Chapter 18 Section VIII

At a quarter past seven, I was still wrapped in a Luojin, with my arms outstretched.Candelaria and Angelita were busy drying the polish on my hands.At seven twenty, Felix finishes his work on my brow.At 7:25, Ruimei pinned the last hairpin on my head.Just a few seconds later, Hamila came rushing up from the balcony screaming and announcing that my boyfriend had just turned the corner in the street. "Okay, just a few little things now," my partner announced. "It's perfect, Candelaria, I don't have time for anything else," I said, half naked looking for clothes.

"No." She said behind my back. "I can't wait a minute, Candelaria, really," I insisted nervously. "Shut up, I said no." She grabbed my arm in the corridor and handed me a flat package with crumpled paper on the outside. I opened it in a hurry, because I knew that I couldn't insist on refusing it anymore, and I couldn't do anything if I went on like this. "My God, Candelaria, I can't believe it!" I opened a pair of silk stockings. "How did you get them? Didn't you say you haven't been able to find a pair since months ago?"

"Okay, shut up. Open this again." Without giving me a chance to express my thanks, she handed me another package. Inside the rough wrapping paper, I saw a beautiful, shiny shell, gilded around the edges. "This is a powder box," she said proudly, "so that you can pretend to touch up your makeup there, I want to see how you are different from those rich ladies standing shoulder to shoulder with you .” "This is so beautiful." I whispered, stroking the compact.Open the powder box, there is a small piece of powder, a small mirror, and a white powder puff inside. "Thank you so much, Candelaria, I didn't want to trouble you, you have done enough for me..."

I couldn't go on anymore, I was about to cry when the doorbell rang.Ding Lingling's voice made me realize immediately that now is not the time to express my feelings. "Hamila, hurry up and open the door." I ordered, "Felix, go and get me the clothes on the bed; Candelaria, help me put on the silk stockings, I'm too anxious to put them on myself, Rui May, please bring me my shoes, Angelita, please close the curtain in the hallway. Now, let's all go to the studio, and don't let anyone overhear us." I made myself a two-piece gown out of that raw silk material, with big lapels, a tight waist, and a wide skirt.As I had no jewelry to wear, my adornment consisted of a tobacco-coloured cloth flower pinned to my shoulder, which matched my dizzyingly high-heeled shoes, a figure in the Moorish community. The shoemaker made it for me.Reme had pulled my hair into a shaggy, elegant bun, which looked so elegant with the natural makeup Felix had done for me.Felix was inexperienced, but his work was astonishing: my eyes were sparkling, my lips were plump and moist, completely covering the weariness on my face.

Everyone helped me get dressed, put on my shoes, and rearranged my hair and lipstick.I hardly had time to look in the mirror, and I ran out of the room as soon as I cleaned up, and hurried out on tiptoe.I stopped when I reached the door, and walked into the living room pretending to be calm.With his back to me, Marcus Logan was looking down the street from the balcony.He turned around when he heard my footsteps on the tiles. It had been nine days since we last met, and the bruises on his body when he first arrived had almost healed.He was wearing a dark suit that day, with his left hand in his pocket, and he no longer needed bandages.Apart from some shallow scars on his face, it was almost impossible to see that he had been injured in a bloody mess some time ago.His skin, already bronzed by the Moroccan sun, contrasted sharply with the spotless white shirt he wore.He stands easily now, broad shoulders, straight waist.He smiled when he saw me, and this time he didn't have to struggle to fully smile.

"Our 'crony leader' won't want to go back to Burgess after seeing you this evening." He started with a veiled compliment. I also wanted to find something as creative as him to answer, but someone behind me rushed to say: "What a handsome guy." It was the rough voice of Felix who was hiding in the living room door. I tried not to laugh. "Let's go," I said to Logan. He also didn't have a chance to answer me right away.Just when he was about to open his mouth, a person ran over like a tornado. "Wait a minute, Mr. Marcus!" Candelaria waved his hand at him, "It's nothing else, before you leave, I want to give you a little advice, if you allow me."

Logan looked at me with some confusion. "A friend," I said. "Since that's the case, you can just say it." Candelaria walked up to him, pretending to brush off his coat as he spoke. "Be careful, young man, this girl has suffered a lot in the past. Don't think that you are a rich foreigner so you can set her up and let her suffer again. What if God, you dare to bully her. You only need to touch a hair of her hair. My cousin is not a vegetarian. We will find someone to teach you. You just wait for someone to chop you with a big knife when you go to the street one night , I’ll beat you to death with the half of your skin that’s in good shape now, and mark you so that you can take it with you wherever you go for the rest of your life. Do you understand?” My reporter friend was tongue-tied and completely unable to answer, although his Spanish Impeccable, unfortunately he almost completely missed my good friend's threats.

"What did she say?" He asked me with an innocent face. "It's nothing serious. Let's go, we're going to be late." I can barely hide my pride when I go out.Not because of my glamorous appearance, nor because of this handsome man in my arms, nor because of the grand event that I will attend, but because of the deep and sincere love of those friends behind me. The streets were adorned with little red flags and mignonettes, garlands of flowers and large posters greeting the honored guests, with portraits of his brother-in-law, the great leader.Crowds of Moors and Spaniards thronged the streets, and seemed to have no fixed direction.The balconies along the street were decorated with the colors of the national flag, and they were full of people, even on the roof terrace.The younger ones climbed even more incredible places: on pillars, iron fences, and street lamps.They are looking for the best position, ready to watch the convoy passing by here for a while.The girls were all holding hands, and their red lips were wiped and wiped again and again.The children ran around in groups and ran around in the crowd.Spanish boys have neatly combed hair, European clothes and tiny ties, and girls have hair accessories in various colors tied to their braids.The Moore children wore robes and felt hats, and many were barefoot.

We walked in the direction of Plaza de España, and along the way there were more and more people and their voices were getting louder.It was hot outside and the sun was still strong.A band can be heard tuning their instruments in the distance.Movable wooden steps are laid on both sides of the road.Everywhere was packed to the brim.Marcus Logan had to show his invitation over and over again so that we could pass through layers of security fencing that kept the crowd out of the area where dignitaries and dignitaries would pass.We barely spoke along the way, the noise around us and the crowd who had to dodge from time to time made it impossible for us to talk at all.Sometimes I had to hold onto his arm so the crowd wouldn't separate us, and sometimes he had to hold my shoulders so I wouldn't be overwhelmed by the chaotic crowd around me.It took a long time on the road, but finally arrived.The moment I walked through the iron gates and entered the Governor's Palace, I felt a twinge of pain in my heart, but I chose not to think about it.

A few Moorish soldiers stood guard at the gate, wearing imposing ceremonial dresses and huge turbans, their cloaks fluttering in the wind.Through the garden filled with flags and bunting, an attendant took us to a white tent specially prepared for the event, under which a large number of guests had already gathered, waiting for the celebration to begin.There are all kinds of military caps, gloves, jewelry, ties, fans, blue shirts, white coats, Falange emblems embroidered on the chest, and of course many stitches made by me. clothing.I greeted a few customers discreetly, pretending not to notice the glances and veiled whispers that were thrown at us from all directions.

"Who is she, who is he." I read the conversation from the movement of their lips.Then I recognized more faces, many of whom I had only seen in the photographs Felix had brought in the other day, but some of whom I had personal contact with, such as Sergeant Bathgas.He tactfully concealed his surprise at seeing me on such an occasion. "Look, what a pleasant surprise." He left the crowd around him and walked towards us. "Good evening, Mr. Claudio." I tried to sound natural, but I don't know if I did. One point, "Nice to meet you." "Really?" He made a sarcastic look. I didn't even have time to answer when he turned to my male partner. "Good evening, Mr. Logan. You seem to be quite used to life here." "As soon as I set foot in Tangier, Mr. Sheriff asked me to report to his office." Logan explained to me while shaking hands with him, "The border is really heavily guarded against foreigners." "For now, you don't have anything suspicious, but, Miss Sheila, if you find any unusual behavior in him, please report to me immediately." The sheriff joked, "And you, Mr. Logan, you have to take good care of yourself The lady next to me, she has worked hard day and night this year, very hard." We bid farewell to the sheriff and continued to move forward.The male journalist companion around him always seemed relaxed and focused.But I tried my best to suppress the unhappiness in my heart, suppressing my discomfort like a fish out of water.He didn't know anyone like I did, but he didn't seem to mind that, maintaining a poise and enviable self-confidence that might have been a work ethic.I quietly pointed out to Felix who the guests were, recalling what he had taught him: the one in dark clothes was José Ignacio Toledano, a wealthy Jew, Also the president of the Hassan Bank; the elegant lady with the feathered headdress and the cigarette holder smoking is the Duchess of Giza, a French nobleman who lives in La Ranche; the burly man over there is the waiter The one who poured the wine was the painter Mariano Bertucci.Some went according to schedule and more guests entered, then Spanish government officials, then high-ranking military officers, and finally Moroccans in their national dress.From the fresh garden came the shouts, shouts, cheers, and applause of the streets.he came!He has arrived!Shouting outside.But it was a little while before the adored figure appeared, first of all he had to stay in the crowd for a while, to be cheered like a matador or Felix's favorite American movie stars. In the end, the person whom everyone was looking forward to, the brother-in-law of the great leader, finally appeared.Long live Spain!He was dressed in a black three-piece suit, serious and stiff, very thin, but surprisingly handsome.His hair was almost white, combed back neatly.He kept the same pose all the time, as if singing the Falange anthem, with cat-like eyes.Although he was only thirty-seven years old, he looked older. I should be one of the few people on the scene who didn't care to look at him at all, and was not keen on shaking his hand. Even so, I kept looking in his direction.It wasn't Serrano that aroused my great interest, but the man next to him and whom I still didn't know: Juan Luis Bergber.My client and friend's lover turned out to be a tall, slightly thin man in his fifties.He wore a ceremonial uniform with a wide sash fastened round his waist, a military cap, and carried a light walking stick, resembling a kind of whip.His nose is sharp and straight, with a dark beard under it, and a pair of round glasses on his nose.Through the round lenses, you can see a pair of witty eyes, observing everything happening around you all the time.He gave me a very special feeling, a little beautiful.Although he was wearing a gorgeous military uniform, he didn't have the temperament of a military officer at all. On the contrary, he gave people a slightly exaggerated but unpretentious feeling.His expression is sometimes solemn, and sometimes very rich, and he looks very frank when he smiles, and he speaks quickly and loudly.He kept moving through the crowd, enthusiastically greeting all kinds of people, hugging, patting the back or shaking hands for a long time.He kept smiling, talking to different people, Arabs, Spaniards, Jews, back and forth.Maybe in his free time, he will release his inner self, as Rosalinda said, romantic and knowledgeable, but now, the only thing he shows us is his talent in public relations. It was as if an invisible thread tied him to Serrano Sunier.Sometimes he would let Serrano go away for a while, giving him a certain freedom of movement, allowing him to greet and talk to others, and to enjoy the flattery of others.But after a while, he put away the spool, dragged him to his side again, or explained something to him, or introduced others to him, or patted his shoulder and whispered something to him, and laughed a lot, Then let him go. I looked over and over for Rosalinda, but couldn't find it.She was neither with her beloved Juan Luis nor in the crowd. "Did you see Mrs. Fox?" I asked Logan.He had just spoken a few words in English to a man from Tangier and introduced me, but I forgot the names and titles. "No, I didn't see it." He replied simply, focusing all his attention on the group of people who were closing in on Serrano. "Do you know who they are?" He pointed cautiously with his chin. "Germans," I replied. There was the fussy Flau Langenheim in that stunning purple shantung silk gown I made for her; and Flau Hinds, my first customer, in A black and white dress like a clown, Benhard's wife with an Argentinian accent, no new clothes this time; and a woman I didn't recognize.They were all by their husband's side, and all of them flattered the "crony leader" so much that he laughed so hard that he almost melted among the Germans.Surprisingly, this time Begbel did not interrupt their conversation, but let him chat there for a long time. As night fell, lights were lit up around, like a carnival dance.The atmosphere of the event was warm but not noisy, the music was soft, and Rosalinda still didn't come.The group of Germans surrounded the honored guest, but the ladies retreated quietly since some time, leaving only five foreign men and one Spanish man.They seemed to be talking, and seemed to be passing around something.Several heads leaned together, pointing, and making some comments from time to time.I noticed my male partner kept peeking over there. "You seem to be interested in Germans?" "I'm crazy about it," he said sarcastically, "but I'm tied up." I raised my eyebrows and gave him a questioning expression, expressing that I didn't understand what he was talking about.But instead of explaining to me further, he turned the conversation to another topic that seemed to be completely unrelated. "Would it be shameless if I asked you to do me another favor?" He seemed to ask the question casually, as casually as he had asked me a few minutes before if I would like a cigarette, or a glass of fruit wine. "That depends on what is busy." I replied, also pretending to be casual, but I was extremely anxious inside.Although the atmosphere of this night is relatively relaxed, I still can't find a pleasant feeling, and I can't make myself fully enjoy this feast that has nothing to do with me.Besides, Rosalinda's absence worries me a lot.It was so strange that she never showed up.Now, this shameless reporter actually asks me to do him a favor, and agreeing to come to this banquet is already a big concession! "It's a simple thing," he said. "I'm curious to know what the Germans are showing Serrano and why everyone is so focused." "Is it your personal curiosity or professional needs?" "Both. But I can't get near them. They don't like the English, you know." "You mean let me go over to them and have a look?" I couldn't believe it. "And try not to let them find out as much as possible." I almost laughed out loud. "Are you kidding me?" "Of course not. That's my job, to find information, and to figure out how to get it by any means possible." "Then now, because you can't get the information yourself, I'm the means, right?" "I swear, I don't want to force you. This is just a proposal, and you have no obligation to accept it. I just hope you think about it." I looked at him, speechless.He seemed sincere and believable, but maybe, as Felix said, he wasn't.In any case, it's all just an exchange of benefits. "Okay, I'll go." He was about to open his mouth to say something, maybe a word of thanks, but I didn't give him the chance. "But in exchange you have to do me something," I added. "What?" he asked in amazement, not realizing that there would be a price to pay for me to do this. "Go and find out where Mrs. Fox is?" "How to investigate?" "You'll figure it out, after all you're a reporter, aren't you?" Without waiting for his answer, I turned away, thinking to myself, how the hell am I going to get close to the Germans without being so obtrusive. Finally, the powder box that Candelaria gave me before going out gave me an idea.I took it out of the bag, pretended to look at my appearance in the mirror as I walked, and headed towards the bathroom.It's just that because I was too focused on self-admiration, I went a little bit off in the direction, failed to pass through the crowd, and, too bad, accidentally bumped into the German consul's back. This small accident caused the group of people's conversation to stop suddenly, and the powder box fell to the ground with a bang. "I'm very, very sorry, I don't know how to express my apology, I walked too carelessly..." I said pretending to be panicked. Four men in front of me immediately bent down to help me pick up the compact, and the one who moved the fastest picked it up.The thinnest of them all, the one with the gray hair pulled back, the only Spaniard, the man with the cat's eyes. "I think the mirror is broken." He stood up and said, "Look." I looked in the mirror.But before turning my gaze to the cracked mirror, I tried to quickly identify something else in his extremely thin hands. "Yes, it seems to be broken." As I whispered, I gently stroked the mirror that had been broken into small pieces with my ring finger. Countless shadows are reflected in it. We were almost shoulder to shoulder, head to head.The fair skin on his face seemed to be only a few centimeters away from me, and I could clearly see his delicate facial features, white hair at the temples, thick black eyebrows, and a well-trimmed beard. "Be careful, don't cut your hands," he whispered. I procrastinated there for a while to see that the powder inside was intact and the puff hadn't come off.At the same time, I pretended to casually look at another thing in his hand, which was circulated among them a few minutes ago.photo.It's a stack of photos.I can only see the top one, a group of people I don't know are tightly gathered together, strange faces, strange bodies. "Thanks, I think it's best to close it," I said at last. "Then you take it." I snapped the compact shut. "What a pity, the compact is so beautiful, almost as beautiful as its owner," he added. At his compliment, I made a coquettish pout and gave him my biggest smile. "It's okay, don't worry, it's really okay." "Nice to meet you, miss," he said, holding out his hand to me.His hands are almost weightless. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Serrano." I winked at him. "Once again, I apologize for interrupting your conversation. Have a nice day, gentlemen." I glanced over Like the others, they all had a little R on their necklines. "Have a nice day!" they said in unison. I changed the direction and continued to move forward, trying to release the style.When I thought they should have lost sight of me, I picked up a glass of wine from the waiter's tray, drank it down, and threw the empty glass into the rose garden. I cursed Marcus Logan for sending me on such a risk, and I cursed myself for accepting the request.I was closer to Serrano Sunier than any of the guests just now. We were almost face to face, fingers touching, and his voice sounded in my ear, like an intimate whisper.I appeared to him like a bewildered flirt, delighted to be temporarily the center of his attention, despite the fact that I had no interest in getting to know him.And all this for what?It's just to prove that what the group of people are looking at is a stack of photos, and there is no one I know in the photos. I vented my anger all the way until I reached the door of the main building of the Governor's Mansion.I needed to go to the bathroom, go to the toilet, wash my hands, get away from it all, even for a few minutes, and calm myself down before going back to that reporter.I followed the route someone told me to go, turned right from the corridor with floral decorations on the wall and many portraits of officers in uniform, and then entered a wider corridor, the third door on the left.But before I got to the door, I heard someone screaming and complaining about the condition of the bathroom, and I quickly saw what was going on inside.The floor of the bathroom was already covered with ocean, and it seemed that water was constantly gushing out from somewhere inside, maybe a water pipe had burst.Two ladies were angrily complaining about how their shoes were messed up, and three soldiers were busy mopping the floor with rags and towels, trying to hold back the incessant stream of water, which by then had overflowed onto the corridor floor tiles .I was a little overwhelmed by the side.Then the reinforcements arrived, and everyone was busy on the ground, and it seemed that even the sheets were used.The two female guests walked away muttering, and someone came up and offered to accompany me to another bathroom.