Florence, more agitated, paced her room; and paced the gallery outside; and looked out at the night, blurred and wavy with the raindrops on the glass, and the tears in her own eyes; and looked up at the hurry in the sky, so different from the repose below, and yet so tranquil and solitary. Three o'clock! There was a terror in every ash that dropped out of the fire. No Edith yet.
More and more agitated, Florence paced her room, and paced the gallery, and looked out at the moon with a new fancy of her likeness to a pale fugitive hurrying away and hiding her guilty face. Four struck! Five! No Edith yet.
But now there was some cautious stir in the house; and Florence found that Mrs Pipchin had been awakened by one of those who sat up, had risen and had gone down to her father's door. Stealing lower down the stairs, and observing what passed, she saw her father come out in his morning gown, and start when he was told his wife had not come home. He dispatched a messenger to the stables to inquire whether the coachman was there; and while the man was gone, dressed himself very hurriedly.
The man came back, in great haste, bringing the coachman with him, who said he had been at home and in bed, since ten o'clock. He had driven his mistress to her old house in Brook Street, where she had been met by Mr Carker -
Florence stood upon the very spot where she had seen him coming down. Again she shivered with the nameless terror of that sight, and had hardly steadiness enough to hear and understand what followed.
- Who had told him, the man went on to say, that his mistress would not want the carriage to go home in; and had dismissed him.
She saw her father turn white in the face, and heard him ask in a quick, trembling voice, for Mrs Dombey's maid. The whole house was roused; for she was there, in a moment, very pale too, and speaking incoherently.
She said she had dressed her mistress early - full two hours before she went out - and had been told, as she often was, that she would not be wanted at night. She had just come from her mistress's rooms, but -
'But what! what was it?' Florence heard her father demand like a madman.
'But the inner dressing-room was locked and the key gone.'
Her father seized a candle that was flaming on the ground - someone had put it down there, and forgotten it - and came running upstairs with such fury, that Florence, in her fear, had hardly time to fly before him. She heard him striking in the door, as she ran on, with her hands widely spread, and her hair streaming, and her face like a distracted person's, back to her own room.
When the door yielded, and he rushed in, what did he see there? No one knew. But thrown down in a costly mass upon the ground, was every ornament she had had, since she had been his wife; every dress she had worn; and everything she had possessed. This was the room in which he had seen, in yonder mirror, the proud face discard him. This was the room in which he had wondered, idly, how these things would look when he should see them next!
Heaping them back into the drawers, and locking them up in a rage of haste, he saw some papers on the table. The deed of settlement he had executed on their marriage, and a letter. He read that she was gone. He read that he was dishonoured. He read that she had fled, upon her shameful wedding-day, with the man whom he had chosen for her humiliation; and he tore out of the room, and out of the house, with a frantic idea of finding her yet, at the place to which she had been taken, and beating all trace of beauty out of the triumphant face with his bare hand.
Florence, not knowing what she did, put on a shawl and bonnet, in a dream of running through the streets until she found Edith, and then clasping her in her arms, to save and bring her back. But when she hurried out upon the staircase, and saw the frightened servants going up and down with lights, and whispering together, and falling away from her father as he passed down, she awoke to a sense of her own powerlessness; and hiding in one of the great rooms that had been made gorgeous for this, felt as if her heart would burst with grief.
Compassion for her father was the first distinct emotion that made head against the flood of sorrow which overwhelmed her. Her constant nature turned to him in his distress, as fervently and faithfully, as if, in his prosperity, he had been the embodiment of that idea which had gradually become so faint and dim. Although she did not know, otherwise than through the suggestions of a shapeless fear, the full extent of his calamity, he stood before her, wronged and deserted; and again her yearning love impelled her to his side.
He was not long away; for Florence was yet weeping in the great room and nourishing these thoughts, when she heard him come back. He ordered the servants to set about their ordinary occupations, and went into his own apartment, where he trod so heavily that she could hear him walking up and down from end to end.
Yielding at once to the impulse of her affection, timid at all other times, but bold in its truth to him in his adversity, and undaunted by past repulse, Florence, dressed as she was, hurried downstairs. As she set her light foot in the hall, he came out of his room. She hastened towards him unchecked, with her arms stretched out, and crying 'Oh dear, dear Papa!' as if she would have clasped him round the neck.
And so she would have done. But in his frenzy, he lifted up his cruel arm, and struck her, crosswise, with that heaviness, that she tottered on the marble floor; and as he dealt the blow, he told her what Edith was, and bade her follow her, since they had always been in league.
She did not sink down at his feet; she did not shut out the sight of him with her trembling hands; she did not weep; she did not utter one word of reproach. But she looked at him, and a cry of desolation issued from her heart. For as she looked, she saw him murdering that fond idea to which she had held in spite of him. She saw his cruelty, neglect, and hatred dominant above it, and stamping it down. She saw she had no father upon earth, and ran out, orphaned, from his house.
Ran out of his house. A moment, and her hand was on the lock, the cry was on her lips, his face was there, made paler by the yellow candles hastily put down and guttering away, and by the daylight coming in above the door. Another moment, and the close darkness of the shut-up house (forgotten to be opened, though it was long since day) yielded to the unexpected glare and freedom of the morning; and Florence, with her head bent down to hide her agony of tears, was in the streets.
时间没有减少董贝先生和他的妻子之间的障碍。搭配错了的两口子，不论是他们本人，还是他们彼此之间的关系，都是不幸的；把他们联结在一起的，除了束缚他们双手的手铐之外，没有别的东西，在他们想挣脱开的时候，链条被拉得紧紧的，擦伤和磨破了他们的骨头。时间这个苦恼的安慰者与愤怒的缓和者，对他们无能为力，无法给予任何帮助。他们的高傲不论在性质和对象方面多么不同，但在程度上却是相等的；在他们毫不相让的敌对状态中，他们的高傲就像燧石一样，在他们之间打出火花来；它随着不同情况，时而闷火慢燃，时而炽烈地燃烧，但全都把他们相互能接触到的一切东西焚毁无遗，使他们结婚的旅程成为一条撒满灰烬的道路。
让我们公正地对待他。他的生活的怪异的迷误，随着滴进沙漏①中去的每一粒沙子而扩展起来；在这种迷误中，他驱赶着她往前跑，很少想一下要驱赶到什么目的地去，或者她怎样去；然而他对她的感情却仍然跟最初的时候一样。在他看来，她的极大的缺点在于：她莫名其妙地拒绝承认他的重要地位，拒绝完全服从他；因此有必要纠正她，征服她；但是在别的方面，他仍然以他冷静的态度，把她看作是一位能对他的选择与名望增添光彩、一位能给她的所有主带来体面的夫人。
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①沙漏是古时一种计时的器具。
在她这方面呢，那天夜里她曾坐在自己的卧室中，注视着墙上的影子，一直坐到很快来临的深夜；从那天夜里起，她怀着激烈与高傲的怨恨，一天又一天，一小时又一小时，用阴沉的眼光注视着一个人影儿指挥着一群羞辱与愤怒化身的影子来反对她；这个人影儿仍然是她丈夫的。
无情地主宰着董贝先生的主要恶习是不是一种违反天性的特性？也许有时值得问一下：天性是什么？人们怎样设法去改变它？由于这种强行扭曲的结果，违反天性是不是不自然的？把我们伟大的大自然母亲的任何儿子或女儿关进狭窄的笼子里，强迫囚人接受一个思想，并用周围懦怯或奸诈的人们对它奴颜婢膝、顶礼膜拜的态度来培育这种思想，在这种情况下，有些甘心充当俘囚的人们，从来不曾凭借自由思想的翅膀（它很快就衰弱不振，毫无用处了）站起来看一看大自然的完备无缺的真实面貌；对于这些俘囚们，天性算是什么呢？
唉！在世界上，在我们四周，最违反天性、但却最自然的事难道还很少吗？让我们听一听行政长官或法官告诫那些被社会所摒弃的违反天性的人们吧！他们在野兽般的习惯方面违反天性，在缺乏端庄方面违反天性，在愚昧无知方面、在恶习方面、在轻率方面、在顽抗方面、在精神方面、在外貌方面、在一切方面都违反天性。可是让我们再跟随着善良的牧师或医生（他们每吸进一口空气，生命都遭受到危险），去到这些人们所居住的像野兽洞穴般狭小而肮脏的房屋里看看吧，我们马车车轮的辚辚声和人们踩过马路石头的脚步声每天都传到那里。让我们再看一看他们四周充满了可憎情景的世界吧——几百万不死的人们除了这个世界之外，在地面上没有其他的世界了——，只要稍稍提到它，就会激起人性的反感；住在邻近街道上的优美与高雅的仙女就会捂住耳朵，说：“我不相信这！”让我们呼吸呼吸那被各种不洁的物质所污染的空气吧，这些不洁的物质对健康与生命是有毒害的。让原本是为了快乐与幸福而授予我们人类的每一种感觉遭到凌辱、厌恶与唾弃吧；只有不幸与死亡才能进入我们感觉的通道。要想让栽培在发臭的苗圃中的任何简单的植物、花卉或药草，像上帝有意安排的那样，自然地生长起来，或迎着阳光，把它的小叶子伸展开来，这是徒劳的尝试。然而，当我们回想起某个身材发育不全、脸上神色邪恶的可怕的孩子的时候，让我们对他那违反天性的罪恶大发议论，哀叹他在这样早的年龄就远远地背离了天国吧，可是让我们也稍稍想一下，他是在地狱中被怀孕、出生与抚养大的啊！
那些研究自然科学并探索它们对人类健康产生影响的人们告诉我们：从污浊的空气中取得的有毒的微粒如果能够被眼睛看见的话，那么我们将看到它们像浓密的乌云一般悬浮在这些人们栖息场所的上面，然后逐渐蔓延开来，使一个城镇中较好的区域也受到毒害。伤风败德的品行是与这些有毒的微粒一起发生的，而且，在违反大自然的永恒的规律的支配下与它们是分不开的，可是如果这些伤风败德的品行也是可以看得清楚的话，那么那该是何等可怕的暴露啊！那样一来，我们就将会看到腐化堕落、不信上帝、酩酊大醉、偷窃、暗杀和一系列违反自然感情的无名的罪过和人类所嫌恶的事情在这些注定要遭殃的地方发生，并慢慢地扩散开来，去摧残那些无辜的人们，并在那些纯洁的人们中间传染病毒。那样一来，我们就将看到这些有毒的泉水怎样流进我们的医院和麻风病院，淹没监狱，并让运载罪犯的船只吃水深深地行驶，漂洋过海，使罪恶在广阔的大陆上猖獗为害。那时候，我们知道：我们产生的疾病已摧残了我们的孩子们，并遗传给还没有出生的今后的世世代代；那时候我们知道，由于同样的确凿的作用，我们养育了毫不纯洁天真的婴儿、不知谦逊与羞耻的青年、除了受苦与犯罪之外什么也不成熟的壮年人，以及成为人类形体耻辱的讨厌的老年人；当我们知道这些情况的时候，我们将会惊吓得毛骨悚然。违反天性的人类哟！当我们将从荆棘中采摘葡萄，从大蓟中采集无花果的时候，当谷物从我们荒淫的城市的小路的垃圾中生长出来，玫瑰在它们所喜爱的肥沃的教堂墓地上开花的时候，我们就可以寻找符合天性的人类，并发现他们就是从这些种子中生长出来的了。
啊，如果有什么善良的精灵用一只比故事中瘸腿的魔鬼①更有力更仁慈的手把屋顶掀开，向一个基督教徒指明，当他在他们中间走动时，什么样黑暗的形体会从他们的家里走出来，参加到毁坏天使的随从的队伍中去，那将会怎样啊！啊，如果仅仅在一夜的时间中看到这些苍白的鬼怪从那些我们忽视过久的地方走出来，从恶习与热病一起传播的浓密与阴沉的天空中走出来，把可怕的社会报应像雨一般永远不停地、愈来愈大地倾泻下来，那将会怎样啊！经过这样一夜之后出现的早晨将会是明亮与幸福的，因为人们将不再受他们自己所设置的绊脚石的障碍，这些绊脚石只不过是他们通向永恒的道路上的几粒尘埃罢了；那时候他们将像出于同一个根源、对同一个家庭的父亲负有同一个责任、并为一个共同的目的而努力的人们一样，专心致志地把这个世界建设成为一个更好的地方！
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①瘸腿的魔鬼：法国作家勒萨日（LeSage）的小说《瘸腿的魔鬼》中的魔鬼；他把屋顶掀开，看到了房屋中的各种罪恶。
这一天将是光明与幸福的，还因为对于那些从来不曾注意周围人类生活的世界的人们来说，这一天将唤醒他们认识到他们自己与它的关系；这一天将在他们面前展现出在他们自己偏狭的同情与估价中天性被扭曲的情形；这种扭曲一旦开始，在它的发展过程中，就会像降落到最低层的堕落一样显著，然而又同样自然。
可是这样一天的曙光始终没有照射到董贝先生和妻子身上；他们各走各的道路。
在他发生不幸事故之后的六个月中，他们之间的关系没有发生任何变化。大理石的岩石也不能比她更顽固地阻挡他的道路。岩洞深处丝毫照不到阳光的冰冷的泉水也不能比他更阴沉、更冷冰冰的了。
当建立一个新的家庭的前景开始出现的时候弗洛伦斯心中曾经升起的希望，现在已完全消失了。这个家庭建立已有近两年之久了，甚至连她耐性的期待也经受不住每天这种冷酷经验的摧残。如果说在她心中还存有一线希望：在某个遥远的将来伊迪丝跟她父亲有一天将会一起过着幸福的生活的话，那么她现在对她父亲有一天会爱她的希望是丝毫也没有了。有一段短短的时间，她曾以为她看到他变得宽厚起来了，但现在，她在对他在这前后冷淡态度的长久的记忆中，这段时间已被忘记了；即使记起来，也仅仅被看作是一个令人悲哀的错觉而已。
弗洛伦斯仍然爱他，但是渐渐地把他当作一个曾经是或可能是她的一个亲人去爱，而不是把他当作一个出现在她眼前的冷酷的人物去爱。他喜欢回忆小保罗或她母亲时所怀有的某种已经减轻了的悲哀现在似乎进入了她对他的思念之中，而且使这种思念成为仿佛是一种亲切的回忆。她说不出为什么她所爱的父亲对她已成为一种模糊不清的、像梦一般的概念——是不是因为他对她来说已经死去了，还是因为一方面他跟这些她过去所热爱的对象有关，另一方面她的现已消逝的希望以及她的遭到他冷酷对待的亲切感情与他长久地联系在一起的缘故。有时在她的想象中，她的弟弟仍然活着，而且已长成为一个男子汉，爱着她并保护着她；父亲这个模糊不清的概念跟她的现实生活实质上的联系几乎不超过她想象中的这个已长成为男子汉的弟弟。
她的这个变化（如果这可以称为变化的话）是不知不觉地发生的，就像她从童年转变为一个成年的女性一样，而且是与这个转变同时发生的。当弗洛伦斯在孤独的沉思中意识到这些思想时，她差不多已十七岁了。
现在她时常是孤身一人，因为她跟她妈妈先前的联系发生了很大的变化。当她父亲遭遇不幸事故、躺在楼下自己房间里的时候，弗洛伦斯第一次注意到，伊迪丝回避她。她在感情上受到了创伤，在心中受到震惊，又不明白这怎么能和她们每次相遇时伊迪丝那亲切的感情调和呢，于是她又一次在夜间走进伊迪丝的房间。
“妈妈，”弗洛伦斯悄悄地走近她的身旁，说道，“我得罪您了吗？”
伊迪丝回答道，“没有。”
“我一定做错什么事了，”弗洛伦斯说道，“请告诉我是什么吧。您对我的态度改变了，亲爱的妈妈。我说不出我是多么迅速地感觉到最细微的变化，因为我全心全意地爱您。”
“就像我爱你一样，”伊迪丝说道，“啊，弗洛伦斯，请相信我，我从没有比现在更强烈地爱你！”
“为什么您时常离开我、回避我呢？”弗洛伦斯问道，“为什么您有时那么奇怪地看着我呢，亲爱的妈妈？您是这样的，难道不是吗？”
伊迪丝用她的黑眼睛表示同意。
“为什么呢？”弗洛伦斯恳求地问道，“告诉我为什么，这样我好知道怎样更好地使您高兴。请跟我说，我们不应当再这样了。”
“我亲爱的弗洛伦斯，”伊迪丝回答道，一边紧紧地握着搂抱住她脖子的手，注视着那双十分亲热地注视着她的眼睛，这时弗洛伦斯跪在她的面前；“这是什么原因，我不能告诉你。这是我不应当说，也是你不应当听的。可是我知道；但事实就是这样，而且必须是这样的，这点我知道。如果我不知道的话，难道我会这样对待你吗？”
“是不是我们必须相互疏远，妈妈？”弗洛伦斯像一个受了惊吓的人那样注视着她，问道。
伊迪丝无声地动了动嘴唇，作出一个说“是”的形状。
弗洛伦斯怀着更大的恐惧与惊异，望着她，直到流到脸上的泪水迷糊了她的眼睛，使她看不见伊迪丝为止。
“弗洛伦斯！我的命根子！”伊迪丝急忙说道，“请听我说。看到你这样悲伤，我受不了。冷静些。你看我是沉着冷静的，难道我做到这点是容易的吗？”
她说最后几个字的时候，又恢复了镇静的与态度，并立即补充道：
“不是完全疏远。只是部分地疏远。仅仅在表面上装装样子，弗洛伦斯，因为在我的内心，我对你仍旧和过去一样，而且将永远是这样。不过我这样做并不是为了我自己。”
“是为了我吗，妈妈？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“知道事实是怎么样的，这就够了，”伊迪丝停了一下，说道，“至于为什么这样做，这无关紧要。亲爱的弗洛伦斯，我们应当少来往一些，这样比较好——这是必要的——，必须是这样。我们相互间一直保持着的亲密无间的友谊必须断绝。”
“什么时候？”弗洛伦斯喊道，“啊妈妈，什么时候？”
“现在，”伊迪丝说道。
“今后永远这样吗？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“我没有说这一点，”伊迪丝回答道，“我不知道这一点。我也不说，我们的伴侣关系充其量只是不适宜、不正当的。不过我可以知道，这种伴侣关系不会有好处。我到这里所走过的道路是经过许多你将永远也不会走的小路的。我今后的道路——天知道通往哪里——我看不见它。”
她的消逝了，然后沉寂了；她坐在那里，看着弗洛伦斯，几乎要从弗洛伦斯身边退缩；在她眼光中流露出某种奇怪的恐惧与竭力回避的神色，弗洛伦斯以前有一次也曾注意到这同样的神色。接着她的全身和脸上顿时显露出与那一次同样阴郁的高傲与愤怒的激情，就像一架疯狂的竖琴的弦上忽然激烈地弹奏出愤怒的声调一样。可是随之而来的不是温柔或谦恭。她这一次没有低下头，没有哭，也没有说，她没有别的希望，她的一切希望都寄托在弗洛伦斯身上了。她高昂着头，仿佛她是美丽的美杜莎①一样，面对面地看着人，以便杀死他。是的，如果她掌握了这种魔力的话，她真会这样做的。
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①美杜莎（Medusa）：希腊神话中的蛇发女怪。
“妈妈，”弗洛伦斯忧虑地说道，“除了您对我所说的之外，您还发生了一种使我吃惊的变化。让我在您身边多待一会儿吧。”
“不，”伊迪丝说道，“不，最亲爱的。我现在最好是单独一个人，我最好避开你。别向我提任何问题，只请你相信：当我似乎对你三心二意，反复无常的时候，我不是出于本意，也不是为了我自己。请相信，虽然我们彼此比过去疏远，但我在内心里对你并没有改变。请原谅我把你的暗淡的家庭变得更加暗淡了——我很清楚，我是投射在你家的一个阴影。让我们永远别再谈论这一点吧。”
“妈妈，”弗洛伦斯哭泣道，“我们将不会分离吧？”
“我们这样做就正是为了使我们可以不分离，”伊迪丝说道，“别再问什么。走吧，弗洛伦斯！我的爱和悔恨伴随着你！”
她拥抱了她，然后放开让她走；当弗洛伦斯走出房间的时候，伊迪丝目送着这离开的人儿，仿佛她的善良的守护神已化为一个形象离开了她，把她留下，听凭高傲与愤怒的情绪支配；现在这两种激情占据了她，在她的前额上表露出来。
从这时候起，弗洛伦斯和她不再像以前一样经常待在一起。她们在好多天中很少见面，只有在用餐和董贝先生在场的时候除外。在这种场合，伊迪丝威严，坚定，沉默，一眼也不看她。当有卡克先生参加时（在董贝先生恢复健康期间及以后，这是时常有的情形），伊迪丝就比平时更避开她，对她更疏远冷淡。可是当她单独和弗洛伦斯相遇、旁边没有其他人的时候，她就像过去一样情深意切地拥抱她，虽然她那高傲的神色已不像过去一样变得那么温柔了。当她夜间从外面回来晚了的时候，她时常像过去一样，悄悄地摸着黑暗走进
Chapter 48
The Flight of Florence
In the wildness of her sorrow, shame, and terror, the forlorn girl hurried through the sunshine of a bright morning, as if it were the darkness of a winter night. Wringing her hands and weeping bitterly, insensible to everything but the deep wound in her breast, stunned by the loss of all she loved, left like the sole survivor on a lonely shore from the wreck of a great vessel, she fled without a thought, without a hope, without a purpose, but to fly somewhere anywhere.
The cheerful vista of the long street, burnished by the morning light, the sight of the blue sky and airy clouds, the vigorous freshness of the day, so flushed and rosy in its conquest of the night, awakened no responsive feelings in her so hurt bosom. Somewhere, anywhere, to hide her head! somewhere, anywhere, for refuge, never more to look upon the place from which she fled!
But there were people going to and fro; there were opening shops, and servants at the doors of houses; there was the rising clash and roar of the day's struggle. Florence saw surprise and curiosity in the faces flitting past her; saw long shadows coming back upon the pavement; and heard voices that were strange to her asking her where she went, and what the matter was; and though these frightened her the more at first, and made her hurry on the faster, they did her the good service of recalling her in some degree to herself, and reminding her of the necessity of greater composure.
Where to go? Still somewhere, anywhere! still going on; but where! She thought of the only other time she had been lost in the wild wilderness of London - though not lost as now - and went that way. To the home of Walter's Uncle.
Checking her sobs, and drying her swollen eyes, and endeavouring to calm the agitation of her manner, so as to avoid attracting notice, Florence, resolving to keep to the more quiet streets as long as she could, was going on more quietly herself, when a familiar little shadow darted past upon the sunny pavement, stopped short, wheeled about, came close to her, made off again, bounded round and round her, and Diogenes, panting for breath, and yet making the street ring with his glad bark, was at her feet.
'Oh, Di! oh, dear, true, faithful Di, how did you come here? How could I ever leave you, Di, who would never leave me?'
Florence bent down on the pavement, and laid his rough, old, loving, foolish head against her breast, and they got up together, and went on together; Di more off the ground than on it, endeavouring to kiss his mistress flying, tumbling over and getting up again without the least concern, dashing at big dogs in a jocose defiance of his species, terrifying with touches of his nose young housemaids who were cleaning doorsteps, and continually stopping, in the midst of a thousand extravagances, to look back at Florence, and bark until all the dogs within hearing answered, and all the dogs who could come out, came out to stare at him.
