人工湖上,一座古老的石桥,湖下,一群羽毛柔软的天鹅在无声无息地游动。茂盛的紫茸、火红的夹竹桃竞相开放在桔树、棕榈和我叫不上名字的树木之间。穿过精致的石拱门,沿着长长的走廊,我来到一座豪华的客厅,客厅里摆着成套的藤制家俱和室内棕榈树。这不是在印度,而是在好莱坞的贝尔旅馆,举止高雅的大卫·里恩爵士请我入坐,我们的谈话逐渐转入《印度之行》。 Artificial lake, an ancient stone bridge, lake, a group of soft feathers swan swimming quietly. Lush purple velvet, red oleander competing open between orange trees, palm trees and my name can not be named. Through the exquisite stone arches, along the long corridor, I came to a luxurious living room, living room complete with rattan furniture and indoor palm trees. This is not in India, but in the Bell Hotel in Hollywood, Sir David Leone, an elegant man, invited me to sit, our conversation gradually into the “trip to India.”