《The English Patient》第50章

d　or　she　realized　suddenly　that　wondrous　thing　about　the　human　being；　it　can　change。　she　did　not　have　to　remain　a　socialite　who　had　married　an　adventurer。　she　was　discovering　herself。　it　was　painful　to　watch；　because　clifton　could　not　see　it；　her　self…education。　she　read　everything　about　the　desert。　she　could　talk　about　uweinat　and　the　lost　oasis；　had　even　hunted　down　marginal　articles。　
i　was　a　man　fifteen　years　older　than　she；　you　understand。　i　had　reached　that　stage　in　life　where　i　identified　with　cynical　villains　in　a　book。　i　don’t　believe　in　permanence；　in　relationships　that　span　ages。　i　was　fifteen　years　older。　but　she　was　smarter。　
she　was　hungrier　to　change　than　i　expected。　
what　altered　her　during　their　postponed　honeymoon　on　the　nile　estuary　outside　cairo？　we　had　seen　them　for　a　few　days　—they　had　arrived　two　weeks　after　their　cheshire　wedding。　he　had　brought　his　bride　along；　as　he　couldn’t　leave　her　and　he　couldn’t　break　the　mitment　to　us。　to　madox　and　me。　we　would　have　devoured　him。　so　her　bony　knees　emerged　from　the　plane　that　day。　that　was　the　burden　of　our　story。　our　situation。　
clifton　celebrated　the　beauty　of　her　arms；　the　thin　lines　of　her　ankles。　he　described　witnessing　her　swim。　he　spoke　about　the　new　bidets　in　the　hotel　suite。　her　ravenous　hunger　at　breakfast。　
to　all　that；　i　didn’t　say　a　word。　i　would　look　up　sometimes　as　he　spoke　and　catch　her　glance；　witnessing　my　unspokenexasperation；　and　then　her　demure　smile。　there　was　some　irony。　i　was　the　older　man。　i　was　the　man　of　the　world；　who　had　walked　ten　years　earlier　from　dakhla　oasis　to　the　gilf　kebir；　who　charted　the　farafra；　who　knew　cyrenaica　and　had　been　lost　more　than　twice　in　the　sand　sea。　she　met　me　when　i　had　all　those　labels。　or　she　could　twist　a　few　degrees　and　see　the　labels　on　madox。　yet　apart　from　the　geographical　society　we　were　unknown；　we　were　the　thin　edge　of　a　cult　she　had　stumbled　onto　because　of　this　marriage。　
the　words　of　her　husband　in　praise　of　her　meant　nothing。　but　i　am　a　man　whose　life　in　many　ways；　even　as　an　explorer；　has　been　governed　by　words。　by　rumours　and　legends。　charted　things。　shards　written　down。　the　tact　of　words。　in　the　desert　to　repeat　something　would　be　to　fling　more　water　into　the　earth。　here　nuance　took　you　a　hundred　miles。　
our　expedition　was　about　forty　miles　from　uweinat；　and　madox　and　i　were　to　leave　alone　on　a　reconnaissance。　the　cliftons　and　the　others　were　to　remain　behind。　she　had　consumed　all　her　reading　and　asked　me　for　books。　i　had　nothing　but　maps　with　me。　“that　book　you　look　at　in　the　evenings？”　“herodotus。　ahh。　you　want　that？”　“i　don’t　presume。　if　it　is　private。”　“i　have　my　notes　within　it。　and　cuttings。　i　need　it　with　me。”　“it　was　forward　of　me；　excuse　me。”　“when　i　return　i　shall　show　it　to　you。　it　is　unusual　for　me　to　travel　without　it。”　all　this　occurred　with　much　grace　and　courtesy。　i　explained　it　was　more　a　monplace　book；　and　she　bowed　to　that。　i　was　able　to　leave　without　feeling　in　any　way　selfish。　i　acknowledged　her　graciousness。　clifton　was　not　there。　we　were　alone。　i　had　been　packing　in　my　tent　when　she　had　approached　me。　i　am　a　man　who　has　turned　my　back　on　much　of　the　social　world；　but　sometimes　i　appreciate　the　delicacy　of　manner。　
we　returned　a　week　later。　much　had　happened　in　terms　of　findings　and　piecings　together。　we　were　in　good　spirits。　there　was　a　small　celebration　at　the　camp。　clifton　was　always　one　to　celebrate　others。　it　was　catching。　
she　approached　me　with　a　cup　of　water。　“congratulations；　i　heard　from　geoffrey　already—”　“yes！”　“here；　drink　this。”　i　put　out　my　hand　and　she　placed　the　cup　in　my　palm。　the　water　was　very　cold　after　the　stuff　in　the　canteens　we　had　been　drinking。　
“geoffrey　has　planned　a　party　for　you。　he’s　writing　a　song　and　wants　me　to　read　a　poem；　but　i　want　to　do　something　else。”　“here；　take　the　book　and　look　through　it。”　i　pulled　it　from　my　knapsack　and　handed　it　to　her。　
after　the　meal　and　herb　teas　clifton　brought　out　a　bottle　of　cognac　he　had　hidden　from　everyone　till　this　moment。　the　whole　bottle　was　to　be　drunk　that　night　during　madox’s　account　of　our　journey；　clifton’s　funny　song。　then　she　began　to　read　from　the　histories—the　story　of　candaules　and　his　queen。　i　always　skim　past　that　story。　it　is　early　in　the　book　and　has　little　to　do　with　the　places　and　period　i　am　interested　in。　but　it　is　of　course　a　famous　story。　it　was　also　what　she　had　chosen　to　talk　about。　
this　candaules　had　bee　passionately　in　love　with　his　own　wife；　and　having　bee　so；　he　deemed　that　his　wife　was　fairer　by　far　than　all　other　women。　to　gyges；　the　son　of　daskylus　（for　he　of　all　his　spearmen　was　the　most　pleasing　to　him）；　he　used　to　describe　the　beauty　of　his　wife；　praising　it　above　all　measure。　
“are　you　listening；　geoffrey？” “yes；　my　darling。” he　said　to　gyges：　“gyges；　i　think　that　you　do　not　believe　me　when　i　tell　you　of　the　beauty　of　my　wife；　for　it　happens　that　men’s　ears　are　less　apt　of　belief　than　their　eyes。　contrive　therefore　means　by　which　you　may　look　upon　her　naked。” there　are　several　things　one　can　say。　knowing　that　eventually　i　will　bee　her　lover；　just　as　gyges　will　be　the　queen’s　lover　and　murderer　of　candaules。　i　would　often　open　herodotus　for　a　clue　to　geography。　but　katharine　had　done　that　as　a　window　to　her　life。　her　voice　was　wary　as　she　read。　her　eyes　only　on　the　page　where　the　story　was；　as　if　she　were　sinking　within　quicksand　while　she　spoke。　
“i　believe　indeed　that　she　is　of　all　women　the　fairest　and　i　entreat　you　not　to　ask　of　me　that　which　it　is　not　lawful　for　me　to　do。”　but　the　king　answered　him　thus：　“be　of　good　courage；　gyges；　and　have　no　fear；　either　of　me；　that　i　am　saying　these　words　to　try　you；　or　of　my　wife；　lest　any　harm　may　happen　to　you　from　her。　for　i　will　contrive　it　so　from　the　first　that　she　shall　not　perceive　that　she　has　been　seen　by　you。” this　is　a　story　of　how　i　fell　in　love　with　a　woman；　who　read　me　a　specific　story　from　herodotus。　i　heard　the　words　she　spoke　across　the　fire；　never　looking　up；　even　when　she　teased　her　husband。　perhaps　she　was　just　reading　it　to　him。　perhaps　there　was　no　ulterior　motive　in　the　selection　except　for　themselves。　it　w