Chapter 4 Human nature is unpredictable

I only come to Rome during the off season.I come here every August or September from different places.Every time I come here, I have to go to familiar places and visit art galleries.I have an affinity for these places and these paintings, they remind me of happy times in the past. The weather is very hot in this season. During the day, many local residents can be seen wandering around on Kaso Street to kill time.The National Cafe was even more crowded.People sit at small tables that have long since run out of coffee mugs and can still sit there for hours.In the Sistine Chapel, you can see a blond, tanned German.Wearing knickerbockers, open-collared shirts and rucksacks, they trek along dusty Italian roads.In St. Peter's Basilica, you can see small groups of devout pilgrims, weary but with excited eyes.They were strictly pilgrims, coming from some distant country.These people are usually led by a missionary and speak all kinds of exotic languages.

The Plaza Hotel is cool and quiet this season.The public places are spacious, dark and quiet.During tea time, there was only a young and handsome officer and a woman with beautiful eyes in the rest hall.They were talking in low tones, intimately, as they drank iced lemonade.They spoke a foreign language very fast, and they chatted endlessly.I went upstairs to my room, read, wrote.Came downstairs again two hours later.The two young men were still chatting there.A few guests wander into the restaurant before dinner, but at other times it is empty.Therefore, the waiters in the restaurant are very idle.He'll talk to you, tell you about his mother's Swedishness, tell you about his own experiences in New York.I chatted with him about life and love, and the expensive cost of drinking, and so on.

In this season, I feel like this hotel is literally made for me.When the waiter in the reception hall ushered me into my room, he told me that the hotel was almost fully booked.But when I washed and changed my clothes and re-entered the reception hall, the elevator attendant (an old acquaintance of mine) told me that there were only a dozen guests in the hotel.I am very tired after a long journey across Italy in this hot season.I decided to just have a quiet dinner in the hotel and go to bed early.When I walked into the spacious dining room, it was brightly lit and it had been a while since dinner had been served.But only three or four tables were occupied.I looked around with satisfaction.In a big city that I am very familiar with, it is really a very pleasant thing to find such a place where I can stay quietly, and to live in such an empty hotel.It allows you to enjoy the feeling of freedom.I felt a kind of spiritual relaxation, and my heart seemed to be flying.I lingered in the restaurant for ten minutes, drank a dry martini, and then ordered a bottle of high-end red wine.Although I was exhausted, I was in good spirits and had a strong appetite.I began to experience a very pleasant feeling.While eating fish and soup, I was thinking about all kinds of good things.My brain is very excited.When I think of the characters in a novel I am writing, my creative inspiration spews out, and a long dialogue between these characters immediately comes to mind.I read a sentence, tasted it, and felt that it tasted better than this bottle of red wine.I began to think about how to describe the appearance of the characters in the book.It is really difficult for readers to go through these descriptions as if they have seen these characters with their own eyes like I did.For me, this is the hardest thing about writing a novel.After you have described the appearance of a character in the novel in detail, what impression will readers have of this person?I don't know anything about it.The countermeasures taken by some authors are to grasp the main features of the characters' appearance, such as sly smiles, evasive eyes, etc., and focus on describing these features, which effectively avoids difficulties, but does not solve the problem.I looked around to see how I could describe the guests at the adjacent tables.There was a man sitting alone at the table directly across from me.In order to practice my hand, I began to think about how to describe him.He was a tall, lanky man, and words like "very flexible" are generally used to describe people of his type.He was wearing a tuxedo and a starched shirt.His face was a bit long and his eyes were gray.His hair was naturally curly and beautiful, but it was thinning a bit.The noble forehead was exposed due to the hair loss at the temples.There was nothing special about his appearance.His mouth and nose are no different from those of ordinary people, his beard is clean-shaven, his skin is naturally fair, but now he is tanned.Judging from his appearance, he should be an ordinary intellectual.He looked like a lawyer, or a college instructor who played beautiful golf.I feel he should have good taste, be a well-read man, and be a very pleasant guest at Chelsea lunches.But the terrible thing is that you can only describe him in a few sentences, let the reader see a vivid and interesting character, and form an accurate image in the reader's mind, and this image cannot be imagined by myself.Perhaps it is best to describe only the character of the man and omit the rest of his physical appearance.Although this method is getting tired, it still describes the most definite impression that this person leaves on you.I looked at him, lost in thought.Suddenly, he leaned forward and bowed slightly to me.Although this action is a bit stiff, it is still very polite.I have a ridiculous habit of blushing when I'm taken aback.Now I feel myself blushing again.I was surprised because I just stared at him for several minutes, as if he were a dummy.He must have thought me a very rude person.I nodded in embarrassment and looked away.Fortunately, at this point the waiter came and handed me a plate.I really don't think I've ever seen this guy before.I asked myself in my heart, when he bowed to me, was it because I stared at him for a long time that he had the illusion that he had seen me somewhere before, or did I really see him somewhere , and then forget about it?I'm not good at remembering other people's faces.It's the same this time, he looks too ordinary, without any clear features.On any sunny Sunday you'd see a dozen of his looks on all the golf courses in London.

He finished his meal before me.He stood up and stopped when he came to the table where I was sitting.He held out his hand to me. "Good day!" he said, "I did not recognize you when you first came in. I did not mean to slight you." He spoke in a pleasant voice, with a tone cultivated at Oxford and emulated by many who never went to the university.Obviously he knew me, and it didn't occur to me that I didn't know him.I stood up hurriedly.But he was much taller than me, so he could only look down at me.There was a kind of lethargy about him, and he was slightly hunched, which gave me the feeling that he was a little apologetic.His demeanor felt condescending and shy at the same time.

"Could you come over and have a cup of coffee with me later?" he said. "I'm all by myself." "Okay, I'm happy to go." He walks away.But I still can't remember who he is or where I've seen him.I noticed something very strange about him.I hadn't noticed it when we shook hands and had a brief conversation, not even after he nodded and left.But when a suspicious smile formed on his face, I noticed.After observing him closely, I feel that he is a handsome man with his own characteristics.He had well-proportioned features, fine gray eyes, and a slender figure.But his behavior is not interesting.A silly woman might say he looks romantic.He resembled a knight in a Burne-Jones painting.Of course he was much taller than the knights in the painting, and this description does not mean that he suffered from chronic colitis like the unfortunate figures in the painting.You might imagine that a guy like him would be handsome in high-end clothes, but when you see him in such clothes, you think he looks ridiculous.

I finished my meal and went into the lounge.He was seated in a large armchair, and seeing me, he summoned the attendant.I sit down.A waiter came and ordered coffee and liqueur for after dinner.He speaks Italian very well.I wondered how I could find out who he was without hurting his ego.The average person takes himself very seriously, and is extremely disturbed if he finds himself insignificant in the eyes of others.His fluent Italian reminded me that I knew who he was and that I didn't like him.His name was Humphrey Carruthers.He works in the British Foreign Office and may have some real power.He's the head of a department whose name I don't know.He has close ties to many embassy personnel.I guess his stay in Rome has something to do with his fluent Italian.I was foolish for not seeing right away that his career had anything to do with diplomacy.He had the air of a diplomat about him.He was polite and very arrogant at the same time.This attitude was carefully designed to offend the average person, to make others realize that he was a diplomat and not the average person in this nonchalant way.But he occasionally appears shy when he feels uneasy, so that his arrogance is not easily seen by others.I've known Carruthers for many years but haven't had much interaction with him.That is, I said hello to him at the dinner party, and he gave me a cold nod at the theater.Most people think that he is very smart and well-educated, and his conversation is very decent.I made an unforgivable mistake in not remembering him, since he has become quite famous as a short story writer of late.From time to time a magazine of some kind is established by well-meaning souls, in order to provide something worth reading to a more sensible reader.His short stories were first published in such magazines.Once the owners of these magazines are short of money, these magazines will cease publication.Although the circulation of such magazines is not large, they are well-typed and beautifully printed, and the works published on them often attract a certain amount of attention.These works will then be organized into books and published.The release of these books often creates a sensation.I seldom read the stereotyped praise for such books in the weekly papers.Most weekly newspapers devote an entire page to a new book. The Times Literary Supplement's review of such books is not placed in the general fiction column, but it is placed side by side with the review of the autobiography of a famous statesman.Literary critics called Humphrey Carruthers a rising star in the circle.They praised his writing for its distinctiveness, delicacy, subtle irony, and insight; they praised his writing style and tone, and praised his taste.The final verdict is that he has raised the English-speaking world's short stories to a level, and he should be proud of his work.His short stories are quite comparable to the best of this kind from Finland, Russia and Czechoslovakia.

Three years later Humphrey Carruthers published his second book.Critics were more than happy with the time gap, praising him for "not selling his talents for money." The book's reception may not have been as enthusiastic as his first book, and it will take a while for critics to come to terms with it. Organizes thoughts, but enough to make ordinary writers who write for a living feel euphoric.His place in the literary world was undoubtedly confirmed, and his own fame rose.One of his most acclaimed short stories is called "Shaving Cloth".The best literary critics agree that the author of this book, in only three or four pages, has captured the beauty of the soul of the tragic figure of a barber's assistant, which is really a good work.

But he is best known for "The Weekend," his longest novel.The title of the novel also became the title of his first book.This novel describes the adventures of some people.They boarded from Paddington station on a Saturday afternoon and took the train to Tepley to meet friends.They then returned to London on Monday morning.The plot of the story is very subtle, and it takes a lot of thinking to know what the story is about.The protagonist of this novel is a young man who rises from parliamentary secretary to cabinet minister.In the novel he comes close to proposing to the daughter of a baronet, but ultimately fails to do so.In this novel, there is such a plot: There are two or three people sitting in a flat-bottomed flat-bottomed boat, and they are playing on the river.They had a lively discussion among themselves in obscure language.But what they said was half-words, very subtle, with lots of dashes and ellipses.The novel spends a lot of time describing the flowers in the garden and the subtle scenery of the Thames in the rain.These are described from the perspective of a German governess.All reviews agree that Carruthers' description of the landscape through the eyes of such a character is humorous and pleasant to read.

I have read both books by Humphrey Carruthers.I think the author is writing fiction as part of his main business, so that he can better understand what people are writing about in his generation.I am also very willing to learn, and I think I can find something useful for me in these two books.But after reading it I was disappointed.I like novels that have a beginning, middle and end, and I like to read stories that have a clear plot.I think atmosphere is very important, but atmosphere without content is like a frame without painting, so it lacks meaning.But maybe it's my own flaw that doesn't see the strength of Humphrey Carruthers' work.If I think poorly of his two books, it may be because my vanity has been hurt.For I know very well that, in the eyes of Humphrey Carruthers, I am a worthless writer.I believe he never read anything I wrote.The popularity I enjoyed was enough to convince him that he didn't need to pay attention to me.He himself caused a sensation for a time, and my reputation now seemed to belong to him, but his elegant writings were incomprehensible to ordinary readers, and he soon disappeared.Although one cannot say exactly how many people belong to the circle of intellectuals, one can know exactly how many people are willing to buy his books with their pockets to show their love for his works.When an excellent play is released, the theater is always crowded, and the box office revenue soars; to verify whether a book is popular with readers, it depends on whether the sales volume of this book to ordinary readers exceeds 1,200 copies.Although intellectuals appreciate beauty, they often only watch free plays or borrow books from the library.

I believe the experience did not pain Humphrey Carruthers.He is both an artist and a staff member of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.He is well-known as a writer, and he doesn't care much about worldly things.His book could also damage his career if it oversells.I couldn't guess what his purpose in inviting me to have coffee with him was.He was undoubtedly a lonely man, but I should have imagined that he would not feel alone if he had a full head for company.I am sure he would have little interest in what I had to say, he did not invite me for that purpose.Yet I found him depressed and as courteous as he could be.I remembered the last time we met.We were also talking for a while about a friend we both knew who lived in London.He asked me what I was doing in Rome at such a season, and I told him so.He volunteered to tell me that he had only arrived here this morning from Brindisi.We were not at all comfortable talking.I had made up my mind, and after a few more words of politeness, I got up and left him.But now I have a strange feeling again, I don't know how this feeling came about, that is, he seems to have known my thoughts, and anxiously tried every means to prevent me from leaving.I felt so sudden that I couldn't help becoming alert.I noticed that whenever I paused for a moment, he immediately interrupted with a new topic.He's trying to find some topic that interests me so I'll sit down.He tried his best to appear amiable.Feeling alone was certainly not why he did it.With his diplomatic connections, he must know a lot of people with whom he could spend his evenings.I wonder why he didn't go to the embassy for dinner.Even in summer, there must be some acquaintances of his in the British embassy.I also noticed that he didn't smile all the time.His voice was distorted by his impatience, as if he feared a moment of silence.His voice seemed to be free of his brain, as if something was tormenting him inside.This is so weird.Although I don't like him, I'm not interested in him, and I even hate being with him, but I still have a little curiosity about him against my will.I glanced at him inquiringly.Well-groomed and courteous as he was, I saw in his gray eyes the fearful expression of a dog driven into a corner.His face was distorted, as if he could read the pain in his heart.I really don't get it.All kinds of ridiculous thoughts can't help but pop up in my mind.I'm such a lack of empathy.I was like a battle-hardened old horse smelling the smell of gunpowder again, and I immediately regained my spirits.I've been feeling pretty tired today, but now my tiredness is gone.My nervous system is hypersensitive now, and I'm suddenly able to notice every expression on his face and every gesture he makes.I thought he had called me over, maybe he was writing a play and wanted my opinion.But I quickly dismissed the idea.Refined gentlemen of their class have a very curious fascination for the theatrical stage.Although they are very arrogant and extremely despise the skills of stage technicians, they are not opposed to listening to their opinions occasionally.But this is not the case now.A man alone in Rome with an ascetic orientation could easily fall into a state of restlessness.I wondered if Carruthers was in some kind of predicament, and he was very reluctant to turn to the British embassy for help.I've noticed that idealists can sometimes be quite reckless in their approach to sexual hunger.They sometimes go to some shady places to relieve their sexual depression, but these places are visited by the police from time to time, which is troublesome.I couldn't help snickering in my heart.A Taoist master was caught in an ambiguous place, even a god would laugh.Suddenly, Carruthers said something that shocked me.

"I'm extremely depressed right now." He muttered softly. There was no sign of it before he said this.Obviously this is what he has in mind.His voice choked with sobs as he said it, as if he was about to cry.Hearing his words, I can't describe my shock at the moment in words.I feel like I'm walking around a street corner and suddenly there's a gust of wind blowing in your face that takes you by surprise and almost blows you away.I never thought he would say that.After all, we didn't know each other at all, nor were we friends.I don't like him, and he doesn't like me either.I never thought of him as a kind person.It is shocking that a man with such strong self-control, a gentle gentleman, and a diplomat who is familiar with the customs of civilized society, would break down to speak such candid words to a stranger!I am not a talkative person by nature.No matter how much pain I have inside, I don't show it to other people, and I'm ashamed of it.I shuddered a little.His weakness pissed me off.For a moment I was filled with anger.How could he pour out the pain in his heart to me?I almost shouted: "Damn it. What does it have to do with me?" But I swallowed the words.Now he was curled up in the big armchair.His serious, dignified face reminded me of a marble statue of a Victorian statesman, a face with loose muscles and eerily wrinkled skin.He looked like he was about to cry.I didn't know what to say, and my voice trembled a little.I usually blush when I speak, but now I feel my face turn pale.He is a man to be pitied. "I'm so sorry," I said. "Do you mind if I tell you about my troubles?" "I do not mind." Now he fell silent.I guess Carruthers was a little over forty.He was well-proportioned and athletic, with a confident demeanor.He looked twenty years older now, and oddly shrunk in stature.He reminds me of soldiers who died on the battlefield.I have often seen their corpses on the battlefields of World War I, and it is strange that their bodies shrink after death.Embarrassed, I looked away.But I felt his gaze beckoning me, so I turned my gaze to him again. "Do you know Betty Wheelon Burns?" he asked me. "I used to run into her in London a few years ago. Haven't seen her lately." "Oh?" He seemed hesitant. "If I tell you this, I think you'll think I'm a very strange person. I can't keep these words in my stomach. If I don't say them, I'm going to have a nervous breakdown." Besides coffee, he had ordered two glasses of brandy.Now he called the waiter again and asked him to bring another glass.It's just the two of us in the lounge right now.There was a small lamp with a shade on the table between us.Since this is a public place, he lowered his voice.It's strange how close this place can be.Here I cannot repeat what Carruthers said, and it is impossible for me to set them all down.It is more convenient to use my expression habits to tell what he said.Sometimes it is impossible to know exactly what he means from his words, I can only guess what he thinks.Sometimes he was wrong and somehow I could see it better than he could.Betty Wheelon Burns had an extraordinary sense of humor, and he was a man who didn't know humor.I could sense that there was nothing humorous about his account. I've met Betty Wheelon Burns many times, but most of what I know about her comes from other people's reviews.In her youth she had made little London buzz, and I had often heard of her before I met her in person.I first met her at a ball in Portland Square shortly after the war.She was at the time when she was very popular and famous.If you opened any illustrated newspaper, you were sure to see her likeness; and her insane pranks were the subject of conversation.She was twenty-four at the time, and her mother had died.Her father was the Duke of Cornwall.The Duke was old at the time and his family was not very well off, so he basically lived in his Cornwall castle.And Betty Wheelon Burns lived in London with a widowed aunt.She went to France when the war broke out, at the age of eighteen.She was a nurse at a rear hospital and was also responsible for driving an ambulance.She has participated in a performance of a war field art troupe; in China, she has also participated in stage performances for charity fundraising, held auction activities for charity fundraising, and sold flags on Piccadilly Avenue.All of her events were widely covered by the press, and each new role she took on attracted countless cameras.I guess she was desperate to live a decent life for herself.But the war was over by this time, and she began to indulge herself to the extreme.Everyone was a little overwhelmed at the time.The young people have unloaded the burden that has been on their shoulders for five years, and finally they can indulge themselves to do one extraordinary thing after another.And all these escapades involved Betty.Their activities also appeared in the newspapers from time to time, and each time Betty's name appeared in the headlines of the reports.At that time, nightclubs had just emerged, and she would haunt nightclubs every night.Her life was both hectic and joyous.These are the only banal terms to describe her life, because her life has become corrupted.But what is puzzling is that the British public actually regarded her as the core of public life, and Ms. Betty's name became popular all over the British Isles.When she attended a wedding, women surrounded her; when she attended the opening act of a play, the audience cheered her as if she were a star on the stage.Girls imitated her hairdos, and manufacturers of laundry and cosmetic products paid her to be their face. Of course, there are also many people who like the old-fashioned and boring life.They miss their old way of life and hate Betty.They scoffed at the fact that Betty had managed to stay in the limelight.They said this woman was crazy about self-promotion, they said she was a loose woman, they said this woman was an alcoholic, they said she was a heavy smoker.I have to admit, based on what I've heard, I don't have a good impression of her.I despise this type of woman.They saw the war as an opportunity for their own enjoyment and fame.I resent the newspapers that always publish pictures of people in society walking in Cannes or playing golf at Saint-Andre.I've always thought that "promising young people" is actually very boring.Their happy lives appear dull and foolish to outsiders.But it is morally unwise to jump to conclusions about them.Getting mad at such young people is like getting mad at a litter of puppies chasing and fighting each other.If the pack of puppies messes up the garden, or breaks a piece of china, the best thing to do is to be patient.Don't be surprised if a puppy falls into the water and drowns, the others will grow up to be well behaved dogs.The reason why their behavior is difficult to control is mainly due to the excess energy of young people. Exuberant energy is also the most shining characteristic of Betty.There is energy all over her, a blazing fire of life that will dazzle you.Ever since I saw her for the first time at a party, the impression she left on me will never be erased in my life.She was like a priestess of Bacchus.She dances so deeply, so lost in the music and the movement of her young body, that you can't stop laughing at the way she dances.Her hair was brown, slightly tousled with the vibrancy that radiated about her.Her eyes were dark blue, and her skin was fair and rosy.She is a great beauty, but she does not have the coldness that is unique to great beauties.She is always laughing.Even when you can't hear her laugh, she's smiling, with the joy of life dancing in her eyes.She was like a milkmaid on a farm where fairies lived.She was healthy and vigorous, completely self-reliant financially, and had an aristocratic directness in her manner that made her a lady.I don't know how to describe the impression she made on me.She was very sincere and simple, without any airs and celebrity airs.I guess, if given the chance, she will definitely become an elegant lady.She may not realize it, but deep down she believes that nothing in the world matters, so everyone likes her.I understand why East End factory girls adore her, why hundreds of thousands of people who have never met her, but only seen her picture, consider her a close personal friend. I was introduced to her and she talked to me for a few minutes.Seeing how interested she was in me, I felt an indescribable comfort in my heart.Although I knew that her delight at seeing me, and the rapt attention with which she listened to me, were not genuine, I was delighted and liked her immediately.She has a gift for being familiar with people.In just five minutes of talking, I felt like she was an old friend I had known for many years.Someone grabbed her and dragged her away from me, trying to dance with her.She followed the man obediently, with the same enthusiasm and joy on her face as when she had just slumped into the chair next to me.I saw her again at a luncheon two weeks later.She told me of the ten minutes we talked at that noisy dance, and I was amazed at how well she remembered what she said to both of us.Although she is only a young woman, she is very elegant and sophisticated in social situations. I told Carothers about my first meeting with Betty. "She's not a fool," he said. "Very few people know that she is very clever. Her poems are also very beautiful. But she is usually joking, careless, and cares nothing about anyone, so people think she is a scheming person." But they are all wrong. She is actually better than a monkey. You would never think that she has time to read so much. I don't think anyone knows her as well as I do. We often spend time together Going out of town on weekends for walks. When we were in London, we both drove up to Richmond Park for walks and conversations. She loved flowers, trees and grass, she was interested in everything. She was knowledgeable and sensitive. She It's almost omniscient. Sometimes we'll sit in a nightclub after an afternoon walk. She'll have two glasses of champagne, and she's drinking so much that she's drunk. And then she's became the center of the nightclub. I couldn't help but wonder how other people would react if they knew that just a few hours earlier, we were talking about some very serious topics. The contrast was too strong. She It seems like a completely different woman at the moment." Carothers said so much in one breath, without a smile on his face.He spoke in a very low mood, as if he were talking of a friend who had passed away young, leaving him without a close companion.He sighed deeply. "I fell madly in love with her. I proposed to her six or seven times. Of course I knew I had no chance of success. I was just a low-level employee in the Foreign Office. But I couldn't control my impulse. She refused. Me, she treats me very well even though she rejects me every time. It doesn't affect the friendship between us. You don't know, she really likes me. There is something about me that no one else can replace .I always thought she really liked me and treated me better than anyone else. I was madly in love with her." "You're not the only one I want to propose to her," I said, feeling that I should say something too. "It wasn't just me. She often got dozens of courtship letters at a time. They were written by African ranchers, Canadian miners and policemen, people she had never met or heard of. All kinds of people propose to her. She can marry whoever she likes." "I heard that another member of the royal family proposed to her." "Yes, she said she couldn't live that life. In the end, she married Jimmy Wheelon Burns." "People are surprised by this, aren't they?" "Have you never heard of this man?" "No, I know the man. I may have seen him. But I don't have any memory of him." "It shouldn't be. He's a very important man. His father owned one of the largest factories in the north of England. He made a windfall himself in the war, and donated a baronetship. I think he did it to appear worthy." The aristocratic blood also deliberately added an H letter before his surname." Jimmy and I were classmates at Eton College.The school spent a lot of effort in cultivating him into a gentleman.He was a busy man in postwar London.He is busy with all kinds of banquets and parties all day long, but he is just a pocket man, and no one will pay attention to him.He is a most hated person.He is very rigid, always a serious look, and he is too polite to people.He is always cautious, for fear that his words and actions will be inappropriate, so you will have an uncomfortable feeling when you are with him.He always dresses neatly, making you feel like you're wearing these clothes for the first time.而且他穿的衣服都有点儿过于贴身。 一天早上，当卡罗瑟斯随意翻看一份《泰晤士报》的时候，他将目光盯在了这天的时尚信息栏目上，看到其中有这样一篇报道，说康沃尔公爵的独生女儿伊丽莎白与约翰·惠尔顿·伯恩斯爵士的长子詹姆斯已经订婚。他当时简直是惊呆了。他马上给贝蒂打电话，问她这篇报道是否属实。 “当然是真的了。”她回答道。 他被惊得目瞪口呆，不知该说点儿什么。她接着说道： “他要在今天带着全家人与我父亲见面，我们要在一起吃午饭。我敢说这个场面肯定有些沉闷。你可以在克拉里奇饭店请我喝一杯鸡尾酒，为我鼓鼓劲，可以吗？” “几点见面？”他问道。 “一点。” “那好。我准时在那等你。” 他先她一步到达那里。她进来的时候脚步非常轻快，就好像她的双脚已经急不可耐地要跳起舞步来。她的脸上满是笑容，双眼闪烁着快乐的光芒，似乎在告诉你，她快乐是因为她还活着，而这个世界是如此美好。她走进来的时候周围的人认出了她，都在小声地议论她。卡罗瑟斯真的感觉到她的到来就像阳光和鲜花一样，使沉闷而豪华的克拉里奇饭店休息大厅立时充满了生机。他没有说客套话，而是直奔主题。 “贝蒂，你不能这样做，”他说道，“这根本就是不可能的事情。” "why?" “他这人太糟糕了。” “我不同意你的评价。我认为他相当不错。” 一个服务员进来问他俩要点什么，然后离去。贝蒂用她那双漂亮的蓝眼睛看着他，似乎既要竭力表现出自己很快乐，又要表现出对他非常温柔。 “他是一个令人讨厌的暴发户，贝蒂。” “哦，别胡说八道了，汉弗莱。他一点儿也不比其他人逊色。我想你有点儿过于自命不凡了。” “他这个人非常枯燥无味。” “不对，他只是不大爱说话而已。我并不想要一个太过优秀的丈夫。我想他个人的条件不错。他长相挺好看，举止彬彬有礼。” “天哪，贝蒂，你怎么会这么想。” “哦，不要再傻了，汉弗莱。” “你难道要假装自己爱他吗？” “我认为人有时候需要圆滑一些，对不对？” “那你为什么还要嫁给他？” 她冷冷地看着他。 “他很有钱。而我也快满二十六岁了。” 他再也无话以对。 他开车将她送回姑姑家。她的婚礼非常豪华。威斯敏斯特的圣玛格丽特大教堂门前是人山人海，几乎所有王室成员都出席了婚礼。蜜月是在她公公借给他们的游艇上度过的。卡罗瑟斯申请调到国外去工作。因此他被派往罗马（这一点我猜得很准，他一口流利的意大利语起了作用）。后来他又被派往斯德哥尔摩。他现在是英国驻意大利使馆的参赞。在此期间他创作了自己的第一篇小说。 也许贝蒂的结婚使英国的公众感到失望，他们曾对她寄予更大的期望；也许作为一个已婚的年轻女人，她不能再满足公众浪漫的感觉了。结果就是，她很快就从公众的视线中消失了。你很少能再听到她的名字了。她婚后不久就有传言说她就要生孩子了。但很快又有传言说她流产了。她并没有完全脱离自己的社交圈子。我猜她继续与她的朋友保持来往，但她的活动不再引人注目。她很少再去看她那些放荡不羁的老朋友。这些老朋友现在也已经成了一些过气的贵族，与他们关系密切的那些鼓吹手们现在改而吹捧他们是一些聪明而有文化教养的人了。人们都说她现在变得安分守己了。人们对她与丈夫如何相处很好奇。经过一番调查，人们很快就得出了结论：这对夫妇的关系并不和睦。现在又有传言说吉米酗酒很凶。一两年后，据说他患了肺结核。惠尔顿·伯恩斯夫妇在瑞典待了两个冬天。然后又有新闻传开了，说他们俩分道扬镳了，贝蒂自己到罗德岛去居住了。选择这样一个地方真是让人感到奇怪。 “那里一定非常乏味。”她的朋友们都这样说。 不时会有几个朋友到那里去看她。他们回来后说，这个岛屿非常美，岛上的生活非常闲暇和迷人。当然，那里也非常偏僻。贝蒂这样一个精力充沛、才华横溢的人能心满意足地在那样的地方安居下来，这真让人感到奇怪。她在那里买了一套房子。她在那里除了几个意大利官员外，谁也不认识，而且那里确实也没有值得交往的人。但她在那里却感到非常幸福。去那里回来的朋友们都为此而感到纳闷。但伦敦的生活是忙碌的，人们要记住的事情太多。人们不再想起这个人，她被人们彻底遗忘了。然而，在我与汉弗莱·卡罗瑟斯在罗马相遇前几个星期，《泰晤士报》登载了吉米·惠尔顿·伯恩斯准男爵死亡的讣告。他的一个弟弟继承了他的贵族头衔。贝蒂与他没有孩子。 卡罗瑟斯在她结婚后继续与她保持往来。只要他回到伦敦，他俩就肯定会在一起共进午餐。她能在两人分手相当长时间后重建两人的友情，仿佛时间没有流逝，因此俩人见面后丝毫也没有陌生感。有时她问他打算什么时候结婚。 “你的岁数也不小了，汉弗莱。如果你不快点儿结婚，你就要变成一个老古板了。” “你认为结婚好吗？” 提这样的问题有点儿不够友善，因为所有人都知道她与丈夫的关系紧张。但她的回答伤害了他的自尊心。 “总的看来，我想一桩不算美满的婚姻也许比不结婚要强。” “你非常清楚我不打算结婚了，而你也非常清楚其原因。” “哎哟，我的天呢，你不是要想说你还在爱着我吧？” “我确实还在爱着你。” “你真是一个该死的傻瓜。” “我不介意做一个傻瓜。” 她冲他笑了。她看他时总是用这种半开玩笑、半温柔的目光。他的心里感到又痛苦又幸福。可笑的是，他几乎可以触摸到这种感觉。 “你很可爱，汉弗莱。你知道我很喜欢你，但即使我是自由之身，我也不会嫁给你。” 当她与丈夫分手，独自到罗德岛生活的时候，卡罗瑟斯就再也没有见过她了。她也再没有回英国。他俩只是经常进行书信往来。 “她的信写得非常漂亮。”他说道，“你似乎能从字里行间中感觉到她在对你说话。她的信就像她本人，既聪明又风趣，不大符合逻辑，但又非常机敏。” 他提议让他到罗德岛去待几天，但她认为最好不要这样。所有人都知道他曾经疯狂地爱上了她，所有人都知道他现在依然爱她。他不知道惠尔顿·伯恩斯夫妇是在什么情况下分居的。也许两人的关系非常僵。贝蒂也许会认为他到岛上会给她带来不利的影响。 “当我的第一部小说集出版的时候，她给我写了一封充满温情的信。你不知道，我的这本书是献给她的。她对我能在写作上取得这样的成功感到非常惊奇。所有人对这本书的评价都非常高，她对此表示非常高兴。我想她最高兴的事情是我能高兴。不管怎么说，我并非专业作家，我并不怎么看重我在写作方面的成功。” 你个傻瓜，我心想，她在骗你呢。难道他认为我没有注意到由于这两本书广受欢迎，他就陷入自我满足之中了吗？我并不是要责怪他有这样的感觉，我完全能够理解他。但为什么如此痛苦却不敢承认呢？但是毫无疑问，主要是由于贝蒂的缘故，他才如此享受它们带给他的声誉。他现在有了自己的成就献给她。他现在完全可以向她求婚。他还在爱她，他现在也是有名之人了。贝蒂也不再年轻了，她已经三十六岁了。她结婚了，然后又一个人逗留海外，说明一切都变了。她的身边不再围满了求婚者，她不再是头顶光环、众人膜拜的偶像。他俩之间的距离不再是遥不可及了。这么多年来他始终守身如玉，就是因为心里有她。而她继续将自己的美貌、智慧和社交天赋埋没在地中海上的一个偏僻小岛上，这也太荒谬了。他知道她喜欢他，他这么多年的苦苦思恋肯定也会打动她。他要给她一个新的生活。他打定了主意要再次向她求婚。七月底他有空休假。他写信给贝蒂，说他这个假期要在希腊各岛上度过。如果她高兴见他的话，他可以在罗德岛停留一两天。他听说岛上有一家意大利人开办的很不错的旅馆。他深思熟虑后，采用了这样一种很随意的方式提出了自己的建议。他在外交部待了这么多年，外交经历让他懂得，凡事不可鲁莽。他做任何事之前都要预先给自己留下退路。 贝蒂给他发了一份电报作为回答。她说他能到罗德岛来真是太好了。他当然不能住在外面。必须到家里来住，而且至少要待两个星期。要他电报告知坐哪艘船过来。 当他在布林迪西乘坐的轮船点火起航的那一刻，他真是激动不已。日出后不久，轮船就抵达了罗德岛整洁而漂亮的港口。他几乎一晚都没有合眼，早早就起了床，在船上遥望着这座岛屿在晨曦中隐然显出的壮观轮廓，欣赏着夏季海面日出的美景。轮船抛锚后，小船就纷纷靠了上来。跳板搭好了。汉弗莱趴在船舷的护栏上向下望去，看到医生、港务局的官员和宾馆的导游们蜂拥而上。他是船上唯一的英国人。他的国籍一望可知。一个男子走上甲板，立即向他走来。 “您是卡罗瑟斯先生吗？” "yes." 他正想微笑着伸出手去，但立即从这个人躲闪的眼神中看出这个人虽然同自己一样都是英国人，但绝不是一个绅士。他虽然仍是彬彬有礼，但态度本能地有点儿僵硬。当然，卡罗瑟斯不会告诉我这些，但我能清晰地想象出这个场面，能毫不犹豫地把它描绘出来。 “夫人说她没有亲自来接您，希望您不要介意。这艘船到港的时间太早了，而我们的住处离这里有一个小时的路程。” “当然不会。夫人好吗？” “好，谢谢。您的行李准备好了吗？” "yes." “请您告诉我哪个行李是您的，我去叫个挑夫把行李给您搬到小船上去。您在海关不会有麻烦的。我把一切都处理好了。那么咱们可以走了。您吃早饭了吗？” “吃了，谢谢。” 这个男子说话经常漏发“h”音。卡罗瑟斯暗自思忖，他是干什么的呢？他并非全然不懂礼节，但对自己却有点儿爱答不理的。卡罗瑟斯知道贝蒂的房产很多，也许他是被雇佣的经纪人？这个人很能干。他俩坐上小船后，他用流利的希腊语指挥着搬运工。小船的船主还想多讨要一点儿费用，但他说了几句话后，他们哈哈大笑，满意地耸耸肩膀。他的行李通过海关时没有打开检查，那个男人与海关官员们握了握手。他俩走进了一片沐浴着阳光的空地，一辆宽大的黄色轿车就停在这里。 “你来开车送我吗？”卡罗瑟斯问道。 “我是夫人的司机。” “哦，我明白了。刚才我没看出来。” 他的穿着不像个司机。他下穿一条粗布裤子，光脚穿着双帆布便鞋，上穿一件白色的网球衫。没有打领结，领子敞开着。头上戴着一顶草帽。卡罗瑟斯皱了皱眉。贝蒂不应该让她的司机这么一副打扮来开车。当然了，他天不亮就得起床，从港口到别墅的路上天气也很热。也许在一般的场合他就会穿制服了。他虽然比卡罗瑟斯矮一些，但穿着鞋也有六英尺高了，还不算很矮。他的肩膀很宽，身体结实，显得很粗壮。他略有点儿胖，但不臃肿。他看来是有一个好胃口的人，饭量很大。他看起来还算年轻，大概有三十或三十一岁。他现在已经是肌肉丰满，将来一定是个大块头。他的脸很宽，被晒得漆黑；鼻子又短又厚，看起来有点儿郁郁寡欢。他留着漂亮的小胡子。卡罗瑟斯感到奇怪的是，他模模糊糊地感觉自己曾在哪里见过这个人。 “你与夫人在一起的时间长吗？”他问道。 “是的，可以这样说。” 卡罗瑟斯的表情更僵硬了。他很讨厌这个司机说话的语气。这个司机对他说话不尊称先生，这让他很纳闷。恐怕贝蒂有点儿惯着他了，让他竟然有点儿自傲自大起来。可能她对这类事情不大在意。But this is a mistake.如果有机会的话一定记住提醒她。他俩的眼光相遇的一瞬，他敢打赌他看到这个司机的眼光中闪动着一种感到逗趣的神色。卡罗瑟斯无法知道其原因。他不知道这个司机有什么事情要感到好笑。 “那里，我猜，就是骑士们的旧城堡了。”他指着一段带城垛的墙，冷淡地说道。 “没错。夫人会带你去看的。这个季节我们经常到这里来。” 卡罗瑟斯曾想要表现得随和一些。他曾想，如果自己与司机并排坐在前坐，而不是一个人坐在后排，这样可能会显得更平易近人一些。于是上车前他主动提出了这个建议。于是司机告诉行李搬运工将他的旅行袋都放到车的后座上。司机自己坐在了驾驶员的位置，对他说： “现在你跳上车，咱们就可以走了。” 卡罗瑟斯在副驾驶位置上坐下，他们就沿着一条白色的公路向前驶去。公路开始紧靠着海边，但几分钟后就进入到一片开阔的原野上。他俩默默地坐着。卡罗瑟斯的脸上略带一点儿他特有的高贵表情。他感觉到这个司机想跟他套点儿近乎，但他不打算给他这个机会。他自我安慰地想，自己对他的态度可能能使这个司机明白自己的身份。他想，自己这种严肃的态度和嘲讽的话语，用不了多久就能使这个司机称呼自己“先生”。但这个清晨非常可爱，白色的公路在橄榄树林和农家小院中穿梭。农家小院不时在车旁闪过。农家小院的房子白墙平顶，颇有远东格调，分外引人注目。想到贝蒂正在等着他，他现在心中满是爱意，对任何人都会非常友善。他给自己点着了一支香烟。他想，也递给司机一支香烟能表现出自己的慷慨大度。司机接过香烟后将车停下，好把烟点着。 “你带香烟来了吗？”他突然问道。 “我带什么？” 司机的脸拉长了。 “夫人给你打了电报，让你带两磅水手牌香烟来。这也是我疏通海关，让他们不要打开你的行李的原因。” “我没有收到这样的电报呀。” “该死的！” “夫人要两磅水手香烟？她到底想要干什么？” 他说这句话的语气非常傲慢。他讨厌这个司机说话的态度。这个家伙目中无人地瞟了他一眼。卡罗瑟斯能看出来。 “这里买不到这种牌子的烟。”他只是简单地回答。 他非常气恼地将卡罗瑟斯递给他的那支埃及牌香烟扔掉，重新启动了汽车。但他的面孔阴沉着，什么话也不说了。卡罗瑟斯感到他尽量随和一些的想法是犯了个错误。因此，在剩下的行程中，他不再理睬这个司机。在英国大使馆当参赞时，如果有一个英国公民前来求助，他一般都是一副冷漠的表情。他对此是得心应手。现在这个本领正好能派上用场，他又换上了这么一副冷冰冰的神态。汽车开上山路已经有一段时间了，现在前面出现了长长的一堵矮墙，接着是一扇敞开的大门。司机将车拐了进去。 “我们到了？”卡罗瑟斯大声问道。 “五十七分钟开了六十五公里。”司机说道。他突然咧嘴笑了，露出了一口整齐洁白的牙齿。“在这样的路上能跑出这样的速度还算不赖。” 他按了下汽车喇叭，刺耳的声音响了起来。卡罗瑟斯激动得快要喘不上气来了。汽车爬上一条狭窄的道路，穿过一片橄榄树林，在一所布局杂乱的房屋前停了下来。贝蒂正站在大门前。他跳下汽车，走到她跟前，在她的双颊上各吻了一下。此刻他简直说不出话来。但下意识地，他注意到在大门旁还站着一个穿着白色粗布衣的管家和两个穿着当地人特有的硬褶白短裙的男仆。他们都很整洁，而且显得别具一格。尽管贝蒂放任她的司机毫无礼貌，但这所别墅管理得还是井井有条，充满了文明的气息，符合她的身份。她领他穿过大厅来到客厅。大厅的空间很大，墙刷得雪白，他模模糊糊地感觉到还布置了很漂亮的家具。客厅的面积也很大，只是举架稍矮了一些。客厅的墙也同样刷得雪白。他立即就感觉到了客厅的舒适与奢侈。 “你一定要先过来看看我这里的风景。”她说道。 “我先要看的就是你。” 她穿着一身白。她的胳膊、她的面孔和脖子都晒得漆黑，她的双眼看起来比以前更蓝了，牙齿更是洁白的惊人。她看起来状态非常好。她非常苗条和整洁。她留着大波浪的发型，指甲修剪过了。看到她在这样一个浪漫的岛屿上过着如此轻松惬意的生活，他的脑子中闪过了一丝焦虑。 “要我说，贝蒂，你看起来只有十八岁。你是怎么做到这一点的？” “快乐的生活。”她微微一笑。 闻听此言，他感到胸口一阵剧痛。他不希望她太快乐了。他希望由自己来给她快乐。他希望能给她幸福。现在她坚持要带他到露台上来。客厅有五扇大窗与露台相通。站在露台上，可以看到长满了橄榄树的山坡非常陡峭，向下一直延伸到海边。山下有一处小海湾，湾口的海面上有一艘白色的小船。在平静的海面上可以看到船的倒影。小船被锚定在海边。在露台的拐角处可以看到远处的山峰，可以看到山上有一个由白色房子组成的希腊人的小村；从小村再向前看，是一堵巨大的灰色悬崖，悬崖顶就是那座有垛口墙的中世纪城堡。 “那是一座当年骑士们据守的城堡，”她解释说，“今晚我就带你去那里看看。” 这里的景致非常可爱，美得让你简直喘不上气来。周围非常宁静，但奇怪的是，这里却充满了生命的气息。在这种氛围下你不会陷入冥想之中，而会心情激动地想干点儿什么。 “我猜你把香烟带来了。” He was taken aback. “我没有带来呀。我根本就没有接到你的电报。” “但我给大使馆发电报了，直接发给大使本人的。” “可我当时在广场呢。” “这可真麻烦。艾伯特又要发火了。” “艾伯特是谁？” “是他开车把你接过来的。他只喜欢抽水手牌香烟，而这里却没有卖的。” “哦，就是那个司机呀。”他指着山脚下那艘在海面上闪闪发光的小船问道，“这就是那艘我听过的游艇吧？” "yes." 贝蒂购买的是一艘大型轻划船，在船上又装了一台马达，进行了装修。她坐这条船游遍了希腊的各岛屿。她往北到过雅典，往南到过亚历山大城。 “如果你有时间的话，我们可以带你坐船去旅行。”她说道，“你既然到这啦，应该去看看科斯。” “谁为你开船？” “我当然得有一帮船上人员了。但主要是艾伯特来开。他非常善于摆弄车呀船呀这类机器。” 听到她又一次提到那个司机，他不知道为什么心里隐隐有股不舒服的感觉。卡罗瑟斯感到她可能让这个司机负责的事情过多了。而让一个仆人管太多的事可是犯了一个错误。 “我模模糊糊地感觉到以前在哪里见过艾伯特，但具体在哪里想不起来了。” 她欢快地笑了，眼睛里闪着光。突然而至的快乐使她的面容显得直率而可爱。 “你应该记得他。他是路易丝姑姑的二等男仆。他为你开门的次数肯定不止上百次了。” 贝蒂婚前就是与路易丝姑姑住在一起。 “哦，真的就是他吗？我想我当时肯定见过他，但没有注意。他怎么会在这里？” “他来自我的家乡。我出嫁后，他表示愿意做我的仆人。因此我出嫁时将他也带去了。他做了一段吉米的贴身男仆。然后我派他去干点儿与机械有关的工作。他这个人非常喜欢摆弄汽车，所以最后我挑选他做我的司机。现在如果没有他，我很多事情真不知道该怎么办。” “你不认为过于依靠一个仆人可能会带来麻烦吗？” “这我不知道。但我还从来没有因此而出现麻烦。” 贝蒂将他领到为他准备的套房内。他换洗完毕后，他俩就缓步走下山坡，来到海边。一条小舢板正停靠在海边等着他俩。他俩划着小舢板靠上游艇。他俩在游艇边下水游了会儿泳。海水一点儿也不冷。然后他俩爬上游艇，在甲板上晒太阳。游艇内部非常宽敞和舒适，装潢得很豪华。贝蒂领他到游艇的各处参观了一番。艾伯特正在修理发动机。他全身油污，双手黑乎乎的，脸上也沾上了黄油。 “怎么了，艾伯特？”贝蒂问道。 他站起身来，非常尊敬地面向她。 “没有什么，夫人。我只是检查检查。” “艾伯特在这个世界上只爱两件东西。一个是汽车，另一个就是游艇。我说得对吗，艾伯特？” 她冲他快活地一笑。艾伯特没有表情的脸上一下就放出光来，而且露出了一口洁白的牙齿。 “您说得很对，夫人。” “你不知道，他就住在船上。我在船尾为他装潢了一间非常漂亮的舱室。” 卡罗瑟斯这几天过得非常轻松愉快。这套别墅原属于一位土耳其帕夏，他被阿卜杜勒·哈米德放逐到罗德岛。贝蒂就是从他手里买下了这套别墅的。这座建筑非常优美，而她在原建筑的基础上又扩建了一个侧厅。她在别墅四周都种上了橄榄树，形成了一大片树林。别墅内外还种了许多迷迭香、薰衣草和水仙花。她还让人从英国带来金雀儿花和玫瑰。她种的玫瑰在岛上还十分有名呢。她告诉他，每当春天到来，这里漫山遍野都是银莲花。但当她领着他在别墅内外转悠，告诉他自己对住处的计划，下一步还要做哪些变动时，他心里不禁有点儿不安起来。 “听你说话的意思，你好像要在这里住上一辈子。”他说道。 “也许吧。”她笑了。 “简直是胡说八道！你刚多大岁数。” “我是快奔四十的人了，老男孩。”她低声说道。 他发现贝蒂的厨师厨艺很是不错，而且她的餐厅装潢考究，全是意大利家具；就餐时有颇有派头的希腊管家和两个身穿鲜艳制服的漂亮男仆在一旁伺候。他是个对就餐很讲究的人，这些都让他感到非常满意。这所别墅内布置的家具格调都很高雅。各房间的陈设都很简洁，但所有的物品都非常精美。看来贝蒂过得真是不错。他到达这里的第二天，岛上的总督带着几位手下到别墅来就餐。贝蒂隆重地接待了来宾。总督走进别墅时，身着华丽硬挺裙子和绣花夹克，头戴天鹅绒帽子的仆人分列在大门两侧夹道欢迎。简直就像是一支仪仗队。卡罗瑟斯喜欢这种宏大的场面。宴会也是非常快活。贝蒂的意大利语说得非常流利，而卡罗瑟斯的意大利语更是完美无瑕。总督的随从军官都很年轻，他们身着军官服，显得非常英俊。他们对贝蒂表现得彬彬有礼，大献殷勤；而贝蒂对他们既不失热情，也非常友好。她跟他们不断开着玩笑。宴会结束后，留声机响起了音乐。他们轮流邀请她跳舞。 客人们走后，卡罗瑟斯问她： “他们都在疯狂地爱着你吗？” “这我就不知道了。他们偶尔暗示想要娶我，或有其他表示。但我谢绝后，他们的表现都非常自然和友好。” 这些人并不构成对自己的威胁。他们中年轻人乳臭未干，而岁数稍长的不是肥胖不堪就是些秃头。无论他们如何追求贝蒂，她都不会傻到要嫁给一个中产阶级的意大利人。对这一点卡罗瑟斯丝毫没有疑问。但一两天后发生了一件奇怪的事情。当时他正在自己的房间内穿衣，准备去吃饭，忽然听到走廊里有一个男人说话的声音。他听不清说的是什么，也不知道说的是哪种语言。然后就突然传来了贝蒂清脆的笑声。她的笑声就像是一个年轻女孩发出的，欢快而迷人，像涟漪一样慢慢地散向四方。她的笑声放任而欢快，富有感染力。但她在对谁笑呢？对一个仆人不可能发出这样的笑声。这个笑声里有一种奇异的亲密感。卡罗瑟斯能从一阵笑声里察觉到这么多，这似乎有些不可思议，但别忘了他是一个非常敏感的人。他写的故事正是由于有这种绝技才引人瞩目的。 当他俩在露台上见面后，他一面摇着一杯鸡尾酒，一面好奇地问道： “刚才什么事让你笑成那样？有客人来吗？” “没有啊。” 她看着他，眼神中是真正感到突然。 “我以为有哪个你的意大利军官朋友来拜访呢。” "No." 时光的流逝当然也会在贝蒂的身上留下影子。她依然很美，但她现在展现的是一种成熟的美。她一直都很自信，但现在是更显出了一种从容。她的娴静就像她的蓝眼睛和坦率的额头一样，属于她的特征，是她给人美感的一部分。她似乎与所有人都能友好相处。与她在一起会有一种平静的感觉，就仿佛躺在一片橄榄树林之中，望着夕阳映照下呈现出葡萄酒色的海面。尽管她还是那么快活和风趣，但现在明显多了一层庄重。没有人会再指责她毛毛糙糙了。谁都能看出她性格的优雅之处。这种性格甚至可以被称为高贵。现代妇女具有这种性格特征的人很少。卡罗瑟斯在心里对自己说，她还真是一个守旧的女人。她让他想起了十八世纪那些声名显赫的贵妇们。她对文学的鉴赏力从来都很高。她出嫁前写的那些诗歌旋律优美，非常雅致。当她告诉他，她正在从事具体的历史研究工作时，他虽然有些吃惊，但更多的是增加了对她的钦佩。她说自己正在收集资料，想要写作一部罗德岛上的圣约翰骑士团的传记。内容都是一些浪漫的故事。她领着卡罗瑟斯在当年骑士们据守的城堡游览，让他看看这些著名的城墙。他俩还一起游览了那些朴素而庄严的建筑。他俩在骑士城寂静的街道上漫步，欣赏着那些可爱的石头砌成的建筑。建筑上巨大的盾形纹章让人不禁想起那些已经逝去的骑士时代。她在这里又让他吃了一惊。她已经在这里买下了一套古老的房子，而且精心地让房子恢复到那种古色古香的样子。当他走进小庭院内，踏上精美的石头砌成的楼道，他感到自己仿佛回到了中世纪。庭院内还有一个小花园，花园四面有墙，里面种了一棵无花果树和玫瑰。整个庭院不大，但很安静和隐秘。那些老骑士们一定是在东方待的时间太长了，他们也学会了东方人尊重私密性的习惯。 “我在别墅里住腻了，就在这里住个两三天，来个郊游野餐。有时自己一个人待着是种解脱。” “那你一个人在这住着不会感到孤独吗？” “是有一点儿。” 房内还有一个小客厅，客厅内摆放着朴素的家具。 “这是什么？”卡罗瑟斯指着一本放在茶几上的《体育时代》杂志，笑着问道。 “哦，这是艾伯特的。我想这是他去接你时顺手放在这里的。他订了《体育时代》和《世界新闻》杂志，每个星期都会给他寄过来。这是他了解外部世界的途径。” 她宽容地笑了。挨着客厅的是一间卧室，卧室内除了一张大床外什么都没有。 “这栋房子原先是一个英国人的。这也是我为什么买下来的部分原因。他是吉尔斯·柯恩爵士家族的一员。我的一位祖先娶了他家族的一个叫玛丽·柯恩的女人。这个女人是他的表姐。他的家族属于康沃尔人。” 贝蒂发现如果自己不懂拉丁语的话，她就无法读懂中世纪的历史典籍，因而也就无法继续进行她的历史研究。因此她就开始学习这种古老的语言。她刚刚掌握了基本的语法，就开始在一位翻译的陪伴下阅读她感兴趣的拉丁语原著。这是学习外语的一种非常高效的方法，我常常纳闷，为什么学校不采用这种学习方法呢？这样就不用不断地翻词典，逐个查找生词了。九个月后，贝蒂就可以顺利地阅读拉丁语了，程度达到了大多数英国人的法语水平。在卡罗瑟斯看来，这个可爱而聪明的尤物如此严肃地对待她的历史研究有点儿滑稽，但他也为此而感动。他真想一把将她搂在怀中，亲吻她。这一