They were waiting for him and incomplete without him. He was still the incalculable element; Miss Warren and the young Italian wore their anticipation as obviously as Nicole. The salon of the hotel, a room of fabled acoustics, was stripped for dancing but there was a small gallery of Englishwomen of a certain age, with neckbands, dyed hair and faces powdered pinkish gray; and of American women of a certain age, with snowy-white transformations, black dresses and lips of cherry red. Miss Warren and Marmora were at a corner table—Nicole was diagonally across from them forty yards away, and as Dick arrived he heard her voice:

“Can you hear me? I’m speaking naturally.”

“Perfectly,”

“Hello, Doctor Diver.”

“What’s this?”

“You realize the people in the centre of the floor can’t hear what I say, but you can?”

“A waiter told us about it,” said Miss Warren. “Corner to corner—it’s like wireless.”

It was exciting up on the mountain, like a ship at sea. Presently Marmora’s parents joined them. They treated the Warrens with respect—Dick gathered that their fortunes had something to do with a bank in Milan that had something to do with the Warren fortunes. But Baby Warren wanted to talk to Dick, wanted to talk to him with the impetus that sent her out vagrantly toward all new men, as though she were on an inelastic tether and considered that she might as well get to the end of it as soon as possible. She crossed and recrossed her knees frequently in the manner of tall restless virgins.

“—Nicole told me that you took part care of her, and had a lot to do with her getting well. What I can’t understand is what we’re supposed to do—they were so indefinite at the sanitarium; they only told me she ought to be natural and gay. I knew the Marmoras were up here so I asked Tino to meet us at the funicular. And you see what happens—the very first thing Nicole has him crawling over the sides of the car as if they were both insane—”

“That was absolutely normal,” Dick laughed. “I’d call it a good sign. They were showing off for each other.”

“But how can I tell? Before I knew it, almost in front of my eyes, she had her hair cut off, in Zurich, because of a picture in Vanity Fair.”

“That’s all right. She’s a schizoid—a permanent eccentric. You can’t change that.”

“What is it?”

“Just what I said—an eccentric.”

“Well, how can any one tell what’s eccentric and what’s crazy?”

“Nothing is going to be crazy—Nicole is all fresh and happy, you needn’t be afraid.”

Baby shifted her knees about—she was a compendium of all the discontented women who had loved Byron a hundred years before, yet, in spite of the tragic affair with the guards’ officer there was something wooden and onanistic about her.

“I don’t mind the responsibility,” she declared, “but I’m in the air. We’ve never had anything like this in the family before—we know Nicole had some shock and my opinion is it was about a boy, but we don’t really know. Father says he would have shot him if he could have found out.”

The orchestra was playing “Poor Butterfly;” young Marmora was dancing with his mother. It was a tune new enough to them all. Listening, and watching Nicole’s shoulders as she chattered to the elder Marmora, whose hair was dashed with white like a piano keyboard, Dick thought of the shoulders of a violin, and then he thought of the dishonor, the secret. Oh, butterfly—the moments pass into hours—

“Actually I have a plan,” Baby continued with apologetic hardness. “It may seem absolutely impractical to you but they say Nicole will need to be looked after for a few years. I don’t know whether you know Chicago or not—”

“I don’t.”

“Well, there’s a North Side and a South Side and they’re very much separated. The North Side is chic and all that, and we’ve always lived over there, at least for many years, but lots of old families, old Chicago families, if you know what I mean, still live on the South Side. The University is there. I mean it’s stuffy to some people, but anyhow it’s different from the North Side. I don’t know whether you understand.”

He nodded. With some concentration he had been able to follow her.

“Now of course we have lots of connections there—Father controls certain chairs and fellowships and so forth at the University, and I thought if we took Nicole home and threw her with that crowd—you see she’s quite musical and speaks all these languages—what could be better in her condition than if she fell in love with some good doctor—”

A burst of hilarity surged up in Dick, the Warrens were going to buy Nicole a doctor—You got a nice doctor you can let us use? There was no use worrying about Nicole when they were in the position of being able to buy her a nice young doctor, the paint scarcely dry on him.

“But how about the doctor?” he said automatically.

“There must be many who’d jump at the chance.”

The dancers were back, but Baby whispered quickly:

“This is the sort of thing I mean. Now where is Nicole—she’s gone off somewhere. Is she upstairs in her room? What am I supposed to do? I never know whether it’s something innocent or whether I ought to go find her.”

“Perhaps she just wants to be by herself—people living alone get used to loneliness.” Seeing that Miss Warren was not listening he stopped.“I’ll take a look around.”

For a moment all the outdoors shut in with mist was like spring with the curtains drawn. Life was gathered near the hotel. Dick passed some cellar windows where bus boys sat on bunks and played cards over a litre of Spanish wine. As he approached the promenade, the stars began to come through the white crests of the high Alps. On the horseshoe walk overlooking the lake Nicole was the figure motionless between two lamp stands, and he approached silently across the grass. She turned to him with an expression of:“Here you are,” and for a moment he was sorry he had come.

“Your sister wondered.”

“Oh!” She was accustomed to being watched. With an effort she explained herself:“Sometimes I get a little—it gets a little too much. I’ve lived so quietly. To-night that music was too much. It made me want to cry—”

“I understand.”

“This has been an awfully exciting day.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to do anything anti-social—I’ve caused everybody enough trouble. But to-night I wanted to get away.”

It occurred to Dick suddenly, as it might occur to a dying man that he had forgotten to tell where his will was, that Nicole had been “re-educated” by Dohmler and the ghostly generations behind him; it occurred to him also that there would be so much she would have to be told. But having recorded this wisdom within himself, he yielded to the insistent face-value of the situation and said:

“You’re a nice person—just keep using your own judgment about yourself.”

“You like me?”

“Of course.”

“Would you—” They were strolling along toward the dim end of the horseshoe, two hundred yards ahead. “If I hadn’t been sick would you—I mean, would I have been the sort of girl you might have—oh, slush, you know what I mean.”

He was in for it now, possessed by a vast irrationality. She was so near that he felt his breathing change but again his training came to his aid in a boy’s laugh and a trite remark.

“You’re teasing yourself, my dear. Once I knew a man who fell in love with his nurse—” The anecdote rambled on, punctuated by their footsteps. Suddenly Nicole interrupted in succinct Chicagoese:“Bull!”

“That’s a very vulgar expression.”

“What about it?” she flared up. “You don’t think I’ve got any common sense—before I was sick I didn’t have any, but I have now. And if I don’t know you’re the most attractive man I ever met you must think I’m still crazy. It’s my hard luck, all right—but don’t pretend I don’t know—I know everything about you and me.”

Dick was at an additional disadvantage. He remembered the statement of the elder Miss Warren as to the young doctors that could be purchased in the intellectual stockyards of the South Side of Chicago, and he hardened for a moment. “You’re a fetching kid, but I couldn’t fall in love.”

“You won’t give me a chance.”

“What!”

The impertinence, the right to invade implied, astounded him. Short of anarchy he could not think of any chance that Nicole Warren deserved.

“Give me a chance now.”

The voice fell low, sank into her breast and stretched the tight bodice over her heart as she came up close. He felt the young lips, her body sighing in relief against the arm growing stronger to hold her. There were now no more plans than if Dick had arbitrarily made some indissoluble mixture, with atoms joined and inseparable; you could throw it all out but never again could they fit back into atomic scale. As he held her and tasted her, and as she curved in further and further toward him, with her own lips, new to herself, drowned and engulfed in love, yet solaced and triumphant, he was thankful to have an existence at all, if only as a reflection in her wet eyes.

“My God,” he gasped, “you’re fun to kiss.”

That was talk, but Nicole had a better hold on him now and she held it; she turned coquette and walked away, leaving him as suspended as in the funicular of the afternoon. She felt: There, that’ll show him, how conceited; how he could do with me; oh, wasn’t it wonderful! I’ve got him, he’s mine. Now in the sequence came flight, but it was all so sweet and new that she dawdled, wanting to draw all of it in.

She shivered suddenly. Two thousand feet below she saw the necklace and bracelet of lights that were Montreux and Vevey, beyond them a dim pendant of Lausanne. From down there somewhere ascended a faint sound of dance music. Nicole was up in her head now, cool as cool, trying to collate the sentimentalities of her childhood, as deliberate as a man getting drunk after battle. But she was still afraid of Dick, who stood near her, leaning, characteristically, against the iron fence that rimmed the horseshoe; and this prompted her to say:“I can remember how I stood waiting for you in the garden—holding all my self in my arms like a basket of flowers. It was that to me anyhow—I thought I was sweet—waiting to hand that basket to you.”

He breathed over her shoulder and turned her insistently about; she kissed him several times, her face getting big every time she came close, her hands holding him by the shoulders.

“It’s raining hard.”

Suddenly there was a booming from the wine slopes across the lake; cannons were shooting at hail-bearing clouds in order to break them. The lights of the promenade went off, went on again. Then the storm came swiftly, first falling from the heavens, then doubly falling in torrents from the mountains and washing loud down the roads and stone ditches; with it came a dark, frightening sky and savage filaments of lightning and world-splitting thunder, while ragged, destroying clouds fled along past the hotel. Mountains and lake disappeared—the hotel crouched amid tumult, chaos and darkness.

By this time Dick and Nicole had reached the vestibule, where Baby Warren and the three Marmoras were anxiously awaiting them. It was exciting coming out of the wet fog—with the doors banging, to stand and laugh and quiver with emotion, wind in their ears and rain on their clothes. Now in the ballroom the orchestra was playing a Strauss waltz, high and confusing.

…For Doctor Diver to marry a mental patient? How did it happen? Where did it begin?

“Won’t you come back after you’ve changed?” Baby Warren asked after a close scrutiny.

“I haven’t got any change, except some shorts.”

As he trudged up to his hotel in a borrowed raincoat he kept laughing derisively in his throat.

“Big chance—oh, yes. My God!—they decided to buy a doctor? Well, they better stick to whoever they’ve got in Chicago.” Revolted by his harshness he made amends to Nicole, remembering that nothing had ever felt so young as her lips, remembering rain like tears shed for him that lay upon her softly shining porcelain cheeks…. The silence of the storm ceasing woke him about three o’clock and he went to the window. Her beauty climbed the rolling slope, it came into the room, rustling ghost-like through the curtains….

…He climbed two thousand meters to Rochers de Naye the following morning, amused by the fact that his conductor of the day before was using his day off to climb also.

Then Dick descended all the way to Montreux for a swim, got back to his hotel in time for dinner. Two notes awaited him.

“I’m not ashamed about last night—it was the nicest thing that ever happened to me and even if I never saw you again, Mon Capitaine, I would be glad it happened.”

That was disarming enough—the heavy shade of Dohmler retreated as Dick opened the second envelope:

DEAR DOCTOR DIVER: I phoned but you were out. I wonder if I may ask you a great big favor. Unforeseen circumstances call me back to Paris, and I find I can make better time by way of Lausanne. Can you let Nicole ride as far as Zurich with you, since you are going back Monday? And drop her at the sanitarium? Is this too much to ask?

Sincerely,

BETH EVAN WARREN.

Dick was furious—Miss Warren had known he had a bicycle with him; yet she had so phrased her note that it was impossible to refuse. Throw us together! Sweet propinquity and the Warren money!

He was wrong; Baby Warren had no such intentions. She had looked Dick over with worldly eyes, she had measured him with the warped rule of an Anglophile and found him wanting—in spite of the fact that she found him toothsome. But for her he was too “intellectual” and she pigeonholed him with a shabby-snobby crowd she had once known in London—he put himself out too much to be really of the correct stuff. She could not see how he could be made into her idea of an aristocrat.

In addition to that he was stubborn—she had seen him leave her conversation and get down behind his eyes in that odd way that people did, half a dozen times. She had not liked Nicole’s free and easy manner as a child and now she was sensibly habituated to thinking of her as a “gone coon;” and anyhow Doctor Diver was not the sort of medical man she could envisage in the family.

She only wanted to use him innocently as a convenience.

But her request had the effect that Dick assumed she desired. A ride in a train can be a terrible, heavy-hearted or comic thing; it can be a trial flight; it can be a prefiguration of another journey just as a given day with a friend can be long, from the taste of hurry in the morning up to the realization of both being hungry and taking food together. Then comes the afternoon with the journey fading and dying, but quickening again at the end. Dick was sad to see Nicole’s meagre joy; yet it was a relief for her, going back to the only home she knew. They made no love that day, but when he left her outside the sad door on the Zürichsee and she turned and looked at him he knew her problem was one they had together for good now.

他们在等他——没有他在场，他们觉得似乎缺了什么。可是，他来不来却是个未知数。沃伦小姐以及那位意大利小伙子和尼科尔一样，显然也等得焦心如焚。旅馆的客厅豪华气派，据说有神奇的音响效果，此时已腾空，准备举办舞会。可是，厅里只有几个上了年纪的英国妇人，围着颈带，染了头发，涂脂抹粉，脸色青灰；还有几个中年美国女子，戴着雪白的假发，身着黑衣，嘴唇涂成了樱桃红。沃伦小姐和马尔莫拉坐在墙角的一张桌子旁。尼科尔则坐在距他们四十码远的斜对面，迪克一进来就听到了她的说话声：“我用正常的声音说话，你们能听见吗？”

“听得很清楚。”

“你好，戴弗医生。”

“这是在干什么？”

“你们注意到没有，房间中央的人听不见我说话，但你们能听见，是不是？”

“服务员介绍过这种现象，”沃伦小姐说，“在这儿，声音的传播是从一个墙角传到另一个墙角——就像无线电讯号的传播。”

置身于山巅，犹如乘船航行在茫茫的大海之上，人人都感到兴奋。过了一会儿，马尔莫拉的父母走了过来。他们对沃伦姐妹非常尊重——迪克推测他们的财产同米兰的一家银行有关，而那家银行又同沃伦家的资产有关……但芭比·沃伦想同迪克说话，她心里有一种冲动——正是这种冲动使得她见了新结识的男人就想扑过去，仿佛身上拴着一根没有弹性的绳子，非得把绳子拽得紧得不能再紧才肯罢休。但见这位高挑的处女一副坐立不安的样子，一会儿跷起腿，一会儿又把腿放下。

“尼科尔告诉我，说你照顾过她，为她身体的康复操了不少心。我们也不知道该怎么办才好……诊所里的人说话模棱两可，只是说她应该顺其自然，心情放轻松一些。这次，我知道马尔莫拉一家会来，所以我让蒂诺在缆车站等我们。你看看他们都干了些什么——尼科尔一见他，就让他爬缆车，两人就好像是疯子……”

“这很正常。”迪克笑道，“我要说这是一个好现象。他们这是在向对方展现自我嘛。”

“反正我是无法理解。在苏黎世城，我还没弄清是怎么回事，她几乎就当着我的面把头发给剪了，就因为《名利场》中的一幅插图。”

“那很正常。她患有精神分裂症，做事难免会有些古怪，改是改不了的。”

“你说什么？”

“我是说她做事有些古怪。”

“哦，是古怪还是发疯，谁又能区别得了呢？”

“绝对不是发疯——尼科尔精神很好，心情也愉快，你不用担心。”

芭比换了一下跷着的腿。尽管她同那个战死的近卫军军官的婚事已化为泡影，以悲剧告终，使得她有些呆滞、伤感，但她仍然不知餍足，跟百年前那些曾经爱过拜伦的女子一个样。

“我不管什么责任不责任，”她说道，“但我实在是一头雾水，不明白是怎么回事。我们家以前从未遇见过这种事。尼科尔显然受到了刺激，我觉得肯定跟哪个男孩子有关，但究竟是何人谁都不清楚。父亲说一旦查出是谁，非杀了他不可。”

这时，乐队在演奏《可怜的蝴蝶》。小马尔莫拉同他的母亲翩然起舞。听着这支曲子，他们都觉得新鲜。迪克一边听曲子，一边看着正在与老马尔莫拉交谈的尼科尔的肩膀。老马尔莫拉的头发扑了白粉，看上去像钢琴的键盘，这使迪克联想起小提琴的肩托，又想到那桩丑事，那个秘密。乐曲在他的耳边回响：

啊，可怜的蝴蝶呀，一失足便成千古恨……

“实际上，我倒有个计划，”芭比带点歉意地接着说道，语气显得有些生硬，“也许你觉得这绝对行不通，但他们说尼科尔这几年需要照料。我不知道你是否熟悉芝加哥……”

“我不熟悉。”

“是吗？那儿有北区和南区之分，差别很大。北区环境优美，我们常常住在那儿，起码也有许多年头了。不过，很多旧世家，芝加哥的古老家族，希望你能明白我所说的话，仍然住在南区。芝加哥大学也在南区。对有些人来说，那地方恐怕沉闷乏味，但不管怎样，与北区相比，却有其独特之处。不知道你是否能明白我的意思。”

他点了点头。他集中注意力还是能够听明白她的话的。

“当然，我们家在那儿人脉很广……父亲在大学里控制着一些教授职位和研究员的位置，还有其他的一些东西。我觉得如果带尼科尔回国，让她进入那个圈子……你了解她，她很有音乐天赋，并且会说多种语言……像她这种状况，如果能爱上一位出色的医生，可能会有柳暗花明的转机……”

迪克禁不住乐得直想笑。哈，沃伦家族要给尼科尔买一个医生女婿喽！他心想：“有个出类拔萃的女婿，能不能借给我们用一下呢？”既然她家里能给尼科尔买一个优秀的年轻医生当乘龙快婿，他也就不必为她操心了。脸上的笑意几乎还没有消失，他便随口问道：“那个医生物色好了吗？”

“肯定会有很多人打破头都想争取到这个机会。”

跳舞的人回到了座位上。芭比压低声音急促地说：“我要说的就是这件事。哦，尼科尔跑到哪里了？她怎么走了！是不是上楼去她自己的房间了？我该怎么办呢？真不知由她去好呢，还是去找她好。”

“也许，她只是想清静清静——她老是一个人，已经习惯了过清净日子。”迪克见对方没在听，于是便又说：“我出去随便看看。”

外边暮色苍茫，就好像罩了几道帷幕的春天，远处什么也看不见，只好在旅馆附近转转了。从旅馆地下室的窗户旁走过，他看见几个服务员坐在地下室的床上，一边喝西班牙葡萄酒，一边在斗牌。他迈着步子来到游廊时，天空已有星星在高耸的、白雪皑皑的阿尔卑斯山峰那儿闪烁。远远望见尼科尔一动不动地站在小径的两根灯柱之间，从那儿可以俯视湖面，于是他便穿过草地悄悄地走了过去。尼科尔转过身来，露出惊异的表情，仿佛在责备他不该来。一时间他后悔得不得了，觉得自己的确不该来。

“你姐姐在为你担心呢。”

“明白了！”她已习惯了被人严加看守，于是便解释了几句，“有时候我有点……有点受不了。我的日子一直都过得平静如水，可今晚的音乐搅得我心乱，使我直想哭……”

“我理解你的心情。”

“今天是个叫人无比兴奋的日子。”

“我不想扫大家的兴——我给大家添的麻烦已经够多的了。不过，今晚我就是想离开人群，自己清静清静。”

这时，迪克就像一个垂死的人忘记了说出遗嘱放在何处，临终前才突然记了起来——他记起多姆勒和他身后的那些若隐若现的“几代人”曾对尼科尔进行过“再教育”。他觉得有些细节应该让尼科尔知道，但转念一想，觉得眼下还不是时候，于是就将要说的话咽了回去，审时度势地说：“你是个挺不错的人……你应该相信自己，对自己有个正确的判断。”

“你喜欢我吗？”

“当然。”

“你愿意……”尼科尔说着话，一边和他一道沿着马蹄形的小径散步，朝着两百码开外小径那黑暗一片的尽头走去，“如果我没病，你是不是愿意……我是说你是不是愿意我这样的女孩……哎呀，不说啦，你知道我的意思。”

此时此刻，迪克已经失去了理智。她靠得这么近，使得他呼吸加快。但就在这时，他所受过的训练帮了他的忙。只见他像个孩子一样咯咯一笑，然后发表了一通陈腐的议论：“你说这话只是开个玩笑。我以前认识个医生，他跟一个护士坠入了爱河……”他一边走着，一边滔滔不绝地讲起了那件风流案。后来，尼科尔突然打断了他的讲述，冒出了一句芝加哥的土话：“活见鬼！”

“这话可是有点太粗俗了。”

“那又怎样？”她怒气冲冲地说，“你别以为我不谙风情。生病之前我的确对这种事一无所知，但现在我什么都知道。你别以为我仍然还昏头昏脑，不知道你是我见过的最有魅力的男子。我固然命运坎坷……但你也别装蒜，以为我不知道！你和我之间有什么感应，我一清二楚！”

一席话顿时叫迪克觉得自己处于劣势。他想起尼科尔的姐姐说要给她在芝加哥南区的知识分子圈子里买年轻医生的话，不由狠下心来说道：“你是个可爱的小姑娘，但我是不能谈恋爱的。”

“你不愿意给我一个机会？”

“什么机会？”

尼科尔语言唐突、态度咄咄逼人，让迪克吃惊。他心慌意乱，想不出尼科尔·沃伦意欲得到的是什么机会。

“现在就给我一个机会吧。”

她边说边凑了上来，声音变得很低，仿佛那声音发自于胸腔，她酥胸高挺，把胸口的衣服绷得紧紧的。迪克吻到了她的芳唇，他搂住她，搂得越来越紧，而她依偎在他的怀里，如释重负地长嘘了一口气。此刻的迪克欲罢不能，平时的谨慎已不复存在，即便他有意要抽出身去也不可能了——二人已胶合在一起，不可分割（你就是把他们硬分开，他们也不能恢复到原来独立的状态了）。他抱住她，品尝着她的芬芳，而她紧贴在他身上，越贴越紧，两片芳唇似乎焕发出了新生，忘情地吻着，沉浸和融化在爱河之中，一颗心感到欣慰和自得。迪克已感受不到自身的存在，即便能感受得到，也只是因为可以在她的一双水汪汪的大眼睛里看到自己的映影。

“天哪，”他喘口气说，“跟你亲吻真是美妙。”

此时，尼科尔已牢牢吸引住了他，将他控制在了手心，听了这话，反倒卖弄起了风情，抽身离开了他，就像下午在缆车站一样，使他感到茫然。她心想：“先给他点颜色瞧瞧，别让他把尾巴翘得太高，对我为所欲为。啊，真是太好了，我终于得到他了，他现在属于我了！”她飘然若仙，感到生活焕然一新，是如此美好，她要细细地、慢慢地品尝这姗姗来迟的幸福。

就在这时，她突然身子一哆嗦，眼睛望着两千英尺高的山下——蒙特勒和沃韦灯火闪烁，那灯光犹如发光的项链和手镯，而更远处则是洛桑市，朦朦胧胧的，似一个吊坠。山下隐约传来舞会的音乐声。她定下心，让大脑冷静下来，不由回忆起了少女时代那段令人感伤的往事，犹如一个人在经历过心理搏斗之后有意要借酒浇愁。这时，迪克已来到她的身旁，潇洒地斜倚在小径边的铁栏杆上。对于他，她仍有几分怯意，喃喃地说道：“记得那天我在花园里等你，把我的心捧在手里，犹如捧着一篮鲜花，准备把它献给你。我当时就是怀着那样的心情……我觉得自己是怀揣着一片真情。”

迪克从后边伏在她的肩头，听了这话，便扳她双肩令她转过身来。她搂着他的双肩，一连吻了他多次，而每一次都使得他把她的娇容看得越发真切。

“雨下大了。”

突然，湖对面暗红色的山坡上传来轰隆一声响——人们在向酝酿冰雹的云层开炮，以便驱散它们。步道上的灯灭了，随后又亮了。接着，暴雨骤至，先是从天上倾泻而下，随后便见山洪奔腾而来，淹没了道路，灌满了石砌的沟渠。天空一片漆黑、异常恐怖，一道道闪电狂怒地划破夜空，雷声震天动地，似乎要毁掉一切的乱云从旅馆旁飞驰而过。湖光山影顿然消失，旅馆蜷缩在喧闹、混乱的茫茫黑暗之中。

迪克和尼科尔走进旅馆的前厅，见芭比·沃伦和马尔莫拉一家三口正在那儿焦急地等他们。冲过雨雾返回旅馆，这段经历令人感到兴奋。当旅馆的大门在他们身后砰地关上时，他们站在前厅里，乐得直笑，激动得浑身发抖——狂风仿佛仍在耳边呼啸，衣服被大雨浇得湿湿的。此刻，舞厅里的乐队正在演奏施特劳斯的华尔兹舞曲，曲调热烈，令人亢奋。

……戴弗医生要娶一个精神病患者吗？这是怎么回事？此话从何谈起？

“你去换换衣服，然后再过来好吗？”芭比·沃伦仔细瞧了他几眼说。

“我没带换洗的衣服，只带了几件短裤。”

迪克借了件雨衣披上，深一脚浅一脚地回他下榻的旅馆，心里一边在暗自嘲笑：“真是机缘凑巧啊！哼，他们不是还要买一个医生当乘龙快婿嘛！那就让他们在芝加哥好好找吧，看他们能找个什么好女婿！”可他又觉得自己这样想未免太刻薄，十分对不起尼科尔——他回想起了她那无与伦比的娇嫩的芳唇给他带来的快感，想起雨点落在她如白瓷般细腻光洁的面颊上，仿佛在为他淌泪……这天夜里约莫三点钟，他一觉醒来，外面已经风停雨住。他走到窗前，仿佛觉得她从那连绵起伏的群山中向他走来，幽灵般掀开窗帘进了屋，发出窸窸窣窣的声音……

……次日上午，他爬了两千米，来到罗耶峰上，惊异地发现昨天的那个缆车售票员今天休假，也来爬山了。

下山后，他跑到蒙特勒去游了一会儿泳，回到旅馆时正赶上吃晚饭。有两封短信在等着他。

一封是尼科尔的，上面写着：“昨晚的事，我不感到后悔——那是我一生中最美好的时刻。即便今生今世再也见不到你，我的上尉，我的心里也会为那一时刻充满喜悦。”

这几句话令他感到欣慰，多姆勒布下的那团阴云刹那间消散了。他打开第二封短信，下面的一段文字映入了眼帘：

亲爱的戴弗医生：

我给你打电话，但你出门去了。不知能否请你帮我一个大忙。发生了一件意外的事情，我需要返回巴黎。为节省时间，我决定从洛桑走。既然你下周一踏上归途，能否让尼科尔跟你一起坐车回苏黎世，然后把她留在诊所？这个请求是否太过分了？

诚挚的

贝丝·埃文·沃伦

迪克火冒三丈——沃伦小姐明知他是骑自行车来的，却提这样的要求！可是，对方措辞委婉，让他无法拒绝。好一个别有用心的姐姐，还有沃伦家的臭钱，竟然硬将他和尼科尔一对孤男寡女抛在了一起！

实际上，他猜错了，因为芭比·沃伦并没有这样的意图。她曾用世故的眼光细细观察过他，还用英国人的那种严苛的择婿标准衡量过他，觉得他虽然一表人才，但尚有欠缺。在她看来，他“书生气”太重，跟她在伦敦认识的那帮穷酸儒生别无两样——他装腔作势，有点华而不实。她觉得他不可能成为她心目中的那种贵族型女婿。

此外，她觉得他有一股牛脾气——交谈时，她注意到他数次显出爱听不听的样子，人在跟前，而神游他方，怪里怪气的。尼科尔小的时候，她就觉得尼科尔我行我素，做事随随便便，现在更觉得尼科尔“不可救药”了。反正不管怎么说吧，她是不愿意在家里看到迪克这样的医生女婿的。

她只是要图个方便，想利用他一下而已。

岂不知她的请求却对迪克产生了影响，使他误以为她别有用心。坐火车返回是一段很糟糕的旅程——他心情沉重，同时又觉得有点滑稽，无异于在经历一次磨难。他觉得自己不是和尼科尔在一起，而是跟一个朋友胡乱选了个日子出来旅行，上午匆匆忙忙赶车，肚子饿了就吃几口东西垫补，时间长得难熬。下午，旅途渐渐接近终点，时间的进程仿佛也加快了。尼科尔一副郁郁寡欢的模样，让他看了心里难受。不过，这对她而言也许是一种解脱，因为她就要回到她唯一熟悉的家了。一路上，他们没有温存的话语，没有爱的举动，但二人走到苏黎世湖区，来到诊所的那扇凄凉的大门前时，她转过身望着他——这时他突然意识到她的问题已成了他们俩要终生共同面对的问题。