the haunted hotel(闹鬼的旅馆)-第31节
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a queer way of bringing the meeting about；' he said。 'We have all
arranged to meet at the Palace Hotel。 How is it that your name is not on
the Visitors' List？ Destiny ought to have brought you to the Palace Hotel
too。'
She abruptly pulled down her veil。 'Destiny may do that yet！' she
said。 'The Palace Hotel？' she repeated； speaking once more to herself。 'The
old hell； transformed into the new purgatory。 The place itself！ Jesu Maria！
the place itself！' She paused and laid her hand on her companion's arm。
'Perhaps Miss Lockwood is not going there with the rest of you？' she burst
out with sudden eagerness。 'Are you positively sure she will be at the
hotel？'
'Positively！ Haven't I told you that Miss Lockwood travels with Lord
and Lady Montbarry？ and don't you know that she is a member of the
family？ You will have to move； Countess； to our hotel。'
She was perfectly impenetrable to the bantering tone in which he
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spoke。 'Yes；' she said faintly； 'I shall have to move to your hotel。' Her hand
was still on his armhe could feel her shivering from head to foot while
she spoke。 Heartily as he disliked and distrusted her； the common
instinct of humanity obliged him to ask if she felt cold。
'Yes；' she said。 'Cold and faint。'
'Cold and faint； Countess； on such a night as this？'
'The night has nothing to do with it； Mr。 Westwick。 How do you
suppose the criminal feels on the scaffold； while the hangman is putting
the rope around his neck？ Cold and faint； too； I should think。 Excuse my
grim fancy。 You see； Destiny has got the rope round my neck and I feel
it。'
She looked about her。 They were at that moment close to the famous
cafe known as 'Florian's。' 'Take me in there；' she said； 'I must have
something to revive me。 You had better not hesitate。 You are interested
in reviving me。 I have not said what I wanted to say to you yet。 It's
business； and it's connected with your theatre。'
Wondering inwardly what she could possibly want with his theatre；
Francis reluctantly yielded to the necessities of the situation； and took her
into the cafe。 He found a quiet corner in which they could take their
places without attracting notice。 'What will you have？' he inquired
resignedly。 She gave her own orders to the waiter； without troubling him
to speak for her。
'Maraschino。 And a pot of tea。'
The waiter stared； Francis stared。 The tea was a novelty （in
connection with maraschino） to both of them。 Careless whether she
surprised them or not； she instructed the waiter； when her directions had
been complied with； to pour a large wine…glass…full of the liqueur into a
tumbler； and to fill it up from the teapot。 'I can't do it for myself；' she
remarked； 'my hand trembles so。' She drank the strange mixture eagerly；
hot as it was。 'Maraschino punch will you taste some of it？' she said。
'I inherit the discovery of this drink。 When your English Queen Caroline
was on the Continent； my mother was attached to her Court。 That much
injured Royal Person invented； in her happier hours； maraschino punch。
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Fondly attached to her gracious mistress； my mother shared her tastes。
And I； in my turn； learnt from my mother。 Now； Mr。 Westwick； suppose
I tell you what my business is。 You are manager of a theatre。 Do you
want a new play？'
'I always want a new playprovided it's a good one。'
'And you pay； if it's a good one？'
'I pay liberallyin my own interests。'
'If I write the play； will you read it？'
Francis hesitated。 'What has put writing a play into your head？' he
asked。
'Mere accident；' she answered。 'I had once occasion to tell my late
brother of a visit which I paid to Miss Lockwood； when I was last in
England。 He took no interest at what happened at the interview； but
something struck him in my way of relating it。 He said； 〃You describe
what passed between you and the lady with the point and contrast of good
stage dialogue。 You have the dramatic instinct try if you can write a
play。 You might make money。〃 That put it into my head。'
Those last words seemed to startle Francis。 'Surely you don't want
money！' he exclaimed。
'I always want money。 My tastes are expensive。 I have nothing but
my poor little four hundred a yearand the wreck that is left of the other
money： about two hundred pounds in circular notes no more。'
Francis knew that she was referring to the ten thousand pounds paid by
the insurance offices。 'All those thousands gone already！' he exclaimed。
She blew a little puff of air over her fingers。 'Gone like that！' she
answered coolly。
'Baron Rivar？'
She looked at him with a flash of anger in her hard black eyes。
'My affairs are my own secret； Mr。 Westwick。 I have made you a
proposaland you have not answered me yet。 Don't say No； without
thinking first。 Remember what a life mine has been。 I have seen more of
the world than most people； playwrights included。 I have had strange
adventures； I have heard remarkable stories； I have observed； I have
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remembered。 Are there no materials； here in my head； for writing a play…
…if the opportunity is granted to me？' She waited a moment； and suddenly
repeated her strange question about Agnes。
'When is Miss Lockwood expected to be in Venice？'
'What has that to do with your new play； Countess？'
The Countess appeared to feel some difficulty in giving that question
its fit reply。 She mixed another tumbler full of maraschino punch； and
drank one good half of it before she spoke again。
'It has everything to do with my new play；' was all she said。 'Answer
me。' Francis answered her。
'Miss Lockwood may be here in a week。 Or； for all I know to the
contrary； sooner than that。'
'Very well。 If I am a living woman and a free woman in a week's
time or if I am in possession of my senses in a week's time （don't
interrupt me； I know what I am talking about）I shall have a sketch or
outline of my play ready； as a specimen of what I can do。 Once again；
will you read it？'
'I will certainly read it。 But； Countess； I don't understand'
She held up her hand for silence； and finished the second tumbler of
maraschino punch。
'I am a living enigmaand you want to know the right reading of me；'
she said。 'Here is the reading； as your English phrase goes； in a nutshell。
There is a foolish idea in the minds of many persons that the natives of the
warm climates are imaginative people。 There never was a greater mistake。
You will find no such unimaginative people anywhere as you find in Italy；
Spain； Greece； and the other Southern countries。 To anything fanciful； to
anything spiritual； their minds are deaf and blind by nature。 Now and then；
in the course of centuries； a great genius springs up among them； and he is
the exception which proves the rule。 Now see！ I； though I am no genius
I am； in my little way （as I suppose）； an exception too。 To my sorrow； I
have some of that imagination which is so common among the English
and the Germans so rare among the Italians； the Spaniards； and the rest
of them！ And what is the result？ I think it has become a disease in me。 I
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