Chapter 15 13

【clue】 I slept on the floor of my new house under a pile of blankets and pillows, with Christian snoring next to me.It's almost noon.As soon as I got up, I went to the hallway to find my backpack, took out the green tin box, opened the lid, and felt for the cardboard envelope and the hemp rope binding it. Corinne was setting breakfast in the dining room and drinking coffee while doing things, so her movements were slow. It was just the two of us who got up.She said: I have a terrible headache, how are you? fine.I drink a lot of water before bed. I should too.how late did you stay upyou never went to the lake

I found something, wait a minute, I'll show you. I'll go down the hall and get the tin box.Corinne looked at me with wide eyes, opened a bundle of letters, flipped through the envelopes, and shook her head. Where did you find it? upstairs.Right in the box in the bedroom.Corinne pulled out one of the letters. It is written in English.She murmured: "I never knew there was such a thing out there.i have to tell my uncle She read the letter. The person who wrote the letter is your relative? I think so. She shook her head and said: Sorry, you can't take it away, at least not yet.I have to show my family first.My dad might want to see it too.

Do you mind if I make a copy? Of course I don't mind, but there's no photocopier here. It doesn't matter, I copied it by hand. Everyone was bathed in the sunshine by the lake, and I was the only one who was copying letters on the table in the dining room, copying slowly one by one.It's not as easy as I thought it would be. Some words are illegible, and sometimes whole lines can only be skipped; some content is so interesting that I can't help but stop writing. □□□ I took the short cut, as it was very dark, and I thought the sparse brush to the east would provide some protection.After advancing two hundred yards, the enemy fired the first shot, followed by the second.Someone shouted: Sniper!Someone dragged Corporal Locke into the cover below the low hill, and I saw him sprawled out in a dirty shallow puddle with his jacket turned up, trying to stop the bleeding, but to no avail.He was shot in the lung.

Locke wanted to talk.He seemed to have something to say to us, but we told him not to speak and begged him not to move, because he vomited blood when he opened his mouth.Until now, everyone is still wondering what he really wanted to say.That was several days ago, and everyone was still guessing, as if he knew some great secret and hated not to reveal it. I put down the letter, went out, and watched the wind blow through the forest.Christian passed by holding a large cooler. How are you? Um. Why is his eyes a little dull, weird. the Hangover. He smiled and said: Everyone is the same. It took me another hour to finish copying the letter.Thirty full pages, it made my wrist hurt.I put the letter on the table and took a picture, and the two pieces of letter paper were photographed into one.I carefully adjusted the exposure time, and took something to support the letter paper, and took repeated shots with different settings to ensure a clear image.The letters themselves may not be useful evidence, but who knows.Corinne told me to leave the tin box on the table for her dad to see.

I went back to the old house and tried to put everything back together, including the mess downstairs.It took a while to put the boxes and tools back in their original places, but I'm really not sure how things were originally arranged, so I can only guess.I set aside a path to the stairs and went upstairs one last time for a final inspection. In the upstairs room, Ashley's note was stuck on the bedside table, and I forgot to put it back in the magazine.I stood with the card for a while, looked around, and said softly to myself: This is a bad idea. I put the card in the notebook and close the notebook.

We cleaned the house, loaded our bags and leftovers on board, and prepared to cross the lake.Christian and some girl have started drinking beer again.The garbage bag containing the empty cans fell into the water, and I went into the water to fish them out, and everyone laughed and shouted.I went back to the house to get my backpack and change into a pair of dry pants. While changing my trousers, I found something in my pocket. It was a thin piece of yellow paper, the receipt I found last night.Under the sun, those handwritten words became easier to understand. □□□ muas Canvas, Panel and Paint︱Frame

28 rue Pigalle ∮ silver white Napoli Yellow yellow ochre natural ocher Cinnabar green ocher Alizarin red Venetian red ultramarine Prussian blue ivory black Cutter Drying Oil There are two other colors that I can't see clearly, one is a certain kind of green and the other is a certain kind of blue.The receipt is dated December 11, 1916, and the orderer is Mr. Brogner, 18 Ponceifer Street.The name looks familiar.I took the folder out of my bag and dug out the photocopied files at the Tate. □□□ March 19, 1923 Dear Mr Deflo: I have received your letter of the nineteenth and have dealt with it immediately.Mr. Brogner was so disappointed that he was willing to double his bid for the painting, but in the end he had to understand the situation, asked for the larger one, and desperately wanted to buy the one he hadn't seen in person, though he said he wouldn't First bid, but I'm very skeptical.Did Mrs. Grafton say whether or not the picture would ever be put on the market?

I muttered to myself: what you can really be sure of is the most important fact. I ran my hands through my hair, recalling all the details in sequence.In the winter of 1916, Eleanor was living on this island in the lake near Lake Sound, and Immorgen was almost certainly here, too, for I found letters to her in the old house.At the same time, in December 1916, an art supply supplier in Paris took an order from a certain Mr. Brogner, here is the receipt.In 1917, my grandmother Charlotte was born here.In March 1919, five months after the end of the war, Eleanor asked the London gallery staff to destroy a painting that had recently been shipped from Sweden even though Brogner wanted to buy the exercise work and another larger painting, she still insisted on destroying that study.In the same month, Eleanor had a painting titled "Study for a Nude" listed in the inventory of the Deflo Brothers gallery, but it was removed.

She's probably done a million pictures here, of woods, of the sky, of this red room, or whatever, and I'm probably just wasting my time chasing this thread.But why destroy it?How bad can that painting be? Why has it been shipped to London and has to be destroyed immediately. But even so, the painting may not necessarily be Yin Mozhen. I look at the receipt again, Brogner bought art supplies for Eleanor in Paris in 1916, so there must be some relationship between them.Perhaps she had painted for him; perhaps he was a collector of her work and would want the study after two years; At that time, Sweden could not buy such good art supplies.What happened to the large-scale oil painting?Did Brogner get that painting?If so, what kind of painting would it be?

If Brogner had been a serious collector, then the work might still be there, his collection might still be in Paris, and he might have had his own gallery, with records.His address was on the receipt, and I knew what time to check, so it wasn't hard to get started.But Pitcher would probably say it's a waste of time, because even if the painting is found, even if the person in the painting is Yin Mozhen, even if it can be seen that she is pregnant Someone called me outside. Tristan?If you don't want to swim back, you'd better get out. I gathered my things and ran down the hill to catch up with Corinne.Everyone else was on board.Christian tied the skiff to the aluminum boat with nylon ropes, started the motor hanging outside the boat, the engine belched black smoke, and the boat slid forward.

The Swedes passed on canned beer.Corinne sat down beside me. Driving you to Stockholm? That's great. Kou Lin smiled and said: It's better than rowing.Are those letters copied down? Um. What do you write in the letter? I reached out and stroked the cold lake, shaking my head. It's hard to say, there are too many things in the letter, you have to read it yourself. Is it a good letter? It's a good letter. As the boat approached the shore, Christian turned off the motor.It's only noon, but it's still a long way to drive to Stockholm, and hopefully I'll catch a plane to Paris tonight.