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第27节

the white moll-第27节

小说: the white moll 字数: 每页4000字

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there; I have spent nearly all the time since then in haunting the 
vicinity of Gypsy Nan's house to warn you away in case you should
try to reach her。〃

〃I … I don't understand;〃 she said a little uncertainly。

〃It is simple enough;〃 he said。  〃Gypsy Nan is now one of those you
have most to fear。  Gypsy Nan is merely a disguise。  She is no more
Gypsy Nan than you are。〃

Rhoda Gray caught her breath。

〃Not Gypsy Nan!〃 she repeated … and fought to keep her voice in
control。  〃Who is she; then?〃

The Adventurer laughed shortly。

〃She is quite closely connected with that gentleman we left airing
himself on the fire escape;〃 he said grimly。  〃Gypsy Nan is Danglar's
wife。〃

It was very strange; very curious … the alleyway seemed suddenly to
be revolving around and around; and it seemed to bring her a 
giddiness and a faintness。  The Adventurer was standing there before
her; but she did not see him any more; she could only see; as from
a brink upon which she tottered; a gulf; abysmal in its horror; that
yawned before her。

〃Thank you … thank you for the warning。〃  Was that her voice
speaking so calmly and dispassionately?  〃I will remember it。  But
I must go now。  Good…night again!〃

He said something。  She did not know what。  She only knew that she
was hurrying along the alleyway now; and that he had made no effort
to stop her; and that she was grateful to him for that; and that her
composure; strained to the breaking point; would have given away if
she had remained with him another instant。  Danglar's wife!  It was
dark here in the alley…way; and she did not know where it led to。
But did it matter?  And she stumbled as she went along。  But it was
not the physical inability to see that made her stumble … it was a
brain…blindness that fogged her soul itself。  His wife!  Gypsy Nan
was Danglar's wife。


XI。  SOME OF THE LESSER BREED

Danglar's wife!  It had been a night of horror; a night without
sleep; a night; after the guttering candle had gone out; when the
blackness of the garret possessed added terrors created by an
imagination which ran riot; and which she could not control。  She
could have fled from it; screaming in panic…stricken hysteria … but
there had been no other place as safe as that was。  Safe!  The
word seemed to reach the uttermost depths of irony。  Safe!  Well;
it was true; wasn't it?

She had not wanted to return there; her soul itself had revolted
against it; but she had dared to do nothing else。  And all through
that night; huddled on the edge of the cot bed; her fingers clinging
tenaciously to her revolver as though afraid for even an instant
to relinquish it from her grasp; listening; listening; always
listening for a footstep that might come up from that dark hall
below; the footstep that would climax all the terrors that had
surged upon her; her mind had kept on reiterating; always reiterating
those words of the Adventurer … 〃Gypsy Nan is Danglar's wife。〃

And they were still with her; those words。  Daylight had come again;
and passed again; and it was evening once more; but those words
remained; insensible to change; immutable in their foreboding。  And
Rhoda Gray; as Gypsy Nan; shuddered now as she scuffled along a
shabby street deep in the heart of the East Side。  She was Danglar's
wife … by proxy。  At dawn that morning when the gray had come
creeping into the miserable attic through the small and dirty window
panes; she had fallen on her knees and thanked God she had been
spared that footstep。  It was strange!  She had poured out her soul
in passionate thankfulness then that Danglar had not come … and now
she was deliberately on her way to seek Danglar himself!  But the
daylight had done more than disperse the actual; physical darkness
of the past night; it had brought; if not a measure of relief; at
least a sense of guidance; and the final decision; perilous though
it was; which she meant now to put into execution。

There was no other way … unless she were willing to admit defeat;
to give up everything; her own good name; her father's name; to run
from it all and live henceforth in hiding in some obscure place far
away; branded in the life she would have left behind her as a
despicable criminal and thief。  And she could not; would not; do
this while her intuition; at least; inspired her with the faith to
believe that there was still a chance of clearing herself。  It was
the throw of the dice; perhaps … but there was no other way。
Danglar; and those with him; were at the bottom of the crime of
which she was held guilty。  She could not go on as she had been
doing; merely in the hope of stumbling upon some clew that would
serve to exonerate her。  There was not time enough for that。
Danglar's trap set for herself and the Adventurer last night in old
Nicky Viner's room proved that。  And the fact that the woman who
had originally masqueraded as Gypsy Nan … as she; Rhoda Gray; was
masquerading now … was Danglar's wife; proved it a thousandfold
more。  She could no longer remain passive; arguing with herself
that it took all her wits and all her efforts to maintain herself
in the role of Gypsy Nan; which temporarily was all that stood
between her and prison bars。  To do so meant the certainty of
disaster sooner or later; and if it meant that; the need for
immediate action of an offensive sort was imperative。

And so her mind was made up。  Her only chance was to find her way
into the full intimacy of the criminal band of which Danglar was
apparently the head; to search out its lair and its personnel; to
reach to the heart of it; to know Danglar's private movements; and
to discover where he lived so that she might watch him。  It surely
was not such a hopeless task!  True; she knew by name and sight
scarcely more than three of this crime clique; but at least she had
a starting point from which to work。  There was Shluker's junk shop
where she had turned the tables on Danglar and Skeeny on the night
they had planned to make the Sparrow their pawn。  It was obvious;
therefore; that Shluker himself; the proprietor of the junk shop;
was one of the organization。  She was going to Shluker's now。

Rhoda Gray halted suddenly; and stared wonderingly a little way up
the block ahead of her。  As though by magic a crowd was collecting
around the doorway of a poverty…stricken; tumble…down frame house
that made the corner of an alleyway。  And where but an instant
before the street's jostling humanity had been immersed in its
wrangling with the push…cart men who lined the curb; the carts were
now deserted by every one save their owners; whose caution exceeded
their curiosity … and the crowd grew momentarily larger in front of
the house。

She drew Gypsy Nan's black; greasy shawl a little more closely
around her shoulders; and moved forward again。  And now; on the
outskirts of the crowd; she could see quite plainly。  There were
two or three low steps that led up to the doorway; and a man and
woman were standing there。  The woman was wretchedly dressed; but
with most strange incongruity she held in her hand; obviously
subconsciously; obviously quite oblivious of it; a huge basket full
to overflowing with; as nearly as Rhoda Gray could judge; all sorts
of purchases; as though out of the midst of abject poverty a golden
shower had suddenly descended upon her。  And she was gray; and well
beyond middle age; and crying bitterly; and her free hand; whether
to support herself or with the instinctive idea of supporting her
companion; was clutched tightly around the man's shoulders。  And
the man rocked unsteadily upon his feet。  He was tall and angular;
and older than the woman; and cadaverous of feature; and miserably
thin of shoulder; and blood trickled over his forehead and down one
ashen; hollow cheek … and above the excited exclamations of the
crowd Rhoda Gray heard him cough。

Rhoda Gray glanced around her。  Where scarcely a second before she
had been on the outer fringe of the crowd; she now appeared to be
in the very center of it。  Women were pushing up behind her; women
who wore shawls as she did; only the shawls were mostly of gaudy
colors; and men pushed up behind her; mostly men of swarthy
countenance; who wore circlets of gold in their ears; and; brushing
her skirts; seeking vantage points; ragged; ill…clad children
wriggled and wormed their way deeper into the press。  It was a crowd
composed almost entirely of the foreign element which inhabited that
quarter … and the crowd chattered and gesticulated with
ever…increasing violence。  She did not understand。  And she could not
see so well now。  That pitiful tableau in the doorway was being shut
out from her by a man; directly in front of her; who had hoisted a
half…naked tot of three or four to a reserved seat upon his head。

And then a young man; one whom; from her years in the Bad Lands as
the White Moll; she recognized as a hanger…on at a gambling hell in
the Chatham Square district; came toward her; plowing his way;
contemptuous of obstructions; out of the crowd。

Rhoda Gray; as Gypsy Nan; hailed him out of the corner of her mouth。

〃Say; wot's de row?〃 she demanded。

The young man grinned。

〃Somebody pinched a million from

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