Marc Chagall Painting
But his aunt had been very much annoyed - in fact, she had made him turn the pictures all back again; and as long as he stayed there he just had to put up with what he called "those half-human monsters." Mrs. Bunting, sitting there, thinking the matter of Mr. Sleuth's odd behaviour over, was glad to recall that funny incident of her long-gone youth. It seemed to prove that her new lodger was not so strange as he appeared to be. Still, when Bunting came in, she did not tell him the queer thing which had happened. She told herself that she would be quite able to manage the taking down of the pictures in the drawing-room herself.
But before getting ready their own supper, Mr. Sleuth's landlady went upstairs to dear away, and when on the staircase she heard the sound of - was it talking, in the drawing-room? Startled, she waited a moment on the landing outside the drawing-room door, then she realised that it was only the lodger reading aloud to himself. There was something very awful in the words which rose and fell on her listening ears:
Showing posts with label Marc Chagall Painting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marc Chagall Painting. Show all posts
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
Darzac shrank back.
"What does that mean?"
Evidently he understood, what I also understood, that my friend suspected him of the abominable attempt on the life of Mademoiselle Stangerson. The impression of the blood-stained hand on the walls of The Yellow Room was in his mind. I looked at the man closely. His haughty face with its expression ordinarily so straightforward was at this moment strangely troubled. He held out his right hand and, referring to me, said:
"As you are a friend of Monsieur Sainclair who has rendered me invaluable services in a just cause, monsieur, I see no reason for refusing you my hand -"
Rouletabille did not take the extended hand. Lying with the utmost audacity, he said:
"Monsieur, I have lived several years in Russia, where I have acquired the habit of never taking any but an ungloved hand."
I thought that the Sorbonne professor would express his anger openly, but, on the contrary, by a visibly violent effort, he calmed himself, took off his gloves, and showed his hands; they were unmarked by any cicatrix.
Darzac shrank back.
"What does that mean?"
Evidently he understood, what I also understood, that my friend suspected him of the abominable attempt on the life of Mademoiselle Stangerson. The impression of the blood-stained hand on the walls of The Yellow Room was in his mind. I looked at the man closely. His haughty face with its expression ordinarily so straightforward was at this moment strangely troubled. He held out his right hand and, referring to me, said:
"As you are a friend of Monsieur Sainclair who has rendered me invaluable services in a just cause, monsieur, I see no reason for refusing you my hand -"
Rouletabille did not take the extended hand. Lying with the utmost audacity, he said:
"Monsieur, I have lived several years in Russia, where I have acquired the habit of never taking any but an ungloved hand."
I thought that the Sorbonne professor would express his anger openly, but, on the contrary, by a visibly violent effort, he calmed himself, took off his gloves, and showed his hands; they were unmarked by any cicatrix.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
You can't know many doctors," said Dr. Quimper. "Leeches they used to be called, and leeches they often are! At any rate, we do get paid nowadays, the State sees to that. No sending in of bills that you know won't ever be met. Trouble is that all one's patients are determined to get everything they can ‘out of the Government,' and as a result, if little Jenny coughs twice in the night, or little Tommy eats a couple of green apples, out the poor doctor has to come in the middle of the night. Oh, well! Glorious cake, Emma. What a cook you are!"
"Not mine. Miss Eyelesbarrow’s."
"You make 'em just as good," said Quimper loyally.
Marc Chagall Painting
Will you come and see father?"
She rose and the doctor followed her. Miss Marple watched them leave the room.
Miss Crackenthorpe is a very devoted daughter, I see, she said.
"Can't imagine how she sticks the old man, myself," said the outspoken Cedric.
"She has a very comfortable home here, and father is very much attached to her," said Harold quickly.
"Em's all right," said Cedric. "Born to be an old maid."
There was a faint twinkle in Miss Marple's eye as she said:
Marc Chagall Painting
You can't know many doctors," said Dr. Quimper. "Leeches they used to be called, and leeches they often are! At any rate, we do get paid nowadays, the State sees to that. No sending in of bills that you know won't ever be met. Trouble is that all one's patients are determined to get everything they can ‘out of the Government,' and as a result, if little Jenny coughs twice in the night, or little Tommy eats a couple of green apples, out the poor doctor has to come in the middle of the night. Oh, well! Glorious cake, Emma. What a cook you are!"
"Not mine. Miss Eyelesbarrow’s."
"You make 'em just as good," said Quimper loyally.
Marc Chagall Painting
Will you come and see father?"
She rose and the doctor followed her. Miss Marple watched them leave the room.
Miss Crackenthorpe is a very devoted daughter, I see, she said.
"Can't imagine how she sticks the old man, myself," said the outspoken Cedric.
"She has a very comfortable home here, and father is very much attached to her," said Harold quickly.
"Em's all right," said Cedric. "Born to be an old maid."
There was a faint twinkle in Miss Marple's eye as she said:
Marc Chagall Painting
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
"The person you are to escort is Mary Drower-and I must request you notto leave her." "But，Poirot，why?" "Because，my dear friend，her name begins with a D.We must take nochances." I saw the justice of his remark.At first it seemed far-fetched.But thenI realized that if A B C had a fanatical hatred of Poirot，he might verywell be keeping himself informed of Poirot's movements.And in that case theelimination of Mary Drower might strike him as a very pat fourth stroke. I promised to be faithful to my trust. I went out leaving Poirot sitting in a chair near the window.
Marc Chagall Painting
Below his breath Mr Leadbetter uttered a grunt of impatience as hisnext-door neighbour got up and stumbled clumsily past him，dropping his hatover the seat in front，and leaning over to retrieve it. All this at the culminating moment of Not a Sparrow，that all-star，thrilling drama of pathos and beauty that Mr Leadbetter had been lookingforward to seeing for a whole week. The golden-haired heroine，played by Katherine Royal (in Mr Leadbetter'sopinion the leading film actress in the world)，was just giving vent to ahoarse cry of indignation
Marc Chagall Painting
"The person you are to escort is Mary Drower-and I must request you notto leave her." "But，Poirot，why?" "Because，my dear friend，her name begins with a D.We must take nochances." I saw the justice of his remark.At first it seemed far-fetched.But thenI realized that if A B C had a fanatical hatred of Poirot，he might verywell be keeping himself informed of Poirot's movements.And in that case theelimination of Mary Drower might strike him as a very pat fourth stroke. I promised to be faithful to my trust. I went out leaving Poirot sitting in a chair near the window.
Marc Chagall Painting
Below his breath Mr Leadbetter uttered a grunt of impatience as hisnext-door neighbour got up and stumbled clumsily past him，dropping his hatover the seat in front，and leaning over to retrieve it. All this at the culminating moment of Not a Sparrow，that all-star，thrilling drama of pathos and beauty that Mr Leadbetter had been lookingforward to seeing for a whole week. The golden-haired heroine，played by Katherine Royal (in Mr Leadbetter'sopinion the leading film actress in the world)，was just giving vent to ahoarse cry of indignation
Marc Chagall Painting
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
We were all silent for a minute or two，taking in the situation.Thecrowds on the race-course-the passionate，sport-loving English public-theendless complications. Poirot murmured: "C'est ingenieux.Tout de meme c'est bien imagine，ca." "It's my belief，"said Clarke，"that the murder will take place on therace-course-perhaps actually while the Leger is being run." For the moment his sporting instincts took a momentary pleasure in thethought...... Inspector Crome rose，taking the letter with him. "The St Leger is a complication，"he allowed."It's unfortunate." He went out.We heard a murmur of voices in the hallway.A minute laterThora Grey entered.
Marc Chagall Painting
She said anxiously: "The inspector told me there is another letter. Where this time?" It was raining outside.Thoran Grey was wearing a black coat and skirtand furs.A little black hat just perched itself on the side of her goldenhead. It was to Franklin Clarke that she spoke and she came right up to himand，with a hand on his arm，waited for his answer. "Doncaster-and on the day of the St Leger." We settled down to a discussion.It went without saying that we allintended to be present，but the race-meeting undoubtedly complicated theplans we had made tentatively beforehand.
Marc Chagall Painting
We were all silent for a minute or two，taking in the situation.Thecrowds on the race-course-the passionate，sport-loving English public-theendless complications. Poirot murmured: "C'est ingenieux.Tout de meme c'est bien imagine，ca." "It's my belief，"said Clarke，"that the murder will take place on therace-course-perhaps actually while the Leger is being run." For the moment his sporting instincts took a momentary pleasure in thethought...... Inspector Crome rose，taking the letter with him. "The St Leger is a complication，"he allowed."It's unfortunate." He went out.We heard a murmur of voices in the hallway.A minute laterThora Grey entered.
Marc Chagall Painting
She said anxiously: "The inspector told me there is another letter. Where this time?" It was raining outside.Thoran Grey was wearing a black coat and skirtand furs.A little black hat just perched itself on the side of her goldenhead. It was to Franklin Clarke that she spoke and she came right up to himand，with a hand on his arm，waited for his answer. "Doncaster-and on the day of the St Leger." We settled down to a discussion.It went without saying that we allintended to be present，but the race-meeting undoubtedly complicated theplans we had made tentatively beforehand.
Marc Chagall Painting
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
"Make yourself perfectly at home," said the green girl, "and if you wish for anything ring the bell. Oz will send for you tomorrow morning."
She left Dorothy alone and went back to the others. These she also led to rooms, and each one of them found himself lodged in a very pleasant part of the Palace. Of course this politeness was wasted on the Scarecrow; for
Marc Chagall Painting
when he found himself alone in his room he stood stupidly in one spot, just within the doorway, to wait till morning. It would not rest him to lie down, and he could not close his eyes; so he remained all night staring at a little spider which was weaving its web in a corner of the room, just as if it were not one of the most wonderful rooms in the world. The Tin Woodman lay down on his bed from force of habit, for he remembered when he was made of flesh; but not being able to sleep
Marc Chagall Painting
"Make yourself perfectly at home," said the green girl, "and if you wish for anything ring the bell. Oz will send for you tomorrow morning."
She left Dorothy alone and went back to the others. These she also led to rooms, and each one of them found himself lodged in a very pleasant part of the Palace. Of course this politeness was wasted on the Scarecrow; for
Marc Chagall Painting
when he found himself alone in his room he stood stupidly in one spot, just within the doorway, to wait till morning. It would not rest him to lie down, and he could not close his eyes; so he remained all night staring at a little spider which was weaving its web in a corner of the room, just as if it were not one of the most wonderful rooms in the world. The Tin Woodman lay down on his bed from force of habit, for he remembered when he was made of flesh; but not being able to sleep
Marc Chagall Painting
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
and occasionally stroking the lad's cheek or patting his head, in such a gently caressing way that in a little while all the fear and repulsion inspired by the archangel were changed to reverence and affection for the man.
This happy state of things continued while the two ate the supper; then, after a prayer before the shrine, the hermit put the boy to bed, in a small adjoining room, tucking him in as snugly and lovingly as a mother might; and so
Marc Chagall Painting
with a parting caress, left him and sat down by the fire, and began to poke the brands about in an absent and aimless way. Presently he paused; then tapped his forehead several times with his fingers, as if trying to recall some thought which had escaped from his mind. Apparently he was unsuccessful. Now he started quickly up, and entered his guest's room, and said:
"Thou art king?"
"Yes," was the response, drowsily uttered.
"What king?"
"Of England."
"Of England. Then Henry is gone!"
Marc Chagall Painting
and occasionally stroking the lad's cheek or patting his head, in such a gently caressing way that in a little while all the fear and repulsion inspired by the archangel were changed to reverence and affection for the man.
This happy state of things continued while the two ate the supper; then, after a prayer before the shrine, the hermit put the boy to bed, in a small adjoining room, tucking him in as snugly and lovingly as a mother might; and so
Marc Chagall Painting
with a parting caress, left him and sat down by the fire, and began to poke the brands about in an absent and aimless way. Presently he paused; then tapped his forehead several times with his fingers, as if trying to recall some thought which had escaped from his mind. Apparently he was unsuccessful. Now he started quickly up, and entered his guest's room, and said:
"Thou art king?"
"Yes," was the response, drowsily uttered.
"What king?"
"Of England."
"Of England. Then Henry is gone!"
Marc Chagall Painting
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
Opening wide the door, "Daisy!" he called out, in a wailing voice, "Daisy, my dear! where are you?"
"Here I am, father. What is it?"
"She's all right " Bunting turned a grey face to his wife. "She's all right Ellen."
He waited a moment, leaning against the wall of the passage. "It did give me a turn," he said, and then, warningly, "Don't frighten the girl, Ellen
Marc Chagall Painting
Daisy was standing before the fire in their sitting room, admiring herself in the glass.
"Oh, father," she exclaimed, without turning round, "I've seen the lodger! He's quite a nice gentleman, though, to be sure, he does look a cure. He rang his bell, but I didn't like to go up; and so he came down to ask Ellen for something. We had quite a nice little chat - that we had.
Marc Chagall Painting
Opening wide the door, "Daisy!" he called out, in a wailing voice, "Daisy, my dear! where are you?"
"Here I am, father. What is it?"
"She's all right " Bunting turned a grey face to his wife. "She's all right Ellen."
He waited a moment, leaning against the wall of the passage. "It did give me a turn," he said, and then, warningly, "Don't frighten the girl, Ellen
Marc Chagall Painting
Daisy was standing before the fire in their sitting room, admiring herself in the glass.
"Oh, father," she exclaimed, without turning round, "I've seen the lodger! He's quite a nice gentleman, though, to be sure, he does look a cure. He rang his bell, but I didn't like to go up; and so he came down to ask Ellen for something. We had quite a nice little chat - that we had.
Marc Chagall Painting
Monday, October 15, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
"Oh, no, sir, I wouldn't think of charging you anything for that. We don't use our stove very much, you know, sir. I'm never in the kitchen a minute longer than I can help this cold weather."
Mrs. Bunting was beginning to feel better. When she was actually in Mr. Sleuth's presence her morbid fears would be lulled, perhaps because his manner almost invariably was gentle and very quiet. But still there came over her an eerie feeling, as, with him preceding her, they made a slow progress to the ground floor.
Marc Chagall Painting
Once there, the lodger courteously bade his landlady good-night, and proceeded upstairs to his own apartments.
Mrs. Bunting returned to the kitchen. Again she lighted the stove; but she felt unnerved, afraid of she knew not what. As she was cooking the cheese, she tried to concentrate her mind on what she was doing, and on the whole she succeeded. But another part of her mind seemed to be working independently, asking her insistent questions.
Marc Chagall Painting
"Oh, no, sir, I wouldn't think of charging you anything for that. We don't use our stove very much, you know, sir. I'm never in the kitchen a minute longer than I can help this cold weather."
Mrs. Bunting was beginning to feel better. When she was actually in Mr. Sleuth's presence her morbid fears would be lulled, perhaps because his manner almost invariably was gentle and very quiet. But still there came over her an eerie feeling, as, with him preceding her, they made a slow progress to the ground floor.
Marc Chagall Painting
Once there, the lodger courteously bade his landlady good-night, and proceeded upstairs to his own apartments.
Mrs. Bunting returned to the kitchen. Again she lighted the stove; but she felt unnerved, afraid of she knew not what. As she was cooking the cheese, she tried to concentrate her mind on what she was doing, and on the whole she succeeded. But another part of her mind seemed to be working independently, asking her insistent questions.
Marc Chagall Painting
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
It had fallen out in this way. A lady had just engaged him as butler, and he had been shown, by the man whose place he was to take, into the dining-room. There, to use his own expression, he had discovered Ellen Green, carefully pouring out the glass of port wine which her then mistress always drank at 11.30 every morning.
Marc Chagall Painting
And as he, the new butler, had seen her engaged in this task, as he had watched her carefully stopper the decanter and put it back into the old wine-cooler, he had said to himself, "That is the woman for me!"
But now her stillness, her - her dumbness, had got on the unfortunate man's nerves. He no longer felt like going into the various little shops
Marc Chagall Painting
It had fallen out in this way. A lady had just engaged him as butler, and he had been shown, by the man whose place he was to take, into the dining-room. There, to use his own expression, he had discovered Ellen Green, carefully pouring out the glass of port wine which her then mistress always drank at 11.30 every morning.
Marc Chagall Painting
And as he, the new butler, had seen her engaged in this task, as he had watched her carefully stopper the decanter and put it back into the old wine-cooler, he had said to himself, "That is the woman for me!"
But now her stillness, her - her dumbness, had got on the unfortunate man's nerves. He no longer felt like going into the various little shops
Marc Chagall Painting
Friday, October 12, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
evidently, not had a key to the vestibule door. But why should I be thinking of my previous night's attempt with the ladder? ?Because of the open window ?left open, perhaps, by the negligence of a servant? I reclosed it, smiling at the ease with which I built a drama on the mere suggestion of an open window.
Marc Chagall Painting
"Again the cry of the Bete du Bon Dieu! ?and then silence. The rain ceased to beat on the window. All in the chateau slept. I walked with infinite precaution on the carpet of the gallery. On reaching the corner of the 'right' gallery, I peered round it cautiously. There was another lamp there with a reflector which quite lit up the several objects in it, ?
Marc Chagall Painting
evidently, not had a key to the vestibule door. But why should I be thinking of my previous night's attempt with the ladder? ?Because of the open window ?left open, perhaps, by the negligence of a servant? I reclosed it, smiling at the ease with which I built a drama on the mere suggestion of an open window.
Marc Chagall Painting
"Again the cry of the Bete du Bon Dieu! ?and then silence. The rain ceased to beat on the window. All in the chateau slept. I walked with infinite precaution on the carpet of the gallery. On reaching the corner of the 'right' gallery, I peered round it cautiously. There was another lamp there with a reflector which quite lit up the several objects in it, ?
Marc Chagall Painting
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
When the Fisherman pulled the net out of the sea, he cried out joyfully:
"Blessed Providence! Once more I'll have a fine meal of fish!"
"Thank Heaven, I'm not a fish!" said Pinocchio to himself, trying with these words to find a little courage.
The Fisherman took the net and the fish to the cave, a dark, gloomy, smoky place. In the middle of it, a pan full of oil sizzled over a smoky fire, sending out a repelling odor of tallow that took away one's breath.
Marc Chagall Painting
Now, let's see what kind of fish we have caught today," said the Green Fisherman. He put a hand as big as a spade into the net and pulled out a handful of mullets.
"Fine mullets, these!" he said, after looking at them and smelling them with pleasure. After that, he threw them into a large, empty tub.
Many times he repeated this performance. As he pulled each fish out of the net, his mouth watered with the thought of the good dinner coming, and he said:
"Fine fish, these bass!"
Marc Chagall Painting
When the Fisherman pulled the net out of the sea, he cried out joyfully:
"Blessed Providence! Once more I'll have a fine meal of fish!"
"Thank Heaven, I'm not a fish!" said Pinocchio to himself, trying with these words to find a little courage.
The Fisherman took the net and the fish to the cave, a dark, gloomy, smoky place. In the middle of it, a pan full of oil sizzled over a smoky fire, sending out a repelling odor of tallow that took away one's breath.
Marc Chagall Painting
Now, let's see what kind of fish we have caught today," said the Green Fisherman. He put a hand as big as a spade into the net and pulled out a handful of mullets.
"Fine mullets, these!" he said, after looking at them and smelling them with pleasure. After that, he threw them into a large, empty tub.
Many times he repeated this performance. As he pulled each fish out of the net, his mouth watered with the thought of the good dinner coming, and he said:
"Fine fish, these bass!"
Marc Chagall Painting
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
"The presbytery has lost nothing of its charm, nor the garden its brightness."
The words had no sooner left the lips of Rouletabille than I saw Robert Darzac quail. Pale as he was, he became paler. His eyes were fixed on the young man in terror, and he immediately descended from the vehicle in an inexpressible state of agitation.
Marc Chagall Painting
Come! - come in!" he stammered.
Then, suddenly, and with a sort of fury, he repeated:
"Let us go, monsieur."
He turned up by the road he had come from the chateau, Rouletabille still retaining his hold on the horse's bridle. I addressed a few words to Monsieur Darzac, but he made no answer. My looks questioned Rouletabille, but his gaze was elsewhere.
Marc Chagall Painting
"The presbytery has lost nothing of its charm, nor the garden its brightness."
The words had no sooner left the lips of Rouletabille than I saw Robert Darzac quail. Pale as he was, he became paler. His eyes were fixed on the young man in terror, and he immediately descended from the vehicle in an inexpressible state of agitation.
Marc Chagall Painting
Come! - come in!" he stammered.
Then, suddenly, and with a sort of fury, he repeated:
"Let us go, monsieur."
He turned up by the road he had come from the chateau, Rouletabille still retaining his hold on the horse's bridle. I addressed a few words to Monsieur Darzac, but he made no answer. My looks questioned Rouletabille, but his gaze was elsewhere.
Marc Chagall Painting
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
“这是什么文”蒋易指着上面的象形文字对我和身后的学者问道
大家摇摇头，对这个陌生的，不知道什么年代的文字而感到困惑
“这是画”我出现的惊人之语
“画中讲的好像是一位贵族妇女……”大家向我靠紧
“第一副画讲的是妇女诞生在天地之间，随后大家举行了盛大的欢迎仪式，妇女穿上了盔甲，战胜了恶魔，成为了他们的王，至于这两幅嘛，我看不大懂”我指着最后3幅画说道
Marc Chagall Painting
“看来古墓里睡得是一位贵族妇女，地位还很高”
我点点头，同意这位学者的结论
“你们看，这些符号有点像埃及金字塔里的……”戴眼镜的学者兴奋的大叫，我们立刻涌到他身边
“*—%￥#•#￥%……—*（”
“什么意思”我问向把它读出声的学者，他不好意思地推了推眼镜
“这些恰巧是金字塔里还没有被破解出来的文字”
昏，大家都作晕装
“但是……”为了挽回颜面，学者叫道
Marc Chagall Painting
“这是什么文”蒋易指着上面的象形文字对我和身后的学者问道
大家摇摇头，对这个陌生的，不知道什么年代的文字而感到困惑
“这是画”我出现的惊人之语
“画中讲的好像是一位贵族妇女……”大家向我靠紧
“第一副画讲的是妇女诞生在天地之间，随后大家举行了盛大的欢迎仪式，妇女穿上了盔甲，战胜了恶魔，成为了他们的王，至于这两幅嘛，我看不大懂”我指着最后3幅画说道
Marc Chagall Painting
“看来古墓里睡得是一位贵族妇女，地位还很高”
我点点头，同意这位学者的结论
“你们看，这些符号有点像埃及金字塔里的……”戴眼镜的学者兴奋的大叫，我们立刻涌到他身边
“*—%￥#•#￥%……—*（”
“什么意思”我问向把它读出声的学者，他不好意思地推了推眼镜
“这些恰巧是金字塔里还没有被破解出来的文字”
昏，大家都作晕装
“但是……”为了挽回颜面，学者叫道
Marc Chagall Painting
Monday, October 8, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
胤祯当即垮下脸道：“这怎么行，大伙儿都等在那里呢！”
胤禟这回倒没有发作，只盯着她道：“若真的不舒服，可要请太医看看，我瞧你面色实在真的不好。”
沂歆还想说什么，却被胤禟眼神阻止了，便鄢鄢地道：“好可惜，一年就这一次，本还想痛痛快快的玩耍子回。”
婷媛听到了，便道：“傻子，今年不成，还有明年啊！”
尘芳手一顿，突然开口唤住正待离去的四人道：“你们先去，我梳洗一下，随后便到。”
Marc Chagall Painting
胤祯和沂歆瞬即喜笑颜开，胤禟微眯了下眼，又道：“把你表妹也叫上吧，我记得，你说过你们是同一天生日。”
“不用了，她病了，不能见客。”尘芳一口回绝，随即又道：“我代小敏谢过九阿哥的美意。”
胤禟心中的疑虑更深，回到撷芳殿，坐在席间禁声不语。待尘芳欠身进门时，随着众人目光看去，不觉心中一窒。素日里她不喜奢华，皆是素衣淡容。今天却浓妆艳抹了番，烟眉秋目，凝脂猩唇，一扫适才的憔悴。一身玫瑰色银鹊穿花旗袍，外边搭了件水红色菱缎背心，两只金蝶耳坠挂在脸颊边灿烂耀目，唯有簪在髻边的白色茉莉，星星点点的透露出那一份清雅。此刻的她明丽动人，艳惊四座。
Marc Chagall Painting
胤祯当即垮下脸道：“这怎么行，大伙儿都等在那里呢！”
胤禟这回倒没有发作，只盯着她道：“若真的不舒服，可要请太医看看，我瞧你面色实在真的不好。”
沂歆还想说什么，却被胤禟眼神阻止了，便鄢鄢地道：“好可惜，一年就这一次，本还想痛痛快快的玩耍子回。”
婷媛听到了，便道：“傻子，今年不成，还有明年啊！”
尘芳手一顿，突然开口唤住正待离去的四人道：“你们先去，我梳洗一下，随后便到。”
Marc Chagall Painting
胤祯和沂歆瞬即喜笑颜开，胤禟微眯了下眼，又道：“把你表妹也叫上吧，我记得，你说过你们是同一天生日。”
“不用了，她病了，不能见客。”尘芳一口回绝，随即又道：“我代小敏谢过九阿哥的美意。”
胤禟心中的疑虑更深，回到撷芳殿，坐在席间禁声不语。待尘芳欠身进门时，随着众人目光看去，不觉心中一窒。素日里她不喜奢华，皆是素衣淡容。今天却浓妆艳抹了番，烟眉秋目，凝脂猩唇，一扫适才的憔悴。一身玫瑰色银鹊穿花旗袍，外边搭了件水红色菱缎背心，两只金蝶耳坠挂在脸颊边灿烂耀目，唯有簪在髻边的白色茉莉，星星点点的透露出那一份清雅。此刻的她明丽动人，艳惊四座。
Marc Chagall Painting
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
这一次小娃儿被吓得退开了几步，站得远远地看着龙飞玉。见龙飞玉真的要起身，拎着小木剑，慌慌张张地跑出去，边跑边叫：“猫咪！猫咪！坏蛋醒了！坏蛋醒了！”
龙飞玉心中纳闷，自己什么时候成了坏蛋，更纳闷的是，虽然头不昏了，身子却还是软绵绵的，无力起身，便索性半靠在床上，打量着这间关押“坏蛋”的“牢房”。
这显然是间客房，陈设简单大方，又不失舒适，可惜龙飞玉此时却没有那样的闲情逸致，只想知道是什么人、为什么暗算他。
Marc Chagall Painting
门外又响起了刚才那个有些不稳的脚步声，和着另一个轻快的脚步声。
“猫咪、猫咪快点，坏蛋就要逃跑了！”小娃儿因为说得急，有些气喘。
一个女子咯咯娇笑，“不怕，有阿璧大将军守着，什么样的坏蛋都跑不了。”
娇笑刚停，声音的主人便出现在龙飞玉眼前。肌肤如雪，眉目如画，菱形的小嘴微微上翘，石青缎子袄儿，鹅黄绸裙子，头上插了支金累丝钗，怀里还抱着一只肥肥的灰猫。这模样也有些眼熟。
Marc Chagall Painting
这一次小娃儿被吓得退开了几步，站得远远地看着龙飞玉。见龙飞玉真的要起身，拎着小木剑，慌慌张张地跑出去，边跑边叫：“猫咪！猫咪！坏蛋醒了！坏蛋醒了！”
龙飞玉心中纳闷，自己什么时候成了坏蛋，更纳闷的是，虽然头不昏了，身子却还是软绵绵的，无力起身，便索性半靠在床上，打量着这间关押“坏蛋”的“牢房”。
这显然是间客房，陈设简单大方，又不失舒适，可惜龙飞玉此时却没有那样的闲情逸致，只想知道是什么人、为什么暗算他。
Marc Chagall Painting
门外又响起了刚才那个有些不稳的脚步声，和着另一个轻快的脚步声。
“猫咪、猫咪快点，坏蛋就要逃跑了！”小娃儿因为说得急，有些气喘。
一个女子咯咯娇笑，“不怕，有阿璧大将军守着，什么样的坏蛋都跑不了。”
娇笑刚停，声音的主人便出现在龙飞玉眼前。肌肤如雪，眉目如画，菱形的小嘴微微上翘，石青缎子袄儿，鹅黄绸裙子，头上插了支金累丝钗，怀里还抱着一只肥肥的灰猫。这模样也有些眼熟。
Marc Chagall Painting
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
最重要的是因为靖南侯府的家规：世子未娶正妻之前不得纳妾，所以不管是御史大人的义妹还是右相大人的千金，此时都只能被称为姑娘，而这些个姑娘是没有资格给世子爷生下子嗣的，为了消除避子汤的药效，她可是费了不少劲儿。
她明白，翠浓担心的是，如果此时让他们知道自己怀了孕，只怕这孩子就保不住了。
这一点她倒是不担心，她只是担心会被迫因此与龙飞玉纠缠不清。
Marc Chagall Painting
照理这武官三品以上是三日一朝，但皇上登基不过三年，勤于政务，要求武官三品以上与文官一样每日上朝。
虽然身体因为宿醉还有些不适，龙飞玉还是没敢耽搁，这负责点班的监察御史可是不讲情面的。
一入殿内，果然就看到那个铁面御史正在点查人数。见他来了，微微一笑，“下官见过大将军。”
“呵呵，罗大人不必多礼。”他也是满面笑容，毕竟这个男人勉强算得上是他的大舅子。
这位年轻的御史大人与他的妹子实在是截然相反的两种人。御史大人姓罗名杰字英仁，听说年幼时家境贫寒，甚至一度卖身到妓院做小厮，后来因缘巧合，被人收养，十岁时才有机会念书习字。而龙飞玉十岁时已经是京城里有名的文武全才。
Marc Chagall Painting
最重要的是因为靖南侯府的家规：世子未娶正妻之前不得纳妾，所以不管是御史大人的义妹还是右相大人的千金，此时都只能被称为姑娘，而这些个姑娘是没有资格给世子爷生下子嗣的，为了消除避子汤的药效，她可是费了不少劲儿。
她明白，翠浓担心的是，如果此时让他们知道自己怀了孕，只怕这孩子就保不住了。
这一点她倒是不担心，她只是担心会被迫因此与龙飞玉纠缠不清。
Marc Chagall Painting
照理这武官三品以上是三日一朝，但皇上登基不过三年，勤于政务，要求武官三品以上与文官一样每日上朝。
虽然身体因为宿醉还有些不适，龙飞玉还是没敢耽搁，这负责点班的监察御史可是不讲情面的。
一入殿内，果然就看到那个铁面御史正在点查人数。见他来了，微微一笑，“下官见过大将军。”
“呵呵，罗大人不必多礼。”他也是满面笑容，毕竟这个男人勉强算得上是他的大舅子。
这位年轻的御史大人与他的妹子实在是截然相反的两种人。御史大人姓罗名杰字英仁，听说年幼时家境贫寒，甚至一度卖身到妓院做小厮，后来因缘巧合，被人收养，十岁时才有机会念书习字。而龙飞玉十岁时已经是京城里有名的文武全才。
Marc Chagall Painting
Friday, October 5, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
因一直在注意看皇帝，此刻他突然变脸，我这才发现那刺客竟直直向我刺来。我的娘啊，我得罪谁了我？神啊，救救我吧！
眼看本世纪最佳王妃兼皇帝的情妇就要香消玉殒，身后有人闪电般出手了。翊枫，你果然是我的好丈夫，我错了，不该背着你偷……呃，会皇帝的。
待我再度舒口气看清状况时，才发现救我的不是翊枫，而是一直乖乖服侍我的漂亮宫女姐姐。丫的一身好功夫还装纯洁小MM，只见她见招拆招，此刻和那刺客对剑也没落下风。
Marc Chagall Painting
此番我心里天马行空地转了数十个弯，而场上才不到十个武打动作，大约才不到20秒时间。翊枫突然冲到御驾前，怒道：“哪来的贼子？保护陛下要紧。”
那使剑的漂亮宫女姐姐和那刺客大战了许久也没见胜负，此刻众朝臣武官也知道高手过招，不能随意插手，所以均远远退到一边，口中却声声高叫：“保护皇上要紧。
Marc Chagall Painting
因一直在注意看皇帝，此刻他突然变脸，我这才发现那刺客竟直直向我刺来。我的娘啊，我得罪谁了我？神啊，救救我吧！
眼看本世纪最佳王妃兼皇帝的情妇就要香消玉殒，身后有人闪电般出手了。翊枫，你果然是我的好丈夫，我错了，不该背着你偷……呃，会皇帝的。
待我再度舒口气看清状况时，才发现救我的不是翊枫，而是一直乖乖服侍我的漂亮宫女姐姐。丫的一身好功夫还装纯洁小MM，只见她见招拆招，此刻和那刺客对剑也没落下风。
Marc Chagall Painting
此番我心里天马行空地转了数十个弯，而场上才不到十个武打动作，大约才不到20秒时间。翊枫突然冲到御驾前，怒道：“哪来的贼子？保护陛下要紧。”
那使剑的漂亮宫女姐姐和那刺客大战了许久也没见胜负，此刻众朝臣武官也知道高手过招，不能随意插手，所以均远远退到一边，口中却声声高叫：“保护皇上要紧。
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
大概是心里一直惦记着今天是三朝的日子，得去宫里谢恩，又或者是仍不习惯和别人共睡一床，所以我一大早就醒了。睁开眼看到身畔熟睡的翊枫，也不由得感慨万千：反正不嫁也嫁了，在古代谈离婚似乎也是不大可能的事，既已成事实，还是将就着努力演好王妃这一角色，至少也能让自己过得痛快些。以后还是尽量和他搞好关系，能做到相敬如宾就最好了。犯不着为了所谓的自由、爱情而作茧自缚，况且就算是在21世纪，要谈到百分百自由也不大可能，也是要或多或少受到外界的影响和束缚的。再说翊枫现在还小，说不定在我的影响下，那可恶的性子也许会有所收敛也说不定呢？
Marc Chagall Painting
想到这儿，突然觉得我所憧憬的美好未来未必没有希望，于是拿出一副真诚的笑容，轻推了一把身侧的翊枫：“王爷，醒醒，该起床了！”
他迷迷糊糊地睁开眼睛，看到我灿烂的笑颜，呆了几秒，终于清醒过来，也是露齿一笑：“还早，再躺躺吧！”说罢略一用力，仍将我搂了个满怀，不得不说，他温柔的时候，也是很可爱的。
我听话地窝在他怀里，静静地任他搂着。短暂的宁静，让我有一刹那的幸福感觉。他柔声道：“伶雪，你知道吗？你那双大眼睛，笑起来最好看，让人不自觉地想亲近……”我一乐：“你终于发现我的可取之处了？”他顿了顿：“可是凶起来却也蛮吓人的。昨日下午在厅里，那一瞪，唬得我舌头都打结了。”我只是闷笑不语。
Marc Chagall Painting
大概是心里一直惦记着今天是三朝的日子，得去宫里谢恩，又或者是仍不习惯和别人共睡一床，所以我一大早就醒了。睁开眼看到身畔熟睡的翊枫，也不由得感慨万千：反正不嫁也嫁了，在古代谈离婚似乎也是不大可能的事，既已成事实，还是将就着努力演好王妃这一角色，至少也能让自己过得痛快些。以后还是尽量和他搞好关系，能做到相敬如宾就最好了。犯不着为了所谓的自由、爱情而作茧自缚，况且就算是在21世纪，要谈到百分百自由也不大可能，也是要或多或少受到外界的影响和束缚的。再说翊枫现在还小，说不定在我的影响下，那可恶的性子也许会有所收敛也说不定呢？
Marc Chagall Painting
想到这儿，突然觉得我所憧憬的美好未来未必没有希望，于是拿出一副真诚的笑容，轻推了一把身侧的翊枫：“王爷，醒醒，该起床了！”
他迷迷糊糊地睁开眼睛，看到我灿烂的笑颜，呆了几秒，终于清醒过来，也是露齿一笑：“还早，再躺躺吧！”说罢略一用力，仍将我搂了个满怀，不得不说，他温柔的时候，也是很可爱的。
我听话地窝在他怀里，静静地任他搂着。短暂的宁静，让我有一刹那的幸福感觉。他柔声道：“伶雪，你知道吗？你那双大眼睛，笑起来最好看，让人不自觉地想亲近……”我一乐：“你终于发现我的可取之处了？”他顿了顿：“可是凶起来却也蛮吓人的。昨日下午在厅里，那一瞪，唬得我舌头都打结了。”我只是闷笑不语。
Marc Chagall Painting
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
这个老人看上去身体苍老精神矍铄，年界五十到六十之间，背有些驼，衣衫破旧却不凌乱，还算干净。
他背的乐器是一把吉他，躲在公园一株老柳树下避暑。
Marc Chagall Painting
式云注意他好一会儿了。上午的时候他在公园入口处弹唱，前面摆一纸壳牌，上面写着：“如果我的歌声让你快乐，请分回一点给我。”之前放一瓷缸，能看见里面半满的硬币和纸票。
尽管式云为他这种卖唱手段庸俗不屑，但他却为其别出心裁的语言所感动，觉得这个人确有意思，而且他的歌声的确让人心动，一丝沧桑像从千里之外与遥远的遥远的唐朝游来，抽丝一般绵绵不绝，最终在他略有沙哑的粗犷嗓音中释放，感动人心底感动之外的感动。
他就那么旁若无人的自唱自乐，当然也有听众，那些懂得欣赏的听众也有驻足聆听片刻的，听众和歌者心灵共鸣，式云在旁边合上眼睛，恍惚有时光倒流的错觉。
这会儿老人睡着了。式云便从旁边草地上蹲下来，安静地守侯他的醒来，他无论如何也要认识这个老人了，老人的歌声里有他想要的东西，具体什么，他也说不清，只约略清楚，老人的每一个音符都是一个故事。
风从被式云认为的皋兰山上吹下来，带着夏日的暖清花草香，身后的小树林的叶子哗啦啦的响成一片，像童年逝去的欢笑，伴着蝉声，从记忆深处飘来。
这个老人看上去身体苍老精神矍铄，年界五十到六十之间，背有些驼，衣衫破旧却不凌乱，还算干净。
他背的乐器是一把吉他，躲在公园一株老柳树下避暑。
Marc Chagall Painting
式云注意他好一会儿了。上午的时候他在公园入口处弹唱，前面摆一纸壳牌，上面写着：“如果我的歌声让你快乐，请分回一点给我。”之前放一瓷缸，能看见里面半满的硬币和纸票。
尽管式云为他这种卖唱手段庸俗不屑，但他却为其别出心裁的语言所感动，觉得这个人确有意思，而且他的歌声的确让人心动，一丝沧桑像从千里之外与遥远的遥远的唐朝游来，抽丝一般绵绵不绝，最终在他略有沙哑的粗犷嗓音中释放，感动人心底感动之外的感动。
他就那么旁若无人的自唱自乐，当然也有听众，那些懂得欣赏的听众也有驻足聆听片刻的，听众和歌者心灵共鸣，式云在旁边合上眼睛，恍惚有时光倒流的错觉。
这会儿老人睡着了。式云便从旁边草地上蹲下来，安静地守侯他的醒来，他无论如何也要认识这个老人了，老人的歌声里有他想要的东西，具体什么，他也说不清，只约略清楚，老人的每一个音符都是一个故事。
风从被式云认为的皋兰山上吹下来，带着夏日的暖清花草香，身后的小树林的叶子哗啦啦的响成一片，像童年逝去的欢笑，伴着蝉声，从记忆深处飘来。
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