Chapter 15 Chapter fifteen

The next morning Maxim called and said he would be back at the manor around seven in the evening.It was a message delivered by Frith. Maxim didn't ask me to answer the phone.I heard the phone ring at breakfast and thought Frith might come into the dining room and say, "Mr. de Winter is waiting for you, ma'am." At this moment Frith came to the restaurant to bring me the message. He saw me push away my chair and head for the door, and he said hastily, "Ma'am, Mr. de Winter has hung up the phone. Didn't say anything else, just said to be back around seven o'clock. "

I sat down again in the chair and picked up the napkin.Seeing how eager I was to rush out of the restaurant, Frith must have thought I was a fool. "Got it, Frith. Thank you," I said. I continue to eat my ham and eggs.Jasper was at my feet, and the blind old dog was in a crate in the corner.I really don't know how to spend this day.I didn't sleep well last night, maybe because I live alone without a partner.I slept very restlessly, and I kept waking up to look at the clock. The hands didn't seem to move much.Even if he fell asleep, it would still be a messy dream. I dreamed the two of us, Michael Humm and I, walking through the woods; he was always ahead of me, just a few steps, and I just couldn't keep up.I couldn't see his face clearly either, but he kept strutting in front of me.I must have cried when I fell asleep because I woke up to a soggy pillow in the morning.When I looked in the mirror, I saw that my eyelids were swollen, my eyes were glazed over, and I was really unattractive and without charm.I put some powder on my cheeks, trying to add some rosiness, but it was self-defeating, and I looked like a nondescript circus clown.Maybe I didn't get the knack for applying paint.As I walked across the hall into the house for breakfast, I noticed Robert's eyes staring blankly at me.

About ten o'clock, I was crumbling some slices of bread to feed the birds on the terrace, when the phone rang again.This time it was me.Frith came to report.Mrs. Lacey asked me to answer the phone. "Good morning, Beatrice," I said. "Oh dear, how are you?" Even on the phone, she had a way of speaking: crisp, manly, with no room for babble.At this time, she didn't wait for my answer and said, "I want to drive to see grandma in the afternoon. Now I'm going to go to a friend's house for lunch. It's about twenty miles from your place. Will you let me come then?" Pick you up, let's go together? According to me, it's time for you to meet that old lady."

"I'd love to go, Beatrice," I said. "Excellent. That's it. I'll pick you up about three-thirty. Giles saw Maxim at the party. He said the food was tasteless and the wine was excellent.Well, that's it, honey, see you later. " With a tick, she hung up the phone.I wandered into the garden again.I'm so glad she called and asked me to meet my grandmother.In this way, I can finally count on something to add some interest to this boring day.It's going to be seven o'clock in the evening, and it's really hard to survive these few hours.Today I have no sense of holiday relaxation, and I have no intention of going to Happy Valley with Jesper, walking in the small bay, and throwing stones in the water for fun.The unfettered ease, the innocent desire to put on his espadrilles and sprint across the lawn, was gone.I went into the Rose Garden with my books, The Times.

There is also knitting work, sit there, the body is still a housewife guarding the family and living a peaceful life.I sat in the warm sunshine, yawning, as bees buzzed among the surrounding flowers. Unable to concentrate, I read the dry newspaper columns and then picked up the novel, trying to absorb myself with its twists and turns.I don't want to think about yesterday afternoon, or Mrs. Danvers.I tried to dispel the thought that she was in the house at this moment, maybe hiding behind some upstairs window, watching my every move.From time to time I raised my head and glanced across the garden, always feeling that I was not alone here.

Manderley has rows of windows.Empty rooms abound, which Maxim and I never use, and are covered with dust-proof sheets and silent; in the old days when his father's grandfather was alive, the house was full of guests and servants. , Those rooms are all occupied.Mrs. Danvers could now, without much trouble, open doors one after another, close them again, and tiptoe into the dusty room, to the window, and peep at me from behind the drawn curtains. action. I couldn't find out, I couldn't see her even when I turned sideways in my chair and looked up at the row of windows, and I recall a game I played as a child that the kids in the next room called "" Grandma Walks," and I call it "The Old Witch."To play, you have to stand at the end of the garden with your back to other people.One by one, they approach you quietly, sneaking around for a while and stopping for a while.Every few minutes, you look back, and if anyone happens to be walking around, that person will be fined to go back to the original place and start from the beginning.But there is always a little friend who is more courageous, and he is already close to you, and his actions are almost impossible to detect; so, when you are standing with your back to everyone and counting from one to ten, you He was worried, but he also knew that he was bound to lose. After a while, before he even finished counting ten, the bold guy would rush up from behind without anyone noticing, and at the same time let out a cheer of victory.Now I am all in the same mood as I was then, nervously waiting for someone to jump on me.I was playing "Old Witch" with Mrs. Danvers.

Finally, it was lunch time, and the long morning finally came to an end.Watching Frith move in an orderly and swift manner, and Robert's silly look, is a better way to pass the time than reading books and newspapers.At half-past three, on the exact second, Beatrice's motor screeched from the corner of the driveway, and in a second it was parked by the front steps of the house.I've got dressed and got my gloves, and now I'm going out to greet you in three steps at a time. "Hey honey, here I come, rare weather, isn't it?" She slammed the car door and came up the steps to meet me.She kissed me quickly, brushing her lips hard on the cheek next to my ear.

"You don't look very well," she blurted out, looking me up and down. "The face is thin and thin, and there is no blood at all. What happened?" "It's nothing," I knew that my expression was not right, so I could only falter in a low voice. "I've never been bloody." "Oh, bullshit," she retorted. "It wasn't like that the last time I saw you." "I think the brown face from the sun in Italy has faded away." Saying that, I hurried into the car. "Well," she said to me mercilessly, "you have the same problem as Maxim, that you don't want to admit that you're sick. Well, try harder, or the door won't close." We drove down the driveway Go, the car drove very hard, and made a sudden turn at the corner. "I said, don't you think you're happy?" She turned her face sideways as she said, her sharp brown eyes fixed on me.

"Nothing," I said in great embarrassment, "I don't think so." "Do you feel nauseous in the morning? Do you have any other similar symptoms?" "No." "Oh, uh--of course it wasn't all that way. Take Roger when I was born. Nothing happened. Nine months, as hard as a cow. The day before I was in bed. Golf. You know, having kids is a given, and there's nothing to be ashamed of. If you have any doubts, just say so." "No, really, Beatrice," I said. "There's nothing to hide from you." "To tell you the truth, I really hope that you will have a son soon to pass on Maxim's family. This will be a great thing for him. I hope you don't put too much defense on this matter."

"Of course not," I said.What a wonderful conversation. "Oh, don't be surprised," she said. "Don't pay attention to what I say. After all, today's brides have to know a little bit about everything. If you want to go hunting, but you get pregnant during the first hunting period, wouldn't it be a disaster? If the couple They are all hunting fans. This is not a trivial matter, and it may ruin this marriage. It doesn’t matter if you are like you, dolls will not hinder drawing and painting. Oh, by the way, has life painting improved recently?” "It seems to be hard to write these days," I said.

"Oh, really? The weather is so nice, it's suitable for sketching and painting outdoors, all you need is a folding stool and a set of paintbrushes, isn't it? Tell me, are you interested in the books sent last time?" "That's still time," I said. "A lovely present, Beatrice." She said with a smile on her face, "As long as you like it." The car sped forward.Her foot was always on the gas pedal, and she always took a sharp, small angle when turning.We passed other cars, and two drivers leaned out of the window to watch us, their faces full of indignation.A pedestrian in the alley waved a hand stick at her.I blushed for her.But she seemed to ignore everything.I had to curl up in the car seat. "Roger is going to Oxford next term," she said. "God knows what he's up there with. It's a waste of time, I suppose. Why doesn't Giles think so? But we can't think of anything else to do but let him go. Of course, the little guy is still like Daddy after all." Mom, all my mind is on the horses. What the hell is that car up front? Hey, I mean, don't you hold out your hand to say hello? Seriously, there are some driving guys on the roads these days, they should be It was shot." The car swerved sharply onto the main road, narrowly missing the car in front of it. "Anyone visiting your place?" she asked me. "No, it's been quiet lately," I said. "It's as good as it is," she said. "I've always found those big parties really boring. If you came to stay with us for a while, you wouldn't be intimidated. The neighbors are good people, and you get to know each other very well. Either eat here, or Go to that house for dinner, and often play bridge together, and don’t talk to outsiders much. You can play bridge, right?” "Not very well, Beatrice." "Oh, it doesn't matter if you're smart or not, as long as you know how to fight. I can't stand those guys who don't want to learn anything. I don't know how to deal with them after dinner on a winter evening! One can't just sit and talk all the time." I don't see why this can't be the case.However, it is better to keep silent. "Life is fun now that Roger is older," she went on. "He brought his friends over and we played and laughed and had a lot of fun! It would have been nice if you had Christmas with us last year. We played charades. Ouch, that was a lot of fun. Jarl Stu is a duck to water and shows his skills. You know, his favorite thing is to do costume shows. After a glass or two of champagne, you'll be entertained by his antics.We often regret that he can't do his best, he should be an actor. “I think about Giles, and I see his big round face and those horn-rimmed glasses. If I actually saw him in a drunken state, I would be embarrassed.” We have a A good friend, Dickie Marsh, and Giles in disguise had a duet, and no one could figure out what it had to do with the charade answer, but it didn't matter, anyway, they were both Made us laugh out loud. " I smiled politely. "As you can imagine, it must be very interesting," I said. I seemed to actually see them laughing and laughing in Beatrice's drawing room.These friends are familiar and intimate.Roger supposedly looked like Giles.Beatrice still recalled the scene with joy. "Poor Giles," she said. "I'll never forget the look on his face when Dickie picked up the soda bottle and squirted it on his neck. We all had fun like crazy." I'm a little worried that Beatrice will invite us to her house for Christmas this year.Maybe then I can excuse myself and say I have the flu. "Of course, we sing and perform, and we never try to come up with something that will surprise everyone," she said. "It's just a play on the occasion, to make fun among our own people. Mandali is the place to put on a wonderful show in this season. I remember there was an open-air costume show there a few years ago.Artists from London were invited to perform.Of course, you can be too busy preparing such things. " "Oh," I said. She was silent for a while, and just focused on driving. "How's Maxim?" she asked after a while. "Very well, thank you," I said. "In a good mood?" "Oh, yes. It's nice." The car came to a small country street, and she had to concentrate on driving.I don't know if I should tell her about Mrs. Danvers, and that fellow Favell.But I'm afraid she'll let it out and maybe tell Maxim. "Beatrice," I said anyway, "have you ever heard of a man named Favere? Jack Favere?" "Jack Favre," she repeated. "Yes, the name is familiar. Let me think about it, Jack Favre. Yes, it's him, a swinger. I saw him once a few years ago." "He came to see Mrs. Danvers at Mandorain yesterday," I said. "Really? Oh, well, maybe he used to..." "Why?" I asked. "I think he's Rebecca's cousin," she told me. I was very surprised.That guy is her relative?It seemed to me that Rebecca's cousin was not like that at all.Jack Favre, her cousin! "Oh," I said. "Oh, that didn't occur to me." "It is probable that he was a regular at Manderley in the past," Beatrice said. "I don't know either. I can't really tell. I rarely go there." Her demeanor became rather cold, and it seemed to me that she had no intention of continuing the subject. "I don't like this guy very much," I said. "Yes," said Beatrice. "No wonder you don't like it." I listened attentively, but there was nothing to say, and I thought it best not to mention the fact that Fevre asked me to keep it a secret for him. The mention of it could have made things worse, and besides, we were close to our destination, with two white-painted gates and a flat gravel driveway in front of us. "Don't forget, the old lady is nearly blind," said Beatrice. "People are a little confused these days. I called the nurse and said we're coming, so there's no problem." This is a tall herringbone-shaped red brick building, probably a late-Victorian building, with an unattractive appearance, but at a glance, you can tell that there are groups of servants in this house, and the housework is handled by shrewd and capable people.And all of this is for an old lady who is almost blind. The one who opened the door was a well-shaped living room maid. "Hello, Nora, how are you?" Beatrice said. "Very well, thank you, madam, I hope your family is well." "Oh, yes, we're all right. How's the old lady doing, Nora?" "It's hard to say whether it's good or bad, ma'am. It's clear for a while, and the lake is muddy for a while. Her body is not too fine, as you know. I bet she'd be delighted to see you," she cast a curious glance at me. "This is Lady Maxim," said Beatrice. "Oh, hello, ma'am," said Nora. We walked through the narrow hallway past the furnished living room to the balcony.In front of the balcony is a square lawn that has been manicured.There are several fresh geraniums in several jade vases on the balcony steps.In the corner of the balcony was an easy chair on wheels, and Beatrice's grandmother was sitting in it, wrapped in a shawl and with some pillows behind her. On closer inspection, I saw that she had an uncanny resemblance to Maxim.This is what Maxim would have looked like if he had been old and blind.The nurse sitting in the chair next to her got up and put a bookmark in the book she had just read aloud.She smiled at Beatrice. "Mrs. Lacey, hello!" she said. Beatrice shook her hand and introduced me to her. "It seems that the old lady is quite tough," she said. "It's rare to be in such good health at the age of eighty-six. Grandma, here we come," she raised her voice. "An Ran has arrived." Grandmother looked our way. "My dear Bee," she said, "you're a fine girl, and you've come to see me, an old lady. We've got a very dull place here, and there's nothing to amuse you." Beatrice leaned forward and kissed her. "I've brought Maxim's wife to you," she said. "She has long wanted to see you, but she and Maxim have been busy." Beatrice poked me in the back. "Go and kiss her," she said softly.So I leaned over and kissed the old lady on the cheek. The old grandmother put her finger on my face and said, "Good girl, thank you for coming to see me. I'm glad to see you, dear. You should bring Maxim too." "Maxim's gone to London," I said. "I won't be back until evening." "Be sure to bring him with you next time," she said. "Sit down, my dear, just sit in this chair, and let me have a good look at you. Bee, come over here, too, and sit on this side. How is dear Roger? That little rascal doesn't want to see my old woman either. " "He'll be here in August," cried Beatrice. "You know he's leaving Eton to go to Oxford," "Oh, my God, he's going to be a grown man soon, and I won't know him." "He's already taller than Giles," said Beatrice. She rattled on about Giles and Roger, and about her horses and dogs.The nurse took out the wool to knit, and the knitting needles in her hands clicked and clicked.She turned around with a smile on her face, talking to me with great interest. "Do you like Manderley, Mrs. de Winter?" "Love it. Thank you," I said. "That's a pretty place, isn't it?" she said, alternately going up and down with the needles. "Of course we can't go now, she can't. What a pity! I miss the time we used to have at Manderley." "You've got to find some time to play," I said. "Thank you. I should like to go. How is Mr. de Winter?" "Yes, good." "You're honeymooning in Italy, aren't you? We're delighted to have an art postcard from Mr. de Winter." I wondered if she used the word "we" to mean that she was the head of the family, or that she and Maxim's grandmother had become one. "Did he send one? Why don't I remember?" "Oh, I did. It was such a joy. We love that kind of stuff. We keep a scrapbook, to tell you the truth, of everything that has anything to do with the family. Of course. It's a joy to look at." "How interesting," I said. Every now and then a word or two of what Beatrice said over there came to my ears. "We had to leave Papa Maxman behind," she said. "Do you remember Maxman's father? He is the best hunter I have." "Oh, my God, it's not Papa Maxman?" Grandma said. "It's him, poor old man. Blind in both eyes." "Poor Maxmann," replied the old lady. I muttered to myself, it would be inappropriate to mention blindness in front of the old lady, so I couldn't help but glance at the nurse.She just rattled and knit. "Are you hunting, Mrs. de Winter?" she asked. "To tell you the truth, I don't hunt," I said. "Maybe one day you'll love it. There's no one around here who doesn't love hunting." "Oh." "Mrs. de Winter is very fond of art," Beatrice said to the nurse. "I told her that Manderley is a lovely place, and there are many beautiful things that can be pictured." "Oh, that's right," the nurse agreed, pausing her anxious fingers for a moment. "It's a noble hobby. I have a friend who is a wonderful painter. We went to Provence one Easter and she made beautiful sketches." "How interesting," I said. "We're talking about sketches," Beatrice said aloud to her grandmother. "You don't know, we have an artist in our family!" "Who is the artist?" asked the old lady. "I don't know any artists." "You new grand-daughter-in-law," said Beatrice. "Ask her what kind of wedding present I gave her." I smiled and waited for the old lady's hair.She turned her head towards me. "What's Miss Bi talking about?" she said. "I didn't know you were an artist. No one in our family ever did art." "Beatrice was telling a joke," I said. "I can't be called an artist, but I like to paint a few times for fun. I have no special training. Beatrice sent me some books, which are very beautiful." "Oh," she was confused. "How many books has Beatrice sent you? It's kind of like sending coal to Newcastle, don't you think? Isn't Manderley's library short?" She laughed.We were also amused by her jokes. I wished this was the end of the subject, but Beatrice went on and on. "You don't understand, Grandma," she said. "Those are not ordinary books. They are about art. There are six big books." ①British proverb, meaning superfluous. The nurses also came over to show their hospitality. "Mrs. Lacey is saying that Mrs. de Winter has a hobby, which is that she likes to draw very much. So she gave six great books, all about painting, as a wedding present. " "It's ridiculous how it's done," said the grandmother. "How can I get a book as a wedding present? No one gave me a book when I got married. If someone did, I would never have the heart to read it." She laughed again.Beatrice looked sullen.I smiled at her in sympathy.She probably didn't notice. The nurse knitting again. "I want tea," said the old lady gruffly. "Isn't it four-thirty yet? Why hasn't Nora brought the tea?" "What? After eating so much at noon, are you hungry again?" The nurse stood up and smiled cheerfully at the patient she was taking care of. I was so overwhelmed that I didn't understand how difficult it is for older people to cope sometimes.They are more difficult to deal with than ignorant children or self-righteous young people, because you have to be polite and hypocritical.I could not help being astonished at the thought of such indifference.I sat upright with my hands in my arms, ready to talk to others at any time.The nurse patted the pillow a few times and wrapped the shawl tightly around her. For such an ordeal, Maxim's grandmother could bear it.She closed her eyes and seemed tired too. It looked more like Maxim now.I can imagine what she looked like in Manderley when she was young: tall and tall, with delicate features, candy in her pocket, and the hem of her skirt in her hand, fearing that her skirt would get muddy, she walked around the house towards the stables.I picture her corseted and high-necked in my mind; I hear her ordering the carriage to be ready for her at two o'clock in the afternoon.Now.All this has turned into a passing cloud for her, gone forever.Forty years have passed since her husband passed away, and fifteen years have passed since her son passed away.Now the old man has to live in this herringbone-shaped red brick building, under the care of nurses, to spend his days.It seems to me that we know almost nothing about the changing emotions of old people.We know children well, their fears and hopes.Knowing their tricks of deceit, I was a kid myself not so long ago, and I remember it all vividly.And what was Maxim's grandmother feeling now, sitting there wrapped in her shawl, with those poor eyes that couldn't see?What is going on in your mind?Did she know that Beatrice was yawning and looking at her watch?Did she think that the reason we came to visit her was simply because we felt we should do so, to show our filial piety? —so that when Beatrice came home she could say, "Well, I'll have three months of conscience." Does she still miss Manderley?Remember sitting at the dining table and eating?Now, her old seat has belonged to me. Had she, too, used tea under the chestnut tree?Maybe these things have long been forgotten.Forgot all about it?Could it be that behind her peaceful and pale face, except for slight pain and inexplicable discomfort, there was no ripple of emotion left behind, only a faint sense of relief and gratitude appeared when the sun was warming, and in Shivering when the cold sets in? I wish I had the magic power to rejuvenate and erase the marks of time on her face.I wish I could see her back to her youthful figure, rosy-cheeked, with chestnut curls, as alert and healthy as Beatrice next to her, and talking of hunting with as much interest as Beatrice, Talking about hounds and horses, instead of sitting like she was now, just closing her eyes and letting the nurse pat the pillow behind her head. "You know, we got a lot of good food today," said the nurse. "Cress sandwich tea. We like cress best, don't we?" "Cress turn today?" said Maxim's grandmother, lifting her head from the pillow and looking towards the door. "You didn't tell me that. Why hasn't Nora brought the tea?" "Even if you gave me a thousand pounds a day, madam, I wouldn't do your job," Beatrice murmured to the nurse in a low voice. "Oh, I'm used to it, Mrs. Lacey," the nurse laughed. "It's very comfortable here, you know. Of course, it's not easy in our line of work, but some patients are more difficult to deal with. Compared with them, she is quite easy-going. The servants are also willing to cooperate." Well, really, that's all that matters. Look, here comes Nora." The parlor maid brought a folding table and a snow-white tablecloth. "Nora, why have you dawdled for so long?" the old lady complained. "It was only half-past four, ma'am," Nora said to her in a peculiar tone, with the same cheerful smile as the nurse's.I don't know if Maxim's grandmother was aware that everyone was talking to her in that tone. I don't know when this started and if she noticed it in the first place.Maybe she said to herself at that time: "How ridiculous, they think I'm old." Later, she gradually got used to it, and today, she feels that these people seem to always talk like this, this is her life. An indispensable part of the foil.But where is that slender chestnut-haired girl who fed sugar to the horses now? We pulled our chairs up to the pull-out table and started eating cress sandwiches.The nurse specially prepared a few slices for the old lady. "Look, isn't it a treat?" she said. I saw a smile slowly blooming on that calm and serene face. "I'm happy when it comes time to eat cress snacks," she said. The tea was too hot to drink.The nurse held the tea and asked her to sip it bit by bit. "Today's tea is boiling again," said the nurse Beatrice nodded. "It's a very disturbing thing. They keep putting tea on the fire. I've told them so many times, but they won't listen." "Oh, they're not all the same!" said Beatrice. "I don't take it seriously anymore." The old lady stirred her cup of tea with a small spoon, her eyes dazed and dazed.I really want to know what she's thinking right now. "How was the weather when you were in Italy?" the nurse asked. "Okay, it's warm," I said. Beatrice turned to her grandmother and said, "She said it was a fine day when they honeymooned in Italy, and Maxim was very tanned." "Why doesn't Maxim come today?" asked the old lady. "Grandmother, we told you that Maxim was in London on business," said Beatrice impatiently. "You know, to a party of some sort. Giles was there, too." "Oh, that's right, then why did you say that Maxim is in Italy!" "He was in Italy for a while, Grandma. It was April. Now they're back at Manderley." She glanced at the nurse and shrugged. "Mr. and Mrs. de Winter are staying at Manderley now," the nurse repeated. "It's so beautiful on the estate this month," I said, leaning closer to Maxim's grandmother. "The roses are in full bloom now, and I ought to bring some." "Yeah, I like roses," she mumbled, and then she came closer and stared at me with those dull blue eyes. "You also stay in Manderley?" I choked.Everyone was at a loss for words, but it was Beatrice who broke the silence.He said impatiently at the top of his voice: "My dear grandmother, you know very well that she lives there now! She is married to Maxim." I noticed that the nurse put down the cup of tea in her hand and cast a quick glance at the old lady.The old lady leaned weakly on the pillow, clutching the shawl with her fingers, her lips trembling slightly. "You guys, you guys are so boring, I don't understand what you're talking about." Then she looked at me again, her brows lightened, and she kept shaking her head. "What kind of girl are you, dear? I've never seen you, have I? I don't know what you look like. I don't remember anyone like you at Manderley. Be, tell me, who's this kid?" Why didn't Maxim bring Rebecca? I love Rebecca so much. Where is my darling Rebecca?" There was silence for a while, and it was a painful moment.I feel the heat on my face.The nurse quickly stood up and walked towards the easy chair. "Get me Rebecca," repeated the old lady. "What's the matter with Rebecca?" Beatrice stood up clumsily from the table, almost knocking over the saucers.She also flushed with embarrassment and her mouth twitched. "I think you'd better go, Mrs. Lacey," said the nurse, blushing and flustered. "She seems to be a little tired. She has such a fit that she sometimes stays dazed for hours. She sometimes gets excited like this. It's a pity that she can't think of this happening today. Mrs. de Winter, I believe you will." Do you understand?" She apologized to me. "Of course," I said quickly. "We'd better say goodbye." Beatrice and I rummaged around looking for bags and gloves.The nurse turned back to her patient. "I said, what's the matter? You don't want to eat a delicious cress sandwich? I cut it just for you." "Where is Rebecca? Why didn't Maxim come and bring Rebecca with him?" was the answer in the weary and resentful weak voice. We walked through the living room, onto the porch, and out the front door again.Beatrice said nothing, just started the car engine.Cars rolled out the white-painted gates down the flat gravel drive. I stared intently at the road ahead.I don't really care much myself.If I were the only one present, I wouldn't take this matter to heart at all.Now I'm afraid Beatrice will be unhappy. The whole thing made Beatrice very confused. When the car drove out of the village, she said to me: "Honey, I'm so sorry, I really don't know what to say." "Look what you're talking about, Beatrice," I said hastily. "It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter at all." "I didn't expect her to come all at once," Beatrice said. "I would never have taken you to her otherwise. I'm so sorry." "There's nothing to be sorry about, please stop talking." "I don't know how it happened. She knows all about you. I wrote to her, and Maxim wrote to her. She was interested in marriage abroad then." "You forget how old she is," I said. "How does she remember these things? She can't connect me with Maxim. She only has the image of him connected with Rebecca." We drove on in silence.It was such a relief to be back in the car like this.The car bumped all the way, and the body swayed sharply when I turned sharply. I don't care about these things now. “我忘了她是很疼爱吕蓓卡的，”比阿特丽斯慢腾腾地说。“我好傻，竟没料到会出现这种场面。我想，去年那场灾祸，她并不完全明白是怎么回事。哦，老天爷，今天下午真是活见鬼。天晓得你会对我有什么看法。” “行行好，别说了，比阿特丽斯，跟你说我不介意的。” “吕蓓卡对老太太总是百般殷勤。她常常把老太太接到曼陀丽去住。我那可怜的好奶奶那时手脚还很灵便，吕蓓卡随便说什么总能逗得她笑得直不起腰。不用说，吕蓓卡向来很风趣，老太太就喜欢那样。她那个人，我是指吕蓓卡，自有一套讨人喜欢的本事；男人、女人、小孩，还有狗，都会被她迷住。我看老太太一直没把她忘掉。亲爱的，过了这么一个下午，你总不会感激我吧。” “我不在乎，不在乎，”我只是机械在念叨着，巴不得比阿特丽斯能撇开这个话题。 我不感兴趣。这事究竟有什么大不了？什么事值得如此耿耿于怀？ “贾尔斯一定会感到很难过，”比阿特丽斯说。“他会怪我带你上那儿去。'你干了件多蠢的事，比。'我能想象到他训人的样子。接着，我就跟他好好吵上一架。” “别提这件事，”我说。“最好把它忘了。否则会一传十，十传百，还要加油添酱呢。” “贾尔斯只要一瞧见我的脸色，就知道出了什么糟糕的事。我从来没有什么事能瞒过他的。” 我沉吟不语。不讲我也知道，这件事将在他们那个好朋友圈子里捅出来。可以想象那是某个星期天的中午，餐桌旁围坐着那一群人，眼睛瞪得溜回，耳朵竖起，先是大气也不敢出，随后是一阵感叹——“我的老天爷，多尴尬，当时你是怎么打圆场的？”然后又问：“她是怎么挺过来的？真窘死人啦！” 对我来说，唯一要紧的是千万别让迈克西姆知道这事。日后我也许会告诉弗兰克?克劳利，不过现在还不是时候，得过一阵子。 不大一会儿工夫，我们已驶上山巅的公路。极目远眺，已能见到克里斯城的第一排灰白屋顶；从那边往右，则是隐藏在山坳低地中的曼陀丽的葱郁密林，树林再过就是大海。 “你是不是一心急着要回家？”比阿特丽斯说。 "No," I said. “不急。怎么？” “要是我把车开到庄园门口，让你在那儿下车，你不会见怪，骂我是头大懒猪吧？我这会儿带紧点；正好可以赶上伦敦来的那班火车，省得贾尔斯雇车站的出租汽车。” “当然不会见怪，”我说。“我可以沿着车道步行回去。” “那就偏劳了，”她口气里带几分感激。 我看今天下午也真够她受的。她也想独自清静一下，不愿再在曼陀丽应付一顿晚了钟点的茶点。 我在庄园门口走下汽车。我们互相吻别。 “下回咱们见面时你得长胖点喔，”她说。“这么瘦骨伶仃，可不大好看。向迈克西姆问好。今天的事儿还得请你多多包涵。”她的车子一溜烟消失在飞扬的尘土之中，我转身沿着车道往庄园走回去。 当年迈克西姆的祖母正是在这条车道上策马驱车的。从那以来，不知车道是不是已经大改其样。那时她还是个少妇，策马打这儿经过时，也像我现在这样曾朝看门人的妻子微笑打招呼。那时候，看门人的妻子还得向她行屈膝礼，那条像伞一样撑开的裙子拖拂着路面。而现在这个女人，只是朝我微微一点头，然后忙着转身去叫唤屋后正跟几只小猫咪一起扒弄泥土的小男孩。迈克西姆的祖母曾低头避开几根下垂摇曳的树枝，让坐骑放开四蹄，在我此刻走着的车道上快步奔跑。那时的车道保养得很好，路面比现在宽阔，也比现在平坦。两旁的树木还没侵入车道。 浮现在我脑海里的并不是那个倚靠枕垫身裹披巾的老妪形象，而是当年她以曼陀丽为家时的少妇情影。我仿佛看到她带了几个小男孩在花园里漫步，那孩子是迈克西姆的父亲，他骑着玩具竹马咋达咋达跟在她身后，身上穿件浆得笔挺的诺福克上衣，头颈里围着白色的领饰。那时候，到海湾去野餐一顿就好比一次远征，难得有机会享受这种乐趣。不知在什么地方，大概是在哪本保存了多年的影集里吧，可能还收藏着一张照片——阖家围着一块摊在沙滩上的台布正襟危坐，后面是一排仆役，站在大食品篮的旁边，我仿佛又看到前几年时候的迈克西姆的祖母，已显出龙钟老态，拄根拐杖，在曼陀丽的平台上一步一步走着。有个人走在她身边，悉心搀扶着她，一边还发出朗朗笑声。此人苗条颀长。面目姣好，用比阿特丽斯的话来说，生来具有一套讨人喜欢的本领。想来不论谁见着都会喜欢，都会钟情的。 我终于来到车道的尽头，瞧见迈克西姆的汽车停在屋子前，不禁心头一喜，三步并作两步走进大厅，只见桌上放着他的帽子和手套。我朝藏书室走去，快到门口时，听到里面有人讲话，其中一个的嗓门压过另一个，那是迈克西姆的声音。门关着，我在门口踌躇了一下，设立刻走进去。 “你可以写信告诉他，就说是我讲的，叫他以后别再到曼陀丽来，听见没有？别管是谁告诉我的，这无关紧要。事有凑巧，我听人说昨天下午在这里看到过他的汽车。假如你想见他，尽可以到曼陀而外面去和他碰头。我不许他跨进这儿的门槛，明白吗？记住，这是我最后一次向你提出警告。” 我蹑手蹑脚地从藏书室门口溜开，走到楼梯口。我听见藏书室的门开了，便飞奔上楼，躲进画廊。丹弗斯太太走出藏书室，随手把门关上。我急忙贴着画廊的墙壁，身子缩作一团，生怕被她看见。我从墙根瞥见了她的脸。她气得面色煞白，五官歪扭着，显得狰狞可怕。 她悄悄声儿地疾步走上楼梯，拐进那扇通西厢的过道门，不见了。 过了一会我才慢慢走下楼梯，来到藏书室。我打开门，走进屋子，迈克西姆站在窗边，手里拿着几封信。他背对着我。有那么一刹那，我真想偷偷溜出去，上楼回自己房间，宁可一个人坐在那儿。想必是听到我的声音，只见他不耐烦地转过身来。 “这回又是谁来了，”他说。 我微笑着向他伸出双手。“你好哇！”我说“哦，是你……” 我一眼就看出有什么事惹得他火冒三丈。他噘着嘴，屏紧的鼻孔气得煞白。“这两天你一个人干些什么来着？”说着，他在我额头上吻了一下，伸出胳臂搂住我的肩膀。 他不过是昨天离开我的，可我仿佛觉得其间已不知相隔了多少年月。 “我去探望过你的祖母，”我说。“是今天下午比阿特丽斯开车子接我去的。” “老太太身体怎么样？” "not bad." “比阿特丽斯人呢？” “她得赶回去接贾尔斯。” 我俩并肩临窗坐下。我把他的手攥在自己手里。“我真不愿你离开我，好惦记你啊！”我说。 “是吗？”他说。 过后，有一会我俩谁也不开口。我只是握着他的手。 “伦敦天热吗？”我说。 “是呀，热得难受。我一向讨厌那地方。” 我不知道他是否会把刚才在这儿对丹弗斯太太发火的一事儿告诉我。想想也奇怪，是谁对他说起费弗尔曾到这儿来过呢？ “你有什么心事吗？”我说。 “旅途很辛苦，累了，”他说。“二十四小时之内往返驾车两次，谁都受不了。” 他站起身走开去，点了支烟。我这时已明白，他是不会把丹弗期太太的事说给我听的。 “我也累了，”我慢悠悠地说。“今天可以算是一个挺有趣的日子哩。”