man, he looks ugly

"Follow me, my dear." The pigeon with a pocket watch hanging around its neck walked back and forth in front of me.

"Shouldn't you be a rabbit?" I asked in confusion.

"Rabbit? What a rabbit! I'm a pigeon!" It fluttered its wings and cooed.

It's weird that I can understand its sound.

The pigeon with the pocket watch bouncing around in front of it made me feel quite funny. It behaves like a rabbit, but insists on calling itself a pigeon, and its tone of voice is somewhat similar to that of Little E.

When I arrived, the dove led me to a dark mirror framed by rose vines made of pure gold.

"Shouldn't mirrors be transparent and reflective?"

"Because those mirrors can't get in." It continued to pace leisurely, and then fanned me into the mirror with its wings while I wasn't paying attention.

Plants growing to the sky are everywhere in the mirror, such as palm trees, yellow willows, roses, tulips...their textures are as smooth and oily as candles, and they glow faintly in places with insufficient light, and there are faint lights flickering in the sky , Each firefly has sharp thorns on its head, and they use fire to light up the tops of the thorns, making the night sky look like daytime.

"Follow us." The little fireflies sang together.

Mr. Pigeon was at the forefront of the team, and the fireflies were arranged in two rows, extending into the distance like street lights.

I walked for a long time, through the garden, through the table, through the stage, and finally came to the palace.

A man stands at the gate of the palace.

He was wrapped in tattered black cloth, only a brand new black tall hat was on his head, and there were no facial features on his face.

It's weird that I'm not afraid of him, as if I've been sure he won't hurt me.

"Are you a hatter?" I asked curiously.

"Why do you think I'm a hatter?" God, his voice was more melodious than sacred music.

"Because your hat is new."

"Couldn't a man get a new hat? Wouldn't a man be considered a hatter if he changed his hat? Such a narrow and disrespectful opinion!" The man was angry, and he shouted menacingly.

"I was wrong." I quickly apologized.But I was thinking in my mind, you are so fierce, no wonder you are considered a hatter.

"You should apologize more sincerely!" He shook his fist.

"I was really wrong, please forgive me." As if inspired, I stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the face.

It was cold, his face.

This time, the man was quiet.

"So, can you tell me about your profession?" I decided to rehearse the opening line.

"I'm a hatter," he said resignedly.

"... Then, Mr. Hatter, what are you doing here?"

"I want to give you a crown, a crown spun from silver thread and woven from gold thread." From behind him, he conjured up a dreamy, dazzling sun and moon-like crown, and put it on my head.

"You are my queen," said the Hatter.

Panic came suddenly, I was at a loss, and a reason rushed into my head.

"I can't marry you casually, some people don't agree."

"You're my queen, you're my queen, you're my queen..." the Hatter repeated over and over like a mechanical clock that had been stuck.

Just when I was about to cry, a soft voice rang in my ear.

"Meg, Meg..."

I woke up from the dream, and Christine was looking at me with helpless and gentle eyes.

"Mom told you to go to the dance studio," she said.

Rubbing my confused eyes, I put the yellow-covered "Alice in Wonderland" back on the bookshelf, and straightened the wrinkled skirt.

It has to be said that the author of this book, Lewis Carroll, is simply a genius. It is really unexpected that the British, who have always been rigid, can create such a strange and dreamy fairy tale world, so that people can't get rid of its influence in their sleep.

As soon as I entered the dance studio, my heart skipped a beat by Mrs. Geary's expression.

Mrs. Geary has always attached great importance to the emotional fluctuations of her daughters. She has seen many actors who cannot get out of emotional infection, gloomy, fragile, and lost their souls.So whenever something bad happens, she communicates it to us herself and then shows how much she loves us, no matter how tragic it is.

She handed me a letter, the wax on it was different from the usual ones, it was black.

Normally, people don't use black wax unless it's big sad news, or an obituary when a loved one dies...

When I read the contents of the letter paper clearly, I felt that I was poured from head to toe by a basin of ice water, which took away all the blood and temperature from my body.

This letter is from the Perry family.

The sender was Sally Perry.

The content was the news of Mrs. Perry's death.

It is said that Mrs. Perry was overwhelmed with grief by the death of her husband, and her health deteriorated, and finally she died of her injuries.

But as someone who has experienced a poisoning case, I know it all too well.

How could a woman who killed her husband with her own hands, and a woman who had a lover who wanted to remarry, die of grief and pain?

Sally was only 11 years old, how would she face the cruel fact that her parents died?

In order to rush to the funeral, Mrs. Geary took out the mourning dress from the box, and with the help of Christine and me, she remade the mourning dress overnight.

The original narrow sleeves were disassembled, and a layer of black lace was sewn on. They bloomed in a flower shape, like the residual wings of a butterfly. The neckline was also cut off, and a brand new lace was sewn on, with an opal brooch, Jiri Madam's pure black top hat was also inserted with hastily dyed black feathers.

Compared with the last visit, Perry's house is obviously much more lonely this time. Black curtains are looming in front of every window. The path leading to the garden is still gloomy in summer, but the plants on the roadside are mostly Withered and replaced without care, it shows the body of their mistress, which has gradually decayed since the midsummer.

There were very few people attending the funeral, and the veritable aristocrats were unwilling to get in trouble with the Perry family, and friends who were not very close were even more shy of snakes and scorpions. This situation is quite normal in Paris.

Charlie, the coachman, drove the carriage away from the door of Perry's house in a hurry, as if staying just one minute longer would infect the misfortune of Perry's family.

I walked into Perry's house with the hem of my skirt, and the panicked servants gathered in the room to pray, crossing their chests constantly; only an old man who claimed to be Earl Perry's uncle greeted the guests, with a timid expression, As if the black suit on his body was stolen.

This strange atmosphere made me feel more urgent to find Sally Perry, who was the biggest victim of this funeral. I don't know where this sensitive and precocious girl is hiding now.

The architectural layout of Perry's house was a bit chaotic. I opened the door in the reception room and walked into the study, and walked out of the study to the dining room...

In the end, I found Sally in the living room. She was sitting in front of the window sill, her two slender and clean legs were exposed, she was not wearing stockings, and she was a bit deviant. What about the girl's attire?

"Sally?"

Maybe it's because her back is thinner than ordinary girls, maybe her skin is more transparent than frog flesh under the sun, I hardly dare to call her name out loud, for fear of disturbing anything.

"You're here." Seeing me, she raised her lips unnaturally, showing a chilling smile.

After several seconds of mental construction, I dared to approach her and hug her.

"Honey, I'm so sorry you're only 11 years old and going through this human tragedy."

"Meg, has anyone ever told you that you are too simple and self-righteous." Sally's mouth made me feel chills in my bones.

"My dear, you are too stimulated."

"You always feel that you can save something, and you don't hesitate to give kindness, but you never think about whether what you give is what others need." Sally went on talking, her chin resting on my shoulder, That swan-like neck seemed as cold as crystal without the moisture of fresh blood.

"Sally, tell me the truth, your mother...really, is..."

"Of course not." She broke free from my arms, her eyes were deeper and sharper than adults, and there was a dangerous emotion with malicious intentions.

"Could it be..." I tried to ask something, but was stopped by my intuition crazily. This answer may be too shocking, and I can't bear it at all, especially if it comes from Sally.

"Earl Shani is waiting for you in my mother's room, maybe you would like to chat with him." Sally turned her face away, and continued to look at the overwhelming plants and leaves outside the window. After the cool breeze, it presents a sickly green.

"Autumn is dying."

As I closed the door, Sally was muttering ecstatically.

If, as Sally said, I found Philip Shaney in Mrs. Perry's room.

The windows are covered with a layer of black tulle, which blocks the already dim light. The room is filled with a cold atmosphere that ordinary people cannot understand, mixed with various perfumes and powder smells unique to women's rooms, which is particularly ghostly. Mrs. Perry was on that huge and luxurious dark purple bed. From being healthy and strong, to dying, until she gasped and closed her eyes, I couldn't help shivering.

Philip was standing by the bed covered in black. Having seen many death cases, he was used to being with the dead. He was holding a crystal bottle in his black leather gloved hand, which contained a thin layer of pink liquid.

"Sally invited you too?" Seeing me walking in, Philip frowned suddenly.

At the end of Thermidor, after I refused this man's request to be his mistress at the back door of the theater, I never met and talked with him again. When two people avoid deliberately, even if they are in the same theater, they can always meet Missed each other by coincidence.

"Yes, yes, I think she may need someone to accompany her." The feeling of unfamiliarity made me a little uncomfortable talking to him.

"You shouldn't have come." Philip retracted his gaze and focused on the crystal bottle in his hand. I recognized that it seemed to be a perfume bottle. Philip had been looking at it, maybe there was something weird about it.

"Is this Mrs. Perry's perfume bottle?"

"I have a guess, a guess that has not been verified. This perfume is very weird. It appears in the bedroom of the most fashionable lady in Paris, but there is no sign of any store on it." He played with the perfume bottle in his hand, repeating Checked it again and again, but didn't open it.

This perfume is poisonous!

Fear made me take a step back unconsciously.

There was a flash in my head, and I remembered what Eric had said.

When I went to the Persian, there was a bottle of perfume similar to this in his room, and I just sniffed it a few times before I passed out...

"This perfume...is it poisonous?" My calf convulsed unconsciously, and I couldn't help but retreat again and again.

"It looks like you know something?" Felipe noticed the fear on my face, narrowed his eyes slightly, put the perfume back on the table, and walked towards me with a dangerous aura.

"No, I don't know, you said this perfume is weird, I, I'm very scared." I was in a panic, speaking desperately to cover up the great panic and shock in my heart.

"This bottle of perfume may be the cause of Mrs. Perry's internal organ failure. As long as I take it to Julian for a test, I will know the result..."

"Who wants Mrs. Perry dead, then?" I interrupted his reasoning.

"Hahaha! My dear, you are as sharp as ever." Philip burst into a fit of laughter that shook the whole room.

Frightened by his distorted face, I quickly saluted and ran out of the room.

The sunlight falls evenly outside and fills the courtyard, but this house looks ghostly, like a huge beast that never knows how to be satisfied, inciting people to have vicious desires and absorbing the dark thoughts in their hearts. The production and management plans to throw its two masters into hell successively.

Escaping from the house, I held on to the iron grille door and tried to catch my breath, but I was still haunted by dizziness and nausea.

Charlie hurried over to the carriage.

It wasn't until I hid in the car that I was finally able to catch my breath normally.

I went to the Perry family funeral and I was so tired that when I got back to the theater, Christine came to help me and staggered me back to the dormitory. It is water mixed with gastric juice.

Christine turned pale with fright, and trotted off to find Mrs. Geary before I could catch her.

I curled up on the bed feeling like my bones had been ripped out of me, tired and dizzy, and it took me 10 minutes to get better from this sudden bad feeling.

When the doctor arrived, after feeling exhausted, I collapsed on the bed like a wrung shirt, opened my eyes and looked towards the roof with all my strength.

"My dear, what's the matter with you?" Mrs. Geary put her hand on my forehead.

By reading her expression, I knew how ugly my face was.

"Nothing, just a sudden feeling of dizziness and nausea."

The doctor looked at my face, carefully checked my nails, tried my pulse, and did a series of trivial checks before asking, "Have you eaten today?"

"No..." Looking at Mrs. Geary's frown, I feel a little guilty.

After listening to my answer, the doctor asked again, "So, is your menstruation normal?"

This question made me feel a little embarrassed and hard to say, but fortunately Christine answered it for me with a blushing face, "She is often late, and this month is the same."

"It's anemia." The doctor said firmly.

"Can anemia make you vomit?" Mrs. Geary, who had seen many symptoms of anemia, frowned and asked.

"Rarely, but it doesn't mean it's impossible, maybe she was frightened or something. I think she must pay more attention to her diet. This is anemia caused by typical malnutrition. She is too thin and has a bad stomach. She must eat enough. Milk and meat." The doctor put the stethoscope back into the box and told Mrs. Geary, "It's best to stay in bed more."

Christine sent the doctor to the door, and Mrs. Geary made the pillow under my head more comfortable. She touched my hand. It was terrible. Even Mrs. Geary, who had a slightly lower body temperature all the year round, felt better than me. His body temperature was high, "Tell mom, what did you experience at Perry's house?"

"Mom It's nothing, the atmosphere in their house is a bit weird, so I came back quickly."

Mrs. Geary didn't quite believe it, but it seemed that she couldn't bear to ask me, and sighed, "My child, your daily routine is very abnormal these days, tell me the reason?"

I shrank half of my face back into the quilt with a guilty conscience, "It's nothing, Mom, maybe it's raining a lot recently, and I don't have much appetite."

How dare I tell Mrs. Geary frankly that in order to find time for a date with Eric after my heavy ballet training, my eating and sleeping are in a rather unhealthy vicious cycle.

But in an instant, Christine betrayed me, and she told Mrs. Geary all about my carelessness these days.Even the fact that I drank a glass of water and hurried out this morning was reported.

This girl is really upright.

"Is it because of the Earl of Shani?" Mrs. Gilly stroked my face, her palm was as warm as the early morning sun, "You haven't recovered from the hurt he caused you, and he also attended the funeral today Is it."

God knows, at that moment, I really wanted to tell Mrs. Geary, it’s not like that, I don’t have any emotional entanglement with Philip, but once I deny it...how can I explain my abnormalities these days? , Can you tell the whole story about Eric's existence?

After struggling for a long time, I could only retort with a guilty conscience, "No, it's not him, Mom, it's really because of the weather, I swear I will try to eat more."

In the end, Mrs. Geary finally let me go after I swore and swore repeatedly and took Christine over as a guarantor.

Christine closed the door, took the candy box out of the cabinet, and put it on the bedside. The expression in her black eyes was serious and serious, "Meg, tell me, who gave it to you."

"Christine..."

"Don't lie to me, don't fool me with the words you used to say to your mother, the box is always full of candy, even if you don't eat it, it will be replaced frequently, you always disappear from people's eyes... he just In the theater, right beside us, right?" She, who has always been careful, finally couldn't hold back the details of those around me.

"I am in love with a, a shadow, an impossible shadow."

I smiled wryly and put the lid back on the candy box.

"Don't ask me, Christine, if I have the courage to speak out, I will be the first to tell you."

The author has something to say: I originally wanted to promote the plot...but, it was an accident...

A piece of good news to tell everyone, little M's voice will recover.