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December 10, 1882, Washington, D.C., United States

Sunday, fine

The clock had just passed four o'clock, and it was already getting dark. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 Info Now Henry is not at home, he went out after lunch, went to see the editor of the publishing house, because Henry is also writing a novel, he needs some professional opinions, and he is thinking of publishing it under a pseudonym, the book is called "Esther", and he says that the heroine of the book, Esther Dudley, is based on me, and this novel is dedicated to me.

This way, I have plenty of time to keep a diary. The table was facing a large window, and I could catch the sound of Henry's car. The dry version of the box was on the floor at my feet, and if he was driving home, I would put the diary in the box and go downstairs to meet him at once.

If he asked, I would tell him that I had spent the whole afternoon looking at the latest photos and comparing them.

This is indeed a lie.

But the "weekend club" has its own rules. Even I don't believe that I'm one of them.

I remembered what George said to me that day:

He suddenly asked, "Are you still using Alche's collodion wet plate, or are you already using glass dry plate?"

I was fascinated by everything in this photography museum, and I came back to my senses for a long time. I thought for a moment and replied, "Even though I used the dry version, I couldn't get rid of the wet version." ”

"Don't you think the dry version of silver bromide has better sensitivity?"

"That's right, but I like to apply the liquid to the glass, and I always feel that there are more layers of color difference in the light. ”

George covered his mouth and smiled: "My grandmother didn't make it clear, where are you a beginner who needs me to teach?"

My face turned slightly red and I said, "I'm telling the truth about what I'm saying to Liz, and I really want someone to instruct me in my darkroom techniques." ”

"I heard that you always dispense your own medicines?"

I nodded.

"Have you heard of Eastman Dry Edition?"

"It's a new company, I've tried their dry version, and it works well, and the price is relatively cheap in its class. ”

"Let me show you my camera!" George walked over to a table again, and gently lifted the white cloth, on which lay a square box, smaller than anything I'd seen before.

"It's so small!" I had to sigh.

"Interesting, Eastman's boss, also named George. Actually, I've known him for a long time, and we're all crazy photography enthusiasts!" he thought about it with his chin propped up, "It's George, it's like he's calling his own name, it's weird, I'll call him Eastman!"

He picked up the black box and said, "It's the Eastman camera, you see it can be made so small without the huge glass version of the camera obscura." ”

I really like this black box, it's so much smaller than my camera.

I asked, "It doesn't use glass dry version, so what does it use?"

"You're asking about top-tier trade secrets, my dear. Seeing that I was about to pout in protest, he continued, "Eastman and I call it 'film.'" It is a photographic paper negative coated with a photosensitive material. ”

"Film?"

He nodded and said with pride: "I can tell you that the box contains six meters of film, and it can take a hundred 6mm photos!"

I looked at the little box in amazement,

"Actually, Eastman and I weren't happy with the way it looked, and we've been trying to improve the case for a while, and we're still working on it......," he said, turning abruptly to me, "and we'd like to have someone try it out before we get it out there, and we don't know if Clover wants to." ”

"Me?" couldn't believe how lucky they were. But I said almost without thinking, "If I could, I would!" but I didn't know if I could do it. ”

"Don't worry, I'll show you how to use it. He opened the leather buckle on the side of the black box, and the "leather cavity" with the lens appeared.

Next, George explained to me in detail how to operate this Eastman camera.

"Try it yourself?" he asked me.

When I took the camera, I was excited and nervous. It's small and really weighs a lot less than my own camera. I look at it -- this little thing is going to change the future of photography. It's amazing, I'm so excited that I can't stop talking. It's great!

I looked through the lens – the scene seemed to add a touch of mystery to my eyes, which was a familiar feeling – and I could even see a world where anyone could buy a camera and take pictures anywhere.

Fiddling around for a while, I wanted to ask George about the aperture. When I looked up, I was the only one left in the room.

I had just taken a few steps outside when I suddenly heard movement from George and William, and the two of them lowered their voices and began to speak quietly.

"Where's the clover?" asked William, "did you tell her?"

"Not yet...... I haven't had time to say it yet. George pointed inside, "She's obsessed with the camera, and no one can bother her right now." ”。

I was standing behind that wooden wall, and I didn't know why my heart was beating faster. What else does he have to say to me?

"Ahh

I thought to myself: George had really taken over the mantle of Mr. Agassis and was running the Saturday Club.

George asked, "Since you're the evaluator, tell me if she solved the puzzle?"

William complained: "I think you are biased at all, and the questions given to her are too simple!"

"Answer my question!"

George had his back to me, and I couldn't see his expression, but his voice became muffled.

William immediately put away his smile and said seriously: "She guessed at once that the person she wanted to see was 'Mr. Agassi,' and she almost guessed the 'riddle' hidden in that poem." You say, how could it have occurred to her that 'Great Professor' meant the Shore-Horse Peninsula and that 'Broad Shoulders' meant the location of Parker's Cottage? ”

"Honestly, Clover is the smartest and most perceptive woman I've ever met, and she has a vibrant soul," George said. ”

You really don't know what she said about me - basically a cripple, plus a person of unsound mind. ”

Despite his restraint, George laughed in his throat and said, "I forgot, she also has a good sense of humor." ”

William tilted his head and looked in my direction. I don't know why, I subconsciously ducked back. It wasn't until William walked up to George, and the two stood side by side with their backs to me, that I dared to sneak into them.

"Actually, I think it's a shame that she's a nerd like Adams. It is said that the women of their family have too much problem in picking men. Otherwise, there would not have been Madame Margaret Fuller's famous remark: 'Perfume is sprinkled in the desert wind.' ’”

I was slightly stunned. Liz told me this, and it was Mrs. Fuller who said it?

"This time, I agree with you. George said.

William showed a strange expression and asked softly, "Hearing you say that, are you obsessed with other people?"

I scolded in my heart: This damn William dares to talk such nonsense behind his back. George is a full nineteen years younger than me, so I don't know what you're thinking.

George didn't say a word. Didn't admit it, didn't deny it.

Such a reaction surprised William, who scratched his hair and did not know what to say.

Finally, George let out a long sigh and said, "I'm still wondering how to tell her what my grandfather asked me before he died!"

With that, they both looked at the wooden wall in front of them, their eyes fixed on the silhouette of a woman in an oval frame.

"Let's get it straight. William said, "She is the daughter of an angel! You have said that fate cannot be escaped." ”

Listening to them, I also looked at the silhouette paintings hanging on the wooden wall.

In an instant, another vision appeared in front of me. Just like what I saw in the hall downstairs.

Only this time, I felt like I wasn't watching from the sidelines, but being in the middle of it. I had the feeling that I was walking backwards, and my hands were scratching in the air a few times.

Suddenly, a hand was grabbed.

I felt holding someone's hand, and it was so warm.

I looked up, Mother!, I cried out to myself.

Dressed in a beautiful dress, she dragged me down the hall to the meeting hall of the Saturday Club. Not the one downstairs, but a smaller room, a salon.

It turns out that I've been here before.

The room was packed with people, most of them in black dresses. Someone made their way through the crowd with delicious snacks and colorful cocktails. There was laughter everywhere, and the happy atmosphere made it difficult for me to control myself. A pair of big hands reached out and took me from my mother's hand, and he made me step on his shoes and dance with me.

I looked up. The owner of these big hands, I recognize, is Mr. Agassi. It turned out that I had met him a long time ago, long before the entrance ceremony of the girls' school.

My brain became so confused that I could barely breathe. The people in the room are talking, next. In my ear, someone shouted out my name, "Shamrock, Shamrock, are you alright?" and I felt confused; I slowly came back to my senses and realized that it was George calling my name.

"What's wrong with you?" he said, "you can't hear what I just called you." ”

"Nothing. I said. Then I quickly looked at the camera in my hand, and the black box was already in William's hand at this time, and he also looked at me with a nervous expression.

"I'm sorry. Nothing, I'm fine. I am fine. ”

"You're shaking. George said, "Are you cold?" I'll help you sit down first. ”

I thought back to the hallucination I had just seen. It was so clear and distinct, I was absolutely struck by it! Once again, I could feel everything. It felt real, almost more real than the real world I saw when I opened my eyes after it was gone.

A question flashed through my mind, and I immediately said, "Joe, what are you going to tell me, is it about my mother?"

George and William looked at each other. "Yes!"

"Tell me. "My tone has changed.

He said, "Don't worry, calm down, let's sit down, I'll tell you slowly." ”

I sat on the couch and it took me a long time to recover. I thanked them and said I was sorry. I was ashamed of my gaffe.

George sat down on the couch across from me and asked straight to the point, "Shamrock, do you know 'transcendentalism'?"

I nodded, and said, "Of course, the earliest members of the Saturday Club were members of the Transcendentals, and the most important of them was Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson!"

"Did you know that your mother was a transcendental poetess, and that she was one of the first members of the Saturday Club?"

I shook my head and said, "I was only five years old when she died, and my father rarely talked about her to me, and I have very little memory of her. "I thought to myself: But I just remembered something. They were like lost fragments of my memory, and I tried to stick them in my head and mend them.

William interjected at this time, "So, you don't know, she is called an 'angel' by the members of the Transcendentals?"

"I don't know......" I shook my head like a rattle.

"When my grandfather was seriously ill, he asked me to see him," George said. It was he who told me about your mother. He said there was something strange about her death. Your father must have known something, but he hid the truth. ”

"Nonsense!" I stood up excitedly, "My father told me that my mother died of tuberculosis. ”

"Do you doubt what my grandfather said, and do you think he would say it for no reason, and that it might well ruin a person's reputation!" asked George.

I hesitated. Yes, Mr. Agassis would never do that.

"He also told me to go to you, and his exact words - 'Only Shamrock can unlock the secret of her mother's death!'

Hearing this, my body felt as if it had passed through an electric current. I looked at George dumbfoundedly, not knowing what to say.

At this point in the diary, my hand holding the pen kept shaking.

I remembered it all. From that day on, I struggled to find the hollows of those memories, trying to find any small details that could trigger memories, which left me racking my brain and physically and mentally exhausted. The most recent time was when my mother collapsed in a pool of blood, but her memory became blurry again. After that, even the slightest remnant of the memory quickly faded away.

I opened the window and saw that there were already snowflakes in the sky, and when I looked at Lafayette Square, it was really beautiful.

I put down my pen, picked up the magic camera George had given me, and took a picture of the snow out the window. (To be continued.) )