Chapter 3 third chapter

I spent the next morning in the gallery, half expecting a visit from the Count after he had expressed his interest the night before, but he did not come. I had lunch in my room as usual, and when I was almost done, the door rang and Genevieve came in. Her hair was neatly tied back, she looked as composed as she did at dinner last night, and I think her father was in the house and had a great influence on her. First of all, we climbed the steps of the polygonal tower to the highest point of the building. On the tower, she pointed out the surrounding fields to me, and she memorized the slow and painful English according to the earl's suggestion.I believe she craves his respect even though she hates him from time to time.

"Miss, can you see that tower to the south? My grandfather lived there." "Not too far?" "Nearly 12 kilometers, I can see it today because of the good weather." "Do you visit him often?" She was quiet, looked at me suspiciously, and I said, "It's not that far away." "I go sometimes," she said, "and if Daddy doesn't, please don't tell him." "He doesn't want you to go?" "He didn't say that," there was a vague bitterness in her voice. "He didn't say anything to me, you know. Promise me not to tell him."

"Why should I tell him?" "Because he talked to you." "My dear Genevieve, I've only met him twice, and naturally he talks to me about his paintings, he cares about them, he doesn't like to talk to me about anything else." "He doesn't talk to people a lot...the ones who come to work." "They probably didn't come to restore the painting." "I think he's interested in you, miss." "He cares about what I do with his artwork. Now, look at this vaulted ceiling, notice the shape of the arches, it helps you deduce that they're about a hundred years old." Actually I wanted to talk about her father, and ask him usually How to treat the people in this house; I wonder why he doesn't want her to visit her grandfather.

"You're talking too fast, miss, I can't keep up." We went down the stairs, and when we got to the bottom, she said in French, "Now you've been to the top, you must look down, do you know that there is a secret dungeon in the old castle, miss." "Yes, your father gave me a book written by your ancestors. It explains the meaning of the castle very well." "We used to keep prisoners here, madam. Anyone who offends Lord Tyratel is put in a dungeon, my mother told me. She brought me here once and showed me. She said you don't have to be locked up. Imprisonment is not in a dungeon, and stone walls and chains are one way of confining a prisoner, and there are other ways."

I looked at her sharply, but her eyes were big and innocent, and the shy expression was still on her face. "In the royal castle there are dungeons...they call them secret dungeons, because people are sent into and forgotten about. You know, madam, that the only entrance to these dungeons is a trap door, and it's not easy to see from above?" "Yes, I've read that the victim stood trusting on the trapdoor, which was opened by pressing a lever button at the other end of the room. The floor popped open and he fell through." "Fall in the secret dungeon. It's a long fall. I've seen dungeons. Maybe his leg is broken and there's no one there to help him. The bones of those who went before him are forgotten. Miss, you're afraid Ghost?"

"of course not." "Most of the servants are afraid they won't go into the upper room of the secret dungeon, at least not alone. They say there's noise in the dungeon at night...strange groans. Are you sure you want to see it?" "My dear Genevieve, I've been in some of the most haunted houses in England." "You'll be all right, then. Papa said it, didn't he? French ghosts are more polite than English ghosts, and only come in anticipation. If you weren't afraid of them, and didn't trust them, you wouldn't run into them, would you? It's him the meaning of."

She remembered his words so well!I then thought: What this child wants is not only discipline, she also needs affection.It has been three years since her mother died. With such a father, she must miss her affection. "Miss, are you sure you are not afraid of ghosts?" "Very sure." "It's not as good as it used to be," she said almost regretfully, "a long time ago when looking for emeralds, I cleared out many bones and horrible things. This is what my grandfather did. Of course, this is the first treasure hunt that you think of. , isn't it? They didn't find it, so it's not here. People say it was taken, but I think it's here. I wish Dad would do another treasure hunt, wouldn't that be fun?"

"I'm assuming a full search has been done, and from what I've read it's certain that it was stolen by a fortress." "But they didn't go into the vault, did they? So the emeralds didn't go out." "Maybe the emerald was sold before the Revolution, or maybe it wasn't in the castle many years ago. I'm just guessing, assuming your ancestor needed money to sell it, he or she probably wouldn't have told anyone, who can say? ’ She looked at me in amazement, then said triumphantly, ‘Did you tell my father this?’ "I'm sure he had the idea, it's an obvious way to explain it."

"But the woman in the picture you're working on wore them, and they must have been in the house then." "They may be knockoffs." "Miss, no Tyratel would wear imitation jewelry." I laughed, and let out a little squeal of joy when we reached a narrow, uneven staircase. "This leads underground, miss. There are eighty steps. I counted them. Can you go? Hold on to the railing rope." I did and followed her down, and the staircase twisted and narrowed, leaving only room for us to walk in one file. "Are you feeling the chill, miss?" There was excitement in her voice. "Oh, imagine you were taken down, and may never come back. We are now under the moat, where we used to hold offenders. .”

After passing through eighty steps, we faced a thick birch door with iron inlaid. The words were engraved on it, clearly and ironically: welcome sir and madam The Earl of Tyratel is waiting to teach! "Do you think that's a polite welcome, miss?" She smiled slyly at me, like another girl sneaking out from under her shy exterior. I tremble.She came up to me and whispered, "But it's over, ma'am, there's no more waiting here, we don't entertain people anymore. Come in, look at the hole in the wall, they call it a prison, look at these chairs, we put them Locked here, given some water and bread now and then, they won't live long. You see, even though it's dark now, there's no light when the door closes, no light, no air... next time we come we must bring candles ...preferably a lantern. The air is so thin, if I bring a light I can show you the writing on the wall, some are prayers to saints or the Virgin, some are engraved on how to take revenge on Terratel. "

"It's not safe down here," I said, looking at the mold growing on the wet wall. "As you say, without light we can hardly see anything." "The secret dungeons are on the other side of the wall. Come on, I'll take you there. The secret dungeons are more eerie than here, miss, because they are truly forgotten places." She smiled mysteriously, took the lead up the stairs, and pushed open a door. door, she announced: "This is the gun room now." I stepped in and saw all kinds of guns hanging on the wall.The vaulted ceiling is supported by stone columns, the floor is covered with stone slabs and covered with carpets.The stone window-sills here are the same as those in my bedroom, and the alcove is near a narrow window that lets in only a little light.Although I won't admit it to Genevieve, I have to admit to myself that this room is eerie.The place has not changed for hundreds of years, and I can imagine the unsuspecting victims entering the room, where there is a chair decorated with carvings resembling a throne.I wonder if such a piece of furniture remains in this kind of room. It is a large wooden chair with the family crest and weapons of the Terratel family engraved on the back of the chair.I pictured a man sitting on it—of course I pictured the present Earl—talking to the victim, and then suddenly opening the lever that controlled the trapdoor; Or in terrible silence he fell to join those who had gone before him, never to see the light of day again, into the land of oblivion. "Help me carry the chair, miss," said Genevieve, "the trap is down there." Together we pushed the throne chair aside, and Genevieve rolled up the rug, "Over there," she said, "I click here...and watch...see, it happened." After a creaking sound, a large square hole appeared on the floor. "It used to happen fast and silently. Look down, miss, you can't see anything, can you? But there's a rope ladder over there, in a cupboard. The valet goes down twice a year, I guess, for cleaning. Of course It's all right now, no bones, miss, no rotting corpses, just ghosts...and you don't believe in them." She took out the rope ladder, hung it on two hooks that were evidently fastened to the floor, and let the ladder drop. "Here, miss, do you want to come down with me?" She started to go down, looking up at me with a smile, "I know you are not afraid." She reaches the ground and I follow her.We were in a small room with only a little light through an open trap door, barely enough to see the poor inscription on the wall. "Look at those openings in the walls, they have a purpose, the prisoners think they can find their way out through it, it's a kind of maze of losing themselves. You know they think they can find their way through the passages to freedom, only to have them go back to Dungeon, it's called sophisticated abuse." "Interesting," I said, "I've never heard of it, it must be unique." "You want to see it, miss? I know you do, because you're not afraid, are you? You're bold, and you're not afraid of ghosts." I walked to the opening in the wall and took a few steps into the darkness.I felt the cold wall, and it took me a few seconds to realize that it led nowhere, that it was just an alcove dug out of the thick wall.I turned to hear a low snicker as Genevieve climbed up the stairs and the rope ladder was put away. "You like the past, madam," she said, "and that's what it is, then, that the Tyratells still destroy their victims in secret dungeons." "Genevieve!" I screamed. She laughed, "You're a liar," she retorted sharply, "but you may not know it, and now is the time to find out if you're afraid of ghosts." The trap door slammed shut, and at that moment darkness struck, and my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness.There were seconds before I was overwhelmed by the horror of incarceration. The girl had planned everything when her father suggested last night that she should show me around the castle.After a while, she will let me go.All I had to do was to be dignified and not admit even to myself that the pain was rising until I was free. "Genevieve!" I yelled, "open the trap door at once!" I know my voice cannot be heard, the walls are thick, and so are the planks above my head.In what corner of the secret dungeon can the cry of the victims be heard?That excellent description hints at the experience of imprisonment: forgetting! I was stupid enough to believe her; I saw her for what I was when I first saw her; but I allowed myself to be deceived by her outward meekness.What if she wasn't naughty?Suppose she is evil? With sudden shock, I asked myself what would happen if I disappeared?When was it found missing?Until dinner, when plates are delivered to the room or invited to family dinners.So... am I going to wait hours in this creepy place? Another thought came to mind, what if she ran into my room, hid things, and pretended I was gone?She might forge a note explaining that I'm leaving because I'm not happy with how I've been received here... because I don't want to do the job anymore. Is she capable of doing this?She could be... the daughter of a murderer! is this fairLittle do I know of the mystery surrounding the countess—all I know is that there is a secret.But this girl is weird; she's wild; I now believe she can do anything! In those first moments of agony, I knew something of what the sufferers must have felt when they found themselves in this dreadful place.But I can't compare myself to them, they fell and hurt their limbs; I at least came down a ladder.I was the victim of a joke, and they were retaliated against.It's completely different!I was quick to show no pain, and tried my best to maintain dignity. I sat on the floor against the cold stone wall, looking at the trap door above, and I tried to see the watch pinned to my blouse, but I couldn't, the time was ticking.A terrible catastrophe took place, and the air was so thin that I felt suffocated.And I knew that I, who had always prided myself on being calm, was almost in pain. Why should I come to the castle?Wouldn't it be so much better if I were looking for another respectable career.For example, as a tutor, I must be very qualified.Wouldn't it be better to go to Cousin Jane's?To nurse her, to serve her, to read to her, to hear her remind me a hundred times a day that I am a poor relation. I want a chance to live in peace, without passion, and I don't care about anything as long as I'm alive.I don't know how many times I've said I'd rather die than live like a slave--and I thought I meant it--and now I'd trade my independence, my life's interests...anything for the chance to live, I never Thought about this possibility until it happened.How much do I really know myself?Am I deceiving myself as well as others with the armor I wear on my face to face the world? I tried to think of anything that would take my mind out of here, it seemed to me that there was something left over from those who suffered that was tormenting my body and mind. "Do you believe in ghosts, miss." Not when I'm within easy reach of my own kind, bathed in troubled daylight; in a dark secret dungeon, teased, deserted... I don't know. "Genevieve!" I yelled, and the pain in my voice frightened me. I stood up, paced back and forth, and yelled over and over until my voice was hoarse.I sat down and tried to calm myself down, then paced back and forth.I found myself looking back in a panic, and started telling myself to be on the alert, I watched the exit in the wall, I knew it was fake, Genevieve said it was a labyrinth, a dark alcove, but I still hoped Hope...someone will show up. I was afraid I was going to start crying or screaming, so I tried to pull myself together and said aloud to myself that I would find my way out even though I knew there was no way out.I sat down again, covering my face with my hands, trying to cry out the depression in my heart. I started screaming in panic, a voice came, I couldn't help but put my hand over my mouth to suppress the scream, my eyes fixed on the dark opening. A voice: "Miss." Then the place lit up, and I cheered loudly, relieved.The trap door opened, and Rano looked down at me with a frightened face. "Miss, are you all right?" "Yes... yes." I immediately ran over and looked up at her. "I'll get the ladder," she said. It seemed like a long time before she came back, but she had a ladder.I grabbed it and staggered up, so eager to get there that I almost fell. Her terrified eyes studied my face: "That naughty girl! Oh dear, I have no idea what we're going to become, you look so pale...so restless." "Who wouldn't, locked up in that kind of place! I forgot to thank you for your help, I don't know how to tell you how much I..." "Come into my room, please? I can make you some good espresso, and I'd like to talk to you too, if you will." "It's kind of you, but Genevieve, where have you been?" "Naturally, you're angry. But I can explain." "Explain? Explain what? Did she tell you what she did?" The nurse shook her head. "Come into my room, it's easier to talk there. Please, I must talk to you. I hope you will understand. Besides, this is a terrible ordeal, and you are frightened. Who wouldn't?" She put her arms around me, "Come on, miss, it's best for you." Still dazed, I allowed myself to be taken out of that horrible room I was sure I would never want to be in again.She has a soothing power that comes from someone who has spent her whole life caring for the helpless, and my mood needs her gentle authority right now. I didn't pay attention where she was taking me, but I knew we were in a later addition when she opened a door to reveal a small, comfortable room. "Now you must lie down, on this sofa, it's more restful than sitting." "It's not necessary." "Forgive me, miss, it's very necessary. I'll get you some coffee." A fire was burning on her hob, and a kettle on a shelf was singing, "Good hot espresso, it'll make you feel Well, my poor lady, it frightens you." "How do you know what happened?" She turned to the fire and busied herself making coffee. "Genevieve came back alone, I can see from her face..." "You guessed it?" "It happened once upon a time, a governess, not at all like you... a pretty young lady... maybe a little rowdy, and Genevieve did the same thing to her, not long after her mother died... ... not too long." "So she kept her governess in a secret dungeon, as she did me, and how long was she there?" "Longer than you. You know, because she was the first one, I didn't find out until a while later. Poor young lady, she passed out with fright. She refused to stay in the old castle after that... that's all we know The last thing about her." "You mean this girl is used to it?" "Only twice. Please, miss, don't get yourself too excited. It's not good for you after what you've been through." "I want to see her, I have to let her know..." I understood that the reason I was so angry was because I had been on the verge of pain and felt ashamed, disappointed and surprised by myself.I used to be convinced that I could take care of myself, just as I remove the top layer of a painting and find that there is something underneath that I know for sure.And this is another discovery, I did something that I always blamed others - for being angry at myself, I took it out on others.Of course, what Genevieve has done is abhorrent - but right now, my own behavior is depressing me. Lano came and stood by the couch, clasped his hands, looking down at me. "It's not easy for her, Miss, for a girl like her, who lost her mother, and I've been doing the best I can." "She loves her mother very much?" "Lovely, poor child. It was a terrible blow to her. She never recovered. I'm sure you'll remember that." "She has no gauge," I said, "when we first met, she acted unbearably, and now this... I'm assuming that, if you didn't find out what she did, I might be in a state The unknown stay there." "No, she's just trying to scare you. Maybe it's because you seem to be able to take care of yourself and she, poor child, is so obviously not." "Tell me," I said, "why is she so weird?" She smiled with relief, "That's what I want to do, Miss, to tell you." "I wonder what made her behave like that?" "When you understand, miss, you'll forgive her. You won't tell her father what happened that afternoon? You won't tell anyone?" I'm not sure, and I blurt out, "Of course I want to talk to Genevieve." "But not to anyone else, I beg you. Her father must be very angry, and she is afraid he will be angry." "Wouldn't it be nice for her to understand how bad she's done? We shouldn't hide the truth and tell her it's okay because you came to save me." "No, you can talk to her if you want. But I want to talk to you first. There is something I want to tell you." She turned around and was busy on the table. "Related," she said slowly, "to her mother's death." I waited for her to continue, she wanted to talk more eagerly than I wanted to hear, but she didn't start until the coffee was ready, she put the brown kettle on the stove, and went back to the couch. "It was horrific ... what happened to an eleven-year-old girl who was the one who found her dead." "Yes," I agreed, "that's too bad!" "She's used to seeing her first thing in the morning and imagining a little girl walking in and finding out about that." I nodded, "But that was three years ago, and the worst part is that doesn't excuse her locking me up in that kind of place." "She has been different since then. She changed later. She likes all those naughty things. It's because she misses her mother and is afraid..." "Her father?" "So you get it. At the same time there were questions and doubts, it was so bad for her, the whole mansion believed he did it, he had his mistress..." "I understand, this marriage is not happy, did he love his wife when they first got married?" "Miss, he only loves himself." "Then, does she love him?" "You've seen how he scares Genevieve, and Francise is afraid of him." "Was she in love with him when they got married?" "You know how these sorts of families arrange marriages, but maybe it's not the same in England. In French noble families the parents usually arrange the marriages. Isn't that the case in England?" "To varying degrees, families tend to disapprove of their choices, but I don't think the rule is set in stone." She shrugged. "It's the same here, miss. Francise was betrothed to Loselle Terratel when they were nineteen years old." "Lossel..." I repeated. "Mr. Earl, this is the name of the family, miss, there has always been someone named Losell in this family." "It's a king's name," I said, "and that's why." She looked at me confused, and I said quickly, "I'm sorry, please go ahead." "The count has a mistress like a French man, no doubt he likes her more than his vow bride, but she is not fit to be his wife, so my Franks married him." "Are you her nanny too?" "I came when she was three years old and stayed with her until the end." "And now Genevieve has replaced your affection for her?" "I will always be with her, just like I was with her mother. When it happened, I couldn't believe it, why did it happen to my Franks? Why did she end her life? It's not like her." "Maybe she's not happy." "She doesn't wish for hopeless things." "Does she know his mistress?" "Mademoiselle, in France that kind of thing is acceptable, she's abandoned, she's afraid of him; I guess she's glad of those trips to Paris, when he's there . . . he's not at the Château." "It doesn't look like a happy marriage to me." "She accepts it." "And... she died." "She didn't kill herself." The old woman covered her eyes with her hands, as if whispering to herself: "No, she didn't kill herself." "But isn't that what the diagnosis is?" She turned to me, almost furiously, "What other diagnosis...besides murder?" "I heard it was an opium cream overdose, how did she get it?" "She had a toothache. I had opium cream in my little cupboard. I gave it to her. It relieved the toothache and put her to sleep." "Maybe she accidentally overdosed." "She didn't kill herself on purpose, I'm sure of that. But, that's what they said, they were going to...didn't they? For the count's sake?" "Rano," I said, "do you mean to tell me that the Count killed his wife?" She stared at me as if surprised. "You can't say I said it, miss. I said it wasn't. You said it yourself." "But if she didn't kill herself...someone must have." She turned to the table and poured out two cups of coffee. "Drink this, miss, and you'll feel better. You're overtired." I could tell her that although I had only had some unpleasant experiences, I wasn't as tired as she was.But I wanted to collect as much data from her as possible, and I knew I'd prefer to start with her. She offered the glass, then pulled a chair over to the sofa and sat next to me. "Miss, I want you to understand how cruel what happened to my little Genevieve, and I want you to forgive her...help her." "Help her? Me?" "Yes, you can. If you can forgive her, if you don't tell her father." "She's afraid of him, I can see that." Lano nodded, "He noticed you at dinner, she told me. A different way than she noticed those pretty governesses. Believe me, it had something to do with her mother's death somehow, it made her think about that, you know , some gossip, and she knew there was another woman at the time." "Does she hate her father?" "This is a strange relationship, miss. He is very indifferent, sometimes ignoring her existence, and sometimes he seems to take pleasure in mocking her. Some seem to hate her, and some seem to be disappointed in her. If he can show her a little affection... ..." She shrugged, "He is a strange and difficult man, miss, and because of the rumors, he is even more so." "Maybe he doesn't know what others say about him, who dares to tell him those rumors?" "No one, but he knows, and he changed when she died. He's not a monk, miss, but he despises women. Sometimes I think he's the most unhappy man." Perhaps, I thought, it was not tasteful to discuss the head of the household with a servant, but my insatiable curiosity could not quell my desire.Here's another discovery I made about myself that I refuse to listen to my conscience. "I wonder why he doesn't marry anymore," I said. "No doubt a man of his stature wants a son." "I don't think he's going to remarry, madam, for that's why he called Mr Philips." "Mr. Philips summoned?" "Not so long ago. I dare say Mr. Philip would be expected to marry and his son would have everything." "I found that hard to understand." "It's hard to understand the count, madam. I've heard he's very happy in Paris, but here he's much more lonely and melancholy, as if he can only be happy by making other people uncomfortable." "What a charming man." I said disdainfully. "Oh, life in the old castle is hard, and the most difficult ones were given to Genevieve." She put her hand on mine, it was cold, and at that moment I knew how much she loved the children she took care of, and how much she cared for her Worry. "She's not wrong," she insisted. "Her anger . "Don't worry," I said, "I won't tell her father or anyone what happened, but I think I should talk to her." Lano's face brightened, "Yes, you talk to her... and if you talk to Mr. Earl... you can tell him... how clever she is in speaking English... how gentle she is... how quiet... ..." "Her English will improve quickly, I'm sure. But it's hard for me to say she's quiet." "Because people said her mother took her own life, people used to say that she was too sensitive." I thought of course she was, but she didn't say it, which was very strange.Lano brought me here to appease me, and now I'm reciprocating to appease her. "Francoise is the most natural, normal little girl you'll ever meet." She put down her glass, walked across the room, and brought back a wooden box inlaid with oysters. "I keep some of her things here and I look at them from time to time to remind myself what a wonderful child she is, her governesses love her and I always tell Genevieve how wonderful she is." She opened the box and took out a book bound in a red cover. "She presses flowers here, she loves flowers, she walks across the fields collecting them, she picks some from the garden too. Here, look at this forget-me-not. Look at this handkerchief, she made it for me, what a beautiful embroidery. She Embroidered for me at Christmas, holidays and when I approached she would hide and keep it a secret. Such a quiet girl, a girl like this wouldn't take her own life. She was nice and had a lot of faith Devotional, she has a way of saying prayers that will make your heart ache. She used to decorate the churches here herself. She would consider it a sin to take her own life." "Does she have siblings?" "No, she's an only child. Her mother...wasn't strong, and I took care of her. She died when Franks was nine, and Franks got married when she was eighteen." "And she was happily married?" "I don't think she knew what marriage was all about. I remember the night of the engagement party. Do you understand, Miss? Maybe not in England? But in France when two people are getting married, it's about talking about the engagement and agreeing to it, and there's something about that when it's going on." Engagement dinner...at the bride's dinner, where she dined with her family, the groom, and some of his family, and then signed the engagement. I thought, she was happy then, and she would be the Countess of Teratell, and The Tyrateres were again the most important and richest family for miles around. It was a good marriage, an achievement. Then came the civil marriage, and then the church wedding." "She wasn't very happy after that?" "Oh, life can't go on like a little girl's dream, miss." "Especially marrying Earl Terratel." "As you say, madam." She held the box to me, "but you see what a sweet girl she is, and her joys are simple. It would be a shock to her to marry a man like the Earl. .” "That scare is something a lot of young girls deal with." "You speak the truth, miss. She used to write things in her little books, that's what she called them. She liked to keep a record of what happened, and I kept those little books." She went to the cupboard, and from She opened it with one of the keys she wore around her belt, and produced a small notebook. "This is the first book, look how good this calligraphy is!" I open the book and read: "May 1st, praying with Dad and the servants, I recited prayers to him, and he said I was improving. I went to the kitchen to watch Marie bake, and she gave me a honey cake and told me not to say it because she Honey cake shouldn't be baked." "A kind of diary," I commented. "She is so young, not seven years old. How many seven-year-olds can write so well? Let me give you more coffee, miss. Look at this book. I read it often. It brings her back to me." I turned the pages and looked at the big, childish calligraphy. "I think I'm going to make a tablecloth for Lano, it's going to take a lot of time, and if it's not done in time for her birthday, she can get it for Christmas." "Dad talked to me after praying today. He said I must be good and try to forget myself." "I saw my mum today and she didn't know who I was, and then my dad told me she might not be with us for too long." "I got blue satin for the tablecloth, and I'm going to find some pink too. Rano almost saw it today, and that was exciting." "Yesterday I heard my dad praying in his room. He asked me to come in and pray with him. Kneeling made my knee hurt. Dad was so focused that he didn't notice." "Dad said on my next birthday he was going to show off his biggest treasure and I'm going to be eight and I'm guessing what it is." "I hope to have other children to play with me. Marui said that the family she worked for had nine children. There are nine brothers and sisters in total. There will be one person who is the best with me." "Marie baked my birthday cake, and I went to the kitchen to watch her make it." "I thought Daddy's treasure was a pearl or a ruby, but it was an old robe with a hood that smelled musty because it had been there, and it was black, and Daddy told me not to judge by appearances." Lano stood looking at me. "It's sad," I said. "She's the only child." "But, well behaved, you can tell. It's innate, she's got a good temper, she passes the test, doesn't she? She accepts things as they are...you know what I mean?" "Yes, I think I know." "It's not like, you know, taking your own life. She's not hysterical, and neither is Genevieve... in the heart." I quietly, sipping the coffee she gave me, I was attracted by her because she was so affectionate to the mother and daughter.I sensed that she was trying to win me over with her point of view. In this case, I have to confess to her. "I thought I had to tell you," I said, "the first day I got here, Genevieve took me to see her mother's grave." "She used to go there," Rano said quickly, eyes gleam with fear. "She did it in a special way, she said she was going to take me to her mother ... and I thought I was going to be taken to a real woman." Lano nodded, eyes averted. "Then she said her father murdered her mother." Rano's face crumpled with fear. She put her hand on my arm, "But you get it, don't you? It's natural to be frightened...to find one's own mother and gossip, isn't it?" "I don't think it's natural for a child to accuse her father of murdering her mother." "The scare..." she repeated, "she needs help, miss, think of the mansion, death... whispers in the castle... gossip outside, I know you're a sensible woman, I know you want to do your best for." 双手抓住我的手臂，双唇微动好似有些夸张的话不敢说出口。 她是个害怕的女人，因为我才经历过她照管下孩子的手段，她求我帮忙。 我小心的说：“它当然是个大惊吓，她一定得小心照顾，她父亲好像不明白这一点。” 拉诺的脸被痛苦的线条扭曲着，她恨他，我想。她恨他对他女儿所做的一切……还有对他妻子做的事。 “但是我们知道。”拉诺说，我受到感动，伸出双手压按她的手。 好像我们有了协定似的，她眼睛发亮并说：“我们让咖啡放冷了，我再煮些。” 而在那间小屋子里，我知道我迷上古堡的生活。