的意思是，”里斯利说，“哦，我的意思很清楚，炸肉排对你们的潜意识的生命产生影响，我这个人对你们的意识发生作用，所以我不仅比炸肉排令人难忘，也比它更重要。这位在座的你们的学监，生活在中世纪的黑暗里，他但愿你们也像他这么做，他假装只有下意识，只有你们的知识所涉及不到的那个部分才是重要的。他自己每天施催眠术——”
“喂，住嘴。”学监说。
“然而我是光明之子——”
“喂，住嘴。”于是他把话题转到正常的方向。尽管里斯利总是谈自己，他却不是个自我中心的人。他没有打断旁人的谈话，更不曾装出一副漠不关心的样子。他像一头海豚那样嬉戏着，不论他们聊到哪儿，他都奉陪，决不妨碍他们的进程。他在做游戏，然而是认真地做游戏。对他们来说，重要的是径直往前走，他却情愿来回走，他喜欢自始至终挨近他们。倘若是几个月之前，莫瑞斯的想法就会跟查普曼一致，然而如今他确信这个人有内容，琢磨着是不是该进一步认识他。吃罢午饭，里斯利在楼梯脚等候他，这使他感到高兴。
里斯利说：“你没看出来，我那位表哥不是个男子汉。”
“对我们来说，他是个好样儿的。”查普曼大发雷霆，“他非常讨人欢喜。”
“千真万确。阉人全都是这样的。”说罢，他扬长而去。
“啊，畜——”查普曼吼道，然而英国人的自我克制使他把下面的话咽回去了。他震惊不已。他告诉莫瑞斯，适度的脏话他并不介意，然而里斯利太过分了。这是卑鄙的，缺乏绅士风度，这小子不会是公学培养出来的。莫瑞斯的意见与他相同。如果愿意的话，可以骂你的表哥“混蛋”，可不能骂“阉人”。卑劣到极点！尽管如此，他被逗乐了。从那以后，每逢他被叫到学监室去挨申诉，有关学监的一些荒唐可笑、前后矛盾的想法就会浮现在他的脑海里。
Chapter 6
All that day and the next Maurice was planning how he could see this queer fish again. The chances were bad. He did not like to call on a senior-year man, and they were at different colleges. Risley, he gathered, was well known at the Union, and he went to the Tuesday debate in the hope of hear-ing him: perhaps he would be easier to understand in public. He was not attracted to the man in the sense that he wanted him for a friend, but he did feel he might help him—how, he didn't formulate. It was all very obscure, for the mountains still overshadowed Maurice. Risley, surely capering on the summit, might stretch him a helping hand.
Having failed at the Union, he had a reaction. He didn't want anyone's help; he was all right. Besides, none of his friends would stand Risley, and he must stick to his friends. But the re-action soon passed, and he longed to see him more than ever. Since Risley was so odd, might he not be odd too, and break all the undergraduate conventions by calling? One "ought to be human", and it was a human sort of thing to call. Much struck by the discovery, Maurice decided to be Bohemian also, and to enter the room making a witty speech in Risley's own style. "You've bargained for more than you've gained" occurred to him. It didn't sound very good, but Risley had been clever at not letting him feel a fool, so he would fire it off if inspired to nothing better, and leave the rest to luck.
For it had become an adventure. This man who said one ought to "talk, talk" had stirred Maurice incomprehensibly. One night, just before ten o'clock, he slipped into Trinity and waited in the Great Court until the gates were shut behind him. Look-ing up, he noticed the night. He was indifferent to beauty as a rule, but "what a show of stars!" he thought. And how the foun-tain splashed when the chimes died away, and the gates and doors all over Cambridge had been fastened up. Trinity men were around him—all of enormous intellect and culture. Maur-ice's set had laughed at Trinity, but they could not ignore its dis-dainful radiance, or deny the superiority it scarcely troubles to affirm. He had come to it without their knowledge, humbly, to ask its help. His witty speech faded in its atmosphere; and his heart beat violently. He was ashamed and afraid.
Risley's rooms were at the end of a short passage; which since it contained no obstacle was unlighted, and visitors slid along the wall until they hit the door. Maurice hit it sooner than he ex-pected—a most awful whack—and exclaimed "Oh damnation" loudly, while the panels quivered.
"Come in," said a voice. Disappointment awaited him. The speaker was a man of his own college, by name Durham. Risley was out.
"Do you want Mr Risley? Hullo, Hall!"
"Hullo! Where's Risley?"◥◥文◥檔◥共◥享◥與◥在◥線◥閱◥讀◥
"I don't know."
"Oh, it's nothing. I'll go."
"Are you going back into college?" asked Durham without looking up: he was kneeling over a castle of pianola records on the floor.
"I suppose so, as he isn't here. It wasn't anything particular."
"Wait a sec, and I'll come too. I'm sorting out the Pathetic Symphony."
Maurice examined Risley's room and wondered what would have been said in it, and then sat on the table and looked at Durham. He was a small man—very small—with simple man-ners and a fair f