The purpose of having the sun go low in the evenings, in the summer, especially in parks, said the voice earnestly, is to make girl’s breasts bob up and down more clearly to the eye. I am convinced that this is the case.
Arthur and Fenchurch giggled about this to each other as they passed. She hugged him more tightly for a moment.
And I am certain, said the frizzy ginger-haired youth with the long thin nose who was epostulating from his deckchair by the side of the Serpentine, that if one worked the argument through, one would find that it flowed with perfect naturalness and logic from everything, he insisted to his thin dark-haired companion who was slumped in the next door deckchair feeling dejected about his spots, that Darwin was going on about. This is certain. This is indisputable. And, he added, I love it.
He turned sharply and squinted through his spectacles at Fenchurch. Arthur steered her away and could feel her silently quaking.
Next guess, she said, when she had stopped giggling, come on.
All right, he said, your elbow. Your left elbow. There’s something wrong with your left elbow.
Wrong again, she said, completely wrong. You’re on completely the wrong track.
The summer sun was sinking through the tress in the park, looking as ifLet’s not mince words. Hyde Park is stunning. Everything about it is stunning except for the rubbish on Monday mornings. Even the ducks are stunning. Anyone who can go through Hyde Park on a summer’s evening and not feel moved by it is probably going through in an ambulance with the sheet pulled over their face.
It is a park in which people do more extraordinary things than they do elsewhere. Arthur and Fenchurch found a man in shorts practising the bagpipes to himself under a tree. The piper paused to chase off an American couple who had tried, timidly to put some coins on the box his bagpipes came in.
No! he shouted at them, go away! I’m only practising.
He started resolutely to reinflate his bag, but even the noise this made could not disfigure their mood.
Arthur put his arms around her and moved them slowly downwards.
I don’t think it can be your bottom, he said after a while, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with that at all.
Yes, she agreed, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with my bottom.
They kissed for so long that eventually the piper went and practiced on the other side of the tree.
I’ll tell you a story, said Arthur.
Good.
“太阳，特别是公园的太阳，在夏天的晚上落山，目的就是”一个诚挚的声音说，“让眼前女孩起伏的胸部更加明晰。我确信正是这样。”
阿瑟和芬琪诗经过那个人的时候相视而笑。有一会儿，她把他抱得紧了一些。
“而且我可以肯定，”那个有着姜黄色卷发和长长的窄鼻子的年轻人躺在蛇湖（注1）旁的折叠椅上说，“如果有人要搞清楚这个论点，就会发现里面流淌着完美的逻辑解释和天然公理，”他对倒在旁边折叠椅上正对自己的雀斑感到沮丧的深色头发的瘦子同伴坚持着自己的观点，“这些正是达尔文要啰嗦的事。这是可以肯定的。这是毋庸置疑的。而且，”他补充道，“我就喜欢。”
他猛地转过身来透过他的镜片斜视芬琪诗。阿瑟把她抱开，感觉到她在憋住笑声而不停地发抖。
“你再猜，”当她止住笑了，便说道，“来吧。”
“好啦，”他说，“你的肘部。你的左肘部。你的左肘部有些不对头。”
“又错啦，”她说，“完全错误。你完全想偏了。”
夏天的太阳从公园的林间西沉，看起来像是——算了，我们还是不要太把词语绕来绕去了。海德公园真是太美妙了。它的一切都是那么美妙——除了周一早上的垃圾。就连那些鸭子都很美妙。如果有人在夏夜经过海德公园而没有被它所感动震撼，那么他可能是脸上盖着白床单躺在救护车里经过的。
在这个公园里，人们会比在别处做更加不寻常的事儿。阿瑟和芬琪诗发现了一个在树下穿着短裤独自练习风笛的家伙。那个风笛手停了下来去追赶一对胆怯地试图向他的风笛盒里放几枚硬币的美国夫妇。
“不！”他对他们吼道，“滚开！我只是在练习。”
他毅然决然地再次吹胀了风袋，但即便这样的噪音也没有破坏他们的兴致。
阿瑟用胳臂搂着她慢慢往下走。
“我觉得应该不是你的臀部，”他过了一会儿开口道，“那儿看起来完全没问题。”
“是啊，”她表示赞同，“我的臀部完全没问题。”
他们吻了好长一段时间以至于那个风笛手最后都要转到树的另一面去练习了。
“我要给你讲个故事。”阿瑟说。
“好啊。”