Riverbank State Park has a narrow black lane on the south side, densely populated with trees on one side and a gray fence on the other, leading to a large green lawn at the end of the lawn and the New York City Public Library on the other.

About two-thirds of the way there was a gap in the gray wall that led to a cul-de-sac into which the car could drive, and at the end of the gravel path, about forty or fifty feet, stood a small house of gray, brown and white, two stories long, as small and delicate as the mansion where Thumbelina lived in a fairy tale, and could only accommodate two or three people, and in front of the house was an open garden, and the surroundings were unusually quiet, and Madame Borough could hear the crackling of her own car tires as she ran over the stones.

Mrs. Borough parked the car behind a bush of roses, and when she got out of the car, she had to be careful not to break her stockings by the hard and sharp hooks of the roses - this house born in the late Victorian era had no swimming pool, no garage was a big problem, and the trouble was that most of the residents of the borough had a deep affection for this mysterious little house - and almost every child in the neighborhood had used this little two-story building that had been uninhabited for a long time as a haunted house, a base, a campground...... They grew up frolicking here, and then watched their children and even grandchildren crawl in and out of it...... Every time someone tries to renovate the house, it is met with opposition from the residents, so it is constantly being sold quickly - there are always people who fall in love with it at first sight, but they can never accept a 60-minute trek at least twice a day.

It was a good thing that the new neighbor was willing to keep the house as it was, but he should at least trim the flowers and trees around it, Madame Borough thought, and the wild chamomile on the courtyard path made a crisp cracking sound under her wedge shoes, and a sweet fragrance similar to an apple began to spread in the air, and a clump of lily of the valley not far away shook a few times, and a round head popped up—Madame Borough was taken aback, and immediately realized that it was a dog, a white English bull terrier, and then its companions, Their wicked little triangular eyes rolled upwards and stared at her without blinking, so focused that Mrs. Borough couldn't help but grab her handbag, she couldn't decide whether she should scream or not, the screaming could attract its owner, but it might provoke the dog to attack suddenly, God knows, there is no more neurotic dog in the world than the Bull Terrier.

The dogs followed Madame Borough to the bottom of the porch, and when Madame Borough walked up the steps, they walked up and down the porch, smacking their mouths from time to time, and the long shark-like kiss entwined Madame Borow's internal organs, but fortunately the doorbell rang twice, and the owner of the house opened the door.

A gentleman.

This was his first impression of Madame Borough, an elegant, handsome gentleman, and such men were rare nowadays—though a hundred years ago they were as numerous as carp crossing the river.

He was tall and thin, with the cuffs and neckline of his gray shirt well tied, a white waistcoat over his shirt, and trousers of the same color underneath; His eyes were dark gray-blue, like the sky between dusk and night, his eyebrows were black, pressed against his eyes, his hair was also black and not variegated at all, combed back from his forehead, smooth and obedient like a crow's back, his skin was fair, even a little transparent, like ash, and his lips were the most vivid, it was red and thin, as if he were curling his lips with a rose petal.

"Mrs. Boro?" He asked in a strange voice, and the end was raised upwards like a bird's wings.

"Well, it's me." Mrs. Borough hesitated slightly, smiled and stretched out her hand: "Mr. Claude Striff?" ”

"Yes." The gentleman shook the visitor's hand, his fingers cold, but very dry: "I'm waiting for you, come, please come in, please come in and talk." ”

He gently let go of Madame Boro's hand, led her sideways into the foyer, and then closed the door behind her.

***

"You may be seated...... What would you like to drink? Claude Stryff asked, "Grapefruit juice or coffee?" ”

"Yuzu juice if it's convenient." Mrs. Borough replied. Instead of sitting down immediately, she looked around, and was surprised to see that not much had changed, or more accurately, not only that the house had remained the way it had been—she remembered the last time she had visited, it was covered in sewage, dust, and cobwebs, and the mess of furniture was littered with rat and cat droppings, the stair treads and railings were rotten, and the curtains were hanging in the corners and full of holes.

Now it's like a fairy's magic wand, and everything is alive and shiny—herringbone hardwood floors, old-fashioned but soft and wide sofas, oak furniture, simple lines, no decoration on the railings of the stairs, an average of three on each grid, a beige carpet on the stairs, waxed smooth walnut on either side, gauzy curtains opened, sunlight shining through the window, shining on a small table of nanmu with a heavy-looking glass vase on it, It was the size of an adult's head, and it contained about half a jar of water and was filled with small lotus-colored roses.

The master went out through the side door of the drawing-room, and Mrs. Borough remembered that it was supposed to be the dining room and kitchen, and she settled down, and walked along the sofa to the fireplace, where was a glass candy jar common in an old grocery store, with a mixture of toffee in white shells and fruit candy in color packaging, and next to the sugar jar were several frames in which the man and the ...... were A woman, who should be his wife, and their children, whose appearance is inclined toward him, or her father, because his or her mother's appearance is really lackluster - she has blonde hair and an amiable smile, but a flat nose and small, uneven teeth.

But her husband should love her very much. Photographs of the hostess are not only available in this place, but also on the low table next to the sofa and on the wall.

Mrs. Borough felt that she had seen what she wanted, and she walked back to the couch, where she saw Mr. Claude Striff come in with a heavy silver tray containing a stack of small thin biscuits with scallion oil in addition to the bright yellow grapefruit juice.

The yuzu juice is filtered so that no residue sticks to the lips and teeth – a not-so-common attentive man. Mrs. Borough thought, and she took the paper and pen from the small bag she was carrying.

"I think you already know who I am and what I'm here for, Mr. Striff?"

"Of course." Mr. Claude Stryff sat upright on the sofa with his hands on his knees: "Executive member of the 19th Division of the National Association of Parents and Teachers." ”

"One," corrected Mrs. Borow, "now I would like to ask you some questions, and if you feel that your privacy is involved, you may not answer." ”

"Will it affect my application?"

"I can't promise not."

"Then you'd better hear it first." Mr. Stryff replied, "I'll be cautious." ”

……

"Are you married?"

"Yes."

"Your wife ...... now"

"She died of illness two years ago."

"I'm sorry." Mrs. Borough shook the pen in her hand—in fact, it was all there, but according to the established procedure, she had to ask herself: "Do you have any criminal record or mental illness?" ”

"Nope." Mr. Claude Stryff – that is, our Anthony. Dr. Hopkins replied without hesitation.

"How old is your child?"

"Seven years old." Dr. Hopkins moved his fingers: "Eight years old after September." ”

"Seven years old," repeated Mrs. Borow, "who will take care of him while you are at work?" ”

"Before that, my job was to take care of my children." Dr. Hopkins replied softly, "I have a small savings. ”

"So why are you applying for this job?" Mrs. Borough asked, "Elementary school teacher, Mr. Steve, with your education and experience you can get a higher salary, a higher rank, and a more ...... contacts Mature position. ”

"Isn't the answer?" The doctor smiled peacefully and serenely: "For the sake of my child, you see, Mrs. Borow, my child is going to elementary school, and I don't want to leave my child - I happen to be able to do so." ”

Mrs. Boro's eyes widened slightly.

Mr. Stryff was a good father, no doubt about it, but his actions made her want to sigh and shake her head—there were many fathers who wanted to be with their children, but not all of them would have prepared such a generous gift for their soon-to-be-elementary children.

As she said, Mr. Claude Striff was a brilliant man of great knowledge and experience, and he could have gotten a good job in a museum or university with all the glory and money of what he had in his head, but he came here to apply for a position as an elementary school teacher—he didn't have a college degree in elementary education, and certainly didn't pass the CBET and oral interviews, but he passed the national examination, which is the MSAT. A large exam of more than 6 hours, covering English reading, mathematics, science, history, economics, sports, art, stage performance, politics, etc. Half of them are multiple-choice questions and half are short-answer questions. Typical topics such as analyzing a sonnet by Shakespeare; discuss the flow of energy in photosynthesis; Develop a training plan for a football team; discuss the influence of chivalry on modern Western civilization; Write down the 10 things a stage art director should do backstage and why. The questions asked cover almost the entire spectrum of human knowledge, and are professional and profound – you can't even fill them with guesswork or gibberish.

Mr. Stryff not only passed, but also got a very good grade, which is why today's interview is here.

Madame Boro's pen wandered on the paper - she thought of the second reason for the visit.

"I want to know," she said, "your child has no previous record of kindergarten and primary school, I mean, he should have been in kindergarten for at least three years and one year in elementary school...... Is there any reason? ”

Mr. Stryff touched his knee lightly, "for physical reasons," he said, "his health is not good, he needs to recuperate, we have been abroad before, um, some places with fresh air and no pollution, and now his condition is ...... It's a lot better than before, but not very good," he thought, "and I wish he could get used to it first...... And also...... Something else. ”

"You've thought it through in great detail, and that's good." Mrs. Borough let out a breath and ticked the last space - the matter was almost certain.

After the paper and pen were in her bag, the conversation became more relaxed, and after two glasses of grapefruit juice, Madame Borough got up to take her leave.

The doctor opened the door for her, and the white bull terriers stood up at once, and Mrs. Borough instinctively took a step back: "A suggestion for you," she wrinkled, "It's best not to have cats and dogs when you have young children at home, and even if you do, it's better not to choose a bull terrier." This dog is very lively, violent, jealous, and can go crazy once it starts...... They can bite a bull to death in a matter of minutes. ”

"I think," Dr. Hopkins replied lightly, "that's not a problem—they're good dogs, aren't they, Sasha?" ”

Mrs. Borough followed Dr. Hopkins' line of sight, and she saw a child resembling a figure from a 16th-century portrait painter, standing in the hallway, with his back to the setting sun, which formed a golden circle around him.

"Hello, ma'am," said the child, "rest assured, they will not hurt you." ”

One by one, the bull terriers lay down quietly, and until Mrs. Borough drove away, they did not move or bark.

(To be continued)