The Francais Affair _ Josephine Tiei _ txt Novel Paradise

Nearly two miles off the Boulevard de Rabelot sits a house called Francais, with an incongruously modern telephone booth isolated on the sidewalk.


Nearly two miles off the Boulevard de Rabelot sits a house called Francais, with an incongruously modern telephone booth isolated on the sidewalk. In the final days of the Regency, the land formerly known as Francais was bought, and a plain white cottage was built in the middle, surrounded by tall, solid brick walls, with a large double iron gate as high as the front wall of the house facing the road. It bears no resemblance to a house built in the countryside: there is no farmhouse behind the house, no side door, and no passage to connect the surrounding fields. There were stables, and they were built according to the prevailing structure, at the back of the house, but on the inner side of the wall. It was so out of place with the rest of the countryside, so lonely and independent, like an outdated child's toy, abandoned by the roadside. Rob remembered that the house had belonged to an old man; but because the people of Francais always went shopping only in the village on the other side of Rabelot, called Hamglin, no one had ever seen them in Milford. It wasn't until Mary Ann Sharp and her mother inherited Frances from the old man that they began the habit of going shopping in the morning in Milford Town,Flush valve price, which became a regular sight there. Rob wondered how long they had lived there, three years? Or four years ? As for them, they haven't been accepted into Milford society. It's not surprising at all. Take old Mrs. Warren, who some twenty-five years ago bought the first of the elm-fringed cottages at the bottom of Market Street; she had moved to Milford from the sea, believing that the air would be good for her rheumatism. But even now, people still call her "the lady from the seaside". Besides,Stainless Steel Squatting Pan, perhaps the Sharp mother and daughter simply do not want to have that kind of dispensable social interaction with others. They are almost self-satisfied and enjoy themselves. Rob had seen the Sharps once or twice on the golf course, where they played (apparently as guests) with Dr. Porthwick. She can swing a long shot like a man and run her thin, brown wrists like a professional. And these are the impressions that Robert has of her. When he drove near the tall double iron gate, he found two other cars parked there. The one parked close by was easily identified as a Scotland Yard police car. When Rob got out of the car, he wondered if there was any country in the world where the police could have modest courtesy and unobtrusive gentleness? His eyes then fell on the car farther away. That's Hallam, the car of the local detective, who is not very hot on the golf course. There were three people in the police car: the driver, a middle-aged woman in the back seat, and a woman who was either a child or a young man. The driver looked at Rob in a gentle, absent way, but with the sweeping look of a policeman in his eyes. When he saw it clearly, he turned his eyes away; Rob could not see the face of the man in the back seat. The tall iron door was closed tightly, Urinal Manual Flush Valve ,Time Delay Faucet, and Rob never saw the iron door open. At this point, he tried to push it. The iron gate was originally designed with hollowed-out branches, but because of the Victorian fashion of pursuing secrecy, the view from this side of the road was completely blocked by the iron sheets added to the inside of the iron gate to fill the original gap. In addition, the high wall tightly hides everything inside; So he never saw the rest of Francais, except for the roofs and chimneys, which he could see at a distance. However, he was disappointed when he saw the house standing in the wall. It does not have the characteristics of the era of construction, but can be described in a very simple word: ugly. Come to think of it, either because it was built near the end of that era, so it could not show the characteristics of that time, or because the builders had no architectural vision at all. At first glance, the builders seem to have used simultaneous features, but they have no idea what those features actually mean, so they have made some mistakes in every part: the windows are not only out of size by nearly half a foot, but also placed in a rather strange position; the width of the doorway and the height of the stairs are all wrong. As a result of the accumulation of these mistakes, the soft, gentle and contented atmosphere of the time that the house should contain has turned into a stare full of hostility and inquiry. As Rob walked across the courtyard to the front door of the house, which seemed to keep people out, he saw the association of the house: like a family dog suddenly alarmed by the breath of a stranger, holding up its front legs and hesitating whether to attack or bark away. The room had a defiant questioning look of "what are you doing here?". The door opened before he could ring the bell, and instead of the maid, there was Marianne Xia Jin. "I see you coming," she said, holding out her hand. I don't want you to ring the bell, because my mother is still taking a nap, and I want to solve this unexpected trouble before she wakes up. Then she wouldn't know there was such a thing. I really don't know how to express my gratitude for your coming. Rob mumbled a few words, noticing that her eyes, previously thought to be bright gypsy blue, were in fact taupe. She invited him in, and as he laid his hat on the table near by, he could not help noticing that the lint of the carpet under his feet had been worn out. The police are inside. As she spoke, she led him through a door into the living room. Rob had hoped to talk to her in private and get a foretaste of things, but there was no time to suggest it. Looks like that's what she wants to do. Sitting on the edge of the beaded chair was Hallam, who looked as meek and timid as a sheep. By the window, comfortably seated in a good chair, was a lean young man from Scotland Yard, dressed in a well-cut suit. They stood up politely to greet the visitor, and Hallam and Rob nodded to each other. Well,Service Sink Faucets, you know Detective Hallam? "Marion Sharp said." The other is Inspector Grant from headquarters. Rob was a little unaccustomed to the word "headquarters" and had some doubts. Does it sound like she's dealt with the police before; or does it not sound like she just doesn't like the word "Scotland Yard"? Grant shook hands with him. "I'm glad you're here, Mr. Blair.". Not only for Miss Sharp, but for myself. Yourself? ”。