午后咖啡unit03 Lost and Found 失而復(fù)得
The weekend was over, and Begbie had returned to town, restless, and strangely unhappy. There was within him a curious sense of something lost. He unpacked his suitcase listlessly, compared its contents with the catalogue fo his weekend needs. Everything was there, from hairbrush to dinner coat—yet that sense of something left behind still oppressed him. A second time he went over the list and compared it with his possessions, to find that nothing was missing; then on a sudden moment there flashed across his mind a full realization of what the lost object was. “That’s it!” he said with a sigh of relief, “I’ll wirte at once to my hostess and ask her to return it.” Action followed the resolution, and, seating himself at his desk, Begbie wrote:
My dear Mrs. Shelton,
Upon my return from the never-to-be-forgotten series of golden hours at Sea Cliff, after the habit of the departing guest, I have left at least one of my possessions behind me. It is of value perhaps to nobody but myself, but poor as it is, I cannot very well do without it. It is my heart. If by some good chance you have found it, and it is of no use to you, will you be good enough to return to me? Or, if by some good fortune you find it worth retaining, will you please tell me so, that I may know it is in your custody and is not lying somewhere cold and neglected? It is the only one I have, and it has never passed out of keeping before.
Harrison Begbie
The following morning, Begbie received a letter postmarked Sea Cliff, and addressed in the familiar handwriting of his hostess. Excitedly he tore it open and found the following:
My dear Mr. Begbie,
What careless creatures you men are! I have found ten such articles as you described in my house during the past ten days, and out of so vast and varied a number I cannot quite decide which one is yours. Some of them are badly cracked; some are battered hopelessly, and only one of them is in first-class condition. I’m hoping it is yours, but I don’t know. In any event on receipt of this won’t you come down here at once and we can run over them together? I’ll meet you on the arrival of the 12:15 at Wavecrest station. Meanwhile, knowing how indispensable a part of the human mechanism a heart truly is, I send you mine to take the place of the other. You may keep it until your own is returned to you.
P.S Telegraph me if you’ll be on the 12:15 train.
Mary Shelton
Ten minutes later the following rush message sped over the wires:
Mrs. Shelton:
Haven’t time to telegraph you of arrival on 12:15. I’m rushing to catch the the 9:05.
Harrison
