我们度着幸福的日子。 我们度过了正月和二月，那年冬天天气非常好，我们生活得非常美满。偶尔有暖风吹来，短期间冰雪融解，空气中颇有春意，但是接着晴朗凛冽的寒天再度袭来，又 是冬天季节了。到了三月，冬天的季节首次发生变化。夜里落起雨来。第二天上午还是下个不停，使雪化成了雪水，搞得山坡景色黯然无趣。湖上和河谷上都罩着 云。高山上在下雨。凯瑟琳穿着笨重的大套鞋，我穿上戈丁根先生的长统雨靴，两人同撑一把雨伞，越过那些把路上冰块冲洗得干干净净的雪水和流水，往车站走 去，找家小酒店歇歇脚，喝一杯午饭前的味美思。我们听得见店外边的雨声。
门房衣襟上挂有一串铜钥匙，屋子里有电梯，地板上铺着地毯，还有白色盥洗盆配有一些亮晶晶的水龙头，铜床和舒舒服服的大卧房，这一切比起山居的简陋 简直是富丽堂皇的了。房间的窗户朝着一个淋湿的花园，花园里有围墙，墙顶上装有铁栅。街道的坡度很陡，对街另有一家旅馆，也有同样的围墙和花园。我望着雨 落在花园里的喷水池上。凯瑟琳开了所有的电灯，开始打开行李。我叫了一杯威士忌苏打，躺在床上看车站上买来的报纸。那时是一九一八年三月，德军在法国的总 攻击已经开始了⑤。我边喝威士忌苏打边读报，凯瑟琳收拾着打开的行李，在房里走来走去。
① 洛桑是瑞士的重要大城市，在蒙特勒西北，日内瓦湖北岸。它历史悠久，15 世纪就建有学院，于19 世纪末改为大学，有医学院。
“谢谢，先生。“他出去把门带上了。我回头看报，看报上的战事消息，把苏打水从冰块上慢慢地倒进威士忌里。我本该吩咐他们别把冰块放在酒里。冰要另 外放。只有这样你才能知道威士忌有多少，免得苏打水冲下去，忽然发觉冲得太淡了。我要叫他们拿整瓶的威士忌来，冰和苏打水另外放。这办法最妥当。好的威士 忌喝起来非常痛快。是人生快事之一。“你在想什么，亲爱的？“
凯瑟琳上城里买了孩子应用的东西。我跑到拱廊商场一家体育馆去练拳击。我通常是早上去的，那时凯瑟琳还躺在床上，很晚才起来。假春天那几天很不错， 打拳后冲一个淋浴，在街上走时闻得到春天的气息，上家咖啡店歇歇脚，坐下看看人，读读报，喝一杯味美思；然后回旅馆和凯瑟琳一同吃中饭。拳击体育馆那位教 练留着小髭，拳法谨严，动作急促，但如果你果真回他几拳，他可就整个垮下来了。不过那地方倒很愉快。空气光线都好；我相当下苦功，跳绳，对着假想对手练 拳，躺在地板上，在从敞开的窗外射进的一摊阳光里作腹部运动；和教练对打的时候偶尔吓吓他。起初对着一面窄窄的长镜子练习打拳，我好不习惯，因为看着一个 留胡子的人在打拳，太不像个样子。到了后来，只当它好玩就是了。我开始练拳的时候，本想剃掉胡子的，但是凯瑟琳不答应。
有时凯瑟琳和我乘马车到郊外去兜风。在天气晴朗的日子，驱车郊游很是有趣，我们还找到了两个可以吃饭的好地方。现在凯瑟琳不能走得很远了，我也乐于 陪她赶车子在乡间道路上跑跑。碰到天气好，我们总是尽兴而归，从来不觉得沉闷。我们知道孩子快要出生，两人都觉得有件什么事在催促我们尽情作乐，不要浪费 我们在一起的任何时间。
① 指德军于3 月21 日发动的总攻击，旨在分裂英法联军，个别击破，结果英军被逼撤退25 英里。
We had a fine life. We lived through the months of January and February and the winter was very fine and we were very happy. There had been short thaws when the wind blew warm and the snow softened and the air felt like spring, but always the clear hard cold had come again and the winter had returned. In March came the first break in the winter. In the night it started raining. It rained on all morning and turned the snow to slush and made the mountain-side dismal. There were clouds over the lake and over the valley. It was raining high up the mountain. Catherine wore heavy overshoes and I wore Mr. Guttingen's rubber-boots and we walked to the station under an umbrella, through the slush and the running water that was washing the ice of the roads bare, to stop at the pub before lunch for a vermouth. Outside we could hear the rain.
"Do you think we ought to move into town?"
"What do you think?" Catherine asked.
"If the winter is over and the rain keeps up it won't be fun up here. How long is it before young Catherine?"
"About a month. Perhaps a little more."
"We might go down and stay in Montreux."
"Why don't we go to Lausanne? That's where the hospital is."
"All right. But I thought maybe that was too big a town."
"We can be as much alone in a bigger town and Lausanne might be nice."
"When should we go?"
"I don't care. Whenever you want, darling. I don't want to leave here if you don't want."
"Let's see how the weather turns out."
It rained for three days. The snow was all gone now on the mountain-side below the station. The road was a torrent of muddy snow-water. It was too wet and slushy to go out. On the morning of the third day of rain we decided to go down into town.
"That is all right, Mr. Henry," Guttingen said. "You do not have to give me any notice. I did not think you would want to stay now the bad weather is come."
"We have to be near the hospital anyway on account of Madame," I said.
"I understand," he said. "Will you come back some time and stay, with the little one?"
"Yes, if you would have room."
"In the spring when it is nice you could come and enjoy it. We could put the little one and the nurse in the big room that is closed now and you and Madame could have your same room looking out over the lake."
"I'll write about coming," I said. We packed and left on the train that went down after lunch. Mr. and Mrs. Guttingen came down to the station with us and he hauled our baggage down on a sled through the slush. They stood beside the station in the rain waving good-by.
"They were very sweet," Catherine said.
"They were fine to us."
We took the train to Lausanne from Montreux. Looking out the window toward where we had lived you could not see the mountains for the clouds. The train stopped in Vevey, then went on, passing the lake on one side and on the other the wet brown fields and the bare woods and the wet houses. We came into Lausanne and went into a medium-sized hotel to stay. It was still raining as we drove through the streets and into the carriage entrance of the hotel. The concierge with brass keys on his lapels, the elevator, the carpets on the floors, and the white washbowls with shining fixtures, the brass bed and the big comfortable bedroom all seemed very great luxury after the Guttingens. The windows of the room looked out on a wet garden with a wall topped by an iron fence. Across the street, which sloped steeply, was another hotel with a similar wall and garden. I looked out at the rain falling in the fountain of the garden.
Catherine turned on all the lights and commenced unpacking. I ordered a whiskey and soda and lay on the bed and read the papers I had bought at the station. It was March, 1918, and the German offensive had started in France. I drank the whiskey and soda and read while Catherine unpacked and moved around the room.
"You know what I have to get, darling," she said.
"Baby clothes. There aren't many people reach my time without baby things."
"You can buy them."
"I know. That's what I'll do to-morrow. I'll find out what is necessary."
"You ought to know. You were a nurse."
"But so few of the soldiers had babies in the hospitals."
She hit me with the pillow and spilled the whiskey and soda.
"I'll order you another," she said. "I'm sorry I spilled it."
"There wasn't much left. Come on over to the bed."
"No. I have to try and make this room look like something."
"Like our home."
"Hang out the Allied flags."
"Oh shut up."
"Say it again."
"You say it so cautiously," I said. "As though you didn't want to offend any one."
"Then come over to the bed."
"All right." She came and sat on the bed. "I know I'm no fun for you, darling. I'm like a big flour-barrel."
"No you're not. You're beautiful and you're sweet."
"I'm just something very ungainly that you've married."
"No you're not. You're more beautiful all the time."
"But I will be thin again, darling."
"You're thin now."
"You've been drinking."
"Just whiskey and soda."
"There's another one coming," she said. "And then should we order dinner up here?"
"That will be good."
"Then we won't go out, will we? We'll just stay in to-night."
"And play," I said.
"I'll drink some wine," Catherine said. "It won't hurt me. Maybe we can get some of our old white capri."
"I know we can," I said. "They'll have Italian wines at a hotel this size."
The waiter knocked at the door. He brought the whiskey in a glass with ice and beside the glass on a tray a small bottle of soda.
"Thank you," I said. "Put it down there. Will you please have dinner for two brought up here and two bottles of dry white capri in ice."
"Do you wish to commence your dinner with soup?"
"Do you want soup, Cat?"
"Bring soup for one."
"Thank you, sir." He went out and shut the door. I went back to the papers and the war in the papers and poured the soda slowly over the ice into the whiskey. I would have to tell them not to put ice in the whiskey. Let them bring the ice separately. That way you could tell how much whiskey there was and it would not suddenly be too thin from the soda. I would get a bottle of whiskey and have them bring ice and soda. That was the sensible way. Good whiskey was very pleasant. It was one of the pleasant parts of life.
"What are you thinking, darling?"
"What about whiskey?"
"About how nice it is."
Catherine made a face. "All right," she said.
We stayed at that hotel three weeks. It was not bad; the diningroom was usually empty and very often we ate in our room at night. We walked in the town and took the cogwheel railway down to Ouchy and walked beside the lake. The weather became quite warm and it was like spring. We wished we were back in the mountains but the spring weather lasted only a few days and then the cold rawness of the breaking-up of winter came again.
Catherine bought the things she needed for the baby, up in the town. I went to a gymnasium in the arcade to box for exercise. I usually went up there in the morning while Catherine stayed late in bed. On the days of false spring it was very nice, after boxing and taking a shower, to walk along the streets smelling the spring in the air and stop at a caf?to sit and watch the people and read the paper and drink a vermouth; then go down to the hotel and have lunch with Catherine. The professor at the boxing gymnasium wore mustaches and was very precise and jerky and went all to pieces if you started after him. But it was pleasant in the gym. There was good air and light and I worked quite hard, skipping rope, shadowboxing, doing abdominal exercises lying on the floor in a patch of sunlight that came through the open window, and occasionally scaring the professor when we boxed. I could not shadow-box in front of the narrow long mirror at first because it looked so strange to see a man with a beard boxing. But finally I just thought it was funny. I wanted to take off the beard as soon as I started boxing but Catherine did not want me to.
Sometimes Catherine and I went for rides out in the country in a carriage. It was nice to ride when the days were pleasant and we found two good places where we could ride out to eat. Catherine could not walk very far now and I loved to ride out along the country roads with her. When there was a good day we had a splendid time and we never had a bad time. We knew the baby was very close now and it gave us both a feeling as though something were hurrying us and we could not lose any time together.