Janet pulled the page from her typewriter and looked nervously at her watch. It was almost the time. From the office came sounds of her boss preparing to leave—the sounds of doors opening and closing. These sounds were well known to her after eight years as his secretary. Then her boss himself stood at the door pushing a long arm into his coat. She saw how good he looked in his suit.
“Good night, Mr. Mason.” She said with a smile.
“Good night, Janet. I'll see you Monday morning as usual.” He was quick and friendly.
Perhaps she only imagined the look of concern in his eyes as he walked out. She pulled a lipstick1 and mirror from her purse. Her hands were cold and shaky when she began to redden her lips and comb2 her hair. She felt a terror slowly rising up inside herself. But she knew she must. It was too late to retreat3. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a knitting basket and a ball of wool with needles4. At the bottom of the basket lay three microfilms, each in a metal case5. She stared at them, feeling guilty. She felt a nervous shock as the whistle blew. She held her purse and took a last look around the office. Then she walked into the hall, filled with secretaries and clerks hurrying home. Doors opened. And more workers walked out into the hall. It was like every Friday. There was a noisy excitement in the air. Everyone was in a hurry to leave his desk. Janet held her purse in one hand with the knitting basket hooked over her wrist6. “Easy now,” she told herself. She stopped to let the crowd go past her. As she looked at the guard's gate, her heart sank7. Beside the regular guard Scotty there was a guard she never saw before. He was helping Scotty inspect8 the people moving through the gate. He looked at their passes and badges9. He peered into10 their purses. More carefully than Scotty, it seemed. Janet retreated to the door of the building. As a rule, she did not leave so early. She noticed how tightly she was holding her purse. “Be calm,” she said to herself. “Be natural! Everything depends on getting through that gate.” Getting the microfilm had been easy enough. But getting them past the guard would be the test.
She remembered how she and her husband Charles had prepared, step by step, what she was to do. It had sounded easy when Charles had given her the plan. It was well known that Janet was still a young bride. It seemed natural, therefore, to use a knitting basket to steal the film out of the plant. They chose the night when her old friend Scotty, a guard, took his turn at the gate. She often left the plant late and stopped at the gate to chat with him. She talked about his boy. And she spoke about the little things she was knitting. A few times, she tested him by being chatty, saying nothing about the knitting, and then passing the knitting through without inspection11. The crowd at the gate got thin. Janet closed her eyes a second and took a deep breath. Now! As naturally as possible, she moved towards Scotty. She hoped the smile on her face did not appear as stiff as it felt12. “Hello, Scotty, how are you?”
“Good evening, Mrs. Heath. You are early tonight.”
“Yes, my husband is meeting me, Scotty.” She held out her pass with picture on it and pulled back her coat so he could see her badge on her dress. Scotty nodded, “How's the knitting?”
That was it. She took out a baby's woolen bootee13 and held it out for his inspection. “I've finished this one but haven't done much on the other.” A horn honked14. “Oh, there's my husband, I have to run. Good night, Scotty!” She wondered if her voice sounded as shaky to him as it did to her own ear. She put the bootee back into the basket and passed the guardhouse. She half ran along the sidewalk15. Scotty's good night followed her. She forced herself to remain calm and slowed down. She walked toward the green car parked at the roadside, its motor running. She was shaking so much she could not turn the handle16 of the door. Charles opened it for her.
He looked at her. “Did you get them?” His voice was nervous.
“Yes,” she nodded with a dead17 feeling.
“Good girl, I know you could do it.” The car moved off into the traffic18. “Did you have any trouble getting it?” Charles was pleasant again and gave her a cigarette. “Just try to relax,” he said. “Everything is all right. I'll drop you off at the apartment as planned19, and then deliver the microfilm.” He turned on the radio. “Maybe some music will calm you.”
At last the car turned into a quiet street. Charles reached into the knitting basket and took the three shiny discs. He put them inside his coat pocket, then handed her the basket. He kissed her. “See you later.”
She entered her apartment and crossed to the wide window and looked out. She looked up and down the street then saw what she was looking for. A black car moved out and followed her husband. Behind the black was another one. Inside the car was her boss. “Well,” she said to the empty room, “That's that!” But she continued standing, looking out into the street, long after the three cars had disappeared from sight.
She still felt dead. She wondered when she would begin to feel something, the pain of a wife who had betrayed20 her husband. He told her what he expected her to do. She remembered the horror she felt over this terrible request, the shock and disbelief21. She felt some voice had warned her to be careful. This was something bigger than just herself and her marriage, a marriage now broken into little pieces. And it had been something bigger than herself that made her tell her boss the facts22. His calmness quieted her. She was able later to listen to a plan he developed together with the FBI23 for her to continue her husband's plans.
It was almost dark outside when she turned from the window and reached for a table-lamp24. She crossed the room and opened a door to the clothes-closet25. Suddenly she stopped. One side of the closet was empty. All his clothes were gone. She looked around the room. All his things were gone, as if there never had been such a person as Charles Heath. She was hit by the whole meaning of the situation26. Charles had never meant to return. She had just been his tool—married her for his purpose. She wondered how many other tools there had been before her. She started to laugh. Then her laughter turned into sobs27, great sobs. As she gave in to her misery28, there was a thought: “I'll cry tonight. Tomorrow, I'll call my lawyer!”
1． lipstick n． ＜美＞ 口红，唇膏
lip [lip] n． 嘴唇
2． comb v． 梳(发)
3． retreat v． 撤退，退却
4． 此句意为：她把手伸进抽屉，拿出一个针织篮和一卷插着针的羊毛线团。knit [nit] v． 编织needle [?謖ni?蘼dl] n． 针，编织针
5． 此句意为：篮子底下放着三张缩微胶片，分别装在三个铁盒子里。microfilm n． 缩微胶片
6． 此句意为：珍妮特一手拿着钱包，一手挽着编织篮。hook [huk] v． 弯成钩形
wrist [rist] n． 手腕，腕关节
7． 此句意为：她往门卫那儿一看，心往下一沉。guard n． 警卫
guardhouse n． 警卫室
sink v． (使)下沉
8． inspect v． 检查，视察
9． 此句意为：他查看他们的出入证和徽章。
pass n． 出入证
badge n． 徽章
10． peer into 凝视，盯着看
11． 此句意为：好几次她七扯八拉试探他，只字不提编织的事，照样带着编织的东西顺利过关。chatty [?謖t?蘩?覸ti] adj． 爱闲聊的
12． 此句意为：她希望自己脸上的笑容看上去不那么僵硬。 stiff [stif] adj． 僵硬的
13． a baby＇s woolen bootee： 一只婴儿毛线鞋 bootee n． 毛线鞋
14． A horn honked． “汽车喇叭响了。” horn n． 喇叭； 号角
honk v． 按(汽车喇叭)
15． sidewalk n． 人行道
16． handle n． 柄，把手
17． dead [ded] adj． 无感觉的，呆板的
18． 此句意为：汽车驶入了往来的车流中。
19． 此句意为：按原计划让你在公寓前下车。 drop off 让……下车
apartment n． ＜美＞公寓
20． betray v． 背叛，泄露(秘密)
21． 此句意为：她还记得丈夫对自己提这个可怕的请求时，她感到非常恐怖和吃惊，简直不敢相信（他会有如此请求）。
22． 此句意为：她觉得事关重大，远远超过了个人的利益，因而如实告诉了老板事情的真相。
23． FBI ＝Federal Bureau of Investigation 联邦调查局
24． table－lamp 台灯
25． closet n． 壁橱
26． 此句意为：眼前的一切给她当头一棒。
27． sob n． 呜咽，哭泣
28． As she gave in to her misery．．． 当她沉浸于悲痛之中时…… give in 让步
misery n． 痛苦，苦恼