人性的枷锁 Of Human Bondage(6)
‘Your Uncle William is waiting in to see you,’ she said. ‘Go and say good-bye to Miss Watkin, and we’ll go home.’
‘I don’t want to say good-bye,’ he answered, instinctively anxious to hide his tears.
‘Very well, run upstairs and get your hat.’
He fetched it, and when he came down Emma was waiting for him in the hall. He heard the sound of voices in the study behind the dining-room. He paused. He knew that Miss Watkin and her sister were talking to friends, and it seemed to him—he was nine years old—that if he went in they would be sorry for him.
‘I think I’ll go and say good-bye to Miss Watkin.’
‘I think you’d better,’ said Emma.
‘Go in and tell them I’m coming,’ he said.
He wished to make the most of his opportunity. Emma knocked at the door and walked in. He heard her speak.
‘Master Philip wants to say good-bye to you, miss.’
There was a sudden hush of the conversation, and Philip limped in. Henrietta Watkin was a stout woman, with a red face and dyed hair. In those days to dye the hair excited comment, and Philip had heard much gossip at home when his godmother’s changed colour. She lived with an elder sister, who had resigned herself contentedly to old age. Two ladies, whom Philip did not know, were calling, and they looked at him curiously.
‘I don’t want to say good-bye,’ he answered, instinctively anxious to hide his tears.
‘Very well, run upstairs and get your hat.’
He fetched it, and when he came down Emma was waiting for him in the hall. He heard the sound of voices in the study behind the dining-room. He paused. He knew that Miss Watkin and her sister were talking to friends, and it seemed to him—he was nine years old—that if he went in they would be sorry for him.
‘I think I’ll go and say good-bye to Miss Watkin.’
‘I think you’d better,’ said Emma.
‘Go in and tell them I’m coming,’ he said.
He wished to make the most of his opportunity. Emma knocked at the door and walked in. He heard her speak.
‘Master Philip wants to say good-bye to you, miss.’
There was a sudden hush of the conversation, and Philip limped in. Henrietta Watkin was a stout woman, with a red face and dyed hair. In those days to dye the hair excited comment, and Philip had heard much gossip at home when his godmother’s changed colour. She lived with an elder sister, who had resigned herself contentedly to old age. Two ladies, whom Philip did not know, were calling, and they looked at him curiously.
伊莱捏奈布的性器头条