marvelous rosaline

22

Miss Dirksen's funeral was just two days away.

Both of her parents died, and she was born in poverty. After her accidental death, there was no one to collect her body.It was raining on the day of the funeral, and the cemetery was deserted, except for some old friends and colleagues who couldn’t get away out of face.

Ironically, her lover, Mr. Farrell, was not present.

Rosalin stood at the back of the funeral crowd. She didn't open an umbrella, and let the fine raindrops fall on the shoulders of the black dress.The coffin fell into the grave, and the pastor's eulogy fluttered in the rain. Rosalin took a light breath, but felt in a good mood.

She has always liked the smell of the cemetery, the wet soil, the green grass and the flowers offered by people. The three different smells are mixed together, which is a real and natural taste.The natural world is not influenced by human culture. For the flowers and grasses that thrive on the land, death is just another nourishment for life.

How can such a pleasant smell attract people's fear and disgust.

It's just that the natural smell is wonderful, but the sound that reaches Rosalin's ears is not so good.

The crowd silenced the discussion, but Rosalin could hear it clearly.

"She always wants to be famous in her dreams, so she is also famous, isn't she?"

"When I was alive, I didn't make headlines, but after I died, my name was written on the front page of The New York Times. It's not a loss."

"I don't know if Mr. Farrell needs another lover? I think he needs someone to fill his place."

"Oops, you're dreaming again."

Rosalin couldn't help raising her eyebrows.

Therefore, she always felt that Miss Marple's worries were a little fussy.What's wrong with not being able to feel other people's emotions?

!Ordinary people can empathize with others, but if she arranges the dead in such a way, Xiao wants to quickly replace her as soon as she is buried. Does she have a conscience?

She tossed her hair lightly.

The drenched water droplets splashed with Rosalin's movements, and the next moment, a black umbrella enveloped her head.

The murmured discussion ahead suddenly stopped.

Ok?

Rosalin turned her head along the handle of the umbrella hovering beside her.

It was Gatsby.

To attend the funeral, today's Jay Gatsby is dressed in a black formal suit, which is British at first glance.Rosalin also noticed that there was a clean white handkerchief folded in his left breast pocket, an umbrella was held in one hand, and a wooden walking stick in the other.With this dress and style, it is not an exaggeration to say that he is a wooden mannequin brought to life from a Savile Row window.

"Why are you here, sir."

Luo Sailin was slightly surprised: "I heard that you have been busy with securities trading these two days."

Gatsby naturally stood beside Rosalind and held up an umbrella for her.

Under the eyes of the crowd who were probing openly and secretly, the man's face remained as usual.Gatsby said frankly, "I'm here for you."

Rosalin: "I'm not dead, it's so unlucky for you to speak."

Gatsby:"……"

Facing the speechless expression of the other party, Rosalin thought about it carefully, and finally realized: what he meant was that she was worried about her own safety.

Ok.

At any rate, Miss Dexen died in front of him, and she got involved.For an ordinary person, such an experience can be regarded as an unforgettable experience.It's just that Rosalin has witnessed murders and dealt with police detectives since she was a child. She has long been used to it, and she didn't react for a while.

"It's okay." Rosalin replied generously, "I'm fine. He still said in the police station that he wanted to be friends with me."

Gatsby's hand holding the handle of the umbrella tightened suddenly.

The eyes with the same color as the sea turned around, and there was a hidden look in them: "Have you seen Ananxi?"

Rosalin raised a bright smile: "I didn't say his name was Annecy, sir."

Gatsby:"…………"

Look, tell her to catch it.

Rosalin tilted her head almost complacently, and she continued: "You clearly know Ananxi, but he instigated others to kill me, but you didn't stop him."

Gatsby frowned fiercely.

He can argue.

In fact Roscelyn does not intend to accuse Gatsby: he is clearly ignorant.Otherwise, Gatsby would have rushed to the detective agency immediately to find out what happened, so why would he have waited two days later.

"Anansi and you," asked Gatsby, "what did you say?"

Rosalind moved her gaze to Gatsby's cane.It was a standard clesco cane, with a classic brand and a classic shape, without any metal or carving as decoration.

"Your cane is of an old style," she said.

"Annecy is dangerous, Rosalind," insisted Gatsby.

"How about a silver-plated handle?"

"All his words are to achieve his own goals, and he cannot be trusted."

"This is in line with the illusion of your Oxford graduation."

"Rosalind!"

Gatsby's slightly raised voice stopped the priest from speaking.Everyone turned their heads one after another, and their secret gazes turned into bright stares.Even Mr. Gatsby, who was used to others' comments and judgments, had to withdraw his gaze and gesture of warning. The man lowered his head: "I'm sorry."

When the pastor continued, he took a deep breath.

"If you like collecting canes," said Gatsby, "I can give you a brand new one."

"do not like."

Rosalin simply rejected Gatsby.There was no expression on her delicate face: "But if you don't talk about the cane, what else can you talk about, sir? I am not familiar with you. I have only met you a few times and attended a dinner together. It is absolutely impossible to talk about my private life. Let's go."

To her, Gatsby was just a little bit inexplicable.

He recognized her immediately, and then he seemed to call himself Rosalind's brother, saying she shouldn't come to New York and paying to keep her heroine.It is true that he said it was to repay his mother's favor, but this is too familiar.

Rosalinn was blunt.

If it were someone else, they would probably have shown embarrassment, or simply turned into anger, angrily scolding Rosailin for being ignorant.

But Gatsby was taken aback when he heard the words, and then fell into deep thought.

After a while, he spoke slowly,

"...I did force it, Rosalind."

His tone was not without sincerity, and his eyes, which almost covered the entire ocean, showed a relaxed look: "I apologize to you. From your point of view, I am almost a stranger."

This——surprised Rosalind a bit.

Except for her grandfather, no one of the opposite sex has ever sincerely apologized to Rosalind.As Rosalin entered puberty, many peers showed affection to her, but when Rosalin showed a little bit of toughness, she looked smarter and more capable than them, and the other party would either run away with her tail between her legs, or just stand up. face to accuse her of being "abnormal".

But Gatsby accepted her argument.

"But if Anansi can be your friend," said Gatsby, "so can I."

Yes, yes, but Rosalind thinks that Annecy is more interesting.

Gatsby seemed to have sensed the meaning of Rosalind's silence, and he continued, "Maybe I'm not as smart as him, but I think I have my own advantages."

"Then talk about it."

"I will respect you more than him." Gatsby explained seriously: "Isn't that important?"

Rosalin raised the corners of her mouth again.

"Since I can't keep you from getting involved, I might as well tell you everything," said Gatsby, "from my acquaintance with Ms. Poirot to the Times Theater and the Relics. What you want to know and I know, I can tell you everything, but I have an unkind request."

"You said."

"Anansi encouraged others to poison (), one is to get in touch with you, and the other is... I had some quarrels with him before, and he is also warning me by framing you." Gatsby's tone was a little heavy: "Rom Celine, it's not safe for you to live in the detective agency, I hope you can live in my mansion until the whereabouts of the relics are confirmed."

What he said was the implementation of the whereabouts of the relics.

Although Gatsby wasn't going to stop Rosalind from investigating the relic, he wasn't going to give it up to her either.

interesting.

Rosalin was afraid that the whole thing would become uncompetitive, how boring it would be.

"Hmm..." Rosalin curled her lips, but said nothing.

"What conditions do you have, just ask them."

"Living in Long Island is too far from the urban area, and the transportation is inconvenient." Roseline said.

"I can hire a professional driver for you." Gatsby responded without thinking.

"I still have to go to the detective agency."

"Mr. Thiago Mara is free to come and go, and I will also set up a dedicated telephone line for you."

Telephone bills were extremely expensive in 1925.Although the detective agency also has a telephone, Rosalin cannot afford it due to the precarious financial situation.Mr. Gatsby is generous, and he solved Rosalin's communication cost problem with one sentence.

"That--"

When it came to this point, Rosalin really couldn't find anything wrong with it.

"But I don't like crowded people," she muttered in a low voice, "Too noisy environment will affect my thinking."

But Mr. Jay Gatsby couldn't stop throwing parties because of her.His mansion is lit up every weekend with a purpose.

"I'll tell the housekeeper," Gatsby sighed, "to arrange you in the brightest and most secluded guest room. Even if it's me, I won't disturb you at will. How about that?"

This is already Gatsby's biggest concession.

Rosalin accepted it as soon as she saw it: "Okay."

Her understated affirmation won the man's obvious reassurance.His slightly tense body was visibly slack to the naked eye, and a bit of warmth flashed in those sea-blue eyes. Gatsby spread his palms towards her: "A deal?"

Rosalin stared at the man's broad palm for a while.

"It's a word."

She stretched out her hand, and her white and slender fingertips barely made contact with it.

Well, the first step went well.

——Rosalin had already guessed that after meeting Anansi, Gatsby would invite her to move in order to protect her.

She is really thinking about moving.

Brooklyn's industrial area was full of fish and dragons, and it was too easy for Sebastian Moran to blend in. Even if Rosalin had certain anti-reconnaissance skills, it would be difficult to catch him.

But it's different in West Egg, Long Island.

In the wealthy area full of mansions, Rosalin wanted to see where he could hide.