Pictures

Eight o'clock in the morning. Miss Ada Moss lay in her narrow bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her room, which was right at the top of a tall house in Bloomsbury, smelled of wet clothes and face powder and the bag of fried potatoes she had brought in for supper the night before.

Oh dear,' thought Miss Moss. 'I am cold. I wonder why I always wake up so cold in the mornings now. My knees and feet and my back—especially my back—are like ice. And I was always so warm in the old days. It isn't because I'm thin. I'm just as well-covered as I always was. No, it's because I don't have a good hot dinner in the evenings.'

She imagined a row of good hot dinners passing across the ceiling, each with a bottle of good strong beer.

I'd like to get up now,' she thought, 'and have a big sensible breakfast.' Pictures of big sensible breakfasts followed the good hot dinners across the ceiling. Miss Moss pulled the blanket up over her head and closed her eyes. Suddenly, her landlady burst into the room.

There's a letter for you, Miss Moss.'

Oh,' said Miss Moss, in a voice which was much too friendly, 'thank you very much, Mrs Pine. It's very good of you to bring me my letters.'

Oh, it's nothing,' said the landlady. 'I hope it's the letter that you've been waiting for.'

Yes,' said Miss Moss brightly, 'yes, perhaps it is. I wouldn't be surprised.'

Well, I'd be very surprised,' said the landlady. 'That's the truth. And can you open it right now, please? A lot of landladies wouldn't even ask—they'd just open it themselves. Things can't go on like this, Miss Moss, indeed they can't. First you tell me you've got the money to pay your rent, then you say you haven't, then there's a letter lost in the post or a theatre manager who's gone to Brighton but will be coming back soon—I'm sick and tired of it all, and I've had enough. At a time like this, too, with the price of everything sky-high and my poor boy away at the war in France! If you can't pay your rent, there's plenty of other people who would give me good money for a room like this. As my sister Eliza was saying to me only yesterday, Miss Moss, I've been much too soft-hearted with you!'

Miss Moss did not seem to be listening to this. She tore open the letter. It was from a film company.

No suitable parts for a lady of your experience at present,' she read.

She stared at it for a long time before she spoke to her landlady.

Well, Mrs Pine,' she said. 'I think you'll be sorry for what you've just said. This is from a theatre manager who wants to see me immediately about a part in a new musical show.'

But the landlady was too quick for her. She tore the letter out of Miss Moss's hand.

Oh is it, is it indeed!' she cried.

Give me back that letter. Give it back to me at once, you bad, wicked woman,' cried Miss Moss. She could not get out of bed because she had a hole in her nightdress.

Well, Miss Moss,' said the landlady, 'if I don't get my money by eight o'clock tonight, you can get out of my house, my lady.'

The door banged and Miss Moss was alone. She threw back the bedclothes, and sat on the side of the bed, shaking with anger and staring at her fat white legs. 'The old cat,' she said, 'the rotten old cat!' Then she began to pull on her clothes.

Oh, I wish I could pay that woman! Then I'd tell her what I think of her!' She suddenly saw her face in the mirror, and gave herself a little smile.

Well, old girl,' she said, 'you're in trouble this time, and no mistake.' But the person in the mirror stopped smiling.

You silly thing,' said Miss Moss. 'It's no good crying. You'll make your nose all red. Come on! Get dressed, and go out and find a job. That's what you've got to do.'

She picked up her bag and shook it. A few small coins fell out.

I'll have a nice cup of tea at an ABC café before I go anywhere,' she decided. 'I've got enough money for that.'

Ten minutes later, a large lady in a blue dress and a black hat covered in purple flowers looked at herself in the mirror, and sang:

Sweetheart, remember that hope never dies

And it al—ways is dark—est before sunrise.'

But the person in the mirror wouldn't smile at her, and Miss Moss went out.

When she came to the ABC café, the door was open. A man was carrying boxes of bread in, and two waitresses were combing their hair and talking.

My young man came home from France last night,' one of the girls sang happily.

Oh, I say! How topping for you!' cried the other.

Yes, wasn't it! He brought me a sweet little brooch. Look, it's got "Dieppe" written on it.'

Oh, I say! How topping for you!'

The man with the boxes of bread came in again, almost knocking Miss Moss over.

Can I have a cup of tea, please?' she asked.

But the waitress went on combing her hair. 'Oh,' she sang, 'we're not open yet.' She turned to the other girl. 'Are we, dear?'

Oh, no,' said the other waitress.

Miss Moss went out. 'I'll go to Charing Cross,' she decided. 'That's what I'll do. And I'll have coffee, not tea. Coffee's more filling. Those girls! Her young man came home; he brought her a brooch...' She began to cross the road.

Look out, Fatty!' shouted a taxi-driver. Miss Moss pretended not to hear.

No, I won't go to Charing Cross,' she decided. 'I'll go straight to Kig and Kadgit. They open at nine. If I get there early, Mr Kadgit may have something for me... "I'm so glad to see you, Miss Moss. I've just heard from a manager who wants a lady... exactly the right part for you... three pounds a week... go and see him immediately. It's lucky you came so early."'

But there was nobody at Kig and Kadgit except an old woman washing the floor in the passage.

Nobody here yet, Miss,' the old woman said.

Oh, isn't Mr Kadgit here?' said Miss Moss. 'I'll sit down and wait for him, if I may.'

You can't wait in the waiting-room, Miss. I haven't cleaned it yet. Mr Kadgit never comes in before eleven-thirty on a Saturday. Sometimes he doesn't come in at all.'

How silly of me,' said Miss Moss. 'I forgot it was Saturday.'

Mind your feet, please, Miss,' said the old woman. And Miss Moss was out in the street again.

The nice thing about Beit and Bithem was—it was always crowded. You walked into the waiting-room and you met everybody you knew. The early ones sat on chairs, and the later ones sat on the early ones' knees, while the men stood around the walls, talking and joking with the ladies.

Hello,' said Miss Moss, in her friendly way. 'Here we are again!'

And young Mr Clayton did a couple of dance-steps and sang: 'Waiting for the Robert E. Lee!'

Mr Bithem here yet?' asked Miss Moss, powdering her nose.

Oh, yes, dear!' cried all the girls together. 'He's been here for ages. We've been waiting for more than an hour!'

Oh dear,' said Miss Moss. 'Any work for us, do you think?'

Oh, a few jobs in Africa,' said young Mr Clayton. 'A hundred and fifty a week for two years, you know.'

Oh!' cried the girls. 'Isn't he a scream? Isn't he too funny?'

A dark girl with a sad face touched Miss Moss on the arm. 'I just missed a lovely job yesterday,' she said. 'Six weeks on tour, and then the West End. The manager said I would have got it if I'd been a bit stronger-looking. He said the part was made for me—only I'm too thin.' She stared at Miss Moss, and the dirty, dark red rose on her hat looked as sad and disappointed as she was.

Oh, dear, that was awfully bad luck,' Miss Moss said, trying hard not to sound too interested. 'What was the show called, may I ask?'

But the sad, dark girl understood what Miss Moss wanted, and a mean look came into her heavy eyes.

Oh, it wasn't a part for you, my dear,' she said. 'He wanted someone young, you know, a dark Spanish type like me. I was too thin, that was the only problem.'

The door opened and Mr Bithem appeared. He kept one hand on the door, and held up the other for silence.

Look here, ladies' —and here he paused and gave them his famous smile—'and all you boys.' They all laughed loudly at that. 'I've got nothing for you this morning. Come back on.Monday. I'm expecting several phone calls on Monday.'

Miss Moss pushed desperately through the crowd. 'Mr Bithem, I wonder if you've had any news from...'

Now, let me see,' said Mr Bithem slowly, staring at her. He had seen Miss Moss four times a week for—how many weeks was it? 'Now, who are you?'

Miss Ada Moss.'

Oh yes, yes; of course, my dear. Not yet, my dear. Now I had a call for twenty-eight ladies today, but they had to be young and able to kick their legs up a bit. Come back the week after next—there'll be nothing before that.'

He gave her a big smile, all for herself, and touched her lightly on her fat arm before disappearing back into his office.

At the North-East Film Company they were waiting on the stairs. Miss Moss stood and waited next to a fair little baby-girl of about thirty, in a white hat with fruit all round it.

What a crowd!' Miss Moss said. 'Is something special happening today?'

Didn't you know, dear?' said the baby, opening her huge, pale eyes. 'There was a call at nine-thirty for pretty girls. We've all been waiting for hours. Have you worked for this company before?'

No, I don't think I have,' said Miss Moss.

They're a lovely company,' said the baby. 'A friend of mine has a friend who gets thirty pounds a day... Have you been in many films?'

Well, I'm not really an actress,' said Miss Moss. 'I'm a trained singer. But things have been so bad lately that I've been doing a little acting.'

It's like that, isn't it, dear?' said the baby.

I had an excellent education at the College of Music,' said Miss Moss. 'I've often sung in West End shows. But I thought, for a change...'

Yes, it's like that, isn't it, dear?' said the baby.

At that moment a beautiful secretary appeared at the top of the stairs.

Are you all waiting for news from the North-East Film Company?'

Yes!' they all cried.

Well, it's been cancelled. I've just had a phone call.'

And I really needed that money,' a disappointed voice said.

The secretary had to laugh. 'Oh, there was no money in it,' she said. 'The North-East never pay their crowd people.'

There was only a little round window at the Bitter Orange Company. No waiting-room, nobody at all except a girl who came to the window and said, 'Well?'

Can I see the manager, please?' Miss Moss said pleasantly.

The girl closed her eyes for a moment. Miss Moss smiled at her. The girl did not smile back. She frowned. She seemed to smell something unpleasant. Suddenly, she picked up a piece of paper and pushed it through the window at Miss Moss.

Fill in this form!' she said, and banged the window shut.

Can you ride a horse—drive a car—dive—fly a plane—shoot?' Miss Moss read. She walked along the street, asking herself those questions. A rough, cold wind was blowing. It pulled at her clothes, hit her in the back and then laughed cruelly in her face. It knew that she could not answer the questions.

In the Square Garden, she found a rubbish basket, and dropped the form in it. Then she sat down on a bench and took out a little mirror to powder her nose. But the person in the mirror made an ugly face at her, and Miss Moss had to cry. She cried for a long time; it cheered her up wonderfully.

Well, that's over,' she said. 'It's nice to be able to sit on this bench and rest my feet for a bit. And my nose will soon stop being red. Look at the birds! How close they come. I suppose someone feeds them. No, I've got nothing for you...' She looked past them. What was that big building—the Café de Madrid? Oh, look at that poor child! Down he went with such a crash. Never mind! Up again!... If I don't get my money by eight o'clock tonight... Café de Madrid. 'I could just go in and sit there and have a coffee, that's all,' thought Miss Moss. 'Lots of artists go there, too. I might be lucky... A dark handsome gentleman comes in with a friend, and sits at my table, perhaps... "No, Julian, I've searched London for a singer who can take the part, and I just can't find the right person. You see, the music is difficult; have a look at it."' And Miss Moss heard herself saying: 'Excuse me, but I happen to be a singer, and I have sung that part many times... "Extraordinary! Come back to my studio and I'll try your voice now. "... Ten pounds a week... Why should I feel frightened? It's not fear. Why shouldn't I go to the Café de Madrid? I'm an honest woman—I'm a professional singer. And I'm only trembling because I've had nothing to eat today... "You can get out of my house, my lady." ... Very well, Mrs Pine. Café de Madrid. They have music there in the evenings... "Why don't they begin?" The singer has not arrived... "Excuse me, I happen to be a singer; I have sung that music many times."'

It was almost dark in the café. Men, tall potted plants, red seats, white stone tables, waiters in black jackets. Miss Moss walked past them all and sat down.

Almost immediately, a very large gentleman wearing a very small hat came and sat opposite her.

Good evening!' he said.

Miss Moss said, in her cheerful way: 'Good evening!'

Fine evening,' said the large gentleman.

Yes, very fine. Lovely, isn't it?' she said.

He waved a finger at a waiter. 'Bring me a large whisky.' Then he turned to Miss Moss. 'What's yours?'

Well, I think I'll take a brandy, thank you very much.'

Five minutes later he turned to Miss Moss and blew a cloud of cigar smoke in her face.

Like the hat,' he said, looking at the purple flowers.

Miss Moss blushed a deep pink and her heart began to beat very fast.

I've always worn a lot of purple,' she said.

The large gentleman looked at her for a long time, tap ping with his fingers on the table.

I like a woman with a bit of meat on her bones,' he said.

Miss Moss, to her surprise, laughed quite loudly.

Five minutes later the large gentleman stood up.

Well, am I coming to your place, or are you coming to mine?' he asked.

I'll come with you, if you don't mind,' said Miss Moss, and she followed him out of the café.

be sick and tired of have had enough of sb./sth./ doing sth.; be impatient or bored with sb./sth./ doing sth. 对某人（某事或做某事）不耐烦或感到厌烦。

part n. role played by an actor in a play, film, etc. （戏剧、电影等中的）人物，角色。

cat n. malicious woman. 狠毒的女人。

rotten adj. morally corrupt. 道德败坏的；腐化的。

in trouble in a situation that involves danger, punishment, pain, worry, etc. 在危险、受罚、痛苦、忧虑等的处境中。

purple adj. having the colour of red and blue mixed together. 紫色的。

I say. used to express surprise, shock, etc. or (unstressed) to start a conversation. 用以表示惊讶、震惊等；（不重读时）用以引起话题。

knock sb./sth. over upset sb./sth. by striking him/it. 撞倒。

hear from receive news from (sb.), usu. by letter. 得到（某人的）消息（常指接到某人的信）。

scream n. person or thing that causes laughter. 令人大笑的人或事物。

tour n. official series of visits for the purpose of playing matches, giving performances, etc. 巡回比赛、演出等。

the West End the area of London that includes most theatres, fashionable and expensive shops, etc. 伦敦西区（伦敦多数剧院、时髦及豪华商店等的所在地）。

heavy adj. marked by or exhibiting weariness. 昏昏欲睡的，显得疲倦的。

next to in or into a position immediately to one side of (sb./sth.); beside. 在……的旁边。

fill in complete, supply information as on a form. 填写。

crash n. fall or strike (sth.) suddenly and noisily. 突然倒下；撞击（某物）发出声响。

professional adj. showing or using the qualities of training of a member of a profession. 专业的。

电影

早上8点钟。埃达·莫斯小姐躺在她窄窄的床上，两眼直盯着天花板。她的房间正好位于布卢姆斯伯里区一幢高楼的最顶层，房间里混杂着湿衣服、香粉和炸土豆的味道，那包炸土豆是她昨晚带回来当晚饭的。

“噢，天啊，”莫斯小姐思忖着，“我觉得好冷。我真不知道为什么这些日子早上醒来的时候，总觉得那么冷。我的膝盖、脚和背——尤其是背——冷得像冰块一样。我从前可总是暖暖和和的。这并不是因为我瘦的缘故，而且我盖的被子也和以前一样多。不，这准是因为我晚上总吃不上可口的热乎乎的晚餐。”

她想像着一盘盘可口的热乎乎的晚餐排着队从天花板上穿过，每样晚餐还配有一瓶上等的烈性啤酒。

“我想现在起床，”她想，“去吃一顿丰盛的早餐。”天花板上那可口的热乎乎的晚餐上过去之后，随之而来的是丰盛的早餐。莫斯小姐拉起毯子蒙在头上，闭上了眼睛。突然，房东太太闯了进来。

“有你一封信，莫斯小姐。”

“噢，”莫斯小姐用一种过于友好的声调说，“太感谢您了，派因太太。您帮我拿信，真是太好了。”

“噢，这没什么，”房东太太说，“我希望这是你一直在等的那封信。”

“对，”莫斯小姐欢快地说，“对，可能是的。我不觉得意外。”

“嗯，可我觉得很意外，”房东太太说，“我说的是真话。能不能请你现在就把信拆开？许多房东甚至问都不问——就自己拆开看了。不能再这样拖下去了，莫斯小姐，确实不能再这样了。你先是说你有钱付房租了，后来又说你没钱，然后又是信被邮局搞丢了，再有就是剧院经理去布赖顿了，但很快就能回来——我对这些都听腻了，简直受够了。眼下这年头，所有东西的价钱都高上了天，我那可怜的孩子又远在法国打仗！要是你付不起房租，有的是人愿意出高价租这间房子。我姐姐伊莱扎昨天还跟我说来着。莫斯小姐，我对你可真够仁慈的了！”

莫斯小姐好像没听到这些。她把信拆开。信是一家电影公司寄来的。

“我们现在没有适合您这种经历的女士扮演的角色。”她看着信。

她盯着信看了很久才和房东太太说话。

“嗯，派因太太，”她说，“我想你会为你刚才说过的话后悔的。这封信是一位剧院经理写来的，他想马上见我，跟我谈谈有关一部新音乐剧中的角色的事。”

但是房东太太手疾眼快，从莫斯小姐手里一把扯过信来。

“噢，是吗，真是这样吗！”她叫道。

“把信还给我，马上把信还给我，你这个不要脸的坏女人。”莫斯小姐叫了起来。她下不了床，因为她的睡衣上破了个洞。

“好吧，莫斯小姐，”房东太太说，“到今晚8点钟时，要是我还拿不到钱的话，你就从我的房子里滚出去，我的小姐。”

门“砰”地一声关上了，房间里只剩下莫斯小姐一人。她一把掀开被子，坐在床边，气得浑身发抖，两眼盯着自己白胖的腿。“老恶妇，”她说，“不要脸的老恶妇！”然后她开始穿衣服。

“噢，要是我有钱付给那个女人该多好！然后我就告诉她她在我心目中是个什么样子！”她突然在镜子里看到自己的脸，然后冲着自己微微一笑。

“嗯，老姑娘，”她说，“这次你可有麻烦了，绝对没错。”镜子中的那个人已经不再笑了。

“你这个傻东西，”莫斯小姐说，“哭有什么用，只会把你的鼻子弄得通红。来吧！穿好衣服，出去找工作。这才是你应该做的。”

她拿起背包晃了晃，从包里掉出了几枚小硬币。

“不管去哪儿，我得先到ABC咖啡馆好好喝上一杯茶，”她打定主意，“我的钱足够喝茶了。”

十分钟后，只见一位身穿蓝裙子，头戴黑底紫花帽子的胖女人边照镜子边唱歌：

“希望永远不会破灭哟

我的爱人你要记在心

太阳升起前哟

总是最黑暗的时分。”

可是镜子里的人不再冲她微笑了。莫斯小姐走了出去。

当她走到ABC咖啡馆的时候，店门已经开了。一个男人正在往咖啡馆里搬一箱箱的面包，两个女招待边梳头边聊天。

“我男人昨晚从法国回来了。”其中一个女招待高兴地说道。

“噢，真的吗！瞧把你高兴的！”另一个大声说。

“是啊，谁说不是呢！他给我带了个漂亮的小胸针。你看，上面还写着‘迪耶普’三个字呢。”

“噢，真的吗！真把你美死了！”

那个搬面包箱的男人又进来了，差点儿把莫斯小姐撞倒。

“请给我来杯茶好吗？”她问道。

但那个女招待继续梳着头。“哦，”她唱歌似地说，“我们还没开门呢。”她转身对另一个女招待说：“开门了吗，亲爱的？”

“哦，还没开呢。”另一个女招待说。

莫斯小姐走了出去。“我去‘查理十字街’吧，”她拿定主意，“就到那儿去。我要喝咖啡，不喝茶了。咖啡更能填饱肚子。这些姑娘！她男人回家了；还给她带回一个胸针……”她准备过马路。

“当心，肥婆！”一个出租车司机大声叫道。莫斯小姐装作没听见。

“不，我不去‘查理十字街’了，”她又有了一个决定，“我直接去‘基格和卡德吉特’吧。那儿9点钟开门。要是我去得早，卡德吉特先生可能会有消息告诉我……‘莫斯小姐，很高兴见到你。我刚从一位经理那里听说，他需要一位女士……这个角色挺适合你的……一周三英镑……赶快去找他吧。你来得早，算你运气。’”

但在“基格和卡德吉特”里，除了一位在过道擦地板的老妇人外，一个人都没有。

“这儿还没来人呢，小姐。”老妇人说。

“哦，卡德吉特先生不在吗？”莫斯小姐问，“如果可以的话，我坐下来等他。”

“你不能在等候室等，小姐。那儿我还没有打扫干净呢。每逢星期六，不到11点半卡德吉特先生是不会来的，有时干脆一整天都不来。”

“我多傻呀，”莫斯小姐说，“我忘了今天是星期六了。”

“请留心您的脚，小姐。”老妇人说。莫斯小姐又来到了大街上。

“拜特和比瑟姆”这个地方的好处在于——这儿总是挤满了人。走进等候室，你碰到的每一个人都是你认识的。早来的人坐在椅子上，晚来的人坐在早来的人的膝盖上，男人们靠墙边站着，跟女人聊天、开玩笑。

“你好，”莫斯小姐友好地说，“我们又见面了！”

年轻的克莱顿先生走了几个舞步，唱道：“在等罗伯特·E．李！”

“比瑟姆先生来了吗？”莫斯小姐边问边往鼻子上扑粉。

“哦，来了，亲爱的！”所有的姑娘们一块儿喊道，“他已经来了很久了，我们都等了一个多小时了！”

“哦，天啊，”莫斯小姐问，“你们觉得我们会有事做吗？”

“哦，有几个去非洲的差事，”年轻的克莱顿先生说，“要知道，去上两年，每星期能挣150英镑。”

“噢！”姑娘们叫道，“他可真滑稽，真有趣！”

一位皮肤黑黑的、哭丧着脸的姑娘碰了碰莫斯小姐的胳膊。“我昨天错过了一个好差事，”她说，“先巡回演出六周，然后再去伦敦西区。经理说我要是看起来再强壮点儿，就能得到这份工作了。他说这个角色挺适合我的——只是我太瘦了。”她盯着莫斯小姐，她帽子上那朵肮脏的、暗红色的玫瑰看起来跟她本人一样忧伤、失望。

“哦，亲爱的，真是太倒霉了，”莫斯小姐尽量使自己的声音听起来漫不经心，“我可不可以问问那个剧叫什么名字？”

那个哭丧着脸、黑皮肤的姑娘一下看破了莫斯小姐的心思，她那双疲倦的眼睛里闪现出一丝恶意。

“哦，那个角色不适合你，亲爱的，”她说，“你知道，人家要的是年轻姑娘，像我这样黑黑的，西班牙风格的。我太瘦弱了，这是惟一的问题。”

门开了，比瑟姆先生出现了。他一只手扶着门，举起另一只手示意大家安静。

“注意了，女士们”——说到这儿他停了一下，露出他广为人知的笑容——“还有你们这些小伙子们。”等候室里的人哄堂大笑起来。“今天早上是没什么指望了，星期一再来吧，我想星期一会来几个电话。”

莫斯小姐在人群中不顾一切地朝前挤。“比瑟姆先生，我想知道你有没有什么消息……”

“嗯，让我想想。”比瑟姆先生慢吞吞地说，两眼盯着她看。他每周看见莫斯小姐四次——已经连续多少个星期了呢？“你是谁？”

“埃达·莫斯小姐。”

“哦，对，对；是的，亲爱的。还没有消息，亲爱的。今天我接到个电话，要招28个女的，可人家要年轻的，还要能跳几下舞的。下下周再来吧——这之前不会有什么了。”

他冲莫斯小姐咧嘴笑笑，轻轻地拍了拍她那肥胖的胳膊后才走进办公室，不见了踪影。

在东北电影公司里，人们都在楼梯上等候。莫斯小姐站在那儿等着，旁边是一位30岁左右长着漂亮娃娃脸的女人，她戴着顶白帽子，帽子四周点缀着水果。

“人真多呀！”莫斯小姐说，“今天有什么特别的事吗？”

“你还不知道吗，亲爱的？”那娃娃脸睁着大而无神的眼睛说，“9点半时来了个电话，要招漂亮姑娘。我们都在这儿等了几个钟头了。你以前在这家公司干过吗？”

“没有，我想我没在这儿干过。”莫斯小姐说。

“这家公司还不错，”娃娃脸说，“我一个朋友的朋友在这儿一天挣30英镑……你拍过很多部电影吗？”

“嗯，我不能算是真正的演员，”莫斯小姐说，“我是个受过训练的歌手。但最近情况实在是糟透了，我也只得演点儿戏。”

“像是那么回事，对吧，亲爱的？”娃娃脸说。

“我在音乐学院接受过良好的教育，”莫斯小姐说，“我经常在伦敦西区的演出中唱歌。但是我想换换行当……”

“是的，像是那么回事，对吧，亲爱的？”娃娃脸说。

就在那时，一位漂亮的秘书出现在楼梯顶上。

“你们都在等东北电影公司的消息吗？”

“对！”大家齐声大叫。

“哦，已经取消了。我刚接到一个电话。”

“可我确实需要那笔钱。”一个失望的声音说。

秘书不禁笑了起来。“哦，那儿根本就没钱，”她说，“‘东北’从来不付钱给群众演员。”

苦橘电影公司对外只有一个小小的圆窗户。这里没有等候室，除了一个姑娘以外，一个人都没有。这个姑娘走近窗口问道：“什么事？”

“请问我能见见经理吗？”莫斯小姐和气地问。

那姑娘闭了会儿眼睛。莫斯小姐朝她微笑，可那姑娘并不理睬。她皱起眉头，好像是闻到了什么难闻的气味。突然，她拿起一张纸，从窗口塞给莫斯小姐。

“填张表！”她说着，“砰”地关上了窗户。

“你会骑马——开车——跳水——开飞机——射击吗？”莫斯小姐念道。她边沿着街道往前走，边问着自己这些问题。猛烈的冷风刮着，扯着她的衣服，击打着她的后背，在她面前无情地嘲弄着她。这风也知道她无法回答这些问题。

在广场花园，她看到个垃圾筐，就把表格扔了进去。然后她在一张长凳上坐下，拿出一面小镜子，往鼻子上扑粉。但是镜子里的人冲她扮了个难看的鬼脸，她不禁哭了起来。她哭了很久；哭过之后又振奋起来。

“好了，都过去了，”她说，“能坐在长凳上让我的脚稍微休息休息还是挺舒服的。我的鼻子很快就会不红了。看看这些小鸟！它们离得好近呀。我想一定有人喂它们。不，我可没东西喂你们……”她的目光离开了这些小鸟。那是一座什么大楼呢——马德里咖啡馆吗？噢，瞧那可怜的孩子！他扑通一声摔倒了。不要紧！他又站起来了！……到今晚8点钟时，要是我还拿不到钱的话……马德里咖啡馆。“我不妨进去坐一坐，喝杯咖啡，就这样。”莫斯小姐寻思着，“许多艺术家也光顾那里。也许我的运气不错……一位皮肤黑黑的英俊绅士带着个朋友进来，和我同坐一桌，也许……‘不，朱利安，我想找个能唱这个角色的歌手，可找遍了伦敦，也没发现合适的人。你知道，这曲子难度很大；你瞧。”’莫斯小姐仿佛听到自己在说：“打扰一下，我刚好就是一个歌手，那个角色我唱过好多回了……‘太棒了！到我的工作室去，我要马上给你试音。’……一周10英镑……我干吗这么害怕呀？别害怕。我为什么不能去马德里咖啡馆呢？我是个正派女人——我是个专业歌手。我只是有点儿打哆嗦，这是因为我今天还没吃东西……‘你就从我的房子里滚出去，我的小姐。’……等着瞧吧，派因太太。马德里咖啡馆。那里晚上都会有音乐节目……‘节目怎么还不开演？’歌手还没来呢……‘对不起，我正巧是个歌手，那首曲子我唱过好多回了。’”

咖啡馆里暗沉沉的。男人们、高大的盆栽植物、红椅子、白石桌、穿黑色上衣的侍者，莫斯小姐从他们中间穿过，找了个地方坐下。

她刚一坐下，一个头戴小帽子的大块头男士就在她对面坐了下来。

“晚上好！”他招呼道。

莫斯小姐愉快地回答：“晚上好！”

“真是个美妙的夜晚。”大块头男士说。

“是的，挺不错的。真是美极了，不是吗？”她说。

他挥动手指向侍者示意。“来一大杯威士忌。”他又转向莫斯小姐，“你要点儿什么？”

“嗯，我想要杯白兰地，多谢了。”

过了五分钟，他转向莫斯小姐，并把一大口雪茄烟喷在她脸上。

“我喜欢你的帽子。”他看着她帽子上的紫花说。

莫斯小姐羞红了脸，心跳开始加快。

“我向来爱穿紫色。”她说。

那个大块头男士的手指在桌上敲着，久久地打量着她。

“我喜欢身上有肉的女人。”他说。

令莫斯小姐自己都感到吃惊的是，她竟然大声笑了起来。

五分钟后，大块头男士站了起来。

“嗯，是我去你那儿呢，还是你到我这儿来？”他问道。

“如果你不介意的话，我跟你去。”莫斯小姐说着，跟着他走出了咖啡馆。