A Quiet Afternoon
Egbert came into the large，dimly⁃lit room as though uncertain whether he was entering a dove⁃cote or a bomb factory，but prepared for either case.The little quarrel over the lunch⁃table had not been fought to a definite finish，and the question was whether Lady Anne wanted to either continue or put a stop to the hostilities.She now sat stiffly in the arm⁃chair by the tea⁃table；in the darkness of a December afternoon Egbert could not see clearly the expression on her face.
Don Tarquinio，the cat，lay on the Persian rug，enjoying the fire⁃light and caring not at all about the possible bad mood of Lady Anne.
Egbert poured himself out some tea.As Lady Anne gave no sign of breaking her silence he made another attempt at conversion.“My remark at lunch was about women in general，”he said.“You seem to take it much too personally.”
Lady Anne kept up her wall of silence.The caged bird lazily filled in the silence with an Italian song.Egbert recognized it immediately，because it was the only song the bird sang.In fact，the bird had come to them with the reputation for singing it.
The silence continued.Usually after four minutes of silence，Lady Anne’s anger would become quite vocal.Egbert nervously took the milk⁃pitcher and poured some milk into Don Tarquinio’s dish；as the dish was already full an awful overflow was the result.
“Don’t you think we’re being rather foolish ”said Egbert cheerfully.
If Lady Anne thought so she didn’t say.
“I admit the fault has been partly my own，”continued Egbert，with disappearing cheerfulness.‘After all，I’m only human，you know.You seem to forget that I’m only human.’
He repeated this point，as if someone had suggested that he was not.
The bird began again its Italian song.Egbert began to feel depressed.Lady Anne was not drinking her tea.Perhaps she was feeling unwell.But when Lady Anne felt unwell she was not often quiet about it.“No one knows how I suffer from stomach problems”was one of her favourite statements；but if no one knew it was because they were deaf.The amount of information Lady Anne had given on the subject of her stomach problems could have filled a book.
Clearly Lady Anne was not feeling unwell.
“I may have been to blame，”Egbert said，“I am willing，if it will help us end this quarrel，to promise to lead a better life.”
He wondered vaguely how it would be im possible.
He never did anything his wife could really complain about.But he thought it was the properthing to say，and was pleased with himself for having said it.
Lady Anne showed no sign of being impressed.
Egbert looked at her nervously through his glasses.
“I shall go and dress for dinner，”he announced in a voice he intended to sound stern.
At the door he gave into weakness again and said，“Aren’t we being very silly ”
“Very，”was Don Tarquinio’s mental comment as the door closed behind Egbert.Then he lifted his little feet in the air and leapt lightly on to a bookshelf immediately under the bird’s cage.It seemed to be the first time he had noticed the bird at all，but he was really carrying out a long⁃formed plan of action.The bird，who had always thought himself something of a king，completely safe，pressed himself into a third of his normal size，then he began helplessly beating his wings and calling out in panic.He had cost twenty⁃seven shillings without the cage，but Lady Anne showed no sign of interfering.She had been dead for two hours.
死寂
埃格伯特走进了那间光线暗淡的大屋子，吃不准是进了安静的鸽棚还是危险的炸药厂，尽管他对这两种可能都有心理准备。午饭桌上的那场争论还没有结束，不知道夫人安娜是否还会继续那种敌对行为。此时，她僵硬地坐在茶几旁边的扶手椅里。正值十二月，下午的阳光暗淡，埃格伯特也看不清她脸上的表情。
一只名叫唐·塔基尼奥的猫咪卧在波斯地毯上，享受着壁炉里暖烘烘的火，根本不关心安娜的心情会多么糟糕。
埃格伯特自己倒了杯茶，既然夫人安娜没有打破沉默的迹象，他就再试着打开僵局吧。“我午饭时发表的言论是对女性整体而言的，”他说，“你可能太敏感了，还以为是针对你的。”
安娜一点儿开口的迹象也没有，她的沉默态度像一堵墙，把他们两个分隔开来。笼中的鸟懒懒地唱了首意大利歌曲，打破了沉默。埃格伯特立刻听出了是哪首歌，因为这也是这只鸟会唱的唯一的一首歌。事实上，这只鸟就是因为会唱这只歌才被他们买下的。
沉默还在继续。通常情况下，沉默四分钟以后，安娜会用激烈的言辞来表达她的愤怒。埃格伯特紧张地提起牛奶壶，往唐·塔基尼奥的盘子里倒牛奶。盘子原来就是满满的，结果现在溢得到处都是。
“你不觉得我们太傻了吗？”埃格伯特兴冲冲地说。他也知道，即便安娜有同感，她也绝对不会承认的。
“我承认，我也有错，”埃格伯特接着说，语气中已没有了刚才那股兴冲冲的劲头。“我毕竟是人嘛，人非圣贤，孰能无过呢，这你也清楚，可你却似乎忘记了我也是人。”他重复着这一观点，好像有人说他不是人似的。
笼中的鸟儿又唱起了它的意大利歌曲。埃格伯特觉得很压抑。安娜没喝茶，也许是感觉不舒服吧。可是，安娜感觉不舒服的时候是很少沉默的，她最爱说的话就是“没人知道我的胃有多难受”。不过，倘若真有什么人不知道的话，那他一定是聋子，安娜说的类似的话足可以写成一本书。
显而易见，安娜现在不是感觉不好。
“也许怪我吧，假如我这么说对我们结束这场争吵有帮助的话，我愿意向你保证，今后的日子会好起来的。”
埃格伯特边说边在心里嘀咕这种前景有多么渺茫。
他可从来没有做过任何真正值得太太生气的事，可他还是觉得这么说合适，他甚至为自己能说出这句话而自豪。
安娜一点儿受感动的表示也没有。
埃格伯特透过眼镜片紧张地看着她。
“我去换件就餐礼服。”他用自以为严厉的声音说。
走到门口时，他的口气又软了下来。“我们挺傻，不是吗？”
“确实很蠢。”唐·塔基尼奥看着艾格伯特关上了门，心中暗想。它抬起爪子，轻轻一跳就跳上了书架，书架下面就是鸟笼。他似乎是第一次注意到这只鸟，不过，其实他在实施着一个蓄谋已久的计划。这只鸟平时自以为是神圣不可侵犯的国王，绝对安全，现在把身体缩成平常的三分之一大小，接着开始绝望地振动翅膀，慌乱地尖叫起来。买这只鸟不算笼子就花了二十七先令，可安娜一点儿干涉的意思也没有，她已经死了两个小时了。