Night of the Foxtxt,chm,pdf,epub,mobi下载
定价: 21.00 ISBN: 9780330299893
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The notice board said Parish Church of~St. Brelade<br >and the place was crammed with headstones \"~Xnd tombs,<br >and here and there a granite cross reared up. There was a<br >winged angel on the far side, I noticed that, and then thun-<br >der rumbled on the horizon and rain swept in across the<br >bay.<br > The porter at the hotel had given me an umbrella and I<br >pu...
The notice board said Parish Church of~St. Brelade<br >and the place was crammed with headstones \"~Xnd tombs,<br >and here and there a granite cross reared up. There was a<br >winged angel on the far side, I noticed that, and then thun-<br >der rumbled on the horizon and rain swept in across the<br >bay.<br > The porter at the hotel had given me an umbrella and I<br >put it up and ventured in. On Sunday in Boston I d never<br >heard of the British Channel Islands off the coast of France<br >or the Island of Jersey. Now it was Thursday and here I was<br >having traveled halfway round the world to seek the final<br >answer to something that had taken three years out of my<br >life.<br > The church was very old and built of granite. I moved<br >toward it through the tombstones, pausing to look out over<br >the bay. The tide was out and there was a fine sweep of<br >golden sands extending to a concrete seawall and I could<br >see my hotel.<br > I heard voices and, turning, saw two men in cloth caps,<br >sacks over their shoulders, crouching under a cypress tree<br >by the far wall of the graveyard. They stood up and moved<br >away, laughing together as ff at some joke, and I noticed<br >they were carrying spades. They disappeared around the<br >back of the church and I crossed to the wall.<br > There was a freshly dug grave, covered with a tarpaulin<br >although the tree gave it some protection from the rain. I<br >don t think I~e ever felt so excited. It was as if it had been<br >waiting for me and I turned and moved through the head-<br >stones to the entrance of the church, opened the door and<br >went inside.<br > I d expected a place of darkness and gloom, but the lights<br >were on and it was really very beautiful, the vaulted ceiling<br > unusual in that it was constructed of granite, no evidence<br > of wooden beams there at all. I walked toward the altar and<br >12<br >stood for a moment, looking around me, aware of the quiet.<br >There was the click of a door opening and closing. A man<br >approached.<br > He had white hair and eyes of the palest blue. He wore a<br >black cassock and carried a raincoat over one arm. His<br >voice was dry and very old and there was a hint of Irish to<br >it when he spoke. \"Can I help you?\"<br > \"Are you the rector?\"<br > \"Oh, no.\" He smiled good-humoredly. ~rhey put me out<br >to grass a long time ago. My name is Cullen. Canon Donald<br >Cullen. You re an American?\"<br > ~I~at s right.\" I shook hands. He had a surprisingly firm<br >grip. \"Alan Stacey.\"<br > \"Your first visit to Jersey?\"<br > \"Yes,\" I said. \"Until a few days ago I never knew the place<br >existed. Like most Americans, I d only heard of New Jer-<br >sey~\"<br > He smiled. We moved toward the door and he carriedon,<br >\"You~e chosen a bad time of the year for your first visit.<br >Jersey can be one of the most desirable places on earth,<br >but not usually during March.\"<br > \"I didn t have much choice,\" I said. \"You re burying<br >someone here today. Harry Martineau,\"<br > He had started to pull on his raincoat and paused in<br >surprise. \"rhat s right. I m performing the ceremony my-<br >serf, as a matter of fact. Two o clock this afternoon. Are you<br >a relativeT <br > \"Not exactly, although I sometimes feel as if I am. I m an<br >assistant professor of philosophy at Harvard. I ve been<br >working on a biography of Martineau for the past three<br >years.\"<br > \"I see.\" He opened the door and we went out into the<br >porch.<br > \"Do you know much about him?\" I asked.<br ><br >
正在看
世界变得更立体。
同时细微处又有真知灼见
生动有趣的诠释了