Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

"right here?" "Yes, ma'am," said the taxi driver, "17 Harp Road." "Is this a private residence?" "No, ma'am. It's a shop, a flower shop." The street appears to be in the less fashionable part of La Bondelet.That is, close to the waterfront walkway.Most of the rich Englishmen who funded La Bondelet had at one point held a strong disdain for the area, which looked (and was) similar to Weston, Paignton or Foxton. seaside resorts) exactly the same. During the day, it is full of energy, gray slate, dense small streets, shops submerged in colorful souvenirs, there are small shovels, kegs, windmills, and yellow Kodak logos, entertaining family-style bars.But during the long autumn nights, most streets are dark and dank.Harp Road winds among the tall houses, as if swallowing taxis.When the car pulled up in front of a dimly lit store, Eva was too frightened to get out of the car.

She sat with her hand on the half-open door, watching the driver by the faint light of the small light of the taximeter. "A...a flower shop?" she repeated. "Indeed, ma'am." The driver pointed to the only visible white enamel letters on the dim florist's window: "Paradise Gardens. We sell the finest flowers." "You see, it's closed," he added kindly. "I see." "Ma'am would you like me to drive you somewhere else?" "No, it's fine here." Eva got out of the car.She is still hesitating. "You don't happen to know who the owner is?"

"Ah, the shopkeeper. I don't know," said the driver, after a moment's thought, "I can't say anything about the shopkeeper. But I know the landlady very well. It's Mademoiselle Latour, also called Mademoiselle Prue, a very gentle young man." Miss." "Radur?" "Yes, ma'am. Are you unwell?" "No! Does she have a relation, a sister or aunt or something, named Yvette Latour?" The driver stared at her. "I said, this question is too difficult! I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't say it. I only know this store, which is as neat and beautiful as the lady herself." (At this time, Eva felt a pair of curious eyes in the dark staring at her) "Ma'am would you like me to wait here?"

"No. Oh! Yes, perhaps you'd better wait." Eva wanted to ask another question, but hesitated.She turned around suddenly, hurried across the aisle, and came to the flower shop. The taxi driver behind her thought: My God, what a lovely lady and obviously British!So, is it possible that Miss Prue is messing around with the lady's boyfriend and that the lady has come here to take revenge?In that case, I say, I'd better hit the clutch and get out of here before someone throws acid.But think about it, the British usually don't throw acid.But they have a bad temper. I have seen that when the husband is drunk, his wife will talk about this and that.Forget it, people would rather think about the good side of a thing than the bad side.Besides, she still owes me 8 francs and 40 cents.

Eva's own thinking is not so simple and straightforward. She stopped outside the flower shop.Next to the door is a clean and bright thick glass window, through which you can hardly see anything.The tip of the moon appeared on the pitch-black roof, reflected in the windows, making the glass opaque. Any time after 10 o'clock.The door is open, come in anytime. Eva turned the handle and found the door was open.She pushed the door open, expecting the bell to ring immediately, but nothing happened.Silence, darkness.She left the door wide open, not because she didn't know what it meant, but because she saw the taxi driver on the street outside, so she was calmer.She went into the store.

Still nothing... A cool, moist, and fragrant breath hit her face, wafting around her.It's not like a big store.Close to the window, a cloth-covered birdcage was suspended from the low ceiling on chains.A ray of moonlight fell on the floor, casting the ghostly shadows of the flower-strewn room, and casting the shadow of a funeral wreath on the wall. All kinds of floral fragrances are lightly washed by the moisture, as if they have been soaked in water.As she walked past the checkout counter, she noticed a yellow light at the back of the shop.Below a heavy curtain that blocked the entrance to the room behind, light leaked down the floor.At this moment, the woman's brisk voice came from behind the curtain.

"Who's there?" the woman asked in French. Eva stepped forward and pulled the curtain aside. The only word that can describe this scene is "family atmosphere".This place exudes a family atmosphere.She looked at the small, warm living room, decorated with tasteless wallpaper but homely. There is a mirror on the mantel, surrounded by wooden shelves.Round coals, called boulets by the French, burn brightly in fireplaces.A lamp with a tassel sits on the table in the middle.There is a doll on the sofa.A framed family portrait hangs above the piano. Mademoiselle Prue herself sat in an easy-chair by the lamp with a calm and kindly expression.Eva had never seen her before, but Mr. Glenn or Dermot Kinross would have recognized her.She is well dressed and graceful.She looked up at Eva with her big dark, dignified eyes.A sewing basket lay on a nearby table; at the moment she was mending the seams on her pink garter belt and had just bit off a thread.It's this act that gives this room its cozy homey feel and easy laid-back feel.

Toby Laws sat across from her. Miss Prue put down her needlework and garter belt and stood up. "Ah, ma'am!" she said quickly, "you got my note? Very well. Come in." There was a long silence. Unfortunately, Eva's first impulse was to laugh at Toby.But it's not fun, not fun at all. Toby sat stiffly.He looked back at Eva, as if caught in her gaze, unable to escape.The dark red color slowly spread on his face, almost bursting out; if you want to get the clues of his inner thoughts, you can read it very clearly through his expression.Almost everyone who saw his expression at that time felt sorry for him.

Eva thought to herself: I am going crazy every minute of the day.But right now I can't.I can not. "You—you wrote that note?" she said involuntarily. "Unfortunately yes!" Prue replied, with an uneasy smile and genuine concern. "But, ma'am, one has to be realistic." She walked up to Toby and casually kissed him on the forehead. "Poor Toby," she said. "I've been his girlfriend for so long and I can't make him understand. It's time to be honest, isn't it?" "Yes," Eva said. "anyway." Prue's lovely face became calm and confident again. "Look, ma'am, I'm not a flirt! I'm a young woman with a wonderful personality and family." She pointed to the photo on the piano. "That's my father. That's my mother. That's my uncle Alsern. That's my sister Yvette. If I get into situations I can't get out of sometimes... Hey! Isn't that what everyone thinks of themselves as What privileges do human women have?"

Eva looked at Toby. Toby tried to stand up, but sat down again. "You know!" said Prue, "it's understandable... at least that's how I was naive... Mr. Laws's intentions were honorable, he wanted to marry. Then he announced his engagement to you. No , no, no!" Her voice became hollow and reproachful. "I ask you! Is it fair? Is it just? Is it honorable?" She shrugged. "But, I understand these men! My sister Yvette, she was furious. She said she was going to break up the marriage and put me in the arms of Mr. Laws." "Is it the same now?" Eva said.She began to understand many things.

"But me, I don't want that. I don't follow anyone. Je m'en fous de ca! (French, I'm stupid about this!) If this Toby doesn't want me, there are other fish in the sea. But it seems to me—as a woman, ma'am, you'll agree with me—that I should be given a small compensation for lost time and hurt feelings. Fair enough, isn't it?" Toby started talking. "You wrote her a note...?" he said blankly. Prue didn't even look at him except for an absent-minded, intimate smile.Her real rival is Eva. "I asked him if he could make amends so we could break up without hurting our feelings. I congratulated him. I congratulated him on his marriage. But he put me off saying he was short of money." Prue's gaze expressed her thoughts. "Then his dad died. It was sad," said Prue, who looked genuinely concerned, "and I didn't bother him for almost a week except to express my sympathy. Besides, he said, as his dad's heir , he can trade with me very generously now. But you see! Just yesterday, he said that his father's business is a mess, and there is not much money left; and my neighbor, the art dealer Mr. Vier, is pressing The cost of a broken snuff bottle. 750,000 francs! Unbelievable." "This note..." Toby began. Prue was still watching Eva. "Yes, I wrote it," she admitted. "My sister Yvette didn't know I wrote the note. It was my own idea." "Why are you writing?" Eva said. "Ma'am, why are you asking that?" "That's what I asked." "To any intelligent person," said Prue, scathing and reproachful, "it's obvious," and she went to straighten Toby's hair. "I like poor Toby very much..." The gentleman who was being talked about jumped up. "And, to be honest, I'm not rich," Prue explained.She tiptoed to this side, admiring herself in the mirror above the mantelpiece with satisfaction, "But I guess you'll have to admit, I'm not bad looking. Huh?" "Pretty!" "Well! The lady is rich, that's what they told me. Of course, wise and elegant people don't need to explain more to understand it?" "I still don't..." "Ma'am would like to marry my poor Toby. Even though I'm devastated at losing him, I'm what you would call a straight good guy. I'm independent. I don't bother anybody. But in these matters, the voyons , voila), one has to be realistic. So if the lady agrees to make some small compensations, I promise things will work out just fine." There was another long silence. "Why did the lady start laughing?" Prue asked, her voice much shriller than before. "I'm sorry. I didn't laugh. That—really not. May I sit?" "Of course! Look how rude I am! Here, take this chair. It's Toby's favorite." The redness of embarrassment, the humiliation of being caught, had faded from Toby's face.He's less like a sinful situation and more like a boxer who's giddy at the end of the fifteenth round and you have to pat him on the back and say, "It's alright, man." He still looked stiff.Anger is self-evident, and so is hypocrisy.Whether we like it or not, human nature is human nature.He had put himself in such an awkward position.He was going to take it out on someone, maybe anyone, for that. "Get out," he said to Prue. "gentlemen?" "I said, get out!" "Don't you forget," Eva put in, her tone so cold and quick that Toby blinked, "don't you forget that this is at Miss Latour's house?" "I don't care whose house it is. I say..." Toby buried his hands in his hair, as if trying to get a firm grip on the skull, and then he grabbed himself hard.He straightened up, breathing heavily. "Get out of here," he begged. "Please, go. Va-t'en. I want to talk to the lady." The cloud of anxiety dissipated from Prue's mind, and she took a deep breath to express her support. "No doubt," she said cheerfully, "madam intends to discuss the details of compensation?" "Mostly," Eva agrees. "I'm, very sensible," said Prue, "and believe me, I'm glad the lady took it all with such grace. I must admit I was worried for a while. Now I'm walking away, but I'm upstairs. If you want to find me, poke that broom handle against the ceiling and I'll come down. A'voir, madame. A'voir, Tobee." Prue gathered the garter belt and needle and thread from the table and went towards the door at the back of the living room.She nodded to them briskly, with a hint of sympathy, showing her lovely eyes, lips, and teeth, and exited the room, carefully closing the door behind her, kicking up a cloud of dust. Eva went over and sat down in the easy chair by the table.She said nothing. Toby looked restless.He steps away from Eva and puts his elbows on the mantelpiece.Even a duller man than Toby Laws could feel the tempest building up in this quiet little room behind the flower shop. Few women have had the opportunity Eva is facing now.After all the pain and confusion that was thrown at her, it was time for her to cry out for what she deserved.Any impartial bystander who saw the two in the warm room would have encouraged her to strike fiercely, and with a merry cry, beat her foe down.But for bystanders, it is certainly easy to talk. The silence continued.Toby cocked his moustache, still resting his elbows on the mantelpiece, his collar turned up around his ears, and now and then he glanced quickly in Eva's direction, watching her reaction. Eva said only one word: "Huh?"