[La Traviata] The Road to Celebrities in Paris

Armand froze for a moment, and the black-haired young man narrowed his eyes slightly, as if he was trying to identify the person in front of him. After he saw clearly, he grinned and said inarticulately that it would be good to let him stay alone for a while .

"Are you sure?" Armand asked, the young man nodded, and then rolled inside with the quilt in his arms.

Armand hesitated for a while, but he also knew his friend's temper, so he left in the end.

After Armand left, the person on the bed sighed.

Gaston let himself rub against it bit by bit, leaning against the pillow, trying to wake himself up.

He took a breath, and then took out the ointment from under the bed, he tore off his collar, no one could help him now, so he squeezed some ointment and rubbed it on his back indiscriminately.

At first, the alcohol made the ointment sting a little after it came into contact with the skin, but he couldn't hold it back, and then he gritted his teeth to let the voice go back into his mouth.

The ointment was applied to the skin, and the shirt was pressed tightly against it. The young man frowned, but he didn't dare to be naked directly. He was worried that Armand would come back again. After all, he was always a person who worried too much.

Gaston leaned sideways so that his back was leaning against the wall, and he pulled up the quilt to cover himself, revealing only a pair of black eyes.

There is some chaos in the brain, and he is putting them back into place.

On the other hand, Margaret did not fall asleep immediately after returning to the room. The carnival downstairs made her sleepless, but it was more because Margaret really didn't want to miss the beautiful summer night outside Paris. .

She leaned against the window sill.

The stars are twinkling in the night sky, they look so carefree, Paris is always at their feet, they are born to stand on a high position, enjoying people looking up.

While Marguerite was thinking, there was a knock on the door. She recovered from her contemplation, walked to the door, and when she opened the door, she found that it was Armand.

"I saw the light leaking from your house, and thought you might not be asleep yet." The blond young man said softly.

Marguerite looked at each other, waiting for Armand's next words.

"I used to think about what I should say when you arrived, but after seeing you, I knew I didn't need to say anything."

Margaret smiled: "And I know you have thought about that, but you just feel happy because you are cared for, and that is never superfluous."

The young man laughed too.

After Armand left, Marguerite stretched her body. She went to the window and looked up at the stars again, but the feeling was different at this moment.

Even if some people do not need to work hard to be above the top, but through their own efforts to get everything will never be worse than them, but better.

Margaret closed the window, she didn't think about anything, just went to sleep, because tomorrow, what awaited her was a new beginning.

The next morning, Margaret got up early, and she went downstairs to go for a walk outside.

Aunt Sabina obviously couldn't get up so early today after yesterday's commotion, so Armand was the only one downstairs.

"Good morning." Marguerite greeted the young man, who asked if she was going out.

"Margaret raised the sketchbook in her hand: "I want to go outside and find some inspiration. "

"You haven't had breakfast yet."

"No need." Margaret shook her head, but the young man insisted.

"At least get something." He asked Margaret to wait, and turned to the kitchen by himself, and brought some sandwiches after a while.

Marguerite blinked and accepted Armand's kindness, and then she walked slowly along the Seine with a sketchbook and food.

On a summer morning, before the sun hit all the grass, it wasn't so hot, so Margaret didn't wear a hat. In the morning light, her neck was slender, her skin was fair, and she wore a light blue skirt It looks more delicate.

Margaret stared at the river, thinking how beautiful it would be if it was winter and the mist rising from the river.

She was thinking, suddenly, a flash of inspiration flashed in front of her eyes.

A smile appeared on the corner of Margaret's mouth, she took out a charcoal pencil and paper, and quickly painted on it.She drew a rough outline, the main body of the clothes was already there, and Margaret wanted to observe more sides, so she continued walking.

The Seine River meanders, and Marguerite stops to apply it from time to time. As the river goes farther and farther, the sun gradually rises, and there is thin sweat on her forehead.

She took a breath and decided to find a place to rest first.

Not far away, there is a forest, and one of the big trees looks like a good resting place.

Margaret wiped the sweat off her face and walked towards that place.When she got under the tree, she saw a checkered blanket, obviously someone had put it there.

"Why don't you sit down?" asked a voice, rich and graceful.

"I think you may need a break now."

Margaret followed the voice and looked over, a man wearing a top hat and a black three-piece suit that looked good to the touch came over.The man was about thirty years old, with a pair of light-colored eyes. He walked on this forest path, but he seemed to be leisurely in his own garden.

"I think it's yours," said Marguerite cautiously.

The man came over and smiled slightly: "Ms. always have rights."

The man made a gesture of invitation, and Margaret couldn't think of any words to refuse. Most importantly, looking at the sun above her head, she felt that the man was right.

"Thank you."

Margaret sat on the blanket, and the man who looked very gentleman did not sit down, but stood aside.

"This is yours, I think, I don't need to occupy too much space." Margaret said, and was about to move to the side, but the man stopped her.

"No, please sit down." The man said with a smile.

"It's not what a gentleman should do to make a lady feel uncomfortable."

Every move of the man carried a kind of casual elegance. Margaret could hear a hint of British accent in the man's voice, and from the man's square jaw and soft eyebrows, he was completely different from the French. Therefore, Ben Margaret took the initiative to ask the other party because she was occupying someone's seat and didn't want to feel at ease.

"You don't look very French."

"Oh, yes, ma'am, I grew up in England and my mother is French." The man took off his hat and bowed again.

"Are you here for tourism?" Margaret asked, licking her dry lips.

"No, I'm here to find a good friend." The man smiled and said with an apologetic look, "Can you wait here for a while?"

Although Margaret was a little strange, she still nodded.

The man returned after a while, holding a simple kettle and an exquisite teacup in his hand.

"I think you may need it." The man said, and handed the teacup to Margaret.

Margaret was a little dazed, and the other party's eyes widened, and then smiled: "Don't worry, I assure you, this is just a glass of ordinary water, after all, I still want to stay in France for a while, crime is nothing Good job." He joked.

"Oh, sir, I don't think so," Margaret explained.

"Well, maybe we just happened to experience a cultural gap?"

Margaret only smiled at this, and drank the tea after thanking the other party.

"Excuse me, do you know of anyone here who can repair carriages?" the man asked. He turned sideways to let Margaret see his carriage hidden in the woods. "The wheels are broken."

It was a very nice carriage, not that it was luxuriously decorated, but that it looked very convenient, even without horses, just like a large wooden tricycle.

Margaret opened her eyes wide. You must know that now there are generally two-wheeled light rail carriages, and there is no such carriage that can be walked by human power.

"This carriage is..." Margaret didn't finish, because she didn't know what words to use to describe this matter, but the man seemed to understand completely, and he smiled.

"Credit to my friend's genius brain."

"Yes, indeed." Margaret said sincerely, and even wondered in her mind whether that person was also...

However, before she could continue to think about it, the horse had already snorted, and seemed to be trapped in this place, which made the black steed a little impatient.

"Be patient, dear." The man went over to calm his horse.He teased the black horse behind its ears, then stroked its neck, and the black horse settled down strangely.

"I think I might have to get my carriage fixed sooner."

"I know there's an inn up ahead, and I think the lady proprietress there can always help you."

"That's great." The man smiled, and then he took off his hat again to apologize.

"I guess I haven't introduced myself yet, I'm Andrew Rose."

Margaret also introduced herself.

"Marguerite Gautier."

"Are you a tailor?" the man asked, looking at Margaret's manuscripts.

It was almost the first person to ask Margaret that she was a tailor, and not, like others, that her first impression of people was that of a courtesan in Paris.

"Yes, I am a tailor," said Margaret, a little emphatically.

"It's really remarkable," said the man. "I know the importance of a tailor."

"Indeed, I can see that." Margaret smiled.

The man froze for a moment, and Margaret looked at the other's clothes with her eyes, and said, "Your clothes are very exquisite, and the tailoring is very beautiful. I even urgently want to know the person who made the clothes for you."

"You're a connoisseur," the man said with a smile. "I think Mr. Brenner would love to meet you if given the chance. He's obsessed with it."

Mr. Ross let the steed go, he didn't even have to lead it, the black horse named Aldridge followed them leisurely with its tail swung.

"Why do you call it Aldrich?" Margaret was a little curious.

Mr. Rose looked at her and smiled faintly: "You don't think it is a wise ruler. I can't go anywhere without it. It rules me."

Margaret smiled, and they talked as they walked. Mr. Rosey was a funny man. He liked to walk around, so he knew a lot. Before they knew it, they had arrived at the door of Aunt Sabina's hotel.

After Armand came out, Marguerite told him the matter, and the young man quickly found an uncle who could repair wheels.

"Just rest, I'll bring you the carriage back later." When the uncle knew that Mr. Ross had a carriage that could walk around without the help of a horse, his eyes began to sparkle, as if he couldn't wait to see him See it, and try it out for yourself.

"Then I will trouble you." Andrew Rose did not refuse.

Armand was about to ask the gentleman to take a rest at the hotel, but the latter asked him instead.

"Where is the most famous gambling house in your place?"

Armand was a little dazed. He looked at the well-dressed and elegant gentleman in front of him, and really couldn't understand why the other party asked him where the gambling house was.