I went to the East again three years ago, in September. On the train from London to Brindisi, Italy, I met the Mr. Alastair Colvin.
Mr. Corvin is of medium build, his hair is beginning to become gray, and his lips are whiskers, a gentleman style. He didn’t talk much, he used words to standardize his words. We always meet when we eat in the dining car and rest in the smoking room. He is always looking at the train timetable, but I can see that he can’t concentrate on reading a page. He knew that I was traveling to the East, just the same way, so he talked to me about this topic. But he lost interest in less than a quarter of an hour and left me to go back to his car room. But after a while he came back and picked up the words he had just said.
I don’t find it strange that Mr. Colvin looks like this. After the train has been sitting for a long time, some people will become restless and lose their normality. But when I saw Mr. Colvin’s fidgety appearance, I just felt that it was not quite commensurate with his gentlemanly manner. When I looked at him, I accidentally found a new scar on his big beautiful hand with a deep, long, uneven surface. Naturally, I haven’t asked him anything.
When we arrived in Brindisi, we did not have a few passengers waiting for the boat to check in the luggage and verify the cabin, and then went to an international hotel to spend the night. After dinner, I was sitting in the restaurant and resting. I saw Mr. Colvin hurriedly came to my table from the side of the restaurant and sat down. He picked up an Italian (Century Times) on the table, but almost immediately I gave up pretending to read a newspaper and turned to face me.
“Can you do me a favor?”
I didn’t know Mr. Colvin. I just met by accident on the train. I couldn’t help him. But I smiled incomprehensiblely and asked him what was wrong.
He answered me bluntly, “Can you let me sleep in your cabin on the ship?”
Nothing is more inconvenient than living in a cabin with a stranger at sea. Then, I answered him straightforwardly: “I don’t think there are many passengers. There must be a place on the boat for all of us to live in.” I said in my heart that he probably couldn’t get close to any partner and wanted to avoid him.
Mr. Colvin still ignores what I mean: “I have a separate cabin myself. But if you can let me live with you, it will really help me the most.”
He has his own separate cabin and does not live. If he wants to live in my cabin, there must be some special reasons. If he does have difficulty, it is not bad for him to sleep in my cabin. Naturally, I have been sleeping better alone. However, I heard that there have been some thefts on the steamer recently. Although Mr. Colvin looks honest and honest, I can’t help but hesitate. He probably saw my attitude, and immediately told me, “I am a member of the Conservative Party.” I could not help laughing when I heard his introduction. In order to ensure his identity, he reported himself to a completely stranger in a hotel in Brindisi and said his identity. He must be out of frustration. I’m