Chapter 34 first quarter

As Ray was walking home, a man in a cape came up to him.She took off her hood and breathed heavily, exhaled air wafting from behind her black veil.Mabel Lowell took off her veil and glared at Sergeant Ray. "Officer. Do you remember me? You came to see Professor Lowell. There is something I think you should look at." As she spoke, she took out a thick package from her cloak. "How did you find me, Miss Lowell?" "It's Mabel. Do you think it's hard to find a mulatto officer in Boston?" She curled her lips and smiled smugly. Ray stopped and looked at the package.He picked up a few pages. "I don't think I need this. Isn't it your father's?"

"Yes," she said.It turned out to be the proof copy of Longfellow's translation of The Divine Comedy, on which Lowell had densely written marginal notes. "I think papa has found something of Dante's poetry in these murders. I don't know the details. You must, and try not to, tell him about it lest he get very angry, so please don't say you saw pass me." "Okay, Miss Lowell." Ray sighed. "It's Mabel." Looking into Ray's sincere eyes, she was determined not to let him see her despair, "Thank you, officer. They were talking about The Divine Comedy—and they sounded distressed and threatened in a tone that didn't befit the people in their translation circle. Later I found a picture with a foot on fire sketches of people, and some clippings of the Reverend Talbot: he was found with his feet scorched, it is said."

Ray took her into the courtyard of a nearby building and found an empty bench and sat down. "Mabel, you must never tell anyone else that you know this," the officer told her. yourself, at your own risk. Someone with a stake in this could use the information." "You already knew that, didn't you? Well, then you must be planning to do something to stop this madness." "Honestly, I don't know." "You can't stand idly by, don't be with my father... Please." She stuffed the proof package into his hand again.Tears welled up involuntarily from her eyes. "Take these. Read them before he notices. Your visit to Craigie's must have had something to do with that, and I know you can help."

"You don't have to worry about Mr. Lowell." "So you're going to help him?" she asked, her hand on his arm. "Officer, can I help? Whatever it is, just keep Dad safe." Ray remained silent.Passers-by glared at the two of them, and he turned his face away. Mabel smiled sadly, and sat on the other side of the stool indifferently, "I understand. You are like your father when you were young. I think, in some practical matters, I cannot be entrusted with important responsibilities. With Some kind of imagination, I thought you wouldn't think so."

Ray was so full of sympathy for Mabel that he didn't know how to answer. After a while, he said, "Miss Lowell, if you can choose, you shouldn't interfere in this kind of thing." "But I have no choice," she said, and putting on her veil, she made her way to the coach station. At this time, in Cambridge, Lowell saw ghosts. At that time, he was lying in an easy chair enjoying the winter sun, and the phantom of his first love, Maria, clearly appeared in front of his eyes, and he couldn't help walking towards her. "Come on," he repeated, "come on." She said to Lowell, sitting with Walter in her arms, "Look, he's grown into a healthy, strong boy."

Mrs. Lowell decided that he was in a trance, and insisted that Lowell go to bed.She nags about getting a doctor or Dr. Holmes.Lowell was deaf to her words, he was too intoxicated.There is no greater happiness than what we feel when we are sad or remorseful.As Holmes says, joy and sorrow are twins, and they are equally tear-provoking.Lowell's poor young son Walter, Maria's last child to die in infancy, his rightful heir, he seemed to be able to touch; Anything, anything but lovely Maria.Walter's apparition had not been quite a vision, now it was a vague feeling that followed him secretly, lurking inside him like a pregnant woman feeling the squeeze of her fetus in her womb.He also thought he saw Pietro Bacchi passing him, greeting him with a mocking look on his face, as if to say: "I'm going to stay here all the time, so you can remember your failure." ’” You never fought for anything, Lowell.

"You're not here!" muttered Lowell, and a thought flashed through his mind: If he hadn't been so sure Bucky had committed a crime from the beginning, if he had had Holmes' fierce skepticism, perhaps they would have discovered The murderer had been killed, and Phoenix Jannison might not have been killed.Then, just as he was about to ask a shopkeeper in the street for a glass of water, he saw a man in a shiny white overcoat and a tall white silk hat, holding a walking with brisk steps, contentedly. Phoenix Jannison. Lowell wiped his eyes, disbelieving what he had just seen, but he did see Jannison shoving some passers-by with his shoulder, and others giving way to him with strange expressions.That's not a phantom.The flesh and blood is there.

he is alive Jannison!Lowell tried desperately to shout, but his mouth was dry and he couldn't make any sound.He wanted to rush forward, but his legs couldn't move no matter how hard he moved. "Hi, Jannison!" at that moment he yelled loudly, and the tears began to pour down. "Finny, Finny, I'm here, I'm here! I'm Jamie Lovell, do you see? I thought I'd lost you!" Lovell rushed up from the pedestrians and turned Janison's shoulder.Facing him was the painful face of a mixed race!It was indeed Phoenix Jannison's coat and hat, and it was indeed his beautiful cane, but the man wearing the coat and hat and holding the cane was an old man in a tattered waistcoat, with dirty, Unshaven, oddly shaped beard.He shivered under Lowell's grasp.

"Jenison," Lovell said. "Don't tell me, sir, I need to stay in a warm..." The old man explained: he was the vagabond who swam to the abandoned castle that day from a nearby island occupied by an almshouse. Janison's body was found.In the storage room where Janison's body was hung, he saw beautiful clothes neatly folded on the floor, so he copied a few clothes for himself. Lowell remembered, feeling strongly that the lone maggot was migrating inside him, walking alone along the steep and treacherous road, eating into his internal organs.He felt that everything in his gut was coming out of the hole it had left.