第1章 The Last Leaf (第1/3页)
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Henry
InalittledistrictwestofWashingtonSquarethestreetshaveruncrazyandbrokenthemselvesintosmallstriscalled
"laces
".These
"laces
"makestrangeanglesandcurves.OneStreetcrossesitselfatimeortwo.Anartistoncediscoveredavaluableossibilityinthisstreet.Suoseacollectorwithabillforaints,aerandcanvasshould,intraversingthisroute,suddenlymeethimselfcomingback,withoutacenthavingbeenaidonaccount!
So,toquaintoldGreenwichVillagethearteolesooncamerowling,huntingfornorthwindowsandeighteenth-centurygablesandDutchatticsandlowrents.ThentheyimortedsomeewtermugsandachafingdishortwofromSixthAvenue,andbecamea
"colony
".
Atthetoofasquatty,three-storybrickSueandJohnsyhadtheirstudio.
"Johnsy
"wasfamiliarforJoanna.OnewasfromMaine;theotherfromCalifornia.Theyhadmetatthetabled&aos;hoteofanEighthStreet
"Delmonico&aos;s
",andfoundtheirtastesinart,chicorysaladandbishosleevessocongenialthatthejointstudioresulted.
ThatwasinMay.InNovemberacold,unseenstranger,whomthedoctorscalledPneumonia,stalkedaboutthecolony,touchingonehereandtherewithhisicyfingers.Overontheeastsidethisravagerstrodeboldly,smitinghisvictimsbyscores,buthisfeettrodslowlythroughthemazeofthenarrowandmoss-grown
"laces
".
Mr.Pneumoniawasnotwhatyouwouldcallachivalricoldgentleman.AmiteofalittlewomanwithbloodthinnedbyCaliforniazehyrswashardlyfairgameforthered-fisted,short-breathedoldduffer.ButJohnsyshesmote;andshelay,scarcelymoving,onheraintedironbedstead,lookingthroughthesmallDutchwindow-anesattheblanksideofthenextbrickhouse.
OnemorningthebusydoctorinvitedSueintothehallwaywithashaggy,grayeyebrow.
"Shehasonechancein-letussay,ten,
"hesaid,asheshookdownthemercuryinhisclinicalthermometer.
"Andthatchanceisforhertowanttolive.Thiswayeolehaveoflining-uonthesideoftheundertakermakestheentireharmacooeialooksilly.Yourlittleladyhasmadeuhermindthatshe&aos;snotgoingtogetwell.Hassheanythingonhermind?
"
"She-shewantedtoainttheBayofNalessomeday.
"saidSue.
"Paint?-bosh!Hassheanythingonhermindworththinkingabluttwice-amanforinstance?
"
"Aman?
"saidSue,withajew&aos;s-hartwanginhervoice.
"Isamanworth-but,no,doctor;thereisnothingofthekind.
"
"Well,itistheweakness,then,
"saidthedoctor.
"Iwilldoallthatscience,sofarasitmayfilterthroughmyefforts,canaccomlish.ButwhenevermyatientbeginstocountthecarriagesinherfuneralrocessionIsubtract50ercentfromthecurativeowerofmedicines.IfyouwillgethertoaskonequestionaboutthenewwinterstylesincloaksleevesIwillromiseyouaone-in-fivechanceforher,insteadofoneinten.
"
AfterthedoctorhadgoneSuewentintotheworkroomandcriedaJaanesenakintoaul.ThensheswaggeredintoJohnsy&aos;sroomwithherdrawingboard,whistlingragtime.
Johnsylay,scarcelymakingarileunderthebedclothes,withherfacetowardthewindow.Suestoedwhistling,thinkingshewasaslee.
Shearrangedherboardandbeganaen-and-inkdrawingtoillustrateamagazinestory.YoungartistsmustavetheirwaytoArtbydrawingicturesformagazinestoriesthatyoungauthorswritetoavetheirwaytoLiterature.
AsSuewassketchingaairofeleganthorseshowridingtrousersandamonocleonthefigureofthehero,anIdahocowboy,sheheardalowsound,severaltimesreeated.Shewentquicklytothebedside.
Johnsy&aos;seyeswereoenwide.Shewaslookingoutthewindowandcounting-countingbackward.
"Twelve,
"shesaid,andlittlelater
"eleven
";andthen
"ten,
"and
"nine
";andthen