漂亮朋友 第六章 英1

孙祎卓

The next morning Georges Duroy arose, dressed himself, and determined to have money; he sought Forestier. His friend received him in his study.
“What made you rise so early?” he asked.
“A very serious matter. I have a debt of honor.”
“A gaming debt?”
He hesitated, then repeated: “A gaming debt.”
“Is it large?”
“Five hundred francs.” He only needed two hundred and eighty.
Forestier asked sceptically: “To whom do you owe that amount?”
Duroy did not reply at once. “To — to — a — M. de Carleville.”
“Ah, where does he live?”
“Rue — Rue —”
Forestier laughed. “I know the gentleman! If you want twenty francs you can have them, but no more.”
Duroy took the gold-piece, called upon more friends, and by five o’clock had collected eighty francs. As he required two hundred more, he kept what he had begged and muttered: “I shall not worry about it. I will pay it when I can.”
For two weeks he lived economically, but at the end of that time, the good resolutions he had formed vanished, and one evening he returned to the Folies Bergeres in search of Rachel; but the woman was implacable and heaped coarse insults upon him, until he felt his cheeks tingle and he left the hall.
Forestier, out of health and feeble, made Duroy’s existence at the office insupportable. The latter did not reply to his rude remarks, but determined to be avenged. He called upon Mme. Forestier. He found her reclining upon a couch, reading. She held out her hand without rising and said: “Good morning, Bel-Ami!”
“Why do you call me by that name?”
She replied with a smile: “I saw Mme. de Marelle last week and I know what they have christened you at her house.”
He took a seat near his hostess and glanced at her curiously; she was a charming blonde, fair and plump, made for caresses, and he thought: “She is certainly nicer than the other one.” He did not doubt that he would only have to extend his hand in order to gather the fruit. As he gazed upon her she chided him for his neglect of her.
He replied: “I did not come because it was for the best —”
“How? Why?”
“Why? Can you not guess?”
“No!”
“Because I loved you; a little, only a little, and I did not wish to love you any more.”
She did not seem surprised, nor flattered; she smiled indifferently and replied calmly: “Oh, you can come just the same; no one loves me long.”
“Why not?”
“Because it is useless, and I tell them so at once. If you had confessed your fears to me sooner, I would have reassured you. My dear friend, a man in love is not only foolish but dangerous. I cease all intercourse with people who love me or pretend to; firstly, because they bore me, and secondly, because I look upon them with dread, as I would upon a mad dog. I know that your love is only a kind of appetite; while with me it would be a communion of souls. Now, look me in the face —” she no longer smiled. “I will never be your sweetheart; it is therefore useless for you to persist in your efforts. And now that I have explained, shall we be friends?”
He knew that that sentence was irrevocable, and delighted to be able to form such an alliance as she proposed, he extended both hands, saying:
“I am yours, Madame, to do with as you will”
He kissed her hands and raising his head said: “If I had found a woman like you, how gladly would I have married her.”
She was touched by those words, and in a soft voice, placing her hand upon his arm, she said: “I am going to begin my offices at once. You are not diplomatic —” she hesitated. “May I speak freely?”
“Yes.”
“Call upon Mme. Walter who has taken a fancy to you. But be guarded as to your compliments, for she is virtuous. You will make a better impression there by being careful in your remarks. I know that your position at the office is unsatisfactory, but do not worry; all their employees are treated alike.”
He said: “Thanks; you are an angel — a guardian angel.”
As he took his leave, he asked again: “Are we friends — is it settled?”
“It is.”
Having observed the effect of his last compliment, he said: “If you ever become a widow, I have put in my application!” Then he left the room hastily in order not to allow her time to be angry.
Duroy did not like to call on Mme. Walter, for he had never been invited, and he did not wish to commit a breach of etiquette. The manager had been kind to him, appreciated his services, employed him to do difficult work, why should he not profit by that show of favor to call at his house? One day, therefore, he repaired to the market and bought twenty-five pears. Having carefully arranged them in a basket to make them appear as if they came from a distance he took them to Mme. Walter’s door with his card on which was inscribed:
“Georges Duroy begs Mme. Walter to accept the fruit which he