EndlessNight - (EPUB全文下载)

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ENDLESS NIGHT
Agatha Christie
"Every Night and every Morn
Some to Misery are born.
Every Morn and every Night
Some are born to Sweet Delight,
Some are born to Sweet Delight,
Some are born to Endless Night."
(Auguries of Innocence)
Book I
Chapter 1
In my end is my beginning... That's a quotation I've often heard people
say. It sounds all right, but what does it really mean?
Is there ever any particular spot where one can put one's finger and say:
"It all began that day, at such a time and such a place, with such an
incident?"
Did my story begin, perhaps, when I noticed the Sale Bill hanging on the
wall of the George and Dragon, announcing Sale by Auction
of that valuable property "The Towers," and giving particulars of the
acreage, the miles and furlongs, and the highly idealised portrait of "The
Towers" as it might have been perhaps in its prime, anything from
eighty to a hundred years ago.
I was doing nothing particular, just strolling along the main street of
Kingston Bishop, a place of no importance whatever, killing time. I noticed the Sale Bill. Why? Fate up to its dirty work? Or dealing out its
golden hand-shake of good fortune? You can look at it either way.
Or you could say, perhaps, that it all had its beginnings when I met
Santonix, during the talks I had with him; I can close my eyes and see:
his flushed cheeks, the over-brilliant eyes, and the movement of the
strong yet delicate hand that sketched and drew plans and elevations of
homes. One house in particular, a beautiful house, a home that would be
wonderful to own!
My longing for a home, a fine and beautiful home, such a house as I
could never hope to have, flowered into life then. It was a happy fantasy
shared between us, the house that Santonix would build for me - if he
lasted long enough...
A house that in my dreams I would live in with the girl that I loved, a
house in which just like a child's silly fairy story we should live together
"happy ever afterwards." All pure fantasy, all nonsense, but it started that tide of longing in me. Longing for something I was never likely to
have.
Or if this is a love story - and it's, a love story, I swear - then why not
begin where I first caught sight of Ellie standing in the dark fir trees of
Gipsy's Acre?
Gipsy's Acre. Yes, perhaps I'd better begin there, at the moment when I
turned away from the Sale board with little shiver because a black cloud
had come over the fun, and asked a question carelessly enough of one of
the locals, wh ............

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