df.theedge-第43部分

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　nice　to　everyone。'
　　Her　eyes　stretched　wide。　'He's　an　owner；'　she　said。
　　'He's　an　actor。　And　don't　give　him　away。'
　　'Of　course　I　won't。'　She　looked　slightly　dreamy…eyed；　though；　as　if　I'd　passed　on　good　news。　I　didn't　like　to　disillusion　her　about　her　or　any　girl's　prospects　with　the　gorgeous　Giles；　she　would　find　out　soon　enough。
　　The　dishes　finally　done；　Cathy　skipped　away　to　the　delights　of　the　station　and　in　her　place　I　helped　Emil　and　Oliver　stow　and　lock　up　all　the　equipment；　as　when　everyone　disembarked　at　Lake　Louise　the　train　was　again　going　to　be　standing　cold　and　silent　in　sidings　for　two　days　before　the　last　stretch　westwards　to　the　Pacific。
　　Some　but　not　all　of　the　passengers　had　gone　ashore；　so　to　speak；　at　Calgary；　and　those　who　had　been　in　the　station　came　wandering　back　in　good　time；　including　the　Youngs。　Of　Filmer　there　was　no　sign；　nor　of　the　gaunt…faced　man。　The　dining　car　half　filled　again　with　people　who　simply　preferred　sitting　there；　and　from　those　I　heard　that　the　horse　car　had　been　safely　detached　from　the　train　and　had　been　towed　away　by　the　engine；　leaving　the　rest　of　us　temporarily　stranded。
　　The　regular　Canadian；　they　told　each　other；　which　had　arrived　on　time　thirty…five　minutes　after　us；　was　the　train　standing　three　tracks　away；　its　passengers　stretching　their　legs　like　our　own。　The　Canadian；　it　seemed；　had　changed　from　threat　to　friend　in　the　general　perception；　our　Doppelganger　and　panion　on　the　journey。　The　passengers　from　both　had　mingled　and　pared　notes。　The　Conductors　had　met　for　a　talk。
　　There　was　a　jerk　and　a　shudder　through　the　train　as　the　engine　returned　and　reattached；　and　soon　afterwards　we　were　on　our　way　again；　with　passengers　crowding　now　towards　the　dome　car's　observation　deck　to　enjoy　the　ascent　into　the　mountains。
　　Filmer；　slightly　to　my　surprise；　was　among　those　going　through　the　dining　car；　and　right　behind　him　came　Nell　who　looked　over　Filmer's　shoulder　at　me　and　said；　'I've　got　a　message　for　you　from　George　Burley　'
　　'Excuse　me；　miss；'　I　said　abruptly；　standing　well　back　between　two　tables　to　let　Filmer　go　by；　'I'll　be　right　with　you。'
　　'What？　'　She　was　puzzled；　but　paused　and　stepped　sideways　also　to　let　others　behind　her　walk　on　through　the　car。　Filmer　himself　had　gone　on　without　stopping；　without　paying　Nell　or　me　the　least　attention；　and　when　his　back　was　way　down　the　car　and　well　out　of　earshot　of　a　quiet　conversation；　I　turned　back　to　Nell　with　enquiry。
　　'It's　a　bit　of　a　mix…up；'　she　said。　She　was　standing　on　the　far　side　of　the　table　from　me；　and　speaking　across　it。　'Apparently　the　telephone　in　George　Burley's　office　was　ringing　when　he　got　back　on　board；　and　it　was　a　woman　wanting　to　speak　to　a　Mr　Kelsey。　George　Burley　consulted　his　lists　and　said　there　was　no　Mr　Kelsey　on　board。　So　whoever　it　was　asked　him　to　give　a　message　to　me；　which　he　did。'
　　It　must　have　been　Mrs　Baudelaire　phoning；　I　thought'　no　one　else　knew　the　number。　Bill　himself　could　never　be　mistaken　for　a　woman。　Not　his　secretary。。。　？　heaven　forbid。
　　'What's　the　message？'　I　asked。
　　'I　don't　know　if　between　us　George　Burley　and　I　have　got　it　right。'　She　was　frowning。　'It's　meaningless；　but。。。　zero　forty…nine。　That's　the　whole　message；　zero　forty…nine。'　She　looked　at　my　face。　'You　look　happy　enough　about　it；　anyway。'
　　I　was　also　appalled；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　at　how　close　Filmer　had　e　to　hearing　it。
　　I　said；　'Yes；　well。。。　please　don't　tell　anyone　else　about　the　message；　and　please　forget　it　if　you　can。'
　　'I　can't。'
　　'I　was　afraid　not。'　I　hunted　around　if　not　for　explanations　at　least　for　a　reasonable　meaning。　'It's　to　do；'　I　said；　'with　the　border　between　Canada　and　America；　with　the　forty…ninth　parallel。'
　　'Oh；　sure。'　She　was　unsure　by　the　look　of　things；　but　willing　to　let　it　go。
　　I　said；　'Someone　will　bring　a　letter　to　the　Chateau　some　time　this　evening　addressed　to　you。　It　will　have　a　photo　in　it。　It's　for　me；　from　Bill　Baudelaire。　Will　you　see　that　I　get　it？'
　　'Yes；　OK。'　She　briefly　glanced　at　her　clipboard。　'I　wanted　to　talk　to　you　anyway　about　rooms。'　A　passenger　or　two　walked　past；　and　she　waited　until　they　had　gone。　'The　train　crew　are　staying　in　the　staff　annexe　at　Chateau　Lake　Louise　and　the　actors　will　be　in　the　hotel　itself。　Which　do　you　want？　I　have　to　write　the　list。'
　　'Our　passengers　will　be　in　the　hotel？'
　　'Ours；　yes；　but　not　the　racegoers。　They're　all　getting　off　in　Banff。　That's　the　town　before　Lake　Louise。　The　owners　are　all　staying　in　the　Chateau。　So　am　I。　Which　do　you　want？'
　　'To　be　with　you；'　I　said。
　　'Seriously。'
　　I　thought　briefly。　'Is　there　anywhere　else？'
　　'There's　a　sort　of　village　near　the　station　about　a　mile　from　the　Chateau　itself；　but　it's　just　a　few　shops；　and　they're　closing　now　at　this　time　of　the　year；　ready　for　winter。　A　lot　of　places　are　closed　by　this　time；　in　the　mountains。'　She　paused。　'The　Chateau　stands　by　itself　on　the　lake　shore。　It's　beautiful　there。'
　　'Is　it　big？'　I　asked。
　　'Huge。'
　　'OK。　I'll　stay　there　and　risk　it。'
　　'Risk　what？'
　　'Being　stripped　of　my　waistcoat。'
　　'But　you　won't　wear　it　there；'　she　assured　me。
　　'No。。。　metaphorically。'
　　She　lowered　the　clipboard　and　clicked　her　pen　for　writing。
　　'Tommy　Titmouse；'　I　said。
　　Her　lips　curved。　T。　Titmuss。'　She　spelled　it　out。　'That　do？'
　　'Fine。'
　　'What　are　you　really？'
　　'Wait　and　see；'　I　said。
　　She　gave　me　a　dry　look　but　no　answer　because　some　passengers　came　by　with　questions；　and　I　went　forward　into　the　dome　car　to　see　how　firmly　Julius　Apollo　would　appear　to　be　seated；　wondering　whether　it　would　be　safe　to　try　to　look　inside　his　briefcase　or　whether　I　should　most　stringently　obey　the　mand　not　to　risk　being　arrested。　If　he　hadn't　hoped　I　would　look；　the　Brigadier　wouldn't　have　relayed　the　number。　But　if　I　looked　and　got　caught　looking；　it　would　blow　the　whole　operation。
　　Filmer　was　nowhere　to　be　seen。
　　From　the　top　of　the　staircase；　I　searched　again　through　the　rows　of　backs　of　heads　under　the　dome。　No　thick　black　well…brushed　thatch　with　a　scattering　of　grey　hairs。　Bald；　blond；　tangled　and　trimmed；　but　no　Filmer。
　　He　wasn't　in　the　downstairs　lounge；　and　he　wasn't　in　the　bar　where　the　poker　school　was　as　usual　in　progress；　oblivious　to　the　scenery。　That　left　only　the　Lorrimores'　car。。。。　He　had　to　be　with　Mercer；　Bambi　and　Sheridan。　Xanthe　was　with　Rose　and　Cumber　Young；　watching　the　approach　of　the　distant　white　peaks　under　a　cloudless　sky。
　　I　walked　irresolutely　back　towards　Filmer's　bedroom；　wondering　whether　the　disinclination　I　felt　to　enter　it　was　merely　prudence　or　otherwise　plain　fear；　and　being　afraid　it　was　the　latter。
　　I　would　have　to　do　it；　I　thought；　because　if　I　didn't　I'd　spend　too　much　of　my　life　regretting　it。　A　permanent　D　minus　in　the　balance　sheet。　By　the　time　I　left　the　dining　room　and　started　along　the　corridor　past　the　kitchen；　I　was　already　feeling　breathless；　already　conscious　of　my　heart；　and　it　was　not　in　any　way　good　for　self…confidence。　With　a　dry　mouth　I　crossed　the　chilly　shifting　join　between　cars；　opening　and　closing　the　doors；　every　step　bringing　me　nearer　to　the　risky　mitment。
　　Filmer's　was　the　first　room　in　the　sleeping　car　beyond　the　kitchen。　I　rounded　the　corner　into　the　corridor　with　the　utmost　reluctance　and　was　just　about　to　put　my　hand　to　the　door　handle　when　the　sleeping…car　attendant；　dressed　exactly　as　I　was；　came　out　of　his　roomette　at　the　other　end　of　the　car；　saw　me；　waved　and　started　walking　towards　me。
　　With　craven　relief　I　went　slowly　towards　him；　and　he　said；　'Hi；'　and　how　was　I　doing。
　　He　was　the　familiar　one　who'd　told　me　about　Filmer's　private　breakfast；　who'd　shown　me　how　to　fold　and　unfold　the　armchairs　and　bunks；　the　one　who　looked　after　both　the　car　we　were　in　and　the　three　bedrooms；　Daffodil's　among　them；　in　the　dome　car。　He　had　all　afternoon　and　nothing　to　do　and　was　friendly　and　wanted　to　talk；　and　he　made　it　impossible　for　me　to　shed　him　and　get　back　to　my　nefarious　business。
　　He　talked　about　Daffodil　and　the　mess　she　had　made　of　her　bedroom。
　　'Mess？　'
　　'If　you　ask　me；'　he　said；　nodding；　'she'd　had　a　bottle　of　vodka　in　her　suitcase。。。。　There　was　broken　glass　all　over　the　place。　Broken　vodka　bottle。　And　the　mirror　over　the　washbasin。　In　splinters。　All　over　the　place。　I'd　guess　she　threw　the　vodka　bottle　at　the　mirror　and　they　both　broke。'
　　'A　bore　for　you　to　have　to　clear　that　up；'　I　said。
　　He　seemed　surprised。　'I　didn't　clear　it。　It's　still　like　that。　George　can　take　a　look　at　it。'　He　shrugged。　'I　don't　know　if　the　pany　will　charge　for　her　for　it。　Shouldn't　be　surprised。'
　　He　looked　over　my　shoulder　at　someone　ing　into　the　car　from　the　dining　car。
　　'Afternoon；　sir；'　he　said。
　　There　was　no　reply　from　behind　me。　I　turned　my　head　and　saw　Filmer's　backview　going　into　his　bedroom。
　　Dear　God；　I　thought　in　horror：　I　would　have　been　in　there　with　his　briefcase　open；　reading　his　papers。　I　felt　almost　sick。
　　I　sensed　more　than　saw　Filmer　e　out　of　his　bedroom　again　and　walk　towards　us。
　　'Can　I　help　you；　sir？'　the　sleeping…car　attendant　said；　going　past　me；　towards　him。
　　'Yes。　What　do　we　do　about　our　bags　at　Lake　Louise？'
　　'L