Harry Potter Morning Light
Chapter 2269 Poseidon's Winter Banquet (11)
When most women go shopping, men actually don't want to go, even little boys. But the boy's father can at least use the excuse of cutting his hair and shaving his beard to go to the barber shop for a while, either lying on the barber stool to sleep, or sitting in the waiting area, quietly reading the newspaper for a while, The little boy was held by his mother and "accompanied" her for a walk.
"Why don't you find your sister!" the little boy complained to his mother, who tried him on a girl's dress, and she told him.
"Because you don't have a sister."
Goulding's description of the life of ordinary London citizens is new to the upper class, but some people just smile politely. The scene reminds Georgiana of Rose's mother in the Titanic and the upstart gold diggers from the United States. The scene where Jasmine was together, and then she remembered the last time she went to the vegetable market and ate oysters with Severus, and her mood was complicated and difficult to understand.
She took a sip of her drink and was about to walk away when she saw Stanley, looking at her.
"Hi." She greeted him with a smile.
Stanley came over. "You're missing the good part."
"What's the highlight?" She took a step back.
"We're talking about forming an African trade association and setting up an expedition to explore the Congo River," Stanley said.
"Congo?"
"Suppose this is the Congo River." Stanley drew a stroke in the void, as if drawing a snake. "The two banks of the river belong to the Portuguese River France."
"French has a colony in the Congo?" asked Georgiana in surprise.
"It was the Congo River that was first discovered by the Portuguese. When they came to the mouth of the Congo River, they found that the salinity in the seawater had become lower. They knew that the river would not be small, but they only went around the beach before returning home. It didn't go inland, and the French came next, and they not only established churches at the mouth of the Congo River, but also built military installations along the Congo River."
She suddenly understood why Napoleon suddenly drank hot cocoa.
"Where's Chiara?"
"I'll take her back." The female boxer walked over with a sneer. "Forget about listening to gossip."
"You told me..."
"I'm just telling you the facts. They did stay together for a long time." Goulding interrupted Georgiana. "I'm not the kind of person who tells stories."
Georgiana was expressionless.
"Chiara is going to have a fiancé soon, and they're both artists," Goulding said.
"Is he exhibiting this time?" Georgiana asked.
"No, he's good at miniatures, look." Goulding opened a locket, and there was an eye in it. "This is painted by Cosway."
"Cosway is Chiara's fiancé, and he works for the Prince of Wales." Stanley said suddenly, "Every time the Crown Prince falls in love with a beautiful woman, he will give a miniature portrait of himself, and after they break up, they return the portrait to the Prince of Wales." , and he gave these portraits to new women."
"Unbelievable," Georgiana murmured.
"The prince has some financial problems. He can't always ask Cosway to order portraits, but he made it easier for Chiara's father to open a hotel in London. This is their main source of income." Goulding put the locket Locked up "Some people also say that Chiara and the prince are having an affair, but we all know that is not true."
Georgiana was a little puzzled.
"Although some people questioned her identity as a female painter, no one said that Chiara's works were exhibited at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts through other means. She is a genius." Stanley said.
"The reason why she participated in this exhibition is because I heard that Turner also participated." Goulding said, "They are the same age, but Turner is more famous than her."
"Oh, I've heard that name," Georgiana recalled, but couldn't remember where.
Both Stanley and Goulding looked at her strangely.
"What?"
"The painter who painted you in the gazebo today is Turner." Goulding said, "he stayed in the Louvre for a while."
Georgiana thought of the blond young man she thought was a student.
"Chiara likes to paint fantasy stories, and Turner likes to paint natural disasters, sunlight, and atmosphere," Stanley said. "Bonaparte wants to buy his painting of you, but he won't sell it."
Her eyes widened.
"My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold." Goulding suddenly sang, "You really have a set."
Georgiana boasted and frowned.
"Maybe he could be traded for a painting by Claude Lorrain, Turner's favorite artist," said Stanley.
Claude Lorrain was a court painter during the period of Louis XIV in France. He was as lucky as Rubens, and he was recognized while alive. There are many murals painted by him on the walls of Versailles, including the Louvre. more.
Maybe Turner is a genius, but is one of his sketches worth exchanging for a work by Claude Lorrain?
"I'm going to ask," Georgiana whispered.
"Don't ruin a genius," Goulding said. "You know he can do it."
Georgiana looked into Goulding's eyes, she looked very serious.
At this time, someone called Goulding away, leaving only Georgiana and Stanley.
"Where were we talking?" Stanley said with mock ease.
"Speaking of the Congo." She took a sip of her wine.
"If I go to the Congo, who goes to Birmingham to talk about buying steam engines?" Stanley said.
Georgiana stared at him. "You're going to the Congo?"
Stanley looked around, then lowered his voice and said to her, "By recognizing Portugal's colony in the Congo, Britain won the opportunity to trade in Brazil. Europeans are used to relying on the length of the coastline to consider the value of Africa, but they don't care about the vast interior." Lu knew nothing, and the Portuguese wanted to explore through expeditions to determine whether the Congo could be connected with their colonies on the east and west coasts of Africa."
"Just because of that?" Georgiana asked.
Stanley looked around, "I heard that people from the American Temperance Association are here today?"
"I've only heard them mentioned in interviews," Georgiana said.
"That African trade association I was talking about was against slavery, and if we admit them, they admit us," Stanley said.
"It doesn't matter if you don't recognize each other, they are all unofficial organizations anyway."
"Newspaper, reporter, do you want to be a saint who takes care of orphans and widows, or a witch who condones alcoholism and violence?"
"Unbelievable," she muttered.
"Bonaparte's power has not yet reached the United States, and he can't control what the American newspapers write."
She has nothing to say.
"You can't see it now, but Napoleon will drag you to hell," Stanley whispered. "He's a devil."
"I want to buy that painting by Chiara." She smiled and said "About Scylla, you know, a real witch wouldn't poison Scylla if she really wanted that fisherman If he loves you, she will use a love potion on him."
Stanley was a little taken aback.
"I know some people won't believe it, but it's not because it doesn't exist, maybe it's because he doesn't deserve a woman to use a potion on him." Georgiana smiled and turned away.
When she got to a place where no one was around, she stopped maintaining her posture and squatted on the ground leaning on the pillar as if she had lost all her strength.
She used to laugh at others, but she didn't know that she just flew out of a cage and was replaced by a bird in a cage as big as a greenhouse. She seemed to be free, but she was actually still in the greenhouse.
At this time she unconsciously sang a song, the medieval ditty she had heard just now, in Neapolitan, Greek, and Spanish, and the name of the song was "The Three Mermaids".
What the sea tells you, keep it on your chest till your soul returns to the harbor
Waves, waves, come one after another, without hesitation, like my endless pain
As wide as the sea, as wide as the beach, my longing is so strong,
So strong that my frivolous joy was irresistible.
The bottom of the North Sea is full of sand and gravel, which are formed by the continuous beating of hundreds of millions of years of waves.
A father holds up a whole world for his daughter, or rather the whole world, those heroes never stop for Calypso.
She wiped away her tears and stood up again.
At this time, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a person standing among the plants, and when she was about to take a closer look, the person had disappeared.
Although she couldn't see it clearly, she thought it might be the boy in uniform she had seen in the aisle before.
"Don't be like your father." She said into the air, then turned and left.
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