Titanic: True Love Forever

Chapter 18: Arrested

After I finished mourning, I sharply got up from the ground and immediately detached myself from that dance atmosphere. When I first choreographed this dance, it was inspired by a visit to a war museum. After I came back, it took me two months to complete this choreography, which is a dance of the desperate memories of a woman whose loved one was taken away by the war. Dancing is just like acting. When I enter the theater, I have the state of mind of the woman who lost her partner. If I don't understand this feeling deeply, it's hard to express it with movement.

I feel that this work is not bad, and the response has been sensational, so it is one of the masterpieces. Unfortunately, my body control and balance are not as good as they used to be, so when I danced with this body, it was just like a radio gymnastic exercise, just for fun and to get some exercise.

She slapped her skirt with both hands a few times, knocking off all the dirt on it. Then hands spread out and stretched, I squinted and yawned, after doing dance radio gymnastics all tired and relaxed. Then walked barefoot to the vintage car and opened the door intending to spend the night inside. This body's stamina is not working, today is too toss and turn to stay up all night is not able to stay up.

Reaching out to pull open the car door, one foot just about to step up, suddenly felt that something was wrong. I stayed, only barely remembered that when I walked over just now, I seemed to see something that didn't belong in this place, and I ignored it.

I began to think back, but could not think of a reason, and then turned back to look around carefully, stacked with cargo boxes of the cargo hold is quiet, except for that kind of muffled booms nothing. It seemed that I was too excited mentally, how could I have felt that anyone was looking at me?

I pulled my gaze back and looked down as I was about to get into the car when I noticed some slight shaking in the car, not something that comes from a ship in motion. If anything, I finally remembered to look up, and then I saw a fine net fall from the sky, splitting my face and enveloping me.

I'm going to f**k you!

There's barely time to struggle before I hear someone jump heavily off the roof of the car and then step on the mesh to drag me down, and I trip over this drag, with not a shred of self-salvation left as I'm bundled into a ball with the net.

I lay on my back in the net and opened my eyes to look out through the mesh, seeing first a pair of shiny leather shoes, pants stained with a few gray marks, then upward to the man's suit, and when I saw above the neck, the cold face of the old poodle came into view. He stepped over the mesh and looked at me indifferently, then inquired in a somewhat raspy voice, "Mr. Hockley, I've found her, shall we turn her over to the crew for disposal."

As soon as his voice trailed off, I saw Carl barely stand up straight and limp-like out of the back of the car. He was frowning, his lips pursed upward hard, and a good portion of his hair spilled from the back of his head to the side of his face. He waved his hand hard at Lovejoy, still looking around with a disgusted look on his face, and then brushed up against the side of the car, towering over me as he gave a cold grunt of laughter. "Miss Emily? Or was it that damned thief from third class? And now what are you doing, dancing around with your bare thighs? You ...... you're simply, simply ......"

Simply for the most part, I was almost disappointed in his lack of language skills.

"Simply a witch, yes, a witch." Carl managed to find a phrase to describe the abomination and he cursed it out indignantly, his hand pulling a wound somewhere on his body from swinging too hard, and he sucked in a breath of cold air hastily reaching up to cover his stomach and bracing his other hand on the car door. Just like that he said with a smug look on his face, "I'll let you run, and soon it will be clear to everyone that you're just a lowlife thief who doesn't even have a ticket to the boat, a damn thief."

I must have killed my father and taken my wife from Calhokli, and he's still able to leave his upper-class dignity behind and run down to the cargo hold to catch a thief? How did he know I was here when even the pickets hadn't found me yet?

"Sir, I think there's been some misunderstanding between us." I plopped down into the net and flashed a friendly smile. It looks like he hates to get me killed, so instead of handing me over to the ship's staff, he wants the old poodle to strangle me to death and then throw me overboard to sink my body, right?

"Misunderstanding?" Carl choked on me until his hands were shaking, and then he laughed in anger, the upturned corners of his mouth twisting hideously to either side of his cheeks. "What misunderstanding, what did I misunderstand about you? You ...... made me like this." He said excitedly, covering his stomach, during which he convulsed with pain again, his voice close to changing tone as he continued, "You stole my watch, used my bathroom, and my fiancée's dress is still on you."

I had left my dirty clothes and all those dollars ship's tickets there when I changed in that upper class room, and it wasn't surprising that he knew I was the one who had rolled up his watch.

"Then I'll take my clothes off and give them back to you." There was no way to return the watch, and the bathroom was treated as if those dollars he'd rewarded him with were a rental fee; I'd heard that the swimming pool on the Titanic was only twenty-five cents a use. The rest of the butterfly barrette was returned, and I didn't trust the ship's assembly engineers to covet that woman's clip. This is the only dress I have on that hasn't been stripped off yet, and I don't think the original owner would wear it if it rolled around on the floor like that without being washed twice.

"Strip ...... off?" As if he had heard something very terrible and unbelievable, he was on the verge of not being able to support his faltering body with one hand on the car door.

"It's okay, it's not like you haven't seen my body before." While not moving my body a bit, I continued to delay time with him by flirting with him with a smile on my face. Unfortunately, the net is just too tight, and Lovejoy, this old zombie face, doesn't give me a chance to struggle, even if I chat with Calhokli here for the whole night, as long as there's no order from his employer, don't think that he'll let his guard down.

I've met the connoisseur, and I feebly continue to sprawl on the ground in chagrin.

"That was an accident?" Carl said aloud, eyes darting around unnaturally, worried that someone else might have overheard our conversation, and then he looked malevolently at Lovejoy.

"I didn't see ...... anything," the old poodle said slowly, stiffening his cold face, "and I didn't hear anything either."

Lovjoy.

I sighed helplessly, if I was given another chance, don't think I'd go to Southampton, let alone get on this damn ship. The clock was ticking closer and closer to tomorrow's stopping of the ship and I was the spider with the stumpy legs trapped in the web.

"Well, how do you know my name, there's no way I know you." Carl lowered his eyebrows in confusion, he thought it was unusual for me to know his name.

"Carl." I called out to him smoothly, before I could find a reason to excuse myself.

Already irritated, Carl Hockley whispered menacingly, "Shut up, don't call me that, and call my name in that voice again and I'll throw you overboard."

What voice? That's the kind of voice I have right now, as if I've stepped on a rat?

"I heard someone call your name, so I know your name." That kind of excuse comes with the territory. Can I still say you're some grim-faced male co-star in some great movie? By the way, you were also dumped by your fiancée, so that's a welcome relief.

"Liar, you look like a born liar, don't think I'm going to believe a word that comes out of your mouth." Carl looked particularly agitated as he switched hands to brace himself against the car door while the remaining one propped up very unnaturally on his waist, his whole body leaning against the car.

I don't believe you're even asking, I shut my mouth, there's no good way to break free of the net for now so I'll just have to wait and see what happens. I really don't believe that they dare to kill and destroy the body, it's not like they really encountered the triads, I recalled the plot of the movie, Carl Hockley his family sells steel, most of the steel of this ship is provided by his family. So as a businessman with money in his pockets, who works hard to earn his reputation when he's not short of money to spend, he definitely couldn't jump into the Atlantic Ocean if he was seen treating a lady like that.

The old poodle was far more sensible than his employer and he was quick to notice what I was thinking. He smoothed his hand naturally over his suit jacket, smoothing out the creases that had just jumped off the roof of the car, then turned to Carl and said, "Sir, I think the officers inspecting the cargo hold will be here soon, and we shouldn't stay here any longer. What about her?"

"What to do with her, I want her to come down to the lobby of the upper deck and apologize to me in person, as well as admit that she's a thief without a ship's ticket, and that what she said was a slur against me. And I want her to go to jail, forever." Carl said indignantly, pointing at me, immediately bracing his hand on his waist again after pointing.

I don't know why, but I heard aggression in his angry voice. But just kicking you twice and kissing you again is going to put me in jail forever, that's so mean. No wonder the heroine doesn't want you, you deserve to be cuckolded.

Lovejoy looked over at me and silently scrutinized me for a few seconds with a creepy look that cuts through human bread, then he let go of the net and crouched down to me and said, "I think you know what we want you to do right, now I'll let go of this net, and you're going to be so desperate to run away like a little rat in an underground ditch that you can't wait to get out of there in a panic. But I advise you not to do that; I have caught many prisoners who could have gone happily to jail, but died in our pursuit because they escaped."

As he said this, he reached inside his suit jacket as if nothing had happened, pulled out his holstered pistol, and pointed it at my head calmly, "Well, you can climb out and come with us to the upper levels, and have your crime publicized. You won't have to go to jail forever, but you will have to restore Mr. Hockley's reputation. I've seen a lot of people like you, cunning, unscrupulous, even ruthless. Even if you could get away with it now, next time you'll be arrested and put in jail for some other theft."

He really did think I was a jungle thief, and I lay on my back and tilted my head back to look at the grimy muzzle of the gun, squinting my eyes slightly and lifting the net off my body with some nervousness in my fingers. Slowly, standing up at the point of his gun, barely daring to move.

"Now, turn around and I'll be right behind you." Lovejoy ordered me with a flourish like a cold executioner.

I looked at him and took a few more steps back, gently turning my body to turn my back on the gun. Just in time to see Carl staring at us with glazed eyes, seemingly even more nervous than me, he suddenly snapped out of that tightness and said, a little strangely, "That doesn't require a gun either, Lovejoy."

"Sir, she is so good at escaping that she would easily have escaped if she had not been handed over to the head picket, and if it had been left to me alone; she can dance, and is therefore dexterous." Lovejoy humbly explained to him, one eye politely watching Carl, the other coldly watching my every move.

"Is that dancing? It's witchcraft, compulsion. Make her wear shoes and show what her feet look like." Carl said suddenly staring at my feet with a sharp breath, with the unlucky look of someone who would be allergic to someone else's feet.

I looked down at my feet, my toes flexing and curling a few times, eager to do the kicking exercise.

"Miss, please put your shoes on." The old poodle moves the gun in his hand, expressing the ugly face of a capitalist accomplice.

I really didn't want to shove my feet into those ill-fitting shoes, but unfortunately I didn't have a choice at the moment, so I dutifully walked over to the shoes and stretched out my feet to re-strap them.