The days of eating soft rice in London

He managed to suppress the sad feelings these days.But now, his strands of sadness spiraled up again, almost rushing to his throat.The former lover's words seemed to be magnified countless times in his ears, "Just pretend that we have never met before!" It made his chest ache.

On the wide and visible road behind the park, that is, the private cemetery of the nobleman, on the white marble steps, only a few steps away from him, stood the woman who made him unforgettable.

She was Miss Camille--a well-known beauty in London--beautiful beauties-beautiful beauties!She was wearing her funeral attire now—a thick black cloak with a hood that Cousin Louise had given her and Flora that morning.

But at this moment, Camille was extremely disgusted with this cloak.She complained secretly, suspicious of this cousin who had studied in the fashion capital?

Cousin Louis's aesthetics are also a little too old-fashioned, which makes it impossible to see the thick black velvet dress she is wearing underneath.

Not at all.

Oscar was stunned by her outfit today in the woods across the road. Camille now exudes a simple and elegant beauty. He has never seen her like this, because she never wants to dress up like this, really Love it!

As soon as the black cloak was blown by the cold wind, her curvy body seemed to be trembling slightly, just like the Naples breeze blowing the lilies in the grass.

Her hair, combed for the evening ball, not yet fully fluffed, curled like budding hyacinths with all kinds of pearls and gems, coiled round and round her head, her shining eyes Instead of looking down at the grave where a loved one was buried, her big eyes were staring in a different direction entirely.

Damn it!She is looking at a youth!

The young man had a tall head and black hair that stood out from the crowd.

It was the man in the carriage that day.

Louis was dressed in a solid black cashmere suit, with the holly leaves on his chest being the only splash of color on his body.He stood upright in the cold wind, motionless, like a serious statue.

Suddenly, he took the cross and the scriptures from the pastor, and began to read the eulogy for the buried people.Oscar couldn't hear what he was saying, he could only see the neat and clean teeth that appeared from time to time from the closed two thin lips.

His white and slender fingers are holding the copper cross at this moment. The many blacks all over his body make his skin fair, and his lips are bright red, revealing a cold temperament, like a noble vampire, making gray everywhere The marble cemetery made an excellent backdrop for him.

This picture is simply amazing coordination!

And the vampire sculpture seemed to suddenly come to life when it opened its mouth to speak. His marble-like white face, fairy-like mouth and jaw, and white and slender hands kept moving because of the eulogy.In short, Oskar had never seen a face so completely in conformity with classical beauty as his, if you count the marble face of the Roman Emperor Commodus.

All of this should have been noticed long ago.

Camille may feel happy only when she is with such an eye-catching man.

Oscar lowered his big eyes stained with sadness.A funeral scene on a winter morning was vividly frozen in his mind. The beautiful lady and mysterious man, the solemn priest and the heavy atmosphere floated on the drawing board he was facing. He couldn't ignore the beautiful scene in his head. Isn't this the high-quality material for painting?

He took one more look at Miss Camille, determined to create the scene.Oscar in the painting is very difficult to be disturbed. In order to ponder a certain detail, he will even stop and think for a long time, so that he completely ignores the aristocratic carriage on the other side of the road and his beloved Camille. When did Miss Er disappear.

There were people coming and going in the park, and occasionally a few passers-by stopped to admire and asked him if he was still doing portrait painting today. He politely apologized to them, and immediately got into it again.

So when the work was finished, he put down his brush, and finally a smile appeared on his expressionless face, which had been serious for a long time, as gentle as the Sistine Madonna looking at the baby in her arms.

But at this moment, there was a sudden loud noise from his stomach, protesting that he had committed a serious crime of hunger.He rubbed his stomach, waiting for the paint to dry and thinking immodestly, hey, really, he's very satisfied.

"Hello, young man."

Oscar was stunned, and turned around to look.A woman wearing a wine-red lady's dress and a top hat of the same style was standing behind him for an unknown amount of time.

"I like your paintings very much. What's your name?" Oscar blushed suddenly: "Hi, madam, my name is Oscar Adrian."

"Okay, Oscar. I am the Duchess Carmel of the City of London, and I was thinking that you might sell me the painting, which would definitely make your work fully reflect its value."

"I'm sorry ma'am, because there is someone I love in the painting, and we just broke up, so I don't want to..."

Mrs. Carmel sneered in her heart.She saw a lot of young people who took the opportunity to raise their prices and thought they were talented.

"Oh? How about ten pounds?" Oscar suddenly raised his head, obviously frightened.

Ten pounds!Had he been scolded by his aunt for a change of luck!This is what he can't earn from selling paintings for five years!

Mrs. Carmel looked at the expression of the young man with satisfaction, and then said: "I have been passing here for many days, and I can always see you. It will be winter soon, and I think your thin tweed coat should be Get a new one, and your easel, which is obviously no longer usable."

Oscar lowered his head in embarrassment to look at his old partner who had a broken leg and was replaced temporarily.

"Fifteen pounds, how about it?" Mrs. Carmel looked at his hesitant expression, and said a higher number from her rather rosy lips.

You'd be an idiot if you didn't sell it.She hasn't met anyone who really has the so-called bullshit feelings. In her opinion, as long as you spend money, there is nothing you can't buy. Forget it, just thinking about this nasty phrase makes her want to gag.

The young man in front of him pondered silently, and from the eyes that started to wander around, we can see the battle between heaven and man in his heart.

A few seconds later, Oscar raised his eyes to face the proud old lady in front of him: "I'm really sorry, ma'am. I'll think about it, and I think... forget it... After all, this is the only portrait I drew for her. Sincerely thank you for your praise and consideration." Oscar nodded and apologized, packed up his belongings and left.

Well, Mrs. Carmel stood sullenly, she really had a fool today.

It was almost dark, and the young man walking on the streets of the district carried an easel on his back, and the setting sun dragged his shadow very long.

The money in hand should have been able to support this month's expenses, but tomorrow he promised to leave his uncle's house and find a new place to live.

"Poor ghost! Save yourself!"

Oscar looked up at his aunt who was dangerously protruding halfway out of the attic, confused.

"Ugly woman! I don't know who is poorer!"

Oscar turned his head to look at the low attic opposite, a woman with a child also opened the window and cursed.

Immediately afterwards, the aunt cursed back: "Do you think that everyone repairs the toilet like you so that the kitchen faces the ghostly patio?" Without leaving a chance to breathe, she continued to scream at the top of her voice: "Even if the economy recovers, you bitch! It is impossible to be willing to change the patio mouth! Because you will be poor in this life! Dirty devil!"

"Bitch, shut up, I will do what I say! But you, the dirty water is poured in front of my house! When have I ever come to teach you? You are like a mad dog now, shut up! You damn dog's mouth, don't come out to embarrass yourself!"

Oscar turned his head to look at his attic again, he believed that his aunt would never give in.

"I heard that your husband cheated on you with those dubious women and then come back to fuck you. You gave birth to a child at this juncture. I think you are being made even worse by him now!"

The three-month-old baby in the woman's arms didn't know whether it was rushed by the noise, or maybe it understood, and started crying loudly.

"It's none of your business! One day I'll cut your tongue out!" The woman on the opposite side slammed the door and window.

Well, his good aunt sure enough won again.

Louis was surrounded by two cousins ​​at this time, and Flora kept making requests to play the piano music, tirelessly.

The old jazz sat on the sofa and talked about politics with Louis. Although his nephew didn't talk coldly, but if they chatted, he meant that Louis would never let people down if needed.Presumably his son Joseph also held a position in the court, but he hesitated and hesitated to express his opinion on the dispute between Britain and Tsarist Russia.

"Russia's momentum makes it impossible to sit still. Once the control of the Balkan Peninsula is lost, Britain's influence in the Mediterranean will definitely be lost." Sir said.

"So Lord Melbourne is still trying his best to maintain the balance of the European continent after the war. Now Napoleon III of France does not have the talent and courage of his uncle, but France is an old country anyway. If you fight in the Balkans or the Black Sea, you can put it down. The deep hatred with France, behind it supports its resistance to the expansion of Tsarist Russia in the Near East."

"It's also based on if the French concessions on Egypt show enough kindness," the man said.

"We have to recognize France's technological superiority, which I have seen during my study tour, even with its limited battlefields," said Louis, his black hair stretched back on a soft sofa. Close to the eyes, it seems a little sleepy.

"No matter what, France will always be the final winner. The Holy Alliance, it looks like it's about to break up."

The author has something to say: ask for collection and comment