Chapter 3 part one three

three On the right side of the triangle, on the corner of the small street leading to the Sun Reservoir Dock, there is indeed a coffee shop that also sells cigarettes; according to the information he collected yesterday, this shop is also used as a parking lot. There is a large billboard at the door, supported by two wooden pillars behind it, which announces the weekly releases of local movie theaters.There is no doubt that the film is shown every Sunday in the garage.The advertisement, painted in strong colours, showed a tall, burly man in Renaissance garb grasping a young woman in a white napkin; He gripped the car tightly with his wrist, and strangled her behind, with the other hand around her throat.She leaned back slightly with her upper body and face, struggling to free herself from the grip of the executioner, her slender blond hair falling to the ground.In the background at the back is a large bedpost bed with a red quilt.

The billboard was missing half of the store door, blocking the way, and Mathias had to make a detour to enter the coffee shop.There were no customers in the room, nor was the owner at the counter.He didn't shout, just waited for a minute, and walked out of the coffee shop again. There was no one in the vicinity.The structure of the area itself gives an impression of desolation.There is no other store except this cigarette coffee shop.Grocery stores, butchers, bakeries, and the largest coffee shop, all opened towards the port.In addition, more than half of the left side of the square was occupied by a dense wall, nearly two meters high. The plaster on the wall was peeling off, and several tiles on the top of the wall were gone.On the triangular spire, at the fork of two roads, there is a small official building, separated from it by a small garden in front, and on the triangular roof of the gate there is a long flagpole, but no flag; it may be A school, or a town hall—or both a school and a town hall.It is very surprising that there is no pavement anywhere except around the statues; the streets are paved with worn stones, here and there with hollows and bumps, down to the foot of the house walls.Mathias had long since forgotten this detail, just as he had forgotten everything else.After he looked around the surrounding environment, his eyes fell on the wooden billboard again.He had seen this poster in the city before, it had been plastered all over the city a few weeks ago.This time, perhaps because of the special angle of inclination of this advertisement, he saw for the first time a dirty toy doll with stumped limbs and arms under the feet of the actor.

He looked up at the window above the coffee shop, hoping to draw attention to him.The coffee shop house was shabby in the extreme, having only one floor, like its neighbours, while most of the houses along the quay had two floors.Now he could see through the alley opposite the back of the houses he had just passed in front—similarly built, though taller.The last house stood on the corner where the square met the quay, a great black shadow against the glistening waters of the port.You can also see the empty end of the breakwater protruding from the gable of the roof, also against the sun, but between the fence and the wall, there is a long strip of light stretching from one end of the embankment to the other, and a short one. The slanted and straight light from the bridge continued to shine on the ship docked beside the inclined bridge.The position of the ship was farther than it appeared on the surface, and it was low tide time, and the embankment seemed particularly tall. In contrast, the ship became ridiculously small.

Mathias had to put his hands on his forehead to make a shade from the sun. A woman in a black robe appeared from a corner of the room, crossed the square, and came towards Mathias; her skirt was wide and her apron was narrow.To avoid stepping on the pavement beside the monument, she made a half-circle; the curve of the half-circle might have been complete, but the unevenness of the ground made it impossible to see.When she was only two or three paces away from Mathias, Mathias greeted her and asked if she could tell him where to find the owner of the garage.He thought—he added—to rent a bicycle for a day.The woman pointed out to him the advertisement for the film, in other words, the tobacconist behind the billboard; Mathias told her that there was no one in the house, and she looked dismayed, as if there would be nothing wrong with that. There is a way.In order to comfort him, she said to him in very vague words that maybe the owner of the parking lot refused to rent the bicycle to him; or she meant to say...

At this time, a man's head was exposed in the door frame above the billboard. "Well," said the woman, "there's a man over there," and she went into the alley that led to the water-dock.Mathias walked up to the tobacconist. "Pretty girl! Huh?" said the proprietor, winking at the alley. Although Mathias did not see any particular attraction in the woman, and he seemed to think that she was not very young, he also winked at the boss-his occupation forced him to do so.In fact it never occurred to him that anyone would look at her in that light; he only remembered that she wore a thin black ribbon around her neck, an old island fashion.He immediately started talking about his business: he had been called by Papa Henry, who owns the Atlantic coffee shop (one of the biggest in town); A good one, rent it for a whole day.He could get the car back before the steamer departed at four o'clock in the afternoon, because he didn't want to linger until Friday.

"Are you a traveling salesman?" asked the man. "Watch seller." Mathias replied, while gently clapping the small box in his hand. "Ha! Ha! You sell watches," the man went on, "that's very good." But he immediately made a face: "You can't sell a single watch in this backward place. You are wasting money." time." "I'm going to try my luck," Mathias replied calmly. "Okay, okay; it's your business. Would you like a bicycle?" "Yes. Get me a good one if you can." After thinking for a while, the owner of the garage said: According to him, a bicycle is not needed at all to walk around the six rows of houses.He pouted mockingly across the square.

"I mainly want to go to the country," Mathias explained, "I have a special product." "Oh! to the country? Excellent!" agreed the owner of the garage. He opened his eyes very wide when he said the word "excellent"; it seemed to him even more absurd to sell watches to the inhabitants of the cliff.But the whole conversation was always very friendly--only a little too lengthy for Mathias' liking.This interlocutor has a very peculiar way of answering. He always agrees with you at the beginning, and sometimes even repeats your words two or three times in a firm tone, but the purpose of the repetition is only to throw out the second half of the doubtful sentence after a second. Speak up, and completely reverse what he himself has said earlier, with a fairly definite counter-advice.

"Anyway," he concluded, "you can take a tour of the place. It's a fine day. Some people think the cliffs here are beautiful." "You know, I've known this place for a long time: I was born here!" Mathias replied. In order to confirm his words, Mathias gave his last name.This time, the owner of the parking lot said a lot of more complicated words, which contained three meanings at the same time: First, of course Mathias should have been born on this island, otherwise he would not have been born here An absurd notion of selling goods; secondly, the hope of selling even a single watch here betrayed his utter ignorance of local conditions; lastly, his surname was everywhere.As for the garage owner himself, he wasn't born on the island - of course not - and he didn't want to "get moldy" here.

Bicycles, he has a wonderful one, but "not here at the moment".For the sake of "Ao Lao", he is willing to go and get it, and Mathias will be able to use it in half an hour, which is right. Mathias thanked him and said that he can change his route according to this method: first come A quick circle around the town and then into the country; in three quarters of an hour he would be back to pick up his bicycle. In order to avoid losing any chance, he suggested to let the other party take a look at his products: "First-class goods, the quality is absolutely guaranteed, and the price is extremely cheap." After the other party agreed, the two walked into the coffee shop. His suitcase was opened on the first table through the door.No sooner had he removed the top cardboard cover than the other had changed his mind: he didn't need a watch, he already had one on his finger (he rolled up his sleeves--it was true) and he still had Keep a spare.What's more, he had to hurry to get his bicycle so that he could bring it back on time.In his haste he pretty much pushed the salesman out of the coffee shop.It can be said that the only purpose he had just looked at the watch was to verify what was in the box.What had he hoped to see in the box just now?

Mathias looked over the wooden billboard and saw the stone statue that cut in half the exposed part of the jetty.He stepped up the uneven stone pavement, and in order to avoid the billboard, he took a step toward the small town hall—or what looked like a town hall.If the building were newer, its small size might make it seem like a model. On both sides of the triangular roof above its gate, a kind of arched decoration occupies the entire front edge of the building, crossing the dividing line between the downstairs and the second floor—actually two sinusoidal curves in opposite directions intertwined with each other (for In other words, two curves are twisted together on the same horizontal axis).This kind of decoration, which does not belong to any style, is also found on the cornices of the roof.

Seeing this, he turned his eyes to the left and scanned the entire square from beginning to end: the small garden in front of the town hall, the road leading to the lighthouse, the crumbling walls, the narrow streets and The back door of the first row of houses facing the port, the triangular roof of the house on the street corner that casts its reflection into the middle of the street, the middle of the breakwater facing the shining square water with its back against the sun, the monument to the dead, moored in the The small ships in front of the two halves of the inclined bridge, the end of the breakwater with only one signal station and no one else, the boundless sea. There is no inscription on the cuboid pedestal of the monument, nor on the south-facing face.Mathias forgot to buy cigarettes.He was going to buy a pack when he came back later.Among the many aperitifs posted in the tobacconist's was a poster, distributed all over the province by the Watch Retailers' Guild, which read: "Buy Watches at the Watch Shop." watch shop.The owner of the tobacco shop is out to discredit the place and its inhabitants.What he just said admiring the woman with the black ribbon must have been an irony—it used his favorite way of talking, and he just started and didn't go on: "Pretty girl! Mmmm "Of course! A beautiful girl like this...you can swallow it!" "Then you don't ask too much! The women in this place are ugly as hell, and they're all drunks." The pessimistic predictions made by the shopkeepers ("You won't sell a single watch in this backward place") were, in any case, a bad omen.Although Mathias thinks that this sentence is of little importance objectively—he does not believe that this sentence is enough to show that the speaker really understands the market situation, nor does he believe that this sentence is enough to show that the speaker has the ability to predict—but he still Hope it's better not to hear this sentence.Another point that made him not very satisfied was that he had decided to start selling watches from the town just now, but according to the original plan, he would wait until he came back from the country, if the ship had not sailed and he had time to spare, then he would sell the watches in the town. on as the end point of sales.His confidence—a confidence so painstakingly built but too fragile—was beginning to falter.He was still trying to find assurance of success in this wavering—in this expedient change of plan—that, in fact, he already felt that the whole plan was gradually coming to naught. Now he was going to spend three quarters of an hour at the beginning of his visit to these gloomy houses, which he was sure would end in nothing but a series of failures.It must have been after eleven o'clock when he was at last able to get on his bicycle and set off.From eleven o'clock to four fifteen in the afternoon, there were only five hours and a quarter of an hour—that is, three hundred and fifteen minutes.What's more, the time for every watch sold cannot be calculated in four minutes, at least ten minutes.If these 315 minutes are fully utilized, only 31 and a half watches can be sold.Unfortunately, this calculation itself is also incorrect: first, he has to exclude the considerable time spent on the road, and especially the time spent on people who don't buy watches-apparently the largest number. those times.According to his smoothest calculations (he was able to sell eighty-nine watches), out of two thousand inhabitants, there would always be, in any case, nineteen hundred and eleven incomes which he would not buy; One minute is 1,911 minutes, divided by sixty, that is, more than thirty hours, just hitting a snag took a long time, more than five times the time he could use!One-fifth of a minute—twelve seconds—twelve seconds for each refusal.Since he didn't have enough time to respond to these refusals, he might as well just quit. Ahead of him, along the quay, stretched a long row of houses along which he could walk back to the breakwater.There is no place for the oblique sunlight to attach to the house, so it cannot create sharp shadows on the house.The houses are whitewashed and covered with damp spots that make it impossible to tell the age of the houses and their dynasty.This mass of houses does not reflect much of the past importance of the island--only military, of course, but which has also made the island a prosperous little port in past centuries.Since the Navy abandoned the base because it believed it could not withstand the attack of modern weapons, a fire completely destroyed the declining city.The houses rebuilt on the original foundations were far less ornate, nor of the grand scale of the jetty, nor of the size of the fort's batteries.Now the breakwater protected only a dozen small sailboats and a few small-tonnage trawlers; the huge battery only served as the boundary at the other end of the town.This is just a very small fishing port, with no land connection and no possibility of commercial development.Trawlers bring their shellfish and fish catch to the mainland for sale, at ever-smaller margins by the day.The island's specialty—spider crabs—has sold particularly poorly. At low tide, the remains of these crabs are scattered on the outcropping mud at the foot of the pier.At the foot of the pier, there are flat stones covered with rotting seaweed, and there is a large piece of slightly sloping black mud. Here and there on the mud, there is a tin can that has not yet grown rust, there are pottery fragments with small flowers, and a The blue enamel colander was almost intact; among these stones and above the mud it was easy to distinguish the raised, dory shells of the spider crabs, mingled with the long, smooth shells of the common crabs.There is also a large number of buckled or broken crab legs, one on the foot.There are two or three joints, and the end is very long, slightly curved and sharp claws; there are also sharp and huge crab stings, most of which have been broken, and some of them are astonishingly large.In the morning sun, the smell of it all was strong, but not so foul: it was a mixture of iodine, heavy oil, and slightly rotting shrimp. Mathias had just turned off the road to the edge of the pier, and now turned back to the house.He crossed the whole of the quay again to the house that formed the corner of the square--a store that resembled a general and copper emporium--and entered a dark doorway that opened between this store and the butcher's. He found that the half-closed door was gently closed automatically after he walked in and pushed it.Walking in from under the sun, I couldn't see anything clearly for a while.Behind him (not face to face, but back to him) was a display window of copper and iron.He found a round enamelled iron colander with a long handle on the left, which was exactly the same as the one on the mud by the sea just now, and it was also the same blue color, new and about the same level of date.Looking more closely, he saw that a rather large piece of enamel had flaked off, leaving a fan-shaped black spot on the colander, with this black spot as the center, and fringing all around, a cluster of fissures, gradually weakening, until It doesn't completely disappear until you get close to the edge of the colander.On the right, a dozen or so pocket knives—the exact same pattern—are embedded in cardboard in a circular arrangement like a watch, all pointing to a small design that presumably bears the maker's stamp.The blades are about ten centimeters long, with thick backs and sharp and thin edges, much thinner than ordinary pocket knives; they resemble a triangular short sword, but only one side is thin and sharp.Mathias could no longer recall seeing tools of this kind; they must have been used by fishermen for special cutting purposes--such cutting work must have been common, since there was no description on the cardboard to identify such use.The cardboard was decorated only with a red frame and the "Necessary Brand" logo, which was printed in capital letters on the top; and the design in the center of the circle, which could be regarded as the axis of the wheel, and the small knives around it were the spokes of the wheel.The drawing shows a tree with a slender body drawn in straight lines; the upper part is divided into two branches in the shape of a branch, each with a small cluster of leaves; the leaves on both sides do not protrude beyond the branches, and the middle falls to the branches of the two branches. between. Mathias went again to the street without sidewalks.Of course, he didn't sell a single watch.In the windows of copper and iron shops, too, were displayed all kinds of wares that were gradually relegated to the general merchandise trade: from large balls of thread used to mend fishing nets, to black ribbons and pin sockets. After passing the butcher's shop, Mathias went through another doorway. He walked in the same narrow, unlit corridor, the terrain of which was familiar to him now.But his business still didn't make any progress.He knocked on the door of the first family's house, but no one answered.When he knocked at the second house, a kind but deaf old woman forced him to give up his attempt to do business: she did not understand him at all, and he had to smile countless times and pretend to be very satisfied with the visit. at first the old woman was very surprised, then decided to answer him with a smile, and even thanked him warmly.After many bows to each other, they shook hands so warmly that the old woman was on the verge of embracing him.He went up the difficult stairs to the second floor, where a housewife threw him out of the house without letting him say a word, and a baby was crying loudly in the room.On the third floor he found only dirty and unsightly children, timid and cowering, sick perhaps, or else it was Tuesday and they would be at school. Back on the pier again, he went into the butcher shop again, trying to convince the butcher shop owner.The butcher shop owner was greeting two female customers, and none of the three paid much attention to his introduction, which made it impossible for him to even open the small box.He didn't insist anymore, the cold air of the fresh meat drove him out of the butcher shop. The next shop is "Hope" coffee shop.He went in.The first thing to do in a coffee shop is always to have something to drink.He went to the counter, put the little case on the ground between his feet, and ordered a glass of absinthe. The girl who served the customers behind the liquor counter looked terrified and had the uneasy attitude of a beaten dog.Sometimes when she ventured to raise her eyelids, two big eyes suddenly appeared--dark and beautiful--but this was only for a moment, and she immediately lowered the eyelids again, so that people could only admire her like a sleeping doll. The kind of long eyelashes.Her somewhat fragile body accentuated her fragile air. Three men--three sailors--entered and sat down around a table.Mathias had just seen them standing at the door arguing.Now they ordered three glasses of red wine.The waitress came around from behind the liquor counter, carefully and awkwardly holding the bottle and three stacked glasses.Without saying a word, she placed the three cups in front of the customer.In order to pour the wine more carefully, she bent down her upper body and turned her head to one side.An apron was wrapped around her black arms, and the round neckline at the back was cut very low, revealing her delicate skin.Her hair style shows the entire nape of her neck. One of the sailors turned and looked at the counter.Mathias turned quickly before he could see why the sailor was looking away, and took a sip of his own glass of absinthe.He realized that there was a new person in front of him, who was standing against the door frame of the door leading to the inner room, not far from the cash drawer.Mathias greeted him vaguely. The man seemed not to notice Mathias.He just kept his eyes on the girl who had just finished pouring her wine. The girl is not yet used to the business.She poured the wine too slowly, keeping an eye on the level of the wine in the glass, trying not to spill a drop.When the third glass was also full to the brim, she picked up the wine bottle, held it with both hands, and walked back to the original position with her eyes lowered.At the other end of the liquor counter, the man watched her relentlessly, and she walked towards him with small steps.She must have seen her employer coming--she had seen it with the flicker of an eyelash--for she stopped abruptly, as if caught by the grooves in the floor in front of the toes of her shoes. The rest of the people were already motionless.Once the girl's timid gait—too erratic to last long in the present situation—had disappeared, the whole scene froze. Nobody said anything. The waitress looked at the floor beneath her feet.The owner looked at the waitress.Mathias looked the innkeeper in the eye.The three sailors looked at their glasses.There was no sign of blood throbbing in the veins - not even a shiver. It is useless to estimate how long this situation will prolong. Four words sounded: "Are you asleep?" These four words did not break the silence, on the contrary, they were completely integrated with the silence. The voice of these four characters is serious, deep, a bit like singing.Although there was no anger in the voice, it was almost low, but there was a threat under the hypocritical tenderness.Otherwise, there is hypocrisy hidden in this superficial threat. After a while—as if ordered to cross a large stretch of sandy beach and countless pools, it would take a long time to reach her—the young girl continued to bow her head, and walked timidly towards the shopkeeper who had just spoken (someone saw her). Did he move his lips?).When she was at his side - not a step away - within reach - she leaned over and put the bottle back - revealing the arch of her neck, the tip of her spine at the neck and foot Protrude slightly.Then she stood up straight and carefully fingered and wiped the freshly washed wine glasses.Outside, behind the glass doors, beyond the pavement and the mud of the sea, is the sea dancing and shining in the sun: some of the lights are diamond-shaped like Gothic arches, like lying flames Undulating; some bright lights are straight lines, suddenly contracted to form a lightning bolt - then stretched out to the horizontal plane, and then broken into a lightning bolt - this is a puzzle game of dividing and combining pictures, A movement that unceasingly spreads out and closes without cracks. At the table around which the sailors sat, someone whistled through clenched teeth—a prelude to the resumption of conversation. Enthusiastically, yet whispered, the words came out one by one: "... deserved..." It was the youngest sailor who began to speak, continuing a long-drawn-out argument begun elsewhere. "She deserves..." Then there was silence...a little whistle...he searched for the words below, his eyelids puckered with the effort; he searched in dark corners for the Disused pinball machines. "I don't know what she deserves." "Yes!" said one of the other two sailors--his neighbor--in a louder voice; and he drew the end of the first word unduly. The third person sat across from him. He drank the remaining wine at the bottom of the glass, showed an expression of boredom with this topic, and said calmly, "You should be slapped a few times...you too." They fell silent again.The owner of the shop leaning on the door frame of the inner room has long since disappeared.With a twinkle of the eyelashes, Mathias saw the girl's big black eyes.He took a sip of his wine.The work of wiping the glasses was over; so as not to appear bewildered, she put her hands behind her back and pretended to fasten the loose strings of her apron. "Give her a whip!" continued the young sailor.He whistled through gritted teeth, a couple of short blows, and then repeated it in a more vague—dreamlike—tone. Mathias looked at the cloudy yellow glass in front of him.He saw his right hand resting on the edge of the counter, the nails were long and unusually pointed, and he had forgotten to cut them for too long. He put his hand in his short pocket and felt for the little rope.He thought of the small suitcase at his heels, the purpose of this trip and the urgency of time.But the owner of the shop was no longer in the crowd, and the waitress was not someone who could easily spend a hundred and fifty or two hundred crowns.Two of the sailors were clearly not the watch-buying type; and as for the youngest, it was not proper to interrupt him as he was repeating some tale of a wife stealing a man or a fiancée changing her mind. Mathias drank his absinthe, jingled the money in his pocket, and promised to pay. "Three crowns and seven," said the young girl. Contrary to his expectations, she spoke in a natural manner, without any shyness.Absinthe is not expensive.He placed three silver pieces and seven copper pieces in a long row on the counter, and added a new silver half-crown: "this is for you." "Thank you, sir." She took all the money and swept it into the cash drawer indiscriminately. "Is the proprietress there?" Mathias asked. "She's upstairs, sir," answered the young girl. The innkeeper's figure reappeared on the doorjamb of the inner room, exactly in the same place - not in the middle of the two doors, but against the doorjamb on the right - as if he had not moved since his first appearance.Nor did the expression of his face change: unfathomable, brutal, waxy.There was hostility in his face, or apprehension--or simply absent-mindedness--according to which way the observer preferred to interpret it; and you had every right to say that he had the most insidious intentions.The waitress stooped to arrange the clean wine glasses under the counter.Outside the glass door, the reflection of the sea water shines in the sun. "What a fine day!" said Mathias. He bent down and picked up the small case with his left hand.He wanted to get out of the coffee shop quickly.If no one answers him, he will not insist any longer, but will leave. "The gentleman wants to see Mrs. Robin," said the young girl now in a calm voice.Half of the sea water in the port is backed by the sun, shining so brightly that people can't open their eyes.Mathias put up the arbor with his right hand. "What's the matter?" asked the innkeeper. Mathias turned around.The innkeeper was a very tall man, amazingly massive--almost a giant.He gave the impression of strength and strength, which was intensified by his immobility and his seeming difficulty in moving his body. "This is Mr. Robin." The young girl introduced. Mathias nodded, adding a friendly smile.This time, the coffee shop owner returned the salute, but almost imperceptibly.He was about the same age as Mathias. "I used to know a person named Robin," Mathias said, "I was a child at that time, that was more than thirty years ago..." Then he began to narrate some memories of being a primary school student , this kind of memory is suitable for anyone on the island. "Robin," he added, "he's a big man! Jean, I think that's his name, Jean? Robin..." "A cousin of mine," said the shopkeeper, nodding. "He wasn't very big...he was dead anyway." "No way?" "He died at thirty-six." "Impossible!" cried Mathias, suddenly filled with sorrow.His friendship with this imaginary Robin has increased remarkably, for as much as he goes on talking nonsense, he is never in danger of confronting Robin again.He said his last name by the way, and tried to lure the other party to talk, so that the other party would be at ease. "How did he die, poor old friend?" "Is this what you want to see my wife for?" asked the real Robin, his puzzled look probably not fake. Mathias reassured him.The purpose of his visit was not for this matter.He was a watch salesman, and he happened to have very nice ladies' watches for sale, which would be of interest to someone as knowledgeable as Mrs. Robin. Mr. Robin moved his arm a little--the first real movement he had made since he appeared--to show that he was not fooled by the compliment.The salesman gave a knowing smile, but unfortunately there was no response.At the table where the sailors were sitting, a red-faced man sitting to the left of the cheated lover said "Yes!" over and over again--apparently for no reason, since no one said anything to him.Mathias quickly explained that he also has a batch of men's watches, which are of high quality and low price, and he is not afraid of competition from his peers.He should have opened the small box without waiting, showing the goods to those around him, and explaining their merits in detail, but the tall liquor counter prevented him from doing so, he had to have full freedom of movement to do so, And the use of the hall tables forced him to turn his back on the only hopeful customer—the owner of the shop.But at last he chose the latter, unsatisfactory course, and began to boast about his stuff—he was too one-sided to have any hope of convincing anyone.The waitress washed and dried the empty glasses and put them away, then took a rag and wiped the zinc-covered counter top where he had just been drinking.The three sailors next to him started a new argument, which also started without end. They also spoke very little and slowly, and didn't care whether the argument progressed or reached a conclusion.This time they were arguing about a shipment of spider crabs (they called them "tramps") headed to the mainland, and they disagreed about the method of selling them - as if because of the fish dealer they used to hang out with. There are differences.It is also possible that they all agree, but are not entirely satisfied with the decision taken.To end the argument, the eldest—who was facing the other two companions—declared that it was his turn to have a drink.So the young girl picked up the bottle of red wine again, walked out of the counter, and walked over with small steps, holding the bottle carefully. Mathias went to the owner of the shop and asked the owner to take a closer look at a set of watches (men's watches worth 250 crowns each, with a protective cover on the watch glass), and he found that The owner looked away from the cardboard to the table where the waitress was pouring the wine.She tilted her head, tilted her neck and shoulders, and carefully noted the height of the wine in the glass.The neckline of her black gown was cut low at the back.Her hair is pulled up to show the nape. Since no one was paying attention to him, Mathias was going to put the cardboard back in the little sperm.The red-faced sailor glanced up at him, gave him a quick cooperative grimace, and patted his neighbor on the elbow: "Hey, you, little Louis, do you want to buy a watch? Hmm (winks)? Buy one for Jacqueline?" In answer, the young man whistled only twice, two very short blows, from the west seam.The waitress suddenly twisted her waist and straightened up.For an instant like lightning, Mathias caught a glimpse of her eyeballs and their black radiant veils.她以脚跟为轴，转了一下身子，像个木偶一样，然后拿着酒瓶走回柜台后面，恢复了她的像玩具娃娃那样缓慢和柔弱的步法。他起初认为她这种步伐是由于笨拙——他的猜测大概是错了。 他又拿起一组女式手表转到店主人这边；这一组手表是所谓“新奇式”手表。 “这些手表给罗宾太太最合适；她一定会喜欢的！第一只是二百七十五克朗的。这一只是三百四十九克朗的，有一只古式表壳。像这样的机件不论在哪一家钟表店起码要卖五百克朗。至于表带，我是把它当作赠品来奉送的！您瞧这个：真正是一个珠宝！” 他的热情都落了空。他的伪装的愉快心情，刚刚表现出来就自动消失了。周围的气氛过于不利。在这种情况下坚持下去是没有意义的。没有人在听他。 可是也没有人明确地表示拒绝。也许他们要让他一直讲到天黑，所以他们不时漫不经心地对他的手表望上一眼，偶然也回答他一两句话，以阻止他离开。他还是马上离开的好，举行一次拒绝仪式到底是不必要的。 “如果您愿意的话，”店主人终于说，“您可以到楼上去。她是不会买的，可是这样也可以使她散散心。” 马弟雅思以为那个文夫会陪他上楼，他早已打算提出一个借口来溜走了，可是他马上明白事实上不是那么一回事，店主人是在详细指点他怎样走法才能找到老板娘；据他说，他的妻子正在料理家务或者在厨房里煮饭，这使人觉得奇怪，既是这样，为什么她还需要散散心。不管怎样，马弟雅思决定接受这个最后的尝试，他希望离开这个板着面孔的巨人以后，能恢复他的说服人的才能。到目前为止，他不断地有一种对着空虚说话的感觉——这种空虚是怀有最大的敌意的，他的话一说出来就被这空虚吞没了。 他扣上小箱子，向里屋走去。店主人没有叫他走那道开在卖酒柜台后面的门，却叫他走放弹球机那个角落的另一扇门。 推门进去以后，他发觉自己站在一个相当不清洁的穿堂里，光线只从一个小玻璃门透进来，相当昏暗，因为小玻璃门通向里院，而里院本身也是又深又昏暗的。四周的墙以前是漆成一色的储黄色，现在已经脏了，剥落了，损伤了，有些地方有了裂缝。地板和楼梯虽然明显地有经常洗擦和践踏的痕迹，但是却蒙上了一层黑色的泥垢。屋角里堆着各种物品：装着空瓶的木箱，大型的硬纸盒（纸皮已经隆起，形成波浪形状），一架洗衣机，一些破烂的家具碎片。可以看得出，这些东西是按照一定的方法排列的，并不是陆陆续续乱七八糟堆在那里的。此外，所有的东西也并不是脏得令人讨厌，实际上一切都显得十分平常，比较触目的只是地板没有打蜡（这其实也是很平常的），墙壁也需要重新漆过而已。至于这里的一片静寂，比起每一分钟都侵袭着咖啡店大厅的那种半静寂的紧张气氛，那是好受得多，也合理得多了。