Chapter 906: The past years of youth (Ⅰ)

Joan clenched a handkerchief, like a thief who stole a hand, and fled the villa with a smoke.
As soon as I went out, I saw a graceful back view, smoking cigarettes in front of the porch.
Seemingly hearing the footsteps behind him, Mrs. Josephine turned around leisurely, with a very elegant gesture, holding a thin cigar burning a plume of green smoke, and gave him a slight smile.
This face, impeccable in appearance and makeup, reveals a hint of melancholy, but the anger of the genius is nowhere to be found on this delicate face.
While admiring the Countess's powerful emotional self-control, Joan also had to go head-to-head with a scalp and pay back to her.
"Joan, walk with me in the garden. I want to talk to you about some things."
After Mrs. Josephine had finished speaking, she did not wait for Joan to reply, and turned to the lawn.
Joan was so helpless that he had to put a handkerchief into an empty glass bottle, screwed the stopper carefully, put it in his pocket, and hurriedly followed the footsteps of the countess.
The two walked silently in the courtyard, thinking about their own things.
After a long time, the Earl’s Talent broke the silence in a sudden way.
"When we were young, we often used unruly nonsense, as you just saw."
"The problem is that we are no longer young, and we have no capital to be as frivolous as before, squandering our energy unscrupulously, and even spoiling our health for short-term happiness."
"People always have to face reality, but Trofim tries to refuse to grow up, like a stubborn child."
"Are you angry with your tutor?" Joan asked tentatively.
"You can't be angry, just a little disappointed."
Mrs. Josephine threw half-cut cigarettes into the roadside drainage ditches and said lightly:
"Especially disappointed in his taste for women."
"It can be seen that you have a bad impression of Ms. Betty."
"Betty Francois Vatican, is indeed a very attractive woman, but unfortunately she has the same personality weakness as Trofim, like a child who renounces himself."
"I can understand why Betty fell in love with Trofim, but frankly, Trofim didn't have much true feelings for her, it was just to use her as my substitute, and it was a poor imitation, I really feel sorry for her."
"You just talked about being young, and said that Ms. Betty is your substitute, so can I think that when you were young..."
Joan stopped talking.
"No need to worry about me, boy, I was very much like Betty now when I was young, and I don't have the superior conditions for her."
Mrs. Josephine stopped in the shade, raised her hand to cover the front of her forehead, narrowed her eyes, and peered through the fingernails into the summer sun.
"The problem is that at that time, I was forced to make a living, I couldn't see a way out, I was desperate, thinking about being able to live a day, not being happy and not being happy."
"If I had the current conditions of Betty Francois Vatican at that time, even if it was only for food and clothing, I would not be who I am now."
Joanne knew that she had a humble background and had a difficult life when she was young, but he couldn't make a concrete idea of ​​how hard it was.
After all, he and Madame Josephine lived in different eras, different environments, and the most important thing is different genders.
Even if Joanne is also from a poor background, it is impossible to truly empathize on this issue.
Mrs. Josephine turned her temples behind her ears, revealing small, cute, pointed ears, and smiled at him sideways.
"Have your mentor talked to you about his experiences when he was young."
"Slightly mentioned, but not much."
"Tell me."
"Most of the past mentioned by the tutor is actually related to you."
Joan is always inexplicably nervous when dealing with young opposite alone, and I don't know what to say.
But it is very strange, perhaps because Mrs. Josephine's body and appearance are exactly the same as Doo's, and his words and manners also make him feel very cordial, so it is not as tense as usual, and chatting is also natural.
Mrs. Josephine silently listened to him recounting Professor Moriarty's memories of his youth, and a scornful smile spread across his lips.
"He is still as unreliable as he used to be. In front of his students, he speaks secretly, like a fox with his head hidden."
"You mean, what the mentor told me is not all true?" Joan couldn't help asking.
Mrs. Josephine smiled and shook her head.
"This is where he is cunning. You can't tell him to lie, but he only tells you part of the truth, and let yourself misunderstand."
"For example, in the years when he and I interacted, there were actually a lot of memorable things. However, he said lightly, and deliberately omitted many key details. In order not to misunderstand you, I think it is necessary to clarify in person."
"Please speak."
Joan is not a person keen to inquire about the privacy of others. But for his mentor and the countess, he had unusual curiosity and wanted to understand their life experiences when they were young.
"Trovim told you that he had been with me once, as if this was just a small episode of adolescence."
"In fact, it's not that simple. At least as far as I'm concerned, before I met Trofim, I didn't love anyone, whether men or women."
"Trovim exposes my shortcomings in front of you, saying that I am an illegitimate daughter of a prostitute, a thief in a monastery, but this is true, but he did not tell you how I was so infatuated with him at the time, so stupid. In order to please him, he made up his mind to steal money."
"Part of my theft proceeds are used to dress myself up as beautifully as possible, trying to increase his attractiveness, and the rest of the money is used for the two of us to eat, drink and squander."
Joan nodded and sympathized with Mrs. Josephine.
"At that time I was too young. In addition to my lover, there was nothing else in my eyes. Trofim was my sun, my king. I did everything to make him happy."
"Our good days didn't last long. After the stealing of money was revealed, the nuns who hated me originally took the opportunity to beat me fiercely, hitting me with flesh and flesh, throwing me out of the monastery like garbage. Outside the door."
"I remember it was a heavy snowy day, and when I was almost frozen to death, Trofim knew where I was, and hurried to find me."
"He took me, who was no longer a man, with only one last breath, back to his home in the slum."
"In the bitterly cold winter, he sold his cotton coats and leather boots and bought me medicine for the wounds with a little money."
Mrs. Josephine's eyes were blurred, as if intoxicated in distant memories, unwilling to wake up.
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