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书虫5级《园会》女店主

所属教程:书虫5级 园会

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2022年07月26日

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The woman at the store

All that day the heat was terrible. The wind blew close to the ground, lifting the white dust from the road and driving it into our faces. The horses moved wearily, half-blinded by the dust. The pack-horse was sick—with a big sore place on her back. She kept stopping, looking too tired to go on. Hundreds of birds screamed high overhead. There was nothing to see except mile after mile of coarse grass, with the occasional purple flower or grey-green bush.

Jo rode ahead. He wore a blue shirt and a white handkerchief round his neck, with a red pattern that looked like bloodstains on it. For once, he was not singing,

I don't care, for don't you see,

My wife's mother was in front of me!'

He had sung it every day for a month; now we felt lost without it.

Jim rode beside me, white-faced. He kept licking his dry lips. We had not spoken much since dawn.

My stomach needs some real food inside it,' said Jo. 'Now, Jim, where's this store you keep talking about? You say you know a fine store with a paddock for the horses, and a creek, and a friend of yours waiting there with a bottle of whisky to share. I'd like to see that place, I really would...'

Jim laughed. 'Don't forget, Jo, there's a woman, too, with blue eyes and yellow hair, and something else to share with you. Don't forget that!'

The heat's making you crazy,' said Jo. We rode on. I fell half asleep, and dreamed that I was back home with my mother. I woke up to find that we were arriving somewhere.

We were on a hill, and below us there was a building with an iron roof. It stood in a garden; there was a paddock, a creek and some trees. Smoke rose from the chimney, and as I looked, a woman came out, followed by a child and a yellow sheep dog.

The horses found a final burst of speed, and Jo began singing, 'I don't care, for don't you see...'

The sun came through the clouds and shone on the woman's yellow hair and on the gun she was carrying. The child hid behind her, as we got off our horses, and the yellow dog ran into the building.

Hallo!' screamed the woman. 'The kid said there were three brown things coming over the hill. I ran out quick, I can tell you, to see what it was.'

Where's your old man?' asked Jim.

The woman looked away, frowning. 'Gone shearing. Been away a month. You going to stop here? There's a storm coming.'

Of course we are,' said Jo. 'So you're on your own, are you?'

She stood, looking from one to the other of us, like a hungry bird. I smiled to myself at the way the men had joked about her. Certainly she had blue eyes and yellow hair, but she was so ugly! Her hands were rough and red, and her stick-like legs were pushed into a pair of dirty old boots.

I'll put the horses in the paddock,' said Jim. 'Got any horse medicine? One of them's got a sore back.'

Wait a second.' The woman breathed deeply. Then she shouted violently, 'You can't stop here! You've got to go. I've got nothing for you! '

God help us!' said Jo heavily. He pulled me to one side. 'Gone crazy,' he said. 'On her own too much, if you know what I mean. Show some sympathy, and she'll change her mind.'

But there was no need for sympathy. She changed her mind anyway. 'Stay if you like,' she said. Then she turned to me. 'Come on—I'll give you the medicine for the horse.'

We went up the garden path. The yellow dog lay across the door, and she kicked it out of the way.

The place isn't tidy. Had no time.Been ironing. Come in.'

It was a large room. The walls were covered in pictures cut from magazines. There was a table, some broken chairs, a pile of clothes she had been ironing. A door led into the store; through another door I saw the bedroom.

She left me there and went into the store for the medicine. I could hear her talking to herself. 'Now where did I put that bottle?' Down in the paddock Jo was singing, while Jim put up the tent. The sun was going down. There are no long evenings in our New Zealand days; the sun goes down and half an hour later it's night.

Sitting alone in that ugly room, I felt afraid. The woman was a long time. What was she doing in there? 'What a life!' I thought. 'Imagine living here all alone with that child and that dog. Mad? Of course she's mad! I wonder how long she's been here—I wonder if she'll talk to me.'

What was it you wanted?' she shouted from the store.

Some medicine for the horse.'

Oh, I forgot what I was looking for. I've got it now.'

She came out and gave me a bottle.

My, you look tired, you do. Shall I make you a few scones for supper? I've got some meat you can have, too.'

All right.' I smiled at her. 'Bring the kid down to the paddock and eat with us.'

Oh, no,' she said, shaking her head. 'I'll send the kid down with the food and some milk. Want some scones to take with you tomorrow?'

Thanks.'

She came and stood by the door.

How old is the kid?' I asked.

Six next Christmas.Had a lot of trouble with her. Always sick when she was a baby, she was.'

She doesn't look much like you. Is she like her father?' I asked.

No!' she shouted. 'She's like me. Any fool could see that!'

I went down to the paddock and gave Jim the medicine for the sick horse. Jo had washed. He was combing his wet hair, smiling to himself.

I went to the end of the paddock, past the trees, and washed in the creek. The water was clear and soft as oil. I lay in the water and looked up at the trees. The air smelled of rain.

When I got back to the tent, Jim was lying by the fire. I asked him where Jo was.

Didn't you see how he'd cleaned himself up?' said Jim. 'He said to me before he went off to find her, "She isn't much, but she's a woman. She'll look good enough in the dark!"'

You told us she was pretty,' I said. 'That wasn't exactly true!'

No, listen,' Jim said. 'I don't understand what's happened to her. I haven't been here for four years. I used to know the husband well. A fine, big fellow. And she worked in bars on the West Coast—she was as pretty as a doll. Told me once she knew a hundred and twenty-five different ways of kissing!'

Oh, Jim, she can't be the same woman!'

Of course she is. I can't understand it. I think the old man's gone off and left her. That's just a lie about shearing!'

Through the dark we saw the kid coming towards us with a basket of food and some milk. I took them from her.

Come here,' Jim said to her.

She went to him. She was a tiny, thin kid, with white hair and weak, pale blue eyes.

What do you do all day?' asked Jim.

She stuck one finger in her ear. 'Draw.'

What do you draw? Leave your ear alone!'

Pictures.'

What of? Cows and sheep?'

Everything. I'll draw you when you're gone, and your horses and the tent, and that one' —she pointed at me— 'with no clothes on in the creek. I saw her but she couldn't see me.'

Thanks a lot. How nice of you,' said Jim. 'Where's your Dad?'

I won't tell you,' the kid said. 'I don't like your face.' She stuck a finger in the other ear.

Here,' I said. 'Take the basket and go and tell the other man that supper's ready.'

She ran off and we started eating. We had finished before Jo arrived. He was very red-faced and cheerful, and he had a whisky bottle in his hand.

Have a drink, you two,' he shouted. 'She wants us all to go and drink with her tonight.' He waved one hand in the air. 'We're good friends, her and me.'

I can believe that!' laughed Jim. 'But did she tell you where her old man's gone?'

Jo looked up. 'Shearing,' he said. 'You heard her, you fool.'

*  *  *

The woman had tidied the room. She had even put flowers on the table, beside the oil lamp, the glasses and the whisky bottle. The kid was drawing on a piece of wrapping paper.

The woman's hair hung loose. Her face was pink and her eyes shone. She sat with her feet touching Jo's under the table. In the hot room, with insects flying round the lamp, we all got slowly drunk.

The woman was shouting. 'Six years I've been here,' she told us, 'and it's broken me, living here. I told him, it's broken me, taken away everything I had. Left me with this kid and nothing else. Trouble is,' she went on, 'he left me alone too much. He'd go off for weeks, leave me all alone here. He'd never stay long.'

Ma,' said the kid, 'I drew a picture of them on the hill, and you and me and the dog.'

Shut your mouth!' shouted the woman.

Suddenly there was lightning, followed by the crash of thunder.

Good thing the storm's come,' said Jo. 'I've been feeling it in the air for days.'

Where's your old man now?' asked Jim slowly.

Her head dropped forward onto the table. 'He's gone shearing and left me all alone again,' she cried.

Watch the glasses,' said Jo. 'Come on, have another drink. No use crying about it.'

She dried her eyes and took the glass. 'It's a lonely life for a woman,' she said. Jo took her hand.

Every minute the lightning grew brighter and the thunder sounded nearer. I got up and went over to the kid, who immediately hid her drawings by sitting on them. 'You're not to look,' she said.

Oh, come on, show us.' Jim came over to us, and we were just drunk enough to joke and laugh the kid into showing us the pictures. They were extraordinary drawings for a child to do—clever, but very nasty. No doubt about it, the kid's mind was diseased. While we looked at the pictures, she got madly excited, laughing and trembling all over.

Ma!' she screamed. 'Now I'm going to draw what you told me I must never draw—now I'm going to!'

The woman rushed at her and hit her on the head.

You'll get worse than that if you dare say that again!' she shouted.

Jo was too drunk to notice, but Jim caught the woman by the arm. The kid did not make a sound.

We listened to the thunder. Then the rain began to fall, hitting the iron roof like bullets.

You'd better sleep here, not in the tent,' said the woman.

Good idea,' said Jo quickly.

Go and get your things from the tent. You two can sleep in the store with the kid. Mr Jo can have this room.'

It sounded a crazy arrangement, but nobody said anything. Jim and I took a lantern and went down to the tent. We ran through the rain, laughing and shouting like two children who are having a wonderful adventure.

When we came back, the kid was already in the store, lying on a blanket. Jo shouted, 'Good night, all!' We took a lamp and closed the door of the store.

Jim and I sat down on two packing cases. We looked around at the bags of potatoes, the smoked meats hanging from the ceiling, the advertisements for coffee on the walls—and couldn't stop laughing. The kid sat up and stared at us. We took no notice of her.

What are you laughing at?' she said uneasily.

You!' shouted Jim. 'You, and this whole place, my child.'

She screamed with anger and beat herself with her hands. 'I won't be laughed at, I won't!'

Go to sleep, Miss, or do some drawing,' said Jim. 'Look, here's a pencil and a bit of paper.'

Through the noise of the rain we heard Jo's footsteps in the next room, then the sound of a door opening and closing.

It's a lonely life for a woman,' whispered Jim.

A hundred and twenty-five different ways!'

The kid threw the piece of paper at me. 'There you are,' she said. 'I've done it because Ma shut me in here with you two. The thing she said I never ought to draw. I drew the one she said she'd shoot me if I did. I don't care! I don't care!'

The kid had drawn a picture of the woman shooting a man and then digging a hole to bury him in.

She threw herself to the floor, and rolled around, biting her fingers.

Jim and I sat until dawn with the drawing beside us. The rain stopped, and the little kid fell asleep, breathing loudly. We got up and went down to the paddock. A cold wind was blowing—the air smelled of wet grass. Just as we got on to the horses, Jo came out of the building—he waved to us to ride on.

I'll catch you up later!' he shouted.

A bend in the road, and the whole place disappeared.

* * *

sore adj. painful or aching from a wound, infection, or (of muscles) hard use. (因受伤、感染或〈肌肉〉激烈运动而产生的)疼痛的。

pattern n. arrangement of lines, shapes, colours, etc., esp. as decorative design on clothes, carpets, wallpaper, etc. 图案,花样,式样(尤指衣物、地毯、壁纸等的)。

paddock n. small field where horses are kept or exercised. (放牧和驯马用的)小围场。

shear v. cut the wool off (a sheep) with shears. 剪(羊的)毛。

tent n. shelter or dwelling made of canvas, etc. supported by poles and ropes attached to pegs driven into ground. 帐篷。

scone n. soft flat cake of wheat flour or barley meal baked quickly. 烤饼(用小麦面或大麦面快速烘烤的)。

clean oneself up wash oneself. 把身体洗干净。

point at aim or direct at sth. (以某事物)瞄准或对着。

wrapping paper strong or decorative paper for wrapping parcels or presents. (结实的或装饰性的)包装纸。

extraordinary adj. beyond what is ordinary; very unusual; remarkable. 不平常的;非常的;格外的。

adventure n. unusual, exciting or dangerous experience or undertaking. 不寻常的、有刺激性的或危险的经历或工作;奇遇;冒险。

take no notice of pay no attention to. 不注意;不理会。

bury v. place (a dead body) in a grave or in the sea. 将(尸体)土葬或海葬。

roll v. (cause sth. to) move on wheels or rollers or by turning (over and ver). (使某物)滚动。

catch up reach (and sometimes overtake) sb. who is ahead (e.g. in a race); reach the same stage as sb. 赶上(有时超过)某人;达到与某人相同的境界。

女店主

那天从早到晚一直酷热难熬。热风贴着地面袭来,吹起路上的白色浮灰,朝我们迎面扑来。我们的马疲惫地往前走着,它们的眼睛被灰尘迷住都快看不见了。那匹驮马病了——她背上有一大片地方在发炎。她走几步就得停一停,看起来实在是太疲倦,无法继续行进了。数百只鸟在我们头顶上方的高空中尖声鸣叫。放眼望去,目之所及只有一望无际的杂草,草丛中零星点缀着紫色的花或是灰绿色的灌木。

乔骑马走在前面。他穿着件蓝色的衬衫,脖子上围着块白围巾,围巾上红色的图案看上去像是斑斑血迹。这一次他居然没唱那首歌:

“我不在乎,难道你没看见吗,

我的丈母娘就在我前面!”

这一个月来,他每天都在唱这首歌;现在他不唱了,我们倒觉得有些不知所措。

吉姆和我并肩而行,他脸色苍白,舌头不停地舔着干裂的嘴唇。从拂晓开始,我们就没怎么说话。

“我的肚子需要填点儿实实在在的东西。”乔说,“对了,吉姆,你老是挂在嘴边的那家小店在哪儿呢?你说你知道一家不错的小店,那里有遛马的围场,有一条小溪,还有一位拿着一瓶威士忌等你去共饮的朋友。我想见到这个地方,我真想……”

吉姆笑了起来。“别忘了,乔,还有个金发碧眼的女人呢,她有别的东西要跟你分享呢。可别忘了这个呀!”

“我看你是热疯了。”乔说道。我们继续前行。我半睡半醒,梦见自己回到了家中,和母亲在一起。我醒来时,发现我们到了一个地方。

我们爬到了一座山上,山下有一幢铁皮屋顶的房子。房子坐落在一个园子里;这里有围场、有小溪、还有树木,烟囱里冒着烟。我正看着,只见一个女人出来了,身后跟着个小孩儿和一条黄色的牧羊犬。

我们的马进行最后的冲刺,乔又开始唱起来:“我不在乎,难道你没看见吗……”

太阳穿过云层,阳光照在那个女人金色的头发和手里握的枪上。我们下马的时候,小孩儿躲在她身后,那条黄狗跑进了屋里。

“喂!”那女人尖声叫道,“我家孩子说三个棕色的东西翻山过来了。我不妨告诉你们,我这么快跑出来就是为了看看是什么东西。”

“你家老头子呢?”吉姆问道。

女人转过脸去,皱起了眉头。“剪羊毛去了。都走了一个月了。你们要在这儿歇脚吗?暴风雨就要来了。”

“当然。”乔说,“就你一个人在家,对吗?”

她像是一只饥饿的鸟一般站在那里,逐个打量着我们。想到那两个男人拿这个女人开玩笑的样子,我不禁暗自窃笑。她的确长着一双蓝眼睛和一头金发,但她实在是太丑了!她的手又粗又红,棍子一样的双腿塞在一双又脏又旧的靴子里。

“我去围场遛遛马,”吉姆说,“有治疗马伤的药吗?有一匹马的背部发炎了。”

“等一下。”女人深深地吸了口气。然后她怒气冲冲地大叫起来,“你们不能待在这儿!你们得给我走!别想从我这儿得到什么!”

“我的上帝!”乔沉重地说。他把我拉到一边。“发疯了,”他说,“太孤独了,明白我的意思吗?对她表示些怜惜之情,她就会改变主意的。”

可是没必要这样做了。反正她已经改了主意。“你们愿意住就住吧。”她说。她又对我说:“来吧——我给你治马伤的药。”

我们沿着园子里的路向前走去。那条黄狗横卧在门口,她走过去一脚把它踢开。

“这里很乱,没空收拾,我一直在熨衣服呢。进来吧。”

房间很大。墙上糊着从杂志上剪下来的画页,屋里有张桌子,几把破椅子,还有一摞她熨烫的衣服。有一扇门通往店铺;透过另一扇门能看见里面的卧室。

她把我一个人留在那儿,自己进店铺找药去了。我听见她在自言自语:“我把瓶子放在哪儿了?”在围场那边,乔在唱歌,而吉姆在搭帐篷。太阳落山了。在新西兰,黄昏是很短暂的,太阳落山半个小时后就是夜晚了。

孤零零一人坐在这个丑陋的房间里,我感觉有些害怕。那女人去了很久了。她究竟在那儿干什么呢?“这过的是什么日子啊!”我寻思道,“想想看,独自生活在这里,只有那个孩子和那条狗和她做伴。疯了?她一定是疯了!真不知道她在这里住了多久了——也不知道她会不会和我聊聊。”

“你要的是什么东西?”她在店铺里大声问道。

“治马伤的药。”

“哦,我忘了要找什么东西了。现在找到了。”

她出来给了我一个瓶子。

“天啊,瞧你累的,你肯定是累了。要不要我给你们烤几个饼当晚饭?我这里还有些肉你们也可以吃。”

“好的,”我冲她笑笑,“把孩子也带到围场来,我们一起吃饭吧。”

“哦,不啦,”她摇着头说,“我让孩子给你们送点儿吃的东西和牛奶。明天走的时候想不想带上些烤饼?”

“多谢了。”

她过来站在门边。

“孩子多大了?”我问。

“到圣诞节满六岁。老是生病。一丁点儿大的时候就整天生病。”

“她长得不怎么像你,是像她爸吧?”我又问道。

“不!”她叫嚷起来,“她像我,这连傻瓜都看得出!”

我走到围场,把治疗那匹病马的药给了吉姆。乔已经洗过了。他面带微笑,正在梳理湿漉漉的头发。

我走到围场尽头,经过树林到小溪里洗澡。溪水清澈见底,润滑如油。我躺在水中,仰望着那些树木。空气中可以闻到山雨欲来的味道。

当我回到帐篷时,吉姆正在火堆旁边躺着。我问他乔去哪儿了。

“你没看见他把自己洗得干干净净吗?”吉姆说,“他去找她之前还对我说:‘她是不怎么样,可她是个女人呀。在黑暗中看起来就会好多了!’”

“你告诉我们说她长得漂亮,”我说,“可实际上却不是那么回事!”

“不是这样的,听我说,”吉姆说,“我也弄不清楚她到底怎么搞的。我有四年没来这儿了。我以前跟她丈夫很熟,她丈夫是个好人,身材魁梧。她以前在西海岸的酒吧工作——漂亮得像个洋娃娃。有一次她还告诉我说她知道125种不同的接吻方式呢!”

“噢,吉姆,她不可能是那个女人!”

“肯定是的。我也弄不明白。我想她老头子可能是离家出走弃她而去了。说什么剪羊毛去了,那是在撒谎!”

透过夜幕我们看到那孩子拿着一篮食物,还有牛奶正朝我们走来。我从她手中把东西接过来。

“过来。”吉姆对她说。

她走到他身边。她是个瘦弱的孩子,头发灰白,淡蓝色的眼睛无精打采。

“你整天都在做什么?”吉姆问道。

她把一根手指头伸到耳朵里说:“画画。”

“你画些什么呢?别摆弄你的耳朵了!”

“图画。”

“什么图画?是牛和羊吗?”

“什么都有。你们走以后我会把你们都画下来,还有你们的马、你们的帐篷,还有那个人——”她指指我——“光着身子待在河里。我看见她了,可她看不见我。”

“多谢了,你可真是太好了。”吉姆说,“你爸爸去哪儿了?”

“我才不告诉你呢,”那孩子说,“我不喜欢你那张脸。”她又把手指头伸到了另一只耳朵里。

“喂,”我说,“拿上这个篮子回去,告诉我们中的另外一个人,就说晚饭准备好了。”

她跑开了,我们开始吃晚饭。我们都吃完了,乔才回来。他满脸通红、兴高采烈,手里还拿着一个威士忌酒瓶。

“你们两个,来喝一杯。”他大声叫道,“她叫我们今天晚上都过去和她喝酒。”他的一只手在空中比划着,“我们成好朋友了,我和她。”

“这我相信!”吉姆笑着说,“可是她告诉你她老头子去哪儿了吗?”

乔抬头望望。“剪羊毛去了呗,”他说,“你们都听到了呀,真是傻瓜。”

*  *  *

那女人已经把房间收拾好了,她还在桌上放了些花,花的旁边点着油灯,还摆着玻璃杯和威士忌酒瓶。孩子正在一张包装纸上画画。

那女人的头发松松地垂着,她的面色红润,双眼奕奕闪光。她坐在那儿,脚在桌子底下碰着乔的脚。闷热的房间里,虫子绕着油灯飞舞,我们渐渐地都有了醉意。

那女人在大声喊叫。“我在这儿都六年了,”她告诉我们,“住在这儿把我给毁了。我对他说,我给毁了,我的一切都给夺走了。只给我留下个孩子,其他什么都没有了。我苦恼的是,”她接着说,“他老是把我一个人扔下。他一走就是几个星期,把我一个人孤零零地扔在这儿。他从来都不会待很长时间。”

“妈,”孩子说道,“我画了一张他们在山上的画,还有你、我和狗。”

“闭上你的嘴!”那女人叫道。

突然打起了闪,接着就是轰隆隆的雷声。

“太好了,暴风雨来了,”乔说,“这几天从空气里一直能感觉得到。”

“你老头子现在在哪儿?”吉姆慢吞吞地问。

她头向前趴到了桌子上。“他剪羊毛去了,又把我一个人扔下了。”她哭了起来。

“当心杯子。”乔说,“来,再来一杯。哭也没用。”

她擦干眼泪,拿起杯子。“这种生活对女人来说实在是太寂寞了。”她说。乔握住了她的手。

闪电越来越亮,雷声越来越近,一刻都没停。我站起来走到孩子跟前,她马上把画压到屁股底下,藏了起来。“不许看。”她说。

“哎哟,拿来,让我们看看。”吉姆也到我们这边来了。我们借着几分醉意逗着她让我们看了她画的画。这些画对于一个孩子来讲有些反常——运笔熟练,但是画面让人恶心。毫无疑问,这个孩子的脑子肯定有毛病。我们看她的画时,她兴奋得发狂,又是大笑,又是浑身发抖。

“妈!”她尖叫道,“现在我可要画那些你从来都不叫我画的东西了——现在我可要画了!”

那女人冲过去打她的头。

“你要是再敢这么说,小心比这还厉害!”她大吼道。

乔醉得什么也没觉察到,而吉姆却一把抓住了女人的胳膊。孩子一声没吭。

我们听着雷声。紧接着雨就下起来了,雨点像子弹一样击打着铁皮屋顶。

“你们最好睡在这儿,别睡帐篷了。”那女人说。

“好主意。”乔赶快应道。

“去把你们帐篷里的东西拿过来。你们两个和孩子一起睡在店里,乔先生睡这个房间。”

这个安排听起来太愚蠢了,可谁也没说什么。我和吉姆打着灯笼去帐篷那儿。我们俩在雨中奔跑,笑着、大叫着,就像两个正在进行一次奇妙冒险的孩子。

我们回来的时候,孩子已经躺在毯子上,被安置在店铺里了。乔叫道:“大家晚安!”我们接过灯,关上了店门。

我和吉姆坐在两个包装箱上,环顾着四周成袋的土瓦,天花板上挂着的熏肉,墙上贴着的咖啡广告——我们禁不住笑起来。孩子坐了起来,盯着我们看。我们没有去理会她。

“你们笑什么呢?”她不安地问。

“笑你呢!”吉姆高声说,“笑你,还有这整个地方,我的孩子。”

她生气地叫了起来,并用手打自己。“我不许你们笑话我,不许!”

“睡吧,小姐,要不你就画画,”吉姆说,“看,这里有枝铅笔,还有一小块纸。”

透过雨声,我们听到了乔在隔壁房间里的脚步声,接着我们听到了开门和关门的声响。

“这种生活对于女人来说实在是太寂寞了。”吉姆小声说。

“125种不同的方式!”

孩子朝我扔来一张纸。“给你,”她说,“我画这个是因为我妈把我同你们两个关在这里。我画的是她从来都不许我画的东西。她说要是我画了,她就毙了我,可我还是画下来了。我不在乎!我才不在乎呢!”

孩子画的是那个女人开枪打死了一个男人,然后挖坑去埋葬他。

她扑倒在地板上,咬着手指头在地上打滚。

我和吉姆伴着身边那幅画一直坐到天明。雨停了,孩子也睡着了,发出很响的呼吸声。我们起身朝围场走去。一阵冷风刮来——空气中散发着湿草的清香。正当我们翻身上马的时候,乔从房里走了出来——他挥手示意我们骑马赶路。“我回头追你们!”他喊道。转过一个弯,整个地方就不见了。

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