Chapter 4 Chapter Four

I went to the dance on foot. Maurice Barres Avenue is exactly an hour's journey from where I live.But I never intended to let Pierre drive, for one simple reason—out of gas! Fuel in Paris has long since become very scarce, the private car movement has been eradicated so thoroughly that many civilian cars have run out of fuel before being confiscated, and although I did not lose my car, it has accumulated a lot of dust on the roof .Suddenly, there are many more people walking "fitness" on the streets than before the war, and the most convenient and quickest means of transportation is bicycles.

Under Marisa's persuasion, I reluctantly put on a decent dress, then put on a gray trench coat and covered my head with a hat.This attire was inconspicuous under the brilliant light, so when I came to Madame Manet's mansion, if I hadn't taken out an invitation card, the doorman would have refused to let me in. While the snobbish guy was looking at the piece of paper with a serious face, a long line of guests speaking ugly foreign languages ​​got out of the cars outside the gate, one of them was tall, with blond hair exposed in the bright Under the incandescent light, when his blue eyes looked at me, he even slightly nodded at me.

Lord, why do I keep seeing him? Captain Rostock von Portman is still wearing his neat uniform today, the all-black tight jacket outlines his sculptural figure, a pair of shiny standard boots are on his strong and powerful legs, and he holds his big-brimmed hat in his right hand , the hat strap made of aluminum wire is shiny.I think if I can ignore the ugly swastika on his armband, then I will also express my sincere admiration for his appearance. I ignored his gaze, turned around, and walked quickly into the magnificent hall. The ball was arranged extravagantly. The spacious hall was filled with the most gorgeous flowers and women. The orchestra was playing a gentle minuet in the southeast corner. Heaps of champagne and meat products that are in short supply, butter slathered on bread, and "rare" caviar, ham... I can't find any signs of shortage here.

Holding a glass of brandy, I shrunk in the corner and looked coldly at the guests who greeted each other. There were arrogant conquerors, humble caterers, and some were as powerless as I was willing to stay out of it.I pray that no one comes to talk to me, I just want to see Simon, Laffont and Mr. Deiss, say hello and hurry back. But obviously this is my wishful thinking, I have never seen the two friends, and the sociable hostess will not neglect every guest present. "Oh, my God! Look who I saw?" When this delicate female voice sounded in my ears, I couldn't help but sigh in my heart.

"God, it's you! Count Nordova, I'm so honored!" The slender Mrs. Manet appeared in front of me with a look of surprise. Diamond jewelry is dangling, and a huge ostrich feather fan is in his hand. "Hello, ma'am." I squeezed out a wry smile, "Thank you for your invitation." "Oh, oh, don't say that, it's an honor for you to come." Her brown eyes were full of charm. "I heard that you have rarely appeared on social occasions since you got engaged. Why, is Miss Guiad so attractive?" "I just want to spend more time with her." This annoying woman!

"Oh, your words really hurt me!" she giggled, covering her mouth with her fan, "do you know that you made a lot of young girls in Paris cry when you were engaged, and you are so gentle and kind." It's really hard to find a talented handsome man, in fact, even I have always admired you..." "I'm so sorry, ma'am." I felt a pang in my stomach. This very unpleasant conversation even went on for quite a while, with this hypocritical slut complimenting me and inquiring about my "new work" when I knew she was just trying to get me into her bed too , and then boast to others that he has another good guest.

My face was getting colder and colder, and finally I didn't bother to say anything. She smiled awkwardly, walked away very tactfully, and faced a group of German generals with their belly full. I change to a glass of wine and start walking around the dance floor looking for my friends.I remember that Mr. Deiss seemed to want to use this ball to tell me something, but it is not easy to find him immediately among the hundred and ten people.Fortunately, as soon as I came to the place near the balcony, an enthusiastic figure saw me first and walked over quickly. "I was looking for you, Monsieur Earl." The publisher happily shook my hand. "I guess you must have been here long ago."

"Go early and come back early, my fiancée told me." He laughed comically: "Yes, yes, it should be. Would you mind going over there and chatting with us?" He asked, pointing to the gentlemen by the window. "Of course." I nodded. Most of those people I have met or heard of, they are intellectuals who rarely appear on such occasions, although they are not radical patriots, they all hate Germans and express themselves without fear attitude towards the occupying forces. "We have some small cooperation intentions. I wonder if you are also interested in participating?" Mr. Daisy smiled, but I was very worried. Although the people here are all guests invited by Mrs. Manet, who is there? Can you guarantee there isn't a Gestapo in a tuxedo inside?

However, these gentlemen are cautious, they only vaguely say that it is a very useful investment for France, in terms of "publishing", of course, I speculate that it may be a newspaper of the underground resistance organization , so he generously expressed his willingness to invest in cash. As for the profit, it can be calculated after the "total victory". Mr. Deiss was delighted to have so many "partners", and he proposed a toast: "For your courage...and our France!" The last sentence was very low, but everyone agreed in unison. After the sound of tinkling glass, Mr. Hokme, who was opposite me, suddenly stopped what he was doing, and looked at me with a strange expression—no, he should be looking behind me.

An ominous premonition suddenly rose from the bottom of my heart. I turned my head and saw Captain Portman walking towards me. "What are you talking about, gentlemen?" He was polite, with a smile on his face. "Just chatting about music, Captain." I took him up and gave Mr. Deiss a quick wink. He immediately changed into the inherent smiling face of a businessman: "Hehe, it should be Mr. Earl who taught us a little about the appreciation of elegant art, but we don't know anything about music..." "No, no!" Captain Portman shook his head. "I think everyone has their own favorite music. No matter who it is, the Führer likes Beethoven and Wagner very much. What about you, Earl?"

"A lot..." I'm not interested in talking to him about stuff on the staves here. "Oh, that's great, I was just trying to talk to you." He didn't seem to have heard our conversation. Mr. Daiss looked at me, and then at the people behind him. He didn't understand what the SS meant for a while. My heart moved, and I walked slowly in another direction: "In this case, Captain, please tell me what kind of works you admire, maybe we have the same opinion..." "Valde bene! (Note: Latin, great.)" He glanced at the person next to him as if unconsciously, and followed my footsteps. Mr. Deiss is indeed a good businessman who seized the opportunity. He quickly and naturally let these friends slowly disperse and mix into the crowded dance floor. I let go of half of my hanging heart, and finally looked squarely at the man in front of me. In fact, the words that come out of his beautifully shaped lips are also beautiful. For example, when he talked about his love of Bach's "Brandenburg Concerto", those insightful insights even I can't refute; In the Baroque period, it was skillful organ or ancient keyboard music with fugue episodes; he knew that Chopin's four scherzos were independent piano instrumental music... What I didn't expect was that this kind of person would also have a gentle time-from him In terms of taste, it is really far better than some "critics", as well as the hostess tonight. In fact, his conversation was not rude, and he didn't even utter a dirty word during that interrogation; he must be well educated if he could use Latin; Captain, to be able to attend this dance hosted by the high-level officials, what is his background? "I'm sorry, Captain Portman." I couldn't help being curious, "Did this knowledge come from your family? Judging from your surname, you should also be a nobleman." "No!" He stroked the strands of blond hair with his slender fingers, "You are wrong, Earl! There is no such thing in Germany!" This is a mocking tone, with a little cynicism, I looked at this rigorously trained Third Reich soldier with slightly surprised eyes. "What is that expression on your face, my lord, do you think that the ancient traditions of all countries will be well preserved, or do you think that everyone with old blood will be proud of it?" "That was not what I meant." "Then my origin should not be the object of your attention. I would rather you pay attention to me." He seemed to be trying to be friendly to me. I don't think I'd be friends with him after what happened - even though he's really good at music. "Are you holding a grudge?" My silence made him laugh again. I thought he was mocking me, and his face suddenly became very gloomy—I almost forgot his identity because of his cultural accomplishment: after all, he is a murderer without blinking an eye! The atmosphere immediately cooled down again. Anyway, Mr. Daisy is safe. I drank the wine in the glass in one go, and decided to end the shaming at the moment. "Well, Mr. Captain, I have a little business--" Before I finished speaking, he suddenly grabbed my arm, "Listen, it's a waltz!" The band just changed a tune, but I think his look is too weird, "Yes, yes. It's the waltz of flowers from The Nutcracker." "Ah," he nodded, looking at me eagerly, "would you like to dance with me?" I thought there was something wrong with my ears: "Captain, you're kidding—" Before he finished speaking, the wine glass in his hand was taken away, his left hand was firmly grasped, and a powerful iron hoop was attached to his waist.In a moment of astonishment, I slid onto the dance floor before I knew what was going on. It seemed as if I heard the sound of some people gasping for air, one after another surprised faces passed by me, I moved mechanically a few times before I realized that I was being held tightly in his arms by him, and it was still a woman pose. There was a buzzing sound in his head, and a surge of anger rushed into his heart!I tried my best to push him away, but the big hand on my waist didn't move at all, as if pushing an iron plate!I raised my head abruptly, and realized that I had never seen his eyes so closely before. At this moment, those sapphire eyes were full of mocking and teasing expressions—— The damn guy, he's humiliating me! I kicked him hard on the leg with all my strength, his brow furrowed, and he finally let go! Our tense atmosphere stopped the men and women on the dance floor, and a small circle was automatically separated.I stood in the middle, shaking with rage, and would have thrown my white glove in his face without hesitation if I could. This shameless bastard looked at me with an innocent face, and slightly moved his left leg that was kicked by me: "What's the matter, Mr. Earl, can I dance well?" I took a glass of wine and poured it on his face as an answer. A woman's exclamation immediately sounded around! "Shalt!" A familiar voice brought back my reason. Simon was anxiously squeezed out of the crowd and walked to my side, "Calm down, for God's sake!" He squeezed my clenched fist tightly! At this time, everyone's attention was on this side, and even the band stopped playing!The dance party became a bit chaotic, this episode made the guests a little uneasy, sparks seemed to be ignited in the air! Lafon, who came later, also found us. Together with Simon, he dragged me out of this hall, preventing my next impulsive behavior! I couldn't hear what they were saying at all. I only saw Captain Portman standing where he was, sliding his fingers over the wine on his face, and slowly putting it into his mouth, but his deep eyes kept staring at him. with me... I think he is a poisonous snake at the moment! "Fuck! Bastard! Bastard! The son of a bitch deserves hell!" I tore off my tie and leaned against a row of iron railings, panting heavily, feeling a pain in my forehead. "Calm down, Chart!" Simon followed me for two blocks, sweat dripping down his slender face. "Calm down? Which man can bear this kind of insult?" I held down my messy black hair and growled loudly, "That dirty German pig! He let everyone know that I was hugged by him like a woman today in my arms! This disgusting piece of trash!" God, my mother will pass out if she hears my swear words tonight! Laffon reached out and patted me on the shoulder: "Don't be like this, Schalte, you are too impulsive! There are many Germans there, and any attack you make may cause disaster!" "Yeah, you won't get any advantage there! We originally planned to find you and Mr. Daisy and leave, but we didn't expect this kind of thing to happen to you!" They also looked a little embarrassed, their collars were loosened, their skin was sweating, and their faces were flushed. I restrained my anger slightly, and nodded gratefully at them: "...I'm sorry..." As if this sentence was redundant, Laffon waved his hand impatiently, while Simon turned his head with the corners of his lips curled up. But thinking about what happened ten minutes ago, I still feel a blockage in my heart: "I won't just let it go!" "Who is that guy, Shalt?" Simon asked cautiously, "You seem to know each other?" "That's God's punishment!" I spat bitterly, "He is Captain Rostock von Portman, the murderer who killed Armand and Professor Sorel!" I heard my friends shouting in unison!Simon's face also became very gloomy: "It turned out to be him!" "You are being targeted by him, Chart! He is playing tricks on you!" Laffon became nervous, "He did it on purpose!" "Of course, of course! I knew he wasn't going to let me go that easily!" You could tell from the fact that he stopped me from leaving Paris, this guy wanted to play with the mouse in a cage! "So tonight he did this to annoy you!" Simon worriedly analyzed, "You can't fight him! You can't fight him! He's an occupying force, but you're unarmed!" If you let me bear this breath, it is better to let me die! Laffon looked at Simon a little helplessly, he knew it was useless to persuade me at this time, and the person next to him sighed and put his hand on my shoulder. "You're so proud, Chart, that's probably why he's interested! He's this kind of person, I can see it in his eyes!" Simon looked straight at me, "Promise me tomorrow Don't do anything, think of Marisa, you can't make her worry!" This warm name slightly calmed my chaotic heartbeat, I held down that hand, and reluctantly nodded. Laffont breathed a sigh of relief, punched my chest, and grinned. I straightened up, straightened my hair and clothes, and walked slowly home with them. It was eleven o'clock at night when I sat down in the living room. Marisa and Miss Dorio were waiting for me, and there was hot brewed coffee on the table. Simon and Lafon laughed and answered their anxious questions, covered up the embarrassing experience for me, and then refused my request to stay, insisting that they could go back together.We exchanged glances tacitly, and Laffont told me to "be careful". "What's the matter, Chartres?" Marisa called me when I was about to go back to the room, and there was a little uncertainty in her soft blue eyes. Great satisfaction, is there something hiding from me?" I've heard people say that a woman's intuition is a terrible ability, and now it seems to be true. I really didn't want her to know this, so I avoided her gaze more or less, but it didn't seem to be very effective, this careful girl quickly understood my thoughts. "You're overthinking, dear." I smiled and kissed her forehead, "It's just that I met a very annoying guy at the dance, it's not a big deal." "Is it a German?" I snorted unnaturally: "There are a lot of Germans at the ball..." "Don't put me off, Chart." She put her hand on my chest, "You know I'm worried about you!" "Yes, it's a German," I put on a nonchalant expression, "He...maybe he doesn't like the way I look, because I'm more handsome than him!" "What did he do?" "Just a little verbal friction." Marisa's eyes filled with fear again: "Oh, Chart..." "Come on, girl!" I took her into my arms. "It'll be all right, really, really! I didn't make him angry at all, don't worry, I'll be all right!" I hope so, but I know it's not over, maybe it's just beginning.