Chapter 26 Chapter Twenty Six

The next morning, just after six o'clock, I woke up.I got up from the bed and went to the window.The lawn was covered with a layer of frosty silver dew, and the bushes were hidden in a white mist.The fresh breeze is mixed with a bit of chill, which makes people feel the quiet and bleak autumn. I knelt on the window seat and looked down at the rose garden, where the roses were all drooping on their stalks, and the petals had turned brown and were beginning to wilt after being blown by the night's wind and rain.Looking at all this, I felt that the series of events that happened yesterday seemed like a long-lost dream.At this moment, Manderley has started a new day, and the flowers, birds, plants and trees in the garden have nothing to do with our troubles and misfortunes.A crow hopped out of the rose garden and headed for the lawn, stopping every now and then to peck at the dirt with its yellow beak.A thrush was also busy with its own affairs; two sturdy pony pigeons were jumping and playing one after the other; there was also a group of sparrows chirping.A lone seagull, soaring silently and quietly in the sky, suddenly spread its wings and swooped down, skimming the lawn towards the woods and the Valley of Happiness.

The creatures around us go about their lives as usual, and our worries and anxieties are powerless to alter its course.Before long, the gardeners are up to work, sweeping the first leaves from lawns and paths while raking the gravel from the driveway.There would be the ding-dong of pails in the yard behind the house; the hose would be aimed at the car; and the kitchen girl would chatter with the yard boy through the open kitchen door.The smell of fried bacon fills the room.The maid will open the doors, throw open the windows, draw the curtains. The dogs would crawl out of their crates, yawn and stretch, and then step out onto the platform and wink at the pale sun struggling to emerge from the mist.Robert would spread out the table and serve breakfast: brulee, a nest of eggs, dishes of honey and jam, a pot of peaches, and a bunch of fresh purple grapes fresh from the conservatory, with their pink coat still on them.

The maids will begin sweeping the morning room and drawing room, letting fresh, cool air pour into the long open windows.Smoke billowed from the chimney.The autumn morning fog will gradually dissipate, and the trees, grass slopes, and forests will begin to reveal their outlines; the sun will shine on the sea at the bottom of the Happy Valley, and the sea will sparkle; the lighthouse will stand on the promontory. Tranquil, secluded and beautiful Manderley!No matter who lives within the walls, no matter what disputes and conflicts arise, no matter how heartbroken worries and pain are, no matter why people cry, no matter what misery people suffer, the peace of Manderley will not be affected. Any worries, Mandali's beauty will not be slightly damaged.When the flowers wither, they will compete for beauty in the coming year; the same birds fly to build their nests, and the same plants bloom and bloom.The scent of old moss will linger in the air again; bees, and crickets, will revisit their native land; and herons will build their nests in the deep woods.Butterflies will dance happily on the grass again, and spiders will weave misty silk webs again; and those frightened little rabbits who broke in for no reason are poking around in the dense bushes.Lilies, as well as honeysuckle, bloom in the gardens; buds of magnolias bloom under the dining room windows.No one can hurt a hair on Mandali.The house will always stand like a magic palace on this low ground, surrounded by dense forests, safe and sound, while the sea washes, rushes, and beats in the small pebble bay below the trees.

Maxim was still asleep, and I didn't try to wake him.We've got a long, exhausting day ahead: the roads, the poles, the monotony of traffic, the slow crawl into London.We don't know what the end result of this trip will be.The future is uncertain.Somewhere north of London lives a man named Baker, who has never known us, but holds our destiny in his hands.after a while.The person also wakes up, stretches, yawns, and goes about his day.I got up, went into the bathroom, and started running the bath water in the tub.My series of actions at this time, in terms of their meaning, is no different from Robert's cleaning the library last night.When I used to do these things, it was purely unconscious mechanical action, but now, when I throw the sponge in the water, when I take the towel from the warm rack and spread it on the chair, when I lie down in the tub , Let the water flow all over my body, I am clearly aware of every movement.Every minute and every second of time is extremely precious and contains the essence of a certain final destination.

When I went back to the bedroom and began to dress, I heard a sound of quiet footsteps, from far to near, and finally stopped outside the door. Then the key turned slightly in the lock.After a moment of silence, the sound of footsteps gradually going away sounded again.That's Mrs. Danvers. She has not forgotten.I had heard the same sound last night, after we had gone upstairs from the library to our room.She did not knock, not wanting anyone to know that she was here; there were only soft steps and the turning of a key in the lock. The voice brought me back to the real life again, and made me face up to the reality I was about to face.

I dressed and went to fill Maxim's bath water.After a while, Clarice brought us morning tea, and I woke Maxim.At first, he stared at me with wide-eyed eyes inexplicably like a child, then he stretched out his arms.We had morning tea together.He got up and took a shower, and I started packing methodically, packing travel items into suitcases.Maybe we'll have to stay in London for a while. I put the hairbrush that Maxim had given me, a pair of pajamas, my daily dressing gown, and slippers in the suitcase, along with a change of eyelet and a pair of shoes.When I dragged the suitcase out of the back of the closet, it seemed strange to me.

It seems like I haven't used it for a long time, and it's only been four months.On the surface of the box was still a chalk mark scribbled by the Calais customs officer.A ticket to a concert at the Monte-Carlo was contained in a trunk pocket.I crumpled it up and threw it in the wastebasket.It should belong to another era, another world.The bedroom was beginning to take on that messy look it always had when its master was away from home.Once the hairbrushes were in the suitcase, the dresser was empty.The tissue paper used for wrapping things was scattered all over the floor, and there was also an old label.The bed we slept in was empty and desolate.The towel was left crumpled on the bathroom floor.The wardrobe door was open.I put my hat on so I wouldn't have to come upstairs again; I took my bag and gloves, picked up my trunk, and glanced about the room to see what else I had forgotten.

The sunlight pierced through the dissipating fog, casting patterns on the carpet.I walked along the passage, but in the middle of it, I suddenly felt a strange inexplicable feeling, and felt that I must go back and take a good look at the room. So I walked back inexplicably, and stayed in the room for a while, looking at the open wardrobe, the empty bed, and the tea set on the table.I stared at these things, let them be engraved in my mind forever, and secretly wondered why these things had such a force that pulled my heartstrings and made me sad, as if they were a group of people who were reluctant to leave me. go kids.

I turned and went downstairs to have breakfast.It was chilly in the dining room, and the sun had not yet hit the window sill.I appreciate the piping hot black coffee and refreshing bacon they serve me.Maxim and I ate in silence.From time to time he looked at the clock. I heard Robert put our suitcases and traveling blankets in the hall, and soon there was the sound of a car pulling up to the door. I walked out of the restaurant and stood on the platform.The air after the rain is extraordinarily fresh, and the green grass exudes a refreshing fragrance.But when the red sun shines, it must be a refreshing autumn day.I thought, if we hadn't been out, maybe we would have gone for a walk in Happy Valley before lunch, and then sat outside under the chestnut tree and read the newspaper after dinner.I closed my eyes and stood quietly for a while. The sun shone on my face and hands, making me feel warm.

I heard Maxim calling from the house.I turned back and went in, and Frith helped me put on my coat.I hear another car.Here comes Frank. "Colonel Julian is waiting at the gate of the estate. He doesn't think it's necessary to come here by car." "Yes," said Maxim. "I'll be in the office all day waiting for your call," Frank said. "After you see Baker, maybe you will find me something and need me to attend the meeting in London." "Okay," said Maxim. "Maybe." "It's only nine o'clock," Frank said. "You two are very punctual. The weather is fine today. The road must be smooth."

"yes." "I hope you don't overwork yourself, Mrs. de Winter," he said to me. "You have to work hard today." "I can handle it," I said.I looked at Jesper at my feet. His ears were drooping, and his sad eyes seemed to be blaming me. "Take Jasper to the office," I said. "It looks pitiful." "Okay," he said. "I'll take it with me." "Let's go," said Maxim. "Old Julian is getting impatient. That's it, Frank." I got into the car and sat next to Maxim.Frank slammed the car door shut. "You'll call, won't you?" he said. "Yes, sure," said Maxim. I looked back into the house to see Frith standing on the top of the steps with Robert right behind him.Out of nowhere, tears welled up in my eyes.In order not to be seen, I turned my head away and fumbled for my handbag on the floor of the car.At this point Maxim started the car and we turned the corner into the driveway, leaving the house behind. We stopped at the gate of the estate to pick up Colonel Julian.He stepped into the car through the rear door, and saw me in the car at a glance, showing disapproval. "Today is a lot of work, it must be hard work," he said. "I don't think you need to go with me. I'll take care of your husband, you know." "I'd like to see it too," I said. He didn't say anything more, just sat down in the corner, and said, "The weather is fine, which is something to be thankful for." "Yes," said Maxim. "That guy Favre said he'd be waiting for us at the crossroads. If he ain't there, you don't have to wait for him; it's easier without him. I wish that nasty guy overslept." But when we came to the intersection, I saw the long and narrow green body of his car at a glance, and I was cold for a while. I thought maybe he wouldn't make it on time.Favre was sitting behind the wheel, hatless, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.He saw us, grinned, and waved for us to keep going.I settled more comfortably in my seat, put one hand on Maxim's lap, and prepared for the long journey.Hour after hour passed, and the car drove one way after another.I looked at the road ahead flickeringly. Colonel Julian dozed off from time to time in the back seat. When I turned around occasionally, I always saw his head drooping on the cushion and his mouth open.The green car was inseparable from us, sometimes jumping in front of us, sometimes falling behind, always within our sight.At one o'clock in the afternoon, we stopped for a while and had dinner in an old-fashioned hotel.This kind of old-fashioned hotel can be seen in any town street.Colonel Julian devoured first soup and fish before turning to roast beef and Yorkshire cloth.I ate up a set meal like a storm.Maxim and I had some cold ham and coffee. I had expected Favere to go into the restaurant and eat there too, but when we walked out of the hotel to our car, we saw his car parked across the street in front of a bar.He must have seen us from the window, for we were only three minutes on the road and he was trailing us again. About three o'clock we came to the outskirts of London.Only then did I start to feel tired, and the noise and traffic around me started to make my head swell.Besides, the weather in London is hot, the streets are dusty, and it is a listless August scene; the trees are the same, and the leaves are all hanging down on the branches.There was a thunderstorm in our place yesterday, which must have been localized, and there was not a drop of rain here. People in cotton clothes are bustling around, and the men don't wear hats.The air smelled of wastepaper, orange peel, sweaty feet, and burnt hay.Clumsy buses plod along, taxis seem to crawl.I felt that the coat and skirt seemed to be sticking to my body, and the socks were burning hot against my skin. Colonel Julian straightened up and looked out of the window where he was seated. "It never rains here," he said. "Yes," said Maxim. "Looks like this place needs some rain." "yes." "We couldn't shake Favere off. The kid's still on the trail." "yes." Business districts on the outskirts seem crowded.Women with tired faces stared intently at the window, babies were crying in prams beside them; peddlers shouted loudly along the road; little boys were hanging from the back of trucks.So many people, so much noise.The vibe alone was inflaming and exhausting. The journey through downtown London was endlessly long.By the time we got out of the surrounding traffic again and sped across Hampstead, my head was buzzing like a drum was beating in my ear and a fire was burning in my eyes . I secretly wondered how tired Maxim must be at this moment.He was pale and had dark circles around his eyes, but he said nothing.Colonel Julian was yawning in the backseat.He opened his mouth wide, yawned loudly, and then sighed heavily.He does this every few minutes.I suddenly had an unknown fire in my heart, and I didn't know how to control myself, so as not to turn around and scream at him, telling him to stop doing this. As soon as the car passed Hampstead, he took out a large-scale map from his coat pocket and began to show Maxim how to drive to Barnet.There are few vehicles on the road, and there are road signs on the side of the road, but every time he turns, he still keeps gesticulating.If Maxim hesitated, Colonel Julian would roll down the window and shout to passers-by for directions. After the car drove into Barnet, he asked Maxim to stop every few minutes, "Excuse me, is there a house called 'Rose House' here? The owner is a retired doctor named Baker. I just moved here." The passer-by who was asked always frowned, with a blank expression on his face, apparently not knowing where the house was. "Dr. Baker? I've never heard of a Dr. Baker here. There used to be a house called 'Rose Cottage' near the church, but a Mrs. Wilson lived in it." "No, we're talking about the Rose House, Dr. Baker's house," said Colonel Julian.So we continued to move forward, and stopped in front of a nurse pushing a stroller after a while. "Where is the 'Rose House'?" "I'm sorry. I just came to live here." "Didn't you know there was a doctor named Baker?" "Dr. Davidlin. I know Dr. Davidlin." "No, we're asking Dr. Baker." I glanced up at Maxim.His face was tired and his mouth was tightly pursed.Favre followed us slowly, the green car covered in dust. Finally, a postman pointed out the house to us.It was a square, ivy-covered house with no nameplate on the gate.In fact, we have passed this house twice.I unconsciously grabbed my handbag and dabbed a couple of times on my cheeks with the puff.The driveway in front of the house was short, and Maxim did not drive into it, but parked on the side of the road.We sat in silence for a few minutes. "Well, here we are at last," said Colonel Julian. "It's exactly twelve past five. If we break in now, they'll be halfway through their tea. Let's wait." Maxim lit a cigarette and held out his hand to me.He didn't speak.I heard Colonel Julian rustling his map. "We could have just bypassed central London and drove straight here," he said. "I think it saves forty-five minutes. We ran pretty fast the first two hundred miles. Once Cheswick it took time." A delivery boy passed us on his bicycle, whistling.A long-distance bus stopped at the corner, and two women stepped out of the bus.Somewhere the church clock chimed quarter past five.I saw Favre in the back leaning back in the car seat, smoking a cigarette.At this time, my heart was blank, and I had no feeling left. I just sat and watched the insignificant street scenes around me with cold eyes.The two women who got off the bus walked along the road.The delivery guy turned a corner and disappeared, and a sparrow was jumping around in the middle of the road, pecking at the mud on the ground. "Baker doesn't look very good at gardening," said Colonel Julian. "Look at those tangled bushes growing taller than the wall. They should have been pruned and cut short." He folded up the map and put it in his pocket. "Fortunately, he figured it out and picked such a good place to retire," he said. "Close to the highway and tucked under someone's high-rise. If only I hadn't done it. I'm afraid this place would have been nice before all the construction. Needless to say, there must be a good golf course nearby." He was quiet for a while, then opened the car door, got out of the station and stood on the road. "Hey, De Winter," he said, "how about going in now?" "All right," said Maxim. We step out of the car.Favere wobbled toward us. "Why have you dawdled all this time? Cringed?" he said. He didn't answer him.We walked down the driveway to the main entrance, and it must have looked like a strange bunch of us to have gotten together somehow.I saw a lawn tennis court over the house and heard the bang, bang.A boy's voice called, "Forty to fifteen, not thirty. You jackass, don't you remember when the ball went out of bounds?" "Their tea must be finished," said Colonel Julian. He hesitated for a moment, glanced at Maxim, then reached for the bell. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the house.It took a while before a very young maid came to open the door.She was surprised to see so many people coming. "Is it Dr. Baker's?" said Colonel Julian. "Yes, sir, please come in." She opened a door to the left of the hall and we filed in.This is probably a living room that is rarely used in summer. On the wall hung a portrait of a dark, plain-looking woman.Could it be Mrs. Baker, I thought.The calico covers on the chairs and sofas were new and gleaming.On the mantelpiece were photographs of two smiling, round-faced schoolboys.In the corner near the window, there is a large radio, from which several wires are pulled out, and several antennas are also connected.Fevre studied the portrait on the wall.Colonel Julian went and stood before the empty fireplace.Maxim and I looked out the window.I saw a deck chair under a tree and the back of a woman's head.Tennis courts must be around the corner.I heard the boys yelling.An old Scotch terrier crouched in the middle of the path scratching his itch.We waited in the room for about five minutes.It's as if I've become someone's double, and I've come to this house to collect charitable donations.This situation bears no resemblance to my previous experiences.I felt neither emotion nor pain. At this moment, the door opened, and a man of medium build came in, with a long face, a pointed chin, red and yellowish hair that was beginning to gray, wearing flannel pants and a dark blue sweater. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he said.Like the maid just now, he was a little surprised to see so many people coming. "I had to go upstairs and wash my face. I was playing tennis when the doorbell rang. Sit down, please!" he said to me.I sat down on the nearest chair, watched and waited. "Doctor Baker, you must have found it very abrupt that we came to the house this time," said Colonel Julian. "I am sorry for the disturbance. My name is Julian. This is Mr. De Winter, Mrs. De Winter, and Mr. Favere. You may have seen Mr. De Winter's name in the papers recently. " "Oh," said Dr. Baker, "yes, yes. I think I saw it. An autopsy, an arraignment, or something, didn't I? My wife read the whole thing." "The jury verdict was suicide," Favre stepped forward and said. "I mean, it's quite impossible. Mrs. de Winter is my cousin. I know her very well. She would never do such a thing. Besides, she has no motive for suicide. We want to find out. , on the day she died, why did she come to you specially?" "You'd better let Julian and I talk," said Maxim calmly. "Dr. Baker has no idea what you're talking about." Maxim turned to the doctor, who was standing between the two of them at this moment, his brows were slightly wrinkled, and the polite smile that had just appeared on his face hung unnaturally on the corner of his mouth. "My ex-wife's cousin was not happy with the jury's verdict," Maxim said. "We made a special trip to visit today because we found your name and the phone number of your original clinic in my wife's appointment book. She seems to make an appointment to see you, and I will invite you to see it as scheduled. The time is two One o'clock, it was the last afternoon she spent in London. Could you please check it for us." Dr. Baker listened with interest, but when Maxim finished he shook his head. "I'm very sorry," said he, "but I think you may be mistaken, and if there was such a patient I should remember the name De Winter. But I have never seen a Mrs. De Winter in my life." Colonel Julian took out his wallet and showed the doctor the scrap of paper torn from the appointment book. "Look, here it says," he said, "Baker, it's two o'clock. There's a big X next to it to show you're on time. Here's the telephone address: Museum Quarter 0488." Dr. Baker stared intently at the page. "That's odd, it is. Yes, that's a pretty good number you're talking about." "Will she use a pseudonym when she sees you?" asked Colonel Julien. "Oh, yes, it's possible. Maybe she really came to the doctor under a fake name. It's naturally quite rare. I never encourage it myself. If patients think that we doctors can be treated in this way, it is very important to our diagnosis and treatment. Illness is no good." "Will there be a record of this visit in your medical records?" Colonel Julian said. "I know that making such a request is against the norms of the medical profession, but the situation is very special. We think that her asking you to see her doctor must have something to do with the whole case, and it must also be related to her subsequent suicide." "Killed," Feffer said. Dr. Baker raised his eyebrows and looked at Maxim questioningly. "I didn't think it would come to this," he said quietly. "Of course I can understand, and I am willing to do my best to help you. If you don't mind, please wait a few minutes, and I will go to check the medical records. Every time a patient makes an appointment for a doctor, they will be registered in the register. There should also be a record of the condition. There are cigarettes here, please take them yourself. I think it’s too early to drink sherry?” Colonel Julian and Maxim shook their heads politely.It seemed to me that Fevre was about to say something, but before he could say anything, Dr. Baker had left the living room. "The man seems decent enough," said Colonel Julian. "Why doesn't he buy us some whiskey and soda?" said Favre. "Going to town and hiding, I think! I don't think he's very nice. I don't believe he's going to help us any more." Maxim was silent.I could hear the sound of tennis being played from the other side of the court.Scotch (犭geng) dogs barking.A woman yelled loudly to quiet the dog.It's summer vacation.Baker was playing tennis with the kids just now.We disrupted their normal life order.A small gold clock with a glass cover on the mantelpiece was ticking rapidly and crisply.An art postcard with a view of Lake Rizhiva leans against the clock.The Bakers have friends in Switzerland. Dr. Baker returned to the room, holding a large book and a medical case in both hands.He lifted the two items onto the table. "I took all the records from last year," he said. "I haven't looked through the records since we moved. You know, I just went out of business six months ago. "He opened that book and flipped through the pages. I stared at it. Of course he'd find that record. Now it'll take a moment, a few seconds." Seven, eight, ten, " He murmured, "Not here.Did you mean number twelve?Is it two o'clock?what! " None of us moved, all eyes were on his face. "At two o'clock on the twelfth I saw a Mrs. Danvers," he said. "Danny? Damn, why..." Favre just opened his mouth, but was immediately interrupted by Maxim. "Of course she didn't give her real name," he said. "That was obvious from the beginning. Do you remember the details of that visit now, Dr. Baker?" Dr. Baker was already looking through the medical records. He put his finger into the file bag marked with the letter D and found it almost immediately.He glanced down at his handwriting quickly. "Well," he said quietly, "by the way, Mrs. Danvers. I remember now." "Tall. Slim, dark-cheeked, very handsome, eh?" said Colonel Julian softly. "Yes," said Dr. Baker. "yes." He went through the medical records and put them back in the case. "Of course," he said, looking at Maxim, "you know it's against the rules of our profession? We treat patients like penitent believers. But the Honorable Madam is dead, and I fully understand the situation." Quite peculiar. You want to know if I can shed some light on the motives of the honorable lady's suicide, don't you? I think I can. The woman who claims to be Mrs. Danvers is very ill." He stopped talking and looked at us one by one. "I remember her condition well," he went on, his eyes falling back on the medical file. "She came back to me for the first time, a week before the date you mentioned. She told her usual symptoms, and I took some X-rays for her. The second time was to see the results of the photos. ...these are not here, but I have the details down. I remember how she stood in my office and held out her hand to take the film. 'I want to know,' she said.'I Don't listen to the comforting words that don't hurt, and don't cheer me up. If I can't do it, you can tell me directly.'" He paused, then looked down at the medical records. I wait, wait.Why doesn't he just get this over with and let us go?Why do we have to sit here, staring at him and waiting? "Well," said he, "she wants to know the truth, and I tell her the truth. Some patients are better off, and it's not necessarily good for them to be evasive. This Mrs. Danvers, rather That Mrs. de Winter is not the kind of person who believes the truth when she hears a lie. You must know this. She was very calm and fearless at the time. She said that she herself had doubts for a long time. After finishing speaking, she paid the consultation fee and left. I never saw this lady again.” He closed the medical case with a snap, and closed the notebook again. "Up to that point, the pain wasn't that bad, but the tumor was ingrained," he said. "In three or four months, she'll be on morphine for the pain. Surgery won't help at all. I told her all this. It's deeply rooted. Who's going to have to deal with it? There is no other way but to take morphine and wait to die." No one in the room said anything.The little clock was ticking merrily on the fireplace.Boys play tennis on a court in the garden.A plane buzzed overhead. "Outwardly, she was of course a perfectly healthy woman," he said. "I remember being a little too thin and pale, but it's a pity to say that's just the way it is now. If the patient is just thin, it's not a big deal. The problem is that the pain lasts a week. It gradually intensified in a week, and as I told you just now, she had to live on morphine in less than four or five months. I remember from the X-ray that the uterus was a bit deformed, that is to say, she would never It is impossible to have children, but that is another matter entirely, and has nothing to do with the disease. I remember that Colonel Julian was the next to speak, and he made a few polite remarks about "Thanks to the doctor for taking the time to help me." "You told us all we wanted to know," he said. "It might be useful if we had the possibility to get a medical summary report. "Of course," said Dr. Baker. "certainly." Everyone stood up.I also stood up from the chair.I shook hands with Dr. Baker.We all—shake his hand.We followed him into the hall.A woman peeped in from a room on the other side of the corridor and shrank back as soon as she saw us.Upstairs, someone was taking a shower, and the water was splashing.The Scotch terrier came in from the garden and started sniffing my heels. "Should I send the report to you or to Mr. de Winter?" said Dr. Baker. "Perhaps we don't need it at all," said Colonel Julian. "Now that I think about it, there is no need to send it to us. Wait for a letter from Derwent or me if necessary.this is my name card. " "It's a pleasure to be of service to you," said Dr. Baker. "It never occurred to me that Mrs. de Winter and Mrs. Danvers were the same person." "Of course, how could you think of that," said Colonel Julian. "You are probably going back to London now?" "Yes, I think so." "The most convenient way of going, then, is to take a sharp left at the post-box, and a right at the church. Then there is the high road to London." "Thank you. Thank you very much." We came out of the house, up the driveway, and walked to our car.Dr. Baker led the Scotch terrier into the house. I heard the door closing.A one-legged tramp at the end of the road now began to shake the hurdy-gurdy and played "Picati's Rose."