轻重，而且坦诚相告。德拉姆的回信也一样冗长。莫瑞斯总是随身携带着它们，每次换衣服就把它们移到另一件衣服的兜里。睡觉时，甚至用别针别在睡衣上。半夜里醒来，他抚摸它们，留心观察着在街灯映照下的天花板上的投影，并想起自己还是个小男孩时，曾经多么害怕过。
还发生了一件关于格拉迪斯•奥尔科特小姐的事情。
奥尔科特小姐是他们家不常来往的客人中的一个。在一家水疗旅馆里，她曾对霍尔太太和艾达照顾得无微不至，因此应邀而来。她是个妩媚的姑娘，至少女人们都这么说。男客们则对这家的儿子说，他是个幸运儿。他笑了，他们笑了。起初，莫瑞斯没把她看在眼里、自此对她献起殷勤来了。
莫瑞斯本人没有意识到，他已成为一个英俊的青年。大量的体育锻炼使得他不再那么笨手笨脚了。身体很重，但动作敏捷，面部好像也随着变得线条优美。霍尔太太把这归功于他嘴唇上面那一簇小胡子。“莫瑞斯的小胡子可以造就他。”她这句评语比她所意识到的要深刻。那一小道黑线确实使他脸上的表情富于魅力，从而他微笑的时候牙齿就很显眼了。莫瑞斯还很会穿衣服，在德拉姆的劝告下，即使在星期天他也一直穿法兰绒长裤。
他朝着奥尔科特小姐微笑——好像应该这么做，她以笑脸相迎。他用体力为她效劳，让她坐在他那辆簇新的摩托车挎斗里，带她出去兜风。他伸开四肢，躺在她脚下。他发现她抽烟．就说服她跟他一起留在饭厅里。只剩他们两个人后，他要她凝视他的眼睛。蓝色水雾颤动着，一缕一缕的，融化成一堵堵墙壁，莫瑞斯也随着浮想联翩。新鲜空气从一扇打开的窗户飘进来，一切突然都消失了。他看出她是满意的。他的母亲、妹妹们以及仆人们，也被激起极大的好奇心。他打定主意继续做下去。
紧接着就失败了。莫瑞斯恭维她说，她的一头秀发非常好等等。她试图制止他，然而他不敏[gǎn]，不知道自己惹恼了她。他在书中读到过，女孩总是假装制止那些向她们说奉承话的男人。他缠住她。最后一天，她托辞不肯坐进他那辆摩托车的挎斗．，于是他扮演了盛气凌人的大男子汉角色。奥尔科特小姐是来做客的，只好跟着他去兜风。他把她带到他认为富于浪漫色彩的风景区，用双手攥住她那两只小小的手。
奥尔科特小姐并不反对自己的手被攥住。别的男人也这么做过，只要莫瑞斯懂得该怎样做，她是不会感到不满的。但是她觉得有些不正常，他的触摸使她反感，那种感觉像是来自于尸体的。她跳起来喊道：“霍尔先生，别这么愚蠢。我的意思是说，别这么傻。我不是为了让你做出更傻的事才这么说的。”
“奥尔科特小姐——格拉迪斯——我宁肯死掉，也不愿意得罪你——”小伙子低声吼叫，他打算继续跟她周旋。
“我得乘火车回去。”她边抽泣边说，“我非坐火车不可，请原谅。”她比他先到了家，撒了个适当的小谎，头痛啦，眼睛里进了沙子啦。然而他的家人觉察到出了什么问题。
除了这段插曲，假期过得挺愉快。莫瑞斯读了些书，与其说是在导师的指教下，不如说是接受了德拉姆的建议。他确信自己已长大成人，为了证实这一点，他做了一两件事。他鼓动母亲将多年来使全家人的户外活动陷于瘫痪状态的豪厄尔夫妇解雇，并把马车换成小轿车。每一个人都心悦诚服，包括豪厄尔夫妇。他还拜访了父亲的一位老搭档。莫瑞斯从父亲那里继承了点儿从事商业的才能以及一笔钱。于是莫瑞斯决定从剑桥毕业后，就作为一名不持有股东资格的社员进入希尔与霍尔证券交易公司。他将迈入英国为他准备的、非常适合他的领域。
Chapter 9
During the previous term he had reached an unusual level mentally, but the vac pulled him back towards public-schoolishness. He was less alert, he again behaved as he supposed he was supposed to behave—a perilous feat for one who is not dowered with imagination. His mind, not obscured totally, was often crossed by clouds, and though Miss Olcott had passed, the insincerity that led him to her remained. His family were the main cause of this. He had yet to realize that they were stronger than he and influenced him incalculably. Three weeks in their company left him untidy, sloppy, victorious in every item, yet defeated on the whole. He came back thinking, and even speaking, like his mother or Ada.
Till Durham arrived he had not noticed the deterioration. Durham had not been well, and came up a few days late. When his face, paler than usual, peered round the door, Maurice had a spasm of despair, and tried to recollect where they stood last term, and to gather up the threads of the campaign. He felt him-self slack, and afraid of action. The worst part of him rose to the surface, and urged him to prefer comfort to joy.
"Hullo, old man," he said awkwardly.
Durham slipped in without speaking.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing"; and Maurice knew that he had lost touch. Last term he would have understood this silent entrance.
"Anyhow, take a pew."
Durham sat upon the floor beyond his reach. It was late after-noon. The sounds of the May term, the scents of the Cambridge year in flower, floated in through the window and said to Mau-rice, "You are unworthy of us." He knew that he was three parts dead, an alien, a yokel in Athens. He had no business here, nor with such a friend.
"I say, Durham—"
Durham came nearer. Maurice stretched out a hand and felt the head nestle against it. He forgot what he was going to say. The sounds and scents whispered, "You are we, we are youth." Very gently he stroked the hair and ran his fingers down into it as if to caress the brain.◢本◢作◢品◢由◢◢網◢提◢供◢下◢載◢與◢在◢線◢閱◢讀◢
"I say, Durham, have you been all right?"
"Have you?"
"No."
"You wrote you were." I wasn t.
The truth in his own voice made him tremble. "A rotten vac and I never knew it," and wondered how long he should know it. The mist would lower again, he felt sure, and with an unhappy sigh he pulled Durham's head against his knee, as though it was a talisman for clear living. It lay there, and he had accomplished a new tenderness—stroked it steadily from temple to throat. Then, removing both hands, he dropped them on either side of him and sat sighing.
"Hall." . Maurice looked.
"Is there some trouble?"
He caress