Awomanonaroof英语原文

A-woman-on-a-roof-英语原文Awomanonaroof Itwasduringtheweekofhotsun，thatJune.Threemenwereatworkontheroof，wheretheleadsgotsohottheyhadtheideaofthrowingwaterontocoolthem.Butthewatersteamed，thensizzled；andtheymakejokesaboutgettinganeggfromsomewomanintheflatsundertheflatsunderthem，topoachitfortheirdinner.Bytwoitwasnotpossibletotouchthegutteringtheywerereplacing，andtheyspeculatedaboutwhatworkmendidinregularlyhotcountries.Perhapstheyshouldborrowkitchengloveswiththeegg?Theywereallabitdizzy，notusedtotheheat；andtheyshedtheircoatsandstoodsidebysidesqueezingthemselvesintoafootwidepatchofshadeagainstachimney，carefultokeeptheirfeetinthethicksocksandbootsoutofthesun.Therewasafineviewacrossseveralacresofroofs.Notfaroffamansatinadeckchairreadingthenewspapers.Thentheysawher，betweenchimneys，aboutfiftyyardsaway.Shelayfacedownonabrownblanket.Theycouldseethetoppartofher：blackhair，aflushedsolidback，armsspreadout.“She’sstarknaked，”saidStanley，soundingannoyed.Harry，theoldest，amanofaboutforty-five，said：“Lookslikeit.”YoungTom，seventeen，saidnothing，buthewasexcitedandgrinning.Stanleysaid：“Someone’llreportherifshedoesn’twatchout.”“Shethinksnoonecansee，”saidTom，craninghisheadallwaystoseemore.Atthispointthewoman，stilllyingprone，broughthertwohandsupbehindhershoulderswiththeendsofascarfinthem，tieditbehindherback，andsatup.Sheworearedscarftiedaroundherbreastsandbriefredbikinipants.Thisbeingthefirstdayofthesunshewaswhite，flushingred.Shesatsmoking，anddidnotlookupwhenStanleyletoutawolfwhistle.Harrysaid：“Smallthingsamusesmallminds，”leadingthewaybacktotheirpartoftheroof，butitwasscorching.Harrysaid：“Wait，I’mgoingtorigupsomeshade，”anddisappeareddowntheskylightintothebuilding.Nowthathe’dgone，StanleyandTomwenttothefarthestpointtheycouldtopeeratthewoman.Shehadmoved，andalltheycouldseeweretwopinklegsstretchedontheblanket.Theywhistledandshoutedbutthelegsdidnotmove.Harrycamebackwithablanketandshouted：“Comeon，then.”Hesoundedirritatedwiththem.TheyclamberedbacktohimandhesaidtoStanley：“Whataboutyourmissus?”Stanleywasnewlymarried，aboutthreemonths.Stanleysaid，jeering：“Whataboutmymissus?”--preservinghisindependence.Tomsaidnothing，buthismindwasfullofthenearlynakedwoman.Harryslungtheblanket，whichhehadborrowedfromafriendlywomandownstairs，fromthestemofatelevisionaerialtoarowofchimney-pots.Thisshadefellacrossthepieceofguttertheyhadtoreplace.Buttheshadekeptmoving，theyhadtoadjusttheblanket，andnotmuchprogresswasmade.Atlastsomeoftheheatlefttheroof，andtheyworkedfast，makingupforlosttime.FirstStanley，thenTom，madeatriptotheendoftherooftoseethewoman.“She’sonherback，”Stanleysaid，addingajestwhichmadeTomsnicker，andtheoldermansmiletolerantly.Tom’sreportwasthatshehadn’tmoved，butitwasalie.Hewantedtokeepwhathehadseentohimself：hehadcaughtherintheactofrollingdownthelittleredpantsoverherhips，tilltheywerenomorethanasmalltriangle.Shewasonherback，fullyvisible，glisteningwithoil.Nextmorning，assoonastheycameup，theywenttolook.Shewasalreadythere，facedown，armsspreadout，nakedexceptforthelittleredpants.Shehadturnedbrowninthenight.Yesterdayshewasascarlet-and-whitewoman，todayshewasabrownwoman.Stanleyletoutawhistle.Sheliftedherhead，startled，asifshe’dbeenasleep，andlookedstraightoveratthem.Thesunwasinhereyes，sheblinkedandstared，thenshedroppedherheadagain.Atthisgestureofindifference，theyallthree，Stanley，TomandoldHarry，letoutwhistlesandyells.Harrywasdoingitinparodyoftheyoungermen，makingfunofthem，buthewasalsoangry.Theywereallangrybecauseofherutterindifferencetothethreemenwatchingher.“Bitch，”saidStanley.“Sheshouldaskusover，”saidTom，snickering.HarryrecoveredhimselfandremindedStanley：“Ifshe’smarried，heroldmanwouldn’tlikethat.”“Christ，”saidStanleyvirtuously，“ifmywifelayaboutlikethat，foreveryonetosee，I’dsoonstopher.”Harrysaid，smiling：“Howdoyouknow，perhapsshe’ssunningherselfatthisverymoment?”“Notachance，notonourroof.”ThesafetyofhiswifeputStanleyintoagoodhumor，andtheywenttowork.Buttodayitwashotterthanyesterday；andseveraltimesoneortheothersuggestedtheyshouldtellMatthew，theforeman，andasktoleavetheroofuntiltheheatwavewasover.Buttheydidn’t.Therewasworktobedoneinthebasementofthebigblockofflats，butupheretheyfeltfree，onadifferentlevelfromordinaryhumanityshutinthestreetsorthebuildings.Alotmorepeoplecameoutontotheroofsthatday，foranhouratmidday.Somemarriedcouplessatsidebysideindeckchairs，thewomen’slegsstockinglessandscarlet，themeninvestswithreddeningshoulders.Thewomanstayedonherblanket，turningherselfoverandover.Sheignoredthem，nomatterwhattheydid.WhenHarrywentofftofetchmorescrews，Stanleysaid：“Comeon.”Herroofbelongedtoadifferentsystemofroofs，separatedfromtheirsatonepointbyabouttwentyfeet.Itmeantascramblingclimbfromoneleveltoanother，edgingalongparapets，clingingtochimneys，whiletheirbigbootsslippedandheredslithered，butatlasttheystoodonasmallsquareprojectingrooflookingstraightdownather，close.Shesatsmoking，readingabook.Tomthoughtshelookedlikeaposter，oramagazinecover，withtheblueskybehindherandherlegsstretchedout.BehindheragreatcraneatworkonanewbuildinginOxfordStreetswungitsblackarmacrossroofsinagreatarc.Tomimaginedhimselfatworkonthecrane，adjustingthearmtoswingoverandpickherupandswingherbackacrosstheskytodrophernearhim.Theywhistled.Shelookedupatthem，coolandremote，thenwentonreading.Again，theywerefurious.Or，rather，Stanleywas.Hissun-heatedfacewasscrewedintoarageashewhistledagainandagain，tryingtomakeherlookup.YoungTomstoppedwhistling.HestoodbesideStanley，excited，grinning；buthefeltasifheweresayingtothewoman：Don’tassociatemewithhim，forhisgrinwasapologetic.Lastnighthehadthoughtoftheunknownwomanbeforeheslept，andshehadbeentenderwithhim.Thistendernesshewasrememberingasheshiftedhisfeetbythejeering，whistlingStanley，andwatchedtheindifferent，healthybrownwomanafewfeetoff，withthegapthatplungedtothestreetbetweenthem.Tomthoughtitwasromantic，itwaslikebeinghighontwohilltops.ButtherewasashoutfromHarry，andtheyclamberedback.Stanley’sfacewashard，reallyangry.Theboykeptlookingathimandwonderedwhyhehatedthewomansomuch，forbynowhelovedher.Theyplayedtheirlittlegameswiththeblanket，tryingtotrapshadetoworkunder；butagainitwasnotuntilnearlyfourthattheycouldworkseriously，andtheywereexhausted，allthreeofthem.Theyweregrumblingabouttheweatherbynow.Stanleywasinathoroughlybadhumor.Whentheymadetheirroutinetriptoseethewomanbeforetheypackedupfortheday，shewasapparentlyasleep，facedown，herbackallnakedsaveforthescarlettriangleonherbuttocks.“I’vegotagoodmindtoreporthertothepolice，”saidStanley，andHarrysaid：“What’seatingyou?Whatharm’sshedoing?”“Itellyou，ifshewasmywife!”“Butsheisn’t，isshe?”TomknewthatHarry，likehimself，wasuneasyatStanley’sreaction.Hewasnormallyasharpyoungman，quickathiswork，makingalotofjokes，goodcompany.“Perhapsitwillbecoolertomorrow，”saidHarry.“Butitwasn’t；itwashotter，ifanything，andtheweatherforecastsaidthegoodweatherwouldlast.Assoonastheywereontheroof，Harrywentovertoseeifthewomanwasthere，andTomknewitwastopreventStanleygoing，toputoffhisbadhumor.Harryhadgrownupchildren，aboythesameageasTom，andtheyouthtrustedandlookeduptohim.Harrycamebackandsaid：“She’snotthere.”“Ibetheroldmanhasputhisfootdown，”saidStanley，andHarryandTomcaughteachother’seyesandsmiledbehindtheyoungmarriedman’sback.Harrysuggestedtheyshouldgetpermissiontoworkinthebasement，andtheydid，thatday.ButbeforepackingupStanleysaid：“Let’shaveabreathoffreshair.”AgainHarryandTomsmiledateachotherastheyfollowedStanleyuptotheroof，TominthedevoutconvictionthathewastheretoprotectthewomanfromStanley.Itwasaboutfive-thirty，andacalm，fullsunlightlayovertheroofs.ThegreatcranestillswungitsblackarmfromOxfordStreettoabovetheirheads.Shewasnotthere.Thentherewasaflutterofwhitefrombehindaparapet，andshestoodup，inabelted，whitedressing-gown.Shehadbeenthereallday，probably，butonadifferentpatchofroof，tohidefromthem.Stanleydidnotwhistle；hesaidnothing，butwatchedthewomanbendtocollectpapers，books，cigarettes，thenfoldtheblanketoverherarm.Tomwasthinking：Iftheyweren’there，I’dgooverandsay...what?Butheknewfromhisnightlydreamsofherthatshewaskindandfriendly.Perhapsshewouldaskhimdowntoherflat?Perhaps...Hestoodwatchingherdisappeardowntheskylight.Asshewent，Stanleyletoutashrillderisiveyell；shestarted，anditseemedasifshenearlyfell.Sheclutchedtosaveherself，theycouldhearthingsfalling.Shelookedstraightatthem，angry.Harrysaid，facetiously：“Betterbecarefulonthoseslipperyladders，love.”TomknewhesaidittosaveherfromStanley，butshecouldnotknowit.Shevanished，frowning.Tomwasfullofasecretdelight，becauseheknewherangerwasfortheothers，notforhim.“Rollonsomerain，”saidStanley，bitter，lookingattheblueeveningsky.Nextdaywascloudless，andtheydecidedtofinishtheworkinthebasement.Theyfeltexcluded，shutinthegreycementbasementfittingpipes，fromtheholidayatmosphereofLondoninaheatwave.Atlunchtimetheycameupforsomeair，butwhilethemarriedcouples，andthemeninshirt-sleevesorvests，werethere，shewasnotthere，eitheronherusualpatchofrooforwhereshehadbeenyesterday.Theyall，evenHarry，clamberedabout，betweenchimney-pots，overparapets，thehotleadsstingingtheirfingers.Therewasnotasignofher.Theytookofftheirshirtsandvestsandexposedtheirchests，feelingtheirfeetsweatyandhot.Theydidnotmentionthewoman.ButTomfeltaloneagain.Lastnightshehadhimintoherflat：itwasbigandhadfittedwhitecarpetsandabedwithapaddedwhiteleatherhead-board.SheworeablackfilmynegligeeandherkindnesstoTomthickenedhisthroatasherememberedit.Hefeltshehadbetrayedhimbynotbeingthere.Andagainafterworktheyclimbedup，butstilltherewasnothingtobeseenofher.Stanleykeptrepeatingthatifitwasashotasthistomorrowhewasn’tgoingtoworkandthat’salltherewastoit.Buttheywerealltherenextday.Bytenthetemperaturewasinthemiddleseventies，anditwaseightylongbeforenoon.Harrywenttotheforemantosayitwasimpossibletoworkontheleadsinthatheat；buttheforemansaidtherewasnothingelsehecouldputthemon，andthey’dhaveto.Atmiddaytheystood，silent，watchingtheskylightonherroofopen，andthensheslowlyemergedinherwhitegown，holdingabundleofblanket.Shelookedatthem，gravely，thenwenttothepartoftheroofwhereshewashiddenfromthem.Tomwaspleased.Hefeltshewasmorehiswhentheothermencouldn’tseeher.Theyhadtakenofftheirshirtsandvests，butnowtheyputthembackagain，fortheyfeltthesunbruisingtheirflesh.“Shemusthavethehideofarhino,”saidStanley，tuggingatgutteringandswearing.Theystoppedwork，andsatintheshade，movingaroundbehindchimneystacks.Awomancametowaterayellowwindowboxoppositethem.Shewasmiddleaged，wearingafloweredsummerdress.Stanleysaidtoher：“Weneedadrinkmorethanthem.”Shesmiledandsaid：“Betterdropdowntothepubquick，it’llbeclosinginaminute.”Theyexchangedpleasantries，andsheleftthemwithasmileandawave.“NotlikeLadyGodiva，”saidStanley.”Shecangiveusabitofachatandasmile.”“Youdidn’twhistleather，”saidTom，reproving.“Listentohim，”saidStanley，“youdidn’twhistle，then?”Buttheboyfeltasifhehadn’twhistled，asifonlyHarryandStanleyhad.Hewasmakingplans，whenitwastimetoknockoffwork，togetleftbehindandsomehowmakehiswayovertothewoman.Theweatherreportsaidthehotspellwasduetobreak，sohehadtomovequickly.Buttherewasnochanceofbeingleft.Theothertwodecidedtoknockoffworkatfour，becausetheywereexhausted.Astheywentdown，Tomquicklyclimbedaparapetandhoistedhimselfhigherbypullinghisweightupachimney.Hecaughtaglimpseofherlyingonherback，herkneesup，eyesclosed，abrownwomanlollinginthesun.Heslippedandclattereddown，asStanleylookedforinformation：“She’sgonedown，”hesaid.HefeltasifhehadprotectedherfromStanley，andthatshemustbegratefultohim.Hecouldfeelthebondbetweenthewomanandhimself.Nextday，theystoodaroundonthelandingbelowtheroof，reluctanttoclimbupintotheheat.ThewomanwhohadlentHarrytheblanketcameoutandofferedthemacupoftea.Theyacceptedgratefully，andsataroundMrs.Pritchett’skitchenanhourorso，chatting.Shewasmarriedtoanairlinepilot.Asmartblonde，ofaboutthirty，shehadaneyeforthehandsomesharp-facedStanley；andthetwoteasedeachotherwhileHarrysatinacorner，watching，indulgent，thoughhisexpressionremindedStanleythathewasmarried.AndyoungTomfeltenviousofStanley’seaseinbadinage；felt，too，thatStanley’sgettingoffwithMrs.Pritchettlefthisromancewiththewomanontheroofsafeandintact.“Ithoughttheysaidtheheatwave’dbreak，”saidStanley，sullen，asthetimeapproachedwhentheyreallywouldhavetoclimbupintothesunlight.“Youdon’tlikeit，then?”askedMrs.Pritchett.“Allrightforsome，”saidStanley.“Nothingtodobutlieaboutasifitwasabeachupthere.Doyouevergoup?”“Wentuponce，”saidMrs.Pritchett.“Butit’sadirtyplaceupthere，andit’stoohot.”“Quiterighttoo，”saidStanley.Thentheywentup，leavingthecoolneatlittleflatandthefriendlyMrs.Pritchett.Assoonastheywereuptheysawher.Thethreemenlookedather，resentfulathereaseinthispunishingsun.ThenHarrysaid，becauseoftheexpressiononStanley’sface：“Comeon，we’vegottopretendtowork，atleast.”Theyhadtowrenchanotherlengthofgutteringthatranbesideaparapetoutofitsbed，sothattheycouldreplaceit.Stanleytookitinhistwohands，tugged，swore，stoodup.“Fuckit，”hesaid，andsatdownunderachimney.Helitacigarette.“Fuckthem，”hesaid.“Whatdotheythinkweare，lizards?I’vegotblistersallovermyhands.”Thenhejumpedupandclimbedovertheroofsandstoodwithhisbacktothem.Heputhisfingerseithersideofhismouthandletoutashrillwhistle.TomandHarrysquatted，notlookingateachother，watchinghim.Theycouldjustseethewoman’shead，thebeginningsofherbrownshoulders.Stanleywhistledagain.Thenhebeganstampingwithhisfeet，andwhistledandyelledandscreamedatthewoman，hisfacegettingscarlet.Heseemedquitemad，ashestampedandwhistled，whilethewomandidnotmove，shedidnotmoveamuscle.“Barmy，”saidTom.“Yes，”saidHarry，disapproving.Suddenlytheoldermancametoadecision.Itwas，Tomknew，tosavesomesortofscandalorrealtroubleoverthewoman.Harrystoodupandbeganpackingtoolsintoalengthofoilycloth.“Stanley，”hesaid，commanding.AtfirstStanleytooknonotice，butHarrysaid：“Stanley，we’repackingitin，I’lltellMatthew.”Stanleycameback，cheeksmottled，eyesglaring.“Can’tgoonlikethis，”saidHarry.“It’llbreakinadayorso.I’mgoingtotellMatthewwe’vegotsunstroke，andifhedoesn’tlikeit，it’stoobad.”EvenHarrysoundedaggrieved，Tomnoted.Thesmall，competentman，thefamilymanwithhisgreyhair，whowasneverataloss，soundedreallyoffbalance.“Comeon，”hesaid，angry.Hefittedhimselfintotheopensquareintheroof，andwentdown，watchinghisfeetontheladder.ThenStanleywent，withnotaglanceatthewoman.ThenTom，who，histhroatbeatingwithexcitement，silentlypromisedheronabackwardglance：Waitforme，wait，I’mcoming.OnthepavementStanleysaid：“I’mgoinghome.”Helookedwhitenow，soperhapshereallydidhavesunstroke.Harrywentofftofindtheforeman，whowasatworkontheplumbingofsomeflatsdownthestreet.Tomslippedback，notintothebuildingtheyhadbeenworkingon，butthebuildingonwhoseroofthewomanlay.Hewentstraightup，noonestoppinghim.Theskylightstoodopen，withanironladderleadingup.Heemergedontotheroofacoupleofyardsfromher.Shesatup，pushingbackhairwithbothhands.Thescarfacrossherbreastsboundthemtight，andbrownfleshbulgedaroundit.Herlegswerebrownandsmooth.Shestaredathiminsilence.Theboystoodgrinning，foolish，claimingthetendernessheexpectedfromher.“Whatdoyouwant?”sheasked.“I...Icameto...makeyouracquaintance，”hestammered，grinning，pleadingwithher.Theylookedateachother，theslight，scarlet-facedexcitedboy，andtheserious，nearlynakedwoman.Then，withoutaword，shelaydownonherbrownblanket，ignoringhim.“Youlikethesun，doyou?”heenquiredofherglisteningback.Notaword.Hefeltpanic，thinkingofhowshehadheldhiminherarms，strokedhishair，broughthimwherehesat，lordly，inherbed，aglassofsomeexhilaratingliquorhehadnevertastedinlife.Hefeltthatifhekneltdown，strokedhershoulders，herhair，shewouldturnandclasphiminherarms.Hesaid：“Thesun’sallrightforyou，isn’tit?”Sheraisedherhead，setherchinontwosmallfists，“Goaway，”shesaid.Hedidnotmove.“Listen，”shesaid，inaslowreasonablevoice，whereangerwaskeptincheck，thoughwithdifficulty；lookingathim，herfacewearywithanger，“ifyougetakickoutofseeingwomeninbikinis，whydon’tyoutakeasixpennybusridetotheLido?You’dseedozensofthem，withoutallthismountaineering.”Shehadn’tunderstoodhim.Hefeltherunfairnesspalehim.Hestammered：“ButIlikeyou，I’vebeenwatchingyouand...”“Thanks，”shesaid，anddroppedherfaceagain，turnedawayfromhim.Shelaythere.Hestoodthere.Shesaidnothing.Shehadsimplyshuthimout.Hestood，sayingnothingatall，forsomeminutes.Hethought：She’llhavetosaysomethingifIstay.Buttheminuteswentpast，withnosignoftheminher，exceptinthetensionofherback，herthighs，herarms--thetensionofwaitingforhimtogo.Helookedupatthesky，wherethesunseemedtospininheat；andovertheroofswhereheandhismateshadbeenearlier.Hecouldseetheheatquiveringwheretheyhadworked.Andtheyexpectustoworkintheseconditions!hethought，filledwithrighteousindignation.Thewomanhadn’tmoved.Abitofhotwindblewherblackhairsoftly；itshone，andwasiridescent.Herememberedhowhehadstrokeditlastnight.Resentmentofheratlastmovedhimoffandawaydowntheladder，throughthebuilding，intothestreet.Hegotdrunkthen，inhatredofher.Nextdaywhenhewoketheskywasgrey.Helookedatthewetgreyandthought，vicious：Well，that’sfixedyou，hasn’titnow?That’sfixedyougoodandproper.Thethreemenwereatworkearlyonthecoolleads，surroundedbydampdrizzlingroofswherenoonecametosunthemselves，blackroofs，slimywithrain.Becauseitwascoolnow，theywouldfinishthejobthatday，iftheyhurried.