张白桦译作《爱，从来不会晚》（双语）

HerHeart’sDesire...



Her Heart’s DesireIsabel played more brilliantly than ever that afternoon. As the last sobbing notes ofthe violin died away there was a thunder of applause from the audience. Sergehugged her ecstatically as she came down from the stage and there were tears inthe music teacher’s eyes as he looked down at her.

“Guess what?” he exclaimed. “Andreas Korda wants to meet you.”

“Th-theAndreas Korda?” stammered Isabel.“The publisher?”

“Yes. And I don’t need to tell you what that could do for your career. With hisbacking you could have your heart’s desire and train   with the finest teacher in Europe. He wants you to have dinner with  him tonight －he’ll send a car for you.”

Isabel felt as if she were floating above the pavement that evening  when she saw thewhite stretch limousine parked outside her      mother’s modest home.

“You’d better be careful,” warned her mother grimly. “He’s probably only after onething.”

Yet from the moment she stepped into the foyer of the luxury hotel,  Isabel knewthat couldn’t possibly be true. There must have been 25 men scattered aroundthat vast space, but she knew immediately which  one was Andreas, even though she had never seen a photo of him. He was tall, with a lean, athletic physique,dark hair and a chiselled  profile. But it was his eyes that really captivatedher. They were  dark and disturbingly penetrating as if he could see right into her soul. He strode through the crowd, took her hand and gazed down at hergravely. And there was nothing seductive in his expression.

“You’re so young,” he murmured. “Even younger that I thought.”

His comment infuriated her. Hadn’t he notice the sophistication of  her creambrocade suit and the French plait which had taken her 20  minutes to do? Not to mention the apricot lipstick and the blusher high on her cheeks, when shedidn’t even wear make-up normally? “I’m 18!” she protested.

His lips twitched. “And I’m 32. But I admit that you play the  violin like a maturewoman. A woman who has known of grief and passion,  anger and joy. How is this possible?”

He escorted her into the restaurant and over a candlelit dinner, he  teased out the details of her life. The early talent, the adored father who was her first teacher, the tragedy when his tractor had rolled, crushing him to death (her voice faltered at that point and her  hand shook as she reached blindly for the water carafe). Only after a long pause was she able to continue, explaining howher mother had  sold the farm and they had moved to the city. But Mum hadn’t understood that music was Isabel’s life, so Isabel herself had found the address of the conservatorium and had gone there to ask for their   best violin teacher when she was 10 years old.

“And was how you met Serge?”

She nodded.

“How did you pay him?”

“I didn’t. I told him that if he taught me properly, when I was   grown up, I would win lots of contests and pay him back then.”

And reassmothered an explosion of laughter. “The great Serge Balakirev ordered about bya 10-year-old!” he marvelled. “But you were right to have such faith in your talent.

“You’re extraordinary － you know that, don’t you?”

Music seemed to soar inside her, as Andreas looked searchingly at   her. She shook her head modestly. “Not half as extraordinary as you are. Was it really difficult coming to Australiawith nothing and   then make such a fortune?”

His eyes took on a faraway look as he told her about his childhood inHungary, his dislike of the government, his escape to the West and  his choice of Australiaas the land ofopportunity. In only 12 years he had made himself a millionaire many timesover.

“But money isn’t everything,” he finished in a brooding tone. “It hasn’t much to do with happiness.”

“Are you unhappy?” she ventured.

“Not tonight,” he said, half to himself. “But sometimes…oh, never mind. Would you like to dance?”

It was after midnight when they whirled around the dance floor for  the last timeand Isabel knew that she was deeply, hopelessly in   love. But Andreas was strictly-practical.

“All right, this is our agreement,” he announced in limousine on  the way home. “Youstudy here in Melbournefor another year with Serge and we’ll meet once a month to discuss yourprogress. After that, provided all goes well, I’ll pay for you to spend fouryears studying in Europe.”

“I can never thank you enough,” said Isabel fervently.

“Yes,you can. Just give me your heart and soul for this project.”

Those words echoed in Isabel’s ears many times in the months that followed. Just giveme your heart and soul…did Andreas realize that   they had a double meaning? Didhe guess how hopeless she loved him?  No. She didn’t think so. The miserable truth was that he thought  of her as hardly more than a school girl － until a month before  she was due to leave for Europe.

There had been a party at Andreas’ country house and Isabel was one of the last toleave. She sat patiently in her old bomb, waiting till everyone else was out ofher way before she turned the key in the ignition. The car gave a sluggish groan. She tried twice more with even  less result and then discovered the cause of the problem.

“Damn!I left my lights on. Now the battery’s flat.”

Thunder rumbled as she climbed out of the car and bright traceries of lightning lit upthe two-storey house and the huge oak trees that surrounded it. She was halfway across the field when the wind roared around her and a sudden torrent ofrain hammered down. Soaked and gasping, she started to run. It was a relief toreach the front veranda, but  her energetic pushing on the bell produced noresponse and all the  lights downstairs were out.

“Andreas!”she shouted.

The noise of the storm drowned her voice and there was no reply. “I wonder if theback door is unlocked?” she thought aloud.

She went down the side path, feeling the wet shrubs catching at her  legs. There wasa sudden fierce explosion of barking, a blur of movement and the sound ofsnapping jaws, then a huge Doberman knocked her flying. Isabel screamed and went on screaming, while the monster growled on top of her. Suddenly, Andreas’svoice cut through the      darkness.

“Lily, what’s going on here? Get off, get off!” shaking with cold and shock, Isabel scrambled to her feet and flung herself into Andreas’ arms.

“You stupid dog!” shouted Andreas. “She’s a friend. Friend!”

Lily’sears drooped, her head hung, she whined apologetically.

“I － hate － dogs!” wailed Isabel through chattering teeth.

“I’mminding her for someone else. Sweetheart, you’re soaked. Come inside and let me get you dried off.”

The fire in the sitting room was banked down for the night. In tis orange glow Isabel saw that Andreas was only wearing a dressing gown.  He brought her ahuge, fluffy white towel and a glass of brandy. She took a sip of the brandyand shuddered as he wrapped the towel around her. The stood looking at eachother in the firelight and there was a strange expression in Andreas’ eyes, asif he were seeing her for the very first time. Suddenly, he cupped her face inhis hands and kissed her － a long, devouring kiss that made her whole body throb with flame.

“I love you,” he said wonderingly. “I love you, Isabel.”

The next morning she woke up in his vast, double bed to find him gazing down ather, “There’s something I haven’t told you,” he said somberly. “I’m married.”

She felt as if he had punched her in the stomach.

“How could you?” she cried, leaping out of bed and holding the    sheet around her likea shield. “How could you do this to me?”

He came after her and caught her by the arm.

“It’snot the way you think. We’ve been separated for the last  seven years. It’s justthat we’ve never bothered to get divorced.”

“Why not?”

“Because Helen didn’t care and it suited me not to be pursued by women who were only after my money. But it’s different now. I want to marry you.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’ll contact her and tell her I want a divorce. I promise.”

“WHATDO YOU MEAN － Andreas refuses to see me? What do you mean, Serge?” cried Isabel.

“That’sall he would say. He’ll give any money you want, but he won’t see you again.”

Isabel stared at him in dismay. It was a month since the night with  Andreas and in allthat time he had never telephone her or returned her calls. And tomorrow she was due to sail for Europe. A sick  feeling of dread settled like a lump of ice in her stomach. What if her  mother had beenright about him?

“No!”she said through clenched teeth. “I don’t’ believe you! I’m going to see him myself.”

She had never been in his office building before, but anger carried  her through themarble foyer, up 12 floors in the lift, past the   snooty receptionist and into his mahogany paneled office. He was talking on the phone and his face went white when he saw her.

“I’ll call you later, Helen,” he said hastily and hung up.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” demanded Isabel.

A muscle twitched at the corner of his mouth and he would not meet  her eyes.“Helen and I are patching up our marriage,” he muttered. “This is the end between us, Isabel.”

She couldn’t believe it, wouldn’t believe it, but one look at this face convincedher it was true.

Her hand went protectively to her belly and without any conscious   intention, she blurredout the truth, “I’m pregnant, Andreas!”

He half rose from his seat, but the look in his eyes told her it was still useless. There was shock, concern, pity, but also a dogged  refusal to budge. Blinded by tears, Isabel fled from the room. She was still sobbing when she climbed into her car and drove away.

Perhaps that was why she didn’t see the truck come rumbling out of a side street. There was a squeal of tyres, a jolting crash. And then  darkness.

It was still dark when she awoke, but she could hear the murmur of  voices. “My baby?” she asked.

“You’restill pregnant, more’s the pity.” That was her mother.   Then Serge’s voicechimed in, deep, throaty, with a Russian accent. “Don’t worry, Isabel. Your hands weren’t injured. You’ll still be able to play. And once the bandages comeoff, your eyesight will be  fine.”

“You’ll have months in hospital, though,” said her mother,  sniffing. “And you’ll haveto have the baby adopted once it’s born.    You’ll never manage otherwise.”

That had been nearly five year ago. Five years of heartache and  struggle. Is shehadn’t been so weak from the accident and so upset by  Andreas’ betrayal, shewould never have agreed. But in the end she had given in and Serge had arranged the adoption through a private  agency. She wept the day they took her baby daughter away but,  after that, she flung herself obsessively into her career.After all, that was her heart’s desire, wasn’t it?

And now here she was in Melbourne, after four years’study with the  finest musicians in Europe. The newspaper said her homecoming  concert was “a triumphant masterpiece”, but Isabel felt the triumph  was like ashes in her mouth. “I wish…” she saidbitterly. “Oh,  what’s the use?”

Moodily,she began to flick through the rest of the newspaper. Then an item leapt out ather. The headline said, “Korda caught by candid camera.” Below this was a photoof Andreas beside a little girl, who was blowing out candles on a cake.

Isabel caught her breath as she read the text below. “Reclusive publisher AndreasKorda made a rare public appearance on April 8 at McDonald’s to celebrate thebirthday of his adopted daughter Sarah…”

Isabel flung down the paper and grabbed the phone.

“Serge?”she demanded fiercely. “Who adopted my baby?”

THEHOUSE WAS JUST THE WAY she remembered it, except that there was a tricycle onthe lawn. Isabel’s stomach was churning as she rang the  doorbell. “I must see her. I must see her,” she though. There was the sound of footsteps and then the door swung open. “Andreas!”

She was shocked by the changes in him. His temples were threaded with silver and there were lines around his eyes.

“Isabel…what are you doing here?”

“I want to see my daughter. I know I’ve got legal right, but…”

“You know it’s never been a question of legal rights. It was always a matter of theheart and nothing would make me happier than for you  to meet her. She needs a mother.”

“What about Helen?” flared Isabel.

“Helen died three months ago.”

She stared him in shock and, as their eyes met, a current of old awareness passedbetween them. Andreas gripped her shoulder. “It’s time you had an explanation.”

In a daze she followed him into the sitting room where he had once kissed her infront of the fire so long ago.

“What kind of an explanation?” she demanded.

“I didn’t betray you, the way you thought,” he said at last.

“What do you mean?”

“After we made love, I went to Helen’s apartment and told her I   wanted a divorce, butshe flew into a rage. We are still quarrelling  as I left and she ran after meto scream abuse, but she lost her   footing and fell down the stairs. I didn’tmanage to catch her and  she broke her back and was paralysed. I felt it was my fault and I vowed that I’d stay and take care of her. Which I did until she    died.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” breathed Isabel.

“Ididn’t think I’d have the strength to stay with Helen, if you  knew how much I still love you.”

“And my baby? Why did you adopt her?”

“Because she was mine, too, and I wanted her. But also because she  would be such are minder of you.”

His words curt, but there was no mistaking the depth of his feelings. Isabel felt an unwilling stir of pity.

“Why didn’t you contact me when Helen died?”

“I thought you’d be happier without me. Serge told me the only    thing you cared about was your career.”

“The only thing Serge cares about is my career! I don’t take orders from him. Youshould have asked me.”

And Andreas suddenly stepped closer to her and there was a new light in his eyes. For the second time in her life, he cupped her face in his hands, “Isabel,” he said hoarsely, “is it too late for us?”

She looked up at him and her heart beat faster. “No, Andreas,” she whispered. “It’s never too late for love.”

爱，从来不会晚

张白桦 译

伊莎贝尔那天下午的琴拉得愈发出色，当小提琴奏出的最后几节啜泣的音符慢慢消失以后，观众席上爆发出雷鸣般的掌声。她走下舞台，她的音乐教师瑟奇欣喜若狂地拥抱着她，眼中泪光闪闪，大声说道，“你猜怎么着，安德烈亚斯·科达要见你。”

“那……那个安德烈亚斯·科达？”伊莎贝尔结结巴巴地问，“那个出版商？”

“正是，我不需要告诉你这对你的事业会有什么好处吧？有了他的支持，你就能如愿以偿，去欧洲接受最好老师的训练。他说今晚要与你共进晚餐，他会派车来接你。”

当晚，她回家时，看到一辆白色加长轿车停在妈妈简朴的房子前，觉得轻快得快从人行道上飞起来了，但妈妈却严肃地警告她，“你最好小心，他的目的可能只有一个。”

然而，从她踏上豪华酒店门厅的那一刻起，她就明白了妈妈的担心是多余的。宽敞的大厅里大概有二十五个男人，但她却立刻猜出了他是哪一个，虽然她连他的照片都没有见过。他身材颀长，体型瘦削，身体结实得像运动员，黒黒的头发，脸型线条清晰得像雕塑，而真正让她意乱神迷的，还是他那双黑黑的，似乎能洞悉人心灵的眼睛。他从人群中大步走出，握着她的手，凝视着她，神情肃穆，毫无淫邪。“你这么年轻，”他喃喃道，“比我想象的还要年轻。”

他的话激怒了她，莫非他没有注意到她精心挑选的奶油色锦缎套装，她花二十分钟打的法式褶，杏色唇膏和颧骨上的腮红吗？而她平时可是素面朝天的啊，于是她反驳道，“我已经十八岁了。”

他的嘴角扬了扬，“可我三十二岁了，不过，我必须承认，你的琴拉得像一个成熟的妇人，像个经历过悲欢离合的女人，这怎么可能呢？”他陪他进了餐厅，在烛光晚宴上，他哄着她讲述了她的生活经历：幼年时期表现出的天分，对她宠爱有加的父亲成了她是的第一任老师，父亲被翻倒的拖拉机轧死的惨状。讲到这里，她的声音颤抖了，手下意识地向玻璃水瓶伸去。停顿了片刻，她才接着解释说：母亲卖掉了农场，她们搬进了城里。可是，妈妈不理解她视音乐为生命的心愿，于是，年仅十岁的她自己找到音乐学院，请求拜那里最好的音乐老师为师。

“你就是这么认识了瑟奇？”

她点了点头。

“你怎么付他学费呢？”

“我不付学费，我告诉他：如果他能把我教好，我长大以后就会在许多音乐会上获奖，那时候就可以还他钱了。”

安德烈亚斯强忍住，才没有哈哈大笑，“伟大的瑟奇竟然听命于一个十岁的小女孩！”他惊叹，“可是，你有理由对自己自信……你知道自己不同凡响，不是吗？”说着，他用探寻的目光望着她，她的心中响起了乐声，她谦逊地摇了摇头，“还不及你的一半呢，你赤手空拳来到澳大利亚，却发了这么一大笔财，一定不容易吧？”

他给她讲起了自己的过去，他的眼睛似乎在茫然地望着远方，他谈起在匈牙利度过的童年，他对政府的厌恶，他谈到了他怎样逃到了西部，又怎样最终选择了澳大利亚作为寻找机遇的新天地，仅仅十二年时间，他就拥有了近千万的收入。最后，他语气超重地补充道，“不过，拥有金钱并不意味着拥有一切，金钱与幸福没多大关系。”

“你不幸福吗？”她大着胆子问道。

“起码今晚很幸福，”他半是自言自语半是对她说道，“不过有时候……哦，没什么。请你跳个舞好吗？”

午夜已过，他们还在舞池里跳最后一曲，伊莎贝尔知道自己已无可救药地深陷爱河，而安德烈亚斯却非常实际，在开车送她回家的路上，他宣布，“好，你我之间的协议就是这样：你在这里，在墨尔本跟瑟奇再学一年，我俩每月见一面来研究你的学习进展情况。一年以后，假如一切进展顺利的话，我来付你赴欧四年的学习费用。”

“我对你感激不尽。”伊莎贝尔深情款款地说。

“没问题，你一定能够做到的，只要你为我全心全意地投入。”

在接下来的几个月里，这句话一直在伊莎贝尔的耳边回响：只要你对我全心全意……安德烈亚斯说这话的时候，是否意识到这句话的双关意义？他是否已经看出她已无可救药地爱上了他？不，不是的，事实令人伤感：他只把她当成了一个女学生而已，至少在她即将赴欧的前一个月时还是这样。

安德烈亚斯在乡间别墅举办了一个聚会，伊莎贝尔也在应邀之列。她也是最晚离开的客人之一，她在汽车里坐着，满腹的心事，看着大家都已离去，路上已经没有车时，才发动汽车，不料汽车慢悠悠地却发出了吱吱嘎嘎的声音。她又发动了两次，结果一次比一次糟糕，最后她终于想到了故障的起因，“该死的！我忘了关灯，现在电池耗光了。”

她从汽车里钻出来的时候，头上雷声阵阵，闪电刺眼的电光照亮了安德烈亚斯的二层小楼和周围的橡树。她穿过田地，走到一半的时候，一场骤雨倾盆而下，她立刻成了落汤鸡。她气喘吁吁地奔到安德烈亚斯的阳台前，才松了口气。可是，不论她怎么使劲按门铃，里面都没有反应，楼下的灯都已经熄灭，她只好大声喊，“安德烈亚斯！”暴风雨淹没了它的声音，没有应答，她嘟囔着，“后门是不是没锁？”

她沿着旁边的小路向后门跑，湿漉漉的灌木刮着她的腿，突然响起一声狗吠，接着，一条体型庞大的德国短毛猎狗扑了上来，用爪子把她扑倒，在她头上不停地狂吠。伊莎贝尔尖叫起来，这时，安德烈亚斯的声音划破了夜空，“莉丽，怎么回事？走开！走开!”伊莎贝尔又惊又怕又冷，从地上爬起来扑进安德烈亚斯的怀里。“你这条笨狗！她是我们的朋友，朋友！”安德烈亚斯呵斥道，莉丽垂着头耷拉着耳朵，呜呜地哀鸣着表示歉意。

“我不喜欢狗！”伊莎贝尔边哭边从牙缝里挤出这句话来。

“是我帮别人代养的，宝贝，你都湿透了，进来，我给你烤干。”

客厅壁炉的火闪着橙黄色的光，在明灭可睹的火光里，伊莎贝尔看到安德烈亚斯只穿了件睡衣。他给她拿来一块大大的毛绒绒的白浴巾和一杯白兰地。她喝了口酒，他为她披上了浴巾，她的身体颤动了一下，他们就这样站着，在火光的映照下凝视着对方，安德烈亚斯的表情有些异样，好像是第一次见到她似的，突然，他双手捧起她的脸，给了她一个长长的深深的吻，这一吻使得她像着了火似地颤栗起来。他喃喃地说，“伊莎贝尔，我爱你，我爱你。”

次日清晨，她醒来以后，意识到自己躺在他那张宽大的双人床上，他正俯身凝视着她，面色忧郁，“有件事我还没告诉你，我已经结婚了。”

她顿时觉得五雷轰顶一般，“怎么会这样？”她哭喊着从床上跳起来，用床单紧紧地裹住身体，像盾牌似的。

他追了上来，抓住她的胳膊，“事实不像你想象的那样，我和她已经分居七年，就差办离婚手续了。”

“那为什么不办？”

“因为海伦她不在乎，我觉得也挺好，这样就不会被那些冲着我的钱来的女人穷追不舍了。但现在不同了，我要娶你。”

“那你打算怎么办？”

“我要跟她联系，告诉她我要离婚，我保证。”

“你说什么，安德烈亚斯拒绝见我？瑟奇，你什么意思？”伊莎贝尔喊道。

“他说你要多少钱都可以，但他不会见你。”

伊莎贝尔惊慌失措地盯着瑟奇，自从那一夜到今天已经过去了一个月，在此期间，安德烈亚斯从来没有给她打过电话，她打过去也不接，明天她就要坐船赴欧洲，一种可怕的预感像一块冰似地压在心头：是不是母亲不幸而言中了？“不，”她从牙缝里挤出一句话，“我不相信你的话，我要面见他。”

她以前从来没有去过他的办公楼，所以不熟悉路径，然而，在愤怒的驱使下，她穿过大理石铺就的前厅，坐电梯上了十二层，冲破傲慢势利的接待员的阻拦，径直闯进他那间用红木隔开的办公室。他正在打电话，看见她来了，顿时变得脸色煞白，慌里慌张地对着话筒说了声，“我完了再给你挂，海伦。”就挂断了电话。

“你到底在干什么？”伊莎贝尔追问道。

他嘴角的肌肉抽搐着，不敢正视她的眼睛，低声说，“我和海伦在重修旧好，你我之间的一切都结束了，伊莎贝尔。”

她不敢相信，也不愿相信这一切是真的，可是，只要看一眼他脸上的表情，就能明白他没有说谎，她下意识地用手护住肚子，脱口道出了真情，“安德烈亚斯，我怀孕了！”

他从座位上欠起身，却复又坐了下来，眼神里有震惊、关怀、怜爱，也有顽固的坚守，看来这个消息也起不了什么作用，伊莎贝尔的泪水夺眶而出，模糊了双眼，她飞也似地冲了出去，一路抽泣着钻进了汽车。也许就是因为止不住的泪水，她没能看清从侧面开来的那辆卡车，只听到轮胎的轧轹声和猛地刹车声，接着眼前一黑就失去了知觉。

她醒来时，眼前仍是一片黑暗，能听到几个人在窃窃私语，她问，“我的孩子怎么样了？”

“胎儿保住了，这更可怜。”是母亲的声音，瑟奇那低沉的、带有浓重俄语口音的声音插嘴道，“伊莎贝尔，别担心，你的手完好无损，你还能拉琴，等绷带取下来，你的视力也会恢复。”母亲抽泣着说，“不过，你还得住几个月的院，孩子一生下来就得让别人抱养，没有别的办法，只能这样。”

这一切发生在大约五年以前，五年的心碎与挣扎，当时如果不是因为她的身体太虚弱，不是因为安德烈亚斯的负心而伤心欲绝的话，她是绝对不会同意把孩子送给别人抚养的。在瑟奇的力劝下，她最后终于答应通过一家私人代办处办理收养事宜。他们把小女儿带走那天，她泣不成声。此后，她疯了似地全身心投入到事业中去，事业毕竟是是她的心愿。

今天，师从欧洲顶尖音乐家，经过四年的研修，她回到了墨尔本，报纸上称她的归乡音乐会是“一个成功的杰作”，而她却如鲠在喉，满腹辛酸地说，“这有什么用？我的心愿是……”她郁郁寡欢地翻看着报纸上的其他内容，突然，一个标题——《窥视科达》吸引了她的视线，标题下面是一幅照片，一个小女孩在吹蛋糕上的四根蜡烛，安德烈亚斯坐在她身旁，照片下面的说明文字更是让她倒吸了一口冷气：“稀罕——隐居多时的出版商安德烈亚斯在麦当劳为养女莎拉庆生时露面……”

伊莎贝尔把报纸一扔，一把抓起电话，“是瑟奇吗？谁收养了我的女儿？”她逼问道。

安德烈亚斯的别墅与她记忆中的一模一样，唯一不同的是草坪上多了一辆三轮脚踏车。伊莎贝尔按着门铃，心中柔肠寸断：我一定要见到她，我一定要见到她，她心中反复默念着。一阵脚步声由远而近，门开了，“安德烈亚斯！”他的太阳穴上银发飘拂，眼角皱纹密布，她为他的变化而震惊。

“伊莎贝尔，你来这里干什么？”

“我想见我的女儿，我知道依照法律我没有这种权利，可是……。”

“不存在合法权的问题，这永远是爱和心愿的问题，你能见她是我最开心的事。”

“那海伦呢？”伊莎贝尔有些忿怒。

“她三个月前死了。”

伊莎贝尔吃惊地盯着他，他们的目光相遇了，一股相知的暖流霎时在两人之间接通，安德烈亚斯抓住了她的肩，“是向你解释真相的时候了。”她迷迷糊糊地跟他进了客厅，多年以前，就在这里的壁炉前，他曾经吻过她。

“解释什么？”她问道。

“我并没有像你想象的那样辜负了你。”他终于开了口。

“你是什么意思？”

“那一夜之后，我去海伦的公寓告诉她我要离婚，她勃然大怒。我想离开，可她追上来尖声叫骂着，脚下一滑，从楼梯上摔了下来，我没有伸手抓她，结果她的背摔瘫痪了。我觉得其咎在我，发誓要留下来照顾她，就这样，一直伺候她到那一天。

“你为什么不早告诉我？”伊莎贝尔气喘吁吁地问。

“让你知道我还是那样爱你，我害怕会失去与海伦在一起的勇气。”

“那我的孩子呢？你为什么收养她？”

“因为她也是我的孩子，我想要她，因为看到她会让我想起你的种种，这非常珍贵。”

他的话不多，却句句是真情，使得伊莎贝尔顿生怜爱。“海伦死后你为什么不跟我联系呢？”

“瑟奇告诉我你只关注事业，所以，我猜没有我你会更快乐。”

“瑟奇才是最关注我事业的人！ 我并不听命于他，你应该问我本人。”

安德烈亚斯突然向她跨进了一步，眼中闪着新生的光彩，他第二次双手捧起她的脸，声音暗哑地问，“伊莎贝尔，你我现在重新开始是不是太晚了？”

她仰起头来看着他，心跳不由得加快了，她轻声道，“不晚，安德烈亚斯，爱，从来不会晚。”

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