"This is it, this is Spiro's Restaurant." Laffle said.Costain looked up and saw a brown, square building like any other on the dirty, dark, deserted street.At their feet was the barred basement window, and a faint light shone through the thick curtains. "Holy shit," said Costain, looking at the building, "this place looks like a broken bomb shelter, doesn't it?" "I hope you can understand." LaFleur said bluntly, "Spiro's restaurant does not attract diners with a fancy appearance. In times of depression and turmoil, this restaurant can also maintain what it is now. Maybe this restaurant is the city's It is the only remaining gas lamp store in the city. Here, you can feel the atmosphere of antique furniture and use exquisite antique tableware. Also, if you sit in the innermost seat, you may be able to see half of the The spider web that was knotted in the corner of the wall a century ago!"

"It doesn't sound reassuring at all," Costain said, "and it doesn't sound like the restaurant is hygienic." "Once you step into this restaurant," LaFleur continued, "you find yourself cut off from the crazy world outside the door, where you're no longer bound by the year, the day, the moment, but by feeling To relax the soul. This kind of spiritual sublimation cannot be brought by extravagant possessions, but can only be brought by the noble inner temperament that is lacking in our era.” Costan laughed unnaturally, and said, "This place doesn't look like a restaurant, it looks like a cathedral."

With the faint light of the street lamp overhead, Lafleur looked at his companion's face. "Perhaps," he said unexpectedly, "I shouldn't have brought you here." This made Costan uncomfortable.Although Costan has a scary title and a high salary, facing this proud short man in front of him, he is just an employee working for him.Still, he couldn't quite hide his emotions. "If you really want to," Costan said coldly, "I can change my plans for tonight, and that's fine." A look of surprise flashed across Lafleur's round, fat face, and his eyes were as big as bull's eyes, staring closely at Costan. "No, no," he finally said, "absolutely not. It's very important that you come to Spiro's with me." He took Costan's arm tightly and pulled him toward the restaurant. large iron door in the basement. "In my company, you are the only one who appreciates food. To me, knowing that there is a restaurant as good as Spiro but not having friends to share food with is like locking a unique piece in a room. works of art, but no one shares the same appreciation with me.”

This made Costan much more comfortable. "As far as I know, there are many people in the world who prefer to have it alone." "I'm not that kind of person!" LaFleur said decisively, "The idea of ​​sharing Spiro's restaurant with others has been held in my mind for too long, and I can't bear it anymore." He reached out and groped by the door for a while, and then from From the other side of the closed door came the faint but piercing sound of an old-fashioned rattle.The door was creaked open from the inside, and a black face appeared in front of Costan's eyes, the only thing that could be seen clearly was a row of white teeth.

"Huh?" the black face asked. "Mr. Laffler and a visitor." "Hmm." The black face made the same voice, but this time it was obviously in the tone of greeting the guests, and then moved his body to the side.Costain followed LaFleur down a step.The door closed behind them both.Costan blinked and adjusted for a while, only to realize that he was standing in a small hallway, and the figure he had been staring at just now was just himself in the mirror.The full-length mirror was huge, reaching from the floor to the ceiling. "Creating atmosphere?" he murmured to himself, laughing secretly, and followed the usher to his seat.

The two sat facing each other at a small table for two, and Costan was curious about the decor of the restaurant.The space is not too big, and the only lighting equipment is six gas lamps that flicker on and off.Dim lights sprinkled on the wall, casting weird shadows, making it difficult to tell the distance. There are at most eight to ten tables in the restaurant, ensuring the privacy of the guests to the greatest extent.It was full house today, and the only few waiters shuttled among the diners skillfully and quietly.From time to time in the restaurant, there was a slight clash of tableware and low voices of diners.Costain nodded appreciatively.

Laffler let out a sigh of satisfaction. "I knew you'd be as excited as I am here," he said. "Have you noticed? There isn't a single lady in this restaurant." Costan raised his eyebrows curiously. Laflera continued: "Spiro doesn't welcome women into his shop. And, let me tell you, he really walks the talk. I saw a woman being discriminated against the other day. She sat After waiting for more than an hour, the waiter didn't come to entertain her." "Did she not protest?" "Yes," LaFleur recalled with a smile, "but her protest only brought dissatisfaction from other diners and made her companions look bad."

"How did Mr. Spiro cope?" "He didn't show up. He was either in the shadows watching a joke, or he wasn't in the store at all, I don't know. Either way, he was an absolute winner. That woman will never come again, and The man who brought her here, who is the culprit of the whole incident, will not show up after seeing all this." "This is also a warning to all the guests present." Costan said with a smile. The waiter is here.He has dark chocolate-colored skin, a beautiful model-like high nose bridge and beautifully curved lips, a pair of piercing big eyes under thick eyebrows, and thick silver-white hair covering the top of his head like silk.By these features, Costan judged that he was from the East Indies.The waiter laid out stiff linen napkins, poured two glasses of water from a large cut-glass pitcher, and served them to the two guests.

Laffler couldn't wait to ask: "Will we serve our signature dishes tonight?" The waiter smiled apologetically, revealing a row of neat white teeth. "Sorry, there are no signature dishes tonight." Laffle's face was full of disappointment. "I've waited so long for nothing. I've been waiting for a full month, and I want my friends to try it tonight..." "You know, our signature dish is very troublesome to make." "I know, I know." Laffler looked at Costan helplessly and shrugged, "Look, I've always wanted to treat you to the best signature dish at Spiro Restaurant, but unfortunately, tonight still none."

The waiter interjected, "Sir, do you want to serve you?" Laffler nodded.Costan watched the waiter leave in surprise, and Lafleur hadn't ordered yet. "Did you preorder?" Costain asked. "Oh!" LaFleur said, "I forgot to introduce to you, there is no such thing as a la carte in Spiro's restaurant. All the guests eat the same set of dishes that day, and they will be replaced with another set of new dishes the next day. The guests Can't order food by myself." "How strange!" Costan said, "but, there will inevitably be times when the dishes don't suit your taste? What if some customers don't like the dishes served?"

LaFleur said seriously, "You don't have to worry about that at all. I can assure you that no matter how picky your tongue is, you'll be satisfied with the food at Spiro's." Costain looked skeptical, but Lafleur smiled and said, "And this cunning way has many benefits. Think about it, when you go to a popular restaurant to eat, you usually look at the dazzling menu and worry, think about it, and think about it." This dish, want to eat that dish again, finally order the dish, maybe regret it after a while. This kind of choice often brings a sense of mental oppression to oneself, no matter whether this feeling is strong or weak, it will Made the meal less enjoyable. "Think about the preparation of ingredients in the kitchen. In an ordinary restaurant, the back kitchen is often a bustling scene, and the chef has to prepare hundreds of dishes in a hurry; but this restaurant only needs one chef to be quiet. Working in the kitchen without hesitation and concentrating on one dish. There is no doubt that the final dish is a 100 per cent masterpiece.” "So you visited the kitchen?" "Unfortunately, I don't." LaFleur replied regretfully, "What I just said is just my imagination. Over the years, rumors about the chef of this restaurant have formed such a scene in my head. To be honest, go to Kitchen tours have become my ultimate dream." "Didn't you tell Spiro this wish?" "I've said it a dozen times! But he just shrugs every time." "Does he enjoy this feeling very much?" "No, no." Laffler quickly explained, "True masters of art don't bother with flattery. But," he sighed, "I will never give up." At this time, the waiter came again, carrying two bowls of soup, and placed the soup and the small bowl in front of them as if they had calculated it accurately, then opened the lid of the soup bowl, and carefully poured the clarified soup into the bowl.Curiously, Costan scooped up a spoonful of soup and put it in his mouth.The soup was very bland, almost like plain water.Costan frowned, hesitated for a moment, and decided to add some salt and pepper to taste, but found that there were no seasonings on the table.He looked up and found Lafleur looking at him.He didn't like talking nonsense with his eyes open, but he couldn't bear to pour cold water on the excited Laffler, so he just smiled, pointed at the soup and said, "It's very delicious!" Lafleur also smiled, and said coldly: "It's not delicious at all. The clear soup is watery and tasteless. I know." Costan's eyes widened, and Lafleur ignored him and continued, "It's been a few years. I was like you a while ago, trying to find salt and pepper after a taste. Then I was surprised to find that there was no seasoning on Spiro's table." Costan was stunned and exclaimed, "Not even salt?" "Not even salt. However, the act of asking for some seasoning proves that you still have a sharp tongue. I guarantee that you will eventually find it as I did: you will find it when you are almost finished drinking , This bowl of soup doesn’t need salt at all.” LaFleur was right.Before he even got to the bottom of the bowl, Costan tasted the subtle flavors of the soup, and the growing pleasure it brought him.Laffle pushed his empty bowl aside and put his hands on the table. "Trust my word now?" "Surprisingly," said Costain, "exactly what you said!" While the waiter was busy clearing away the empty bowls, Lafleur said in a low voice: "You will know right away that besides not having any condiments, Spiro has many characteristics. You'd better be mentally prepared, for example, there is never any Of any alcoholic beverage, only clear water, for that is the only thing that is indispensable to human beings." "Indispensable besides breast milk." Costan said coldly. "I assure you, the customers who dine at Spiro are past the breast-feeding stage." Costan laughed and said, "Okay." "Well, besides, smoking is prohibited here." "Oh my God," said Costain, "Spiro is not so much a foodie's Eden as it is a sanctuary for smokers!" Lafleur responded seriously: "I'm afraid, you are confusing the two terms gourmet and foodie. A foodie only focuses on eating, constantly stimulates the appetite, and the more you eat, the more satisfied you are; however, the essence of a gourmet is simplicity. The ancient Greek who eats a hot olive in a plain Heaton costume; or the Japanese who admires the curved curvature of a flower stem in a simple house—they are the real gourmets.” "But," said Costain doubtfully, "it's not too much to have a brandy or a smoke once in a while." “Stimulants or narcotics can destroy the sensitivity of the sense of taste and deprive us of our most precious ability to enjoy food. I have eaten at Spiro a lot over the years and I can attest to this myself.” "I have a question," Costain said. "Why do you give these prohibitions such a high-sounding name? The reason for making the rules may be very common. Maybe it's because it's expensive to sell liquor licenses, or in this small place. The diners in restaurants don't like the smell of cigarettes?" Laffler shook his head violently, and said, "If you've met Spiro, you'll know right away that he's not the type to make decisions for such vulgar reasons. Honestly, I can speculate on those you The so-called 'high-sounding' reason is based on the knowledge of Spiro himself." "This guy is incredible," said Costain just as the waiter was serving the main course. Raffler cut off a large piece of meat and chewed it slowly before speaking again: "I don't use 'best' to describe anyone or anything, but in my opinion, the Spiro restaurant represents the best of human food culture. peak." Costan raised one eyebrow, and began to eat the piece of meat soaked in the muddy gravy in front of him.There wasn't even half a side dish on the plate, and wisps of heat steamed up, wrapped in a faint tempting meaty aroma, and drilled into his nostrils.Costan's mouth couldn't help drooling.He chews a small piece of meat slowly and carefully, as if analyzing a complex Mozart symphony.He first bites into the crispy skin of a piece of meat, and then presses his cheeks hard, bloody gravy oozes from the half-cooked meat, the gravy is very light, but satisfying.The taste is simply indescribable. As soon as he swallowed a piece of meat, he couldn't wait to eat another piece, one piece after another.However, he still tried his best to control himself, instead of swallowing all the meat and soup in one gulp, he chewed carefully, fully enjoying the incomparable deliciousness every day.It wasn't until he ate all the food on the plate that he realized that the two of them hadn't spoken a word during the meal.Costain brought this up, and LaFleur said, "Isn't it 'no sound is better than sound' when it comes to good food?" At this moment, Costan began to look at the old, dark restaurant and other diners eating in silence with another eye. "You're right," he said humbly. "It's all in the dark. I apologize for the impolite suspicion just now. Your praise of Spiro's restaurant is absolutely not exaggerated." "Oh." Laffle said happily, "This is just a part. Didn't I mention the signature dishes of this restaurant to you? It's a pity that we didn't have a good meal tonight. Compared with the signature dishes of this restaurant, tonight's dishes are simply delicious." Not worth mentioning." "No way?!" Costan exclaimed, "What kind of dish is that? Is it the tongue of a yellow warbler, or the meat of a unicorn?" "Neither. Our signature dish is lamb." "Lamb?" Lafleur lost his mind for a minute or two, then recovered and replied: "If I told you what I think about our signature dish, you would think I'm crazy. I can't help it when I think about it. It's not meaty ribs, Not a firm shank either; it's the meat of one of the smallest breeds of sheep in the world called the Emistein." Costan frowned: "Amystein the sheep?" "This kind of sheep is produced at the junction of Afghanistan and Russia. The number is very small and it is almost extinct. This is what Sibiro told me. I guess only the plateau can breed this small group of the last remaining top-quality sheep. Sibi Luo did not know what means he used to obtain the right to transport this batch of sheep, and Amystein mutton was on his menu. You can only eat this dish in this store, and I tell you, this dish is It is only served once in a long time, and it is only a matter of luck if you want to eat it." "Actually," Costan said, "Spiro can make a menu preview." "The reason for not giving notice is simple," said LaFleur. "The city is full of gluttons, and when word gets out—and it will—they'll flock into the store out of curiosity. Here, they will fall in love with this dish and replace these regular customers in the store now." "You don't mean..." Costain retorted, "that in the whole city—or even the world—only the few people sitting in the shop know about Spiro's?" "Basically. Only one or two regulars are not in the store now, don't know where they have gone." "incredible." "That's it," said LaFleur in a slightly threatening tone, "every regular customer carefully keeps this secret. And, starting from accepting my invitation tonight, you will automatically assume this duty of confidentiality. I hope you Can keep promises." Costan blushed. "I vouch for my position at your company. I just want to ask one question: what's the point of keeping this a secret from more people?" "You know what happens when you tell a secret?" LaFleur said angrily. "The restaurant is going to be full of goofy foodies complaining all night why there's no roast duck with Nutella. Can you live with that?" "No!" Costan immediately agreed, "I have to admit, you're right." Lafleur leaned back in the chair tiredly, rubbed his eyes, and said quietly: "I live alone, which is not my wish. You may sound strange and feel that I am abnormal, but deep down in my heart I do think so, this restaurant is like a warm sanctuary in this cold and dysfunctional world, my family and friends.” Costain had never seen his boss like this.At this time, he was no longer an overbearing boss, nor was he a meddlesome boss, but a poor man with countless miseries entangled in his broad and strong body. For the next two weeks, being invited by LaFleur to Spiro's became a regular ritual.Costan gets off work at 5 o'clock every day, and when the time comes, he walks out of his cubicle and locks the door.He would put his coat neatly on his left wrist, and adjust the top hat on his head to the best angle against the glass on the door.In the past, he would habitually light a cigarette after doing these things, but at the urging of LaFleur, he decided to give up this habit.Then he'd walk down the aisle and meet Lafleur somewhere. "Oh, Costan, I hope you have nothing else planned for tonight." "Nothing." Costain would say nonsense things like "I have absolutely nothing planned" or "I'm at your disposal."Sometimes he wondered if he should refuse once or twice, just to make the ritual less deliberate.But whenever he recalled the expression on Lafleur's whole face lit up when he heard his "available" answer, and the gesture of grabbing his arm full of affection, Costan gave up the idea of ​​rejecting him. After years of working in a workplace with hidden murderous intentions, Costan knows that it is best to keep a certain distance from his boss and not develop into a close friendship.Already a senior secretary has publicly accused Lafleur of being too partial to Costain.But that's not a bad thing. The most important thing is the food!Absolutely delicious at Spiro's!For the first time in his life, Costan, who was always skinny, was delighted to find that he was gaining weight.In less than two weeks, his protruding bones had been hidden under smooth, firm muscles, and he was gaining weight all over his body.In the shower one night, Costain stared at his own body and wondered—was that chubby Lafleur ever scrawny before he discovered Spiro's? In short, accepting LaFleur's invitation can be said to have nothing to lose.Perhaps after tasting the fabled Amistan sheep and seeing Spiro's true colors, Costain would be comfortable turning down Lafleur's invitation once or twice.but not now. Finally, two full weeks after the first visit to the Spiro restaurant, Costan fulfilled the above two wishes at the same time - ate the Amistan sheep and met Spiro.Both things were far beyond his imagination. Before the two of them sat still, the waiter approached the table and solemnly announced: "Sir, we have our signature dish tonight." Costan was so surprised that his heart was pounding, he saw Lafleur's hands on the table Shaking violently.This moment made Costan feel very unreal. Two grown men, with sound intelligence and strong self-control, were like two cats who couldn't wait for others to throw away their meat. "Finally!" Laffler's voice startled Costan, "Throughout the ages, the top delicacies on the tip of the tongue! Facing the delicacies, I guess you are confused and at a loss right now." "How do you know?" Costan asked feebly. "How do I know? Because ten years ago, my reaction was exactly the same as yours. Your emotional change suddenly awakened my memory of being willingly captured by this signature dish, so I can easily guess what you are thinking at this moment .” Costain asked in a low voice, "Are the other guests doing the same?" "You judge for yourself." Costan glanced furtively around the tables. "You're right," said he. "It's a consolation to me, at least, that everybody is like that." Laffler tilted his head slightly and looked at it. "There seems to be one exception." He paused and said, "He looks a little disappointed." Costan followed Laffler's gaze.A gray-haired man sat alone at the table, very conspicuous.Costan looked at the empty seat across from the man and frowned. "What's the matter? Oh," said Costain, "you're looking for that short, fat, bald man you used to sit across from him, aren't you? You haven't seen him for two weeks, only today." "It should be said that today is his first absence in ten years." Lafleur's voice was full of sympathy. He was absent. Imagine the expression on his face if he learned that on the only day he was absent, this restaurant served the signature dish—Amy Stein.” Costan turned again and looked at the empty chair, feeling vaguely uneasy. "The only missed day," he muttered. "Mr. Laffler! And this friend, you're welcome! I'm very, very happy. Oh no, you don't have to stand up; I'll just add a set of cutlery." As soon as the man's figure appeared at the table, someone The chair moved like magic. "Amy Stein is unbeatable, isn't it? I've been busy all day today in our 'miracle kitchen', supervising my grumpy chef. Every step of the way can't go wrong, every step counts , right? Oh, this friend doesn’t seem to know me yet, do you need to introduce me?” He spoke as crisply as pouring beans, and he made a pleasant guttural sound from time to time.Costan seemed to be hypnotized and could only stare at him blankly.The man's mouth opened and closed exaggeratedly, and every time he made a sound, his thin lips moved up and down, or left and right.A few sparse beards grew under his flat nose; his slender oriental eyes gleamed under the flickering kerosene lamp; Comb back to reveal a forehead without a trace of wrinkles.What an impressive face.Costan felt a little confused. He always felt that he had seen this face somewhere, but he couldn't find it in his memory after racking his brains for a long time. Laffler's voice brought Costan back to reality. "This is Mr. Spiro, and this is Mr. Costan, my friend and colleague." Costan stood up and shook Spiro's outstretched hand.Spiro's palm was warm and dry, firm as a stone. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Costain. I'm so happy." He said pleasantly in his throat. "You like my little shop, huh? You're always welcome, I can assure you." .” LaFleur giggled and said, "Costan has been eating here for the past two weeks. Spiro, he's going to be your admirer soon." Spiro turned his gaze to Costan. "It's my honor. How about you pay my respects by visiting our store, and I'll reward you with delicious food? I can guarantee that the taste of Amistan sheep is something you have never experienced before. We don't care about it No matter how much painstaking effort it takes, it is worth it.” Costan tried not to look at the angry face, and asked, "I find it strange that if it's such a hassle, why do you have to serve this dish? Other dishes are enough to make you famous." A wide-eyed smile appeared on Spiro's face, and his entire face was rounded. "Maybe it's psychological, huh? Once people find something surprising, they're bound to want to share it. My guests will exaggerate, show off, show off their contentment and pleasure, so that other people will pay attention to it. Maybe ..." He shrugged, "It's my way of doing business!" "So..." Costan asked, "Since you still have to set rules for your guests, why don't you just make it a membership-only club restaurant, why do you want to open a public restaurant?" Spiro's eyes flickered, he quickly glanced at Costan, then looked away, and said, "You are very sensitive, aren't you? Let me tell you, public restaurants are actually easier to protect privacy than members-only club restaurants! Here, there is no No one cares about your private life, and no one pries hungrily into your privacy. Guests come here to simply enjoy the food. We don't care about the guest's name, address, or reason for coming here. You are welcome "If you don't come, we have nothing to regret. This is my answer, how is it, are you satisfied?" The violent response frightened Costain into a fool. "I, I didn't want to inquire about any secrets." He stammered. Spiro licked his thin lips with the tip of his tongue. "No, no," he repeated, "I know you're not here to pry into any secrets, but I'd be happy to answer your questions." "Oh, Costan, take it easy," said LaFleur. "Don't be intimidated by Spiro's words. I've known him for a long time, and I assure you, he's a soft-spoken man. You can experience all the mysteries of this store. Of course, visiting the kitchen is another matter.” "Oh," Spiro said with a smile, "Mr. Costain will have to wait for a while to visit the kitchen. But other than that, please feel free to order anything." Laffler slammed the table. "What am I talking about!" he said. "Honestly, Spiro, has anyone ever set foot in that sanctuary besides your staff?" Spiro raised his head. "Look at that wall," he said earnestly, "that portrait is of the man who received that honor—a very dear friend of mine and one of our earliest customers—who can attest , my kitchen is not sacrosanct." Costan stared at the portrait, and suddenly cried out excitedly as if he had discovered something. "Oh! that famous writer! Mr. Lafleur, whom you know too. He used to write wonderful short stories and satirical essays. Then he suddenly emigrated to Mexico and was never heard from again." "That's right!" exclaimed LaFleur, "think about it, I've been eating under this portrait all these years and never realized it." He turned to Spiro and said, "You just said he A very close friend of yours, right? Then his disappearance must have hit you hard." Spiro became serious. "Yes, indeed. But try to think of it this way, gentlemen: perhaps death meant more to him than life, didn't he? Poor man. He used to say to me that at this table The time he spent was the only happy time in his life. It's pathetic, isn't it? And all I can do is show him my mysterious kitchen. Actually, you'll know if you've actually seen it, it's just an ordinary It’s just the back kitchen of a restaurant.” "You seem pretty sure he's dead," Costain asked, "but there's no evidence he's dead yet." Spiro also gazed at the portrait. "No clue at all." He said softly. "It's incredible, isn't it, huh?" The main course arrived.Spiro stood up and served them himself.His eyes glowed as he took the casserole off the tray.Instant fragrance overflowing, mouth-watering.Then, he carefully divided the two pieces of fragrant meat into two large shallow plates, for fear of wasting a little.After doing this, he sat back on the chair as if exhausted, panting heavily. "Gentlemen," he said, "I wish you a pleasant meal." For the first bite, Costan chewed and sipped it slowly for a while before swallowing it.Then he stared at the fork-tip in a daze. "My God!" he exhaled. "It tastes good, right? Is it better than expected?" Costan shook his head in a daze. "It's unbelievably good!" He said slowly, "The deliciousness of Amystein's mutton cannot be described in words, just like a mortal cannot peek into his own soul." "Maybe——" Spiro's face was very close, and Costan could feel the hot breath and the stench coming out of his mouth, "Perhaps you just glanced at your soul?" Costan flinched back without showing a trace. "Maybe!" he laughs. "I see a beautiful picture: full of fangs. No offense, but I don't want to associate mutton with faith." Spiro stood up and put a hand lightly on Costan's shoulder. "Wise man," he said, "whenever you have nothing to do and you're bored, just sit in a dark room for a while and think about the world—what it is and what it's going to be—and you You can't help but think about lambs and religion. That's very interesting. Now—" He bowed deeply to both of them, "I've been with you for a long time. Nice to meet you," he said, pointing at Costan Nodded, "We will definitely meet again." Spiro smiled, his teeth were shining, his eyes were shining, and he walked away along the aisle beside the table. Costan turned his upper body, looked at the leaving figure, and asked, "Did I accidentally offend him?" Lafleur looked up at him and said, "Offended? He enjoyed the conversation just now. Amystein is like a ritual to him; start this time, and he'll keep coming to you in the future." , babbling like a preaching priest." Costan continued to eat his main course, but Spiro's face was still there, lingering. "Interesting," he said, "it's interesting!" A month later, Costan finally remembered why that face was so familiar, and the thought made him lie in bed laughing.That's right, why didn't I think of it before!Spiro is Puss in Boots from Alice in Wonderland. On the evening of the third day, as he walked down the street to the restaurant in the bitterly cold wind, Costain told Lafleur the idea.Laffler finished listening with a blank expression. "Perhaps you're right," he said, "but I can't judge impartially. It's been a long, long time since I read that book. Too long, really long ago." As soon as Laffle finished speaking, he heard a shrill howl coming from the front.The two couldn't help but stop. "What's the matter," said LaFleur, "look!" Not far from the entrance of Spiro's restaurant, two figures wrestled in the dark.The two pushed back and forth, then suddenly lost their balance, fell to the ground, and rolled together onto the raised curb of the sidewalk, screaming endlessly.Lafleur twisted his fat body and ran towards that side at the fastest speed, followed by the confused Costan. The man lying on his back on the sidewalk was a slender man with dark skin and pale hair. He was the waiter in Spiro's restaurant.He tried to free the opponent's hands locked tightly around his throat, while kneeling feebly against the opponent's burly body - the weight of another fierce man was on top of him. Laffler panted and ran over. "Stop!" he yelled. "What happened?" The waiter's eyes were almost popping out of their sockets.He looked at Laffler helplessly, and said, "Sir... help... this man... is drunk—" "I'm drunk? You bastard—" It was only then that Costan managed to see clearly that the man who had the upper hand was a sailor, wearing a dirty sailor uniform and reeking of alcohol all over his body. "You stole my money and said I was drunk? Bastard!" He continued to pinch the waiter groaning in pain. LaFleur grabbed the crewman by the shoulder. "Let him go, do you hear?! Let him go now!" he yelled.However, as soon as Laffler's words fell, he fell towards Costan himself, Costan staggered back a few steps before barely standing still. It was attacked!Laffler was furious and immediately took a fierce counterattack.He threw himself on the sailor without a sound, scratching and kicking him in the face and flanks when he was unsuspecting.Seaman quickly rose to his feet and turned to counter Lafleur.The two of them hugged and wrestled for a while, and Costan joined the fight.The three fell to the ground together, wrestling and rolling around. 拉夫勒和科斯坦慢慢地站起来，俯视着趴在眼前的海员。 “也不知道他是酒醒了，”科斯坦说，“还是被咱们制伏了。无论如何，现在都该把他交给警察。” “不，先生，不行。”那名侍者摇摇晃晃地站起来，脚下仍然不稳，“不能叫警察，先生！斯比罗先生不喜欢警察。您应该能理解，先生。”他抓着科斯坦的手，哀求道。科斯坦望向拉夫勒。 “当然不叫，”拉夫勒说，“没必要给自己添麻烦。警察迟早会把他带走的，这个无法无天的醉鬼。不过，这到底是怎么回事儿？” “先生，那个人，他走路的样子很奇怪，我不小心碰了他一下，他就扑过来打我，还说我偷他东西。” “和我猜测的差不多。”拉夫勒贴心地扶着那名侍者往前走，“快回店里处理一下伤口吧。” 这位侍者被感动得好像要哭出来了似的。“先生，您是我的救命恩人。无论需要我为您做什么——” 拉夫勒拐进通往斯比罗餐馆的过道。“不不，不要放在心上。快走吧！如果斯比罗先生有什么疑问，你可以让他来问我，我会跟他解释清楚。” “救命恩人！”餐馆的门在他们俩身后关上，拉夫勒隐约听到这半句话。 “你也看到了，科斯坦，”坐下来数分钟后，拉夫勒说，“文明社会里也会有这种奇葩！全身都是臭酒味，别人稍微离他近点儿就大打出手，恨不得把一个无辜的陌生人打死。” 科斯坦试图忘掉刚才那紧张的一幕。“就算是小心谨慎的猫，在烦躁的时候也会想喝上几杯。”他说，“我看，那个船员的心里肯定也有说不出的委屈。” “委屈？哦，当然，他的委屈就是没法控制自己的野性。”拉夫勒抱着手臂，说道，“我们为什么会坐在这里等着吃肉呢？不仅是为了满足生理要求，也是为了满足溶于血液的本性。回忆一下，科斯坦，我说过斯比罗是文明的缩影，现在你明白我为什么这么说了吧？他是个聪明人，懂得人类的本性，但又与其他人不同，他费尽心思满足我们内心的渴望，却绝不会影响周围的旁观者。” “我回忆了一下美妙的艾米斯坦羊，”科斯坦说，“就明白你想说什么了。对了，是不是快到供应招牌菜的日子了？距离上次吃到它已经过去一个多月了！” 正为他们倒水的侍者犹豫了一下，说道：“抱歉，先生，今晚没有招牌菜。” “哦，你就是这么报答我的。”拉夫勒咕哝道，“看来我没有再吃那道菜的福气了。” 科斯坦望着他。“怎么会，这怎么可能。” “真的，见鬼。”拉夫勒一口气喝下半杯水，侍者马上又为他添满，他继续说，“我临时决定要去南美进行一次秘密考察。一两个月吧，老天知道到底要在那儿待多久。” “那里的情况很糟吗？” “没法更糟了。”拉夫勒突然笑了，继续说道，“我一定会怀念在斯比罗餐馆吃的每一道菜。” “我怎么没在公司里听说这件事呢？” “如果你听说了，就不能算秘密考察了。除了我以外没人知道，现在再加上你。我想给对方一个措手不及，看看他们到底在那边搞什么鬼。我会跟公司里的人说我去短途旅行了，或者去疗养院调养被工作压垮的身体。无论如何，公司的事就暂时交给你们了。特别是你。” “我？”科斯坦非常惊讶。 “明天你上班时会接到一份升迁令。非常抱歉，我无法亲手交给你。别多想，此事和我们的友情无关，你一向表现优秀，对于这一点我必须表示衷心的感谢。” 受到夸奖的科斯坦脸红了。“听你的口气似乎今晚就出发？” 拉夫勒点点头。“我费了点儿心思预定了机票。如果一切顺利，这顿饭将是我们的告别晚餐。” “事实上，”科斯坦缓缓地说，“我真希望你订不到座位。对我而言，在这里与你一起用餐意义非凡。这是我从未想过的。” 侍者的声音插了进来。“先生，可以上菜了吗？”两人都表示可以。 “当然，当然，”拉夫勒急忙说道，“我没注意到你还站在旁边。” 侍者离开后，拉夫勒转过头对科斯坦说：“唯一让我烦恼的是，没能吃到艾米斯坦羊。事实上，我已经把出发时间延后一周了，总想着能等来一个幸运之夜。如今真的不能再推迟了。我希望下次你坐在这儿享用艾米斯坦羊时，能或多或少替我感到一丝欣慰。” 科斯坦笑道：“一定！”然后低下头用餐。 差不多快吃完的时候，一位侍者不声不响地走了过来。不是平时招待他们的那位，而是刚才被海员暴揍的那个人。 “嗯，”科斯坦问，“你觉得怎么样？有没有不舒服？” 侍者完全忽视科斯坦，而是紧张地对拉夫勒说：“先生，”他的声音很小，“救命恩人！我欠您的，一定要报答！” 拉夫勒讶异地抬起头，然后坚定地摇了摇头。“不，”他说，“我不需要你为我做任何事，明白了吗？你的谢意已经足够报答我的所作所为了。现在回去工作吧，别再提这件事了。” 侍者纹丝不动，但声音提高了一些。“先生，我向您信仰的神发誓，即使您不需要我也要救您！先生，千万不要走进厨房。我是押上生命对您说这句话的。无论今晚还是以后任何一个晚上，都绝对不要进斯比罗餐馆的厨房。” 拉夫勒靠在椅背上，惊讶得目瞪口呆。“不要进厨房？倘若哪天斯比罗先生心血来潮，邀请我去厨房参观，我难道不能接受吗？这究竟是怎么回事儿？” 这时，一只有力的手搭在了科斯坦的椅背上，另一只则抓住侍者的手臂。侍者像被冻住了似的，僵在原地，嘴巴紧闭，目光低垂。 “什么怎么回事儿，先生们？”带着喉音的声音说，“我似乎来得正是时候。和往常一样，适时到来，回答你们的一切问题，对吗？” 拉夫勒松了一口气。“哦，斯比罗，感谢上帝你来了。这人正警告我说千万别进你的厨房，能解释一下这是什么意思吗？” 斯比罗咧开大嘴笑了，露出两排牙齿。“当然，这位可爱的朋友好心警告你，是因为我那个情绪化的大厨不知从哪儿听说我要带一位客人参观他那宝贝厨房，这可把他气疯了。他生起气来很可怕，先生们！他甚至扬言说要跑出来警告客人们。他要真的跑出来大喊大叫，会对斯比罗餐馆产生什么影响，两位先生肯定能理解，对吧？幸好我向他保证说，我一定会挑一位真正受人尊敬又懂得欣赏美食的先生，来现场观摩他的工作。现在他已经平静多了。明白了吗？” 斯比罗放开侍者的手臂。“你不是负责这张桌子的吧？”他平静地说，“下次可不能再犯这样的错误了。” 侍者仍旧低着头，迅速离开了。斯比罗搬来一把椅子，在他们旁边坐下，用手轻抚着头发。“看来我的小秘密泄露了。拉夫勒先生，我本来是想给你一个惊喜的，今晚邀请你参观厨房。现在惊喜没了，就让我好好招待你吧。” 拉夫勒擦了擦额头上的汗。“真的吗？”他的声音有些沙哑，“你的意思是，今晚我们将有幸参观店里的美食是如何烹饪的？” 斯比罗用尖锐的指甲在餐桌布上划了一道，在亚麻桌布上留下细细的痕迹。“哦，”他说，“您真给我出了个大难题。”他严肃地望着那道印痕说，“您，拉夫勒先生，照顾我的餐馆长达十年，但这位先生——” 科斯坦举起一只手，插嘴道：“我完全理解。这份邀请只针对拉夫勒先生，我在这里让您很难办。正好，我今晚还有其他安排，现在差不多该走了。你看，大难题解决了。” “不！”拉夫勒说，“绝对不行！这样太不公平了。科斯坦，我们一直共享美食之乐，如果没有你，我这段经历的乐趣也会减掉一半。斯比罗，情况特殊，就为今晚破一次例吧。” 两人同时望着斯比罗，他只是遗憾地耸耸肩。 科斯坦赶紧站起来。“拉夫勒先生，我不能继续留在这里，搅乱您来之不易的厨房之旅。而且，”他半开玩笑地说，“我可不想眼睁睁地看着那位正在气头上的大厨，举起砍肉刀扑向你。再见了。”为掩饰拉夫勒自责的沉默，科斯坦继续说，“我把你交给斯比罗先生了，相信他一定会为你呈现一幕精彩的表演。”他伸出手，拉夫勒紧紧地握住，力气大得甚至令科斯坦有些疼。 “你真是位绅士，科斯坦，”他说，“希望你能继续来这家餐馆吃饭，直到我们重逢的那一天。不会太久的。” 斯比罗站起来为科斯坦让路。“欢迎你再次光临。”他说，“再会！” 科斯坦在昏暗的门厅稍事停留，整理围巾和礼帽。当他从镜子前转过身时，心满意足的拉夫勒和斯比罗已经走到厨房门口了。斯比罗的一只手将厨房门使劲推开，另一只手则无限怜爱地搭在拉夫勒肉乎乎的肩膀上。

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