The dining-room was small and the greater part of it was filled by an immense table. On the walls were engravings of scenes from the Bible and illuminated texts.

“Missionaries always have large dining-tables,” Waddington explained. “They get so much a year more for every child they have and they buy their tables when they marry so that there shall be plenty of room for little strangers.”

From the ceiling hung a large paraffin lamp, so that Kitty was able to see better what sort of a man Waddington was. His baldness had deceived her into thinking him no longer young, but she saw now that he must be well under forty. His face, small under a high, rounded forehead, was unlined and fresh-coloured; it was ugly like a monkey's, but with an ugliness that was not without charm; it was an amusing face. His features, his nose and his mouth, were hardly larger than a child's, and he had small, very bright blue eyes. His eyebrows were fair and scanty. He looked like a funny little old boy. He helped himself constantly to liquor and as dinner proceeded it became evident that he was far from sober. But if he was drunk it was without offensiveness, gaily, as a satyr might be who had stolen a wine-skin from a sleeping shepherd.

He talked of Hong Kong; he had many friends there and he wanted to know about them. He had been down for the races a year before and he talked of ponies and their owners.

“By the way, what about Townsend?” he asked suddenly. “Is he going to become Colonial Secretary?”

Kitty felt herself flush, but her husband did not look at her.

“I shouldn't wonder,” he answered.

“He's the sort that gets on.”

“Do you know him?” asked Walter.

“Yes, I know him pretty well. We travelled out from home together once.”

From the other side of the river they heard the beating of gongs and the clatter of fire-crackers. There, so short a way from them, the great city lay in terror; and death, sudden and ruthless, hurried through its tortuous streets. But Waddington began to speak of London. He talked of the theatres. He knew everything that was being played at the moment and he told them what pieces he had seen when he was last home on leave. He laughed as he recollected the humour of this low comedian and sighed as he reflected on the beauty of that star of musical comedy. He was pleased to be able to boast that a cousin of his had married one of the most celebrated. He had lunched with her and she had given him her photograph. He would show it to them when they came and dined with him at the Customs.

Walter looked at his guest with a cold and ironic gaze, but he was evidently not a little amused by him, and he made an effort to show a civil interest in topics of which Kitty was well aware he knew nothing. A faint smile lingered on his lips. But Kitty, she knew not why, was filled with awe. In the house of that dead missionary, over against the stricken city, they seemed immeasurably apart from all the world. Three solitary creatures and strangers to each other.

Dinner was finished and she rose from the table.

“Do you mind if I say good night to you? I'm going to bed.”

“I'll take myself off, I expect the doctor wants to go to bed too,” answered Waddington. “We must be out early to-morrow.”

He shook hands with Kitty. He was quite steady on his feet, but his eyes were shining more than ever.

“I'll come and fetch you,” he told Walter, “and take you to see the Magistrate and Colonel Yü, and then we'll go along to the Convent. You've got your work cut out, I can tell you.”

餐厅不大，而一张很大的桌子占据了房间的大部分空间，四面墙上挂着取材于圣经故事的版画和相应的说明文字。

“传教士们总是有着很大的餐桌，”威廷顿解释道，“他们一年多点就会有一个孩子，所以在他们刚一结婚的时候，就会买上一张大桌子，以便有足够的地儿留给这些小不速之客。”

餐厅的屋顶悬挂着一盏煤油灯，所以凯蒂能够更好地看清威廷顿的尊荣。他的秃顶让她误以为他不再年轻，但现在她看清了，他肯定没有四十岁，又高又圆的前额之下是一张小脸，没有什么棱角，但是很红润，虽然丑得像猴子，但也不能说不忍直视，应该说这是一张蛮逗趣的脸。他的鼻子和嘴比一个孩子的也大不了多少。他有一双很小，但是又亮又圆的蓝眼睛。他的眉毛又淡又稀，看上去像一个未老先衰的小男孩。在晚餐进行的过程中他不停地给自己倒酒，显然已经快醉了。但即使他已经喝醉了，也没有出口伤人，而是快快乐乐地，如同一个半人半兽的森林之神萨堤[1]，从睡着的牧羊人那里偷走酒囊。

他谈到了香港，在那儿他有很多朋友，他想了解他们的近况。一年前他曾在香港赌了好几次马，他谈到了那些赛马和他们的主人。

“顺便问一句，汤森怎么样了？”他突然问道，“他当上殖民地大臣了吗？”

凯蒂觉得自己的脸唰地一下红了，但是她的丈夫并没有看她。

“我觉得不出意外应该不成问题。”沃尔特答道。

“他是那种能往上爬的人。”

“你认识他？”沃尔特问道。

“是的，我和他很熟。我们还曾经一起外出旅游过。”

他们听见从河的对岸传来了敲锣声，还有爆竹噼啪作响的声音。在那儿，就在距离他们不远的地方，这座大一些的城市正处于恐怖之中，死神，突如其来而又冷酷无情地匆匆掠过它弯弯曲曲的街道。威廷顿开始说起伦敦，谈到了那儿的剧院，他甚至知道当下正在上演的剧目，他告诉他们上次休假回国时，他看了什么样的演出。他回忆起低俗的喜剧人物的幽默时，会哈哈大笑，而回忆起音乐喜剧中明星的美丽时，又会发出声声叹息。他很开心地吹嘘他的一个表弟就娶了一位最出名的明星，他还和这位明星一起吃过午餐，她还送了他自己的玉照，等下次他们来海关一起和他共进晚餐时，他会拿给他们看的。

沃尔特用一种冷淡和讽刺的眼神看着他的客人，很显然他没有受到对方逗趣谈吐的影响，但是他还是尽力装出有礼貌的样子，好像对那些话题感兴趣。其实凯蒂很清楚，他对这些话题一无所知，但一丝淡淡的微笑始终挂在嘴角。然而凯蒂不知道为什么心中充满了敬畏。这座已经死去的传教士留下的房子正对着瘟疫肆虐的城市，他们似乎与整个世界相隔离，三个孤独而又彼此陌生的人相对而坐。

晚餐吃完了，她从桌边站起身来。

“你不介意我跟您道晚安吧？我想去睡了。”

“我也要告退了，我希望医生也早点儿休息。”威廷顿回答道，“我们明天一大早就得出发。”

他和凯蒂握了握手，步伐倒是很稳，但他的眼睛比以往更亮了。

“明天我会来接你。”他跟沃尔特说道，“带你去见地方官和余上校，然后我们一起去女修道院。我告诉你，你可有的忙了。”

* * *

[1]萨堤（satyr），古希腊神话中的森林之神，半人半兽，好酒色。