死亡约会 Part I Chapter 10（1）

（单词翻译）

Chapter 10

It was the morning of the start to Petra.

Sarah came down to find a big masterful woman with a rocking-horse nose, whom she hadalready noticed in the hotel, outside the main entrance, objecting fiercely to the size of the car.

‘A great deal too small! Four passengers? And a dragoman? Then, of course, we must have amuch larger saloon. Please take that car away and return with one of an adequate size.’

In vain did the representative of Messrs Castle raise his voice in explanation. That was the sizeof car always provided. It was really a most comfortable car. A larger car was not suitable fordesert travel. The large woman, metaphorically¹ speaking, rolled over him like a large steamroller.

Then she turned her attention to Sarah.

‘Miss King? I am Lady Westholme. I am sure you agree with me that that car was grosslyinadequate as to size?’

‘Well,’ said Sarah cautiously, ‘I agree that a larger one would be more comfortable!’

The young man from Castle’s murmured that a larger car would add to the price.

‘The price,’ said Lady Westholme firmly, ‘is inclusive, and I shall certainly refuse to sanctionany addition to it. Your prospectus² distinctly states “in comfortable saloon car”. You will keep tothe terms of your agreement.’

Recognizing defeat, the young man from Castle’s murmured something about seeing what hecould do and wilted³ away from the spot.

Lady Westholme turned to Sarah, a smile of triumph on her weather-beaten countenance⁴, herlarge red rocking-horse nostrils⁵ dilated⁶ exultantly⁷.

Lady Westholme was a very well-known figure in the English political world. When LordWestholme, a middle- aged⁸, simple- minded peer whose only interests in life were hunting,shooting and fishing, was returning from a trip to the United States, one of his fellow passengerswas a Mrs Vansittart. Shortly afterwards Mrs Vansittart became Lady Westholme. The match wasoften cited as one of the examples of the danger of ocean voyages. The new Lady Westholmelived entirely⁹ in tweeds and stout¹⁰ brogues, bred dogs, bullied¹¹ the villagers and forced her husbandpitilessly into public life. It being borne in upon her, however, that politics were not LordWestholme’s métier in life and never would be, she graciously allowed him to resume his sportingactivities and herself stood for Parliament. Being elected with a substantial majority, LadyWestholme threw herself with vigour¹² into political life, being especially active at Question Time.

Cartoons of her soon began to appear (always a sure sign of success). As a public figure she stoodfor the old-fashioned values of family life, welfare work amongst women, and was an ardentsupporter of the League of Nations. She had decided¹³ views on questions of Agriculture, Housingand Slum Clearance¹⁴. She was much respected and almost universally disliked! It was highlypossible that she would be given an under-secretaryship when her party returned to power. At themoment a Liberal Government (owing to a split in the National Government between Labour andConservatives) was somewhat unexpectedly in power.

Lady Westholme looked with grim satisfaction after the departing car. ‘Men always think theycan impose upon women,’ she said.

Sarah thought that it would be a brave man who thought he could impose upon LadyWestholme! She introduced Dr Gerard, who had just come out of the hotel.

‘Your name is, of course, familiar to me,’ said Lady Westholme, shaking hands. ‘I was talkingto Professor Chantereau the other day in Paris. I have been taking up the question of the treatmentof pauper¹⁵ lunatics very strongly lately. Very strongly indeed. Shall we come inside while we waitfor a better car to be obtained?’

A vague little middle-aged¹⁶ lady with wisps of grey hair who was hovering¹⁷ nearby turned out tobe Miss Amabel Pierce, the fourth member of the party. She, too, was swept into the lounge underLady Westholme’s protecting wing.

‘You are a professional woman, Miss King?’

‘I’ve just taken my M.B.’

‘Good,’ said Lady Westholme with condescending¹⁸ approval. ‘If anything is to be accomplished,mark my words, it is women who will do it.’

Uneasily conscious for the first time of her sex, Sarah followed Lady Westholme meekly¹⁹ to aseat.

There, as they sat waiting, Lady Westholme informed them that she had refused an invitation tostay with the High Commissioner²⁰ during her stay in Jerusalem. ‘I did not want to be hampered²¹ byofficialdom. I wished to look into things by myself.’

‘What things?’ Sarah wondered.

Lady Westholme went on to explain that she was staying at the Solomon Hotel so as to remainunhampered. She added that she had made several suggestions to the manager for the morecompetent running of his hotel.

‘Efficiency,’ said Lady Westholme, ‘is my watchword.’

It certainly seemed to be! In a quarter of an hour a large and extremely comfortable car arrivedand in due course—after advice from Lady Westholme as to how the luggage should be stowed—the party set off.

Their first halt was the Dead Sea. They had lunch at Jericho. Afterwards when LadyWestholme, armed with a Baedeker, had gone off with Miss Pierce, the doctor and the fatdragoman, to do a tour of old Jericho, Sarah remained in the garden of the hotel.

Her head ached slightly and she wanted to be alone. A deep depression weighed her down—adepression for which she found it hard to account. She felt suddenly listless and uninterested,disinclined for sightseeing, bored by her companions. She wished at this moment that she hadnever committed herself to this Petra tour. It was going to be very expensive and she felt quite sureshe wasn’t going to enjoy it! Lady Westholme’s booming voice, Miss Pierce’s endless twitterings,and the anti-Zionist lamentation²² of the dragoman, were already fraying²³ her nerves to a frazzle. Shedisliked almost as much Dr Gerard’s amused air of knowing exactly how she was feeling.

She wondered where the Boyntons were now—perhaps they had gone on to Syria—they mightbe at Baalbek or Damascus. Raymond—she wondered what Raymond was doing. Strange howclearly she could see his face—its eagerness—its diffidence—its nervous tension…