Chapter 33 Chapter Nineteen (Part 2)

If she is interested!Desdemona!Playing Desdemona in London!And with Mark Simpson as Othello!This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.Her emotions soared to the point where the Lane story was meaningless, or rather gave an excuse that she could keep Lane's love; a hugely popular actress was too busy to have much time for her. Lovers live together.It's worth a try.If he showed signs of seeing her for what she was, she could always back away.To keep Rain in her life, especially this new Rain, she had to be prepared to do everything but pull off the mask. In the meantime, news like this should be celebrated in some way.But she still didn't feel that she could face Ryan, but there was no one else around to share her joy.So she put on her shoes, went to the corridor, and walked to the common sitting room of her uncles. When Patsy let her in, she stood there with her arms outstretched and her face beaming with joy.

"Crack the beer, I'm going to play Desdemona!" she announced in a singing voice. There was no one to speak to for a while, and then Bob said warmly, "That's great, Justine." Her joy did not disappear; it turned into an uncontrollable exaltation.She laughed and sat down in the chair, looking at her uncle.What lovely people they are!Of course her news meant nothing to them!They had no idea who Desdemona was.If she had told them she was getting married, Bob's answer would have been the same. They'd been a part of her life for as long as she could remember, but sadly, as proudly as she was of everything Drogheda, they'd never taken them to heart.The uncles, an alien bunch, smiled at her shyly and preferred to avoid her if meeting meant talking.It wasn't that they didn't like her, she understood now; it was just that they found her an oddity and it made them uneasy.But in Rome, a world so foreign to them and so familiar to her, she began to understand them better.

Justine felt a feeling of love that could be called love in them, and she looked at each wrinkled, smiling face one by one.Bob was the lifeblood of the group, the leader of Drogheda, but he was so humble; Jack seemed to just follow Bob around, which may be why we got along so well together; Mischievous traits that don't exist, yet are so similar to them; Jens and Patsy are the opposites of a self-satisfied whole; poor and aloof Frank seems to be the only one who has ever been tortured by fear and danger.With the exception of Jens and Patsy, they were all grizzled now.It was true that Bob and Frank had gray hair, but in reality they looked the same as she remembered them as a little girl.

"I don't know if I should give you a beer," Bob said hesitantly, standing there with a cold bottle of Swan in his hand. This would have irritated her a long time ago, but now she was too happy to be offended. "Look honey, I know it never occurred to you to give me a bottle when we got together with Ryan, but, honestly, I'm a big girl now and I can handle a bottle of beer. I promise it's not A sin," she said with a smile. "Where's Rainer?" Jens asked, taking a full glass from Bob and handing it to her. "I had a fight with him." "With Rainer?"

"Well, yes, but it's all my fault. I'll meet him later and tell him I'm sorry." Uncles don't smoke.Although she had never asked for a beer before, earlier, when they chatted with Rain, she had occasionally sat there defiantly smoking a cigarette; now, she was more courageous than showing her cigarette .So, she was pretty happy with herself for her little victory over beer.She was very thirsty and wanted desperately to gulp down the beer, but she had to pay attention to their dubious stares.Justine sips like a woman, though she's more parched than a chattering junkman.

"That guy Ryan is great," Hughie said with a twinkle in his eyes. Justine was taken aback, suddenly realizing why she had become so important to them: She had caught a man they were willing to take into their home. "Yeah, he's a nice guy." She said briefly, changing the subject. "It's a nice day, isn't it?" Everyone nodded, even Frank, but none of them seemed to want to talk about it.She could see how tired they were, but she didn't regret her impulsive visit.It took a long time for their almost atrophied senses and sensations to recover to normal functions. Uncles are a good target for practice.This predicament is like being alone on an island; anything that happened off shore has been forgotten.

"What is Desdemona?" Frank asked from the shadows. Justine told it vividly, and when they learned that she would be strangled once a night, she was so fascinated by the horror on their faces that she didn't think of them until an hour and a half later, when Patsy yawned. How tired. ①Refers to the plot in the play "Othello", where Othello strangles his wife Desdemona to death. -- Annotation "I have to go," she said, putting down her empty glass.They didn't refill her second glass of wine; obviously one has to be modest with women. "Thank you for listening to my nonsense."

To Bob's great surprise and dismay, she kissed him good night; Jack tried to slip away, but was easily caught by her, and Hughie gladly accepted the kiss.Jens blushed and accepted the kiss awkwardly and painfully.For Patsy, hugging was the same as kissing, because he was a bit like the island himself.She didn't kiss Frank, he pushed his head away; yet, when she put her arms around him, she could feel the faint resonance of a strong emotion that no one else had.Poor Frank.Why is he like that? Outside their door, she leaned against the wall for a moment.Ryan loves her.But when she tried to call his room, the operator told her he had already paid his bill and was going back to Bonn.

It doesn't matter.Regardless of it, it might be better to wait to see him in London.Write him a contrite apology, and treat him to dinner the next time he's in London.There were many things she didn't know about Ryan, but there was one feature she was absolutely sure of: he would come because he was a man without rancor.Since foreign affairs became his priority, England was the place he visited most regularly. "Just wait and see, my partner," she said, gazing at her own reflection in the mirror, and she saw his face instead of hers. "I must make Britain the most important place in your foreign affairs, or I will not be called Justine O'Neill."

It didn't occur to her that perhaps her name was indeed the most important thing that Ryan cared about.Her course of action was settled, but marriage was not included in it.It didn't even occur to her that Lane might want this to end with her being Justine Hasson.She hastened to recall the peculiarities of his kisses, and wished for more of them. Only one thing remained to be done, Dane had to be informed that she couldn't go to Greece with him: but it didn't bother her.Dane would understand, he always understood.It was just that somehow she didn't want to tell him all the reasons why she couldn't go.As much as she loved her brother, she felt herself loath to be taught some of his harshest lectures.He wanted her to marry Ryan, so if he told him her plan about Ryan, even if it was a forced hijacking, he would personally drive her to Greece.Dane was out of his mind when he didn't hear it.

"Dear Ryan," the note read. "I ran away like a rude goat that night. I'm sorry, don't think I thought of anything. I think it's because of the noise that day. Please forgive me for behaving like a complete fool that day. I'm sorry to myself I'm ashamed to make such a fuss about such a small thing. I dare say you were stupid enough to say something about love that day. So please forgive me and I will forgive you. Let's be friends Come on. I can't bear to be at odds with you in our intercourse. Next time you're in London, please come and dine with me, and we'll formalize a peace treaty." As usual, the note was simply signed "Justine".There weren't even words for emotion; she never used them.He frowned and studied these innocent and casual words, through which he seemed to be able to see what was really going on in her mind as she wrote.This is of course an unsolicited gesture of friendliness, but what else?He sighed and had to admit little else meant.He frightened her; her desire to keep his friendship showed how much he meant to her, but he was very concerned about whether she understood exactly her own feelings for him.She wanted to know now that he loved her; if she had cleared her mind enough to realize that she loved him too, she would have said so directly in her letters.Yet why had she returned to London instead of accompanying Dane to Greece?He knew that, because of Dane, he should not expect her to return to London.But despite his uneasiness, a cheerful ray of hope rose in his heart; he called his secretary.It's 10am GMT, the perfect time to find her at home. "Please pick up Miss O'Neill's apartment in London." He instructed, frowning, waiting for a few seconds for the intermediate connection. "Rain!" Justine said, obviously pleased. "Did you get my letter?" "Just received it." After a short pause, she said. "Are you coming to dinner soon?" "I'm going to London this Friday and Saturday. Was the announcement too hasty?" "If I'm with you on Saturday night, I'm not in a hurry. I'm rehearsing for Desdemona, so I don't have time on Friday." "Desdemona?" "Yeah, you didn't know that! Clyde wrote to me in Rome and offered me the part. Mark Simpson in Othello. Clyde directed it himself. Isn't it wonderful? I took the first The flight is back to London." He covered his eyes with his hands, thankfully his secretary was sitting outside in the office, not where the personal component could see his face. "Justine, girl, that's great news!" he said with effort and enthusiasm. "I'm just wondering what made you go back to London." "Oh, Dane understands," she said lightly. "In a way, I think he'd be happy to be alone. He's made up a story that requires me to force him home, but I don't think that It's just his secondary reason; he doesn't want me to feel that now that he's a priest, he's excluding me from his life." "Maybe." He agreed politely. "Let's make it Saturday night," she said. "Around six o'clock, then we can take our time with a peace treaty meeting with the help of a beer or two. I'll feed you after we've reached a satisfactory settlement. Okay ?" "Of course. Goodbye!" With the sound of her putting down the microphone, the connection was cut off abruptly; he still held the microphone in his hand, sat for a while, then shrugged and put the microphone back on the stand.Damn Justine!She was getting caught between him and his work again. In the days that followed, she continued to be caught between him and his work.On Saturday night, just after six o'clock, he arrived at her room, as usual: he was empty-handed, because she was a difficult person when it came to presents.She was not interested in flowers, never ate sweets, would throw a rather expensive gift carelessly into a corner and forget about it.It seemed that Justine only valued those gifts that Dane gave her. "Is there champagne before dinner?" he asked, looking at her in surprise. "Oh, I guess the occasion calls for it, doesn't it? That was our first breakup in our relationship, and this is our first reconciliation," she answered articulately, pointing to him. Get a comfortable chair.She sat herself down on a tan kangaroo rug, her lips parted, as if she had practiced responding to anything he might say. But he wasn't about to talk, at least not until he could get a better sense of her mood.So he looked at her without saying a word.Before he kissed her last time.It was easy to maintain a certain indifference: but now, seeing her for the first time since then, he admitted that things would be much more difficult in the future. Perhaps, even as an old woman, there was still something rather immature in her face and manner, though the basic femininity of her was always overlooked.The cool, self-centered, logical mind seemed to have complete control over her; yet she had such a fascination with him that he doubted that he could have replaced her with any other woman.Never once did he question whether she was worth such a long struggle.Perhaps from a philosophical point of view, she doesn't deserve it.Is this something important?Yes, she was a worthy goal, a desirable one. "You look very pretty tonight, girl," he said finally, tilting him and the champagne glass at her in a gesture that was half toasting, half knowing that he had met a match. A fire burned naked in a small Victorian stove, but Justine paid no attention to the heat, curled up next to it, and kept her eyes on him.Then, she put her cup on the stove, and it made a crisp sound.She sat forward, her arms folded over her knees, her bare feet hidden under the fringe of her dark robe. "I can't stand insinuations;" she said. "Is that what you mean, Ryan?" He suddenly relaxed deeply and leaned back on the chair. "What's the meaning?" "What you said in Rome...is that you love me." "Is that all, my dear girl?" She looked away, shrugged, turned back to him, and nodded. "Well, of course." "But why bring this up again? You have already told me your thoughts. I thought that the reception tonight would not involve the past, but just arrange the future." "Oh, Rain! You're acting like I'm making a fuss! Even if I were, you'd know why." "No, I don't understand." He put down his glass and bent forward to look at her more closely. "You have made me feel so strongly that you don't need my love, and I had hoped you would at least respectably refrain from talking about it." It had never occurred to her that this meeting—whatever it might turn out—would be so unpleasant; after all, he had been in the position of supplicant, and should have humbly waited for her to completely change her mind.However, he seems to have deftly turned the tables.Here, she feels like a mischievous schoolgirl called in to answer some silly prank. "Look, boy, you're the one who's changing the situation, not me! You're here tonight, and I'm not begging forgiveness for hurting the ego of the great Hasim!" "Should I be on the defensive, Justine?" She twisted impatiently. "Yeah, damn it! How could you manage to do this to me, Rain? Oh, I wish you'd give me the upper hand just once!" "You'll throw me out like a stinking old sock if I do that," he said, smiling. "But I can still throw you out, man!" "Bullshit! If you haven't done that by now, you never will. You'll go on liking me because I fascinate you—you never know what you'll get from me." "Is that why you say you love me?" she asked bitterly. "Is that just a trick to fascinate me?" "What do you think it is?" "I think you're a great badass!" she said through her teeth, kneeling forward through the rug until she was close enough for him to fully appreciate her anger. "Say you love me again, you big German fool, you always despise me!" He is also on fire. "No, I won't say it again! That's not why you asked me to come, is it? I don't have any feelings for you, Justine. You asked me to test your feelings, and you don't Didn't think about whether it was fair to me." Before she could move away, he leaned forward, grabbed her shoulders, and clamped her body between his legs, holding her firmly.Her anger vanished in a flash; she put her palms flat on his lap and turned her face up.But he didn't kiss her.He let go of her arm, leaned over to turn off the light behind him, and then let go of her, resting his head on the chair, so that she couldn't be sure that he had darkened the room and left only coal. The glimmer of fire, is it to take the first step in his courtship, or is it just to cover up his expression.Hesitating, afraid of total rejection, she waited for him to tell her what to do.She should have understood earlier that she shouldn't get angry at someone like Ryan.They sat there motionless and stupefied why couldn't she put her head on his lap and say: Love me, Ryan, I need you so much, I'm so humbled?Oh, sure if she could get him to woo her, some kind of emotional key would turn, and then the emotion would burst out, unleash... Still leaning back, indifferent, he followed her to take off his jacket and tie, but when she began to unbutton his shirt, she knew she couldn't unbutton it.She is not good at the technique of stimulating people's instinctive love.This skill is so important, and she made a mess of it.Her fingers were trembling; she pursed her mouth, and tears welled up. "Oh, don't! My sweet girl, darling, don't cry!" He drew her into his lap, turned her head to his shoulders, and put his arms around her. "I'm sorry, girl, I didn't mean to make you cry." "Now you know," she said through a sob. "I'm so bad at this; I told you it wouldn't work! Rain, I'd love so much to keep you, but I know it won't work if you know what a wretch I am!" " "Yes, of course it doesn't work. How can it work? Because I'm not helping you, girl." He pulled her hair, pulled her head close to his face, and kissed her eyes God, wet cheeks and mouth corners. "It's my fault, girl, not yours. I was trying to get back at you, to see how far you could go without encouragement. But, I guess I misunderstood your motives, didn't I, Darling?" His voice was now thicker and more German. "I said, if that's what you want, then that's what we both want." "Please, Ren, let's give up this kind of thing! I don't have this ability, I will only let you down!" "Oh, you have, girl, I've seen it on stage. How can you doubt yourself when you're with me?" This is so true, her tears are gone. "Kiss me like you did in Rome," she murmured. But his kisses were totally different from those in Rome.That kiss was a little strange, startling, and full of emotional outbursts: this time it was extremely gentle and deep, an opportunity to taste, smell, and empathize; entangled and hugged fell there, reaching A state of sensuality and comfort is created.Her fingers were on his buttons again, and his fingers were on the zipper of her dress; then, with his hand on hers, he slid her hand into his shirt, slipped past his skin covered with fine, soft fur.The sudden tightening of his mouth against her throat made her faintly feel that he had a very strong and uncontrollable reaction, even though she was also paralyzed and found that she couldn't control herself.She was lying flat on the smooth leather blanket, with Rain looming above her.His shirt was off, and maybe something else, she couldn't see, only the firelight glancing over his shoulders above hers and his beautiful, determined mouth.She decided to break the shackles on this matter from beginning to end this time, she inserted her fingers into his hair tightly, and asked him to kiss her again, more tightly, more firmly! This is how he feels!It was like being at home so familiar, she could identify every part of him with her lips, her hands and her body, yet so unbelievably so foreign.As the world sank into the little hearth that glowed in the dark, she revealed herself to him as he wished, and learned something that had been true to him since she knew him. Something to cover up; he must have had sex with her a thousand times in his own imagination.Her own experience and newfound intuition told her so.She has been completely disarmed.With any other man, this intrigue and surprising sensuality would have horrified her, but he forced her to understand that only she had a right to these things.And she does have it.Her arms were so hard around him that she could feel the contours of his bones before she finally cried and begged him to come. The climactic moment passed, and there was a satisfying stillness all around.They entered a slow and comfortable state of breathing in the same rhythm.His head rested on her shoulder, her legs resting on his.Her tight embrace of him gradually loosened into a gentle, repeated caress.He sighed, turned over, and changed his lying position, unknowingly drawing her into the joy of being with him even more.She put her palm on his side, feeling his tissue.She ran her hand over the warm muscle, pressed it against his soft, hairy groin, felt the wonderfully vibrant, uninhibited movement in the palm; Novelty.Her former lovers had never been interested in her wanting to fully perpetuate her sexual curiosity in this languid and undemanding aftermath.Suddenly, however, the aftermath wasn't exhausting and undemanding at all, but so agitated that she wanted to have him all over again. She was caught unexpectedly again, as his arms slid across her back and took her head in both hands, drawing her close and she saw his lips; lips quivering for her So, only she can get it.There was indeed a tender and humble feeling in her heart at this moment.The emotion must have shown on his face.Because he was staring at her, those eyes became so bright that she couldn't bear it.She bent over and put her lips on his.Thoughts and feelings passed away at last, but her weeping was soundless, breathless, a moan of indescribable joy: she trembled so violently that nothing but impulse and unconsciousness dominated every Except for a moment of urgency, she was unaware of anything.The world has shrunk to its minimum, shrunk into itself, disappeared completely. Rainer must have added more wood to keep the fire going, for the house was still warm when the soft London daylight poured in through the creases in the curtains.This time, Justine noticed when he moved a little, and she grabbed his arm in terror. "Don't go!" "I'm not going, good girl." He pulled another pillow off the couch, pushed it under his head, moved her closer to his ribs, and sighed softly. "OK?" "it is good." "are you cold?" "Not cold, but if you are cold we can go to bed." "After hours of making love to you on a leather rug? What luck! Even if your sheets are black silk." "They're plain old white sheets, cotton. That's a nice little Drogheda thing, isn't it?" "A little piece of Drogheda?" "That's the rug! It's made of Drogheda kangaroo skin," she explained. "Hardly exotic or sexually appealing. I'll order you a tiger skin from India." "It reminds me of a poem I once heard: are you willing to be with Eleanor Green in Tiger Skin Fall into sin? still willing to be with her on another leather Go astray? " "Oh, my girl, I must say: it's time for you to get back to your old self. Between Eros and Morpheus, you were not so rude for half a day," he said, smiling. ① The god of love in Greek mythology. -- Annotation ②The god of sleep in Greek mythology. -- Annotation "I don't think I need it at the moment," she said with a smile back, placing his hand comfortably between her legs. "The doggerel about the tiger's skin was blurted out, because it was so well written that one couldn't help but read it. But I'm all yours already, so there's not much point in being careless, yes. Is it?" She straightened up, and suddenly she could faintly smell a stale fish smell in the air. "My God, you haven't eaten anything, and it's time to eat! I can't expect you to live on love!" "Anyway, if you think it necessary to show love so passionately, I can do it." "Look at your nonsense! You live every moment of love." "That's right." He sighed, stretched, and yawned. "I don't know if you can appreciate how happy I am." "Oh, I guess so," she said quickly. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at her. "Tell me, is Desdemona your only reason for returning to London?" She grabbed his ear all of a sudden and twisted it hard. "Now it's my turn to get revenge on your high school principal questions! What do you think?" He opened her fingers effortlessly and grinned. "My dear girl, if you don't answer a question, I'll hold you back longer than Mark." "I went back to London to play Desdemona, but also because of you. Since you kissed me in Rome, I couldn't foresee my life rightly myself, you know that very well, you are a very wise man. Man, Rainer Maureen Hasson." "Smart enough to know that I wanted you as my wife the first time I saw you," he said. She sat up quickly. "wife?" "Wife. If I wanted you to be my mistress, I got you years ago, and I can do it. I know how your head works; it's relatively easy to do that. The only thing I don't The reason for this is because I want you to be my wife, and I already knew you were not ready to accept the idea of ​​having a husband." "I don't know what I'm thinking right now." She tolerated his remark. He stood up, pulled her up, and stood against him. "Oh, you get me some breakfast, and practice a little. If this were my home, I'd have the honor, but in your kitchen, you're the cook." "I don't mind making you breakfast this morning, but, inferentially, am I going to take on this responsibility until the day I die?" She shook her head. "I guess I'm not interested in that, Ryan." He put on the face of the Roman emperor again.The threat of defiance was haughty yet unflappable. "Justine, this is no joke, and I'm not one to mock. There's still plenty of time. You know full well. I'll be patient. But get that thought out of your head completely. Come on, don't think you can do anything but get married. I don't want me to think that I'm not important enough to you as a husband." "I can't give up acting!" she snapped. "Damn elm head, do I want you to give up? Be more mature, Justine! Who's going to think I'm going to declare you a lifelong slave labor around sinks and stoves! You know, we're not at all Poor people on handouts. You can have as many servants as you want, babysitters for the kids and whatever is necessary." "Yo!" said Justine, who hadn't thought of the baby yet. He threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, girl, that's what you've realized after getting revenge this morning! I know I'm no fool to bring up the realities so quickly, but at this stage all you have to do is think about them. Though I have given you fair warning—and you are making your own decisions—please remember, if I cannot make you my wife, I shall not have you at all." She threw her arms around him, pressing against him. "Oh, Ryan, don't be so callous!" she cried. Dane drove his "Lagenda" car alone on the boot-shaped Italian land, passing through Birugia, Florence, Bologa, Florence, Padua, going north, and finally bypassing Venice, Overnight in Durst.It was one of his favorite cities so that he could cross the mountain road to Ljubljana.Spend two more days on the Adriatic coast before spending the night in Zagreb.Through the valley of the Grand Sava, full of blue chicory flowers, to Buigard, and from there to Nice for the night.The Macedonian region and Skopje are still dumped rubble, thanks to an earthquake two years ago; the mosques and minarets of the Islamic Guild in the resort city of Titovills give the city a quaint Turkish flavor.All the way through Yugoslavia, he ate so frugally that he was ashamed to sit with a large plate of bread in front of him when the people of the country were content with bread. ① A city in the northwestern part of Yugoslavia. -- Annotation ② A city in Yugoslavia. -- Annotation ③French cities. -- Annotation The Greek frontier is at Evzona, and beyond it is the port city of Thessaloniki.The Italian newspapers were full of news of a brewing revolution in Greece; he stood at the window of his hotel, watching the thousands of torches streamed in rows through the night in Thessaloniki, and he regretted that Justine hadn't come. feel happy. "Pa-Pan-de-Ri-O! Pa-Pan-De-Ri-O!" roared and sang, and mingled with the torches, the bustling crowd continued well after midnight. ① Papandreou (1888-?) was a Greek politician, chairman of the "All Greek Liberation Movement", and a former Prime Minister of Greece. -- Annotation But the revolution was confined to the cities, where life was dense and miserable; the devastated Thessaloniki countryside must still have looked the same as it had in the days of Caesar's legions.Shepherds sleep in the shade of leather tents, cranes stand on one leg in their nests atop small, old, white buildings; there is terrible barrenness everywhere.The high, clear sky reminded him of the brown, treeless moors of Australia.He took deep breaths of its air; the thought of going home brought a smile to his face.After he talked to Ma, she would understand. After crossing Larisa, he came to the beach, stopped the car, and walked out.The deep purple sea like home, the coast is a soft and clear blue-green; when it extends to the curved horizon, the sea water becomes a grape-like deep purple.Below him, on the far grass, stood a small temple with columns, dazzlingly white in the sun.Behind him, on the high hills of the mountains, stands a weather-beaten, scowl-faced Crusader fortress.You are so beautiful, Greece, more beautiful than Italy, though I love Italy.However, it will always be the birthplace of culture. With plans to go to Athens, he pressed on, cranking up the gas in the red car, zigzagging up the Domojos fortress, and driving down the other side into the Poiote Mountains.In front of me was a charming olive grove and blushing, high and low hillsides.However, despite his haste, he stopped to look at the Hollywood-like monument to Leonidas and the Spartan soldiers at Thermopylae; Bada people, according to their orders, we will sleep here." The inscription touched his heartstrings, and he seemed to hear the different contexts hidden in this sentence; he trembled and hurried on his way. ①公元前486年，波斯王薛西斯统领大军侵犯希腊，雅典和斯巴达组织了一个希腊同盟，反对波斯人，斯巴达王勒奥尼达斯以一万人扼守天险温泉关。后由于一希腊叛徒带路，波斯人绕小道奇袭斯巴达人，最后，斯巴达人全军覆没。 -- Annotation 在一派柔和的阳光中，他在明那弗拉停了一会儿，在清澈的水中游着泳，越过狭窄的海峡遥望着依波亚；那里的成千艘轮船一定是从奥利斯来的，正在去特洛伊的途中。靠近海的那一边水流湍急，涡急游涌，所以他们一定用不着吃力地划桨前进。海滨更衣室里那个干瘪的老太婆欣喜若狂地嘀咕着，在他身上摩挲着，搞得他很尴尬；他无法很快地离开她。人们从来没有当着他的面谈及他的美貌，所以，在部分时间他都能忘记这一点。他只耽搁了一下，在商店里买了两三块很大的、涂满了奶油蛋糊的蛋糕，便继续向雅典海滨进发。在日落时分、他终于赶到了雅典。巨大的岩石和岩石的珍贵的柱子顶部都洒上了一片金色。 但是，雅典是个生活紧张而又堕落的城市，女人们毫不掩饰的赞美使他感到受了侮辱；罗马的女人要更为复杂，更叫人难以捉摸。在老百姓中有一种情绪，支持帕潘德里欧的人在酝酿着制造骚乱，以表明他们的决心。不，雅典已经不是老样子了；最好呆在别的地方。他把他的"拉根达"放进了一个车库，乘摆渡到克里特岛了。 终于，在橄榄树林之中，在野生的百里香和群山之中，他找到了自己的宁静。经过长途汽车的旅行，听够了捆绑的鸡的尖叫声，闻够了大蒜臭气之后，他找到了一家漆成了白色的、带有弧形柱廊的小旅馆，外面的石板上摆着三张没有遮阳伞的桌子，色彩明丽的希腊提包像灯笼似地挂在那里。地上栽着花椒树和澳大利亚桉树；新垫的南方土壤太干燥了，无法栽种欧洲的树。知了的腹部在鸣响着。尘埃卷起了红色的土雾。 夜晚，他睡在一间斗室之中，没有上门栓。在寂静的曙光中，他做了一次孤独的弥撒。白天，他四处散步。没有人打扰他，他也不打扰任何人。可是，当他经过的时候，农民们那黑色的眼睛就带着一种迟钝、惊愕的神色追随着他，每一张脸都在微笑着，带着深深的皱纹。天气很热，这里是如此宁静，如此沉寂。这是完美无缺的安宁。一天接一天，日子就象从坚韧的克里特珠串上滑落的珠子。 他不出声地祈祷，一种感情扩及了他的全身；思想象珠子，日子像珠子。主啊，我确实是属于你的。我感谢你赐福甚多。赐予我那位伟大的红衣主教，他的帮助，他的深情厚意，他那不渝的爱，赐予我罗马，使我置身在你的心脏，在你自己的教堂中匍伏在你的面前，感到你的教会的基石就在的心中。你把我的价值赐予了我；我所能为你做的就是表达我的感激吗？我还没有经过足够的磨炼。自从我开始侍奉你以来，我过的是一种长期的、完全快乐幸福的生活。我必须受苦，而受过艰苦磨炼的你是知道什么是受苦的。只有通过苦难的磨炼我才能使自己升华，更深切地理解你。因为生活就是这样的：这是通往理解你的玄奥的途径。把你的矛尖刺进我的胸膛吧，把它深深地埋藏在那里使我永远无法把它取去吧！让我受苦受难吧……为你我抛弃了其他一切，甚至抛弃了我的母亲，我的姐姐和那位红衣主教。你就是我的痛苦，我的快乐。使我谦卑低下吧，我将歌颂你那敬爱的名字。使我毁灭吧，我将欣然受之。我热爱你，只有你…… 他来到了一片他喜欢在那游泳的小海滩，这是两块突出的峭壁之间的一片月牙形的地方。他在那里站了一会儿，越过地中海遥望着远处地平线，那边想必是利比亚的地方。随后，他轻捷地从台阶上跳到了海滩上，甩掉了他的旅行鞋，把它们拾起来，踩着柔软弯曲的水线痕迹向他通常放鞋、衬衫和外面的短裤的地方走去。两个讲着慢吞吞的牛津音的英国人像一对大龙虾一样躺在不远的地方，在他们的远处，有两个女人懒洋洋地操着德语。戴恩瞟了那两个女人一眼，不自然地匆忙穿着游泳裤，发觉她们已经停止了交谈，坐起来轻轻拍打着头发，冲他微笑着。 "这地方游泳怎么样？"他向那两个英国人问道，尽管在心里他像所有的澳大利亚人称呼英国人为"波米"①那样称呼着他们。他们似乎就在当地工作，因为他们每天都到这片海滩上来。 ①澳洲人对新迁至澳大利亚或新西兰的英国人的一种蔑称。 -- Annotation "棒极啦，老兄。看看那潮头吧--对我们来说太猛了。一定是远处什么地方起了风暴。" "谢谢。"戴恩呲牙一笑，跑进了那无害的、卷起的小浪之中，就像一个熟练的冲浪运动员一样，干净利落地潜进了浅水之中。