Chapter 10 chapter Ten

Charlie's train was leaving at noon.Somewhat to his surprise, Lydia said she wished to see him off.They had a late breakfast and then started packing.Before going downstairs to pay, Charlie counted his bills.There is a lot of money left. "Can you do me a favor?" he asked. "What's the matter?" "May I leave you some money for emergencies?" "I don't want your money." She smiled. "If you want, you can give me a thousand francs to pass on to Evgenia. It will be a godsend to her." "okay then." They first took a taxi to Perfume Street in Château d'If where she lived, and she handed her bag to the concierge.Then they took a taxi to Gare du Nord.Lydia walked him along the platform, and he bought some English papers.He found his seat in the luxury car.Lydia entered the carriage with him and looked around.

"You know, this is the first time in my life I've been in a first class car," she said. The words startled Charlie.He suddenly understood a life that was not only completely devoid of the luxuries of the rich, but also without the comforts of the well-to-do.He felt a pang in his heart as he thought of her miserable past, present, and future. "Oh, I usually travel third class in England too," he said apologetically, "but my father said one should travel like a gentleman on the Continent." "It makes a good impression on the locals." Charlie laughed, blushing.

"You have a special talent for making me feel stupid." They walked back and forth on the platform, trying to be like ordinary people, trying to find something to say on such an occasion.But they don't seem to find anything worth saying.Charlie wondered if it occurred to her that they might never see each other again in their lifetime.It was a strange feeling to think that for five days they had been practically inseparable, and within an hour they were going to be apart.But the train is about to start, and he holds out his hand to say goodbye to her.She folded her arms across her chest.It was strange how she kept moving his heart like this.It was the same way she folded her arms across her chest when she cried in her dream.She looks up, and to his surprise, he sees her crying.He put his arms around her and kissed her on the lips for the first time.She broke free, turned and ran, and quickly disappeared under the platform.Charlie slipped into his compartment with a strange uneasiness in his heart.But the sumptuous lunch and half a bottle of ordinary Chablis restored his peace of mind.Then he lit his pipe and began to read The Times.This is a kind of spiritual comfort for him.Printing articles on the sturdy paper, which conveyed a sense of trust, seemed to him a pleasing British touch.He began to flip through the newspapers with pictures printed one after another, his mood was cloudy and uncertain.When he reached Calais, he began to feel unbearable pain in his heart again.As soon as he was on board, he ordered a shot of Scotch.Then he stepped up on deck and watched with satisfaction the waves of the strait, traditionally controlled by the British.The towering white cliffs on the shore of Dover look grand and imposing.He heaved a long sigh of relief as he set foot on solid English soil again.He felt as if he had been away from England for a long time.He also took pleasure in hearing the voices of the English porters; and he only laughed at the gruff manner of the British customs officials, who seemed to regard everyone who passed through them as criminals.In two hours, he will be back home.His father always said:

"There is only one thing better than leaving England and that is coming back to England." What happened during his vacation in Paris seemed to have become a blurred memory.Just like when you suddenly wake up from a nightmare, you will still tremble all over your body, but as the things of the day gradually increase in your memory, after a while you don’t remember what the dream was about, you just remember doing it yourself Had a bad dream.Charlie didn't know if someone would pick him up, it would be nice to see a familiar face on the platform.When the train stopped at Victoria Station and he stepped out of the carriage, he saw his mother almost immediately.She put her arms around his neck and kissed him as if he had been gone for months.

"I told your father that he was going to see you off, and then I will pick you up. Patsy wanted to come too, but I didn't agree. I want to have you alone for a few minutes." Oh, what a wonderful feeling of security surrounded by family affection! "Mother, you old fool. It's cold tonight, and there's a draft on the platform, and you're going to catch a cold." Arm in arm, they walked happily to the parking place.Then drive to Porchester Street.Leslie Mason stepped into the hall at once when she heard the front door open.After hearing the movement, Patsy also rushed downstairs and threw herself into Charlie's arms.

"Come into my study and we'll have a drink. There's the whiskey. You must be freezing." Charlie pulled two bottles of perfume from his coat pocket.It was a present he had bought for his mother and Patsy, and Lydia had chosen it. "I smuggled it in," he said triumphantly. "These two women should smell good again," said Leslie Mason cheerfully. "I bought you a tie from Charvain especially, Dad." "Is it brightly colored?" "Very colorful." "very good." The whole family was very happy after meeting, and there was constant laughter in the house.Leslie Mason poured a glass of whiskey and insisted that his wife drink some in case she caught a cold.

"Charlie, do you have something exciting to tell us?" Patsy asked. "No." "Liar." "Well, you'll have to tell all the stories to us all later," said Mrs. Mason, "but for now, you'd better go and have a good hot bath before we eat supper." "It's all ready for you." Patsy said, "I put half a bottle of bath salt in the tub." The way his family treated him as if he had just returned from an incredible trek in the North Pole warmed his heart. "Why don't you go home?" His mother looked at him lovingly and asked.

"that is really good." When Leslie walked into his wife's room to chat with her, she was having a facial.She turned to him anxiously and said: "He looks pale, Leslie." "Takes a little longer in the shower. I've noticed." "His face was so haggard. The moment he stepped out of the carriage, I felt a twinge of anxiety, but I observed it more clearly when I got home. His face was as pale as a ghost." "He was all right after a day or two. I think he's had a little fling. Judging by the look on his face, I suspect he's been helping those pretty ladies a little bit, and giving him a life in his old age." Make some contribution."

Mrs. Mason, sitting at the dressing-table in a white China-style jacket trimmed with fur, was carefully stroking her eyebrows.After hearing her husband's words, she turned around suddenly with an eyebrow pencil in her hand. "What do you mean, Leslie? You're not saying he's been hanging out with a lot of horrible foreign women all this time?" "Think about it, Venetia. What do you think he's going to do in Paris?" "To see the paintings and to see Simon, and to practice his French. He's only a boy." "Don't be a fool, Venetia. He's twenty-three. You don't think he's still a virgin, do you?"

"I find men disgusting." Her voice was hoarse.Leslie saw that she was really angry, so he put his hand on her shoulder and said to her reassuringly: "Honey, you don't want your only son to be a eunuch, do you?" Mrs. Mason didn't know whether she wanted to cry or laugh. "Don't take me seriously." She giggled. Half an hour later, Charlie, in his second-best tuxedo, was eating dinner with his family at the Chippendale table, more contented than ever.His father wore a velvet coat, his mother a lavender silk gown, and Patsy a rose chiffon dress for a girl.The Georgian silver flatware in the dining room, the frosted candles, the lace napkins Mrs Mason bought from Florence, and the cut glass are all beautiful.But most of all, the objects feel familiar and familiar.The paintings on the walls are all equipped with lighting strips, and each painting has something to admire.Two maids in neat brown uniforms add to the elegance of the interior.Everything about Charlie felt safe at home, and the outside world seemed far away.Exquisite home-cooked dishes can not only satisfy people's appetite, but also meet the requirements of health without making people fat.In the fireplace, the fire light of the electric stove that simulates the burning of wood is very realistic and cozy.Leslie Mason looked at the menu on the table.

"I see we're giving the returning prodigal the best possible treat." He looked up, giving his wife a mischievous look. "What good things did you eat in Paris, Charlie?" asked Mrs. Mason. "I don't eat in fancy restaurants. We usually eat in small restaurants in the Latin Quarter." "Oh. So who are 'us'?" Charlie hesitated for a moment, then flushed. "I dined with Simon, you know that." It's not a lie either.His answer deftly conceals the truth, but at the same time does not lie.Mrs. Mason noticed her husband give her a meaningful look, but she ignored it.She continued to gaze at her son with gentle and kind eyes.He was so innocent that it never occurred to him that they were probing the depths of his soul, trying to discover the secrets he might be hiding there. "Have you gone to see the painting?" she asked kindly. "I've been to the Louvre. I'm a little fond of Chardin." "Really?" said Leslie Mason. "I've never found his pictures attractive to me. I've always thought his pictures were kind of dull." He remembered a quip and his eyes lit up, " You know I know I like Charvin better than Chardin. At least his clothes are stylish." "Your father is really unbearable." Mrs. Mason smiled indulgently. "Chardin is a very conscientious painter, one of the second-rate masters of the eighteenth century. Of course, he cannot be called a great one. painter." While they would have liked to hear Charlie tell stories about their time in Paris, they were actually more eager to tell him stories about their time together.The party at Wilfred's had turned into a carnival, and they came back exhausted.The night after they got home, they all fell into bed as soon as dinner was over.From this point you can see how happy they are. "Someone proposed to Patsy," said Leslie Mason. "Exciting, isn't it?" cried Patsy. "Unfortunately, the poor boy was only sixteen. So I told him I was a bad woman, but not bad enough to throw a baby Snatched from the cradle. I kissed him on the forehead and told him I'd be his sister." Patsy gushed her story, and Charlie listened, smiling.Mrs. Mason took this opportunity to take a good look at him.He was very handsome indeed, made even more handsome by his pallor.Thinking of how much those women in Paris liked him, she had a small strange feeling in her heart.She guessed he must have been to those horrible places.The people who go to those places are usually potbellied, hairless, repulsive old fellows, and he's so young, fresh and charming, he must have charmed the women there!She wanted to know what kind of girl he was with, and she hoped the girl was young and pretty too.It is said that men are always attracted to girls who resemble their mothers.She was sure her son would be a fascinating lover, and she couldn't help being proud of him.After all, he was his own son, conceived in his own womb.He is his heart and soul.His face looked so pale and tired.Mrs. Mason had a strange idea that she might not have anyone in this world to whom she could tell her heart.She was sad and a little jealous.Yes, she was jealous of the girls he slept with.But at the same time she was proud, very proud.Because he was strong, handsome, full of masculinity. Leslie interrupted Patsy's spouting nonsense and interrupted her thoughts. "Shall we tell him the big secret, Venetia?" "Of course I'll tell him." "But remember, Charlie, secrecy. Sir Wilfred specifically mentioned this. The Conservatives, wanting to find a stable seat in Parliament for a former Governor-General of India, proposed that Wilfred give himself up. A seat in Parliament, but in exchange for a peerage. What do you think?" "It's really nice." "Of course, he pretended to be indifferent to it on the surface, but he was ecstatic in his heart. You know, it's good for all of us. I mean, if a person in this family gets a knighthood, then , everyone will be honored by it. Moreover, we can also gain a certain social status by virtue of this. Think about our social status at the beginning..." "Okay, okay, Leslie." Mrs. Mason said, and glanced at the two maids at the same time, "Don't talk about this." The two maids left the restaurant immediately.She added as soon as they were out the door: "Your father is going crazy for telling everyone he's born. Let it go and I really think it's time to do it. ...when we're with people on our level who think it's cool to have a grandfather who was a gardener and a grandmother who was a cook, it's not too bad. But we don't have to tell people .When they know this, they will only think that we are not much better than them." "I don't find it embarrassing. After all, England's most prominent family comes from as humble a background as we do. We turned around in less than a century." Mrs. Mason and Patsy got up and left the dining room, and Charlie stayed with his father for a glass of port.Leslie Mason told him that together they had discussed the title of Peerage that Sir Wilfred should be given.It's not as easy as you might think to find a title that hasn't been conferred on anything yet, that has something to do with you, and sounds dignified. "I think we'd better be in the ladies' camp," said Leslie when the incident was over. "I thought your mother might want to play bridge and win a hand before she went to bed." When they reached the door of the restaurant, Leslie put his hand on his son's shoulder and said: "You look a little pale, old man. I think you may have been a little overworked in Paris. Of course, you're young, so that's not surprising." He suddenly felt a little embarrassed. Mind your own business, but I think there will be some disputes in a harmonious family, and there are some things that father and son don't need to avoid. What I want to say is that if you feel that there is something wrong with your body, don't hesitate to see a doctor immediately .You were brought into this world by old Cinary, so you don't need to be ashamed to face him. His medical skills are very good, and he will heal you quickly. You don't have to worry about the cost, and no one will ask you What. That's all I want to tell you. Now let's go and spend time with your poor mother." After Charlie understood the meaning of his father's words, his face turned purple eggplant color.He felt he should say something, but had nothing to say. Patsy was playing a Chopin waltz when they entered the living room.When she finished, his mother asked Charlie to play something too. "You haven't played the piano since you left home, have you?" "One afternoon, I played some pieces on the hotel piano, but the quality of the piano was very poor." He sat down at the piano and began to play a piece by Scriabin.Lydia had thought he played the piece very badly.As he began to play, he recalled suddenly the cellar where Lydia had taken him; the rough men with whom he had befriended; Russian woman with eyes; remembering her wild and bold songs in tragic tones.In the process of tapping the keys, he seemed to hear her hoarse and harsh but touching singing voice.Leslie Mason's ear is very sensitive to music. "This piece you're playing is a little different from what you're used to playing," Charlie said as he stood up from the piano. "I don't feel any difference, is that really the case?" "Yeah, it sounds completely different. You get a little excited when you play, and that makes a difference." "I prefer your old style of playing, Charlie. You sounded a little melancholy just now," said Mrs. Mason. The family sat down to play bridge. Leslie said: "It's like going back in time. We haven't played bridge since you went on holiday." Leslie Mason had a theory that he believed that the way a person played bridge revealed a lot about his character.He considers himself a brave, generous and free-spirited person, so he always rushes to bid and doubles recklessly.He didn't think skidding was British enough.Mrs. Mason, on the contrary, played her cards strictly according to the Culbertson bidding system.She always racked her brains and calculated before deciding to call, and never took any chances.Patsy was the only member of the family with a talent for bridge.She plays cards boldly and intelligently, and seems to intuitively know what cards are in other people's hands.She made no secret of her disdain for her parents' poker skills.She was domineering at the poker table.The scene at the poker table tonight was the same as it has been on countless nights before.After Leslie contended, his daughter doubled, doubled, and must win fourteen hundred points.Although Mrs. Mason had a big hand, she just ignored her partner's repeated bidding signals for a slam.Charlie, on the other hand, was a little absent-minded. "Why don't you come up with cubes? You fool," Patsy yelled. "Why should I make a cube?" "Didn't you see I played a nine and then a six?" "Oh, I didn't notice." "My God, do I have to play my whole life with someone who doesn't know how to save the ace of spades for last?" "It's just a little bit of a different strategy." "A little different? A little different can change the world." None of them took Patsy's indignant words seriously.They just laughed, and Patsy thought their poker skills were hopeless, so she just had fun with them.Leslie calculated the score carefully and wrote it down.They played pennies a hundred, but they pretended to play a pound a hundred, because it looked better and was more exciting.Sometimes Leslie's tally of losses totaled fifteen hundred pounds, and he would say with a serious face that if this went on he'd have to sell the car and take the bus to the office. When the clock struck twelve, they stopped playing cards and said goodnight to each other.Charlie went into his warm and cozy bedroom and began to undress.But suddenly he felt very tired, and he sank down into the armchair.He thought he'd better smoke another pipe before going to bed.The night that had just passed was no different from countless other nights he had experienced, but tonight he felt especially warm and familiar.Everything was so familiar and lovely, and everything passed before his eyes exactly as he hoped.It seems that nothing can compare with this colorful and reassuring life.Yet he could not explain in any way why he was always feeling anxiously a hint that this night was nothing but a semblance.Like a parlor game grown-ups play with children.He remembered the nightmare, in which Lydia was wearing eye shadow, pink nipples, wearing blue Turkish trousers and a blue turban, dancing in the Sultan's palace, or naked and humiliating. Lying in the arms of a man she loathes, and feeling a cruel passion for the humiliation; a moment's Simon, finishing his office work, walking down the deserted Left Bank Avenue, in his mad twisted mind Possibly grappling with some monstrous plan again; for a moment there were Alexei and Evgenia, whom Charley had never met, but who, from Lydia's description, seemed familiar to him, he I believe that if I meet them on the street, I will be able to recognize them; Alexei is drunk, he may be crying because of his sadness after drinking, and scolding his son for his depravity, Evgenia is because of life. Weeping so hard and softly, her hands were still doing needlework, sewing desperately for a living; for a while, it was the two prisoners who had been released from prison, their eyes seemed to be staring at each other. They may be sitting in that smoky dim basement with a glass of beer on each table in front of them, hiding in the crowd to temporarily escape the ubiquitous subject. The terror of surveillance; now Robert Berger, far off the coast of South America, in a red and white striped prison uniform, with an ugly straw hat on his bald head, coming out of the hospital on an errand, who might Turning his eyes to the endless sea, he weighed the possibility of escaping, and for a while he would think of Lydia with tolerance.Charlie was thankful he had woken from this nightmare, but there was a terrifying reality to it that made everything else seem unreal.There seemed to be a force, a vague meaning, for the life he shared with his family—his father, his mother, his sister, the three people closest to him—and the wider world. Yes, the boring but decent life in the comfortable environment that chance has arranged for him has become a shadow play.Patsy had asked him if he had had any adventures while in Paris, and he had honestly answered no.In fact he did nothing.His father thought he must have been with a lot of women during his time in Paris, fearing that he had contracted a venereal disease, but he hadn't even touched a single woman.There was only one thing that happened to him, and it was inexplicable, and he didn't know what to do with it, and that was that his life lost all meaning.