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| 发布时间：2006-9-1 12:17:36 | 信息来源：本站原创 | 浏览： | |
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Travel Agent: Oh dear. Uhum
Miss Bush: And er, um, I'm hoping that I can persuade my two friends, who are also going to the conference, to stop over with me on the way back.
Travel Agent: Yes, that would be a good idea, yes.
Miss Bush: Mm, yes. By the way, one of them's in Cairo at the moment. Would it be possible for me to stop over there on my way to Sydney?
Travel Agent: Yes of course. There are plenty of flights to Cairo and, and then plenty more onwards from Cairo to Sydney. And then you can stay, there, in Cairo, for as long as you like.
Miss Bush: Oh that's great? Now, the thing is, I think I'd better go and persuade Mr. Adams that, you know, he'd like to stop with me in Cairo ...
Travel Agent: I see.
Miss Bush: ... go and discuss it with him and then come back to you in a day or two, if that's all right.
Travel Agent: Yes. Certainly. Of course, madam.
Miss Bush: Oh, thank you very much. OK. Goodbye.
Travel Agent: Thank you. Goodbye.
Gillian felt slightly uneasy as the porter unlocked the gates and waved her through. St Alfred's Hospital was not an ordinary mental institution. It was the most exclusive institution of its type in the country. You had to be not only mentally ill, but also extremely wealthy to be accepted as a patient. She parked her car outside the main entrance of the imposing eighteenth century building. She paused on the steps to look at the superb ornamental gardens and surrounding parkland. An old man in a white panama hat was watering the flowerbed beside the steps. He smiled at her.
Old man: Good afternoon, miss. A lovely day, isn't it?
Gillian: Yes, it certainly is.
Old man: Are you a new patient?
Gillian: Oh, I'm not a patient. I'm just here to do some research.
Old man: Will you be staying long?
Gillian: I really don't know. I wonder if you could direct me to Dr. Carmichael's office?
Old man: Certainly, miss. Just go through the main door, turn left, walk down to the end of the corridor, and it's the last door on the right.
Gillian: Thank you very much indeed.
Dr. Carmichael was waiting for her. He had been looking forward to meeting his new research assistant. He himself had always been interested in the special problems of long stay patients. Dr. Carmichael was very proud of his hospital and she was impressed by the relaxed and informal atmosphere. She spent the mornings interviewing patients, and the afternoons writing up the results of her research in the gardens. Some of the patients were withdrawn and depressed, some seemed almost normal. Only one or two had to be kept locked up. She found it hard to believe that all of them had been thought too dangerous to live in normal society. She often saw the old man in the panama hat. He spent most of his time working in the gardens, but he always stopped to speak to her. She found out that his name was Maurice Featherstone. He was a gentle and mild-mannered old fellow, with clear, blue, honest eyes, white hair and a pinkish complexion. He always looked pleased with life. She became particularly curious about him, but Dr. Carmichael had never asked her to interview him, and she wondered why. One night, at dinner, she asked about Mr. Featherstone. |
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