评论
打印
She was so placed that Archer, by merely raising his eyes, could see her bent above her work-frame, her ruffled elbow-sleeves slipping back from her firm round arms, the betrothal sapphire shining on her left hand above her broad gold wedding-ring, and the right hand slowly and laboriously stabbing the canvas.
她选的位置使阿切尔一抬眼睛就能看见她俯身在绣花架上，看见她挽到胳膊肘的衣袖顺着结实滚圆的前臂溜了下来。她左手上那颗订婚蓝宝石在那枚阔面结婚金戒指上方熠熠生辉，她的右手则迟缓费力地刺着绣花布。
As she sat thus, the lamplight full on her clear brow, he said to himself with a secret dismay that he would always know the thoughts behind it, that never, in all the years to come, would she surprise him by an unexpected mood, by a new idea, a weakness, a cruelty or an emotion.
她这样子坐着，灯光直射她那明净的额头。他暗自沮丧地想，藏在它里面的想法他永远都会一清二楚，在未来的全部岁月中，她决不会有意想不到的情绪--新奇的想法。感情的脆弱、冷酷或激动--让他感到意外。
She had spent her poetry and romance on their short courting: the function was exhausted because the need was past.
她的诗意与浪漫已经在他们短暂的求爱过程中消耗殆尽-- 机能因需求的消逝而枯竭。
Now she was simply ripening into a copy of her mother, and mysteriously, by the very process, trying to turn him into a Mr. Welland.
如今她不过是在逐渐成熟，渐渐变成她母亲的翻版而已，而且还神秘兮兮地企图通过这一过程，也把他变成一位韦兰先生。
He laid down his book and stood up impatiently; and at once she raised her head.
他放下书本，烦躁地站了起来。她立即抬起头。
"What's the matter?" "The room is stifling: I want a little air."
“怎么啦？”“这屋子很闷，我需要点空气。”
He had insisted that the library curtains should draw backward and forward on a rod, so that they might be closed in the evening, instead of remaining nailed to a gilt cornice, and immovably looped up over layers of lace, as in the drawing-room; and he pulled them back and pushed up the sash, leaning out into the icy night.
他曾经坚持图书室的窗帘应装在竿上来回地拉，便于在晚上拉上，而不是钉在镀金檐板上，用环箍住不能动，像客厅里那样。他把窗帘拖过来，推起吊窗，探身到冰冷的黑夜中。
The mere fact of not looking at May, seated beside his table, under his lamp, the fact of seeing other houses, roofs, chimneys, of getting the sense of other lives outside his own, other cities beyond New York, and a whole world beyond his world, cleared his brain and made it easier to breathe.
仅仅是不看着坐在他桌旁灯下的梅，看一看别的住宅、屋顶、烟囱，感受到除了自己还有另外的生命，除了纽约还有另外的城市，除了自己的天地还有整整一个世界--仅此一点就使他头脑清醒，呼吸舒畅起来。
After he had leaned out into the darkness for a few minutes he heard her say: "Newland! Do shut the window. You'll catch your death."
他把头伸到黑暗中呆了几分钟后，只听她说：“纽兰！快关上窗子。你要找死呀。”
He pulled the sash down and turned back. "Catch my death!" he echoed; and he felt like adding: "But I've caught it already.
他拉下吊窗，转过身来。“找死！”他重复道，心里仿佛在说：“可我已经找到了，
I am dead--I've been dead for months and months."
我现在就是死人--已经死了好几个月好几个月了。”
And suddenly the play of the word flashed up a wild suggestion. What if it were she who was dead!
猛然间，对这个词的玩味使他产生了一个疯狂的念头：假若是她死了又会怎样？假若她快要死了--
If she were going to die--to die soon--and leave him free!
不久就死--从而使他获得自由！
The sensation of standing there, in that warm familiar room, and looking at her, and wishing her dead, was so strange, so fascinating and overmastering, that its enormity did not immediately strike him.
站在这间熟悉的、暖融融的屋子里看着她，盼望她死，这种感觉是那样地奇怪、诱人，那样不可抗拒，以致使他没有立刻想到它的凶残。
He simply felt that chance had given him a new possibility to which his sick soul might cling.
他仅仅觉得那种侥幸可以给他病态的灵魂以新的依托。
Yes, May might die-- people did: young people, healthy people like herself: she might die, and set him suddenly free.
是的，梅有可能死--好多人死了：好多像她一样年轻、健康的人。她有可能死去，从而突然使他获得自由。
She glanced up, and he saw by her widening eyes that there must be something strange in his own.
她抬头瞥了他一眼，从她睁大的眼睛里他看出自己的目光一定有点奇怪。
"Newland! Are you ill?"
“纽兰！你病了吗？”
He shook his head and turned toward his arm-chair.
他摇摇头，朝他的扶手椅走去。
She bent over her work-frame, and as he passed he laid his hand on her hair.
她又俯身她的刺绣，他路过她身边时，一只手放在她头上。
"Poor May!" he said.
“可怜的梅！”他说。
"Poor? Why poor?" she echoed with a strained laugh.
“可怜？可怜什么！”她勉强笑了笑重复说。
"Because I shall never be able to open a window without worrying you," he rejoined, laughing also.
“因为只要我开窗子就会让你担心啊，”他回答道，也笑了起来。
For a moment she was silent; then she said very low, her head bowed over her work: "I shall never worry if you're happy."
她一时没有作声，过了一会儿，她头也不抬，十分缓慢地说：“只要你高兴，我就决不会担心。”
"Ah, my dear; and I shall never be happy unless I can open the windows!"
“啊，亲爱的；除非我把窗子全打开，否则我永远不会高兴的。”
"In this weather?" she remonstrated; and with a sigh he buried his head in his book.
“在这样的天气里？”她争辩道。他叹了口气，埋头去读他的书。
Six or seven days passed.
六七天过去了，
Archer heard nothing from Madame Olenska, and became aware that her name would not be mentioned in his presence by any member of the family.
阿切尔压根没听到奥兰斯卡夫人的消息。他渐渐明白，家里任何人都不会当着他的面提她的名字。
He did not try to see her; to do so while she was at old Catherine's guarded bedside would have been almost impossible.
他也不想见她，当她在老凯瑟琳置于保护之下的床前时，去见她几乎是不可能的。
In the uncertainty of the situation he let himself drift, conscious, somewhere below the surface of his thoughts, of a resolve which had come to him when he had leaned out from his library window into the icy night.
由于情况不明，阿切尔只好听天由命，在思想深处的某个地方，怀着当他从图书室的窗口探身到冰冷的黑暗时所产生的那个主意。
The strength of that resolve made it easy to wait and make no sign.
靠这股力量的支持，他不动声色地安心等待着。
