Chapter 3 third chapter

I couldn't get out of here, so I saw what happened next. Paris became the paradise of the conquerors, and the Germans lived contentedly and freely in this land.I've seen soldiers "purchasing" in shops with worthless military currency, no one dared to say "no"; they used bayonets to invite girls on dates, fuck them, and slap their ass and laugh Departures; the heroes of the Gauls were torn down, statues of German celebrities were erected, and the man with the ridiculous mustache stared viciously at the passing people outside many buildings... In less than a month, the city became even unknown to me.

I don't have much energy to mourn it though, because I -- was being watched. This is something I have seen very clearly in the past few days: since I knew that I had become a "control figure" in the German army and the French police, every time I went out, I was honored to see a few Gestapo behind me; His arrogance and arrogance can hardly be concealed even in plain clothes. But it was even worse when I learned that Marisa was treated the same way. Sure enough, we will not easily escape his clutches. Yes, I can tell the mastermind of all this in one breath--Captain Rostock von Portman, it is he!Because I saw him again the day after I was told I couldn't leave Paris.

It was a sunny morning... After telling Marisa and her mother the bad news, they all fell into a terrible panic. I tried my best to comfort them, because control does not mean imprisonment, as long as they "behave" in the future, they will be safe.No sooner had I got up than I had got up from a restless night, exhausted by words, when Miss Doriot, frightened, came to announce an unexpected visitor. Sitting on the sofa in the living room is the person I least want to see, wearing a black military uniform, with a dazzling Iron Cross and a silver wounded medal on the chest, the hat is on the coffee table, and the hair is like gold in the morning light Dazzling, blue eyes looked at me calmly, and there was even a smile on the corner of his mouth.

"Good morning, Captain Portman." I greeted coldly, "Sorry, I haven't had a ball for a long time, it's a waste of you to dress so formally." The devil's smile grew stronger, but he just waved his hand lightly, and didn't mind my sarcasm: "No, I'm just showing you a little courtesy. I heard that you are a very...refined person." "Tell me," I hate to spend time with this kind of person, "what's the matter with you." "Apology." He suddenly looked at me very seriously, "I want to say sorry to you for my rudeness that day. It was a misunderstanding. Now that I figure it out, I... made some mistakes."

"Oh, Lord," I laughed unceremoniously, "very good, Mr. Captain, you are very merciful. Then may I ask you to issue a pass at once. I am going to visit my mother." "Sorry, you can't go anywhere." I knew it a long time ago——I snorted through my teeth: "You really are a hypocrite!" Miss Dorio gasped behind her, but Captain Portman smiled softly. "Let me tell you the truth, Mr. Earl, in fact, I have taken care of them. Don't let you have the opportunity to go farther." It took a lot of effort to keep my fist from hitting his face.

"Why? I'm not your prisoner of war!" "You are not, but you are a dangerous person! I want to remind you that you'd better be obedient here and don't make any more mistakes. If your humanitarian spirit is too rampant, it will be very dangerous for you and your loved ones." "You threatened me?" "My French is pretty standard, it's a 'reminder'." "What do you really want? Do you want money? Or do you dislike me at all? Just say it!" "Oh, your temper is really not very good, Mr. Earl." He frowned slightly, "I remember that musicians are very reserved."

I must end this conversation immediately! "Mr. Captain," I stood up with a dark face, "If there is nothing else, please go back, I have to practice the piano." There could no longer be any pretense of peace in the drawing-room, and poor Miss Doriot was on the verge of fainting. Captain Portman looked at me with enigmatic eyes for a while, then raised his eyebrows, put on his hat squarely, and walked out of the living room slowly.It's just that at the moment when the glass door was opened, I could clearly see a kind of undisguised pride and excitement in his eyes.

What a nasty fellow! War is scary, but everyone has to get on with life. I can't get rid of the "tail" that follows me at any time, so I have to reduce the number of times I go out.Fortunately, they did nothing but monitor accidents.I asked Marisa to have as little contact with me as possible, for fear that they would have more doubts about her; but Simon and Laffon often came to see me, and I played some light things for them in the piano room, and at the same time asked about people outside. Condition. "Everything is recovering." Simon said in a helpless tone, "No matter what, society still needs policemen, firefighters, doctors, workers, bankers, lawyers... and other walks of life. The only difference is that these You have to listen to the Germans at work."

I swipe my fingers across the keyboard, and the tone of "Trout" is always so moderate and even a little leisurely, and even my expression seems not so troubled: "The conqueror needs to whitewash the peace, this It’s also in the interests of the majority.” "Including us." Simon smiled self-deprecatingly, "After all, we are still living at gunpoint." Lafon didn't have such deep feelings as him, but he was always worried about my recent situation, "How are you doing, Chart? They haven't left yet?" "It's taken root around here." I didn't want to think about it at all. "As long as I don't move, they can squat there like a few big tree stumps. But Marisa said that the number of spies around her has decreased, and sometimes even There will be no movement all day."

"That's also good news." "I hope so." I'm not as optimistic as he is. Who knows what's going on in the head of the respected Captain Portman? "What are you going to do, Chart?" Simon looked at me seriously. I honestly don't know what to do, and now everything is at a standstill, and the only thing I can do seems to be to wait - but wait for what?Wait for him to let me go, wait for everything to recover, or wait for the war to end? "I want to keep it like this; of course, I mean if there are no accidents. But I still want to get all the cash in the bank and the contents of the valuables, and the shops are empty now. The way the Germans 'buy', maybe the daily supply in Paris will start to run short soon... and take over Marisa, I heard that the big Jewish house near her home was occupied by the Germans, I Worried it's not safe there."

Simon and Laffont agreed, but disagreed with my passivity: "If they stay like this all the time, don't you stay in the house all the time?" "Yes, it should be done more normally, maybe just like before." Laffont smiled and thought for a while, "How about going to the cafe on Marceau Boulevard? I heard that Mr. René has reopened, And put red, white and blue flowers." "There is also a violin performance in the afternoon, and Sofia always plays the Marseillaise." "Good girl!" I couldn't help laughing too. Everything is cozy on a sunny afternoon. I sat on the open-air seat of the "Captain" cafe and sipped a cup of Nanshan, while Simon and Lafon ordered the same French milk coffee.It is facing the street, and you can see the straight avenue and the lush plane trees extending from behind us to the corner of the street. The sun shines through the awning and becomes soft and lovely. The red, white and blue colors in the center of each table are shrouded in faint brilliance. The three-color pansies make them seem so holy indistinctly. Mr. Marler's beard is neatly trimmed, and his snow-white shirt, black bow tie and Scottish plaid apron are his eternal etiquette. When he refills my coffee, he always smiles and bows his head, asking One sentence: "How does it taste, Mr. Earl?" "Excellent, only you can brew coffee like this." After I answered as usual, his beautiful beard turned up, and he smiled with his mouth open, but then frowned: "Maybe you will have a hard time drinking coffee like this in the near future, all of our things depend on damn ration card." He returned to the counter with hidden anger. Simon and Laffont told me that this stubborn old man hated the German soldiers patrolling the street recently, and when they came, he replaced the record in the gramophone with "Eroica" and dumped it on the alcohol lamp Brewed coffee. "Didn't the Germans bother him?" I worried. "They have a bad temper." "At least not yet," Simon shrugged. "It can be seen that they want to pretend to be peaceful in France, and they just sneer at this small act of resistance." It looked like this, less than fifty meters away from us, two German soldiers with rifles were looking at us and whispering, but there was no movement.It is undeniable that compared with the initial period, they have become more polite, like neighbors who often come to visit, and even many French people are gradually relieved. "They look honest, don't they?" Laffont said sarcastically, "or just put on the air that best reflects the superiority of the occupier!" "You are so right!" A strange voice suddenly broke in from the side without warning. We were taken aback, and when we turned our heads, we saw a man in a brown top hat sitting at the next table smiling at us. I felt all the muscles in my body tense up, but Simon exclaimed in surprise: "Mr. Daisy, my God, why are you here!" He walked over to hold the man's hand affectionately, greeted him politely, and then pulled him over: "Chart, Lafon, you must not have recognized Mr. Raymond Deiss, have you? Charles Special, don't tell me you forgot who published your "Daisy" four years ago." Oh yes, I remembered.This medium-sized, bearded man was the most famous music publisher in France and was a big promoter of my first opera. "Hello." I slightly lowered my head in embarrassment—he is fat and has a beard, but I didn't recognize him at all! "It's a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur the Count." He didn't mind my "ungratefulness." "I've been wanting to talk to you about the Madame de Valencia." I gently told him that in its current form nothing was possible. "Do you think the war is over? Like everyone else, do you think the Germans won the final victory?" His eyes were the color of fire! "No! Of course not!" Laffon exclaimed impulsively, "This is the idea of ​​traitors! We are not Raigor!" The rich businessman showed a happy expression, but lowered his voice: "Please believe me, I am speaking based on a full understanding of the facts, and I tell you that France is not over. One day we will turn the tables into victory... ...for France is not fighting alone! It is not alone...Therefore, no matter what happens, the flames of French resistance should not be extinguished, nor will they be extinguished..." The faces of the three of us turned pale at once—yes, we have heard this passage, no, it should be said that every backbone French has heard it: General de Gaulle on the British Radio on June 18 Speech delivered, manifesto of the underground resistance movement! I clenched my fist unconsciously, and glanced at the enemy opposite from the corner of my eye; they still looked so absent-minded! Mr. Deiss must have joined the Resistance too, and is running for it!For the first time, I looked at the man in front of me with admiration. He is by no means a profit-seeking businessman now, but a brave warrior! Lafon and I looked at each other and smiled at the same time. "Do you need cooperation, Mr. Daisy?" I took out a paper and pen and left my address and phone number. "If you think it is necessary, welcome to my home to discuss in detail." Simon and Lafon also handed out their business cards. A rosy glow appeared on the face of the publisher, he carefully put the papers into his pocket, and patted them outside twice: "Thank you so much, gentlemen, you are all real French. Oh, Earl, please believe me, your work will be published soon, and our cooperation this time will be as pleasant as last time." I believe that many people would not reject him, but his tone made us feel very awkward. "Oh, by the way, gentlemen, next week Madame Manet will be giving a ball--at the great mansion in the beautiful Rue Maurice Barres, yes, in the house with a view of the Bois de Boulogne." — Count, you are a well-known figure in the Parisian music world, and Mr. Luchel and Mr. Mabel Westy, you are important theater managers, you will definitely be invited, I hope I can see you again then, We can talk safely." "Madame Manet?" I have never had any friendship with this arty courtesan, "is she going to have a dance at this time?" "For her new lover, a general from the German General Staff I heard, all the Germanites will be there, and famous people in French cultural circles - I guess to test our reaction, the Gestapo there is better than the outside Much less." So it is! I thought about it, and decided to temporarily ease the conflict between myself and the occupier on the surface, so that Marisa and I might be able to obtain a relaxed environment: "Okay, Mr. Dess, if we really accept the invitation, That will definitely go." The daily supply in Paris is clearly in trouble, edible commodities are pitifully scarce, grease has basically disappeared, potatoes and pork are dwindling from my table; Miss Doriot often waits for hours with a ration card for a little supper team. In order to raise more cash to survive this difficult time, Marisa's parents sold the house, took Joseph to live in the outer suburbs of Paris, and handed over their daughter to me with peace of mind. "You'll take good care of her, won't you, Monsieur Earl?" The spectacled old schoolmaster looked at me trustingly. "We think she might be better off with you, but of course it's rude to say so." "Not at all, Mr. Guied." I was actually very happy, "I am Marisa's fiancé, and this is also my responsibility." "We very much hope that you will get married as soon as possible, but the current situation is hard to say. If possible, I hope that you will hold the wedding in Paris instead of going back to Armand Manor." "I think maybe this is the only way to do it now, but I have to pick up my mother." I feel that delaying it is not good for anyone, and I should make up my mind at this time. He nodded reassuringly, chatted with me a few more words, and got up to leave. So Marisa lived next to me, with her unusually simple luggage. She told me that another reason why her father wanted to leave downtown Paris was that he was worried that Joseph would cause trouble. Recently, he and his classmates were always picking on the German soldiers, making faces at them, throwing stones and so on. "It's bound to go wrong!" she said, frowning. I recalled the day when the boy and a group of young men provoked the Germans; in fact, the invaders had already paid some price in the few months they were stationed here - they were stabbed in the alley, their heads were smashed open, Getting strangled in a porn establishment...I believe Joseph did the same thing. Mr. Guied's choice was correct. After all, he was only 17 years old, but once the Germans found out, they didn't care about it. "Don't worry, he'll be calmer in the country." My words reassured Marisa, and she settled down peacefully. In the following days, I was surprised to find that she, who was originally quiet and quiet, bravely took on the duties of a housewife, organized the daily housework in my house, and even made a house with pitifully few materials. Miss Dorio was full of praise for the delicious lunch and dinner.This may be the difference between a commoner girl and a rich lady. Even though they have the same beauty, the former shows great courage and talent in the face of difficulties.Again, I'm glad I wasn't blinded by wealth and pedigree, and my mother was obviously a very sensible person. This morning, I stayed in the piano room and played the wonderful "Moonlight", and Marisa quietly put her head on the piano cover and listened.This is her favorite piano piece, and it is also my most proficient; it is specially practiced for her. "This is your characteristic, Chart." She looked at my finger pressing the last key, and smiled softly, "Do you know what it is?" I tilted my head with a curious expression. "When I listen to you play "Moonlight", I can feel loved..." "Oh, it seems that I usually don't do enough." "Honey, you're playing dumb," she giggled, "you know I don't mean it." "Then let's be clear, honey, your fiancé is not a smart person." There was a rare clarity in her eyes: "You are a very gentle person, Charlotte, very gentle, and you give all your affection to everyone you love, although sometimes you are impulsive and don't speak You're polite, but no one resents you for it, you should know it's because you're so outspoken and likable and kind. And of course I love you all the more for that." My face turned slightly red, and her words made me feel a sweetness that I had never felt before. "I love you so much, Marisa." "me too……" The last sound dies between our lips. A moment later a knock on the door separated us, and Miss Doriot came in with a letter: "An invitation, Monsieur Count." She handed me this pale yellow folded card, and I saw the flamboyant curlicue "M"— Mrs. Manet actually thought of me, and I gave a wry smile and put it in my pocket; at least I promised Mr. Deiss would go, and it was for Marisa in the end.