rl.thebourneidentity-第29部分

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olice？'　'You　know　my　answer。　I　can't　stop　you；　but　I　don't　want　you　to。'
　Marie　lowered　the　gun。　'And　I　won't。　For　the　same　reason　you　don't　want　me　to。　I　don't　believe　what　they　say　you　are　any　more　than　you　do。'
　〃Then　what　do　you　believe？'
　'I　told　you；　I'm　not　sure。　All　I　really　know　is　that　seven　hours　ago　I　was　underneath　an　animal；　his　mouth　all　over　me；　his　hands　clawing　me。。。　and　I　knew　I　was　going　to　die。　And　then　a　man　came　back　for　me　…　a　man　who　could　have　kept　running　…　but　who　came　back　for　me　and　offered　to　die　in　my　place。　I　guess　I　believe　in　him。〃
　'Suppose　you're　wrong？'
　'Then　I'll　have　made　a　terrible　mistake。'
　'Thank　you。　Where's　the　money？'
　'On　the　bureau。　In　your　passport　case　and　wallet　Also　the　name　of　the　doctor　and　the　receipt　for　the　room。'
　'May　I　have　the　passport；　please？　That's　the　Swiss　currency。'
　'I　know。'　Marie　brought　them　to　him。　'I　gave　the　concierge　three　hundred　francs　for　the　room　and　two　hundred　for　the　name　of　the　doctor。　The　doctor's　services　came　to　four　hundred　and　fifty；　to　which　I　added　another　hundred　and　fifty　for　his　co…operation。　Altogether　I　paid　out　eleven　hundred　francs。'
　'You　don't　have　to　give　me　an　account；'　he　said。
　'You　should　know。　What　are　you　going　to　do？'
　'Give　you　money　so　you　can　get　back　to　Canada。'
　'I　mean　afterwards。〃
　'See　how　I　feel　later　on。　Probably　pay　the　concierge　to　buy　some　clothes。　Ask　him　a　few　questions。　I'll　be　all　right。'　He　took　out　a　number　of　large　bills　and　held　them　out　for　her。
　'That's　over　fifty　thousand　francs。'
　'I've　put　you　through　a　great　deal。'
　Marie　St　Jacques　looked　at　the　money；　then　down　at　the　gun　in　her　left　hand。　'I　don't　want　your　money；〃　she　said；　placing　the　weapon　on　the　bedside　table。
　'What　do　you　mean？'
　She　turned　and　walked　back　to　the　armchair；　turning　again　to　look　at　him　as　she　sat　down。　'I　think　I　want　to　help　you。'
　'Now　wait　a　minute。。。'
　'Please；'　she　interrupted。　'Please　don't　ask　me　any　questions。　Don't　say　anything　for　a　while。'
　Book　2
　Neither　of　them　knew　when　it　happened；　or；　in　truth；　whether　it　had　happened。　Or；　if　it　had；　to　what　lengths　either　would　go　to　preserve　it；　or　deepen　it。　There　was　no　essential　drama；　no　conflicts　to　overe　or　barriers　to　surmount。　All　that　was　required　was　munication；　by　words　and　looks；　and；　perhaps　as　vital　as　either　of　these；　the　frequent　acpaniment　of　quiet　laughter。
　Their　living　arrangements　in　the　room　at　the　village　inn　were　as　clinical　as　they　might　have　been　in　the　hospital　ward　it　replaced。　During　the　daylight　hours　Marie　took　care　of　various　practical　matters　such　as　clothes；　meals；　maps　and　newspapers。　On　her　own　she　had　driven　the　stolen　car　ten　miles　south　to　the　town　of　Reinach　where　she　had　abandoned　it；　taking　a　taxi　back　to　Lenzburg。　When　she　was　out　Bourne　concentrated　on　rest　and　mobility。　From　somewhere　in　his　forgotten　past　he　understood　that　recovery　depended　upon　both　and　he　applied　rigid　discipline　to　both；　he　had　been　there　before。。。　before　Port　Noir。
　When　they　were　together　they　talked；　at　first　awkwardly；　the　thrusts　and　parries　of　strangers　thrown　together　and　surviving　the　shock　waves　of　cataclysm。　They　tried　to　insert　normality　where　none　could　exist；　but　it　was　easier　when　they　both　accepted　the　essential　abnormality：　there　was　nothing　to　say　not　related　to　what　had　happened。　And　if　there　was；　it　would　begin　to　appear　only　during　those　moments　when　the　probing　of　what…had…happened　was　temporarily　exhausted；　the　silences　springboards　to　relief；　to　other　words　and　thoughts。
　It　was　during　such　moments　that　Jason　learned　the　salient　facts　about　the　woman　who　had　saved　his　life。　He　protested　that　she　knew　as　much　about　him　as　he　did；　but　he　knew　nothing　about　her。　Where　had　she　sprung　from？　Why　was　an　attractive　woman　with　dark　red　hair　and　skin　obviously　nurtured　on　a　farm　somewhere　pretending　to　be　a　Doctor　of　Economics。
　'Because　she　was　sick　of　the　farm；'　Marie　replied。
　'No　kidding？　A　farm；　really？'
　'Well；　a　small　ranch　would　be　more　like　it。　Small　in　parison　to　the　king…sized　ones　in　Alberta。　In　my　father's　time；　when　a　Canuke　went　west　to　buy　land；　there　were　unwritten　restrictions。　Don't　pete　in　size　with　your　betters。　He　often　said　that　if　he'd　used　the　name　St　James　rather　than　St　Jacques；　he'd　be　a　far　wealthier　man　today。'
　'He　was　a　rancher？'
　Marie　had　laughed。　'No；　he　was　an　accountant　who　became　a　rancher　by　way　of　a　Vickers　bomber　in　the　war。　He　was　a　pilot　in　the　Royal　Canadian　Air　Force。　I　guess　once　he　saw　all　that　sky；　an　accounting　office　seemed　a　little　dull。'
　That　takes　a　lot　of　nerve。'
　'More　than　you　know。　He　sold　cattle　he　didn't　own　on　land　he　didn't　have　before　he　bought　the　ranch。　French…to…the…core；　people　said。'
　'I　think　I'd　like　him。'
　'You　would。'
　She　had　lived　in　Calgary　with　her　parents　and　two　brothers　until　she　was　eighteen；　when　she　went　to　McGill　University　in　Montreal　and　the　beginnings　of　a　life　she　had　never　contemplated。　An　indifferent　student　who　preferred　racing　over　the　fields　on　the　back　of　a　horse　to　the　structured　boredom　of　a　convent　school　in　Alberta；　discovered　the　excitement　of　using　her　mind。
　'It　was　really　as　simple　as　that；〃　she　told　him。　'I'd　looked　at　books　as　natural　enemies；　and　suddenly　here　I　was　in　a　place　surrounded　by　people　who　were　caught　up　in　them；　having　a　marvellous　time。　Everything　was　talk。　Talk　all　day；　talk　all　night　…　in　classrooms　and　seminars；　in　crowded　booths　over　pitchers　of　beer；　I　think　it　was　the　talk　that　turned　me　on。　Does　that　make　sense　to　you？'
　'I　can't　remember；　but　I　can　understand；'　Bourne　said。　'I　have　no　memories　of　college　or　friends！　like　that；　but　I'm　pretty　sure　I　was　there。'　He　smiled。　Talking　over　pitchers　of　beer　is　a　pretty　strong　impression。'
　She　smiled　back。　'And　I　was　pretty　impressive　in　that　department。　A　strapping　girl　from　Calgary　with　two　older　brothers　to　pete　with；　could　drink　more　beer　than　half　the　university　boys　in　Montreal。'
　'You　must　have　been　resented。〃
　'No；　just　envied。'
　A　new　world　had　been　presented　to　Marie　St　Jacques；　she　never　return　to　her　old　one。　Except　for　prescribed　mid…term　holidays；　prolonged　trips　to　Calgary　grew　less　and　less　frequent。　Her　circles　in　Montreal　expanded；　the　summers　taken　up　with　jobs　in　and　outside　the　university。　She　gravitated　first　to　history；　then　reasoned　that　most　of　history　was　shaped　by　economic　forces　…　power　and　significance　had　to　be　paid　for　…　and　so　she　tested　the　theories　of　economics。　And　was　consumed。
　She　remained　at　McGill　for　five　years；　receiving　her　master's　degree　and　a　Canadian　Government　Fellowship　to　Oxford。
　'That　was　a　day；　I　can　tell　you。　I　thought　my　father　would　have　an　apoplectic　fit。　He　left　his　precious　cattle　to　my　brothers　long　enough　to　fly　east　to　talk　me　out　of　it！
　Talk　you　out　of　it？　Why？　He　was　an　accountant；　you　were　going　after　a　doctorate　in　economics。'
　'Don't　make　that　mistake；'　Marie　exclaimed。　'Accountants　and　economists　are　natural　enemies。　One　views　trees；　the　other　forests；　and　the　visions　are　usually　at　odds；　as　they　should　be。　Besides；　my　father's　not　simply　Canadian；　he's　French…Canadian。　I　think　he　saw　me　as　a　traitor　to　Versailles。　But　he　was　mollified　when　I　told　him　that　a　condition　of　the　fellowship　was　a　mitment　to　work　for　the　government　for　a　minimum　of　three　years。　He　said　I　could　〃serve　the　cause　better　from　within〃。　Vive　Quebec；　vive　la　France！'
　They　both　laughed。
　The　three…year　mitment　to　Ottawa　was　extended　for　all　the　logical　reasons：　whenever　she　thought　of　leaving；　she　was　promoted　given　a　larger　office　and　an　expanded　staff。
　'Power　corrupts；　of　course；'　she　smiled；　'and　no　one　knows　it　better　than　a　ranking　bureaucrat　whom　banks　and　corporations　pursue　for　a　remendation。　But　I　think　Napoleon　said　it　better。　〃Give　me　enough　medals　and　I'll　win　you　any　war　〃　So　I　stayed。　I　enjoy　my　work　immensely。　But　then　it's　work　I'm　good　at　and　that　helps。'
　Jason　watched　her　as　she　talked。　Beneath　the　controlled　exterior　there　was　an　exuberant；　childlike　quality　about　her。　She　was　an　enthusiast；　reining　in　her　enthusiasm　whenever　she　felt　it　being　too　pronounced。　Of　course　she　was　good　at　what　she　did；　he　suspected　she　never　did　anything　with　less　than　her　fullest　application。　'I'm　sure　you　are　…　good；　I　mean　…　but　it　doesn't　leave　much　time　for　other　things；　does　it？'
　'What　other　things？'
　'Oh；　the　usual。　Husband；　family；　house　with　a　white　picket　fence。'
　'They　may　e　one　day；　I　don't　rule　them　out。'
　'But　they　haven't。'
　'No。　There　were　a　couple　of　close　calls；　but　no　brass　ring。　Or　diamond；　either。'
　'Who's　Peter？'
　The　smile　faded。　'I'd　forgotten。　You　read　the　cable。'
　I'm　sorry。'
　'Don't　be。　We've　covered　that。。　Peter？　I　adore　Peter。　We　lived　together　for　nearly　two　years；　but　it　didn't　work　out'
　'Apparently　he　doesn't　hold　any　grudges。'
　'He'd　better　not！'　She　laughed　again。　'He's　director　of　the　section；　hopes　for　a　cabinet　appointment　soon。　It　he　doesn't　behave　himself。　I'll　tell　the　department　of　Treasury　what　he　doesn't　know　and　he'll　be　back　as　an　SX…Two。'
　'He　said　he　was　going　to　pick　you　up　at　the　airport　on　the　twenty…sixth　You'd　better　cable　him。'
　'Yes；　I　know。'
　Her　leaving　was　what