df.theedge-第42部分

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　　'Yes；　I'm　sorry。'
　　She　shrugged　and　looked　down　at　the　lake。　'I　suppose；'　she　said　in　a　disgruntled　voice；　'all　this　is　pretty　special；　but　what　I　really　feel　is　bored。'
　　She　had　thick　almost　straight　chestnut　hair　which　curved　at　the　ends　over　her　shoulders；　and　she　had　clear　fine　skin　and　marvellous　eyebrows。　She　was　going　to　be　beautiful；　I　thought；　with　maturity；　unless　she　let　the　sulky　cast　of　her　mouth　spoil　not　just　her　face　but　her　life。
　　'I　sometimes　wish　I　was　poor　like　you；'　she　said。　'It　would　make　everything　simple。'　She　glanced　at　me。　'I　suppose　you　think　I'm　crazy　to　say　that。'　She　paused。　'My　mother　would　say　I　shouldn't　be　talking　to　you　anyway。'
　　I　moved　as　if　to　stand　up。　'I'll　go　away；　if　you　like；'　I　said　politely。
　　'No；　don't。'　She　was　unexpectedly　vehement　and　surprised　even　herself。　'I　mean。。。　there's　no　one　else　to　talk　to。　I　mean。。。　well。'
　　'I　do　understand；'　I　said。
　　'Do　you？'　She　was　embarrassed。　'I　was　going　to　go　on　the　bus；　really。　My　parents　think　I'm　on　the　bus。　I　was　going　with　Rose。。。　Mrs　Young。。。　and　Mr　Young。　But　he。。。'　She　almost　stopped；　but　the　childish　urge　in　her　to　talk　was　again　running　strong；　sweeping　away　discretion。　'He's　never　as　nice　to　me　as　she　is。　I　think　he's　tired　of　me。　Cumber；　isn't　that　a　stupid　name？　It's　Cumberland；　really。　That's　somewhere　in　England　where　his　parents　went　on　their　honeymoon；　Rose　says。　Albert　Cumberland　Young；　that's　what　his　name　is。　Rose　started　calling　him　Cumber　when　they　met　because　she　thought　it　sounded　cosier；　but　he　isn't　cosy　at　all；　you　know；　he's　stiff　and　stern。'　She　broke　off　and　looked　down　towards　the　Chateau。　'Why　do　all　those　Japanese　go　on　their　honeymoons　together？'
　　'I　don't　know；'　I　said。
　　'Perhaps　they'll　all　call　their　children　Lake　Louise。'
　　'They　could　do　worse。'
　　'What's　your　name？'　she　asked。
　　'Tommy；　Miss　Lorrimore。'
　　She　made　no　ment。　She　was　only　half　easy　in　my　pany；　too　conscious　of　my　job。　But　above　all；　she　wanted　to　talk。
　　'You　know　my　brother；　Sheridan？'　she　said。
　　I　nodded。
　　'The　trouble　with　Sheridan　is　that　we're　too　rich。　He　thinks　he's　better　than　everyone　else　because　he's　richer。'　She　paused。　'What　do　you　think　of　that？'　It　was　part　a　challenge；　part　a　desperate　question；　and　I　answered　her　from　my　own　heart。
　　'I　think　it's　very　difficult　to　be　very　rich　very　young。'
　　'Do　you　really？'　She　was　surprised。　'It's　what　everyone　wants　to　be。'
　　'If　you　can　have　everything；　you　forget　what　it's　like　to　need。　And　if　you're　given　everything；　you　never　learn　to　save。'
　　She　brushed　that　aside。　'There's；　no　point　in　saving。　My　grandmother　left　me　millions。　And　Sheridan　too。　I　suppose　you　think　that's　awful。　He　thinks　he　deserves　it。　He　thinks　he　can　do　anything　he　likes　because　he's　rich。'
　　'You　could　give　it　away；'　I　said；　'if　you　think　it's　awful。'
　　'Would　you？'
　　I　said　regretfully；　'No。'
　　'There　you　are；　then。'
　　'I'd　give　some　of　it　away。'
　　'I've　got　trustees　and　they　won't　let　me。'
　　I　smiled　faintly。　I'd　had　Clement　Cornborough。　Trustees；　he'd　told　me　once　austerely；　were　there　to　preserve　and　increase　fortunes；　not　to　allow　them　to　be　squandered；　and　no；　he　wouldn't　allow　a　fifteen…year…old　boy　to　fund　a　farm　for　pensioned…off　racehorses。
　　'Why　do　you　think　it's　difficult　to　be　rich？'　she　demanded。　'It's　easy。'
　　I　said　neutrally；　'You　said　just　now　that　if　you　were　poor；　life　would　be　simple。'
　　'I　suppose　I　did。　I　suppose　I　didn't　mean　it。　Or　not　really。　I　don't　know　if　I　meant　it。　Why　is　it　difficult　to　be　rich？'
　　'Too　much　temptation。　Too　many　available　corruptions。'
　　'Do　you　mean　drugs？'
　　'Anything。　Too　many　pairs　of　shoes。　Self…importance。'
　　She　put　her　feet　up　on　the　bench　and　hugged　her　knees；　looking　at　me　over　the　top。　'No　one　will　believe　this　conversation。'　She　paused。　'Do　you　wish　you　were　rich？'
　　It　was　an　unanswerable　question。　I　said　truthfully　in　evasion；　'I　wouldn't　like　to　be　starving。'
　　'My　father　says；'　she　announced；　'that　one's　not　better　because　one's　richer；　but　richer　because　one's　better。'
　　'Neat。'
　　'He　always　says　things　like　that。　I　don't　understand　them　sometimes。'
　　'Your　brother　Sheridan；'　I　said　cautiously；　'doesn't　seem　to　be　happy。'
　　'Happy！'　She　was　scornful。　'He's　never　happy。　I've　hardly　seen　him　happy　in　his　whole　life。　Except　that　he　does　laugh　at　people　sometimes。'　She　was　doubtful。　'I　suppose　if　he　laughs；　he　must　be　happy。　Only　he　despises　them；　that's　why　he　laughs。　I　wish　I　liked　Sheridan。　I　wish　I　had　a　terrific　brother　who　would　look　after　me　and　take　me　places。　That　would　be　fun。　Only　it　wouldn't　be　with　Sheridan；　of　course；　because　it　would　end　in　trouble。　He's　been　terrible　on　this　trip。　Much　worse　than　usual。　I　mean；　he's　embarrassing。'　She　frowned；　disliking　her　thoughts。
　　'Someone　said；'　I　said　without　any　of　my　deep　curiosity　showing；　'that　he　had　a　bit　of　trouble　in　England。'
　　'Bit　of　trouble！　I　shouldn't　tell　you；　but　he　ought　to　be　in　jail；　only　they　didn't　press　charges。　I　think　my　father　bought　them　off。。。　and　anyway；　that's　why　Sheridan　does　what　my　parents　say；　right　now；　because　they　threatened　to　let　him　be　prosecuted　if　he　as　much　as　squeaks。'
　　'Could　he　still　be　prosecuted？'　I　asked　without　emphasis。
　　'What's　a　statute　of　limitations？'
　　'A　time　limit；'　I　said；　'after　which　one　cannot　be　had　up　for　a　particular　bit　of　law…breaking。'
　　'In　England？'
　　'Yes。'
　　'You're　English；　aren't　you？'　she　asked。
　　'Yes。'
　　'He　said；　〃Hold　your　breath；　the　statute　of　limitations　is　out　of　sight。　〃'
　　'Who　said？'
　　'An　attorney；　I　think。　What　did　he　mean？　Did　he　mean　Sheridan　is。。。　is。。。'
　　'Vulnerable？'
　　She　nodded。　'。。。　for　ever？'
　　'Maybe　for　a　long　time。'
　　'Twenty　years？'　An　unimaginable　time；　her　voice　said。
　　'It　would　have　to　have　been　bad。'
　　'I　don't　know　what　he　did；'　she　said　despairingly。　'I　only　know　it's　ruined　this　summer。　Absolutely　ruined　it。　And　I'm　supposed　to　be　in　school　right　now；　only　they　made　me　e　on　this　train　because　they　wouldn't　leave　me　in　the　house　alone。　Well；　not　alone；　but　alone　except　for　the　servants。　And　that's　because　my　cousin　Susan　Lorrimore；　back　in　the　summer；　she's　seventeen；　she　ran　off　with　their　chauffeur's　son　and　they　got　married　and　there　was　an　earthquake　in　the　family。　And　I　can　see　why　she　did；　they　kept　leaving　her　alone　in　that　huge　house　and　going　to　Europe　and　she　was　bored　out　of　her　skull　and；　anyway；　it　seems　their　chauffeur's　son　is　all　brains　and　cute；　too；　and　she　sent　me　a　card　saying　she　didn't　regret　a　thing。　My　mother　is　scared　to　death　that　I'll　run　off　with　some。。。'
　　She　stopped　abruptly；　looked　at　me　a　little　wildly　and　sprang　to　her　feet。
　　'I　forgot；'　she　said。　'I　sort　of　forgot　you　are。。。'
　　'It's　all　right；'　I　said；　standing　also。　'Really　all　right。'
　　'I　guess　I　talk　too　much。'　She　was　worried　and　unsure。　'You　won't。。。'
　　'No。　Not　a　word。'
　　'Cumber　told　me　I　ought　to　mind　my　tongue；'　she　said　resentfully。　'He　doesn't　know　what　it's　like　living　in　a　mausoleum　with　everyone　glowering　at　each　other　and　Daddy　trying　to　smile。'　She　swallowed。　'What　would　you　do'；　she　demanded；　'if　you　were　me？'
　　'Make　your　father　laugh。'
　　She　was　puzzled。　'Do　you　mean。。。　make　him　happy？'
　　'He　needs　your　love；'　I　said。　I　gestured　to　the　path　back　to　the　Chateau。　'If　you'd　like　to　go　on　first；　I'll　follow　after。'
　　'e　with　me；'　she　said。
　　'No。　Better　not。'
　　In　an　emotional　muddle　that　I　hadn't　much　helped；　she　tentatively　set　off；　looking　back　twice　until　a　bend　in　the　path　took　her　out　of　sight；　and　I　sat　down　again　on　the　bench；　although　growing　cold　now；　and　thought　about　what　she'd　said；　and　felt　grateful；　as　ever　and　always；　for　Aunt　Viv。
　　There　wasn't　much　wrong　with　Xanthe；　I　thought。　Lonely；　worried；　only　half　understanding　the　adult　world；　needing　reassurance；　she　longed　primarily　for　exactly　what　Mercer　himself　wanted；　a　friendly　united　family。　She　hadn't　thought　of　affronting　her　parents　by　cuddling　up　to　a　waiter：　very　much　the　reverse。　She　had　tried　to　put　me　into　a　difficult　position：　had　been　without　guile　or　tricks。　I　wouldn't　have　minded　having　a　younger　sister　like　her　that　I　could　take　places　for　her　to　have　fun。　I　hoped　she　would　learn　to　live　in　peace　with　her　money；　and　thought　that　a　month　or　so　of　serving　other　people　in　a　good　crew　like　Emil；　Oliver　and　Cathy　would　be　the　best　education　she　could　get。
　　After　a　while　I　scanned　the　whole　Chateau　and　its　gardens　with　the　binoculars　but　I　couldn't　see　Filmer；　which　wasn't　really　surprising；　and　in　the　end　I　set　off　again　to　walk；　and　detoured　up　on　to　the　foot　of　the　glacier；　trudging　on　the　cracked；　crunchy；　grey…brown…green　fringe　of　the　frozen　river。
　　Laurentide　Ice；　one　of　the　passengers　had　knowledgeably　said　early　on；　was　the　name　given　to　one　of　the　last　great　polar　ice　sheets　to　cover　most　of　Canada　twenty　thousand　years　before。　Daffodil；　nodding；　had　said　her　husband　had　named　the　horse　because　he　was　interested　in　prehistory；　and　she　was　going；　to　call　her　next　horse　Cordilleran　Ice；　the　sheet　that　had　covered　the　Rockies。　Her　husband　would　have　been　pleased；　she　said。　I　could　be　standing　at　that　moment　on　prehistoric　Cordilleran　Ice　perhaps；　I　thought；　but　if　glaciers　moved　faster　than　history；　perhaps　not。　Anyway；　it　gave　a　certain　perspective　to　the　concerns　of　Julius　Apollo。
　　Back　at　the　Chateau；　I　went　upstairs　and　drafted　a　new　scene　for　the　script；　and　I'd　barely　finished　when　Zak　came　knocking　to　enquire　for　it。　We　went　into　his　room　where　the　cast　had　already　gathered　for　the　rehearsal；　and　I　looked　round　their　seven　faces　and　asked　if　we　still　had　the　services　of　begging　Ben；　who　was　missing　from　the　room。　No；　we　didn't；　Zak　said。　He　had　gone　back　to　Toronto。　Did　it　matter？
　　'No。　not　really。　He　might　have　been　useful　as　a　messenger；　but　I　expect　you　can　pretend　a　messenger。'
　　They　nodded。
　　'Right；'　Zak　said；　looking　at　his　watch。　'We're　on　stage　in　two　and　a　half　hours。　What　do　we　do？'
　　'First；'　I　said；　'Raoul　starts　a　row　with　Pierre　Raoul　is　furious　to　have　been　discovered　to　be　Angelica's　husband；　and　he　says　he　positively　knows　Pierre　owes　thousa