gossip girl 9 英文- 第5部分

　Low…class　mega…slut　townie？　

？Alicensed　massage　therapist；　silly！　I　can？t　believe　you　didn？t　know　that。　Anyway；　I　talked　to　
these　people　at　this　spa　in　Sag　Harbor　and　they　might　let　me　do　an　actual　internship。　You　know；　
practicing　on　real　people？　I？m　so　psyched。？　She　leaned　in　across　the　table　and　began　massaging　
Nate？s　forearm；　using　both　of　her　hands　and　applying　a　surprising　amount　of　pressure；　her　long　
manicured　fingertips　scraping　his　skin　like　ice　scrapers　on　a　car　windshield。　？See？？　she　
asked。　？Doesn？t　that　feel　good？？　

It　did　feel　good；　sort　of；　but　Nate　was　much　more　interested　in　the　view：　Tawny　was　leaning　so　
far　forward　that　her　impressive　pear…shaped　boobs　were　totally　visible。　

？So；　um；　you？re　still　in　high　school；　then？？　Nate　mumbled；　remembering　that　it　was　his　turn　to　
say　something。　？I　just　graduated。？　Saying　that　felt　good。　It　made　him　feel　manly。

　Oh　boy。　

？I？m　graduating　next　year；？　she　explained；　moving　her　hands　from　his　forearm　to　his　chest；　
which　was　tight　from　hammering。　？I　can？t　wait。　I？m　so　sick　of　high　school。　I　figure　I？ll　get　my　
certification；　you　know；　get　a　house　in　the　Bays。　If　you？re　good；　you　can　make　such　awesome　cash　
from　the　summer　crowd　you　don？t　have　to　work　the　rest　of　the　year。　That？s　totally　my　plan：　make　
a　good　living　mooching　off　summer　people。？　She　laughed。　

？Cool。？　Nate　was　having　trouble　concentrating　on　what　Tawny　was　saying　because　her　boobs　
were　practically　in　his　lap。　He？d　tuned　her　out　so　pletely　she　sounded　kind　of　like　the　parents　
in　a　Peanuts　cartoon。Wah…wah…wah…wah…wah。　Her　lips　looked　so　full　and　peach…colored　and　shiny；　
and　she　smelled　like　vanilla。　

He　pitched　his　head　forward　and　lightly　kissed　her；　touching　her　cheeks　gently。　Her　mouth　tasted　
like　Diet　Coke　and　some　sort　of　artificial　but　totally　delicious　fruit。　

After　a　few　moments　she　giggled　and　pulled　away。　？We　can　do　that　all　night；　but　I　want　to　know　
about　your　plans　too；？　she　went　on；　sitting　back　down　and　taking　his　hand。　？You　can　tell　me　all　
about　it　over　dinner。？　

？Sure；　yeah。？　Nate　stood　and　patted　his　pocket　to　make　sure　he？d　remembered　to　bring　his　wallet。　
He　wondered　if　the　Oyster　Shack　accepted　platinum　American　Express。　He　licked　his　lips；　which　
tasted　sort　of　slick　and　fruity　now　themselves　and　would　probably　make　his　beer　taste　like　pi？a　
colada。　？Let？s　get　something　to　eat　and　I？ll　tell　you　my　whole　master　plan。？　


Nate　Archibald　has　a　master　plan？　

？Sounds　impressive。？　Tawny　giggled　again　as　she　stood　and　gathered　up　her　cigarettes；　her　
lighter；　and　her　gold　pleather　XOXO　clutch　with　buckles　all　over　it。　

？Well；　I？m　starting　Yale　in　a　couple　of　months？？　

？Yale？　Really？　Damn；　that？s　a　good　school。？　She　linked　her　arm　with　Nate？s。　？And　expensive。？　

Then　again；　education　is　like　a　Birkin　bag？how　can　you　put　a　price　on　such　things？　

b　is　for　betrothed　

Blair　Waldorf　crossed　her　legs　and　leaned　back　in　the　deep…brown　high…backed　leather　chair。　
Lifting　the　white　Spode　porcelain　teacup　to　her　lips；　she　took　a　dainty　sip　of　lukewarm　Earl　Grey　
tea　and　smiled　at　Jemima；　the　salesgirl　who　was　hovering　over　her。　？Miss　Waldorf；？　Jemima　
tittered；　handing　Blair　a　small　navy　blue　leather　portfolio。　？Whenever　you？re　ready。？　

Blair　opened　the　book；　inside　were　her　black　American　Express　card；　a　receipt；　and　a　pen；　which　
she　grabbed；　signing　the　dotted　line　without　glancing　at　it。　

？Lovely。　Now；　I？ve　had　your　parcels　packed　up　and　they？ll　be　off　to　Claridge？s　shortly。　Can　I　do　
anything　else　for　you？　Fetch　a　taxi；　perhaps？？　

？No；　thank　you。？　She　smiled　gracefully。　？I　think　I？ll　walk。？　

She　had　been　sitting　fortably　in　a　private　back　room　in　a　new　boutique　called　Kid　in　West　
London　for　an　hour；　keeping　Jemima；　a　pretty　brunette　with　terrible　teeth；　busy　fetching　every　
style　of　boot　they　stocked。　As　she　tried　on　the　twenty…plus　pairs　of　boots；　she？d　had　two　cups　of　
tea；　glanced　at　the　new　issue　of　FrenchVogue　；　and　made　a　telephone　call　to　Lord　Marcus。　
Voicemail。　She　wondered　if　he　was　working；　or　if　he　was　off　with　Camilla　somewhere；　buying　
new　croquet　mallets；　or　。。。

　Orwhat？　

Blair　didn？t　give　up　easily　and　she　was　determined　not　to　let　yesterday　get　her　down。　Maybe　
Marcus　and　Camilla　needed　to　get　their　cousinly　bonding　thing　out　of　the　way。　They？d　
undoubtedly　soon　tire　of　each　other？s　pany。　Besides；　Marcus　was　likely　to　forget　
Camilla？sname　when　he　caught　a　glimpse　of　Blair　in　her　new　knee…high　black　python…skin　boots　
and　her　new　black　lace　Gossard　corset　and　matching　boy　shorts；　which　she　planned　on　modeling　
for　him　that　very　night　in　between　courses　during　the　champagne…and…chocolate　room　service　


dinner　she？d　planned。　

Tucking　the　still…warm　credit　card　back　into　her　new　Smythson　billfold；　Blair　dropped　her　wallet　
inside　the　limited…edition　hand…painted　Goyard　bag　she？d　picked　up　the　day　before　and　walked　out　
of　the　store　and　onto　the　quiet　stretch　of　Press　Street。　She？d　been　to　London　only　once　with　her　
family；　when　she　was　twelve。　They？d　stayed　at　the　Langham　Hotel　just　off　Regent　Street；　visited　
Old　Ben　and　Buckingham　Palace；　seen　the　crown　jewels；　watched　the　changing　of　the　guard；　
drunk　tea；　and　eaten　scones。　As　far　as　she　could　remember；　she？d　spent　most　of　the　trip　listening　to　
Madonna　on　her　iPod。　But　that　was　London　as　atourist。　Now　that　shelived　here；　things　were　totally　
different。　

Everyone　said　London　was　gray；　overcast；　foggy；　and　depressing；　but　it　had　been　clear　and　sunny　
all　week。　The　trees　were　in　full　bloom；　there　were　lush　gardens　on　every　block；　and　every　building　
was　ornate　and　beautiful。　Everyone　also　said　that　the　English　were　standoffish；　with　bad　teeth　and　
thick　accents；　and　although　their　teeth　and　accentswere　distractions；　so　far　every　person　Blair　had　
spoken　to　had　been　unfailingly　polite。　

Of　course　they　had　been？she？d　only　talked　to　salespeople　who　worked　on　mission。　

Blair　checked　her　cell　again：　no　messages。　She　tossed　the　phone　back　into　her　bag。　She　
understood　that　a　gentleman　had　to　pay　extra　attention　to　his　guest？family　was　very　important　to　
the　English　upper　class？and　Camilla　was　lovely；　really。　She　really　was。　Even　if　she　did　look　like　a　
blond　cartoon　freakworm。　And　Blair　understood；　really　she　did。　But　she　was　ready　to　spice　things　
up　a　little；　and　the　more　Lord　Marcus　made　her　wait；　the　more　fidgety　and　eager　she　got。　Maybe　
the　whole　thing　was　just　a　ploy　to　turn　her　on　as　much　as　possible？

　Um；　maybe。　

Strolling　down　the　street　in　the　general　direction　of　her　hotel；　Blair　felt　like　a　cross　between　Julia　
Roberts　inPretty　Woman　？the　scene　where　she　goes　shopping　in　a　giant　black　wide…brimmed　hat　
and　has　all　the　Rodeo　Drive　salespeople　waiting　on　her　hand　and　foot？and　Audrey　Hepburn　inMy　
Fair　Lady　；　the　beautiful　Cockney　waif　who　rises　from　obscurity　on　the　streets　of　London　to　
bee　the　toast　of　the　town。　Except　Blair　was　neither　a　prostitute　nor　a　waif　from　the　gutter。　

　Details；　details。　

She　glanced　up　and　down　the　street；　but　every　store　window；　every　awning；　looked　familiar。　Had　
she　really　made　it　toall　the　stores　in　the　neighborhood？　Finding　great　clothes　in　London　was　easy；　
and　the　exchange　rate　made　it　even　better。　Blair　noticed　it　the　minute　she　arrived；　she　had　to　get　
cash　for　a　taxi　and　was　surprised　at　how　many　bright；　pretty　pastel…colored　bills　she　got　in　
exchange　for　her　boring　old　U。S。　dollars。　The　teller　at　the　bank　even　gave　her　a　handful　of　
change？including　an　oversize　penny　that　was　worth　two　cents；　not　just　one；　a　funny　
hexagon…shaped　coin；　and　a　bunch　of　thick；　heavy　coins　that　were　worth　a　whole　pound　each。　If　
the　English　used　coins　for　the　same　thing　Americans　used　bills　for；　clearly　this　was　a　place　to　find　


great　bargains。　Not　that　sheneeded　to　find　bargains。　

Blair　was　standing　outside　of　what　at　first　looked　like　just　another　West　London　brick　mansion：　a　
tall；　well…lit　town　house　with　big；　clean　windows　and　blooming　flower　boxes　underneath　them。　A　
lifetime　of　shopping　had　given　Blair　a　sixth　sense；　she　justknew　when　something　good　was　
lurking　nearby。　Through　the　street…level　windows　she　could　see　an　ornate　Chinese　vase　stuffed　full　
of　white　camellias　on　a　pretty　gilded　table。　Blair　couldn？t　see　any　clothes　but　she　was　absolutely　
convinced　something　incredible　was　inside。　

After　all；　everyone　has　a　special　talent。　

She　rang　the　doorbell　and　the　door　buzzed　back；　so　she　pushed　it　open　and　stepped　into　the　
marble　foyer　of　the　elegant　house。　The　open；　airy　parlor　floor　was　filled　with　simple　displays：　an　
incredible　Kelly　green　crocodile　bowling　bag　perched　on　top　of　a　broken　Corinthian　column　
bathed　in　the　soft　glow　of　a　spotlight；　a　show…stopping　pair　of　red　velvet　ballerina　flats　atop　a　satin　
pillow。　They　were　so　plush　Blair　couldn？t　resist　stroking　them。　A　tall　Indian　girl　with　long；　thick　
hair　smiled　at　her　from　behind　the　antique　art　nouveau　desk。　Blair　felt　a　little　self…conscious　in　her　
Rock　&　Republic　jeans；　her　gold　silk　Eberjey　camisole　and　her　skimpy　sandals；　but　she　wasn？t　
about　to　walk　out。　

？I？m　Lyla；？　the　salesgirl　chirped　in　a　clipped　English　accent。　？Do　let　me　know　if　I　can　help　you　
find　anything。？　

Blair　walked　to　the　foot　of　the　gracefully　curving　staircase。　Sensing　something　in　the　distance；　
she　ascended　the　marble　steps　grandly。　The　steps　wereexactly　like　the　ones　Eliza　descends　inMy　
Fair　Lady　；　in　the　scene　where　she　has　her　society　debut。　

See；　life　really　does　imitate　art。　

The　second　floor　was　nearly　empty；　except　for　a　floor…to…ceiling　three…way　mirror　against　the　far　
wall。　Sun　flooded　in　and　Blair　paused；　pretending　it　was　her　own　private　dressing　room。　In　the　
middle　of　the　space；　suspended　from　a　glass　hanger；　hung　a　long　white　dress。　It　was　made　of　silk；　
cut　along　the　bias；　and　seemed　to　breathe　as　if　it　had　a　life　of　its　own。　It　was　。。。beautiful。　Whoever　
wore　that　dress　would　be　the　star　of　a　never…ending　love　story　with　herself。　Blair　reached　out　to　
touch　the　dress；　transfixed。　Could　it　be？　It　was。　

It　was　a　wedding　dress。　

It　washer　wedding　dress。　

？Would　you　like　to　try　it　on？？　

Blair　whirled　around　to　see　Lyla　from　downstairs。　She