Chapter 827:

"Mr. Hartlet, it's nice to have you in Limerick," he said in a hoarse, hoarse voice, which combined in a pleasant way with discordant high notes and lazy speech. "Please sit down. Please don't bother to move your chair. Please, in my nervous state, any form of movement is very painful for me. Have you seen your studio? Will it?"
"I just came from looking at the room, Mr. Fairley; I assure you-"
He closed his eyes, raised a blank hand impatiently, and stopped me in the middle of the sentence. I stopped in surprise. This hoarse voice makes me very honored—
"Please forgive me, but maybe you are conspiring to say at a lower key? In the miserable state of my nerves, any kind of loud voice is indescribable to torture me, will you forgive an invalid? I only treat you What a sad state of my health makes me have to tell everyone. Yes, do you really like this room?"
I replied, putting down my voice and saying, "I have no desire to be more beautiful and comfortable than this." I have begun to discover that Mr. Fairley's selfish feelings and Mr. Fairley's petty spirit are the same thing. .
It is difficult for me to accept any kind of effort. Yes. Thank you. "
As a practical comment on liberal social theory, Mr. Fairley’s request is very cool, which makes me very happy. He just gave me an example and liked me. I put back a drawer as politely as possible and gave him another one. He immediately began to tidy up with new coins and a small brush. When he kept talking to me, he always looked at them lazily and admired them.
"A thousand thanks and a thousand excuses. Do you like coins? Yes. I'm glad we have another hobby in addition to art. Now, about the money arrangement between us-tell me , Are they satisfactory?"
"The most satisfying, Mr. Fairley."
"So happy. And-what's next? Ah! I remember. Yes. Regarding your considerations enough to benefit me from artistic achievements, my housekeeper will wait for you when you reach the end. The first week, Determine your wishes, and then-what's next? Very curious, isn't it? I have a lot to say: I seem to have completely forgotten. Would you mind pressing the bell? Thank you."
I called; a new servant appeared silently on his appearance-a foreigner with a smile and perfectly combed hair-became a valet for every inch of him behind him.
"Louise," Mr. Fairley said, using one of the dreamy fine brushes to wipe the dust off the tips of his fingers, "I made a few input on the tablet this morning. Find my tablet. A thousand pardons Book, Mr. Hartwright, I'm afraid I'm bored."
When he closed his eyes again wearily, before I couldn't answer, and when he was sure that it bored me, I sat quietly and looked up at Raphael's "Madonna and the Child." During this period, the valet left the room and soon returned with an ivory book. Mr. Philley breathed a sigh of relief first, then opened the book with one hand and raised the small brush with the other, as a sign that the servant was waiting for further orders.
"Yes. That's it!" Mr. Fairley said when consulting the tablet. "Louis, take that portfolio." In his speech, he pointed out several file bags on the mahogany shelf near the window. "No. It's not the green back. It contains my Rembrandt etchings, sir. Do you like etching? Do you? Glad we have another taste in common. The picture book on the red back, Louis. Don't drop it! Do you have any thoughts that I should be tortured, sir, if Louis discards the combination. It is safe on the chair? Do you think it is safe, Mr. Hartlet? Yes? Very happy. If you really think the drawing is safe, May I ask them to look at the drawings. Louis, go away. You are such a bastard. Didn't you see me holding the pills? Do you want me to hug them? Why don't you give me the pills without telling me? One Thousands of pardons, Mr. Hartwright; servants are just such donkeys, aren’t they? Tell me-what do you think of the drawings? They come from a shocking state of sale-I thought, when I saw them for the last time, they smelled At the finger of the terrible dealer and broker. Can you accept it?"
Although my nerves were not delicate enough to detect the index finger that touched Mr. Fairley's nostrils, my taste was educated enough to allow me to appreciate the value of the drawings and at the same time turn them over. In most cases, they are true examples of British watercolor art. They deserve better treatment than their previous owners.
I replied: "These drawings need to be carefully tightened and installed; in my opinion, they are worth it-"
"I'm sorry," Mr. Fairley interjected. "Do I mind if I close my eyes when you speak? Even the light is too big for them. Is it?"
"What I want to say is that these drawings have always been worthwhile and troublesome-"
Mr. Fairley suddenly opened his eyes again, and made a helpless look of surprise toward the window.
"I ask you to forgive me, Mr. Hartlet," he said weakly. "But to be sure, I heard some terrible children in the garden below-my private garden?"
"I can't say, Mr. Fairley. I heard nothing myself."
"Allow me-you have been so good at soothing my poor nerves-to lift the corner of the blind man to make me obliged. Mr. Hartlet, don't let the sun shine into me! Did you lift the blind man? Did you? Would you look at the garden kindly and be sure?"
I have complied with this new requirement. The entire garden is carefully walled. No human beings, large or small, appeared in any part of the sacred seclusion. I reported this gratifying fact to Mr. Fairley.
"Thank you for a thousand. I think, my fantasy. There are no children in the house, thank goodness; but the servants who are inherently nervous will encourage the children to come from the village. This kind of stinky boy-oh my dear me, this stinky Boy. "Shall I admit it, Mr. Hartwright? "-Sadly, I want to reform the structure of children. The only idea in nature seems to be to make them a constant noise machine. Of course, our pleasant Raphael concept is absolutely desirable?"
He pointed to the photo of Madonna. The upper part of Madonna represents the traditional little angels of Italian art, and the light yellow balloon provides an adjustable sitting position for their chins.
"A model family!" Mr. Fairley said, mocking the little angel. "Such a beautiful round face, such beautiful soft wings, nothing else. No dirty calves to run, no noisy small lungs to scream. This is much better than the existing structure! I will close my eyes again, "If you allow, can I really manage the drawings? very happy. Is there anything else to solve? If so, I think I have forgotten. Shall we go find Louis? "
At that time, just as Mr. Fairley was obviously by my side, eager to make the interview end soon, I thought I would make the servant's call unnecessary by providing the necessary conditions. My own suggestion.
I said, "Mr. Fairley, there is one more point to discuss. I think it refers to the sketching guide I am communicating with two young ladies."
"Ah! That's it," Mr. Fairley said. "I wish I could feel strong enough to get into that part of the arrangement, but I didn't. Mr. Hartwright, the ladies who profited from your kind service, had to resolve and decide by themselves, etc. My My niece, she likes your charming art, and her knowledge of art is enough to make her aware of her sad flaws. Please work with her. Yes. Are there others? No. We know each other well, don’t we? No rights Have you imprisoned you from the delightful pursuit again-is it? It's so happy to solve everything-doing business so wisely at ease. Would you mind letting the portfolio be brought to your own room?"
"If you allow me, I will bring it there myself, Mr. Fairley."
"Are you really? Are you strong enough? How happy to be so strong! Are you sure you won't leave it? I'm glad to have you, sir. I am so painful, I hardly want to enjoy most of your society Fun, are you willing to effortlessly not let the door sway or lose your portfolio? Good morning!"
When the sea-green curtains closed, when the two shutter doors closed behind me, I stopped in the small rotunda outside for a while, drawing a long and luxurious breath. It was like coming to the surface after a deep dive, and found myself outside the husband's room again.
When I settled down in a beautiful small studio, the first solution I arrived at was to stop walking in the direction of the apartment occupied by the owner, unless he specifically invited me to visit again in unlikely circumstances he. After drawing up this satisfactory future behavior plan with reference to Mr. Fairley, I quickly recovered my temper, and my boss’s haughty familiarity and rude manners temporarily lost my temper. The remaining hours in the morning passed happily enough. They looked at the drawings, arranged them in pairs, trimmed the jagged edges, and completed other necessary preparations for installation. Maybe I should make more progress than this. However, as the lunch time approached, I became restless, turbulent, and even unable to concentrate on work, even though it was just a humble manual job.
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