I was about to fetch my wrap from the cloak-room (衣帽间), when I remembered that my Brunn friend had handed in our things together, and that he had the ticket.
It was impossible to go back and ask him for it, and it seemed to me even more impossible to renounce (放弃) this hour with you to which I had been looking forward for years.
My choice was instantly made.
I gathered my shawl (披肩) around me, and went forth into the misty (有雾的) night, regardless not only of my cloak, but regardless, likewise, of the kindhearted man with whom I had been living for years - regardless of the fact that in this public way, before his friends, I was putting him into the ludicrous (滑稽的) position of one whose mistress abandons him at the first nod of a stranger.
Inwardly, I was well aware how basely (卑鄙地) and ungratefully I was behaving towards a good friend.
I knew that my outrageous folly (愚蠢) would alienate (使疏远) him from me forever, and that I was playing havoc with my life.
But what was his friendship, what was my own life to me when compared with the chance of again feeling your lips on mine, of again listening to the tones of your voice.
Now that all is over and done with I can tell you this, can let you know how I loved you. I believe that were you to summon me from my death-bed, I should find strength to rise in answer to your call.
There was a taxi at the door, and we drove to your rooms. Once more I could listen to your voice, once more I felt the ecstasy (狂喜) of being near you, and was almost as intoxicated (沉醉) with joy and confusion as I had been so long before.
But I cannot describe it all to you, how what I had felt ten years earlier was now renewed as we went up the well-known stairs together;
how I lived simultaneously (同时地) in the past and in the present, my whole being fused (混合) as it were with yours.
In your rooms, little was changed. There were a few more pictures, a great many more books, one or two additions to your furniture - but the whole had the friendly look of an old acquaintance (熟人).
On the writing-table was the vase with the roses - my roses, the ones I had sent you the day before as a memento (纪念品) of the woman whom you did not remember, whom you did not recognise, not even now when she was close to you, when you were holding her hand and your lips were pressed on hers.
But it comforted me to see my flowers there, to know that you had cherished something that was an emanation from me, was the breath of my love for you.
You took me in your arms. Again I stayed with you for the whole of one glorious night.
But even then you did not recognise me.
While I thrilled (极为激动的) to your caresses, it was plain to me that your passion knew no difference between a loving mistress and a meretrix (娼妓), that your spendthrift (挥霍无度的) affections were wholly concentrated in their own expression.
To me, the stranger picked up at a dancing-hall, you were at once affectionate (深情的) and courteous (有礼貌的).
You would not treat me lightly, and yet you were full of an enthralling (迷人的) ardour (激情).
Dizzy with the old happiness, I was again aware of the two-sidedness of your nature, of that strange mingling of intellectual (理智的) passion with sensual (肉欲的), which had already enslaved me to you in my childhood.
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In no other man have I ever known such complete surrender to the sweetness of the moment.
No other has for the time being given himself so utterly as did you who, when the hour was past, were to relapse into an interminable (冗长的) and almost inhuman (残忍的) forgetfulness.
But I, too, forgot myself. Who was I, lying in the darkness beside you? Was I the impassioned child of former days; was I the mother of your son; was I a stranger?
Everything in this wonderful night was at one and the same time entrancingly familiar and entrancingly new. I prayed that the joy might last forever.
But morning came. It was late when we rose, and you asked me to stay to breakfast. Over the tea, which an unseen hand had discreetly served in the dining-room, we talked quietly.
As of old, you displayed (表现) a cordial frankness; and, as of old, there were no tactless (笨拙的) questions, there was no curiosity about myself. You did not ask my name, nor where I lived.
To you I was, as before, a casual adventure, a nameless woman, an ardent hour which leaves no trace when it is over.
You told me that you were about to start on a long journey, that you were going to spend two or three months in Northern Africa.
The words broke in upon my happiness like a knell (丧钟声): "Past, past, past and forgotten!" I longed to throw myself at your feet, crying: "Take me with you, that you may at length come to know me, at length after all these years!"
But I was timid (胆小的), cowardly, slavish (卑屈的), weak. All I could say was: "What a pity." You looked at me with a smile - "Are you really sorry?"
For a moment I was as if frenzied (疯狂的). I stood up and looked at you fixedly. Then I said: "The man I love has always gone on a journey."
I looked you straight in the eyes. "Now, now," I thought, "now he will recognise me!"
You only smiled, and said consolingly (安慰地): "One comes back after a time."
I answered: "Yes, one comes back, but one has forgotten by then."
I must have spoken with strong feeling, for my tone moved you. You, too, rose, and looked at me wonderingly and tenderly. You put your hands on my shoulders: "Good things are not forgotten, and I shall not forget you."
Your eyes studied me attentively (聚精会神地), as if you wished to form an enduring image of me in your mind. When I felt this penetrating glance, this exploration of my whole being, I could not but fancy that the spell of your blindness would at last be broken.
"He will recognise me! He will recognise me!" My soul trembled with expectation.
But you did not recognise me. No, you did not recognise me. Never had I been more of a stranger to you than I was at that moment, for had it been otherwise you could not possibly have done what you did a few minutes later.
You had kissed me again, had kissed me passionately (热情地). My hair had been ruffled (乱), and I had to tidy it once more.
Standing at the glass, I saw in it - and as I saw, I was overcome with shame and horror - that you were surreptitiously (偷偷地) slipping a couple of banknotes into my muff (暖手筒).
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I could hardly refrain (克制) from crying out; I could hardly refrain from slapping (拍击) your face.
You were paying me for the night I had spent with you, me who had loved you since childhood, me the mother of your son.
To you I was only a prostitute (妓女) picked up at a dancing-hall. It was not enough that you should forget me; you had to pay me, and to debase me by doing so.
I hastily gathered up my belongings (所有物), that I might escape as quickly as possible; the pain was too great. I looked round for my hat.
There it was, on the writing-table, beside the vase with the white roses, my roses. I had an irresistible (不可抵抗的) desire to make a last effort to awaken your memory.
"Will you give me one of your white roses?" - "Of course," you answered, lifting them all out of the vase.
"But perhaps they were given you by a woman, a woman who loves you?"-"Maybe," you replied, "I don't know. They were a present, but I don't know who sent them; that's why I'm so fond of them."
I looked at you intently: "Perhaps they were sent you by a woman whom you have forgotten!"
