Chapter 2 Chapter One

It was only four o'clock in the spring afternoon, and already Robert Blair wanted to go home. Off work time is five o'clock, of course.But if you're the only Blair partner at Blair, Hahiva & Poigne, you can leave the office at any time without criticism.Besides, when your business mostly involves wills, property transfers or investments, there are not many customers visiting in the afternoon.Moreover, in the small town of Milford, the latest time for mail delivery is 3:30 pm, which means that the day's work is over before 4:00 pm. The phone on his desk would never ring again.Because the partners who usually invite each other to play golf together should have putt to the fourteenth or fifteenth hole by this time.And no one would call to invite him to dinner, because in Milford dinner parties were still formally sent with handwritten invitations in the post.Aunt Lin wouldn't call to ask him to drop by to buy fish on the way home from get off work, because today was the time she went to the theater every other afternoon, and now the movie started nearly twenty minutes earlier.

He sat there, on a lazy spring afternoon in small town, staring indifferently at the last vestiges of the setting sun at the table (a mahogany and copper-paneled table that his grandfather had brought back from Paris to shame the family), contemplating He left the office and went home.The sunlight gently enveloped the tea tray on the table, which seems to remind people that the props used to serve afternoon tea here are not only unchanged, but have almost become an unwritten tradition of this century-old joint office.Every afternoon at exactly 3:50, Miss Teff would hold an enamel tea tray completely covered by a white square scarf, inside which sat a blue-patterned porcelain cup filled with tea, and on a small saucer next to it was a Two biscuits: French biscuits on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and digestive biscuits on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

He stared boredly at the tea tray, wondering how it represented the continuity of the practice.As long as he can remember, this porcelain cup has been used in the office.The tea tray on which it was placed was originally brought by the cook at home to buy bread when he was a child, and was brought to the office by his still young and living mother to place the blue patterned teacup.The white square scarf later appeared in the office with Miss Teff. Miss Teff came to work at the firm as a young woman, thanks to the war; she was the first woman in the small town of Milford to have a desk in a law firm.Throughout the war, Miss Teff, a slender, clumsy but earnest woman, remained single.The firm also survived that chaotic period.Another quarter of a century passed, and now the lanky, silver-haired, dignified lady of Toddler was a surprisingly senior member of the firm.Aside from being the first woman in history to step outside this business field that has always been male-only, the only change she brought to this time-honored firm that has always followed tradition is the white tea towel that covers the tea tray.Miss Teff never put food directly on the tray in her own home: there was always a tea towel or decorative square.When she came to the office, she was stunned and puzzled by the tray without any decoration, which was completely unacceptable; and she felt that the enamel tea tray was uncomfortable to look at, and she lost her appetite.One day, she brought a tea towel from home; a well-regulated, plain white square, laid firmly on the tea tray to hold small snacks.Robert's father, who had loved the plain tray, was moved by Miss Teff's firm devotion to accept it.Now, the white square scarf has become part of the office, like the deed box, the brass name plate, and the cold that Mr. Hazeltin must report every year.

Just when Robert's browsing eyes stayed on the plate that originally contained biscuits, a chill hit his chest and lungs suddenly.This feeling has nothing to do with those few cookies, at least not with physiology.Because it is the biscuit routine that seems inescapably habituated: a rigid inevitability that does not vary, such as digestive biscuits on Thursdays, and biscuits on Mondays.Before last year, he didn't feel that there was anything wrong with living peacefully and peacefully in the place where he grew up, and he never thought about other possibilities of development.He still doesn't want another way of life.It's just that once or twice recently, the kind of doubts about life that never bothered him in the past will bump into his heart unexpectedly.

It’s like asking yourself: “Is this really the way you’re going to live the rest of your life?” Then there’s a sudden tightness in your chest, and a panic that fills your mind; just like being forced to go to the dentist at the age of ten. Heart-pounding panic and bewilderment. This really bothered Robert, who had always thought of himself as happy, happy, content and mature.Why did this annoying and inexplicable thought forcefully form a panic in his chest for no reason? Could it be that his life lacked something that a normal man should have? A wife? There is a chance.At least he thought he had; there were quite a few single, married women in the area who were eyeing him a lot.

Or because he didn’t love his mother? However, the caring Aunt Lin gave him all the love and care that a mother can give to her children! Is it because he is not rich enough? If being rich means he can afford what he wants to buy If so, his current financial ability has greatly exceeded his needs. Is it because of the lack of stimulation in life? He has never wanted any stimulation.For him, the greatest excitement in life was going out hunting or tying the sixteenth hole in a golf match. So what was it? Where did that "Is this really the life you're going to live?" confusion come from? Maybe, he thought, eyeing the blue plate of cookies; maybe it was just childhood The idea of ​​"tomorrow will be better" continues to hide in the subconscious of an adult man, until he suddenly realizes that nothing more important will happen tomorrow after a forty year, and that share is still hidden in his subconscious , the memories and expectations that were originally left behind in childhood were unwilling to stay dormant any longer, so they flew up on the stage and made a noise to demand people's attention and attention.

Of course, in all fairness, Robert Blair sincerely hoped that this life would continue until his death.Since he was sensible, he knew that one day he would enter this office to inherit his father's career; and he kindly sympathized with other boys of the same age. De Town, friends in the town, and the old sign and time-honored Buhapo United Law Firm. The firm had not had a partner named Hayva since 1843; a young heir of the Poignes occupied the back office.The word "occupation" is the most appropriate; because in fact, the young man seldom accepts legal affairs, and his main interest at present is to write some so-called new age poems that only he and Naville himself can understand.Robert is sad for those works, but he has tolerance and forgiveness for Naville's laziness and lack of business.Because when he first came to the firm and occupied the same office, he was quite idle and only practiced indoor golf all day long.

The afterglow of the setting sun finally slid over the tray and fell to the ground, and Robert decided to go home.If he left now, he still had time to walk through the mall before the sun went down.Walking on the commercial street in Milford Town usually brings him visual enjoyment.It is not because the commercial street in Milford is different from other towns in England, but it contains an intellectual beauty that represents the elegant life in British society in the past three hundred years.From the old house of the Brahpur office, built in the last year of Charles II's reign, to the south there is a gentle slope, with Georgian bricks and Elizabethan exposed black rafters. Post-and-timber houses, Victorian stone cottages, Regency stucco walls, and Edwardian cottages tucked away behind elm groves at the other end.

Although sometimes between rose red or white or brown, occasionally interspersed with incongruous black glass bottle walls, like an upstart wearing gold and silver over-decorated in an elegant banquet, fortunately, the surrounding area is rich in historical beauty. The architecture effortlessly balances the abruptness they create.Even the domineering chain stores have to compromise in Milford Town.True, a deep-pocketed American-style convenience store in the South End, ostentatiously waving a vulgar scarlet-and-gold banner, annoys every day Miss Churoff across the way, who owns an elegant Elizabethan site However, Westminster Bank, one of the big British banks, has been keeping a low profile on the exterior of the building since it issued usury loans, even when using Weaver Hall for expansion needs. Only a small marble-bottomed signboard was inlaid; in addition, when the pharmacy wholesaler Sowers bought the Weston House, he also kept the building's tall and amazing appearance.

It was a nice, happy, busy little high street, dotted with trimmed lime trees poking out of the sidewalk; Robert loved it with all his heart. Now he tucked his feet under the desk, ready to get up and leave.The phone rang at this moment. In other parts of the world, the phone is designed to ring in the outside office, and the secretary will pick it up to ask the purpose of the call, and ask the other party to wait for a while before transferring in.But Milford was no other place, and no one here could bear to be treated like that.If you call John Smith, you want John Smith himself to answer the phone.So that spring evening, the telephone at Buhappo's office rang impartially on Robert's mahogany and brass-panelled desk.

Later, Robert often unconsciously thought, what would happen if the phone call was a minute late? One minute, sixty seconds that are usually useless, he might have picked up the coat on the hook and poked his head to the opposite side Mr. Hasseltine's office said good-bye, and went outside, down the street in the evening sun, to go home.That would be Mr. Hasseltine answering the phone and telling the woman on the phone that he had left work.Then the woman would hang up and go find someone else.And what happened next, even if he was interested, it was just an exploration and research in the academic field. But the phone rang at this moment, and Robert picked up the receiver. "Is that Mr. Blair?" A woman's voice—a low voice, usually this kind of voice would give people a calm and confident feeling, but he felt that the woman was breathing quickly, as if in a panic. "Well, glad you're still here. I was worried that you might have left.Mr. Blair, you don't know me.My name is Marion Sharp and I live in Franchise with my mother, you know.It was the house on the Rabolo Road. "Yes, I know that house. said Blair. He had seen Marianne Sharp, as he had seen anyone in this part of Milford; it was a tall, lanky, dark woman of about forty; Wearing a bright silk scarf to accentuate her gypsy-dark skin, she would drive to town center shopping in the mornings in a battered old car with her graying, elderly mother in the back seat. The old woman looked upright and elegant, but rather dignified, as if protesting something. Mrs. Sharp's profile was like that of the painter Westler's mother; Cold and arrogant, with sharp eyes like seagulls, people can't help but think of witches. She is not an old man who makes people feel comfortable. "You don't know me," the voice continued on the phone, "but I met you in Milford, and you seemed nice, and I need a lawyer c I mean, I need it now, right here Moments. The only solicitor with whom we had dealings was in London—one firm, I should say—and it wasn't us who approached it. We only come into contact with it because we inherit a legacy.And now I'm in trouble and need legal help, and then I remember you and thought maybe you..." "If it's about your car..." Robert began to analyze. "Getting into trouble" usually has only two possibilities in the town of Milford: a court order forcing the biological father to support an illegitimate child, or a traffic violation.In Marianne Sharp's case, only the latter could be the case; but either way, the Buhapo firm has no interest in taking over.He'd turn the case over to Callie, a young lad who worked at the firm down the street; he loved court cases and was known for bailing the devil out of hell. ("Bail on release!" someone said at the Rose and Crown Hotel once. "He's better than that. He'll get us to sign a clean sheet from a real criminal.") "If it's about your car... ..." "Car?" she repeated in astonishment, as if she couldn't comprehend the meaning of that word at the moment. "Well, no, no, it's not like that. It's more serious than that, about Scotland Yard." “Scotland Yard!” To Robert Blair, a country lawyer and genteel, Scotland Yard is like a strange world, like Hollywood, or the Parachute Force, which parallels his life completely, and there is no intersection.Besides, good people like him have nothing to do with the local police, and the crime has nothing to do with him.The only way to force him to be associated with Scotland Yard was with the local police detective who played golf with him, and occasionally casually revealed his cooperation with Scotland Yard on the nineteenth hole. "I didn't murder anyone, if that's your concern." There was a hasty excuse on the phone. "The point is: Are you being treated as a murder suspect?" Whatever she was involved in was clearly Cali's kind of case.He had to send her to Cali. "No; it had nothing to do with murder. They said I was involved in a kidnapping, or abduction or something. I can't explain it clearly on the phone.Anyway, I need a lawyer right now, immediately, and..." "But, you know, I don't think you should come to me," said Robert. "I'm basically ignorant of criminal law. My firm doesn't have experience with this kind of case. What you need... " "I don't need any criminal lawyers, what I need is a friend. Someone who will stand by me and remind me when the time is right. I mean, someone who can tell me what questions I can refuse to answer and so on. No special expertise in criminal matters, does it?" "That's true, but if you go to a firm that specializes in these kinds of cases, you'll be looked after more professionally. That kind of firm is like..." "What you're trying to tell me is that you're not interested in these kinds of cases, are you?" "Oh, no, of course not," said Robert eagerly. "I just really think it's wiser if you..." "Do you know how I feel right now?" she interrupted him. "I feel like a person who fell into the river and struggled to survive, but you on the bank were coldly unwilling to extend a helping hand, but pointed to the other bank and said that it was better to go ashore." There was a moment of silence on both ends of the phone. "It's just the opposite," said Robert, "I'm giving a life-saving professional a better chance. Benjamin Carley knows more about this type of defense and has more experience..." "What! That weird little guy in the striped suit?" Her low voice rose suddenly, became hoarse, and then paused. "I'm sorry," she then replied in her original voice. "That's stupid to say. But you see, I didn't call because I thought you were sharp," ("It's true," thought Robert.) "It's because I'm in trouble and want to get out of here. Find help among my kind, and you seem to be. Mr. Blair, please come anyway. I really need a lawyer. The people of Scotland Yard are at my house now. If you think this is not you You can always take a case that you normally take, you can always pass it on to another lawyer after that, can you? It may take a few hours at most to 'take care of the client's interests'. I'm really sure it was a misunderstanding from beginning to end. Could you please help me with just this one thing?" Basically, Rob Blair thought he could do her that. He often didn't know how to say no to such reasonable requests, and she gave him the opportunity to turn things around when things got sticky.In fact, when he reflected on the whole process later, he had to admit that he hadn't even intended to refer the case to Ben Khali from the start.He actually agrees with her disparaging comment about "that weird little guy in the striped suit"; that description aside, though if one actually did something to clear suspicion, Cali's presence would be like A good opportunity given by God, but if you are wronged and involved in a trouble for no reason, then Cali's impatient character can make the party really violated and insulted. Having said that, after he put down the microphone at that time, he hoped that his appearance and the way he usually interacted with people would be serious and cold. All right. As he walked to the car parked at the Sim Lane garage, he began to examine the legal relationship involved in the "kidnapping".Was that a crime under English law? Who was she likely to kidnap? A child?Or kidnapping a child abused by their legal guardian? This is more likely.The old woman had the most religious face he had ever seen; and Marion Sharp herself seemed to be her usual prop if the stake was still allowed.Yes, this should be a charitable act in nature, but false accusations were made based on superficial observations. Lien "intent to deprive natural parent or legal guardian of guardianship"; he murmured the clause, wishing he could remember more of the law.With no articles at hand to check, he was not sure whether it was a felony, whether it was hard labor on the spot or a misdemeanor? "Abduction and detention" cases have not appeared in Buhapo Law Firm since December 1798 in the file.A last such case is that of a country squire named Resor, who, in a moment of honour, snatched young Miss Gretton from a ball held at her house, and laid her across the back of a horse in front of him. , sprinting to escape a flood disaster; the squire's intentions at the time were beyond reproach. It appeared that the mother and daughter would have to defend their actions, as the whole affair had apparently been aroused by Scotland Yard.He was somewhat surprised by Scotland Yard's involvement.Could it be that the child's parentage was so important that even the Criminal Police Headquarters had to dispatch personnel? When he arrived at Xin Lane, he was caught in a business competition abuse as usual, and this time he quickly got out. [If the reader is interested to know, according to linguists, sin (Xin Lane's Xin) - the original sin, was originally sand - the myth of sand.However, for the residents of Milford Town, there is a different explanation. Before these low-priced buildings did not exist, this alley leads directly to what the locals call "Lover's Walk", which is the origin of the original sin. ] Now in this narrow street stand two eternal enemies: A carriage house and the newest and most modern garage in town.The garages frightened the horses (the cab houses said), and the alleys were constantly clogged with hay that the cart shops kept coming and going (this was the garages' complaint, of course).In addition, the owners of the repair shop, Bill Burrow and Stanley Peters, formerly of the Engineers and the Royal Signal Corps respectively; and the old Matt Ellis of the opposite family, formerly of the Guards Dragoon Company, reprimanded them It is the representative of the culprit who ruined the reputation of the cavalry, and also insulted the so-called civilization. During the winter hunting season, Robert listened to the side of the cavalry's reputation slamming the garage; most of the time, when he needed to check his car, refill the gas, and change the oil, he only The reason to be able to listen to the Royal Signal Corps without a choice.Today the ex-corpsman of the Signal Corps wants to understand the legal difference between defamation and insult, and what is necessary to constitute defamation.Is it dishonorable to say that a man "doesn't understand the difference between nuts and acorns like a tinker with a tin can"? "No idea, Stanley. train.He waited for the cab with two fat boys and a groom driving a herd of horses to clear the street, (as Stanley said behind him: "You know what I mean!") Commercial Street. Going to the south end of the commercial street, the shops gradually become scarce, replaced by houses whose gates are directly connected to the sidewalk; further down, the residential buildings slowly recede from the road, and between the gate and the sidewalk, there is a porch with a slightly larger distance ; then, there are villa-type houses, with gardens planted with trees between the main entrance of the house and the road: finally, as if suddenly, the houses disappear and the countryside opens before the eyes. This is a country divided by different farms, the fields are surrounded by seemingly endless fences, interspersed with several houses: this is a wealthy but lonely place, and travelers may travel for miles and miles. , still can't meet a person, since the War of the Roses, this is a quiet, confident, and rigid place that has not changed. The fields enclosed by fences are one after another, and the horizon is connected to the horizon, without any protruding lines. Except for the standing telephone poles that mark the migration and change of the times. Far away on the horizon is Labolo.Millions of generations crammed together in a filthy red brick among bicycles, sidearms, tin tacks, and cranberry jam; There is a call to the green grass and earth.But the inhabitants of Milford seem to have forever surrendered to the latter in the choice of green grass and land and convenience; and the beauty of Laborough is preserved only to the west by the hills and sea, while to the north and east it is unnoticed. Nearly two miles off La Perlo Avenue, a house called The Franchise, stands next to incongruously modern phone booths isolated on the sidewalk.In the last days of the Regency, the land formerly known as the Franchise was bought and a modest white cottage was built in the middle of it, surrounded by a high solid brick wall, Where the wall faces the road, a large double iron gate with the same height as the wall is opened.It bore no resemblance to a house usually built in the country: there was no farmhouse behind it, no side door, no access to the surrounding fields.The stables existed, and according to the prevailing architecture of the time, were at the back of the house, but built on the inward side of the wall.It was so out of proportion to the rest of the country landscape, so lonely, abandoned by the roadside like an outdated children's toy.Robert remembered that the house had once belonged to an old man; but as the people of Franchise always only shopped in a village called Hanggreen on the other side of Rabolo, no one saw them in Milford Town.It was not until Marion Sharp and her mother inherited the Franchise from the old man that their morning shopping habits at Milford Town became a regular sight there. Robert wondered how long they had lived there, three? Or four? It was hardly surprising that they hadn't been accepted into Milford society yet.Take old Mrs Warren, who bought the first elm-lined cottages at the bottom of High Street about twenty-five years ago; she moved to Milford from the sea, because I believe the air here is good for her who is suffering from rheumatism.However, until now, people still call her "the lady from the sea". Besides, maybe the Sharpes and their daughters simply don't want to have that kind of dispensable social interaction with others.They are almost self-satisfied and self-satisfied.Robert had once or twice seen the Sharps on the golf course, playing with Dr. Borwick (as guests, it seemed).She can swing a long shot like a man and move her thin, tanned wrists like a pro.And these are all Robert's impressions of her. As he approached the tall double iron gates, he saw two other cars parked there.The one parked nearby was easily recognizable as the Scotland Yard police car.When Robert got out of the car, he muttered in his heart. I wonder if there is any country in the world where the police can have humble manners and unobtrusive gentleness? His eyes then fell on the farther car, which was Harlem, The car of the local detective, who was unflappable on the golf course. There were three people in the police car: the driver, a middle-aged woman and a woman who was a child or a young man in the back seat.The driver gave Robert a mild, absent-minded look, with that policeman's survey look in his eyes, and then looked away when he saw it; Robert could not see the faces of the people in the backseat. The tall iron door was tightly closed, and Robert never saw the iron door open. At this point, he tried to push it.The iron gate originally had a hollow branch design, but due to the pursuit of privacy in the Victorian era, the view from the road was completely blocked by the iron sheet installed on the inside of the iron gate to fill the original gap; The walls of the town hid everything within; so that he never saw any part of the Franchise, except the roofs and chimneys which could be seen at a distance. However, he was rather disappointed when he saw the house standing inside the wall.It does not have the characteristics of the construction era, but can be described in a very simple word: ugly.Thinking about it, it was either because it was near the end of that era when it was built, so it couldn't show the characteristics of that time, or because the builders didn't have architectural vision at all.At first glance, the builders seemed to have used simultaneous features, but had no idea what those features actually meant, so something went wrong with every part: not only were the windows off by nearly half a foot in size, but Also pretty outrageous; the width of the doorway, the height of the steps are wrong.The result of the accumulation of these mistakes is that the soft, gentle and contented atmosphere of the era that the house should contain has become a hostile and questioning stare.When Robert walked across the courtyard to the front door of the house that seemed to be repellent, he understood the association caused by this house: like a domestic dog suddenly startled by a stranger's breath, propped up its front legs, hesitating whether to attack People come or bark to repel them.The room has that defiant questioning look of "what are you doing here". The door opened before he rang the bell, and it was not the maid who appeared, but Marian Xia Jin. "I see you coming," she said, holding out her hand. "I don't want you to ring the bell, because my mother is still in her afternoon nap, and I want to have this unexpected trouble done before she wakes up. Then she won't know it happened. I really don't know how to express my gratitude for having you here. " Robert muttered something, noticing that her eyes, which he had thought to be bright gypsy blue, were actually taupe.She invited him in. As he put his hat on the table nearby, he could not help noticing that the pile of the carpet under his feet was frayed to the point where threads were showing. "The police are inside," she said, leading him through a door into the living room.Robert had wished to have a private talk with her first, to get an idea of ​​the matter, but there was no time to suggest it.It seems that's what she wants to do. Sitting on the edge of a beaded chair was Hallam, sheepish and cowardly looking.Sitting relaxed and comfortable in a good chair by the window was a lean young man from Scotland Yard; he was dressed in a well-cut suit. They stood up politely to greet the visitor, Hallam and Robert nodding to each other. "Well, you know the Hallam detective?" Marion Sharp said. "The other is Inspector Grant from Headquarters." Robert was not used to the wording of the "headquarters" and had some doubts.It sounded like she had dealt with police officers before; or was it that she simply didn't like the word "Scotland Yard"? Grant shook his hand and said, "Glad you're here, Mr. Blair. Not only For Miss Sharp, and for myself." "yourself? " "I cannot proceed with the necessary procedure without any assistance from Miss Sharp; be it friendship or jurisprudence. But of course legal assistance would be advantageous." "I understand. What are you accusing her of?" "We're not accusing her—" Grant began to explain, but Marianne interrupted him. "I was suspected of kidnapping and beating others." "Beatings?" exclaimed Robert, somewhat horrified. "Yes," she said, in a deliberately brusque tone. "Beat her until her nose was bruised and her face was bruised and purple." "she? " "A girl is sitting in a car outside the iron gate right now." "I think we'd better start from scratch," said Robert, clenching his fists secretly. "Perhaps it is better for me to explain," said Grant mildly. "That's right," Miss Sharp said, "please tell me, this is your story after all." Robert wondered if Inspector Grant had detected the sarcasm in her tone.But he also didn't understand that, in such a sneering mood, she still let the Scotland Yard detective sit in the best chair in her living room.On the phone, she was not so indifferent and sarcastic, it sounded more like half-willing and half-forced.Maybe it was the arrival of someone on her side that hardened her attitude, or maybe she just decided to get tough. "Before Easter," began Grant, with police terse, "a girl named Elizabeth Kane, who lived with her guardian near Ellsbury, Her married aunt's house in the village of Menskew on the outskirts of Lowe. She came by bus because the bus from London to Raplelo would stop at Ellsbury, pass through Menskew, and then reach the terminus. at Labolo; so she could get off at Mens Hill, and walk about three minutes to her aunt's house. Otherwise, she would have to take the train to Labolo+ and back again. A week later, her The guardians, the Wuyins, had received a postcard from her saying she had enjoyed her holiday and hoped to stay longer. They assumed she wanted to spend the remaining three weeks of school holidays there. Later, she didn't come home the day before school started, and they simply thought she was lazy because she was playful, so they wrote a letter to her aunt, asking to send the girl home.And Aunt Zhang wrote back, saying that she had left for Aylesbury two weeks ago; the reply was sent by post, not by telephone or telegram; couple hands.So when they reported it to the police, the girl had been missing for three weeks.The police immediately investigated.Just then, the girl appeared.She came home to Ellsbury one evening wearing nothing but a single dress and a pair of shoes, looking terribly tired. " "How old is the girl?" "Fifteen, almost sixteen." He paused to see if Robert had any other problems, then continued. (On the one hand, Robert is grateful for the detective's thoughtfulness, but on the other hand, he feels that all this is as formal as the police car parked outside the iron gate, which is very similar.) "She said she was 'kidnapped' by a car , which was the only information that could be obtained from her during the first two days. She fell into a kind of semi-comatose state. When she came out of the semi-consciousness for nearly forty-eight hours, they began to understand the whole story." "them? " "The Uyins. Of course the police needed the information but when the police were there, she became hysterical so they only got secondhand information from the Uyins. She said that when she was waiting at the intersection in Menskew to go home A car with two women pulled up on the side of the road. The younger woman who was driving asked her if she was waiting for the bus and said they could give her a ride." "Is that girl waiting for the bus alone?" "yes." "Why? Has no one sent her?" “她姑父上班去了，姑姑则被邀请当一个受洗婴儿的教母。”再一次，探长停下等罗勃可有进一步的问题。“那女孩回答说她正在等开往伦敦的公车，那两名妇人就告诉她那班车已经开走了。因为女孩儿是在匆促中赶到路口等车的，加之她的手表并不准确，所以她相信了。事实上，在那辆汽车来到之前，她就已经开始焦急地想她可能错过那班公车。她烦恼起来，那时已近下午四点，开始下雨，天色也渐渐转黑。两名妇人非常同情她的处境，建议载她一程到一个什么地方，女孩儿不记得那个地名，她们说她可以在那地方搭上半小时后开往伦敦的公车。她满怀感激地接受了；于是弯身进了那辆车，跟年纪较大的妇人坐在后座。” 一幅景象滑入罗勃脑海：总是笔直坐在后座，满脸严肃的夏普老太太。他瞧了玛莉安·夏普一眼，后者一脸平静。她当然已经听过这个故事了。 “雨打糊了车窗，同时她在车内向老妇人解释她的状况，所以没有留意车开到哪儿了。当她终于抬头注意到窗外的景致时，天色已几乎全黑。她发现她们似乎已经开了很久很远。她再一次跟她们道谢，说她们真是太亲切和善了．为她开这么远的路程；这时那年轻的妇人，在车子行驶后第一次开口说，只是顺路而已。年轻妇人继续说，女孩儿还有时间在她们家喝杯热咖啡，然后再到等车的地方。女孩儿有些迟疑，可是年轻妇人坚持说与其在雨中等上二十分钟，不如在一个温暖干燥的地方休息；女孩儿同意了。车终于停下，年轻妇人下车，打开一扇女孩儿认为是通车道的门，然后车子驶到一栋房子前，而当时天色太暗，女孩儿无法看清房子的样子。 接着她被带到一问宽敞的厨房……” “一间厨房? ”罗勃重复着。 “是的，一间厨房。老妇人倒了些冷咖啡在炉子上加热．年轻妇人则准备三明治。女孩儿说是那种只用一片吐司上面放些熏肉什么的那种。” “瑞典自助餐式的。” “正是。当她们吃喝着时，年轻妇人告诉她，她们正缺一名女仆，问她是否愿意为她们工作一段时间。她说那不可能。她们尝试说服她，而她坚持那不是她想做的工作。当她这么说着时，她们开始变了脸色。接着她们强调她至少应该到楼上看看她们为她准备的房间，她那时有着酒醉晕眩的感觉，糊里糊涂地答应去看房间。 她后来转述这段时，说她只记得往楼上走去，第一道楼梯铺着地毯，第二道楼梯根据她的说法是脚下踩着硬邦邦的平面，然后下一件她记得的事，是她在早上晨光中醒来，发现她身处一个四壁萧然的小阁楼里，躺在一张脚下装着滑轮的矮床上。她全身只剩下衬衣衬裙，而且周围看不到她的衣服。 门是上锁的，小型圆窗打不开。一切迹象——““圆形窗户! ”罗勃不安地说。 玛莉安回答。“是的，”她说，颇有含意的，“一扇在屋顶上的圆窗。” 罗勃无法就这点做任何适当的评论，因为在数分钟前他来到这房屋时，他就觉得那扇屋顶上的小圆窗的位置太不恰当。格兰特习惯性地停顿一会儿，继续说道： “稍后，较年轻的妇人端着一碗粥出现，女孩儿拒绝吃，并要求她们归还她的衣物，让她离开。妇人仅说当她饿极了自然会吃，就放下粥离开了。直到傍晚，那妇人才再次出现，这回她端着盛着茶和新鲜蛋糕的托盘，又劝她接受女仆的工作。女孩儿又一次拒绝了。接着数天，根据女孩儿的说法，两名妇人交相威胁利诱她。后来女孩儿决定打破那扇小圆窗，爬到围着矮墙的屋顶上，要试着引起过往行人或开货车的贩售商人注意。她唯一可用的工具是一把椅子。可是当她用椅子击打窗户时，却引来了那年轻妇人，而她只是在窗玻璃上造成些裂缝。妇人自女孩儿手中夺走那张椅子，并用它殴打女孩儿，直到筋疲力竭，然后带着椅子离开。女孩儿以为那处罚结束了，可不然，不久之后，那妇人带着一条女孩儿认为是狗鞭似的东西回到小阁楼，开始抽打她，直到女孩儿晕厥过去。隔一日，年纪大的妇人带来一堆床单，说倘若她不想去工作，那就缝一些东西，并且警告她，不缝就没有东西吃。可是女孩儿并不会缝制，所以她没有获得食物。再隔一天，她被威吓说如果她不缝制将再受鞭打。她只好做了一些，才被允许吃一点汤食类的东西。这情形延续了几天，而如果她缝制得不够好，就被殴打或罚没东西吃。然后有一天傍晚，老妇人端来一碗汤食，离开时没有锁上门。女孩儿等着，以为那是一个陷阱，会换来一阵毒打；可是等了一会儿，一直没有动静；于是她打开门，外面没有一点声响，她顺着没有铺地毯的楼梯往下跑。到了楼梯的转角，她听到两个妇人在客厅说话。她悄悄地爬下楼梯，冲到大门。大门也没锁，她成功地跑到屋外，消失在黑夜里。” “穿着她的衬衣衬裙? ”罗勃问。 “我忘了提到她的衬衣衬裙早换成便装了。阁楼里没有暖气，如果只穿衬衣衬裙的话，她可能早冻死了。” “如果她真在阁楼上的话。”罗勃纠正说。 “是的，如你所言，如果她在阁楼的话，”探长顺势同意着。接着跳过他已成习惯的停顿继续道：“她不太记得以后发生的事。她说，她在黑暗中跑了好长一段路。那是在一条大马路上，而当时没有其他车辆，也没有遇到任何人。然后，在一条主要道路上，一辆卡车司机在他的车头灯前发现了她，停下来载了她一程。她感到非常疲倦而睡着了。后来，是被叫她下车的摇动惊醒的。卡车司机嘲笑她说她像没有了填充物的填充娃娃。那时似乎仍是晚上。 卡车司机说这是她说要到的地方，放下她，就把卡车开走了。过了一会儿，她才认清所在的位置。那是距她家不到两英里的地方。她听到什么地方的钟敲了十一下。不多会儿，在午夜之前，她回到家。