Chapter 17 Chapter Sixteen

My second visit to Bradley, I wasn't nervous at all, on the contrary, I found it very interesting. "Really think of yourself as that character." Before I went out, Jin Qiao encouraged me, and I tried to do it. Mr. Bradley welcomed me with a smile. "Nice to see you again." He stretched out his fat hand and said, "It seems that you have thought about your little problem carefully, haven't you? As I said, take your time, don't rush." I said, "I can't do it, things—it's a little tense..." Bradley watched me carefully. He noticed that I was tense, avoiding his eyes, and clumsy with my hands when I lowered my hat.

"Okay, okay," he said, "we'll do some research together, and you want to bet on something, don't you?" "Here's the thing—" I cut it off and let Bradley do his job. "I see you're a little nervous," he said. "You're discreet, and I'm for discreet. Never say anything your mother can't hear! Well, you think I have a bug in my office, don't you?" I don't know, and it shows on my face. "It's a hidden microphone," he said. "I can assure you that there is absolutely no such thing here, and our conversations will never be recorded. If you don't believe it," his candor is encouraging, "you actually Why believe it?—you can talk to me wherever you choose."

I said I believe there is absolutely nothing wrong with this place. "You're smart! I can assure you, that kind of thing doesn't do us any good, and neither you nor I will say anything against us. Well, let's cut to the chase, you're bothered by one thing , I found that I sympathize with you very much, and I think you can talk to me. I am a person with rich experience in personal life, maybe I can give you some advice. After the troubles are shared, only half of the troubles are left. How about we just say that?" We settled for it, and I stammered my story. Mr. Bradley was very tactful, and now and then he gave me the right touch to get me through my story of my youthful infatuation with Taurian and our secret marriage.

"This kind of thing is too common, too common." He shook his head and said, "I know very well that young people have ideals, like really beautiful girls, and they are already married before they know each other enough. What happened then? " I went on. I've deliberately kept the details vague because the man I'm playing mustn't go into details, I'm just showing disillusionment—a little fool finally realizing that he's just a little fool. I made him think we ended up having a serious argument.If Bradley thought my young wife had run off with someone else, or that there was always another man between us, that was about it.

"But you know," I said anxiously, "she's a sweet girl, though she's—well, not quite what I thought she was. I never thought she'd be like that!" "What the hell did she do to you?" I explained that my "wife" had come back to me. "What do you think happened to her?" "It might sound a little strange to say, but I really didn't think about it. To be honest, I think I thought she was dead." Bradley shook his head at me. "One wish! What a wish! How could she die?" "She has never written or otherwise contacted me, and I have not heard from her."

"Actually, it's because you want to completely forget her." This little lawyer with a pair of black beads like eyes has his own research on psychology. "Yeah," I said gratefully, "you know, it's not that I want to marry someone else." "But you mean it now, don't you?" "This—" I was very reluctant. "Come on, tell Pop," said the loathsome Bradley. I'm a little embarrassed to admit that, yes, I've been thinking about remarrying lately. But I resolutely refused to name the person who remarried, because I didn't want her to be involved in this matter, and I would never tell him anything about her.

This time, I think I reacted correctly again, Bradley didn't insist that I speak out, he just said: "It's a natural reaction, my dear sir, the bad past is over, don't worry about it." Say, you have found someone else who is perfectly suited to you, with whom you can share your literary pleasures and lifestyle, a true companion." Only then did I realize that he knew about Hermia.It's as simple as that, with a little research it turns out that I only have one close girlfriend.After Bradley received my letter requesting an interview, he must have checked all my information, and he already had a general understanding of me in his heart.

"What about divorce?" he asked. "Isn't that the most natural solution?" I said, "Divorce is out of the question. She—my wife—wouldn't even hear it." "Ha, ha, may I ask how she treats you?" "She—uh—she wants to come back to me, she's—not unreasonable at all, she knows I have other girlfriends, and—and—" "It's mean - I get it, there doesn't seem to be much to do unless...but she's still young..." "There are still many years to live." I said sadly. "Oh, that's hard to say, Mr. Easterbrook. You say she's been living abroad?"

"That's what she told me, but I don't know where she lives." "Maybe in the West, you know, where sometimes you get the disease, you have an incubation period of several years, and then you come back and then you suddenly get sick. I know two or three cases of this, and it might be the same this time. If so Make you happy," he paused, "I'm willing to take a small gamble." I shake my head. "She has decades to live." "Well, it's up to you to bet...but let's make a bet: I'll bet fifteen hundred that this lady will die before Christmas, how about?"

"Must be faster! I can't wait any longer, something—" I'm not cooperating on purpose, I don't know what he thinks: Hermia and I have developed to the stage where we can't wait any longer, or my "wife" threatens to find trouble with Hermia.Perhaps he thought someone else was chasing Hermia. Whatever he thinks, anyway, my purpose is to show can't wait on purpose. "Then the bet will change," he said. "How about we bet eighteen hundred to one that your wife won't live a month?" I thought I should pay back the price at this time, so I did so, saying that I didn't have that much money.Bradley's method is very good. He doesn't know how to find out how much money I can raise in an emergency.He knew that Hermia was rich, because he carefully hinted that I would be rich after marriage, and he didn't care about the bet.Moreover, the more impatient I am, the more favorable he is, and he will not reduce the price no matter what.

In the end, I finally accepted the condition. I made an IOU with too many legal words on it, most of which I didn't understand.In fact, I doubt it has any legal effect. "Is this legally valid?" I asked him. "I don't think," Mr. Bradley showed a set of good dentures, "it wouldn't have that kind of problem." There was not much kindness in his smile. "A bet is a bet, and if somebody doesn't pay—" I look at him. "I shouldn't talk about it," he said softly. "Really, I shouldn't talk about it. We don't like deadbeats." "I'm not going to pay my bills," I said. "I'm sure you won't, Mr. Easterbrook. As far as—er—arrangements are concerned, Mr. Easterbrook, in London, where are you saying?" "You must know?" "I must know all the details, and the next thing I have to do is arrange for you to meet Miss Gray—remember Miss Gray?" I said of course I remember. "She's an amazing woman, so amazing, so gifted. She'll ask you for things your wife wears—handkerchiefs and all—" "But why?" "I know, I know, don't ask me why, I don't know either, only Miss Gray knows this secret." "What's going to happen? What's she going to do?" "You must believe me when I say I don't know, Mr. Easterbrook. I really don't know--and don't want to know. Well, there's no need to say any more." He paused, and then said in an almost fatherly voice: "Mr. Easterbrook, I hope you will pay a visit to the honorable lady first, and make her think that you are willing to compromise. You'd better go abroad for a few weeks, and when you come back..." "and then?" "When she is not paying attention, take away a piece of clothing she wears every day, and then go to Diping Village in Madi." He pondered for a while, and then said: "I remember you said last time that you have friends—or Relatives—live around there?" "Cousin." "That's easy. She will let you stay for a day or two." "What about most of the others? Stay in a hotel?" "I think sometimes it was, or the drive to Bournemouth, but I don't really know." "What will my cousin think?" "You expressed curiosity about the residents of the 'White Horse' and wanted to attend a seance. It sounds very simple. Miss Gray and her psychic friends often hold seances. You know what a seance is like The thing is, though you know it's all nonsense, you still find it interesting. That's all, Mr. Easterbrook, you see, it's very simple." "Well—then, what then?" "That's all I can tell you, and that's all I really know, and Miss Setha Gray is in charge of the rest. Don't forget to get gloves or handkerchiefs from your honorable lady. Then you'd better travel abroad." A trip. The Riviera region of Italy is very pleasant in this season, and only a week or two is enough." I said I didn't want to go abroad and wanted to stay in the UK. "Very well, but you must not go to London, and I solemnly remind you that you must not go to London." "why?" Mr. Bradley looked at me reproachfully. "We guarantee our guests 100 percent -- er -- safety," he said, "'if' they listen." "How about Bournemouth? Is it possible?" "Well, Bournemouth is all right, go to a hotel, make a few friends, and spend more time with them. We hope—you can't fault your life. If you get tired of living in Bournemouth, you can Live in Torquay whenever you want." His tone was as hospitable as a travel agency clerk. I shook his fat hand once more and said goodbye.