df.theedge-第45部分

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　　'Daffodil　Quentin；'　I　said；　peering　into　the　coffee　pot；　'is　upset　to　the　point　of　leaving　the　train。　She　told　the　Flokatis；　not　me。。　so　you　don't　know；　OK？　'
　　'Upset　about　what？。'　Nell　was　alarmed。
　　'She　wouldn't　tell　them。'
　　'Thanks；'　she　said　'I'll　see　what　I　can　do。'
　　Smoothing　ruffled　feelings；　keeping　smiles　in　place；　all　in　her　day's　work。　She　started　casually　on　her　way　through　the　dining　car　and　I　went　into　the　kitchen　to　plete　my　mission。　By　the　time　I　was　out　again　with　a　full　pot；　Nell　had　reached　Daffodil　and　was　standing　by　her；　listening。　Nell　appealed　to　the　Youngs　and　the　Unwins　at　adjacent　tables　for　help；　and　presently　Daffodil　was　out　of　sight　in　a　bunch　of　people　trying　to　persuade　her　to　change　her　mind。
　　I　had　to　wait　quite　a　while　to　hear　what　was　happening；　but　finally　the　whole　little　crowd；　Daffodil　among　them；　went　out　at　the　far　end　into　the　dome　car　and　Nell　returned　to　the　lobby；　relaying　the　news　to　me　in　snatches　as　I　paused　beside　her　on　to…and…fro　journeys　to　clear　away　the　breakfast　debris
　　'Cumber　and　Rose。。。'　The　Youngs；　I　thought。　'Cumber　and　Rose　and　also　the　Unwins　say　there　was　nothing　wrong　last　night；　they　all　had　a　splendid　time　in　the　Lorrimores'　car。　Daffodil　finally　said　she'd　had　a　disagreement　with　Mr　Filmer　after　the　party　had　broken　up。　She　said　she　had　hardly　slept　and　wasn't　sure　what　to　do；　but　there　was　no　fun　left　in　taking　Laurentide　Ice　to　Vancouver；　and　she　couldn't　face　the　rest　of　the　journey。　The　Youngs　have　persuaded　her　to　go　up　into　the　dome　with　them　to　think　things　over；　but　I　honestly　think　she's　serious。　She's　very　upset。'
　　'Mm。'　I　put　the　last　of　the　debris　into　the　kitchen　and　excused　myself　apologetically　from　washing　the　dishes。
　　'How　can　Mr　Filmer　have　upset　Daffodil　so　much？'　Nell　exclaimed。　'She's　obviously　been　enjoying　herself；　and　he's　such　a　nice　man　They　were　getting　on　together　so　well；　everyone　thought。'　She　paused。　'Mr　Unwin　believes　it's　a　lovers'　quarrel。'
　　'Does　he？'　I　pondered。　'I　think　I'll　make　a　recce　up　the　train。　See　if　anything　else　is　happening　'
　　Maybe　Daffodil　had　made　advances　and　been　too　roughly　repulsed；　I　thought。　And　maybe　not。
　　'Mr　Filmer　hasn't　been　in　to　breakfast；'　Nell　said。　'It's　all　very　worrying。　And　last　night　everyone　was　so　happy。'
　　If　Daffodil's　leaving　the　train　was　the　worst　thing　that　happened；　I　thought；　we　would　have　got　off　lightly。　I　left　Nell　and　set　off　up　the　corridor；　ing　pretty　soon　to　Filmer's　bedroom　door；　which　was　uninformatively　closed。
　　I　checked　with　the　sleeping…car　attendant　further　along　the　car　who　was　in　the　midst　of　folding　up　the　bunks　for　the　day　and　unfolding　the　armchairs。
　　'Mr　Filmer？　He's　in　his　room　still；　as　far　as　I　know。　He　was　a　bit　short　with　me；　told　me　to　hurry　up。　And　he's　not　usually　like　that。　He　was　eating　something；　and　he　had　a　thermos　too。　But　then　we　do　get　passengers　like　that　sometimes。　Can't　get　through　the　night　without　raiding　the　ice　box；　that　sort　of　thing。'
　　I　nodded　nonmittally　and　went　onwards；　but　I　thought　that　if　Filmer　had　brought　food　and　a　thermos　on　board　for　breakfast；　he　must　have　known　in　Winnipeg　that　he　would　need　them；　which　meant　that　last　night's　quarrel　had　been　planned　and　hadn't　been　caused　by　Daffodil。
　　George　Burley　was　in　his　office；　writing　his　records。
　　'Morning；'　he　said；　beaming。
　　'How's　the　train？'
　　'The　forward　sleeping…car　attendants　are　threatening　to　resign；　eh？；　over　the　vomit　in　the　bathrooms。'
　　'Ugh。'　
　　He　chuckled。　'I　brought　extra　disinfectants　aboard　in　Winnipeg；'　he　said　'Train…sickness　gets　them；　you　know。'
　　I　shook　my　head　at　his　indulgence　and　pressed　forward；　looking　as　always　for　gaunt…face　but　chiefly　aiming　for　the　horses。
　　Leslie　Brown；　hollow…eyed　from　lack　of　sleep；　regarded　me　with　only　half　the　usual　belligerence。　'e　in；'　she　said；　stepping　back　from　her　door。　'To　be　honest；　I　could　do　with　some　help。'
　　As　I'd　just　passed　several　green…looking　grooms　being　sorry　for　themselves　in　their　section；　I　supposed　at　first　she　meant　simply　physical　help　in　tending　the　horses；　but　it　appeared　that　she　didn't。
　　'Something's　going　on　that　I　don't　understand；'　she　said；　locking　the　entrance　door　behind　me　and　leading　the　way　to　the　central　space　where　her　chair　stood　beside　the　innocent　water　tank。
　　'What　sort　of　thing？'　I　asked；　following　her。
　　She　mutely　pointed　further　forward　up　the　car；　and　I　walked　on　until　I　came　to　the　final　space　between　the　stalls；　and　there；　in　a　sort　of　nest　made　of　hay　bales；　one　of　the　grooms　half　lay；　half　sat；　curled　like　an　embryo　and　making　small　moaning　noises。
　　I　went　back　to　Leslie　Brown。　'What's　the　matter　with　him？'　I　said。
　　'I　don't　know。　He　was　drunk　last　night；　they　all　were；　but　this　doesn't　look　like　an　ordinary　hangover。'
　　'Did　you　ask　the　others？'
　　She　signed。　'They　don't　remember　much　about　last　night。　They　don't　care　what's　the　matter　with　him。'
　　'Which　horse　is　he　with？'
　　'Laurentide　Ice。'
　　I'd　have　been　surprised；　I　supposed；　if　she'd　said　anything　else。
　　'That's　the　horse；　isn't　it；'　I　asked；　'whose　trainer　sent　separate　numbered　individual　bags　of　food；　because　another　of　Mrs　Quentin's　horses　had　died　because　of　eating　the　wrong　things？'
　　She　nodded。　'Yes。'
　　'And　this　boy　was　with　the　horse　all　the　time　in　the　barns　at　Winnipeg？'
　　'Yes；　of　course。　They　exercised　the　horses　and　looked　after　them；　and　they　all　came　back　to　the　train　in　horse　vans　yesterday　after　the　races；　while　the　train　was　still　in　the　siding。　I　came　with　them。　There's　nothing　wrong　with　any　of　the　horses；　I　assure　you。'
　　'That's　good；'　I　said。　'Laurentide　Ice　as　well？'
　　'See　for　yourself。'
　　I　walked　round　looking　at　each　horse　but　in　truth　they　all　appeared　healthy　and　unaffected；　even　Upper　Gumtree　and　Flokati　who　would　have　been　excused　seeming　thin　and　fatigued　after　their　exertions。　Most　of　them　had　their　heads　out　over　the　stall　doors；　sure　sign　of　interest：　a　few　were　a　pace　or　two　back；　semi…dreaming。　Laurentide　Ice　watched　me　with　a　bright　glacial　eye；　in　far　better　mental　health　than　his　attendant。
　　I　returned　to　Leslie　Brown　and　asked　her　the　groom's　name。
　　'Lenny；'　she　said。　She　consulted　a　list。　'Leonard　Higgs。'
　　'How　old　is　he？'
　　'About　twenty；　I　should　think。'
　　'What's　he　like；　usually？'
　　'Like　the　others。　Full　of　foul　language　and　dirty　jokes。'　She　looked　disapproving。　'Every　other　word　beginning　with　f。'
　　'When　did　all　this　moaning　and　retreating　start？'
　　'He　was　lying　there　all　night。　The　other　boys　said　it　was　his　turn　to　be　in　here；　but　it　wasn't　really；　only　he　was　paralytic；　and　they　just　dumped　him　in　the　hay　and　went　back　to　the　party。　He　started　the　moaning　about　an　hour　ago　and　he　won't　answer　me　at　all。'　She　was　disturbed　by　him；　and　worried；　I　thought；　that　his　behaviour　might　be　held　to　be　her　responsibility。
　　Rather　to　her　surprise；　I　took　off　my　yellow　waistcoat　and　striped　tie　and　gave　them　to　her　to　hold。　If　she　would　sit　down　for　a　while；　I　suggested；　I　would　try　to　sort　Lenny　out。
　　Meekly　for　her；　she　agreed。　I　left　her　perching　with　my　badges　of　office　across　her　trousered　knees　and　returned　to　the　total　collapse　in　the　hay。
　　'Lenny；'　I　said；　'give　it　a　rest。'
　　He　went　on　with　the　moaning；　oblivious。
　　I　sat　down　beside　him　on　one　of　the　hay　bales　and　put　my　mouth　near　his　one　visible　ear。
　　'Shut　up；'　I　said；　very　loudly。
　　He　jumped　and　he　gasped　and　after　a　short　pause　he　went　back　to　moaning；　though　artificially　now；　it　seemed　to　me。
　　'If　you're　sick　from　beer；'　I　said　forcefully；　'it's　your　own　bloody　fault；　but　I'll　get　you　something　to　make　you　feel　better。'
　　He　curled　into　a　still　tighter　ball；　tucking　his　head　down　into　his　arms　as　if　shielding　it　from　a　blow。　It　was　a　movement　impossible　to　misconstrue：　what　he　felt；　besides　alcohol　sickness；　was　fear。
　　Fear　followed　Julius　Apollo　Filmer　like　a　spoor；　the　residue　of　his　passing。　Lenny；　frightened　out　of　his　wits；　was　a　familiar　sight　indeed。
　　I　undid　the　top　buttons　of　my　shirt；　loosening　the　collar；　and　rolled　up　my　cuffs；　aiming　for　informality；　and　I　slid　down　until　I　was　sit