Chapter 5 Chapter Three (1)

Twenty-eight-year-old Doctor Urbino was the favorite bachelor.He had just returned from a long sojourn in Paris. In Paris, he studied medicine and surgery.From the moment he landed, he fully explained that he did not waste an inch of time. He is more well-dressed and more confident than when he went.Among his classmates, no one was as meticulous and knowledgeable in academics as he was, and no one was better at dancing modern dance or improvising on the piano.His personal talent and demeanor are overwhelming, his family's wealth is enviable, he secretly competes with his well-matched girls, and he frequently flirts with him, and he also reciprocates them, but he always maintains a free and easy way, begging for more. But the charm remains, until the charming Fermina makes him fall in love at first sight.

He always relished saying that the love affair was the result of a misdiagnosis.He himself could not believe that it had turned out to be true, especially at that moment in his life when he had devoted all his affection to the fate of his city.He always kept his three words in his line, and he said that there is no other city in the world that can match his city.In Paris, in the late autumn, he walked arm in arm with his lover, feeling that he could never find more pure happiness than those golden afternoons, the chestnuts in the brazier gave off the fragrance of the mountains, the accordion was humming melancholy, love Insatiable lovers kiss endlessly on the open-air balcony.However, he said with his hand that he would not trade all this for an April in the Caribbean.At that time, he was still too young to know that the inner memory can erase the bad things and make the good things more beautiful. It is because of this function that we can still remember the past.However, when he leaned on the railing of the ship and saw again the white highlands of the old district left over from the colonial period, saw the vultures standing on the roof, and saw the rags hanging on the balcony, it was only when he Only at this time did he understand in his heart that the nostalgic disease of suppressing evil and promoting good has easily fooled him.

The steamer slowly entered the harbor through the floating carcasses of livestock. The stench was unbearable, and most of the passengers hid in the cabin.The young doctor abandoned the ship along the gangway and landed. He was wearing a three-piece camel hair suit that was pressed and pressed, and a long smock over it.The beard on his face is the same as that of Pastor in his youth, and the line in the middle of his split hair is clear and white.He was looking forward to it, and he barely covered the bow tie that was not unbearable but also daunting. The pier was almost empty, except for a few barefoot soldiers without uniform on duty, his two younger sisters, his mother, and a few of his closest friends waiting to pick him up.For all their joy, he found them haggard and lifeless.

They spoke of the crisis and the civil war as if they were talking of something remote and innocuous, but each word flickered, his eyes wandered, and he didn't mean it.What shocked him most was his mother, who had been a dignified, socially active, graceful woman who had shown her talents in life, and who now wore a lace dress that smelled of camphor.A haggard widow.Her son's hesitation made her aware of the change in her appearance. She used offense as defense to ask why her son's face was as white as paraffin. "It's life, mother," he said. "Paris makes you blue."

Later, as he sat in the closed car next to his mother, he felt suffocatingly hot. The shocking and sad scenes flashed by the car window made him unbearable any longer.The sea seemed to be ashes, and the former marquis's mansion had almost become a shelter for groups of beggars. The refreshing fragrance of jasmine could not be smelled, and there was only the stench from the garbage dumps piled in the open air.Everything seemed smaller, dilapidated, and miserable to him than when he had gone.There are swarms of hungry rats in the excrement piles on the street, and the horses pulling the carts are frightened and hesitate.On the long road from the port to his home, in the heart of the Governor's District, he had found nothing worthy of his nostalgia.He couldn't stand it anymore, turned his head back to avoid being seen by his mother, and silent tears rolled down.

The old Casalduero Marquis, the mansion in which the Ulviro de la Calle family lived for generations, was not the best maintained compared with the survivors around it.Dr. Urbino's heart was broken when he entered the gloomy antechamber and saw the dusty fountain in the inner garden and Yinjian crawling among the flowerless weeds.He found that, on the way to the main hall, from the broad steps surrounded by the copper balustrade, much of the marble had disappeared, and what remained was broken and broken.His father, a surgeon more devoted than his medical skills, had died of the Asian cholera that had decimated the city six years earlier, and the life of the house had died with it.His mother, Mrs. Branca, was determined not to take off her mourning clothes for the rest of her life. Due to the depression of grief, she had already canceled the singing and dancing evenings and family concerts that were famous during her husband's life, and replaced them with the novena in the afternoon.His two younger sisters, contrary to their lively nature and love of communication, became the walking dead nuns of the convent.

On the night of returning home, Dr. Urbino did not sleep all night, frightened by the darkness and silence.A stone bird came in through the crack of the open door, and every one o'clock it called in the bedroom.He said the Rosary three times to the Holy Spirit, and every other verse that he could remember for exorcism and for a safe night.The cries of the mad woman from the madhouse next door called "Our Lady" and the unhurried dripping of the water from the urn into the basin resounded in every corner, lost the direction in the bedroom The sound of the stone crow's long legs pacing on the ground, his natural fear of the dark and the ghost of his dead father in this sleeping empty house made his hair stand on end.At five o'clock, when the stone bird crowed with the neighbor's rooster, Dr. Urbino clasped his hands and begged the Holy God not to stay another day in his ruined hometown.But the love of his loved ones, the Sunday outings, the wistful flattery of the young ladies of his class, made him forget the pain of that first night.Gradually, he got used to the sweltering heat in October, the pungent smell, the childish opinions of his friends, and "doctor, see you tomorrow, don't worry", and finally succumbed to the magic of habit, and soon He found a convenient answer to his change of heart.This was his world, he told himself, a miserable and oppressive world God had created for him, and he should live with it.

The first thing he did was take over his father's clinic.He left the English furniture untouched.The furniture was heavy and strong, the wood rattling in the dawn chill.But the documents issued by the academic institutions of the governorship and the romantic medical institutions, he moved them all to the attic, and put the diplomas of the French trendy schools in glass boxes.With the exception of a portrait of a doctor rescuing a nude female patient and a motto of an ancient Greek doctor printed in Gothic typeface, he removed all the faded pictures and put himself in various European schools. The many and varied diplomas with excellent reviews were posted next to his father's only diploma.

He wanted to implement a new law in Charity Hospital, but it was not as easy as he imagined, even though it was a young man's passion.This old hospital stubbornly clings to outdated superstitions like putting the legs of a bed in a basin of water to keep disease from creeping into the bed, or mandating that designer clothes and chamois gloves be worn in operating rooms because they There is a deep-rooted belief: exquisiteness is the basic condition for aseptic operation.This young man, who had just arrived, tasted his urine to determine whether there was sugar in it, referred to Chakot and Tushaw as if he were his schoolmates, and solemnly warned in class that cowpox was a fatal danger. The newly invented sitting drug is believed to be dubious, and it's all too much to bear.He was alien in every way: his spirit of reform, his eccentric conscientiousness, his insensitivity to wit in a country where wit was everywhere.His virtues, which were in fact his most precious, aroused the envy of his older colleagues and the glib scorn of his younger ones.

What worried him most was the dire sanitary conditions in the city.He went to the highest authorities on all fronts, proposing to fill up those Spanish gutters, which were great breeding grounds for rats, and replace them with covered sewers; instead of being transported to a rubbish dump somewhere far away.The well-appointed colonial houses have latrines with cesspit pits, but two-thirds of those who crowd the easy huts by the lake defecate in the open.The excrement is dried by the sun and turned into dust, which is happily inhaled by everyone in the cool and pleasant December breeze.Dr. Urbino once tried to set up a compulsory training class in the old castle to let the poor learn to build their own toilets.He had fought in vain to ban littering in the woods—which for centuries had become a source of filth—and advocated collecting litter at least twice a week and hauling it away where no one was around. burn it.

He understood that drinking water was a mortal danger.The idea of ​​building a water pipe is a dream, because those who have the ability to make it happen have their own underground pools, where the rainwater stored for many years is hidden under the thick moss.One of the most valuable pieces of furniture of that period was a water urn made of planed wood, with a stone spout that dripped water into it day and night.To prevent anyone from drinking from the absorbent aluminum gourd, the side of the gourd is serrated, like a crown in a farce.The water in the bright and dark earthenware pots looks clear and cool, with the aftertaste of the mountain spring in the forest.but.Dr. Urbino was not fooled by this self-deceived purification. He knew that, despite all the precautions, the bottom of the urn was still a grassy place for maggots.In childhood, in order to pass the time of boredom, he gazed at them for a long time with almost mystical wonder. Like many people at that time, he definitely signaled that they were elves, goblins, and they were in the mud and sand at the bottom of the still water. Li woos little girls, and for love, they will retaliate wildly.As a boy, he had seen the house of a governess named Lasara Alder shattered because she had dared to offend the elves.He also saw broken glass all over the street. In order to destroy the windows, the elves transported piles of stones in three days and three nights.For a long time, he believed this to be true, and later he learned from his studies that mosquitoes are actually mosquito larvae, but once he learned it, he would never forget it, because since then he has discovered that not only mosquitoes , and many, many pests, pass through our naive stone filters unharmed. For a long time, it was reverently believed that the clean water in the pools was responsible for the scrotums that thousands of men in the city dragged with pride, not shame.Urbino, on his way to primary school, saw those shopkeepers sitting in front of their houses on a scorching afternoon, fanning their testicles, which were the size of a child who had fallen asleep between their legs. Sometimes, there is always a premonition of impending disaster.It is said that on a stormy night, the qi will make an ominous bird call; if a vulture's feather is set ablaze nearby, the madness will cause people to die with pain.However, no one complained about this kind of bad luck, because a huge scrotum is a kind of pride of a man who is above everything else.When Dr. Urbino came back from Europe, he already knew that these beliefs had no scientific basis, but these beliefs were deeply rooted in the local area. Many people opposed adding mineral properties to the pool because they were worried that the method of cultivating a large scrotum would be lost. . As with the impurity of the water, the sanitation of the public markets worried Dr. Urbino.The market is a large open space in front of Ghost Bay, where Antilles Company's sailboats are docked.A famous traveler of the time described it as one of the most varied markets in the world.It is true that the market is rich in materials and varieties, and it is extremely lively, but at the same time it may be the most worrying.The market was lying in its own excrement as the waves went back and forth, and the tides of the bay flushed the garbage out of the sewers into the sea.The slaughterhouse next to the market is also dumping dirty things there, chopped heads, rotting internal organs, and animal manure, floating quietly on the pool of blood and exposed to the sun.Vultures, rats, and dogs quarrel endlessly over the venison that hangs under the eaves of the barn, and the delicious Sotavento capon, and the early pods of Aljona that are drying on mats. .Dr. Urbino wanted to clean up this place, and proposed to move the slaughterhouse away and build an indoor market with glass domes like the one he saw in Barcelona at the mouth of the ancient river. The food in those markets was neatly arranged. Bright and clean, it would be a pity to eat it.Yet not even the most submissive of his distinguished friends sympathized with his fantasies.They are the kind of people who are proud of their native place, flaunting the historical achievements of the city, the value of its cultural relics, its heroism and magnificence, without any purpose.They turned a blind eye to the erosion of time on the city. On the contrary, Dr. Urbino looked at the city with deep love and realistic eyes. "This is a rare city," he said. "We have been trying to destroy it for four hundred years, but we have not succeeded." However, catastrophe loomed.Infectious cholera created the death record in the history of our country within eleven weeks, and the first victims of this cholera died suddenly in several puddles in the market.Before this time, some of the most important people were buried in churchyards, in the company of widowed bishops and priests, and others, less wealthy, in monastery yards.The poor were buried in the Colonial Cemetery, on a windward hill, on the vaulted rain-proof roof of the marl bridge over which a filthy aqueduct ran between the hill and the city, inscribed by the order of a prophetic mayor. There was such a line on it: "He who enters this gate should leave all hope at the gate." In the first two weeks of the cholera epidemic, the cemetery was overcrowded.Despite the removal of the bones of many unknown dignitaries into mass graves, not a single grave could be vacated in the church.The steam from the uncovered tomb thinned the air in the cathedral, and the doors of the cathedral were never opened for three years until Fermina met him for the first time during high mass. Until the time of Ariza.In the third week, the backyard of the Santa Clara convent was full of dead bodies.It was hard to reach the poplar grove, and then the church garden, which was twice as large as the poplar grove, had to be converted into a cemetery.There, deep burial pits were dug, and the dead were prepared to be stacked in three tiers for a hasty burial without a coffin.However, even this method had to be abandoned later, because the land full of dead people turned into a sponge, which oozes foul-smelling blood when stepped on.Therefore, it was decided to bury the dead in the fattening ranch called "Hand of God" less than one Spanish mile away from the city, and that ranch was later named "Datong Cemetery". Every quarter of an hour since the announcement of the discovery of cholera.The bunkers in the local garrison camp fired guns, day and night.According to folk superstition, gunpowder can ward off evil spirits.Cholera spreads most among the Negroes, who are the most numerous and the poorest.However, cholera actually doesn't care what color you are or what your origin is.As suddenly as it spread, cholera stopped again, and it was never clear how many people died, not because it is impossible to count, but because one of our most common virtues is to accept our own misfortune. Dr. Marco Aurelo Urbino, the father of Dr. Urbino, became a popular hero in those unfortunate days and at the same time the most notable victim.According to the government's decision, he personally formulated the anti-disease strategy and personally led the fight against the disease.He professed to intervene boldly in all social affairs, and in the days of the worst plague he became a supreme authority.A few years later, when Dr. Urbino consulted the memorabilia of that period of history, he confirmed that his father's methods were benevolent rather than scientific. The role of fueling the flames.He confirmed it with the son's empathy for his father—life gradually turning his son into a father's father, and for the first time, he grieved not being there for his father when he was fighting alone while he made a mistake .He did not, however, belittle his father's merits: his diligence, his self-sacrifice, and above all his solitude, showed that he was well deserved for the rich honor that was bestowed on him after the city had risen from the fatal catastrophe.His name, of course, ranks with the names of many heroes who have appeared in other less glorious wars. The Father did not enjoy His glory.When he found himself terminally ill with someone else whom he had witnessed and sympathized with, he locked himself in a charity hospital without thinking of a futile struggle, but of shutting himself up from the world so as not to infect others. In a back-office office, deaf to the calls of colleagues and the pleas of relatives, indifferent to the heartbreaking wails of dying cholera patients crowded on the floor in the corridor, wrote to his wife and children A letter expressing his fiery love for them and thanking God for living a lifetime, expressing his incomparable and unforgettable love for life.It was an undisguised 20-page farewell letter. The handwriting became more and more blurred. It could be seen that his illness was getting worse. You don't need to know who wrote the letter to know it. It was signed and signed. It was written at the last breath of life.According to his request, the blue-gray body was mixed and buried in the cemetery, and no one who loved him could see it. Three days later, Dr. Urbino received the telegram in Paris, where he was having dinner with friends. He offered to honor his father with a glass of champagne."He's a good guy," he says, and he's sure to blame himself for his immaturity afterwards: in order not to cry, he hides from reality.However, when he received a copy of the suicide note three weeks later, he surrendered to reality.Suddenly, the man he knew first, the man who had raised and educated him, the man who had shared his mother's bed and married hair for thirty and two years, was there again just out of embarrassment. The image of someone who had never expressed his heart to him before writing this letter was profoundly displayed before him.Until then, Dr. Urbino and his family had always regarded death as a catastrophe that happened to others, to other people's parents, to other people instead of their own brothers, sisters, husband and wife.They were slow-metabolizing peoples who didn't see them grow old and sick and die, but slowly fade away in their time, becoming memories, clouds of another age, until they were forgotten.His father's suicide note gave him a more severe blow than the telegram reporting the bad news, convincing him that people are always going to die.However, one of his earliest memories, perhaps from the age of nine, possibly eleven, is in some way a signal of the imminent death he saw in his father.He and his father were both in the home office one rainy afternoon, drawing skylarks and sunflowers with colored chalk on the floor tiles, his father reading by the light from the window, his vest untied, The shirt cuffs were tied with rubber bands.Suddenly, my father stopped reading and scratched his back with an old man with a silver handle on one end.As he couldn't reach it, the father asked his son to help him with the nails of his little hands, which he did. Strangely, he felt that when his father asked him to pick, it seemed that he was not picking his own body.After digging, his father smiled sadly and looked over his shoulder. "If I die now," he said, "you won't remember me when you're my age." There was no apparent reason why the father said this, and the angel of death flew for a while in the dimly lit, cool office, then flew out the window again, leaving a trail of feathers in its path, but the child did not see it. Since then, more than twenty years have passed, and Dr. Urbino will soon be the same age as his father was that afternoon. He knew that he looked exactly like his father, and now, in addition to knowing his resemblance, he knew with horror that, like his father, he always wanted to see God. Cholera had been a headache for him.He didn't know much about cholera beyond the general commonsense he'd gotten at some cram school, and he found it implausible that it had killed 140,000 people in France, including Paris, thirty years earlier.But after his father died, he studied all kinds of cholera that could be studied, which was almost an act of atonement for the peace of his conscience.He was a teacher of Professor Adrian Proust, the most outstanding infectious disease expert of that era, the inventor of the epidemic prevention line, and the father of the great writer Proust.So when he set foot on his native land, smelled the stench of the marketplace from the sea, saw rats in the gutters and naked children wallowing in puddles in the streets, he not only understood why the scene had happened Misfortune, and I am sure that misfortune will happen again at any time. Not long after, less than a year later, students at Charity Hospital asked him to help diagnose a patient with a strange blue color all over his body for free.Dr. Urbino saw the patient at the door and immediately recognized his enemy.It's not bad, the patient came by boat from Curacao three days ago, and he went to the hospital's surgery department at his own expense, so he probably didn't infect anyone.As a precautionary measure, Dr. Urbino told his colleagues not to come into contact with the sick, and persuaded the authorities to alert the ports, find the light ship with the virus, and place it in quarantine.He also tried his best to dissuade the military commander who wanted to declare martial law and immediately implement the treatment of firing a cannon every quarter of an hour. "Save the gunpowder for when the Liberals come," he said to the military governor, pleasantly. "We are not in the Middle Ages any more." On the fourth day, the patient died. Before he died, he had been spitting out white granular things, and he couldn't breathe.However, although the alarm bells were ringing, no similar cases were found for several weeks.Not long after that, the Jieye Daily reported that two children had died of cholera in two different parts of the city.It was verified that the boy suffered from common dysentery, but the other, the girl, was indeed killed by cholera.Her father and three siblings were all isolated and placed in solitary quarantine, and the entire district was under close medical surveillance.One of the three children had contracted cholera, but recovered quickly, and the whole family returned home when the danger passed.In three months, eleven more cases of cholera were detected, the situation intensified worryingly in the fifth month, but a year later, the danger of cholera spreading has been ruled out.No one doubted that the miracles of Dr. Urbino's strict sanitary precautions were more effective than his advocacy.Since then, until well into this century, cholera has become a common disease not only in our city but in almost the entire Caribbean coastal area and the Magdalena River Basin. Take Dr. Urbino's cautionary advice more seriously.Cholera and yellow fever were made compulsory in medical schools, and the urgency of covering sewers and building another market far from the dump was understood.Dr. Urbino, however, was not distracted by cheering his victory and asserting his social mission, for he himself was then conquered, distraught, distraught, determined to forget everything else in life and to use In exchange for Fermina's lightning love. Yes, that was the fruit of a misdiagnosis.A friend of his, who thought he had found signs of cholera in an eighteen-year-old woman, asked Dr. Urbino to diagnose her.Fears that cholera might have broken into the wealthy parts of the Old City—before that all cases of cholera had occurred in the poorer quarters, and almost all of them were among blacks.He went that afternoon.The situation he encountered was not so disappointing.The house covered in the shade of the almond tree in the Gospel Square looks dilapidated and dilapidated from the outside like other houses in the old colonial period, but the interior is magnificent, beautiful and beautiful, as if it is a building from another period.Passing through the porter's house, one sees a Seville-style courtyard, square, freshly plastered white, full of orange trees, and the floor, like the walls, is tiled with fine porcelain tiles.You can't see the ditch, but you can hear the murmur of running water. Bonsai of carnations are placed on the cornices, and cages of rare birds are hung on the brackets.The most rare thing is that there are three vultures in a huge birdcage. When they flap their wings, the whole yard smells strange and fragrant.Suddenly, several dogs chained in a corner of the house began to bark because they smelled strangers, and a woman's scolding stopped their barking abruptly. A large group of cats jumped out from all directions, awed by the majestic voice, and hid in the flowers again.All of a sudden, it was quiet, and through the thumping of birds and the sound of flowing water under the stone slabs, the deep sigh of the sea could be faintly heard. Dr. Urbino shuddered, convinced that God was at hand.In this environment, he thought, it would be difficult for viruses to invade.He followed Placidia through the arched corridors, past the chaotic courtyard and the window of the sewing room where Florentino Ariza first saw Fermina's face, and along the new marble steps. Climb up the stairs to the second floor, and wait for the introduction outside the door of the female patient's room.However, Miss Placidy came out with a message: "Miss says you can't go in now because her father isn't home." At five o'clock in the afternoon, according to the maid's orders, he went again, and Lorenzo Daza himself opened the door for him and led him into his daughter's boudoir.During the diagnosis, he sat in a dimly lit corner, folded his arms over his chest, and tried in vain to control his rapid breathing.It was hard to tell who was more reserved at the time. The doctor shyly touched the patient with his hands, while the patient was wrapped in silk pajamas and kept the boudoir discipline. No one looked at the other's eyes.He asked a question in a voice that must have been his own, and she answered in a trembling voice.Both of them paid attention to the old man sitting next to him.In the end, Urbino asked the patient to sit up, and carefully unbuttoned her pajamas up to the waist. The untouched breasts and tender nipples illuminated the dark boudoir like a bolt of lightning. He hastily folded his arms across his chest to cover them.The doctor calmly moved her arms away, without looking her in the eyes, and auscultated with his ears, first to the chest and then to the back. Dr. Urbino always said that when he first saw the beautiful body of his life partner, he had no evil thoughts. He remembered that the sky-blue pajamas were embroidered with lace, the eyes were glowing with red flames, and the long hair was scattered around his shoulders, but he was so worried that cholera broke into the old district, and his vision was blurred, so he couldn't pay attention to it. Pay attention to the many wonderful things about her body that is about to bloom, and concentrate on inspecting the possible clues left by the virus.She confessed even more cleanly: the young doctor, famous for his cholera, seemed to her at the time no more than a self-absorbed pedant.The diagnosis concluded that she had a food-borne stomach infection, which healed within three days of home treatment. Relieved that his daughter was free from cholera, Lorenzo Daza drove Dr. Urbino all the way to his car and paid a gold peso for the visit—a visit that was notoriously expensive for a doctor who treated the rich. The fee is undoubtedly too high, but when saying goodbye, the old man still showed a grateful expression.The doctor's last name dazzled him, and far from concealing it, he was willing to find ways to have the opportunity to see the doctor again in a less formal setting. The matter should have come to an end here.However, on Tuesday of the following week, Dr. Urbino again inappropriately called at three o'clock in the afternoon, without waiting for an invitation and without prior notice.The white coat on his body was neatly ironed, and his hat was also white with the brim turned up high.He stood by the window and motioned for Fermina to come.She was in the sewing room, taking an oil painting class with two girlfriends.She put the drawing board on the chair and walked towards the window on tiptoe, so as not to drag her ankle-length skirt with ruffled ruffles on the floor.She wore a headband on her head, and a shiny gemstone pendant hung down to her face, shining coldly like her eyes, and her whole body radiated a kind of indifferent brilliance.The doctor wondered why she dressed as if she was attending a social event when she was painting at home.Standing outside the window, he took her pulse, observed her painful tongue, examined her throat with an aluminum spatula, opened her eyelids, and showed a relieved expression every time he made a movement.He was less reserved than he was at the first diagnosis, but she was more reserved, because she didn't know why he came for this test without asking, and he said that if he didn't ask him, he would never come again ah.She was thinking more: she would never want to see him again. After the exam, the doctor put the spatula back into the suitcase full of instruments and vials and snapped the lid shut. "You are like a new rose," he said. "thanks." "Goodbye," he said, and then recited a passage from Thomas incoherently: "Remember, all good things, no matter where they come from, come from the Holy Spirit. Do you like music?" When he asked, there was a charming smile on his face, and his tone was unusual, but there was no smile on her face. "What does that mean?" she asked. "Music is essential to health," he said. He was convinced of it, but she would soon understand, and would know all her life, that the subject of music was his almost magical way of expressing friendship, though at the time she thought he making fun of her.In addition, when they were talking through the window, the two girlfriends who were pretending to be drawing made a younger sister's titter and covered their eyelids with their drawing boards, which made Fermina even more impatient.She got angry and slammed the window shut hard.The doctor stared at the lace curtains, bewildered. He wanted to go to the gate, but he went in the wrong direction and bumped into the cage holding the sweet vulture in a panic.The vulture uttered a strange cry and flapped its wings in panic. The doctor's clothes were immediately filled with the fragrance of women.Lorenzo Daza's explosive voice pinned him there. "Doctor, please wait for me." He saw it all upstairs, buttoning his shirt as he descended the stairs.His face turned purple, and the scene of his nap nightmare was still churning in his mind.The doctor tried to hide his embarrassment. "I told your daughter just now that she is as healthy as a rose." "Not bad," said Lorenzo Daza. "But there are too many thorns." He went up to Dr. Urbino, did not shake hands with him, but opened the two windows of the sewing room and ordered his daughter roughly: "Come here and apologize to the doctor!" The doctor wanted to intervene, but Lorenzo Daza said again indiscriminately: "Come here." With unspeakable distress, she looked at the two girlfriends for help, and retorted to her father that she had nothing to apologize for. said, because she closed the window to keep the sun out of the house.Dr. Urbino tried to explain that her reasons were correct, but Lorenzo Daza refused to back down.Then, Fermina, pale with anger, went to the window again, took a step forward with her right foot, lifted her skirt up with her fingertips, and bowed dramatically towards the doctor. "I sincerely apologize to you, sir," she said. Dr. Urbino returned the salute with a wide-eyed smile, took off his broad-brimmed hat and made a theater stand-up antic, but did not get the forgiving smile he had hoped for.Afterwards, Lorenzo Daza invited him to drink coffee in his study, as an apology.He accepted it happily, as a way of showing that he really didn't have any grievances in his heart. 实际上，乌尔比诺医生除了在斋戒时喝上一杯咖啡，平常是不喝的。除了在正式场合的晚宴上来杯葡萄酒，素常他也是不喝酒的。然而，他不仅喝了洛伦索?达萨端给他的咖啡，还喝了一杯茵香酒。过了一会儿，又喝了一杯咖啡，一杯首香酒，接着又各样来了一杯，虽然他还有几个出诊待办。起初，他还注意听着洛伦索?达萨代表女儿一个劲儿地道歉——说他的女儿是个聪明而正派的姑娘，配得上当地或任何地方的王子，唯一的不足，用他的话来说，是那倔强的脾气。可是，喝完第二杯酒以后，他似乎听见了费尔米纳在庭院深处说话的声音，他想象自己正跟在她的后面：夜幕初降，她打开走廓里的灯，往各个房间喷杀虫剂，揭开灶上盛着当天晚上和她父亲共享的汤锅的盖子，父女二人坐在桌子旁边，眼睛瞧着地下，没有喝场，免得打破赌气的乐趣，后来老头子只好认输了，请求女儿原谅他下午的粗暴。 乌尔比诺医生对女人是相当了解的。他知道，只要他不走，费尔米纳是不会到书房里来的，但他还是煞费苦心地拖延时间，他觉得今天下午遭受的这场羞辱，伤害了他的自尊心，会使他耿耿于怀。洛伦索?达萨差不多烂醉如泥了，他没有看出乌尔比诺医生心不在焉，只顾自个儿晓叨个没完。他滔滔不绝地说话，边说边嚼已经抽灭了的雪茄的外边那层烟叶，大声咳嗽、吐痰，沉重地在转椅上摇来晃去，使转椅的弹簧发出牲口发情般的呻吟。客人每喝一杯，他就港下三杯，当他发觉两人已经对面不见，起身开灯时才把话打住了一会儿。灯光底下，乌尔比诺医生又正视了他一眼，发现他的一只眼睛扭歪了，踉鱼眼珠似的，嘴里说的话跟口形都对不上了，他想这大概是自己喝酒过量而产生的幻觉。他迷迷糊糊地站起来，觉得身子都不是自个儿的了，仿佛还坐在原来的位置上。费了九牛二虎之力，他才没让自己失去理智。 他跟在洛伦索?达萨后面走出书房的时候，已经七点多了。圆月当空。苗香酒的作用，使他觉得庭园就跟飘浮的水面似的，用布蒙起来的鸟笼，则象一个个梦寐中的鬼影。新开的拘橡花，散发出阵阵暖烘烘的香气。缝纫室的窗户敞着，工作台上亮着一盏灯，几幅役画完的画，放在画板架上，似乎在展览。“你在哪里，你无处不在。”乌尔比诺医生走过窗台的时候说了这么一句，但费尔米纳没有听见，也无法听见，因为此时她正在闺房愤然流泪。她歪在床上，等着她父亲去偿还下午受的委屈。医生还惦着向她告别，但洛伦索?达萨设提这个连儿。她那讨人喜欢的哄怒，那条跟小猫舌一般无二的舌头，那鲜嫩的脸庞，宛在眼前。但一想到她永远不愿再见到他，不能再打她的主意了，心里立即涌起一阵凉意。洛伦索?达萨走进门口前厅的时候，已惊醒过来的香秃绕从布罩里发出一声哀鸣。“好心不得好报。” 医生大声说了一句，心里还在想着她的倩影。洛伦索?达萨回过头来问他说什么。 “我没有说。”他回答，“是首香酒在说。” 洛伦索?达萨把他送上车子，想让他收下第二次出诊的金比索，但他把它推开了。他一字不差地向车夫下了指示，让他把车赶到他还没出诊的两个病人的家去，他不用旁人搀扶就登上了马车。可是石子路上的颠簸，使他觉得难受，于是他命令车夫改道而行。他对着车里的镜子照了一会儿，发现镜子里的他也仍然在思念着费尔米纳。他耸了耸肩膀，后来他打了个酸嗝儿，头垂到胸前，沉沉睡去。睡梦中，他听见丧钟响了。起先是大教堂在敲丧钟，后来所有的教堂都敲起来了，一阵接一阵，甚至圣胡安医院里也传来了阵敲打破盆烂罐的声音。 “见他妈的鬼，”他在睡梦里响咕，“死了人了。” 母亲和两个妹妹正在围着宽大的餐室里的那张请客和庆典时才用的餐桌用晚饭，吃奶酪饼，喝牛奶咖啡。她们看见他满脸若相地走进门来，浑身散发着香秃骛的刺鼻的香味儿。近在咫尺的大教堂的钟声，在家里的大水池上空回响。母亲慌张地问他钻到哪儿去了，人们到处找他，让他去给拉贝拉侯爵的一脉单传的孙子马利亚将军看病，可他下午因脑溢血去世了，钟就是为他敲的。乌尔比诺医生对母亲的话听而不闻， 他先是抓着门框，后来半转身想走到卧室去，却倾盆大雨似的吐I一地茵香酒，一个嘴啃地，人也趴下了。 “我的天哪，”母亲大声喊道，“回家成了这副模样，准是出了什么怪事。” 然而，最奇怪的事情还没出现哩。利用著名的钢琴师罗梅罗?路西奇造访的机会——全城刚刚结束对马利亚将军的哀悼， 他就弹j一组莫扎特的小夜曲——乌尔比诺医生让人把音乐学校的钢琴装上骡车，到费尔米纳的窗下为她弹了一支老掉牙的小夜曲。头几小节响起时，她就醒了，不用从阳台窗帘里探出身子来看，她就知道谁是这种异常的献殷勤的策划者了。她唯一遗憾的是，自己没有那些刁钻泼辣的姑娘们的勇气，没把马桶里的屎尿劈头盖脑地泼在不受欢迎的追求者身上。她的父亲洛伦索?达萨则恰恰相反，小夜曲还在弹奏，他就忙不迭地穿好衣服，曲终时便把乌尔比诺医生和身上还穿着参加音乐会演出的那套礼服的钢琴师请进了客厅，用上等白兰地作为对他们演奏小夜曲的酬劳。 很快，费尔米纳就发觉了，她父亲想打动她的心。就在小夜曲出现的第二天，父亲意味深长地对她说：“你想，要是你母亲知道你被一个乌尔比诺?德?拉卡列家族的人爱上了，她该多高兴啊。”她当即反唇相讥：“她会在棺材里再死一遍。” 跟她一起画画的女友们告诉她，洛伦索?达萨被乌尔比诺医生请到社会俱乐部去吃了一次午饭，而这又因违反规定受到了严厉警告。那时她才知道，她父亲曾经几次申请加入社会俱乐部，每次都因数不清的流言蜚语遭到拒绝，而且已根本不可能再作尝试了。可是，洛伦索?达萨象受气似的咽下了受到的侮辱，依然费尽心机地想同乌尔比诺医生不期而遇，没料到乌尔比话也在处心积虑地谋求同他会面。有时候，他们在书房里一谈就是几个钟头，而这时，家里的一切活动就不管时间的流逝而停止了，因为只要他不走，费尔米纳就不让任何事情照常进行。教区咖啡馆成了理想的避风港。在那里，洛伦索?达萨给乌尔比诺上了象棋的启蒙课，后者呢，是个十分勤奋的学生，直到临终之日，象棋都是他的不能自拔的嗜好。 一天晚上，就是钢琴独奏小夜曲不久后的一天晚上，洛伦索?达萨在家里的接待室发现一封用火漆封口写给女儿的信，火漆上印着胡?乌?卡三个字的花押。他从女儿的闺房走过的时候，把信轻轻从门缝底下塞了进去。她百思不得其解，信是怎么到了那里的，因为她想象不到，她的父亲竟会变得和过去判若两人，居然代追求者传递信件。她把信放在床头柜上好几天没打开。不知道到底该怎么处理。一天下午，雨声阵阵，费尔米纳梦见乌尔比诺又到家里来了，要把用来给她检查过喉咙的那块铝压舌板送给她。梦里的压舌板不是铝的，是另一种她在别的梦里曾津津有味地尝过的一种可口的金属的，于是她把压舌板掰成了二大一小两段，把最小的那段分给了他。 梦醒之后，她打开了信。信简短而字迹工整。”乌尔比诺的唯一要求是请她允许他向她父亲提出拜访她的要求。他的朴素和严肃，使她为之动心，深切的爱把那些在漫长的日子里培育出来的恨，一刹那间平息了。她把信放进箱底的一只旧首饰盒里，但又想起阿里萨那些香气四溢的信也曾放在那儿，突如其来的羞愧使她浑身一震。她把这封信又取了出来，准备换个地方收藏。她又觉得，最正派的做法是若无其事地把信在灯上烧掉，瞅着火漆化成的泡泡变成缕缕蓝色烟雾在火苗上翻腾。 她叹了口气：“可怜的人。”墓地，她意识到这是她在一年多一点的时间里第二次说这句话了，一时又想起了阿里萨，她自己也很吃惊，他被她早就忘在九霄云外了：这个可怜的人。 十月，随着最后那几场雨，又来了王封信，第一封信是跟一小盒弗拉维尼教堂紫罗兰香皂一起送来的。另两封是乌尔比诺医生的车夫送交到她家的大门口的，车夫从车子的窗户里就远远向普拉西迪哑打了个招呼，首先是不容怀疑，信是给她的，其次是让谁也没法说信没收到。此外，两封信都是用画着花押的火漆封着的，字体是龙飞凤舞的隐体字，费尔米纳早已认出这是医生的手笔。两封信的内容跟第一封信都大同小异，字里行间流露着同样的谦恭，但在道貌岸然的背后，已隐隐现出阿里萨那些欲言又止的信里所从来没有过的急不可耐。费尔米纳一收到信就拆开来看，两封信前后相差一周，在行将把信付之一炬的时刻，她又不假思索地改变了主意。 不过，她从来没想过要答复。 十月里的第三封信是从大门底下塞进来的，跟以前的信截然不同。字体歪七扭八，显然是用左手写的，但费尔米纳在看完那封无耻的匿名信之前还没发现这一点。 写这封信的人一口咬定说，费尔米钢用迷魂汤使乌尔比诺医生着了魔，从这个推测里，得出了不怀好意的结论。信的末尾威胁说：如果费尔米纳不放弃依靠那位全市身价最高的男人出人头地的企图，她将会当众出丑。 她觉得她受到了极不公正的伤害，但她的反应不是要进行报复，而是完全相反，她想找到写匿名信的人，用千条万条理由说服他，告诉他，他错了，因为她确信，不管什么时候，不管面对什么威胁利诱，她都不会为乌尔比诺的甜言蜜语所动。在那以后的几天中，她又收到了几封没落款的信，这些信跟前一封一样信口雌黄，但三封中没有一封看来是写前一封信的同三个人写的。也许是她中了计，也许是她那暗中有过的初恋的幻影超出了她能想象的范围。一想到那一切都可能是乌尔比诺的纯属草率鲁莽的行为造成的后果，她就感到坐卧不宁。她想，也许他的为人同他俊逸体面的外貌相去甚远，也许他在看病的时候说的那些话是信口开河，然后又去自作多情地吹嘘，就跟他那个阶层的许许多多纨持子弟一样。她想过要给他写封信，对自己的名誉受到的污蔑进行报复，但随即又打消了这个念头，因为那样做说不定正是他所希望的。她试图通过那些到缝纫室来跟她一起画画的女友了解情况，但她们唯一听到的，是关于那支钢琴独奏小夜曲的轻描淡写的议论。她觉得怒不可遏，又无能为力，满腹委屈。跟最初时的想法相反，她不再想去找到那个不露首尾的敌人，同他争论，她只想用整枝剪刀把他剪个稀巴烂。她彻夜不眠，分析那些匿名信的细节和含义，幻想从中找到一丝一毫的安慰。那是空劳神思的幻想：费尔米纳从本质上说，同乌尔比诺?德?拉卡列一家的内心世界是格格不入的，她只能防御明枪，无法抵挡暗箭。 这个信念，经过黑洋娃娃那场惊吓之后变得更加惨痛了。黑洋娃娃也是在那些日子里给她送去的，没附带任何信件，但她不费吹灰之力就想到了它的来源：只有乌尔比诺医生才会给她送这个玩意儿。从商标上看，那是在马蒂尼卡岛买的，洋娃娃的衣服精美绝伦，卷曲的头发是用金丝做的，放倒的时候，它的眼睛会闭上。费尔米纳觉得好玩极了，放松了戒备，白天让它躺在枕头上。晚上搂着它睡觉，习以为常。然而过了一段时间之后，有一次当她从一个令人筋疲力尽的梦里醒过来时，发现洋娃娃越来越大了：原来穿的那件华美的衣服已经遮不住它的屁股，脚把鞋子也撑破了。费尔米纳曾经听说过非洲妖术的故事，但都没有象这样令人毛骨悚然。 另外，她不敢相信，象乌尔比诺这么个有头面的人，居然也会干出这种事情来。对的，洋娃娃不是那个车夫，而是一个偶然上11兜售对虾的人送来的，他的来历谁也说不清楚。为了解开这个谜，费尔米纳一度想到了阿里萨，他的忧郁的气质曾使她不寒而栗，但后来她才明白，她想错了。这个谜始终是个谜，直到她结婚很久之后，生儿育女，并终于相信命运的选择是最幸福的选择以后，只要一念及此，她还是吓得浑身发抖。 乌尔比诺医生的最后一次努力是敦请拉鲁丝媲嫣说项。她是圣母献瞻节学校的校长，对来自一个从这个学校在美洲建立以来就惠予照顾的家庭的请求，她无法拒绝。她由一个新入教的修女陪同，在上午九点钟光临。费尔米纳还没洗完澡，她们不得不返鸟笼里的鸟儿玩了半个钟头。她是个具有男子气质的德国女人，声如洪钟，目光犀利，跟她对孩子的爱怜似乎风马牛不相及。世界上费尔米纳最痛恨的，莫过于她和一切同她有关的事了，只要一回想起她的伪善，她就觉得象吃了蝎子那么恶心。从浴室门口一认出她来，费尔米纳一下就想起了在学校里挨过的体罚，每天做弥撒时难熬的瞌睡，令人心凉肉跳的考试，新人教的媛惊的奴颜婢膝，和那因精神空虚而形成的死水一潭的生活。然而，拉鲁丝惊塘却带着仿佛是发自内心的喜悦向她打招呼。慷惊惊奇地发现，费尔米纳长大而且成熟多了，她称赞说，家里布置得井井有条，庭院是色治人，拘椽花红得跟火似的。她命令新娘偏在那里等她，别太靠近秃骛，说一不小心它们就会把她的眼珠啄出来，然后说想找个僻静的地方坐下来同费尔米纳单独谈谈。后者请她到客厅去。 访问是短暂而不愉快的。拉鲁丝偏爆没有浪费时间去寒暄就对费尔米纳说，她可以体面地复学。被开除的原因，不但可以从档案中而且可以从大家的记忆里一笔勾销。这样一来，她就可以学完课程并获得文学学上的文凭。费尔米纳如坠五里雾中，询问这是从何谈起。 “这是某位有求必应的人的要求，他的唯一希望是让你幸福。” 修女说，“你知道他是谁吗？” 她明白了。她想，这个因一封无辜的信而毁了她的生活的女人有什么权利来充当媒人呢？但她没敢说出口。她只是说，是的，她认识这个人，因此也知道他没有任何权利来干涉她的生活。 “他唯一的请求，是请你同意跟他谈五分钟。”修女说，“我确信，你父亲是会同意的。” 想到父亲可能是安排这次访问的同谋，她更加生气了。 “我生病的时候跟他见过两次面。”她说，“现在没有任何必要。” “不管是多么挑剔的姑娘，都会认为这是圣母的赐福。”修女说。 修女继续列举他的美德，他的虔诚，他的救死扶伤的献身精神，边说边从袖子里掏出一串中间挂着用象牙雕刻的基督的金念珠，在费尔米纳眼前晃了晃。那是家传圣物，有一百多年历史，是由西也纳一位金银匠雕成而且受过克莱门蒂四世②祝福的。 “这是给你的。”修文说。 费尔米纳觉得血往上涌，忍无可忍了。 “我不明白您干吗会于这种事，”她说，您难道不认为爱情是罪恶吗？ " 拉鲁丝惊媛假装对这种侮辱毫不在意，但她的眼睛里进出了火星。她继续在费尔米纳眼前晃着那串念珠。 “你最好还是同我好说好商量，”她说，“因为我如果说不通，主教大人就会来，跟他谈，情形就不一样了。” “请他来吧。”费尔米纳说。 拉鲁丝姆惊把金念珠藏进了袖口，然后从另一只袖口里掏出一块很旧的揉成一团的手绢，紧紧地握在手里，带着一副悲天悯人的笑容从远处看着费尔米纳。 “可怜的孩子，”她叹了口气说，“你还在想着那个人。” 费尔米纳目不转睛地看着修女，咽下了一句不该是姑娘家说的话。看见修女那两只象男人般的眼睛里噙着泪水，她觉得无比痛快。拉鲁丝惊偏用手绢团擦干泪水，站了起来。 “你父亲说你是头倔驴，真是一点不错。”她说。 主教并没有去。如果不是因为伊尔德布兰达来跟表妹一起过圣诞节。两人的生活都发生了变化，对她的纠缠到那天为止就算结束了。清晨五点，他们到发自里约阿查那条船上去接她，一大群乱糟糟的旅客，因旱船而显得困倦萎顿，但她却春风满面地下了船，带着鲜明的女性的妩媚。一夜风浪，使她还是显得有些紧张。她带来了装着她家富饶的农场里出产的火鸡和各种水果的大筐小兜，以使在她做客期间谁也短不了吃的。她父亲利西马科?桑切斯要好带个口信，复活节时候如果缺少乐师，他可以把最高明的乐师请来，还答应过些日子运一批焰火给他们。此外他还说，在三月以前他不可能把女儿接回去，她尽可呆在那儿玩个够。 表姐妹俩一见面就过上了圣诞节。从第一个下午起，她们就一起人泪。裸体相对，用浴池里的水作为圣水互行洗礼。她们互相擦服皂，捉虱子，比臀部，比结实的乳峰，把对方当做镜子，检查自从上一次大家脱去衣服互相观摩以来，时光毫不留情地在各自身上留下了什么痕迹。伊尔德布兰达富态丰腴，橘黄色的皮肤，全身长着混血姑娘型的毛发，短而卷曲，跟金属细丝绒似的。费尔米纳则相反，苗条颀长，皮肤鲜润，毛发平垂。普拉西迪妞吩咐在卧室里摆上了两张同样的床，但有时她们躲在同一张床上，灭灯后一直谈到天明。她们还抽上几支拦路强盗抽的那种细枝雪茄，那是伊尔德布兰达藏在箱子的衬里中带来的，然后烧几张阿尔梅尼亚纸，以消除卧室里雪茄烟留下的霉味儿。费尔米纳第一次抽烟是在瓦列杜帕尔镇，后来在丰塞卡，在里约阿查也继续抽。在里约阿查的时候，十来个表姐妹反锁在一间房子里，谈论男人，偷偷抽烟。她学会倒着吸烟，把点火的那一头搁在嘴里，就跟战场上男子汉们为了防止香烟的闪光暴露自己一样，但她孤身独处时从不抽烟。跟伊尔德布兰达一起住在自己家里的那些日子里，她每天晚上睡觉前都抽烟，打那时起，她就学会抽烟了，但始终是背着人抽，连丈夫和儿女们也背着，这不仅因为女人在别人面前抽烟不太雅观，而且也因为她以偷偷油烟为乐。 伊尔德布兰达这次旅行，从她父母来说，本是为了让她淡忘那桩门不当户不对的爱情，但他们却对她说，是要她去帮助费尔米纳拿个大主意，她也信以为真了。 伊尔德布兰达是带着嘲弄忘却的幻想——同她表妹过去的做法一样——听从父母之命的，她跟丰塞卡那个电报员商量妥了，让他秘密地把消息传递给她。因此，当她知道费尔米纳已经和阿里萨吹了的时候，她痛心极了。另外，伊尔德布兰达认为爱情是人同此心、心同此理的，觉得发生在一个人身上的任何事情，都会影响普天之下所有的爱情。不过，她并未放弃原来的计划。她以使费尔米纳瞠目结舌的大无畏勇气，独自一人到电报局去了，她要让阿里萨帮她的忙。 她没认出阿里萨，因为他长得和费尔米纳说的完全不同。乍见之下，她觉得表妹曾经为这个貌不惊人的小职员而神魂颠倒简直令人难以置信，他的气质就跟挨了打的狗似的，那身落难犹太教士的打扮和一本正经的模样，任何人也不会动心的。 但是她很快又推翻了最初的印象，因为阿里萨虽不知道她是何许人，却愿意无条件地为她效劳，他到底也没弄清她是谁。谁也比不上他那么通情达理，既没让她报上尊姓大名，也没向她要地址。他的办法很简单：她每个礼拜三下午到电报局之地树引环强境李里，一如此而已。他看完伊尔德市工送带去的那张写好的电报纸后，问她能不能接受他的建议作点修改，她同意了。阿里萨又涂又写，最后干脆把那张纸撕了，重新写了一封信，她觉得他动人极了。走出电报局时，伊尔德布兰达的眼泪差点儿夺眶而出。 “他其貌不扬而又可怜巴巴的，”她对费尔米纳说，“但可爱极了。” 最引起伊尔德布兰达注意的，是表妹的寂寞。她对表妹说，你就跟二十岁的老处女似的。她在一个人数众多而分散的家庭里生活惯了，在这种家庭里，谁也搞不准到底有多少人，每顿饭又有谁去吃。伊尔德布兰达无法想象，一个处在表妹这样年华的姑娘，被关在私生活的小天地里不越雷池半步，该是多么难受。从早上六点钟起床开始，到晚上熄灯就寝为止，都在消磨时光，天天如此。生活，从外部强加给她。首先，鸡叫最后一遍的时候，送牛奶的男人就拍响大门的门环把她叫醒。然后，就该是那个卖鱼的女人了，她肩扛一个用海藻垫底、装着奄奄待毙的棘镇鱼的箱子，手提几只盛着马利亚啦巴哈产的蔬菜和圣贻辛托产的水果的精美的篮子。再以后，整日有人敲门，什么样的人都有：叫化子、招揽摸彩赌博的姑娘、募捐的修女、吹着芦笛的磨刀匠。收购瓶子的。收购碎金子的、收购报纸的、假扮成吉卜赛女人用纸牌算命的、或看手相的、或看咖啡剩渣和小盆里的水算命的。普拉西迪哑整周就是打开大门又关上，嘴里说着“不要”，“改天再来吧”，要不就在阳台上气息败坏地吼叫：“别再烦了，他妈的，该买的我们都已经买过了。”她以极大的热忱乐颠颠地取代了埃斯科拉斯蒂卡姑妈，费尔米纳都把她当姑妈甚至喜欢她了。 她当奴隶简直成了撤好。只要一有点儿空，她就到工作间去熨烫白罩单，把它叠得整整齐齐，放进装有黛衣草花的柜橱里，她不＿仅熨烫和折叠刚刚洗过的，还把那些因久放不用而褪了色的也又烫又叠。她还同样小心翼翼地经管着费尔米纳?桑切斯——费尔米纳的母亲，死去已经十四年——的衣服。不过，拿主意的是费尔米纳。 她吩咐该吃什么，该买什么，每件事情该这么办，该那么办，她就这样主宰着实际上没什么可主宰的全家的生活。每当她洗刷完鸟笼并给鸟儿喂过食，两弄过花草之后，她就不知道该干什么了。她被学校开除以后，有好多回，午觉一直睡到第二天。 图画课，只不过是消磨时间的一种方式而已。自从埃斯科拉蒂斯卡姑妈出走以后，她同父亲的关系就冷淡了下来，虽然双方都已经找到了相安无事地生活的办法。她起床的时候，他已经出去干他的事去了。他很少不回家履行吃午饭的礼节，虽然几乎从来不吃，因为教区咖啡馆里的开胃酒和点心就把他填饱了。他也不吃晚饭，他们把他那一份留在饭桌上，盛在一个盘子里，用另一个盘子扣起来，尽管谁都知道他不会去吃，放到第二天早饭时热好再端出来也还是不吃。他每周交一次钱给女儿，用做开支，这笔钱他计算得很精确，她也抠得很紧，不过她向他提出任何不时之需时他都乐意照给。他从来不说少给她一个子儿，也从来不查帐，但她却搞得一清二楚，就跟要向宗教裁判所的法庭报帐似的。他从来不向她谈他的生意的性质和状况，也从来没带她到港口的办公室去过，办公室设在正派姑娘不宜露面的地区，就是由父母陪着也不行。洛伦索?达萨晚上十点以前是不会回家的。十点，是战争不那么激烈时期的宵禁时间。他在教区咖啡馆里一直呆到那个时间，见到什么玩什么，他对各种室内游戏都在行，而且精通。他回家时总是轻手轻脚的，不吵醒女儿。每天他一醒就喝下第一杯茵香酒，嘴里整天嚼着熄灭了的卷烟屁股，时不时再来上一杯。 一天晚上，费尔米纳觉得父亲回来了，她听见楼梯上响起了他那哥萨克脚步声，二楼的过道上传来了沉重的喘息声，卧室的门上响起了他用手掌拍门的声音。接着，她给他开了门，第一次惊恐地发现，父亲的眼睛扭歪了，说话也磕磕巴巴的。 “我们完了。”他说，“全完了，你就会知道的。” 总共就说了那么句话，以后再也没提起过，也没发生任何证明他说了实话的迹象。但那天晚上以后，费尔米纳就明白了，她在世界上举目无亲。她生活在社会真空里。学校里的老同学生活在对她来说是禁地的天堂里。她蒙受被开除的羞辱之后就更加如此了，邻居们也不正眼瞧她，因为他们对她的事知道得一清二楚，而且是看着她穿着圣母献瞻书学校的校服长大的。同父亲打交道的都是商人和码头工人，教区咖啡馆这个庇护所里面的逃兵，独身的男人。在最后这一年里，图画课多少减轻了一点她的囚居生活的寂寞，那位女教师喜欢上集体课，常常把其他女学生带到她的缝纫室来。但那些女学生的社会条件千差万别，教养欠佳，对费尔米纳来说，她们只不过是些萍水相逢的朋友，每堂课一结束，感情也就结束了。伊尔德布兰达想敞开那个家的大门，给它透透气，把父亲的乐师、鞭炮和焰火架弄来，搞一次狂欢舞会，让大风把表妹的死气沉沉的精神状态一扫而光，然而她很快就发现，这些想法是徒劳的，原因很简单：找不到人。