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VII
your way. And they will drive in the middle of the road! Pretty hopeless driving in England,
anyway…. Not like France where you really could let out….”
Should he stop here for a drink, or push on? Heaps of time! Only another hundred miles
This island place ought to be rather good fun—if the weather lasted. Who were these
like that out. Of course, he had to, poor old chap, with no money of his own….
Hope they’d do one well in drinks. Never knew with these fellows who’d made their
money and weren’t born to it. Pity that story about Gabrielle Turl having bought Soldier Island
wasn’t true. He’d like to have been in with that film star crowd.
Oh, well, he supposed there’d be a few girls there….
Coming out of the hotel, he stretched himself, yawned, looked up at the blue sky and
climbed into the Dalmain.
Several young women looked at him admiringly—his six feet of well-proportioned body,
his crisp hair, tanned face, and intensely blue eyes.
He let in the clutch with a roar and leapt up the narrow street. Old men and errand boys
jumped for safety. The latter looked after the car admiringly.
Anthony Marston proceeded on his triumphal progress.
7
安东尼·马斯顿猛踩油门，他心想：
这么一堆汽车像蜗牛一样在路上爬，实在夸张。总有车子挡在前面，胡乱并线，在马
路中间开！英国的交通真可怕。不像法国，你大可以……
是停车歇会儿喝一杯，还是继续赶路？反正时间有的是。再开一百多英里就到了。得
来一杯杜松子加姜汁啤酒。这热得要命的鬼天气！
如果天气一直这么热的话，去岛上可就太享受了！那个叫欧文的是什么人，他并不清
楚。大概就是个暴发户，家财万贯的有钱人。巴杰尔在帮人打听有钱人的消息这方面的确
很在行。当然，他也是身不由己。这可怜的老家伙，自己穷得叮当响。
希望他家能用好酒招待客人。他跟这类不是生来就懂得花钱享受的暴发户从没打过交
道。可惜关于加布里埃尔·特尔买下士兵岛的说法纯属虚构，要不然他还真想跟这些电影人
打打交道。
不过，那儿总会有几个姑娘助兴吧……
走出饭店，他伸了个懒腰，打了个哈欠，望一望蓝天，然后又钻进达尔曼跑车。
几个年轻姑娘一脸崇拜地盯着他——他身高六英尺，身材匀称，头发蓬松，小麦色的
皮肤，还有一双深邃的蓝眼睛。
他猛轰油门。随着马达的轰鸣声，跑车在狭窄的街道上飞驰而过，把老人和那些替人
跑腿的男孩儿吓得直往两边跳。那些男孩儿还一个劲儿盯着他的汽车瞧呢，满脸羡慕。
安东尼·马斯顿开心地继续享受他的旅程。
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