the haunted bookshop(闹鬼的书店)-第17节
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Chapter V
Aubrey Walks Part Way Homeand Rides The Rest of the Way
It was a cold； clear night as Mr。 Aubrey Gilbert left the Haunted
Bookshop that evening； and set out to walk homeward。 Without making
a very conscious choice； he felt instinctively that it would be agreeable to
walk back to Manhattan rather than permit the roaring disillusion of the
subway to break in upon his meditations。
It is to be feared that Aubrey would have badly flunked any quizzing
on the chapters of Somebody's Luggage which the bookseller had read
aloud。 His mind was swimming rapidly in the agreeable； unfettered
fashion of a stream rippling downhill。 As O。 Henry puts it in one of his
most delightful stories： 〃He was outwardly decent and managed to
preserve his aquarium； but inside he was impromptu and full of
unexpectedness。〃 To say that he was thinking of Miss Chapman would
imply too much power of ratiocination and abstract scrutiny on his part。
He was not thinking： he was being thought。 Down the accustomed
channels of his intellect he felt his mind ebbing with the irresistible
movement of tides drawn by the blandishing moon。 And across these
shimmering estuaries of impulse his will； a lost and naked athlete； was
painfully attempting to swim； but making much leeway and already almost
resigned to being carried out to sea。
He stopped a moment at Weintraub's drug store； on the corner of
Gissing Street and Wordsworth Avenue； to buy some cigarettes； unfailing
solace of an agitated bosom。
It was the usual old…fashioned pharmacy of those parts of Brooklyn：
tall red； green； and blue vases of liquid in the windows threw blotches of
coloured light onto the pavement； on the panes was affixed white china
lettering： H。 WE TRAUB； DEUT CHE APOTHEKER。 Inside； the
customary shelves of labelled jars； glass cases holding cigars； nostrums
and toilet knick…knacks； and in one corner an ancient revolving bookcase
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deposited long ago by the Tabard Inn Library。 The shop was empty； but
as he opened the door a bell buzzed sharply。 In a back chamber he could
hear voices。 As he waited idly for the druggist to appear； Aubrey cast a
tolerant eye over the dusty volumes in the twirling case。 There were the
usual copies of Harold MacGrath's The Man on the Box； A Girl of the
Limberlost； and The Houseboat on the Styx。 The Divine Fire； much
grimed； leaned against Joe Chapple's Heart Throbs。 Those familiar with
the Tabard Inn bookcases still to be found in outlying drug…shops know
that the stock has not been 〃turned〃 for many a year。 Aubrey was the
more surprised； on spinning the the case round； to find wedged in between
two other volumes the empty cover of a book that had been torn loose
from the pages to which it belonged。 He glanced at the lettering on the
back。 It ran thus：
CARLYLE OLIVER CROMWELL'S LETTERS
AND SPEECHES
Obeying a sudden impulse； he slipped the book cover in his overcoat
pocket。
Mr。 Weintraub entered the shop； a solid Teutonic person with
discoloured pouches under his eyes and a face that was a potent argument
for prohibition。 His manner； however； was that of one anxious to please。
Aubrey indicated the brand of cigarettes he wanted。 Having himself
coined the advertising catchword for themThey're mild but they
satisfyhe felt a certain loyal compulsion always to smoke this kind。
The druggist held out the packet； and Aubrey noticed that his fingers were
stained a deep saffron colour。
〃I see you're a cigarette smoker； too；〃 said Aubrey pleasantly； as he
opened the packet and lit one of the paper tubes at a little alcohol flame
burning in a globe of blue glass on the counter。
〃Me？ I never smoke；〃 said Mr。 Weintraub； with a smile which
somehow did not seem to fit his surly face。 〃I must have steady nerves in
my profession。 Apothecaries who smoke make up bad prescriptions。〃
〃Well； how do you get your hands stained that way？〃 Mr。 Weintraub
removed his hands from the counter。
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THE HAUNTED BOOKSHOP
〃Chemicals；〃 he grunted。 〃Prescriptionsall that sort of thing。〃
〃Well；〃 said Aubrey； 〃smoking's a bad habit。 I guess I do too much of
it。〃 He could not resist the impression that someone was listening to
their talk。 The doorway at the back of the shop was veiled by a portiere
of beads and thin bamboo sections threaded on strings。 He heard them
clicking as though they had been momentarily pulled aside。 Turning； just
as he opened the door to leave； he noticed the bamboo curtain swaying。
〃Well； good…night；〃 he said； and stepped out onto the street。
As he walked down Wordsworth Avenue； under the thunder of the L；
past lighted lunchrooms； oyster saloons； and pawnshops； Miss Chapman
resumed her sway。 With the delightful velocity of thought his mind
whirled in a narrowing spiral round the experience of the evening。 The
small book…crammed sitting room of the Mifflins； the sparkling fire； the
lively chirrup of the bookseller reading aloudand there； in the old easy
chair whose horsehair stuffing was bulging out； that blue…eyed vision of
careless girlhood！ Happily he had been so seated that he could study her
without seeming to do so。 The line of her ankle where the firelight danced
upon it put Coles Phillips to shame； he averred。 Extraordinary； how these
creatures are made to torment us with their intolerable comeliness！
Against the background of dusky bindings her head shone with a soft haze
of gold。 Her face； that had an air of naive and provoking independence；
made him angry with its unnecessary surplus of enchantment。 An
unaccountable gust of rage drove him rapidly along the frozen street。
〃Damn it；〃 he cried； 〃what right has any girl to be as pretty as that？ Why
why； I'd like to beat her！〃 he muttered； amazed at himself。 〃What the devil
right has a girl got to look so innocently adorable？〃
It would be unseemly to follow poor Aubrey in his vacillations of rage
and worship as he thrashed along Wordsworth Avenue； hearing and seeing
no more than was necessary for the preservation of his life at street
crossings。 Half…smoked cigarette stubs glowed in his wake；＇2＇ his burly
bosom echoed with incoherent oratory。 In the darker stretches of Fulton
Street that lead up to the Brooklyn Bridge he fiercely exclaimed： 〃By
God； it's not such a bad world。〃 As he ascended the slope of that vast airy
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span； a black midget against a froth of stars； he was gravely planning such
vehemence of exploit in the advertising profession as would make it seem
less absurd to approach the President of the Daintybits Corporation with a
question for which no progenitor of loveliness is ever quite prepared。
＇2＇ NOTE WHILE PROOFREADING： Surely this phrase was
unconsciously lifted from R。 L。 S。 But where does the original occur？ C。 D。
M。
In the exact centre of the bridge something diluted his mood； he halted；
leaning against the railing； to consider the splendour of the scene。 The
hour was latemoving on toward midnight but in the tall black
precipices of Manhattan scattered lights gleamed； in an odd； irregular
pattern like the sparse punctures on the raffle…board〃take a chance on a
Milk…Fed Turkey〃the East Indian elevator…boy presents to apartment…
house tenants about Hallowe'en。
