Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Around the World

1 Traveling the world is the most exciting thing in my experience.I'm so excited it's hard to believe this is real.From time to time, I mutter to myself: "I'm going to travel the world." Of course, the most eagerly awaited vacation is to Honolulu Island.I never dreamed that I would go to a small island in the South Pacific.It is difficult for people who only know the present but not the past to understand the feelings of people at that time.Traveling abroad by boat is so commonplace these days, at such a reasonable price, that in the end it seems like everyone can do it.

When Archie and I were on holiday in the Pyrenees, we traveled all night in second class.The third-class compartments of foreign passenger cars are almost the same as the steerage of ships.Even in England a respectable woman traveling alone would never travel third class.Fleas, lice, and drunks were commonplace there, and even the maids of respectable women traveled in second class.We hiked among the Pyrenees mountains and spent the night in cheap hotels.Afterwards we all wondered if we would be able to live with it the next year. What unfolds before us now is a truly extravagant trip.Belcher naturally arranged everything according to the standard of first class.Only the most generous treatment is worthy of the tour group of the British Empire.Each of us is what we call important people these days.

Belcher's secretary, Mr. Bates, is a young man with an unsmiling, trusting face.He was a very good secretary, but he looked like a villain in an old drama: black hair, piercing eyes, and a villainous look. "Like a real villain, isn't he?" said Belcher. "You think he'll slit your throat any minute. In fact, he's the most respectable man you've ever met." We wondered until we arrived in Cape Town how Bates could bear to be Belcher's secretary.He was constantly sent back and forth, and Belcher told him to do this and that, day and night, minute by minute, develop film, record dictation documents, and revise again and again. Belcher was always changing. letters.I'm sure he's well paid--what else could he be passionate about?I'm sure of that, especially since he has no interest in traveling.He was restless when he was abroad—mainly afraid of snakes, and he thought we would encounter thousands of poisonous snakes in the countries we visited, and these snakes seemed to be waiting to bite him.

As much as we set off, at least my enthusiasm was quickly dampened.The weather was inclement.When first boarding the steamer "Castle Kildonan" everything seemed to be going well, but soon the sea became violent.The situation in the Bay of Biscay was dire.I lay in the cabin, moaning from seasickness.For four days in a row I lay flat on the bed, unable to eat anything.Archie later called the ship's doctor to see me.I think the doctor probably dismissed the seasickness, and gave me some medicine, which he said would calm me down, but it didn't do much.I was still moaning, as if I was dying, and I looked ashamed; a lady in the adjacent cabin glanced at me from outside the door, and asked the cabin hostess curiously: "Is the lady in the opposite cabin dead?" One night I said seriously to Archie, "If I make it to Madeira alive, I'll get off the ship."

"I hope you feel better soon." "No, I will never be well. I must disembark and return to dry land." "Even if you disembark in Madeira, you have to go back to England," he reminded me. "No need, I'll stay and find something to do there." "What are you looking for?" Archie asked incredulously. Indeed, in that era, it was easier said than done for women to find work.A woman is a lady who is supported by her parents, a wife who is doted on by her husband, and a widow who lives on the inheritance of her deceased husband or the relief of relatives.Women can be bridesmaids for old ladies, or take care of children in kindergartens.However, I replied plausibly: "I can be a parlor maid."

Parlor maids are always in demand, especially tall women.I am confident that I fit the bill.I knew where the wine glasses were at the table, opened and closed doors for guests, washed the silverware - we always cleaned our silver picture frames and curios at home - and I was pretty good at serving.I whispered, "Well, I could be a parlor maid." Archie said, "Fuck you, we'll talk about it in Madeira." When the ship reached Madeira, however, I was too weak to even think of getting up.In fact, I felt that the only way out was to stay on board, delay for a day or two and die.Five or six hours after the ship docked in Madeira, I suddenly felt much better.The next day, the ship sailed away from the Madeira Islands. The morning sun was slightly dewed, the sun was shining, and the sea was like a mirror.Seasickness makes people think: I am also thinking about what made people look for life and death.After all, I didn't encounter anything related to my family's life, just seasickness.

I have more vivid memories of Cape Town than of other places; perhaps because it was the first port we visited, and everything there was full of newness and strangeness.The black people, the very gentle Table Mountain, the sunny sunshine, the luscious pears, Mu Yuan—everything makes people linger and forget to return. South Africa is an important place in my mind.From Cape Town, we parted ways.Archie, Mrs. Helm, and Sylvia met us in Rhodesia via Port Elizabeth.I went with Belcher and Mr. Heim to the diamond mines in the Kimberley, straight through Matopos, and joined them at Woodsbury.I often recall the hot, dusty weather on the train going north through Carlow, always smoking with thirst and quenching my thirst with ice-cold lime-oak juice.The scene of Belcher's making Bates an officer and arguing with Heim came to mind.I found Matopos fascinating, with its boulders piled up like giant masterpieces of ingenuity.

in Salisbury.We had a great time with the local breezy Brits and from there Archie and I took a lightning trip to Victoria Falls.Fortunately I didn't go there again, so the first impression of the waterfall will always be fresh.Tall trees, gentle rain, and flying rainbows, Archie and I wandered in the forest. From time to time, the rainbow cleared the water mist, and at that charming moment, it presented the spectacular scenery of the waterfall flying down in the glow of the sun. before your eyes.Ah, that is one of the seven wonders of the world in my mind. We've been to Livingstone and seen carp swimming around and hippos.During the journey, I bought woodcarved animals for three to five pence from aboriginal children at stations along the way and brought them back.These small animals are carved lifelike: antelope, giraffe, hippopotamus, zebra - simple, rustic, full of charm and unique charm.

Johannesburg did not leave much impression, but the resplendent stone pillars of the Union Building in Pretoria are still fresh in my memory; later I came to Durban, a depressing place, because I got a netted net on the beach because of the sea bathing. within the circle.In Cape Province, the happiest thing is sea bathing.As soon as we can free ourselves – or Archie is free – we board the train to Mezansburg, hop on our surfboards, and surf the sea together, South African surfboards are made of light, thin boards , easy to control, it doesn't take long to master the tricks, and shuttle back and forth between the peaks of the waves.Occasionally, it can be excruciatingly painful to fall headfirst, but it's an easy exercise and fun entertainment.We had a picnic on the dunes.I still remember the colorful flowers.We attended a ball, probably in church or at the bishop's mansion.There was a red garden, and a blue garden with tall blue flowers and trees.This blue garden is extremely delicate and beautiful because of its full garden of mirabilis.

The cost in South Africa is no problem.This puts us in a good mood.We were treated like honored guests of the government at almost every hotel, and train travel was free—except for the private trip to Victoria Falls, which cost a fortune. Departing from South Africa, the passenger ship sailed to Australia.It was a rather tedious long trip.The captain explained to me that the shortest way to Australia was to take the South Pole and then go north, which was a mystery to me.He explained it to me by drawing pictures, but it is not easy to remember that the earth is round and the poles are flat.This is a geographical fact, but in real life, it is difficult for you to understand its meaning.

It always baffles me that any country is always portrayed in a very different way than the impression you get when you first arrive.My rough impression of Australia is an astonishing number of kangaroos and wild desert.What surprised me most was when we arrived in Melbourne, the strange beauty of the trees and the exoticism that the Australian eucalyptus gave to the scenery.Wherever I go, the trees are always the first to catch my attention, or the ups and downs of the mountains.In the UK, people are used to trees with dark trunks and bright-toned foliage; in Australia, it's the opposite, something new. There are silvery white trunks everywhere, and the dull leaves are like the negatives of photographs.Also exciting are the tungsten gulls: blue, red, and green, flying in flocks.The colorful colors are so beautiful, like flying gems. In Australia and New Zealand, I have repeatedly made a social embarrassment due to the position of the banquet table.We used to sit next to the mayor or the president of the Chamber of Commerce wherever we went, so at the first banquet held here, I sat directly next to the mayor and other prominent figures without thinking.An old woman said to me sourly, "Mrs. Christie, I think you would like to sit next to your husband." I hurriedly took the seat next to Archie with a face full of shame. We once stopped at a station in New South Wales that seemed to be called Yanga. We remembered that there was a large lake with black swans swimming around on the lake, like a beautiful landscape painting.There, Belcher and Archie were busy presenting the demands of the British Empire, discussing imperial immigration and the importance of imperial trade, and the like, and I had time to sit in the Orangery for a pleasant day. Half of our travel is by train, but more by car.Driving across vast expanses of prairie with only the occasional windmill piercing the horizon, I realized a chilling fact: It's so easy to get lost.The sun hangs high overhead, making it impossible to tell east, west, south, or north.I can't imagine what a grassy desert looks like, but only the concept of a desert full of gravel.But when traveling in the desert, you can find a signpost or some obvious sign to guide the direction, but you can't find such a sign on this endless Australian grassland. We got to Sydney and had a great time there.I heard that Sydney and Rio de Janeiro are the two most beautiful harbor cities in the world, but Sydney disappointed me. Maybe I expected too much from it.Fortunately, I have never been to Rio de Janeiro, so I always have a fascinating picture of it in my mind. Soon Archie and Belcher arrived, exhausted by their tireless efforts. We had a weekend of fun and carefree fun, creative play, and tours in the narrow-gauge train, and I drove How many miles it ran. The British tour group is preparing for hardships in Australia.The daily schedule is packed: lectures, banquets, working lunches, receptions and long walks.I can recite what Belcher said.He is a good speaker, and his heartfelt and passionate speeches seem to be his impromptu masterpieces.Archie contrasts him with his prudence and financial acumen.Archie was once dubbed the head of the Bank of England by the newspapers.Nothing he said about it ever appeared in the press, so as far as the press was concerned he was the head of the Bank of England. Leaving Australia, we went to Tasmania, from Launceston to the unbelievably beautiful Tumbatt, blue sea and harbour, lush flowers and trees, I plan to go back there one day and Settle there. Farewell to Hobart, we arrived in New Zealand.I still remember that trip vividly. Because our fate is in the hands of a guy we call "The Dehydrator".That was when the concept of dehydrated foods was all the rage.This guy is always trying to dehydrate a series of food, and every meal, he passes plates from his table to look at, and invites us to taste them again and again.We ate dehydrated carrots, dehydrated bayberries, etc. - all without exception tasteless. Belcher said: "If I pretend to eat another mouthful of his dehydrated food, I will go crazy." Go with dehydrated carrots and dehydrated potatoes. At this time, the pleasant atmosphere of the initial journey together was gone.The Belcher who used to dine politely at my house no longer looked like a friend.He was rude, arrogant, bossy, inconsiderate, and fussy about little things, and I always thought New Zealand was the most beautiful country I've ever seen.The scenery there is unparalleled.We arrived in Wellington on a clear day, which the residents say is rare.The beauty of the rural scenery is breathtaking.I vowed to come back in the spring--I mean the local spring--to see the wax-dark trees in full bloom, golden and scarlet.But that didn't happen. Belcher gladly returned to New Zealand.He made many friends there and was as comfortable as a child.He wished me and Archie all the best and a great time before we left for Honolulu.Thankfully, Archie is no longer entangled in official business, and doesn't have to waste time with his curmudgeonly dreamy companion.We traveled leisurely, stranded in Fiji and other small islands, and finally arrived in Honolulu.It is far more prosperous than the scene we imagined where there are many hotels and many roads and cars.We arrived in the early morning. As soon as we entered the hotel bedroom and looked out of the window, we saw people surfing on the beach and crowds flocking to rent surfboards and jump into the sea.We didn't know how deep it was, it wasn't a good day for surfing - the weather for good surfers - but we had surfed in South Africa and thought we knew it.The situation in Honolulu is completely different.A surfboard is a thick wooden board so heavy that it barely floats.You lie on it and slide slowly towards the reef, which seems to me only a mile away.Once there, you have to pick your spot again and wait for the right wave to hit and throw you on the shore.This kind of thing looks easier than it is.First of all, you must see the timing of the waves, and secondly, and more importantly, you must recognize the waves that imply murder, because once you are wrapped in it, you will be swept into the bottom of the sea, and you have to resign yourself to fate. Our room was surrounded by banana trees - but the bananas were a disappointment like pineapples.I imagined picking a banana off a tree and trying it.Bananas in Honolulu are not eaten this way.It was an important economic income, and it was cut off when it was still green.However, although it is not readily available from the tree, there are always many unheard of varieties to try.There are more than a dozen varieties of bananas in Honolulu: red bananas, large bananas, small white and soft bananas called ice cream, vegetable bananas and so on.Apple bananas have a unique taste. The Hawaiian was also a bit of a disappointment.I once imagined them as creations of beauty.At first, the pungent cocoa butter smell of the girls put me off, and many of the girls were not pretty.The hearty, steaming stew was even more unexpected.I always thought that Polynesians lived on all kinds of delicious berries, but the way they gobbled up their beef stew surprised me. The holidays are coming to an end, and we all sigh at the thought of being overwhelmed by work again.Travel expenses are also a little worrying for us.Honolulu is an expensive place, eating and drinking is twice as expensive as expected.Renting surfboards, tipping hired children—everything costs money.So far we've gotten by.But it's time to think about the future.We're going to Canada too, and Archie's thousand pounds are going fast.The fare has been paid.So don't worry too much.It is not a problem for me to go to Canada and go back to the UK, but I have not paid for my travel and living expenses in Canada, what should I do?But we put it to the back of our minds and continued surfing desperately, just getting carried away. At this time, I was aware of the pain in my neck and shoulders.Every morning around five o'clock, my right arm hurts so badly that it is difficult for me to fall asleep again.I suffered from neuritis, which lasted three or four weeks in almost unbearable pain. When Belcher saw us, he showed no mercy.He seemed envious of our holiday.Every time we go out, he says, "Walking around, not doing anything. Gosh, it's not okay to travel this way, always paying people to do nothing!" And he is having a great time in New Zealand with his friends Difficult to part but never said a word. We agreed that I would give up my trip to Nova Scotia and Labrador, and as soon as the money ran out I would go to New York.At that time, I went to live with Aunt Cathy or Aunt May, and Archie and Belcher went to inspect Silver Fox. I think it was in Winnipeg when Archie followed Belcher to see the High Granary.We should have known that people with impotence should not go near the high granary, but neither of us could have imagined that.When he came back that day, he had tears in his eyes and a sick look on his face, which made me panic.The next day he made his way to Toronto by force, and there he lay down, and it was impossible for him to continue his journey. After another four or five days, Archie was back to health, though still a little weak. We found the hated Belcher.I remember probably going to Ottawa, it was autumn, and the maple leaves were golden.We lodged with a middle-aged sea captain, a charming man with a lovely Alsatian dog.He once took me to the maple grove in a dog cart. Leaving Ottawa, we went to the Rocky Mountains, Lake Louise and Banff.Whenever I ask where is the most beautiful place I have ever seen, I always answer Lake Louise, a wide, slender, blue lake, low hills on both sides, mountains follow the water, the scenery is spectacular, and the snow-capped mountains are everywhere Connected from afar.In Banff, I had my luck.Still suffering from neuritis, I decided to try the hot spring water that many people say is good for it.I take a bath in the hot spring every morning. The place is like a swimming pool. When I walk to one end, I can feel the sulfur-smelling spring water gushing from the hot spring.I let the water wash over my neck and shoulders.To my delight, the symptoms of neuritis disappeared on the fourth day, and I was completely cured.Getting rid of my illness made me happy again. Then Archie and I went to Montreal.We split up again: Archie went with Belcher to inspect some silver fox farms, and I took the train south to New York.By this time I was penniless. Dear Aunt Cathy is picking me up in New York.She treated me kindly, lovingly, and kindly. I lived with her in her flat on Rifside Street.She was old then—nearly eighty, I reckon.She took me to see the younger generation of her sister-in-law Pierpont Morgan's family, and took me to a fancy restaurant for a delicious meal.She talked about my father and his first days in New York.I had a great time.Before I left, Aunt Cassie asked me what my parting wishes were, and I told her I was eager for a meal in the cafeteria.The British don't know anything about cafeterias, I just read about them in New York and wanted to try them.Aunt Cathy thought it an unusual wish.She couldn't imagine anyone wanting to go to the cafeteria, but since she wanted to please me, she took me there.She said that it was her first time to go to a cafeteria and pick dishes from the counter. I found this experience fresh and interesting. The day finally arrives to meet Archie and Belcher in New York.I was looking forward to their arrival, because although Aunt Cathy was kind to me, I still felt like a bird in a golden cage.It never occurred to Aunt Cathy to let me go for a walk by myself.This was unusual for me, who was used to wandering around London, and I was stuck restless. Archie and Belcher spent the night in New York, and the next day we boarded the Berengaria for England.I can't say I'm getting used to traveling by boat again, but this time I'm only slightly seasick.The sudden change of weather came at an inopportune time, for we were playing bridge and Belcher insisted on my partner, which I was reluctant to do because, though he played well, he looked sullen when he lost.I was going to break up after a few rounds, so I played with him as a partner.Unexpectedly, they played until the last game.The sea breeze was blowing that day, and the ship was bumping back and forth.I didn't dare to think about quitting halfway, the only hope was not to make a fool of myself at the poker table.It may have been the last hand, when Belcher suddenly yelled and threw the cards on the table when the cards were dealt. "It's lost," he said, "It's lost!" he swore.I estimate that if there is any more unhappiness, he will have a showdown and admit defeat, and let the opponent win the game easily.However, I have a good temper full of hands.My card skills are terrible, but I can't afford to lose.I played bad cards, forgot trumps, and did all I could with sea-sick bouts of nausea—but I was lucky.We finally won this game.Then I went back to the cabin, moaning bleakly until I reached England. 2 Returning home was supposed to be the beginning of a happy reunion life, but reality shattered this dream.We are penniless.Archie's work for Mr. Goldstein was a thing of the past, and his place had been taken by another young man.Of course, I still have the income I can draw from my grandfather's inheritance, and we can live on this hundred pounds annuity.But Archie would not dip into his savings.He had to get a job, and the sooner the better, before paying the rent, the nanny's commission, and the weekly food bill.Finding a job was not easy—even harder, in fact, than it was right after the war.Fortunately, my memory of those difficult days has faded now.I just remember being miserable because Archie was always looking down, and he wasn't the type to suffer.He himself knew it too.I remember him warning me when we were just married, "Remember, I'm not perfect. If things go wrong, I'll be helpless. I don't like curmudgeons. I don't like people who are unhappy and sluggish. " We know we are taking risks, and we can be content to try our chances.All we can do is admit the reality: the days of enjoyment are over, and it's time to pay with anxiety and frustration.I felt helpless, too, because I couldn't help Archie.I told myself to get through it together.I suffered from his daily grumpiness or reticence and melancholy from the beginning.If I wanted to be happy, he said I was indifferent to serious situations; Finally, Archie said noncommittally, "Well, I think the only thing you can do is get out of here." "Get out of here quickly? Where are you going?" "Don't know. Go to Jonkey's—she'll welcome you and Rosalind. Or go home to your mother." "But, Archie, I want to stay with you; I want to share our troubles—can't we? Can't we share our troubles together? Can't I do something?" Now maybe I'll say, "I'll go Find a job." However, in 1923 it was impossible to even talk about finding a job.There were women in World War I who aided the Air Force, or found work in munitions factories and hospitals.But these are temporary; government departments do not recruit women staff.Stores are overworked.But I still stick to my point of view and do not agree to leave.I can at least wash and cook.We quit the servants. I said very little and kept Archie alone, which seemed to be the only way I could help him. He travels to and from financial institutions, meeting everyone who might know where an employee is needed.Finally he found a job, though not very satisfying. I try to calm down and write something, because I think it's a little bit of money to do so.I didn't want to write for a living yet.I was inspired by short stories published in Essays; that kind of money is real.The rights to those short stories were bought, the money was paid, and the money was spent.I sat down and started writing another book. Before traveling the world, we went to eat at Belcher's.He once encouraged me to write a detective novel set in his home, Mill Park, "The Mystery of Mill Park, that's a pretty good title. What do you think?" I agreed and said "Mystery of Mill Park" or " Murder at Mill Manor is a good subject, and I will consider his suggestion.As he traveled the world, he often talked about it. "I tell you, if you write The Mystery of Mill Park, you must include me," he said. "I don't think I can write you in. I can't do anything about real people and real things. The characters in the book can only be created by imagination." I answered him. "Nonsense, I don't care if I look like me, but I just want to be a part in a detective story." From time to time he asked: "Have you started with that book? Is it me?" Once, when we said we were annoyed, I said: "There is you. You are a wronged ghost." "What? You say I'm the murdered guy?" "Yes." I said, amused in my heart. "I don't want to be a wrongdoer," Belcher said, "I don't want to be a wrongdoer—I want to be a murderer." "Why do you want to be a murderer?" "Because a murderer is always the most interesting character in a book. You've got to make me a murderer. Agatha—understand?" "I see you want to be a murderer," I said in a stutter.In the end, I compromised temporarily and agreed to write him as a murderer. While in South Africa, I conceived the plot.I made up my mind to write more of a thriller than a detective story again, and it included a lot of descriptions of South African landscapes.When we arrived in South Africa, which was facing the crisis of revolution, I wrote down some useful details.I pictured my heroine as a cheerful, adventurous young girl, orphaned, away from home for adventure. I tried to write it—two chapters later, and found it extremely difficult to tell a compelling story around Belcher.Writing about him is always subjective and makes him a complete idiot.Suddenly an idea popped into my mind. This book is written in the first person, with the heroine Anna and the villain Belcher taking turns telling the story. "I'm sure he doesn't want to be a villain," I asked Archie suspiciously. "Give him a title," suggested Archie, "I think he'll like it." So he was named Sir Eustace Pedler, and once I asked Eustace-Sir Pedler to tell his story, the character came to life.Of course he was not Belcher, but Belcher's catchphrase was mixed in his speech.Telling some of Belcher's experiences, he is also good at blowing mustache and staring, and the book brings to life a arrogant and interesting character.Soon I forgot about Belcher, as if Sir Eustace Pedler was writing a novel himself.This is probably the only time I have included people I know well in a book, and I don't think it was successful.Belcher did not come to life, but the man called Sir Eustace Pedler was brought to life.I suddenly found the writing of this book full of joy. The main obstacle in writing the book came from Rosalind's nanny Cuckoo.Cuckoo, like other nannies at the time, took it for granted that he did not do housework, cooking or washing clothes.She's just the babysitter; cleaning the nursery, doing the laundry for the little ones, that's all.Of course, I didn't hold out much hope, and I properly arranged my daily life.Archie came home in the evening, and Rosalind and Cuckoo had a simple and easy lunch.I have time to arrange two or three hours of writing in the morning and afternoon.Cuckoo and Rosalind went to the park or went shopping.However, when it was rainy, they stayed at home, even though they told her that I was working, Cuckoo was not very obedient.She used to stand at the door of my writing room, talking to herself, apparently speaking to Rosalind. Cuckoo and I have always disagreed on Rosalind's childhood.We buy second hand.It was a decent buggy, and it was comfortable; it just couldn't be called pretty.I heard that baby carriages are also redesigned. Every two years, manufacturers introduce a new model with a different shape, much like today's cars. I later learned that Cuckoo used to go to Kensington Gardens and meet other nursemaids with their young masters, where they sat together and compared each other's affluence and the beauty and intelligence of their young masters. The child should dress up beautifully and wear the popular children's clothes at that time, otherwise the nanny will be embarrassed.no problem.Rosalind's dress fit the bill.The coats and tops I made for her in Canada were the latest in children's clothing.But when it comes to baby carriages, the one pushed by poor Cuckoo is very inferior. She always tells me that there is a new baby carriage, "any babysitter is proud to have a baby carriage like that!" Not tempted by it.We were too hard-pressed to spend a fortune on a new-style stroller just to gratify the cuckoo's vanity. "I even think it's dangerous to sit on that car," Cuckoo made a last effort, "the screws always fall off." "It's going up and down the sidewalk a lot, and you didn't screw it on before you went out. I'm not buying a new stroller anyway." With that, I went inside and slammed the door shut. "Honey, darling, Mommy seems mad, doesn't she? Well then, poor baby, it doesn't look like we're going to have a new car, is it?" said Cuckoo. 3 Despite the interference of Cuckoo bluffing outside the door, "The Mystery of Mill Manor" finally came out of the draft.Poor cuckoo!Soon, she went to see a doctor, was admitted to the hospital, and had a mastectomy. I made up my mind not to hire a babysitter from a babysitting agency or anything like that.I needed someone who could do it all, so I put up a housekeeper wanted. From the moment Seth came into our house our luck seemed to improve. We met in Devonshire and Dorset.She was a tall, strong girl, with high breasts, a full hip, black hair, and a flushed face.She has a contralto voice and speaks with a special lady-like accent, which even makes people feel like an actor in a play is reciting lines.She had been housekeeper in two or three families for a few years, and she seemed competent when it came to babysitting.She seemed good-natured, soft-tempered, and enthusiastic.She doesn't have high salary requirements, and as the job advertisement says, she can go anywhere and do whatever she wants.So Seth returned to London with us and became a good helper in my life. After I finished writing The Mystery of Mill Park, I breathed a sigh of relief.This is not an easy book, and I don't think it's coherent until I put down the pen.But it was over, and it was over with old Eustace Pedler and all.Bodley Press hesitated for a while.They point out that it's not like Mystery on the Golf Course, which is a pure detective novel.But they still accepted it tolerantly. Only then did I notice a slight change in their attitude.When I submitted my first book for publication, I was not yet able to understand this, and my mind was not flexible, but I have become more or less enlightened.I'm not as stupid as many people think.I learned many mysteries about writing and publishing.I learned about the Authors Guild and read their publications.I know to be extremely cautious when dealing with publishers, especially with certain publishers.I've heard that publishers devise ways to take advantage of authors.Once I had mastered these facts, I made my own plans. Shortly before the publication of The Mystery of Mill Park, certain comments were made by Bodleian Press.They suggested that the contract be annulled and another publishing contract for five books be signed.The terms of this contract are much more generous.I politely thanked them and said I'd have to think about it.It was subsequently rejected without giving a reason.In my opinion, they treat young authors unfairly.They always took advantage of his inexperience and eagerness to publish.I'm not actively arguing with them on this issue - I've done stupid things like this before.Anyone who doesn't know a little bit about the inside story of fair work pay will do stupid things.Besides, I've learned to be wise, would I turn down the chance to publish The Mysterious Case of Stiles?I don't think so.I will still publish the book on their original terms, but will not agree to another long-term multi-book contract.If you trust someone and are deceived, you won't trust him again.This is human nature.I hope to honor the contract, but I will definitely find another publisher in the future.At the same time, I think I have my own copyright agent. It was probably at this time that the Income Tax Office sent a letter.They want to know the details of my creative income.I was taken aback.I never considered my creative income to be a regular income.我所有的固定收入不过是来自为战争贷款的两千英镑而得到的每年一百英镑的利息。他们说这些都了解，可是仍要了解出版书籍的所得。糟糕的是我无法提供详情——我手头没有寄给我的版税单据（我记不起他们是否曾寄给我）。我只是偶尔收到一张支票。可我一般当时就兑现花掉。然而我仍尽量地解释清楚。当地税务所看来觉得这挺有趣，不过建议我今后要妥善保管单据。直到这时，我才决定一定要有自己的著作权代理人。 对这些著作权代理人的事我知之甚少，因此，我想最好再去找伊登·菲尔波茨原来推荐的人——休斯·梅西。我去了老地方。主人不是休斯·梅西——显然，他去世了——接待我的是略有些口吃、名叫埃德蒙·科克的年轻人。他毫不像休斯·梅西那样好危言耸听——事实上，和他交谈很轻松。对我的无知他很得体地表示震惊，并愿意今后给我以指导。他给我讲了他的委托权限和连载权、在美国出版书籍、剧本改编权等以及其他诸多难以置信的事（至少在我看来如此）。他的话给我留下了极深的印象。我无保留地委托他处理一切，离开了他的办公室，我才松了一口气，如释重负。 从那以后，我们开始了持续了四十多年的友谊。 随后，发生了一件令人难以相信的事。《新闻晚报》为连载《米尔庄园的秘密》付给了我五百英镑。连载改动较大。我另定书名为，因为前一书名与《高尔夫球场的谋杀案》太相似了，《新闻晚报》建议再改一下。他们要改为《女冒险家安娜》——闻所未闻的俗气书名；尽管如此，我没表示异议，因为他们毕竟要付给我五百英镑，而且，我可能对书名有些看法，但是读者是不会理睬报纸上连载小说的题目的。简直运气从天而降，我都不敢相信，阿尔奇也是一样，宠基也是如此。妈妈当然相信：她的哪个女儿都能轻而易举地在《新闻晚报》连载小说，感到五百英镑——这没什么可大惊小怪的。 生活的固定模式似乎永远是祸不单行，福亦双双。《新闻晚报》刚刚给我带来了好运气，阿尔奇又时来运转。他接到一封名叫克利夫·贝利叶的澳大利亚朋友的来信，贝利叶早就建议阿尔奇去他的公司。阿尔奇去见他，这个朋友结了阿尔奇一份他多年来孜孜以求的工作。阿尔奇辞退了手头的工作，去了克利夫·贝利叶的公司。他立刻感到那里极为称心。终于能兴趣盎然地磊落地干事业了，再也不用尔虞我诈，而且可以堂堂正正地进入金融界了。我俩像进了天堂一样。 我立刻着手落实我盼望已久而阿尔奇对此无所谓的设想。我们要在乡下找所住处，阿尔奇可以每天进城上班，罗莎琳德可以去花园的草坪上玩耍，而不用推着她去公园或把她限制在公寓之间的绿地上。我渴望着到乡下住，我们决定一旦找到一所便宜的房子就搬家。 我觉得阿尔奇之所以同意我的计划主要是由于他迷上了高尔夫球。他前不久被选入森尼代尔高尔夫球俱乐部。周末一起乘火车出游或远足旅行已变得乏味。他一心想着高尔夫球。他在森尼代尔与各式各样的朋友打高尔夫球，对场面小的高尔夫球不屑一顾。他对与像我这样蹩脚的运动员打球更是毫无兴趣。于是，虽然并没意识到，我渐渐地成了那种人人皆知的人物——一个被高尔夫球夺去丈夫的寡妇。 “我对住在乡下毫不在乎，”阿尔奇说，“我想我对此倒极为乐意，当然对罗莎琳德也有好处，赛特也喜欢乡下，我知道你也一样。那么，我们只有惟一可有的选择了，这就是森尼代尔。” “森尼代尔？”我稍有些沮丧说，因为森尼代尔不完全是我说的乡下。“可是那儿的花费太大．是富人居住区。” “噢，我希望能想想办法。”阿尔奇乐观地说。 一两天后，他问我打算怎样花《新闻晚报》的钱。“那是一大笔钱，”我说，“我考虑……”我承认说话时有些勉强，缺乏信心，“我考虑应该把它存起来以备急需之用。” “噢，我想现在不用那么操心。和贝利叶一起干，我会一帆风顺的，你呢，也能继续从事你的写作。” “是这样，”我说，“可能我会花掉这笔钱——或花一部分。”一件新的夜礼服。一双金黄或银白色的鞋替换那双黑色的，然后是给罗莎琳德买辆精巧的自行车之类的奢侈品......阿尔奇的声音打断了我的遐想。“为什么不买辆轿车？”他问。 “买辆轿车？”我诧异地望着他。我从没有过买辆轿车的奢望。我所认识的朋友都没有汽车。我的观念中，汽车仍是为富人准备的。它们以每小时二十、三十、四十、五十英里的速度飞驰而过，车内坐着戴绸面罩礼帽的人，奔向不可向迩之地。“轿车？”我重复着，表情呆若木鸡。 "Why not?" 真是的？这事准能办成。我，阿加莎，会有一辆轿车，一辆自己的轿车。坦白地说，一生中最使我激动不已的有两件事、一是我自己的轿车，那辆灰色的大鼻子莫里斯·柯雷牌汽车。 第二件是大约四十年后在白金汉宫和女王共进午餐。 这两次经历都有些像童话一般。这些都是我觉得绝不会降临到我头上的事，拥有自家的轿车，与英国女王共进午餐。