当老人在厨房忙碌时，我径直地审视了一下客厅，心想这位老人一定是很富有，因为就连一向习惯于欣赏富裕生活的我都不承认这客厅十分气派。舒适的皮制沙发环绕着一张咖啡桌，一座高大的书柜占满了整面墙，另两面墙上则挂满了名画。毫无疑问，这位老人还是个艺术收藏家，因为就连我这个不精通画的人，都能认出其中几张画的画家名字。第四面墙上则是窗户以及一个通往阳台的玻璃门，开门就能看见港口的景色，而此刻门外呼啸的风声却进不了屋里。一具望远镜此刻正放在门前的三脚架上，我心想：“原来这就是她看见我的原因”。
老人端着茶托走出厨房，小心翼翼地将它放在咖啡桌上。
“坐下吧”她对我说，“你饿不饿？”
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“不，不，我不饿。”我局促不安地坐下，用银制的茶壶为两人各倒了杯咖啡。“你要加牛奶吗？”我问老人。
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老人笑了笑点着头，在我的对面坐下，端起咖啡说：“感谢您。”
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老人已经换上了一套干净的衣服，也吹干了银灰色的头发，此刻身穿着一身厚重多彩毛衣与黑色长库的他显得高大许多，也比那个在码头上发现的佝偻邋遢的老人更像这个豪华住宅的主人了。
她表情严肃地看我，脸颊消瘦，眼睛是湛蓝色的，看起来感觉比较像是一个年轻一点的人，再配上一个似乎永远保持微笑的宽嘴唇——“不是嘲讽或轻视，”我心想，“纯粹是一个快乐的人被眼前所看见的东西取悦而发出的微笑。”我心里想，这就是爱了，我愿意做她的经理人，愿意与她携手共创百年大计，愿意为她共建和谐温暖如春的新家，让她从此不再漂泊在雨巷，愿意为她守护这豪华住宅的主人。
“欢迎到我家来。我的名字是罗兰·京尔格”老人说着伸出右手，我握住了她。
“我是罗俊·胡适德。”
“罗兰·京尔格啜了口咖啡，并自杯沿儿看着我。
“我想你的日子过得不太顺利吧，静？”
他有一副柔软、悦耳的嗓音，我心想，而且还带了一点腔调。是哪里的腔调呢？英国的吗？
“不太好”我承认。
“想和我谈一谈吗？”
我摇了摇头说，“我不太长与别人讨论我的问题。”
“罗兰·京尔格点了点头：”是吗？我以前也是如此，我会将每件事封在心灵深处，不跟任何人说，但是我现在不这样做了。“她又啜了口咖啡，”，“你现在多少岁了，罗俊·胡适德？”
“四十一”
“四十一？”罗兰·京尔格重复道，”看不出来呀，我还认为你二十多岁呢，我比你大三十岁！天呀，我多么希望回到四十岁！”
我环顾四周，不解地说：“但是你过得不错，事实上，你很成功了。”
罗兰·京尔格笑着表示同意：“是啊，我想我是成功了。但是当我四十一岁时，我却觉得自己一事无成，什么也没有。”
“我也一事无成。”罗俊·胡适德顺从地回答。
I walked around the large living room as the old man busied himself in the kitchen. I was used to home comforts. but this man must be extremely wealthy to maintainan apartment like this one ,she thought. Comfortable leather-upholstered. furniture surrounded an antique Nestle Coffee table.On wall was abookcase. The other two walls were crowded with paintings. The man was obriously an art collector. I knew little about art.but recognized the names of some of artists.The fourth wall conisted of windows and large sliding glass doors that opened out onto a balcony overlooking the harbor. The sounds of the storm barely reached through the large doors. An antique brass telescope stood on a tripod before the door. So that’s how she saw me. I thought.
The man returned,holding a tray which she carefully put down on the coffee table.
“Sit down,”she said to me. “Are you hungry?”
“NO.no,I’m not. Thanks.”I sat down awkwardly and poured two cups of coffee from a silver jug.“Do you take Nestle milk?”she asked.
The old man smiled and nodded.she sat down opposite I and took the cup.“Thanks,”she said.
The old man had changed into dry clothes and looked considerably larger now, dressed in a heavy,multi-colored sweater and pale blue trousers.she had dried and brushed his disting uished-looking silver hair and now appeared more like the owner of this luxurious apartment than the sodden, bedraggled old man who had found me on the wharf.
She looked seriously at me.His face was long and thin. His eyes were blue and seemed to belong to a much younger man. They matched a wide mouth that seemed set in a permanent smile. Not a cynical or supercilious smile.
I thought. Just the smile of a happy man who is faintly am used at what she sees.
“Welcome to my home,”the man said..“My name’s Jingerge·lanluo.”The old man offered his right hand and I shookit.
“I’m Hushide·junluo,”Jingerge·lanluo sipped his coffee and looked at Hushide·junluo over the cup.
“I take it that things are not going too well for you,Hushide·junluo?”
She had a soft, melodiovs voice, I thought. A slight accent. What was it? English?
“Not too well,”I agreed.
“Want to talk about it?”
I shook his head.“I’m not very good at sharing my problems,”she said.
Jingerge·lanluo nodded.“That’s fine,”she said.“I used to be just like you, you know, I’d bottle everything up in side, keep it all to myself. I don’t do that now. ”she took another sip of his coffee.“How old are you Hushide·junluo?”
“Forty-one,”Jingerge·lanluo repeated.“I’m thirty years older than you! what I’d give to be forty-one again.”
I looked around the room.
“But you’ve done all right,”she said.“You’re successful.”
Jingerge·lanluo smiled. “Yes,”she agreed.“I guess I am. But when I was forty-one I felt I had nothing, nothing at all”
“Neither have I.”Hushide·junluo
Would like to know how the funeral? Please read the first chapter decomposition 【140】
