追憶似水年華

I need to possess Mrs. De Stemaria: For a few days, my desire has been constantly imagining the joy of possessing her. I can only imagine this happiness in my mind. It can't be any other happiness, because happiness is just the realization of an anticipatory desire, which is not unchanged, but varies with the infinite combination of dreams, the contingency of memory, the state of sexual desire and the order of satisfying sexual desire. When the last desire | hope is satisfied, it will be calm. Only when the disappointment after the desire | hope is satisfied is somewhat forgotten, will there be a new desire | hope. I've left the avenue of general desire and taken a path of special desire; if I want to date another woman, I have to go back to the road from a distant place and take another path. Having Mrs. De Stemaria on an island in Bronilin Park (where I've asked her to have dinner) is the joy I've always dreamed of. I eat on the island, and without Mrs. De Stemaria's company, happiness will naturally vanish; but when I eat elsewhere, even with her company, happiness will be greatly diminished. Moreover, what attitude to imagine happiness is a prerequisite for choosing a woman and the right one. Attitude decides what kind of woman to choose and what place to choose; for this reason, in our changeable minds, such women will alternate, such scenic spots, such rooms, and in the other weeks, we will disdain them. Women are the product of our attitudes. There is a woman who will never make an appointment without a suitable big bed. With a big bed, we can lie down beside them and get peace; another woman, if you have an ulterior intention; if you want to touch her, you must be in a place where the leaves are fluttering with the wind and the water is surrounded by night, because they themselves are as light as leaves. As elusive as water. Of course, long before I received the letter from Saint Lucia, when I had not yet invited Mrs. de Stemaria, I thought that the island of Bronilin Park was a good place to have fun: I had visited the island, but had never thought of taking the woman I longed for there, so I had a sad pleasure. In the last weeks of summer, those Parisian girls wandering by the lake. We wander on the shore of the lake leading to the island, hoping to meet again the girl we met at the last dance and fell in love with at first sight. We don't know where to find her, or even if she's never left Paris. We felt that our beloved had left yesterday or would leave tomorrow, just on the rippling shore of the lake, wandering along the delicious meal path. The first red leaf appeared on the path, just like the last blooming rose; carefully observing the horizon, the sight fell directly from the man-made park to the natural scenery of the Modong Highlands and Valleon Hills. I don't know where to divide the boundary. The real wilderness joined the man-made park, and the man-made Park was ingenious. The artistic beauty stretches to the depth of the field (the illusion of the eye is just opposite to the illusion caused by the rotary painting, under the dome of the rotary painting, the wax man in the foreground gives the canvas in the background a false depth and breadth); therefore, those precious birds are freely raised in a plant. In the garden, it flies around every day, even bringing exotic colors to the adjacent woods. From the last dance in summer to the end of winter, we walked through this romantic kingdom, uncertain about the woman we loved, filled with love melancholy; we would not be surprised if someone told us that this kingdom was outside the earth. Just like in Versailles Palace, when we stand on a high platform and look around, and see clouds surrounded by colorful clouds, which are connected with the blue sky with Murun style, we also feel like a fairyland. If someone says to us, at the end of the Grand Canal, where nature is restored to its true appearance, it is as gorgeous as the sea. On the other hand, the invisible villages are called Fleurs or Nimeg, and we will not be surprised at all. Merton is the name of a French city, located in the southwest of Paris, with vast forests. Mount Valleon lies to the west of Paris. (3) Rotary painting is a kind of painting placed on the inner wall of a circular building, which can make the audience sitting in the center of the room have the illusion that the real things are around. Mullen (1632-1690), French painter and sculptor. He is good at drawing horses and landscapes. He paints high skies. As the last batch of walkers passed, we felt painfully that our beloved woman would not come again, so we went to eat on the island. Poplars quiver in the sand, which echoes not so much the mysterious evening as the mystery of the evening. A rose-colored cloud lays the last vibrant color in the quiet sky above the poplar tree. A few raindrops fall silently on the ancient lake. But in the magical childhood, the lake was always sky-blue, and the images of clouds and flowers were never taken seriously. Geranium fought hard against the grey evening to illuminate the lake with its own red light, but in vain, the mist had begun to surround the sleepy island. We walk along the shore, in the wet darkness, and at most when a swan passes silently across the lake, we are amazed, just as at night when a child we think is still asleep suddenly opens his eyes in bed and smiles at us. Therefore, the more lonely we feel, the more isolated we feel, the more we want to have a lover with us. David Copperfield is an island that is often covered with fog even in summer. Besides, now that autumn is over and winter is coming, how happy I would be if I could bring Mrs. De Stemaria to the island in such a season! _____________ Although the weather since Sunday hasn't made my imagination grey and oceanic (as in other seasons, it's fragrant, colorful and Italian), it's because I'm eager to have Mrs. De Stemaria in a few days, and that's enough to keep the fog curtain in my endless bosom. In the old imagination, it rose and fell twenty times an hour. Since yesterday, even Paris has been foggy. Anyway, the fog not only reminds me of the hometown of the young woman I just met, but also because the fog on the island is thicker than in the city. It is likely to spread to the woods at night, especially to the lake. I think the fog will make Swan Island a little similar to Brittany Island. In my opinion, the foggy sea of Brittany always surrounds Mrs. de Stemaria's pale figure like a dress. Of course, at a young age, such as when I was walking near Mersegris Church, desire | hope and belief would give a woman's clothes a distinctive feature *, an irreducible essence. We pursue truth, but let it slip away inadvertently. Eventually, we will find that after countless futile attempts, a solid thing, that is, what we are looking for, has survived. We are beginning to know and understand that what we like, even by artificial means, needs to be acquired. Faith disappeared, and clothes artificially replaced faith. I know very well that I can't find Brittany half an hour away from home. But when I walk along the lakeside on a dark island with Mrs. De Stemaria's slender waist, like some people, even if I can't get into a monastery, at least before I have a woman, I can dress her in nuns'clothes. I even had the chance to listen to the waves with the young woman, because there was a storm the day before the date. I started shaving so that I could go to the island to reserve seats for dinner for the next day (although tourists were scarce on the island at this time of the year and restaurant business was light) and to fix the menu, when Franois informed Albertina that she was coming. I let her in at once, not afraid to let her see how ugly her black chin had become. But in Balbeck, for her sake, I always dress myself up beautifully. She makes me feel uneasy and miserable, just as Mrs. De Stemaria makes me feel uneasy and miserable now. I wanted to impress Mrs. De Stemaria with her dinner tomorrow, so I asked Albertina to accompany me to the island immediately and help me draw up the menu. We gave everything to a woman, but she was soon replaced by another woman. Even we were surprised that we didn't understand why there was a new and hopeless pursuit every hour. Altina wore a cap with no edge. The cap was so low that it almost covered her eyes. When she heard my suggestion, there seemed to be a trace of hesitation in the rosy smiling face exposed outside her hat. She may have other plans, but anyway, she gave up her plan for me happily, which satisfied me because I really needed a young housewife with me. She might be better at ordering than I am. Of course, at Balbeck Beach, Albertina was quite different to me. But even if we were not intimate enough with a woman we loved, we would create a social relationship between her and us (although there were some pitfalls that made us deeply miserable). Even if love disappeared or even forgotten, this social relationship still existed. So when a woman finally becomes a tool and a way for us to get to other women, we are surprised and amused when we think of her name that once made us very strange, just as we might feel when we were going to Franciscans Street or Ferry Street, we threw the address to the horse. After the coachman, all he cared about was the women he was going to visit, but when we suddenly thought of the names of these streets, one was because there was a Franciscan monastery on the street, the other was because there was a ferry crossing the Seine River, we would be surprised and amused. Of course, my desire for Balbeck Beach has matured Albertina's body and accumulated such fresh and sweet tastes on her. When I ran with her in the Bronilin Garden, I saw the autumn wind shaking trees like a hard gardener, sweeping away the fruits, sweeping away the dead leaves, and my heart. Rethinking, if St. Lou had made a mistake, or I had misunderstood the meaning of his letter, if I had nothing to gain from dinner with Mrs. De Stemaria, I would have asked Albertina to meet me that night, so that I could hold her in my arms for an hour of ecstasy, which I had estimated and measured by my curiosity. In the more fascinating jade body, I temporarily forget the excitement and sorrow that my love for Mrs. De Stemaria's birth brought me. Of course, if I could anticipate that Mrs. De Stemaria would not give me any warmth on her first date, I could imagine that the night she was going to spend with her would be disappointing. I have personal experience. I know very well how the two stages of our own development are strangely reflected in the fact that when we begin to love a woman we have longed for but don't know for a long time (rather than love a woman we hardly know, rather love her extraordinary life), that is to say, they won't. It shows up again in us, but it's reflected in our date with this woman. But that's not the case. It seems that material life should have its first stage of development. Although we have fallen in love with her, we try to say something meaningless to her: "I invite you to eat on this island because I think the environment here will make you feel pleasant. I have nothing special to say to you. But I'm afraid the air here is damp and you may catch a cold. No. It's polite of you to say so. In order not to embarrass you, madam, I allow you to fight with the cold for another quarter of an hour, but in a quarter of an hour, I must let you go back. I don't want you to catch a cold." So, we said nothing to her, and brought her back without any impression. We remembered at most one of her eyes, but we always wanted to see her again. However, on the second date, the first stage was over, and this time there was no memory left in our eyes. Nevertheless, we still only wanted to date her, and we wanted to be stronger. Nothing happened in the meantime. This time, however, I stopped talking to her about the comfort of the hotel and said to her (our words did not surprise the strange woman; we thought she was ugly, but we wanted people to talk to her about us all the time): "We have to make a lot of efforts to overcome the obstacles that have accumulated between our hearts. Do you believe we can succeed? Do you think we can defeat our enemies and look forward to a happy future? However, these contrasting, meaningless and then suggestive conversations about love are impossible, because St. Louis's letter is absolutely credible. Mrs. De Stemaria will devote herself to me the first night, so I don't need to make the worst of it and call Albertina to help me through the rest of the night. It's unnecessary. Robert never talks nonsense. His letters are clear. Albertina seldom talks to me because she thinks I have a lot of problems. We walked for a moment under the tall and dense green bushes that resembled the caves on the sea floor. We heard the wind whistling and the rain splashing on the top of the trees. I tread on the leaves on the ground. The dead leaves sink into the soil like shells. I use my stick to pull the thorny chestnuts like sea urchins. The remaining leaves on the branches twitch and chase the wind, but how long the stalks are, how far they can chase. Sometimes the links between the leaves and the branches are broken, the leaves fall to the ground and run to catch up with the wind. I am delighted to think that if this weather continues, the island will become farther away from Paris tomorrow and, in any case, less populated. We got into the carriage again, and Albertina stopped when the wind died down and asked me to take her on a tour of Santa Cruz Park. The clouds in the sky are chasing the wind like the leaves on the ground. A layer of rose-red and blue-green clouds appeared in the sky, and the night was like a migratory bird, migrating towards a beautiful climate. On a hill stood a statue of the marble goddess. The goddess was lonely, staying in a big forest which seemed to have become her holy place. With the violent jump of her demigod and demigod, the forest was filled with mythical horror. In order to see the goddess from near, Albertina climbed up the hill and I waited for her on the way. From the bottom up, Albertina was no longer as thick and round as I had seen in bed that day (she was so close that the bumps on her neck could be seen clearly), but slender and slender, like a small statue carved with a carving knife, which had coated her every minute that Balbeck spent happily. Ancient colour * luster. When I returned home alone, I thought of the half-day running with Albertina in the afternoon, going to Mrs. de Gelmont's house for dinner two days later, and returning a letter to Hilbert - Thinking of the three women I had loved, I thought that social life was like a sculptor's studio, full of trusts I once had. Our fanatical love has now discarded unused blanks. But I did not think that if the age of the rough is not too long, it may be picked up again and carved into a completely different and more valuable work of art from the original idea. The next day was cold, but it was sunny: it made winter feel like it was coming (in fact, winter had already arrived, and it was a miracle that we could see a dome of half-green and half-withered leaves in the bleak Bronilin Garden the day before). When I woke up, I saw an opaque, monotonous white fog hanging happily on the sun, thick and soft as marshmallow, as I had seen from the window of the East Sierra Barracks before. Then the sun hid and the fog became thicker in the afternoon. When the sun went down early, I began to dress up, but it was too early to start. I decided to call a carriage for Mrs. De Stemaria. I didn't want to force her to go with me, so I dared not go with the car, but my coachman took a note and asked if she would agree to me to pick her up. I lay in bed waiting for a reply, closed my eyes for a while, and then opened them again. Only a glimmer of light penetrated above the curtain, and gradually disappeared. I seem to have returned to the moment when I was at Balbeck Beach. It was like a deep and redundant corridor where I could find happiness at the end of the corridor. I learned to appreciate this dark and pleasant free time in Balbeck, just as I do now. I stayed alone in my room. Everyone else went to dinner. I saw the light above the curtain fading away, but I didn't feel sad at all, because I knew that the darkness was like the night in the Arctic. For a short time, the sun will rise again after dark night to illuminate Riverbell with a brighter light. I jumped out of bed, tied my black tie, combed my hair, and finished all the actions I should have done. In Balbeck, when I do these movements, I think not of myself, but of the girls I will see in Riverbell. I smile at them in advance from the diagonally hung mirror in my bedroom. Therefore, these movements herald a joy filled with sunshine and music. They are like wizards who can summon pleasure, but not only that, they have begun to come true; thanks to them, I have a clear concept of the authenticity of pleasure, and have a full sense of its frivolous and intoxicating charm, just as I used to do in Gombre, in hot July, when I hide in the impervious-shady-cool. In the room, when I heard the beating sound of the packers, I really knew the high temperature and the sun, and felt their charm. So what I long to see is not exactly Mrs. De Stemaria. Now, I have no way out, so I have to spend the night with her. But because it was the last night before my parents came back, I would rather she didn't come, so that I could try to visit the girls in Riverbell. I washed my hands for the last time and went happily across the room to dry them in the dark dining room. I think the door leading to the waiting room is open. It seems that the light is on, but the door is closed. I mistakenly think that the light coming through the door is actually the white reflection of my towel in a mirror. The mirror stood against the wall until someone hung it up to welcome my mother back. I revisited the illusions I had discovered in our apartment. The illusion is not always caused by vision, because when we first moved into the house, we heard the constant barking of dogs, which is somewhat similar to human barking. We thought that our female neighbor had a dog. It was actually the sound of a kitchen hose, which barked like a dog when the tap was running. The door on the stairway platform is the same. When the hall wind blows out, the door closes slowly, accompanied by a sobbing song, much like the chorus of pilgrims at the end of the Prelude to Tang Hao She. Besides, as soon as I put the towel back in place, I am lucky to hear this wonderful symphony again, because the doorbell rings. I ran to open the door to the coachman who had brought back the message, and the door of the waiting room sounded like a symphony. I think the answer should be, "The lady is downstairs" or "The lady is waiting for you". But he had a letter in his hand. I was too late to open the letter from De Stemaria. As long as the pen was still in her hand, she might have written something else, but now that she had stopped writing, the letter had become a fate, and it would go on alone. Mrs. De Stemaria could not make any changes. I asked the coachman to come down and wait for me for a moment, although he whispered that the fog was too heavy. As soon as he left, I opened the envelope. My guest, Viscount Alex de Stemaria, wrote on her business card: "I'm sorry, but I happen to have something to do tonight. I can't have dinner with you on Bronilin Island. These days, I have been looking forward to this moment. I will write you a longer letter when I return to Stemaria. I'm terribly sorry. Please accept my friendship." The sudden blow left me at a loss. I stood like a clay sculpture. Business cards and envelopes fell at my feet, like the stuffing of a gun. As soon as a bullet was fired, the stuffing fell to the ground. I picked up the envelope and business card and began to think about the sentence on the letter." She told me that she couldn't have dinner with me on Bloominglin Island, that is to say, she could have dinner with me somewhere else. I certainly won't go to her rashly, but I can always explain that. For four days, my thoughts had already arrived on that island with Mrs. de Stemaria ahead of time, and now I can't get them back. Despite this note, it is impossible to restrict my desire to continue to slide down the slope that I have followed day and night for several days. I instinctively continue to prepare for my departure, just like a student who failed in the exam wishes to answer one more question. I finally decided to go to Francois and ask her to go down and pay the coachman. I crossed the corridor and, without finding her, turned into the dining room. Suddenly, my foot stopped making the same noise on the floor and I could hardly hear it. The sudden silence gave me a feeling of suffocation and isolation even before I could figure out why. That's the carpet. My parents are coming back, and the servants are starting to nail the carpets. How beautiful these carpets should be in a pleasant morning! The sun is like a friend who takes you to the countryside to eat, waiting for you in the messy carpet and throwing the forest-breathing sunlight on the carpet; but now, on the contrary, the carpet is the first display of the winter prison, and I am forced to live in it, eat with my family, and never go in or out freely again. 。  Tang Haoshe is an opera by German musician Wagner (1813-1883). The prologue summarizes the central idea of the play; emotion, desire and abstinence are based on sacrifice. At the end of the play, the chorus of pilgrims expresses an attempt to reconcile the two morals. "Watch out, sir. Don't fall down. The carpet hasn't been nailed yet," cried Franoise to me. "I'll just turn on the light earlier. It's the end of September and the good season is over. Winter is coming. An ice mark appeared on the corner of the window, like a stripe on a Calais glass. Even in the Champs Elysees, there is no trace of young girls, only sparrows in self-pity. (1) Calais (1846-1904), French glass maker and cabinetmaker. I was disappointed not only because I couldn't see Mrs. De Stemaria, but also because her reply made me feel that she had never thought of dinner at all, but that I had been living for it since Sunday. Later, I knew that she was absurdly in love with a young man and married him. Maybe she had been with him at that time. Maybe it was for him that she forgot all about my invitation. Because if she hadn't forgotten, she would not have waited for me to send a car --- and there was no prior appointment --- to inform me that she was not free. My dream of having dinner with a young aristocratic woman on a Misty Island opened the way for a love that had not yet existed. Now, I'm disappointed, angry, and I want to recapture the woman who refused me at all costs. All this has mobilized my feelings so that the possible love that my imagination has been fighting alone (but in a milder way) for me can be maintained. How many such love left in our memory! There are more faces of girls and young women that we have forgotten! These faces are different, because they hide at the last minute, we think they are more charming, yearning to see them again. This is especially true of Mrs. De Stemaria. Now, if I want to love her, I just need to see her again to make her strong and temporary impression more profound. Otherwise, when she's not around, I can't remember her face. The contrary decision was made and I did not see her again. I didn't fall in love with her, but it could have been her. I soon fell madly in love with another woman, and when I recalled what had happened that night, I thought to myself that if things had changed a little, I would give madam de Stemaria my fanatical love, which turned my love for another woman into the cruelest love. It wasn't long before I fell in love with another woman, so love wasn't absolutely indispensable or destined, although I was willing and needed to think so. Franois left me alone in the dining room. She told me that I shouldn't have stayed there before she caught fire. She went to prepare dinner, because even if my parents hadn't come back, I would start confinement from tonight. I found a large bundle of carpets beside the cupboard still unopened. I buried my head in the carpet and began to cry. The dust on the carpet and the tears on my face swallowed into my stomach, like the mourning Jews, covering their heads with ashes. I shivered, not only because it was cold in the dining room, but also because a drop of tear from my eyes, like an endless, cold drizzle that could penetrate clothes, dramatically lowered my body temperature (which could resist the danger we didn't want to resist, it should be a slight temptation). Suddenly, I heard a voice: "May I come in?" Franois told me that you might be in the dining room. Let me see. Would you like to find a place for dinner with me? If that doesn't bother you, the fog outside is so thick that you can cut it with a knife. It's Robert de Saint-Lou. He arrived in Paris this morning, but I thought he was still in Morocco or at sea. I've talked about my views on friendship (and it was Robert de Saint Lue who inadvertently taught me this at Barbeck Beach). I think friendship is insignificant, so I do not understand that some gifted people, such as Nietzsche, would naively believe that friendship has a spiritual value, and therefore refuse to accept some friendship lacking spiritual value. Yes, when I see some people who no longer like Wagner's music in order to show their sincerity and avoid their conscience disturbance, I see that they think the truth can be expressed in action, especially in the essentially vague and inappropriate way of friendship, and that they can leave their jobs without permission when they hear the false news of the Louvre fire. Waiting for a friend and crying with him about the fire, I am always amazed when I see this. When I was in Balbeck, I found that playing with young girls had less harmful effect on our spiritual life than friendship. At least the former had nothing to do with spiritual life, while friendship tried to make us sacrifice - not through the same means as art - the only real part of ourselves that could not communicate with others. We obey the superficial "I". The real "I" can find happiness in himself, but the superficial "I" can only feel that he has received external support and care from an outsider with personality, thus finding a vague sympathy, which is overjoyed for protection, feeling comfortable, comfortable and comfortable, for discovery. Some of his qualities, which he would call shortcomings, are amazing and try to correct. In addition, people who despise friendship can be the best friends of the upper classes, but they have no illusions and will be reproached by conscience. This kind of artist is a truth. An artist conceives a masterpiece and feels that he should work when he is alive. Nevertheless, in order not to appear or possibly appear selfish, he and his life are devoted to a useless cause. Moreover, the more selfless the reason he does not want to devote his life to this cause, the braver he will devote his life to it. However, no matter what I think of friendship, even if I think that the happiness it brings me is between fatigue and boredom, however, harmful drinks can sometimes become a treasure of excitement, giving us the necessary stimulation, so that we can get the calories we can not get. Of course, I would not ask St. Lou to take me to see the girls in Riverbell, although I wanted to see them again an hour ago. Mrs. De Stemaria's regret that she had not made an appointment with me did not want to disappear so soon, but just when I felt frustrated and lazy and uninteresting, Saint Luther came in and brought me love, joy and life. Although they did not belong to me now, they wanted to dedicate themselves to me and only wanted to be. Part of my body. But Saint Lou did not understand why I had to cry out of gratitude and why I was moved to tears. Besides, who among our friends is more incredibly emotional than those who are diplomats, explorers, aviators, or soldiers like Saint Lucia? They are leaving for the countryside the next day, not knowing where to go, but dedicating their evening to us. It seems that they want to make a good impression on this evening. We are surprised to see that because this impression is rare and short, it makes them feel particularly sweet, but we do not understand that, since they like it so much. Why not let this impression prolong or repeat? It's a very common thing to have dinner with us, but these travelers have a wonderful pleasure, just as an Asians feel when they see our boulevard. I went out to dinner with Saint Luke. When I went downstairs, I remembered East Sierra. Every night I went to that restaurant to find Robert. The little dining rooms that I had forgotten now came back to me. I remembered a small dining room, which I never thought of before. It was not in the hotel where Saint Lumpur was served, but in a more humble inn, somewhat like a country inn, somewhat like a meal apartment, where the landlady and one of her maids served meals and served customers. The snow trapped me there. Besides, if Robert didn't go to his hotel for dinner that day, I didn't want to move. I was upstairs in a small wooden dining room where people brought me meals. At dinner the lights went out and the maid lit me two candles. I stretched out the plate to her, pretending not to see clearly. When she put potatoes on the plate, I grabbed her bare upper arm as if to show her the way. When she did not pull back, I touched it. Without saying a word, I pulled her to my side, blew out the candles, told her to search me and pick up some small ones. It's a waste of money. In the next few days, I felt that when I longed for physical pleasure, I wanted not only the maid, but also the isolated wooden dining room. However, until I left East Sierra, I never went back there again. Instead, I went to the restaurant where Saint Lou and his friends had dinner every night, out of habit and friendship. Nevertheless, even the hotel where St. Lou and his friends had meals, I may not have thought of it for a long time. We seldom enjoy life to the fullest. In summer evenings or early winter nights, there are many times that we do not make good use of, but we could have found a little peace and happiness from them. But these times are not absolutely wasted. When new happy moments begin to sing in the same sharp, linear way, time gives them the same rich foundation and content as orchestral music. Time goes on like this and is linked to a typical happiness that we meet only once in a while, but it still exists; in this case, happiness means giving up everything else and having dinner with friends in a comfortable and pleasant place, which is like a beautiful picture. Painting, engraving our memories of the past, we have made a promise to visit often. This friend will stir up our drowsy life with all his vitality and sincere friendship, and transmit a trembling joy to us. Normally, we can not get such joy in social activities. We will only belong to him and pledge our loyalty to friendship. The oath was born at this special moment and will remain there forever. Maybe the next day will be forgotten completely. But I can swear it to Saint Lucia without hesitation, because the next day he will leave Paris bravely and wisely with the foreboding that friendship will not last. If I recalled the night of East Sierra when we went downstairs, then when we came to the street and saw that it was so dark that we could hardly reach our fingers, that the fog seemed to cover the street lamp, and that the dim light could only be discernible when we came to the front, I suddenly saw a scene of my arrival at Gombre one night: Gombre at that time. There is only a street lamp far away in the street. I groped my way through the moist, warm and sacred night like a manger. I rarely saw a street lamp, but only the brightness of a big candle. How far apart was the night view of Gombre (I had a blurred memory) from the twilight of Riverbell I had just seen over the curtain? When I perceive these gaps, I feel a sense of excitement. If I am alone at this time, this excitement will give me a lot of inspiration, so that I can find my invisible gifts - my book is a history of looking for gifts - before how many detours. If I could find my gifts tonight, then this carriage would be more memorable to me than Dr. Besbiere's carriage. (I wrote a short article about the Bell Tower of Madanville Church in Besbiere's carriage, which I just found out, changed and sent to the newspaper Figaro, but But the stone sinks into the sea, and there is no news. Why is there such a gap? Is it because our memories of past years are not coherent, day after day, but fixed in a cool or sunlit morning or evening, sheltered by an isolated, remote, closed and static scenic spot, and forgotten everything else? Is it because the changes that are gradually taking place not only in the outside world, but also in our dreams and sexuality --- the changes in dreams and sexuality, which unconsciously lead us to different stages of life --- have been eliminated? If we recall a past in different years, because there is a blank memory, across the high wall of forgetfulness, we feel that this past and other past seem to be separated by the abyss of ten thousand feet, like two things that can not be compared, one is breathable air, the other is the color of the surroundings, incompatible with each other. There is no dichotomy. But now I feel that there is not only a gap in time, but also a gap in different worlds between the past of Gombre, East Sierra and Rifbell, which I have just recalled one after another, and their composition is different. If I want to use in a work the material that I think engraves all my memories in Rifbell, then I must add rose ingredients to the material that has been so far similar to Gombre's gray pottery to make it suddenly transparent, dense, clanking and pleasing to the eye. But after Robert explained to the coachman, he got in and sat beside me. The thoughts that just popped up in my mind disappeared in a twinkling of an eye. They are like goddesses, occasionally appearing condescending at the corner of a road, showing themselves to a lonely mortal, even when he was sleeping, they came to his bedroom and stood at the door to give him good news. But as long as the second person comes, the goddess will disappear immediately, because the people gathered together can not see the goddess. I was wrapped in friendship again. When Robert came to my house, he told me that it was foggy outside, but as we talked, the fog got bigger and bigger. I had hoped that there would be a light fog on Bloominglin Island that would wrap us up --- Mrs. de Stemaria and I --- but what I see now is far from a light fog. Two steps away the street lights became dim and dim, so the night was dark, and I felt as if I had come to the field, to the forest, or, more precisely, to a wet island of Brittany, which I had just yearned for infinitely. I felt as if I had lost my way on a northern coast and had to go through countless life and death trials to find a deserted inn; the mist was no longer a mirage we had been searching for, but a danger we were fighting for. Before finding a road and arriving safely in Hong Kong, we will go through all kinds of difficulties and dangers, experience the sorrow of the world, and finally find security, and enjoy the happiness that security brings to a traveler who is in a stray and distressed situation. People in safety do not know the pain of losing safety. On our way to the hotel, there was only one thing that almost spoiled our fun, because it made me surprised and angry. You know, "Saint Lou said to me," I told Block that you don't like him so much. You think he's tacky. I'm the kind of person who likes to be crisp, "he concluded triumphantly and indisputably. I was stunned. Because I always believed in Saint Luke and his friendship, but he betrayed our friendship by saying this to Block. Besides, I don't think he should say that either because of his shortcomings or because of his advantages. He was well educated and paid great attention to politeness. Speeches should not be so straightforward. Does his complacency conceal his embarrassment in admitting something he knows he hasn't done? Is it an unconscious revelation, or a foolish act, which regards one of my undetected shortcomings as a virtue? Was he angry with me for a moment before he said something bad about me, or was he suddenly angry with Block and wanted to say something unpleasant to him, even to implicate me? In addition, when he said these rude and vulgar words to me, there were many curved lines on his face. Such terrible expressions were rare for him. I only saw him once or twice in my life. Lines first spread out from the middle of the face to the side of the mouth, twisting the lips, so that the mouth flashed a despicable and ugly expression, which is undoubtedly inherited from the ancestors almost animal* At this time (such moments occur only every two years), his ego may have partially disappeared, and the personality of an ancestor * temporarily manifested itself in him. Robert's phrase "I like to be cruel" is just like his complacent expression, which can arouse suspicion and condemnation. I would like to say to him that if you like to be simple, you should be frank and sincere when it comes to yourself, instead of hurting others and benefiting yourself, putting money on your face. But the carriage had stopped at the entrance of the hotel. The sparkling glass facade of the hotel finally broke through the darkness and brought a little light to the night. Because of the comfortable light in the shop, the fog seems to be a servant who follows the master's joy, anger and joy. The spring breeze goes to the sidewalk to show you the entrance; it presents a delicate iridescent halo, like a light pillar to guide the Hebrews, pointing out where the gate is. Besides, Hebrews are among the customers. For a long time, Block and his friends have come here every night to meet their curiosity, as they did during the fasting season, once a year before the feudal period, dizzying with hunger, drinking coffee and talking about politics. Any kind of mental stimulation gives habits the highest value and quality. Habits are closely related to spiritual stimulation. Therefore, there is no hobby that is slightly stronger to form a small society around oneself. Common hobbies unite the members of this society. Every member of this society strives to be respected by other members in his life. Here, even in a small town in the provinces, you will find some fanatical music fans who spend their best time and most of their money watching indoor concerts, going to music talks, going to cafes and music fans parties, and meeting musicians. Others love flying and want to win the praise of the old waiter in the glass-walled bar on the top floor of the airport building; the bar is airtight, and the old waiter hides in it just as in the glass cabin of the lighthouse, and can watch one pilot flip in the air accompanied by a pilot who does not let fly at this moment, while the other one flies in the air. The driver, who had just disappeared, suddenly landed and fell to the ground, like a mythical roc, with its wings fluttering in a rumbling earthquake. Those interested in Zola's lawsuit also like to visit the cafe. In order to prolong and deepen the excitement during the hearing, they often come here to gather. But they were discriminated against by other customers and by the noble children. The nobles gathered in the second cafe, separated from the first by a low wall decorated with landscape tapestries. They regard Dreyfus and his supporters as traitors, although twenty-five years later, in the meantime, they have time to clarify their ideas, and the retrial has become a respected faction in history - their sons, whether Bolshevik supporters or waltz dancers, answer questions from "literati" It may be declared publicly that if they lived in that era, they would surely be on the side of Dreyfus. Although they knew little about the origin and course of the Dreyfus case, as they did for a time, they had lost their glory on the day of their birth, Countess Edmund de Budapens or Calvin. Marquis Lifey knew nothing. On this foggy night, the nobles gathered in this cafe, the fathers of young scholars who might later be reappointed, were all hairy young men. Of course, their families all want their son to marry a wealthy lady, but this has not yet become a reality for anyone. There are several people pursuing such an object at the same time (there are also several "noble ladies" to choose from, but there are a lot fewer dowry families than suitors after all). At present, it is still in the embryonic stage, and is only content to let these young people compete with each other. I've had a lot of unpleasant things today. In order to make an explanation to the coachman and let him pick us up after dinner, Saint Lucia delayed a few minutes, so I had to go in alone. However, as a bad start, I thought I could not get out of the turnstile because I was not used to it. (Incidentally, for those who prefer exact words, this calm-looking turnstile is called a revolving door, which is translated from English.) That evening, the boss was afraid to go outside and leave his customers for fear of being wet by fog. He stood by the door and listened with interest to the pleasant complaints of the new customers. The customers'faces sparkled with joy, because they were frightened all the way, met with many difficulties, and finally arrived at the cafe. However, when he saw a stranger coming in who could not get out of the glass door, his friendly and sincere smile disappeared from his face. The obvious ignorance of strangers made the examiner frown and want to say "dignuse stintrare". To make matters worse, I went to the aristocratic coffee shop, and the boss came to drive me away in a vehement manner. He roughly asked me to sit in another room. All the waiters immediately followed the example of the master and roughed me up. I was sitting on a cushioned bench full of people, which happened to be facing the Hebrew door. The door was not rotating, it kept opening and closing. It brought me a terrible cold wind, so I felt even more disappointed. When I offered to change seats, the boss refused and said to me, "No, sir, I can't bother you for your sake." He soon forgot about Shanshan, the late diner who made trouble for people, because he was attracted by new customers. As the old novel tells us, the newcomer has to pay his share and tell his adventures before he enters this warm and safe refuge and asks for beer, cold chicken wings or sugar and water (it's too early to serve dinner). The warmth and security of the shelter contrasted sharply with the environment they had just separated from, so that the atmosphere of joking and friendship that existed before the campfire was enveloped in it. The meaning of "revolving door". Latin, meaning "please come in". One man said that his carriage had been around the disabled military academy three times, but he thought he had reached the bridge of Concorde Square. Another said that his car wanted to drive along the Champs Elysees Avenue, but it took him three and a quarter minutes to get out of a bush in the Elysees Circle Square. Next comes the dense fog, the cold, the dead silence in the street, the dancing of the speaker's eyebrows, the enjoyment of the listener, thanks to the warm and comfortable atmosphere in the cafe (except my seat), the strong light that makes people squint (because they are accustomed to darkness) and the conversation that restores the active function of the ears. 。  It's hard to keep silent. They thought the twists and turns on the road were strange, unheard of and unsettled, so they looked around with their eyes for someone to talk to. The boss also put aside the idea of hierarchy: "Prince Fulvax lost his way three times when he came here from St. Martin's Gate," he said without hesitation, laughing and introducing the famous nobleman to a lawyer. But in ordinary times, there is a more difficult obstacle between the lawyer and the prince than the landscape tapestry between the two halls. Three times! "Look," said the lawyer, touching his hat with his hand. The Prince did not appreciate such close remarks. He belongs to such a class of aristocrats, who seem to be their only pastime for being brutal and unreasonable (even to aristocrats, unless they are first-class aristocrats). These young people, especially Prince Fulvax, never answered greetings. If the other person made a polite mistake again and said hello to him, they would return it with a sneer or raise their head angrily. They would see an old man who had served them pretending not to know him; they would shake hands with nobody and not say hello. Huh, unless the duke or the Duke introduces them to relatives and friends. They are young and unrestrained, which contributes to their arrogance and insolence (even young people of bourgeois origin are equally ungrateful and ill-educated, forgetting to write to a widowed benevolent official for months in succession and never saying hello when they see him again). However, this arrogant attitude is inspired by a fashion that advocates the privileged class. In fact, just as some neurotic people have less symptoms as adults, these extremely fashionable young people will slowly cool down as adults. Once youth has passed, few people are arrogant and rude any more. They have always thought that arrogance is everything, but they suddenly found (the Prince is no exception), in addition to arrogance, there are music, literature, and even can be a member of Parliament. People's values have changed, and people they used to disdain can now talk to. I hope those who are easy-tempered and patient will have good luck (if you should say so) and get the favors and privileges they didn't get at the age of 20 when they were 40! As for Prince Fuwaks, now that he has been mentioned, let me tell you: he is a member of a small circle of twelve to fifteen people, and belongs to a narrower group of four. This small circle of twelve to fifteen people has a common feature (but we don't think Prince Fuwaks has), that is, each person has two faces. They are heavily indebted and seem to their suppliers to be a shameless bunch, although the suppliers are very happy to address them: "Mr. Count, Mr. Marquis, Mr. Duke..." They want to get rid of their predicament through the so-called "rich marriage" (also known as "big pocket marriage"), but because only four or five people have the generous dowry they covet, so several people fight for a fiancee. They kept each other secret when one of them announced in the cafe, "My distinguished friends, I love you so much that I can't help announcing to you the news of my engagement to Miss De Amblesack." At the same time, several people would exclaim, many of them thought they were married to Miss De Amblesack. Now that everything is in the balance, he loses his composure when he hears the news. He can't help shouting angrily and amazed, "So, Bibby, do you think marriage is a pleasure?" Prince Chartrello couldn't help crying out that he was surprised and desperate that even the fork had fallen, because he thought that the news of Miss De Amblezak's engagement would soon be announced, but not with someone else, but with his Prince Chartrello. God knows, however, that his father had cleverly spoken ill of Bibi's mother to the Umbrecks. Marriage makes you happy?" He could not help asking again. Bibby was well prepared because he had enough time to decide what attitude to adopt after he made the marriage "semi-public". He smiled and said, "I'm not happy to get married. I'm not very interested in getting married. I'm happy to marry Daisy de Umbrecack. I think she's very attractive. ” By this time, Mr. de Chartrello had regained his calm, but he thought that he should turn as soon as possible to Miss De Laganouk or Miss Foster, the second and third wealthy candidates, and ask those creditors who were anxious to marry Miss De Amblezak to wait patiently, and to those who had. He had told the charming people of Miss De Amblezak that it was a good match to marry her, and that if they married her, they might be in a standoff with their families. He also said that Mrs. de Soleon had said that if they were married, she would not receive them. However, although they seem worthless to the suppliers and restaurant owners, they have another side. Once they return to the upper class, they are no longer the people who waste their property and try to make up for the holes by any means. They became Mr. Prince, Mr. Duke, and people calculated their wealth only by their badges. A Duke with almost 100 million yuan of money, if any, has to let them go ahead, because they are the elders of a family. If in the past they were the monarchs of a small country, they had the right to make coins in their own territory, and so on. If one of them walks into the cafe, the other one bows his head and pretends not to see him, lest he be forced to greet him. Because in order to continue his dream of pursuing wealth, he invited a banker to have dinner here. Every time a man in the upper class deals with a banker under such conditions, he loses hundreds of thousands of francs, but he does not accept the lesson, but he also deals with another banker and continues to burn incense and worship Buddha. But Prince Fuwaks is rich. He belongs not only to this small circle of fourteen or five elegant young people, but also to another, tighter and more inseparable group of four. Saint Lou belongs to this group. People invite them to dinner and never miss one. They call them four misbehaved young people. They always see them wandering together. They visit their castle. The owners always arrange them in the same room. They are all handsome and beautiful. Therefore, it is rumored that the relationship between them is abnormal. As for Saint Lucia, I can refute his rumors unequivocally. But strangely, even though everyone later knew that the rumors were true, they themselves knew nothing about what the other three had done. However, each of them is trying every means to inquire about the situation of the other three, perhaps to satisfy a desire or, more precisely, to snowhate, in order to prevent a marriage, in the contest for a fiancee, to defeat the exposed friend. This group of four Platonists has added a new member (the group of four has never exceeded four), and the fifth is more Platonist than the other four. But he was bound by religion until the group of four broke up and he married himself. He became head of the family and begged Luther to give birth to another boy or girl, but before that, he would join the army. Although Fulvax was one of these people, his anger was not as great as it might have been, because what the lawyer said in front of him was not directed at him. What's more, tonight's situation is somewhat special. Moreover, it is impossible for a lawyer to establish contact with his Prince Fulvax in the future, just as the coachman who sent him could not associate with him. So he thought he could answer each other's questions. He felt that in this foggy day, the lawyer seemed to be the companion he met on the distant windy roaring beach or on the foggy beach, but he put on a haughty air and pretended not to speak to the lawyer and said, "Lost is not counted, and how can he find his way?" " The boss was very impressed with the correctness of the prince's opinion, for he had heard it several times this evening. In fact, he has a habit of comparing what he hears or reads with a verse he is familiar with, and if he finds no difference, he will feel heartfelt appreciation. This is a state of mind that can not be ignored. If this state of mind is applied to political talks or newspaper reading, public opinion can be formed, leading to the most serious incidents. Agadir is an example. If many German cafe owners who only appreciate customers or newspapers say that France, Britain and Russia are "looking for trouble" in Germany, then the Agadir incident could rise to war, even though the war did not break out. If historians have reasonably given up explaining people's actions with the will of the king, they should replace the will of the king with the psychology of the individual and ordinary people. Agadir is a port city in southwestern Morocco. On October 1, 1911, the Dezheng Palace sent artillery ships to protest French troops'entry into the northern Moroccan cities of Fez and Meknes. As a result of the negotiations between the two sides, France maintained its right to freedom of movement in Mozambique, but in exchange it gave part of the Congo to Germany. Recently, politically, the owner of the cafe I just arrived at only applied his indorsement mentality to some segments of the Dreyfus case. If he does not find familiar words in a customer's speech or in an article in a newspaper, he claims that the article is dull or the customer is not frank enough. Prince Fulvax just amazed him so much that before the Prince spoke, he took up the conversation. Well spoken, prince, well spoken (the meaning of this sentence is to recite correctly), that's exactly what it is, "he cried out happily, in the words of One Thousand and One Nights, he was"in full swing". But the prince had already gone into the small cafe and disappeared. Then, just as no matter what serious event happens, life will start anew, people who come out of the fog will ask for drinks and dinner; among those who order dinner, several young people are members of the race club, and because of the abnormal weather, they will not hesitate to sit at two tables in the big cafe. Close to me, like a flood between a small restaurant and a large restaurant, among all those who had gone through all the hardships and were inspired by the comfort of the restaurant, created an atmosphere of intimacy comparable to the atmosphere in Noah's ark, in which only I was excluded. Suddenly, I saw the boss bending down to salute, and the foremen all ran out, attracting customers'attention. Quickly, call me Cyprian and prepare the table for the Marquis of St. Louis, "cried the boss. In his eyes, Robert is not only a noble Lord with high prestige, but also a customer who lives in luxury and is willing to throw a lot of money to him. The customers in the big restaurant stared curiously. The customers in the small restaurant rushed to greet their friend St. Lou, who was shining his shoes vigorously. But just as he was about to enter the small restaurant, he found me in the big restaurant. God, "he cried," what are you doing there? "Open the door wide," he said, staring at the boss, who rushed to close the door and blamed the waiter. "I always told them to close the door, but they never remember." I wanted to go to his side, so I had to ask my deskmate and the customers at the front tables to make way for me." Are you up for ten? You like it there, you don't like small restaurants, do you? But, my poor little fellow, you'll freeze. Please block this door for me, "he said to the boss." It's blocked, Mr. Marquis. From now on, if there's another customer coming, it's easy to get in from a small restaurant. In order to appear more enthusiastic, he ordered a foreman and several waiters to carry out the task, and at the same time he threatened to punish them if they did not finish well. In order to make me forget his attitude towards me at first, he showed me excessive respect, but he did not want me to feel that he respected me because his wealthy noble customer was very enthusiastic with me, so he secretly smiled at me to show that he personally seemed very fond of me. A customer behind me was drinking, and the boss turned around. What I heard wasn't: "Chicken wings, good, some champagne, but some water." Instead, I like glycerin. Yes, it's hot. Very good. I wanted to see who was the ascetic who imposed such a menu on me, but I immediately turned my head to Saint Lucia. Because I don't want this strange gourmet to recognize me. I know him, but he's just a doctor. He was trapped in a thick fog in a cafe, and a customer took advantage of the opportunity to seek medical treatment from him. Doctors, like brokers in the exchange, always talk without me. I looked at Saint Lucia, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Among the customers of this cafe, there are many foreigners I know all my life. They are all kinds of literati and painters. They wear artificial short cloaks and 1830 ties, and their movements are so inflexible that they make people laugh, but they are submissive and intolerant. In order to appear unconcerned, some people even pretend to be foolish and make people laugh. They are highly moral, talented, practical and sensitive people. These foreigners --- mainly Jews, of course, those who are not assimilated --- make it uncomfortable for those who are intolerant of weirdness (just as Block disgusts Albertina). Generally speaking, people will soon admit that even though their long hair, big nose and eyes, and incoherent gestures are annoying, it is childish to judge them solely on the basis of these gestures. They are open-minded and honest, and you will fall in love with them deeply in your association. Especially Jews. Most of their parents are elegant, broad-minded and sincere. Compared with these qualities, Saint Lou's mother and Duke Gelmont are pale. They are ruthless and have false religious feelings. They will only whip the scandal. They will try their best to defend Christianity and eventually lead to it. The only highly praised wisdom, through unexpected means) a rich marriage based on money relations. However, no matter how the shortcomings of parents form new qualities in their children, the predominant qualities in Saint Lucia are still open-minded and frank. Therefore, we should say a few words of praise to France: if these qualities exist in a pure Frenchman (whether noble or civilian), they will blossom gracefully (it may be a little too much to describe them in various ways, because of the scale and limitations), and a foreigner, no matter how respectable he is, is impossible. It's so elegant. Of course, there are spiritual and moral qualities in other people. Although some people's appearance is disgusting, unpleasant and amusing, these qualities are still valuable. However, what is beautiful from a fair point of view and valuable in terms of spirit and soul is not only pleasant to the eyes, beautiful in color, delicate in design, but also perfect unity of heart and appearance. This is a good thing after all, perhaps only French people can do it. I gazed at Saint Lucia and thought that when a man has both a graceful appearance and a noble and elegant heart, as well as a delicate, ingenious nose wing comparable to the wings of a butterfly perched on the grass flowers around Gombre, it is after all delightful; I think the real secret is from the thirteenth generation. French art masterpieces that have existed since the centuries and will not disappear with the disappearance of our church are not the stone angels of St. Andrey's church, but ordinary French people, regardless of nobility, bourgeoisie and peasants. Their facial lines are as delicate and clear as ghosts and axes, and they are well-known as St. Andrey's church on the porch. Like sculpture, it has a long history, but it is still creative. The owner left us temporarily to arrange for closure and dinner himself (he insisted that we eat meat from the butcher's shop again and again because the poultry was not famous), and when he came back, he said to us that Prince Fulvax wanted to eat at a table next to the Marquis. But they're all full, "Robert answered, seeing that the tables around me were full of people." It doesn't matter. As long as I can make Mr. Marquis happy, I can ask them to change places. It doesn't take much. For Mr. Marquis's sake, it can be done!" It's up to you to decide, "Saint Lou said to me." Fulvax is a good boy. I don't know if he'll make you hate him. He's not as stupid as many people. I answered Robert and said I would love Prince Fulvax, but I was so happy to have dinner with him once in a while that I preferred to be alone with him. Ah! Mr. Prince's coat is very beautiful, "said the boss when we discussed it." Yes, I saw him go through it, "Saint Lou answered. I want to say to Robert that Mr. de Charles concealed my knowledge from his sister-in-law and wanted to ask him why, but when Mr. Fulvax came, I had to stop. He has come up to us to see if we accept his request. Robert introduced us and told him frankly that he wanted to talk to me without any interruption. When the prince left, he said goodbye to me with a smile and pointed to Saint Lucia as if apologizing for his brief introduction. I wanted to know that he had hoped to introduce it in more detail. But at this time. Robert, as if suddenly remembering something, went away with his companions. Before leaving, he said to me, "You sit down and don't move, eat first, I'll come if I go." After that, he went to the small restaurant. I was very sad to hear the elegant princes I did not know talking about the absurdity of the young Grand Duke of Luxembourg (the former Count of Nassau). I met the Grand Duke of Luxembourg at Balbeck Beach. During my grandmother's illness, he expressed his deep sympathy to me. One of them said that the Duke of Luxembourg had said to the Duchess of Gelmont, "When my wife passes by, I ask everyone to stand up." The Duchess answered (not only inconsistent with the truth, but also inconsistent with the fact that the young princess's grandmother is the most decent woman in the world): "When your wife passed by, she was very old. Home should stand up, but your wife's grandmother passes by differently because she asks men to sleep. Then someone said he stayed in a hotel when he went to the beach to visit his aunt Princess Luxembourg this year. He complained that the manager (my friend) had not raised the Luxembourg flag on the dam. However, the Luxembourg flag is not as famous as the British or Italian flag. It took several days to get it, which made the young prince extremely unsatisfactory. I don't believe it at all, but I decided that if I went to the beach, I would ask the hotel manager as soon as I got there to make sure it was a complete fabrication. While I was waiting for Saint Luke, I asked my boss to bring me some bread." Just a moment, Mr. Baron." I'm not a baron, "I answered, playfully assuming a melancholy look." Ah! I'm sorry, Mr. Count!" I didn't have time to protest again (otherwise, I might become a marquis), because Saint Lou, as he had said himself, soon appeared at the entrance of the dining hall, with the prince's camel coat in his hand. Then I realized that he was afraid of my cold and wanted the prince to come and wear it for me. He gestured to me all the way. He came up to me, but he had to move my table again or I had to change seats before he could sit down. A circle near the wall was filled with red velvet cushioned benches. Besides me, there were three or four young people from the horse racing club who were acquaintances of St. Lou. Because the small restaurant was full, they came to the big restaurant. As soon as St. Lou entered the dining hall, he lightly jumped on a cushioned bench. There was a wire between the tables at a certain height from the ground; Saint Lucia jumped over the wire as swiftly and smoothly as a horse-racing obstacle. He did it all for me to keep me from moving, so I felt very uneasy, but he was very impressed by my friend's excellent performance in this aerial acrobatics. I'm not the only one who was amazed, because the owners and waiters were like fans waiting outside the racetrack circle. They were all overwhelmed. Of course, if the acrobatics were done by a low-ranking, stingy aristocratic customer, they would not be so amazed. A fellow seemed stunned and stood with a dish, forgetting that there were customers waiting for him to serve. When St. Lou had to pass behind his friends, he climbed onto the back of his chair and walked very smoothly. There was a deliberate applause in the restaurant. Finally, when Saint-Luk came to me, he took his steps exactly as a star officer did when he came to the King's View Stadium, bent down, handed me the camel sweater respectfully and fearfully, and then sat down quickly beside me. Without asking me to make a move, he took it as a lightweight coat. The warm shawl hung over my shoulders. "I think of one thing, and you give me your opinion," Robert said to me. "My uncle Charles has something to say to you. I promise him to let you go to him tomorrow evening. I was just going to tell you about him. But not tomorrow night. I'm going to have dinner at your aunt Gelmont's house." "Yes, Oliana is going to have a big banquet tomorrow. I was not invited. But Uncle Palamedes did not want you to go. Can't you change your mind? If not, after the dinner, you'll go to Uncle Palamedes'house anyway. I believe he would like to see you. You see, you can come to his house by eleven o'clock. Eleven o'clock, don't forget, I'm responsible for informing him. He has very little breath. If you don't go, he will remember you. Oliana's dinner always ends early. If you only have dinner there, you'll be at my uncle's house at eleven o'clock. As for me, I should have gone to see Oliana because of my work in Morocco. I want to change it. She has always been very enthusiastic about these things. She has a great influence on General de Saint Joseph. I am in charge of this matter. But don't mention it to her. I have told Princess Parma that things will go well. Ah! Morocco, how interesting! There are many things to tell you. The people there are so smart that they can be smart. "Speaking of Morocco, don't you think the Germans will fight us there?" "No, they hate war. In fact, it makes sense to hate war. But the emperor was peace-loving. They have always asked us to believe that they want to fight in order to force us to give in. This can be compared with poker. Prince Monaco, the agent of King William II, came to talk to us in secret. He said that Germany would be unkind to us if we did not give in. So we gave in. In fact, we will not compromise, nor will there be any form of war. Just think about how a war will reverberate around the world in this day and age. It's more catastrophic than the floods and Doomsday in the Bible, just a little shorter." He talked about friendship, hobbies and regrets to me, although like all travellers like him, he would leave the next day and stay in the countryside for a few months, only one or two days in Paris before returning to Morocco (or another place). But that night I felt a fever in my heart, and his words aroused a sweet dream in my heart. Since then, we have had a rare heart-to-heart talk, especially this time, which has engraved a new milestone in my memory. It's a night of friendship, for me and Saint Luke. However, I am afraid that the friendship I have with him at the moment is not necessarily the friendship he wishes to evoke (for which I feel a little uneasy). I am still immersed in the joy of his trotting like a horse and hitting the target with graceful movements. I think that I am happy, perhaps because every movement Saint Luther does along the wall on the back of the bench can find a reason in his own personality * characteristics, but more because these movements are closely related to the family characteristics passed on to him by origin and education. The orphan of Wudu first refers to the stable interest, not the appreciation of beauty, but the manner. This stability * enables the noble youth to create the sense and will of adapting to the new situation, like a musician who is invited to play a new music, so that his skills and techniques can be brought into full play. In addition, this stability * can make the interest of the noble youth play a full role, needn't be left and right to consider, however, how many bourgeois youth because of worries and bound hands and feet, not only afraid of improper etiquette in public, but also afraid of appearing too enthusiastic to make friends laugh. Robert despises etiquette. Of course, he never feels that he despises etiquette in his heart. But because of his inheritance, it has become a part of his body. His ancestors never treat people and things with formality or airs. They think that doing so can only satisfy and delight each other. There is also the noble quality of generosity, which keeps Robert from looking at material benefits (he spends a lot of money in this restaurant, which makes him the most fashionable and popular customer here, as elsewhere, not only from his servants, but also from all the most decent young people. As you can see from his gallant attitude, he despises material interests like a chair with crimson cushions. He did symbolically trample on several benches just now. They are like a colorful road. Only when my friend comes to me with more elegance and speed can he win him. Joy. Stable temperament and generosity are the main qualities of the aristocracy. Through their clear, transparent and meaningful bodies (not as vague as my body), these qualities can be seen vaguely, just as artists'skills and abilities can be seen through a work of art; these qualities are sacred. Lu's fast running along the wall is as clear and fascinating as the knight's running on the lintel of the church pillar. Alas, "Robert might think," why should I waste my youth in despising origin and pursuing justice and spirit? Why bother to choose some clumsy eloquent clothes-wearers as partners besides friends you have to make? In the end, the image that I present and leave a precious memory for others is not the image that I will strive to create and that I should strive to create, but the image that I have not created, or even have nothing in common with me, an image that I used to despise and try to abandon. Why should I love my beloved friend so much? In the end, his greatest pleasure was to find something more common in me. Although he believed in friendship in his mouth, he couldn't think so in his heart. The pleasure he sought was not friendship, but spiritual, selfless and artistic pleasure. That's what I'm worried about today. I'm afraid Saint Lucia will have this idea. He was wrong to think so. If he did not like the agility and elegance inherent in his body as he did, and if he did not break away from the aristocratic arrogance for such a long time, his agility would be laborious and clumsy, and his manners would be vulgar and indecent. Just as Mrs. de Villebarisis needed a serious attitude to give the impression that her conversations and memoirs were light and talented, St. Lou, in order to make her body highly aristocratic, never considered how to show it, sought a higher goal, making it unconscious and elegant. Lines dissolve in his body. Therefore, for him, the nobility of thought can not be separated from the elegance of the body, but if there is no nobility of thought, the elegance of the body will be incomplete. An artist who wants to reflect his thoughts in his works does not need to express them directly; even the highest praise for God exists in the denial of God by atheism. Atheists believe that everything in the world is perfect and there is no need for another creator. I also know clearly that this young man who runs along the wall and acts like a knight on the lintel of a church pillar admires more than a work of art; just now, he left the young prince for me and Queen Navar, Queen Charles VII's granddaughter. His descendants, he never showed off his noble origin and great wealth before me. He was so confident, so flexible and so elegant when he draped his camel sweater over my cold-frightened body. These were precisely the characteristics that his arrogant and agile ancestors had passed on to him; however, all these - Prince Fuwax, noble. Birth and great wealth, arrogant and agile ancestors - aren't they older friends in his life than I am? I thought his friends would separate me from Saint Lucia forever. On the contrary, Saint Lucia made choices that only the most intelligent people could make. He abandoned these friends for me without restraint. His body movements were the reflection of his freedom, and his perfect friendship was realized in this freedom. This informal manner of the Gelmont family --- not the elegant and refined informal manner shown in Robert, because the ancestral arrogance on Robert is only an unconscious elegant coat, covering up the real noble modesty --- may reveal vulgar arrogance, which I am not a predecessor of De Charles. It was found in Duke de Gelmont. Mr. De Charles's shortcomings in character overlap with the aristocratic habits. To this day, he is still a mystery to me. Duke Gelmont, though generally vulgar (my grandmother used to resent his vulgar manners when she met him at Mrs. de Villebalisis's house), still had a lot of old aristocratic characteristics. On this point, the day I went to his house for dinner, the day after I had dinner with Saint Lucia, I had a feeling. The last one returns to the next one in the catalogue