[La Traviata] The Road to Celebrities in Paris

"Sir, you know that's not a good place," said Aunt Sabina disapprovingly, coming down the stairs.

"I think my friend will be there," said Mr. Ross.

Aunt Sabina came to Armand's side, and she frowned: "Oh, in that kind of place." The older lady seemed to have a heartfelt hatred for the gambling house, even Marguerite Some surprised.

"I'll take you there." Armand said, and before Aunt Sabina could preach, the man nodded and thanked Armand for his kindness.

After a while they returned, and it was evident that Mr. Ross had not found his friend.

"Perhaps tomorrow," said Mr. Ross, not seeming despondent.

The carriage was repaired, and Mr. Ross decided to temporarily stay at Aunt Sabina's hotel.

He was well-spoken and seemed to be a well-bred man, and Aunt Sabina liked such easy-going and elegant people, so she specially entertained this gentleman at dinner, serving her best onion soup.

"In this case, I think I have to attend your wedding before leaving." Mr. Ross said with a smile. He took a sip of wine elegantly, congratulated Aunt Sabina and Franco, and said that he would send a gift gifts.

"You come to my wedding, one more person, one more hilarity is enough." Aunt Sabina said, but Mr. Ross just smiled.

"Madam, please take it as a gift of blessing. A happy and happy wedding can't be too much blessing."

"Okay, sir, you really know how to talk." Aunt Sabina smiled, and Mr. Ross raised his glass again.

"What a gentleman who can drink, like a Russian!" Someone said, and Mr. Ross turned around and clinked glasses with the slightly drunk uncle in mid-air.

Compared with Mr. Rose's good drinking capacity, Gaston is still in a state of not recovering. Margaret brought him some hangover fruits. He ate slowly, as if the day before yesterday because of excessive A squirrel who is extremely tired from picking up pine cones, but squirrels don't have beautiful black hair and white skin like plaster.

Margaret left early after dinner. She had vague inspirations for the things she drew today, and she had to go back and express them all.

At night, in the hotel room, near the window sill, the velvet curtains are drawn, just on the window sill, there is a bottle of martini, nice color, fragrant smell, the man shakes the alcohol in his hand, looks Hang around in the stars in the sky.

While Mr. Ross was drinking, a window beside him was opened, and a pair of white wrists appeared in midair.Under the bright moonlight, those hands were slender and soft, but not as pale as the noble lady.

Mr. Ross put down the goblet in his hand, and he looked at the hands. His good eyesight allowed him to clearly see the curvature of the opponent's knuckles.

As long as the owner of those hands stayed by the window sill, Mr. Rose stayed there for as long as he closed the window.

The black-haired man withdrew his gaze, picked up the drink by the window and continued his previous behavior.

The summer night wind blows, bringing a burst of coolness.

The next morning, Margaret still got up very early.Aunt Sabina's wedding dress has a prototype, but she's thinking about what stones to go with it.

"Are you going to go out?" Margaret saw Mr. Ross wearing a three-piece suit when she got off the escalator, and seemed to be going out.

"Yes, do you want to go for a walk together?" Mr. Rose invited.

Margaret thought for a while and said, "Are you going to find your friend?"

"Ah, you guessed it again." The man laughed, and walked up to Margaret, stretching out his arms to her.

This is a social custom in Paris, but in the Paris suburbs, few people take it seriously.

Margaret blinked, then took the other's arm, agreeing to the suggestion.

They walked along the street, Mr. Rosser is indeed a gentleman, his pace is not too slow, but not lukewarm.He is also a funny person, and he always has some interesting topics. Such people, God really treats them favorably.

"Would you like to see it?"

When Margaret was looking at the door of the casino, Mr. Rose asked.

Margaret was indeed a little curious about the casinos of this era. There are always some rich people looking for fun in high-end casinos, and most of them are men.

Margaret still hasn't given up the idea of ​​designing clothes for men. Although she is being suppressed now, she will do it one day.

"I do," said Margaret honestly, not ashamed of it.

There are only two kinds of people who can enter and leave the casino, men and their mistresses.

"But," she said calmly, looking up at the other party, "I'm a tailor, not anyone's mistress. I think, next time, I can come alone."

"I think I have to apologize. I didn't mean to belittle you," the man said.

"I can see that you want to go in and have a look."

"Indeed." Margaret said, she licked the hair on her cheeks, "You can see many different types and classes of men wearing clothes here."

"Then you have to go and have a look." The man smiled, and when Margaret was slightly stunned, he motioned for Margaret to follow him.

"Now I have a good idea." Mr. Ross said, and Margaret followed him suspiciously.

They went to a tailor's store, and Mr. Ross bought a men's clothing directly. Then, he asked Margaret to change into it, and stuffed enough money into the store.

The store doesn't care what the customers buy his ready-made clothes for, as long as they can be turned into francs, that's the best. As for the fun, if there are francs, he would rather slowly digest these curiosity in his mind.

Ten minutes later, two men came out of the clothing store.

The older man was taller, with beautiful dark skin, soft brows and eyes, and his resolute jaw did not look scary for this reason, but instead had an indescribably charming accent.

The thinner young man next to him has dark eyes, porcelain white skin, wearing a polite hat, and his calm face looks like a young master from a rich family.

Margaret was a little thankful for her lack of plump body.

These days, there are many young masters from noble families who are thin and tender. If you only take a cursory look, you may not be able to tell.

"I can't do my duty as a gentleman to you now that you're in this attire," said Mr. Ross, and he led Marguerite into the casino.

The environment of the casino can't be said to be bad, but the air circulation is indeed not very good, the smell of cigars is everywhere, and there are shouts from time to time.

Some boxes are obviously more civilized.

Mr. Rosser walked straight past the noisy tables, and walked into a box on the right.He didn't even knock on the door, just stopped outside and listened for ten seconds before pushing the door open.

Margaret wanted to stop the other party, but Mr. Ross was already standing straight at the door, and even she felt a little uneasy like a cave dweller exposed to the sun.

The environment in the box is very good, it can even be said to be elegant.

There were four people sitting inside, and it could be seen from the clothes that they were some elegant people. One of the men was holding a cigar and was holding a poker card in his hand. When Mr. Ross opened the door and entered, he raised his eyes to look at each other .

"I think my friend may be a little tired. Maybe everyone will be willing to let me replace him." Mr. Ross said with a smile. At the same time, he looked at the man who was out of place in this box.

Slightly obese body, white skin, a head of curly hair, and sharp eyes that don't fit a fat man.

Margaret remembered who this man was, the man at the train station.

The fat man smelled of alcohol, but he was not drunk. He didn't seem surprised by the appearance of Mr. Rose, but simply threw away the cards in his hand and prepared to leave.

"and many more."

Mr. Ross didn't move, just smiled and reached out to stop the man.

"My dear friend, you should have had enough fun outside."

The fat man frowned fiercely, just when Margaret thought the other party would stop, he turned sideways, and then left without anyone else.

"Sir..." Margaret lowered her voice and called.

The fat man glanced at Margaret, his brown eyes were a little cold, almost frightening.

Margaret was shocked for a moment, and then, after the other party left, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"You interrupted our fun." The man with a cigar in his mouth said, put down the cards in his hand, and at this moment, a few more people came in from outside the door, all of them were strong.

"Why do you think it's an interruption? I'm very happy to play with everyone." Mr. Ross said slowly.

"Very well, you said that fat man is your friend, sir, I have to remind you how much he owes us." A middle-aged man with a bald head said.

Mr. Ross smiled slightly: "That's just right, I was thinking of doing something for my friend."

A waiter came in and pulled a chair for Mr. Russell.

When the waiter wanted to give Margarita a chair, Mr. Russell pressed the back of the chair.

"I like to play alone."

"Yes, sir." The waiter bowed and left.

In the gambling house, taking a seat means you will start the game, or, as a mistress, clinging to your lover's body in front of everyone like a vase and vines, Margaret will not be happy either way.

"You can have some fun by yourself." The man winked at Margaret, who understood what he meant and nodded.

They started playing cards.

Margaret stood behind Mr. Rose, her eyes moved on the men's clothing, she carefully studied every fold on it, and at the same time began to imagine some improved clothing in her heart.

Thinking this way in her heart, her eyes drifted over the people in front of her, but in the end, it was Mr. Rose who scrutinized the most.

This gentleman is a very good clothes hanger. Compared with young people in their twenties, his physique is at the time when a man is the strongest and most visible, and this abrupt roughness is due to his softer eyebrows and mouth corners. Those smiles neutralized a lot, and he looked like an elegant and casual gentleman.

Marguerite didn't know much about cards, but she could see that Mr. Ross was a good player.

He won a few games at first, but then he started to lose again. However, no matter what the result was, his eyes always maintained a kind of laziness and easy-going, as if he didn't care about the money exported.

"I think we can play something big this time." Mr. Ross drew a card, he glanced at it and said with a smile.

The cigar-smoking man glanced at him, and Mr. Ross raised the corner of his mouth, and then pushed out the stacks of chips stacked in front of him with his fingers one by one.

These colorful chips are like a mighty army, standing in front of people aggressively, and then, with a slight push, they cover half of the table.

"Are you sure?" the cigar-smoking man asked.

"Please."

The balding middle-aged man smiled. He glanced at the man smoking a cigar, and then they all pushed out the chips in front of them.

"Crash-"

The chips on the table are colorful and mixed together, making it impossible to imagine how many francs can be replaced here.

Margaret's heart tightened. Judging from the eye contact between the two people just now, there must be something wrong with it.