Chapter 5 Chapter 5 War

1 War broke out and Britain was at war.I married Archie in a hurry before Christmas and went to work in the hospital. While working in a hospital pharmacy, I started thinking about a detective story.Ever since Maggie spoke to me, this creative desire has been buried in my heart, and the current job seems to provide me with good conditions.Pharmacy work is sometimes busy and sometimes free, unlike nursing work, which is always busy.There are days when I sit in the pharmacy by myself all afternoon with nothing to do.When all the reserve bottles have been filled and ready, you can do whatever you want, as long as you don't leave the pharmacy.I began to think about writing a detective novel within my means.Drugs and drugs are all around me, maybe I should write about poisoning cases.I conceived the main plot of the novel, thought it over and over again, felt satisfied, and finally settled on it.So I started thinking about the characters in the story.Who will be the victim?Who should the poisoner be?When and where did the incident occur?The method and cause of poisoning?and other issues.Murder was best committed within the family, that is to say, between fraternal fratricide.And of course a detective was to be found.It's just that the detective I write must be different from Sherlock Holmes: I have to create a character image myself.And find a friend for him as a foil.This is not difficult to do.I turned to other characters, who should be the victim?A husband would murder his wife—it seemed to be commonplace murder.I can quite well write about a bizarre murder for an unusual purpose.But that doesn't interest me artistically.The key to the success of a good detective novel is to make the characters in the story ambiguous.Being both like a criminal and somehow not feeling like a criminal is impossible, even though he or she did it.For this reason, I regretted that I had to put this aside and prepare two or three bottles of hypochlorous acid washing solution, so that I would have more free time the next day.

I thought hard like this, and gradually figured out the clues, and the image of a murderer became increasingly clear.He was supposed to look sinister, with his black goatee—which seemed to me then to be a sign of evil.At the time, I met a couple who had just moved to our neighborhood.The man had a black goatee, and his wife was older and very rich.I think this couple can be used as the prototype of the characters in the novel.I thought about it over and over again, this is a good way to deal with it, but it is not very satisfactory.I'm sure this man will never kill.I put aside this idea, determined not to look for prototypes of characters in real life, but to create characters myself, instead, I could create my own characters from the prototypes of characters I saw by chance on trams, trains, or restaurants.

The next day, on the tram, I ran into a character I wanted to portray: a man with a black beard sitting next to an old woman.The old woman chattered like a magpie.The woman was not to my liking, but the man was perfect.Not far from them sat a broad, brisk woman, talking loudly of cabbage.I am very interested in her looks.Do you want to include her in it?The image of the trio after getting out of the car still lingers in my mind.I walked down Barton Street, muttering like I was playing a game with the Keatons when I was a kid. Before long, several prototypes emerged: a feisty woman—I even had a name for her: Evelyn.She could be a poor relation, a gardener or a housemaid.Whatever it is, the character is settled.The other was a man with a goatee.I feel that apart from his black goatee, I still lack further design for him, which is not enough.Perhaps these are enough, because people can only observe him from the outside, so they can only see his appearance, but cannot understand his true face.As for his motive in murdering his older wife, it was money, not her own inadequacy, so his character traits were irrelevant.Immediately afterwards, I added a few more characters, son, daughter and nephew, which must be suspenseful.It is natural for a family to combine.

I put these characters aside for a moment and began to think about the detective.There is only one detective—Sherlock Holmes, whom I can never surpass and emulate.Arseny Lupin—whether he was a criminal or a detective, I couldn't tell, but he wasn't the detective I was going to write about. In The Yellow House Mystery, there is a young journalist, Ruleta Bill, who is very much like the detective I want to make.So what kind of detective should I be looking for?student?Solving such a case was a bit difficult for him.What about scientists?But what do I know about scientists?I suddenly thought of the Belgian refugees.There is a large Belgian diaspora in our parish.When they first came, the local residents sympathized with them and treated them very warmly. They arranged their warehouses with furniture for them to live in, making their lives as comfortable as possible.However, the Belgians don't seem to be grateful for these good deeds, complaining about this and that.These poor souls are terrified of being in a foreign land, and the English don't like it.Most of the migrants are very suspicious farmers, who don't want to be invited out for tea, and don't like sudden visits from strangers.They like to be alone, isolated from the world.They want to save money, open a vegetable garden, and water and fertilize according to ancestral methods.

Why not let a Belgian be the detective in the book?There are all kinds of characters in immigration, why not a retired police officer?My God, what a mistake I made: the result is that the detective in my work is now over a hundred years old. In this way, I decided to create an image of a Belgian detective.I let him enter his role step by step. First, he worked as a prosecutor and knew-some criminal knowledge. As I was clearing the clutter in my bedroom, I thought to myself that my detective would have to be a shrewd, quick-witted dwarf.It is clear in my mind.Form a capable dwarf, always tidying up things, and like everything is in pairs and squares.He is resourceful and clear thinking.What to name him?Enils?Not a bad name.His surname gave me a lot of thought.Finally the surname Poirot was adopted.I don't know how he got the surname Poirot, maybe he just popped into my head, or maybe I read about it in some paper.I finally settled on his name as Hercule Poirot.Thank God.

Now I have to name several other characters in the story, but their names are not so important.Alfred Inglethorpes, the name goes well with the black goatee.I added a few more characters.Among them is a beautiful man and woman, and there is some estrangement between husband and wife.The next thing to consider is the branch outside the main story line-the false clue.Like many people who are new to writing, I added too many plots to the story and set up too many false clues, which not only made it difficult for the author to strip those false clues, but also made it difficult for readers to understand.

Fragments of the novel linger in my mind whenever I have free time.I have planned the beginning and arranged the ending, but the big blank in the middle is not so easy to fill.I let Hercule Poirot look natural and reasonable when he showed up.But what about other characters?How to arrange their appearance?It's still an unreasonable mess. I'm always absent-minded when I'm at home.My mother kept asking me why I turned a deaf ear to her questions, or answered them inappropriately.More than once I knit my aunt's fur work wrong;I finally feel confident that I can write.I told my mother about my writing plan.She was as convinced as ever that her daughter was omnipotent.

"Eh? Detective novels? That must have been a nice turn in your life. Then why don't you hurry up and start writing? said the mother. I rarely have a lot of leisure, so I can only squeeze time.I still have the typewriter that Maggie used to use, and I type out every chapter I write.I was totally caught up in the creative euphoria and had fun with it.But gradually I feel tired and irritable.I've found that it's also caused by writing.I got bogged down halfway through the book, and the intricate plot made me feel overwhelmed and difficult to navigate.At this moment, my mother made a good suggestion to me.

"How much have you written?" she asked me. "Probably half." "You'd better leave the house and go on vacation. That way you can finish the second half in peace." I thought about it, if I had two weeks to concentrate on writing without being disturbed, it would be great. "Where are you going on holiday?" asked my mother, "Dartmoor?" "Yes, Dartmoor, just go there." I was so excited. So I went to Dartmoor, and took a room at the Moreland Hotel.The hotel is very large, many rooms are empty, and there are very few guests.I hardly interacted with any tenants so as not to distract me from writing.I bury my head in my book every morning until my arm is sore.Then came lunch, with a book to read, and a walk in the moor, where I would spend two hours.From then on, I fell in love with the swamp.As I walked, I kept talking to myself, rehearsing the chapter I was about to write, now talking to Mary in John's voice; now Mary talking to John; The boss reported, unknowingly entered the storyline.I went back to the hotel, and after dinner I fell into bed and slept for twelve hours.I woke up early the next morning and devoted myself to writing again until lunch.

During this fourteen-day vacation, I finished writing the next few chapters. Of course, this does not mean that it is finalized.Finally finished the whole book.I feel quite satisfied.Basically reach the idea before writing.I think it can be improved, but I don't know where to start.I rewrote a few chapters that were written more dullly.In the book, Mary and John were divorced because of their feud, and at the end of the story, I let them reunite.This is done to give the story a romantic twist.As far as I am concerned, I hate the insertion of love stories in detective novels, thinking that they belong to romance novels, and it would be incongruous to include love elements in speculative novels.But in those days, there were always love episodes in a detective novel - and I had to go with the flow.I had a proof typed out on a typewriter, and when I felt that the book could not be altered, I sent it to a publisher.It wasn't long before I got a rejection.There are no instructions attached.The returned manuscripts were neat, without any wrinkles, obviously no one had read them.I'm not surprised by this - it's expected.I repackaged the manuscript and sent it to another publishing house.

2 Archie came back for a second sabbatical two years later.This time we had a great time.The holiday lasted for a week and we went to the big forest.It was autumn, and the trees were covered with frost. Archie's mood was much better than before, and we were less worried about the future.The two walked in the forest, sharing the happiness of a family relationship.I try to avoid talking about the hospital or my job, and Archie rarely mentions the war in France.He hinted to me that it might not be long before the two of us could live together. I told him I wrote a novel.He read it through with relish.I thought it was well written.He said he had a friend in the Air Force who had been director of Methuen Press.Archie suggested that if the manuscript came back, he would have his friend write a letter, and I could send his friend's letter along with the manuscript to the Methuen Press. In this way, the manuscript of the novel entitled "The Mysterious Case of Stiles" was sent to Methuen Publishing House.The manuscript stayed there longer than at the previous two publishers—about six months or so.Out of respect for the former director, they wrote me an enthusiastic letter back.Explain that although the plot of the novel is interesting and worthy of publication, this kind of book does not belong to the reading materials published by this publishing house.I think this is just an excuse for them. I tried to vote for another publisher, but the result was returned the same as the previous few times.I'm already disheartened.At this time, the publishers, Bodley Head and John Rice, had two new detective novels, and I thought I might as well try them, and I wrapped up and sent them off without thinking about them. Later, Archie came back suddenly, and he was transferred to the Air Force Command in London.The war has been going on for four years, and I have become accustomed to the daily work in the hospital and life at home, and suddenly I have to change my habitual life.I'm really at a loss. I came to London and settled down temporarily in a hotel with Archie.I started looking around for a furnished unit.We found two suitable houses.After many comparisons.In the end, an old-style house on High Terrace Street in North Wake was selected.I rent a two-room apartment.The rooms are spacious and the furniture is dated.Rent two and a half ducats a week.After the house was settled, I went home to pack my luggage.Auntie cried.Mother wanted to cry but held back.She said, "You're going to live another life with your husband, my dear. I wish you all the best." "If your beds are made of wood, don't forget to check for bedbugs," said my aunt. I went back to London and moved in with Archie at 5 High Terrace, Northwick.Our house also had a small kitchen and a small bedroom attached.I plan to hire a cook.But at first it was Bartlett, Archie's orderly.He had been a servant to the dukes, and had joined the army when the war broke out.He is very quick and impeccable.There were many deficiencies in this house, the worst of which was the bed, which was covered with big crooked iron nails.But our life is happy.I plan to attend lectures and learn shorthand and accounting to fill the day's leisure.With that, I said goodbye to Ashfield and started a new life—a real married life. It is well known that newly married women tend to feel lonely.Men have jobs and go out all day, but once a woman gets married, she often changes to a brand new living environment and has to start from scratch and come into contact with strangers.Make new friends and find new ways to spend the time.Before the war I had a few friends in London, but they have gone their separate ways now. I am somewhat lonely, miss the life in the hospital and the old friends there, miss my lovely home.At the same time, I also realized that it was inevitable.Learning shorthand and accounting has brought me joy.Some 14-year-old and 15-year-old girls in my class can make great progress in learning shorthand without any effort, which often makes me feel inferior.But when it comes to accounting, I've always had the edge. One day, during class at a business school, the teacher suddenly interrupted the lecture and walked out of the classroom.He came back and shouted: "It's over! The war is over!" It seems unbelievable.There was no obvious sign that the war was coming to an end, and it was expected to drag on for at least a year and a half.The situation on the French battlefield has not improved, and the two sides of the war are in a state of tug of war. I walked into the street in a daze, and the scene that suddenly appeared in front of me made me feel terrified, and I can't forget it to this day.The streets were full of women, singing and dancing happily. English women are not used to dancing in the street, which is in line with the French character.Today, they were uncharacteristically shouting and laughing, singing and dancing, pushing and hugging, it was a carnival.There was something frightening about the scene, and one could not help thinking that if there were any Germans around at this moment, they would surely step up and tear them to pieces. My daughter Rosalind was born in Ashfield.On the night of delivery, mother and nurse Pemberton ran around getting all the essentials ready.Archie and I were overwhelmed and a little apprehensive.Like two children forgotten by adults.Archie told me later that he was convinced at the time that if anything happened to me he would be solely responsible; I also thought I might die.If that were the case, I would be terribly sad, and I love life. I married the man I loved, had a child, and had my own place.It seems to me that this happy life will last forever. One day a letter came to me: I tore it apart and read it absently.The letter was from John Rice of Bodley Head Publishing Company, inviting me to consult with the publishing company on a draft of "The Mysterious Case of Stiles" which I had sent. To be honest, I had long since forgotten about this novel.The manuscript was under pressure for nearly two years at Bodley Head Publishing Company.We've had decent families since the war ended.Having lived the sweet life, my interest in writing and my hopes for that manuscript have faded. I left with high hopes.They must have had some interest in my manuscript, or they wouldn't have invited me there.I was ushered into John Leith's office.He stood up and greeted me.He was a small man with a gray beard, gentle demeanor, and blue eyes with a sly gleam that should have alarmed me.He politely asked me to sit down.I looked around, all the chairs in the room were occupied by those old famous paintings, there was nowhere to sit.Suddenly realizing this, he smiled and said, "Oh my God, there's not even a place to sit." He moved a portrait off a chair for me to sit on. Then, he talked about the manuscript.Some people who read the manuscript thought it was okay, maybe sold.Just some places need to be modified.For example, the part describing the court in the last chapter is too far from the actual court, which will make a joke.He asked me if I could use another form for the ending of the novel, otherwise I would have to find someone who knows the law to help me revise, which is not easy to do.I immediately replied that I could try to make some changes.Except for the last chapter, he also raises some irrelevant questions. Then, he talked about the issue of remuneration, pointing out that because of publishing the work of an unknown author, the company has to take a lot of risks, and how it is not profitable to publish such a book.Finally he took out a contract from the drawer and asked me to sign it.It did not occur to me at the time that I should carefully consider the content of the contract.I just thought that my book might be published.For several years I had lost faith in publishing, and was content to publish only a short poem or a short story now and then.Now that there is hope of publishing a book, I am willing to sign anything.The contract stipulated that the company would only pay me a small manuscript fee if the book sold more than two thousand copies.The publisher owns half of the copyright for long-form serialization and adaptation into screenplays.None of this matters to me, as long as the book can be published, I am willing to accept any conditions. I didn't even notice that there is another clause in the contract, which stipulates that my next five novels can only be sent to this publishing company.The remuneration is only slightly higher than the first part. I gladly signed the contract, took the manuscript home, and quickly corrected the last chapter. Since then, I officially started a long writing career, 3 When the last chapter of The Mysterious Case of Stiles was corrected, I sent it back to John Rice.Later, some small changes were made to individual places.After the excitement, life returned to its former tranquility.We love each other like thousands of ordinary young couples and live happily ever after.Although we are not rich, we don't have to worry about living.We used to go to the country at weekends, and sometimes we went on excursions outside of London. The great-aunt died shortly after Rosalind was born.She had been in good health until suddenly she came down with bronchitis and heart failure.She was ninety-two years old when she died. Although she was almost blind in both eyes, she was not very deaf.Her monthly income has been transferred to her mother's name.This was not a great deal, since some stocks had fallen in value during the war.The aunt's income of three or four hundred pounds a year, together with an allowance provided by Mr. Gifflin to the mother, enabled the mother to support the front of the house. Despite skyrocketing prices after the war, she managed to keep Ashfield afloat.I was ashamed that I couldn't help my mother with a small sum of money from my own income, as my sister had done.We really can't do this, and every penny we have on hand is worth spending in half. One day, when I was talking anxiously about the difficulty of keeping Ashfield, Archie said: "Your mother should sell it and move somewhere else." "Sell Ashfield?" "I don't see it doing you any good." What's the use, you can't go there often." "I can't bear to sell it. I love this house, it's our everything!" "Then why don't you do something about it?" "What do you mean?" "You can Write another novel." I looked at him in surprise. "Write it, and it'll be done soon, but what help will that do Ashfield?" "It might make a lot of money," said Archie. I don't think it's possible. The Mysterious Case of Stiles sold nearly 2,000 copies.For an unknown author to sell so many copies of a detective novel, it was already impressive at the time.It only earned me twenty-five pounds: the twenty-five pounds was not the remuneration paid to me, the twenty-five pounds was paid to Time Magazine, which bought the continuous publication rights of this novel at fifty times. My half of the copyright.According to Teresa, it is a great honor for a young writer to be serialized in Time Magazine.However, this twenty-five pounds income did not arouse my ambition to make a fortune in my writing career. "If the book is good and the publisher makes money again, he's sure to want your book again. The pay will be higher every time." I agreed with Archie, admiring his shrewdness.I started thinking about another novel.What should be the theme this time?One day I was drinking tea in a small trattoria when I heard two people at another nearby table talking about a man named Jane Fish.The name immediately caught my interest.I walked out of the little shop with the name Jane Fish still on my mind.I think this is a good start to a story-in a snack bar, I occasionally heard a name of Chichi, and anyone who heard it would remember it.Jane Fish... maybe Jane Finn would be more appropriate.I finally decided to use the name of Jane Fern in the book, and started writing right away.I began to title the novel A Pleasant Adventure, then changed it to The Young Adventurer, and finally settled on it. At that time, many young people were in a desperate situation.They can't find work after they retire.There are always some young people who ring our doorbell to sell us stockings and small household essentials.People sympathized with these young people, and in order not to disappoint them, often bought a pair or two of low-quality stockings.Most of them used to be lieutenants and captains in the army, and now they are in this state. The main characters in my novel are such a young man and woman—the girl once served in the logistics unit; the boy served in the army.They were on the verge of despair, looking for work everywhere, and then the two met together and started tracking and surveillance activities.This is a thriller.After writing the detective novel The Mysterious Case of Stiles, I wanted to switch things up and write a thriller. It is a pleasure to write novels on this subject.Often much easier than writing a detective story. I finished the whole book in no time, and entrusted it to Mr. John Rice.He is not very interested in this novel, because it is not the same kind of subject as the previous one, the sales will not be as good as the previous one, and they are still hesitant to publish it.Later, the company finally decided to publish.There is not much that needs to be changed in this novel. As far as I know, the novel is selling extremely well.I got a small fee for writing. "Time" bought the serialization rights of the novel again, and I got a serialization fee of fifty pounds.This time, I was greatly encouraged, but still dare not have the luxury of becoming a professional writer. My third book, Suspicious Clouds on the Golf Course, was written after a sensational lawsuit in France.The plot of the story is that a group of masked men suddenly broke into a house, killed the owner, and tied up his wife.Cover her mouth with something.Her mother also suffocated to death when her dentures got stuck in her throat.The mistress' account was questioned, and it was suggested that she had murdered her husband, and that she had been falsely bound by accomplices.I think this material is good, and I can conceive my story based on this plot.I started from the life of the wife after she was acquitted, and the mistress first appeared as a murderer who had been at large for many years.The story takes place in France. The character of Hercule Poirot is very successful in The Mystery of Styles.Someone suggested that I continue to use this character.One of the people who liked Poirot was Bruce Ingram, the editor of the Essay magazine, who contacted me about writing a series of stories about Poirot for the Essay magazine.I am very happy, I finally succeeded - it is not easy to publish works on "Essays"!He also had a portrait of Poirot painted, which was very similar to the Poirot I had in mind, but shrewder and more gentlemanly than I had imagined.Bruce Ingram asked me to write a set of twelve stories.I quickly wrote eight of them.I thought eight would be enough, but later decided to write twelve.In this way, the last four stories were written hastily. I did not realize at the time that I was bound not only to detective fiction, but to Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings as well.I adore Captain Hastings.He and Poirot were the ideal couple in the detective work.In this novel, I still follow the Sherlock Holmes-style creation mode-the eccentric detective, the shadowy assistant, the detective and the prosecutor of the Scottish Police Service.Only one more French police officer was added—Prosecutor Girard.Girard despised Poirot, thinking he was old and useless. Only then did I realize that I had made a serious mistake.It's too old to write Hercule Poirot from the start.I should have given up on this character after the first three or four novels.Use a young and strong character. "Suspicious Clouds on the Golf Course" is also somewhat influenced by "Mystery of the Yellow House".In my opinion, "Suspicious Clouds on the Golf Course" is a better example of this kind of novel, although it is somewhat over-the-top plot.In the book, I arranged for Hastings to have an affair.If I had been interested in the love story in the book, I think I might have let Hastings start a family.To be honest, I already kind of hated him.I might stick with Poirot, but there's no need to keep Hastings. Suspicious Clouds on the Golf Course was just right for Bodley Head.But because of the cover design, I had a little disagreement with them.The cover of the novel is not only tacky in color but also badly composed, showing a man in pajamas dying of a seizure on a golf course. The actual storyline in the book is that the victim was stabbed to death with a dagger in civilian clothes. The cover of the book may not reflect the content of the book, but it should never show false clues in the book.I'm very angry at this poor design.Later, both parties agreed that future cover designs must be reviewed by me before they can be used. After the publication of "The Mysterious Case of Stiles", many magazines published critical review articles.One of my favorites is a review published in the Journal of Pharmaceutical Sciences.The article praised: "This detective novel is different from those novels about poisoning cases that are made up indiscriminately. It shows the author's rich and profound knowledge of pharmacology. In this regard, Miss Agatha Christie can be called an expert." I had intended to use the pseudonym of Martin West or Moslyn Gray when publishing my novel.John Leith insisted that I use my real name, Agatha Christie.Especially my Christian name.He said, "Agatha is a peculiar name that people remember easily." I had to give up my original plan and keep using the name Agatha Christie.I think that a book, especially a detective story, which bears a woman's name loses its appeal to the reader.Martin West is a powerful name.However, as I said before, people are willing to give in to all kinds of demands when publishing their first works. John Leith captured exactly this psychology of mine. Archie had a friend, Major Belcher, who had been in the Army the year the war broke out and was later in charge of the country's potato supply.One night, he came to our house for dinner.At this time he was no longer in charge of the potato supply.He told us about his next steps. "Did you know? In a year and a half, the Empire Expo will be held. Start organizing and planning now. All colonial territories of the British Empire must be notified in advance, and they must actively cooperate and make preparations. I was ordered by the British Empire to tour the world Everywhere, starting in February." He detailed his plan, "I now need a financial advisor to go with me. How are you, Archie?You were an outstanding student at Clifton and worked in the London business world, and you are just what I want. " "I have a job now and I can't live without it," Archie said. "Why can't you leave? Explain it to your boss." Archie said.It is impossible for the boss of the company to open up like this. "You think it over, boy. I wish you would come with me. Agatha can come too. I can tell you the itinerary. We'll go to South Africa first, with you, me, and a secretary. The Heims will too. Come with us. I don't know if you've ever heard of Heim, the potato king of East England, an old friend of mine. He took his wife and daughter with him. But they only went as far as South Africa, because the sea Tom has a lot of business to do in England. We'll then go to Australia and from there to New Zealand and stay there for a while - I have a lot of friends there; I like that country. We'll have about a month's holiday. If you'd like If so, you can take this opportunity to go to Honolulu." "Honolulu," I repeated in a low voice that sounded like a dream. "The last stop is Canada, and then return home from there. The whole journey will take about nine to ten months. What do you think?" Archie and I weighed it seriously.Archie's entire costs are borne by the state.In addition, he can also get a subsidy of 1,000 pounds.If I had accompanied me, my travel expenses would not have been a problem, as I was traveling as Archie's wife.You can take the ships and trains of these countries for free. We carefully budgeted the various expenses for this trip.In general, we can basically afford it.Archie's £1,000 stipend would pay for my hotel stay and our two-holiday trip to Honolulu.Although money is a bit tight, it can still be handled. Archie and I had taken short vacations abroad before this: once to the Pyrenees in southern France; another to Switzerland.We both love to travel as a couple - I've had a taste of travel since I was seven years old.I am eager to travel the world, looking forward to China, Japan, India and Hawaii, and many other wonderful places. "The question is whether the boss of the company will be kind to us." Archie had some concerns. I reassured him that he must be someone the boss valued, and Archie worried that someone as shrewd as himself would fill his vacancy.Thousands of people are running around looking for work.The boss of the company still didn't show mercy.He only indicated that Archie may hire him again when he returns, but it depends.He was determined not to keep a place for Archie. "It's a risk, a terrible risk," I sigh. "It's a risk. It's quite possible that we'll come back penniless, with nothing more than a hundred or so a year, and work will be hard to find, perhaps harder than it is now. But then again, if If you don’t take such a risk, you will never go out to see the world, don’t you think?” I nodded. “这主要看你了。”阿尔奇说，“怎么安排特迪？”我们当时称罗莎琳德为特迪，大概是因为我们有一次曾开玩笑地叫她蝌蚪的缘故。 “宠基（我们大家都这样称呼麦琪）可以照看特迪，要不然就交给妈妈。她们都会愿意照看的。这件事问题不大。这是我们惟一的机会。”我满怀希望地说道。 我们权衡利弊，斟酌再三，最后终于下定决心，冒一次风险。 我们没有花费多少周折就把家里的一切安排妥当。我们把住的那一套房子以偏高一些的价格出租。多出来的钱作为工资支付给杰西。母亲和姐姐都愿意把罗莎琳德和保姆接到她们那儿住。就在即将出发之际，我们得知哥哥蒙蒂将要从非洲回来休假。姐姐对我不打算留在家里等哥哥回来感到异常地愤慨。 “你惟一的哥哥，离家这么多年，在战争中又负了伤，现在要回家看看，你却偏偏在这个时候出国游山玩水。真可耻。你应该把你的哥哥摆在首位。” “我不这样认为，”我反驳道，“我应该把丈夫摆在首位。 他要去旅行，我要陪同他一块去。作妻子的应该呆在丈夫身边。 " “蒙蒂是你惟一的兄弟，这是你多年来惟一的一次能见他的机会，也许以后又要等好多年才能兄妹团圆。” 麦琪搞得我心烦意乱。母亲坚定地站在我一边。她说：“妻子的职责就是守候在丈夫的身旁。首先考虑的应该是丈夫，他甚至比孩子还重要。兄弟就差得更远了。千万记住，如果你不呆在丈夫身边，与他分开太久，你就会失去他。像阿尔奇这样的男人更是如此。”