first hand Mr Arthur a little note that I have for
him。'
He did so。 It was in his mother's maimed writing； on a slip of paper；
and contained only these words：
'I hope it is enough that you have ruined yourself。 Rest contented
without more ruin。 Jeremiah Flintwinch is my messenger and
representative。 Your affectionate M。 C。'
Clennam read this twice； in silence； and then tore it to pieces。 Rigaud
in the meanwhile stepped into a chair； and sat himself on the back with
his feet upon the seat。
'Now； Beau Flintwinch；' he said； when he had closely watched the note to
its destruction； 'the answer to my letter？'
'Mrs Clennam did not write； Mr Blandois； her hands being cramped；
and she thinking it as well to send it verbally by me。' Mr Flintwinch
screwed this out of himself； unwillingly and rustily。 'She sends
her pliments； and says she doesn't on the whole wish to term
you unreasonable； and that she agrees。 But without prejudicing the
appointment that stands for this day week。'
Monsieur Rigaud； after indulging in a fit of laughter； descended from
his throne； saying； 'Good！ I go to s
