Estella leaned against the gate, listening for the sound of wheels and dreamily watching the light shining out from the window of Vivienne LeMar's room. The blind was up and she could see Miss LeMar writing at her table. Her profile was clear and distinct against the lamplight.
Estella reflected without the least envy that Miss LeMar was very beautiful. She had never seen anyone who was really beautiful before—beautiful with the loveliness of the heroines in the novels she sometimes read or the pictures she had seen.
Estella Bowes was not pretty. She was a nice-looking girl, with clear eyes, rosy3 cheeks, and a pervading4 air of the content and happiness her life had always known. She was an orphan5 and lived with her uncle and aunt. In the summer they sometimes took a boarder for a month or two, and this summer Miss LeMar had come. She had been with them about a week. She was an actress from the city and had around her all the glamour6 of a strange, unknown life. Nothing was known about her. The Boweses liked her well enough as a boarder. Estella admired and held her in awe7. She wondered what Spencer would think of this beautiful woman. He had not yet seen her.
It was quite dark when he came. Estella opened the gate for him, but he got out of his buggy and walked up the lane beside her with his arm about her. Miss LeMar's light had removed to the parlour where she was singing, accompanying herself on the cottage organ. Estella felt annoyed. The parlour was considered her private domain8 on Wednesday and Saturday night, but Miss LeMar did not know that.
"Who is singing?" asked Spencer. "What a voice she has!"
"That's our new boarder, Miss LeMar," answered Estella. "She's an actress and sings and does everything. She is awfully9 pretty, Spencer."
"Yes?" said the young man indifferently.
He was not in the least interested in the Boweses' new boarder. Indeed, he considered her advent10 a nuisance. He pressed Estella closer to him, and when they reached the garden gate he kissed her. Estella always remembered that moment afterwards. She was so supremely12 happy.
Spencer went off to put up his horse, and Estella waited for him on the porch steps, wondering if any other girl in the world could be quite so happy as she was, or love anyone as much as she loved Spencer. She did not see how it could be possible, because there was only one Spencer.
When Spencer came back she took him into the parlour, half shyly, half proudly. He was a handsome fellow, with a magnificent physique. Miss LeMar stopped singing and turned around on the organ stool as they entered. The little room was flooded with a mellow light from the pink-globed lamp on the table, and in the soft, shadowy radiance she was as beautiful as a dream. She wore a dress of crepe, cut low in the neck. Estella had never seen anyone dressed so before. To her it seemed immodest.
She introduced Spencer. He bowed awkwardly and sat stiffly down by the window with his eyes riveted13 on Miss LeMar's face. Estella, catching14 a glimpse of herself in the old-fashioned mirror above the mantel, suddenly felt a cold chill of dissatisfaction. Her figure had never seemed to her so stout15 and stiff, her brown hair so dull and prim16, her complexion17 so muddy, her features so commonplace. She wished Miss LeMar would go out of the room.
Vivienne LeMar watched the two faces before her; a hard gleam, half mockery, half malice18, flashed into her eyes and a smile crept about her lips. She looked straight in Spencer Morgan's honest blue eyes and read there the young man's dazzled admiration19. There was contempt in the look she turned on Estella.
"You were singing when we came in," said Spencer. "Won't you go on, please? I am very fond of music."
Miss LeMar turned again to the organ. The gleaming curves of her neck and shoulders rose out of their filmy sheathings of lace. Spencer, sitting where he could see her face with its rose-leaf bloom and the ringlets of golden hair clustering about it, gazed at her, unheeding of aught else. Estella saw his look. She suddenly began to hate the black-eyed witch at the organ—and to fear her as well. Why did Spencer look at her like that? She wished she had not brought him in at all. She felt commonplace and angry, and wanted to cry.
Vivienne LeMar went on singing, drifting from one sweet love song into another. Once she looked up at Spencer Morgan. He rose quickly and went to her side, looking down at her with a strange fire in his eyes.
Estella got up abruptly20 and left the room. She was angry and jealous, but she thought Spencer would follow her. When he did not, she could not believe it. She waited on the porch for him, not knowing whether she were more angry or miserable21. She would not go back into the room. Vivienne LeMar had stopped singing. She could hear a low murmur22 of voices. When she had waited there an hour, she went in and upstairs to her room with ostentatious footsteps. She was too angry to cry or to realize what had happened, and still kept hoping all sorts of impossible things as she sat by her window.
It was ten o'clock when Spencer went away and Vivienne LeMar passed up the hall to her room. Estella clenched23 her hands in an access of helpless rage. She was very angry, but under her fury was a horrible ache of pain. It could not be only three hours since she had been so happy! It must be more than that! What had happened? Had she made a fool of herself? Ought she to have behaved in any other way? Perhaps Spencer had come out to look for her after she had gone upstairs and, not finding her, had gone back to Miss LeMar to show her he was angry. This poor hope was a small comfort. She wished she had not acted as she had. It looked spiteful and jealous, and Spencer did not like people who were spiteful and jealous. She would show him she was sorry when he came back, and it would be all right.
She lay awake most of the night, thinking out plausible24 reasons and excuses for Spencer's behaviour, and trying to convince herself that she had exaggerated everything absurdly. Towards morning she fell asleep and awoke hardly remembering what had happened. Then it rolled back upon her crushingly.
But she rose and dressed in better spirits. It had been hardest to lie there and do nothing. Now the day was before her and something pleasant might happen. Spencer might come back in the evening. She would be doubly nice to him to make up.
Mrs. Bowes looked sharply at her niece's dull eyes and pale cheeks at the breakfast table. She had her own thoughts of things. She was a large, handsome woman with a rather harsh face.
"Did you go upstairs last night and leave Spencer Morgan with Miss LeMar?" she asked bluntly.
"Yes," muttered Estella.
"Did you have a quarrel with him?"
"No."
"What made you act so queer?"
The food she was eating seemed to choke her. She wished she were a hundred miles away from everyone she ever knew.
"Well, I think it is a pretty queer piece of business. But if you are satisfied, it isn't anyone else's concern, I suppose. He stayed with her till ten o'clock and when he left she did everything but kiss him—and she asked him to come back too. I heard."
"Aunt!" protested the girl.
She felt as if her aunt were striking her blow after blow on a sensitive, quivering spot. It was bad enough to know it all, but to hear it put into such cold, brutal27 words was more than she could endure. It seemed to make everything so horribly sure.
"I guess I had a right to listen, hadn't I, with such goings on in my own house? You're a little fool, Estella Bowes! I don't believe that LeMar girl is a bit better than she ought to be. I wish I'd never taken her to board, and if you say so, I'll send her packing right off and not give her a chance to make mischief28 atween folks."
"You needn't do anything of the sort!" she cried.
"It's all nonsense about Spencer—it was my fault—and anyhow, if he is so easily led away as that, I am sure I don't want him! I wish to goodness, Aunt, you'd leave me alone!"
"Oh, very well!" returned Mrs. Bowes in an offended tone. "It was for your own good I spoke29. You know best, I suppose. If you don't care, I don't know that anyone else need."
Estella went about her work like one in a dream. A great hatred30 had sprung up in her heart against Vivienne LeMar. The simple-hearted country girl felt almost murderous. The whole day seemed like a nightmare to her. When night came she dressed herself with feverish31 care, for she could not quell32 the hope that Spencer would surely come again. But he did not; and when she went up to bed, it did not seem as if she could live through the night. She lay staring wide-eyed through the darkness until dawn. She wished that she might cry, but no tears came to her relief.
Next day she went to work with furious energy. When her usual tasks were done, she ransacked33 the house for other employment. She was afraid if she stopped work for a moment she would go mad. Mrs. Bowes watched her with a grim pity.
At night she walked to prayer meeting in the schoolhouse a mile away. She always went, and Spencer was generally on hand to see her home. He was not there tonight. She wished she had not come. It was dreadful to have to sit still and think. She did not hear a word the minister said.
She had to walk home with a crowd of girls and nerve herself to answer their merry sallies that no one might suspect. She was tortured by the fear that everyone knew her shame and humiliation34 and was pitying her. She got hysterically35 gay, but underneath36 all she was constantly trying to assign a satisfactory reason for Spencer's nonappearance. He was often kept away, and of course he was a little cross at her yet, as was natural. If he had come before her then, she could have gone down in the very dust at his feet and implored37 his forgiveness.
When she reached home she went into the garden and sat down. The calm of the night soothed38 her. She felt happier and more hopeful. She thought over all that had passed between her and Spencer and all his loving assurances, and the recollection comforted her. She was almost happy when she went in.
Tomorrow is Sunday, she thought when she wakened in the morning. Her step was lighter40 and her face brighter. Mrs. Bowes seemed to be in a bad humour. Presently she said bluntly:
"Do you know that Spencer Morgan was here last night?"
"Spencer here! I suppose he forgot it was prayer meeting night. What did he say? Why didn't you tell him where I was?"
"I don't know that he forgot it was prayer meeting night," returned Mrs. Bowes with measured emphasis. "'Tisn't likely his memory has failed so all at once. He didn't ask where you was. He took good care to go before you got home too. Miss LeMar entertained him. I guess she was quite capable of it."
"I'll send her away," said Mrs. Bowes pityingly. "When she's gone, Spencer will soon come back to you."
"No, you won't!" said Estella fiercely. "If you do, she'll only go over to Barstows', and it would be worse than ever. I don't care—I'll show them both I don't care! As for Spencer coming back to me, do you think I want her leavings? He's welcome to go."
"He's only just fooled by her pretty face," persisted Mrs. Bowes in a clumsy effort at consolation43. "She's just turning his head, the hussy, and he isn't really in his proper senses. You'll see, he'll be ashamed of himself when he comes to them again. He knows very well in his heart that you're worth ten girls like her."
Estella faced around.
"Aunt," she said desperately44, "you mean well, I know, but you're killing45 me! I can't stand it. For pity's sake, don't say another word to me about this, no matter what happens. And don't keep looking at me as if I were a martyr46! She watches us and it would please her to think I cared. I don't—and I mean she shall see I don't. I guess I'm well rid of a fellow as fickle47 as he is, and I've sense enough to know it."
She went upstairs then, tearing off her turquoise48 engagement ring as she climbed the steps. All sorts of wild ideas flashed through her head. She would go down and confront Vivienne LeMar—she would rush off and find Spencer and throw his ring at him, no matter where he was—she would go away where no one would ever see her again. Why couldn't she die? Was it possible people could suffer like this and yet go on living?
"I don't care—I don't care!" she moaned, telling the lie aloud to herself, as if she hoped that by this means she would come to believe it.
When twilight49 came she went out to the front steps and leaned her aching head against the honeysuckle trellis. The sun had just set and the whole world swam in dusky golden light. The wonderful beauty frightened her. She felt like a blot50 on it.
While she stood there, a buggy came driving up the lane and wheeled about at the steps. In it was Spencer Morgan.
Estella saw him and, in spite of the maddening throb51 of hope that seemed suddenly to transfigure the world for her, her pride rose in arms. Had Spencer come the night before, he would have found her loving and humble52. Even now, had she but been sure that he had come to see her, she would have unbent. But was it the other? The torturing doubt stung her to the quick.
She waited, stubbornly resolved that she would not speak first. It was not in her place. Spencer Morgan flicked53 his horse sharply with his whip. He dared not look at Estella, but he felt her uncompromising attitude. He was miserably54 ashamed of himself, and he felt angry at Estella for his shame.
"Do you care to come for a drive?" he asked awkwardly, with a covert55 glance at the parlour windows.
Estella caught the glance and her jealous perception instantly divined its true significance. Her heart died within her. She did not care what she said.
"Oh," she cried with a toss of her head, "it's not me you want—it's Miss LeMar, isn't it? She's away at the shore. You'll find her there, I dare say."
Still, in spite of all, she perversely56 hoped. If he would only make any sign, the least in the world, that he was sorry—that he still loved her—she could forgive him everything. When he drove away without another word, she could not believe it again. Surely he would not go—surely he knew she did not mean it—he would turn back before he got to the gate.
But he did not. She saw him disappear around the turn of the road. She could not see if he took the shore lane further on, but she was sure he would. She was furious at herself for acting57 as she had done. It was all her fault again! Oh, if he would only give her another chance!
She was in her room when she heard the buggy drive up again. She knew it was Spencer and that he had brought Vivienne LeMar home. Acting on a sudden wild impulse, the girl stepped out on the landing and confronted her rival as she came up the stairs.
The latter paused at sight of the white face and anguished58 eyes. There was a little mocking smile on her lovely face.
"Miss LeMar," said Estella in a quivering voice, "what do you mean by all this? You know I'm engaged to Spencer Morgan!"
Miss LeMar laughed softly.
"Really? If you are engaged to the young man, my dear Miss Bowes, I would advise you to look after him more sharply. He seems very willing to flirt59, I should say."
She passed on to her room with a malicious60 smile. Estella shrank back against the wall, humiliated61 and baffled. When she found herself alone, she crawled back to her room and threw herself face downward on the bed, praying that she might die.
But she had to live through the horrible month that followed—a month so full of agony that she seemed to draw every breath in pain. Spencer never sought her again; he went everywhere with Miss LeMar. His infatuation was the talk of the settlement. Estella knew that her story was in everyone's mouth, and her pride smarted; but she carried a brave front outwardly. No one should say she cared.
She believed that the actress was merely deluding62 Spencer for her own amusement and would never dream of marrying him. But one day the idea occurred to her that she might. Estella had always told herself that even if Spencer wanted to come back to her she would never take him back, but now, by the half-sick horror that came over her, she knew how strong the hope had really been and despised herself more than ever.
One evening she was alone in the parlour. She had lit the lamp and was listlessly arranging the little room. She looked old and worn. Her colour was gone and her eyes were dull. As she worked, the door opened and Vivienne LeMar walked or, rather, reeled into the room.
Estella dropped the book she held and gazed at her as one in a dream. The actress's face was flushed and her hair was wildly disordered. Her eyes glittered with an unearthly light. She was talking incoherently. The air was heavy with the fumes63 of brandy.
Estella laughed hysterically. Vivienne LeMar was grossly intoxicated64. This woman whom Spencer Morgan worshipped, for whom he had forsaken65 her, was reeling about the room, laughing idiotically, talking wildly in a thick voice. If he could but see her now!
Estella turned white with the passion of the wild idea that had come to her. Spencer Morgan should see this woman in her true colours.
She lost no time. Swiftly she left the room and locked the door behind her on the maudlin66, babbling67 creature inside. Then she flung a shawl over her head and ran from the house. It was not far to the Morgan homestead. She ran all the way, hardly knowing what she was doing. Mrs. Morgan answered her knock. She gazed in bewilderment at Estella's wild face.
"I want Spencer," said the girl through her white lips.
The elder woman stepped back in dumb amazement68. She knew and rued69 her son's folly70. What could Estella want with him?
"No, she is not ill. But she wants you. Come at once."
He started off bareheaded. Estella followed him up the road breathlessly. Surely it was the strangest walk ever a girl had, she told herself with mirthless laughter. She pushed the key into his hand at the porch.
"She's in the parlour," she said wildly. "Go in and look at her, Spencer."
Spencer snatched the key and fitted it into the door. He was full of fear. Had Estella gone out of her mind? Had she done anything to Vivienne? Had she—
As he entered, the actress reeled to her feet and came to meet him. He stood and gazed at her stupidly. This could not be Vivienne, this creature reeking74 with brandy, uttering such foolish words! What fiend was this in her likeness75?
He grew sick at heart and brain; she had her arms about him. He tried to push her away, but she clung closer, and her senseless laughter echoed through the room. He flung her from him with an effort and rushed out through the hall and down the road like a madman. Estella, watching him, felt that she was avenged76. She was glad with a joy more pitiful than grief.
Vivienne LeMar left the cottage the next day. Mrs. Bowes, suspecting some mystery, questioned Estella sharply, but could find out nothing. The girl kept her own counsel stubbornly. The interest and curiosity of the village centred around Spencer Morgan, and his case was well discussed. Gossip said that the actress had jilted him and that he was breaking his heart about it. Then came the rumour77 that he was going West.
Estella heard it apathetically78. Life seemed ended for her. There was nothing to look forward to. She could not even look back. All the past was embittered79. She had never met Spencer since the night she went after him. She sometimes wondered what he must think of her for what she had done. Did he think her unwomanly and revengeful? She did not care. It was rather a relief to hear that he was going away. She would not be tortured by the fear of meeting him then. She was sure he would never come back to her. If he did, she would never forgive him.
One evening in early harvest Estella was lingering by the lane gate at twilight. She had worked slavishly all day and was very tired, but she was loath80 to go into the house, where her trouble always seemed to weigh on her more heavily. The dusk, sweet night seemed to soothe39 her as it always did.
She leaned her head against the poplar by the gate. How long Spencer Morgan had been standing81 by her she did not know, but when she looked up he was there. In the dim light she could see how haggard and hollow-eyed he had grown. He had changed almost as much as herself.
The girl's first proud impulse was to turn coldly away and leave him. But some strange tumult82 in her heart kept her still. What had he come to say?
"I couldn't go away without seeing you once more, Estella, to say good-bye. Perhaps you won't speak to me. You must hate me. I deserve it."
He paused, but she said no word. She could not. After a space, he went wistfully on.
"I know you can never forgive me—no girl could. I've behaved like a fool. There isn't any excuse to be made for me. I don't think I could have been in my right senses, Estella. It all seems like some bad dream now. When I saw her that night, I came to my right mind, and I've been the most miserable man alive ever since. Not for her—but because I'd lost you. I can't bear to live here any longer, so I am going away. Will you say good-bye, Estella?"
Still she did not speak. There were a hundred things she wanted to say but she could not say them. Did he mean that he loved her still? If she were sure of that, she could forgive him anything, but her doubt rendered her mute.
The young man turned away despairingly from her rigid84 attitude. So be it—he had brought his fate on himself.
"Spencer!" He came swiftly back. "Oh, Spencer—do—you—do you love me still?"
He caught her hands in his.
"Love you—oh, Estella, yes, yes! I always have. That other wasn't love—it was just madness. When it passed I hated life because I'd lost you. I know you can't forgive me, but, oh—"
He broke down. Estella flung her arms around his neck and put her face up to his. She felt as if her heart must break with its great happiness. He understood her mute pardon. In their kiss the past was put aside. Estella's martyrdom was ended.
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1
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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pervading
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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riveted
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| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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quell
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| v.压制，平息，减轻 | |
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ransacked
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| v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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40
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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41
tighten
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| v.(使)变紧；(使)绷紧 | |
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42
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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fickle
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| adj.(爱情或友谊上)易变的，不坚定的 | |
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48
turquoise
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| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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53
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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perversely
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| adv. 倔强地 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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anguished
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| adj.极其痛苦的v.使极度痛苦(anguish的过去式) | |
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flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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deluding
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的现在分词 ) | |
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fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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babbling
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| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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rued
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| v.对…感到后悔( rue的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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76
avenged
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| v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 )；为…报复 | |
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rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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apathetically
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| adv.不露感情地；无动于衷地；不感兴趣地；冷淡地 | |
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embittered
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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loath
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| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
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81
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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82
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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83
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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84
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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85
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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