[Titanic] Ticket

Lester woke up very early, the blue sky light came in through the window, and fell mottled on the bed, Carl slept deeply, his cheeks were bulging under the messy hair - he looked a little cute for his age , the young man couldn't help showing a small smile.

It's such a good feeling,

"Good morning, Mr. Hockley." Lester leaned forward and kissed Carl on the forehead, then tried his best not to wake him up, carefully broke free from his arms and climbed out of bed.

"Good morning, Lester. You're up so early, I haven't got breakfast ready yet, sir." Mary, who was dusting the decorations with a feather duster, made a mock complaint, and then He quickly brought a cashmere blanket to cover Lester.

The young man smiled and sat down on the chair. The small round table was covered with a clean apple-green lace tablecloth, and a slender and elegant vase was placed on the table. Lester reached out and touched the delicate flowers in the vase, with a look of amazement He asked eagerly: "The flower of Agnes? This is a very rare species. I have seen it in the book - it looks so beautiful."

A young woman who looked familiar came over with a tray, carefully put down the teacup and a small white three-layer silver stand, and then explained in a low voice: "Captain Luo Shiqiang sent someone to deliver it earlier, he said This is a snowdrop cultivated in the greenhouse on the ship—it happens to be in flowering season, and I heard that it is very rare in the UK, so I hope you like it.”

"The flower that symbolizes new life, I'm afraid I need to thank you personally to express my gratitude." Lester smiled, "You seem to be adapting well, Rosalie."

The young woman lowered her hands embarrassingly, and pulled back the hair that fell by her ears: "Yes, yes, Miss Mary helped me a lot. She also lent me this dress."

"Don't be nervous, good girl, I don't mean anything else." Lester took a sip of tea, then picked a soft and sweet cookie from the plate and stuffed it into his mouth, chewed carefully before opening his mouth slowly, "It's a good thing. You are still willing to come back to us, which proves that the Strauss and his wife have great vision."

Rosalie smiled shyly: "Without me, you and Mr. Hockley can handle it very well. Master Victor—I mean Mr. Strauss Jr., he is a kind man, very filial, He will be very grateful to you."

Lester shrugged, he was a little reluctant to talk about this topic.

To be honest, he hasn't decided what to do with the golden key-whether to keep it for himself or give it back to the Strauss family. He never considered himself a saint, but the Strauss treated him well, two percent A [-]% stake may sound like a small amount, but for Macy's, an industry giant, it may not be incapable of playing a key role.

Lester does not believe that Mr. Strauss Jr., who took over the family business early, is a kind person. The capitalists of the [-]th century are the real power holders in American society. It is good to count on them to do charity occasionally. Who would dare Do you want this group of cold-blooded dictators who cannibalize people to wear that hypocritical cloak forever?

Mary, who was always considerate in this regard, came quickly and said softly, "Mr. Black and Mrs. Jessica are here."

Lester put down the teacup, and the slight clashing sound between the porcelain was clear and pleasant. He was silent for a while before he said, "Please come in. If possible, please help me prepare some food. Thank you, Mary."

……

Ash's face was very haggard, his eyes were always lowered - he didn't dare to look at Lester at all - the thick eyelashes were covered with deep shadows, like two blobs of black ink too thick to melt, he looked I didn't sleep all night.

Jessica ate breakfast without saying a word. She almost solved most of the things on the table by herself, and she didn't intend to stop talking at all-to be honest, she couldn't find anything else to do besides eating at this time It's over, look at these two people, their expressions are so dignified that one sentence can determine who the current President of the United States is.

"...What do you want to say, Ash?" Lester rubbed the center of his brows, and asked in a gentle tone. There was some fatigue on his face, not from the physical aspect, but rather from the soul.

The young man with golden brown hair trembled all over, and after a while—Jessica almost felt that he was not going to speak in his life—his voice sounded hoarse and dry: "... Lester, I must , had to come and say I'm sorry. I nearly killed Mr Hockley...he was right, I was a fool, totally."

Lester's tone was still gentle and calm, even with a persuasive meaning: "You shouldn't have said this to me. I have no position to accept this apology for Carl. If Jessica has explained everything, then Ah You should understand that I was one of the idiots who needed to apologize to him in this incident."

Ash's expression looked terrified, he even stood up in a gaffe - almost knocked over the teacup on the table, Jessica hurriedly held the teacup to remind him to be careful, lest these hard-to-clean tea stains get on Her brand new dress, but the young man was obviously out of hearing, his pale blue eyes were fixed on Lester, his tone was almost pleading: "Please, Lester, don't say that, please I don't know what to do, Ryan is dead, he's not on the list, I was trying to save him - and I almost succeeded..."

Ash covered his face, choked up and couldn't speak. He thought of the last scene of floating on the icy water. It was probably the longest and most painful period he had ever encountered in his life. His hopes were dimmed—the all-knowing and omnipotent God he believed in did not help him because he was kind to others, but instead imposed all suffering on him.

He thought about it all night.

If Lester hadn't come, they wouldn't even have survived the rescue of the Carpathia.

Or if he can force Ryan to join them with a stronger posture, will he be saved in the end-or the three of them will die together in the ice sea because of fighting for a piece of driftwood.

The depths of the clear water were so cold that he felt that even his soul would be condensed into ice and snow and imprisoned in the dark seabed forever just by imagining it.

He was frightened, and yet in that fright lay some fluke that made him ashamed and guilty.

Lester patted him on the shoulder: "Ryan's death is not your fault - even if you really treat him as a friend, you can't save everyone - don't try to take God's job, stupid boy, he But that’s all there is for entertainment.”

Jessica laughed foolishly, but Ash was still frowning. Lester paused, and then continued: "Man, you should think about it. No one can take care of you forever, Jessica can't, I No way—we're going to New York soon, what do you want to do?"

"...Idon't know." Ash blinked blankly and tugged on Lester's clothes, "Aren't you with me?"

"I have my own life, honey." Lester looked at him tolerantly, with some sighs in his eyes, Ash keenly felt something was wrong, but he couldn't tell what it was like, and finally he was rejected by Lester Sturt was coaxed away—he needed a good night's sleep, and he looked like a fish out of water—mouth open, breathless.

Jessica leaned against the door, watching the young man dangled away at the end of the corridor as if stepping on a ball of cotton, and then sneered, "You are so cruel, Mr. Roland. You kill without blood, and he was killed by you." Terrified."

Lester casually stroked the snowdrops in the bottle with his fingers: "What else should I do? If I had a choice, I would not choose such a person as my friend——Ash is not bad at all, innocent, enthusiastic, Kindness meets the standards of all best friends, but what I need is far from these."

"Youaregonnakillhim." Jessica bent down and whispered in his ear.

Lester smiled indifferently: "It's not that I didn't give him a chance to choose, ma'am."

……

The Carpathia arrived in New York three days later. Many people cried loudly the moment their feet set foot on the land. A large number of newspaper reporters were waiting at the pier, but this huge scene made them stop involuntarily. Honestly, Said that this kind of sad emotion is like a powerful infectious disease, which makes the onlookers both shocked and sympathetic.

Carl and Ruth made their way through the crowd, with Mrs. Bucket walking beside them at a leisurely pace—with her right hand on Carl's arm in an intimacy—and she came after her the next morning, claiming that Enduring the terrible conditions of the second class, Karl put her next to him for some reasons.

Lester and Jack followed them, talking animatedly.

A New York Times reporter tried to interview them.But Mr. Hockley is obviously not interested in this-God knows how hard he tried not to get rid of Ruth Bukett, especially when the reporter asked "Will this shipwreck affect your wedding?" "When this stupid question.

"...More than 300 people died in this accident. I'm afraid I won't be in the mood in the short term, sir." Carl said dryly, took Mrs. Bucket's hand from his arm, and turned around mercilessly. Let's go, not even willing to show a cold face to the reporter who hastily raised the camera to take pictures.

Ruth shrugged her shoulders. Her complexion was not very good, but she was not so straightforward, and she even thoughtfully found a reasonable excuse for Carl: "You know, after this incident, the stock price of White Star Company will inevitably plummet. You can't expect him to be in a good mood, I dare say that the shareholders of the entire Baixing Company will probably not be willing to give others a good face."

Mrs. Bucket put on an elegant smile—with her expensive jewelry and elegant clothes, she was really the most qualified high-society lady: "The wedding will proceed as scheduled."

She said softly, with a smile sweet enough to make headlines in the New York Times.