那是在我丈夫死后两天-两天!而他头顶上的大地依然是一片荒芜。我在他们的大厅里扫地毯。在四号房间——贴着红墙纸的房间——几个合唱队的姑娘和小伙子正在唱那首歌:“他们将很快在银把手的盒子周围点燃蜡烛”——听到他们唱这首歌，我哭了起来。就在这时，他走了过来，停在楼梯上，转过身来看着我，从嘴里拿起雪茄，微微一笑，说:“喂，怎么了?”然后走下来，在我靠在墙上的地方，摸了摸我的肩膀，用他的胳膊搂着我……想到这事，我心里很难过——想到那天晚上又下着雨，天气又冷，吉姆又不习惯死去——我很高兴他能同情我，摸着他的胳膊，我靠在他身上哭了起来。我还没反应过来，他就把我带进了一间屋子桌子摆好了，没人，让我坐在沙发上，紧紧抱着我，跟我说话，告诉我不要哭，说没关系，他会照顾我的-但别哭，我的眼睛都红了，这让我不漂亮。他是如此的好，当他把我的脸放在他的双手之间，看着我，用他那双蓝色的眼睛，微笑，俯身，吻我——不知何故，我不能告诉他不要这样做，不知何故，我不介意，我让他吻我，闭上我的眼睛!……嗯，事情就是这样开始的。 For when my heart was eased with crying, and grief Had passed and left me quiet, somehow it seemed As if it wasn't honest to change my mind, To send him away, or say I hadn't meant it— And, anyway, it seemed so hard to explain! And so we sat and talked, not talking much, But meaning as much in silence as in words, There in that empty room with palms about us, That private dining-room . . . And as we sat there I felt my future changing, day by day, With unknown streets opening left and right, New streets with farther lights, new taller houses, Doors swinging into hallways filled with light, Half-opened luminous windows, with white curtains Streaming out in the night, and sudden music,— And thinking of this, and through it half remembering A quick and horrible death, my husband's eyes, The broken-plastered walls, my boy asleep,— It seemed as if my brain would break in two. My voice began to tremble . . . and when I stood, And told him I must go, and said good-night— I couldn't see the end. How would it end? Would he return to-morrow? Or would he not? And did I want him to—or would I rather Look for another job?—He took my shoulders Between his hands, and looked down into my eyes, And smiled, and said good-night. If he had kissed me, That would have—well, I don't know; but he didn't . . And so I went downstairs, then, half elated, Hoping to close the door before that party In number four should sing that song again— 'They'll soon be lighting candles round a box with silver handles'— And sure enough, I did. I faced the darkness. And my eyes were filled with tears. And I was happy.