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告诉我，你爱我吧"她恳求说。 'Ay!' he said, abstractedly. And she felt her questions driving him away from her. " 是的！"他心不在焉地说。她觉得他的问话，使他远离着她了。 'Mustn't we get up?' he said at last. " 我们得起来了吧？"他最后说。 'No!' she said. " 不！"她说。 But she could feel his consciousness straying, listening to the noises outside. 但是她觉得他分心了，正在听着外边的动静。 
差不多天黑了。"他说。从他的声音里，她听出了世事是不容人的，她吻着他，心里带着一个妇人在放弃她的欢乐时的悲伤。 He rose, and turned up the lantern, then began to pull on his clothes, quickly disappearing inside them. Then he stood there, above her, fastening his breeches and looking down at her with dark, wide-eyes, his face a little flushed and his hair ruffled, curiously warm and still and beautiful in the dim light of the lantern, so beautiful, she would never tell him how beautiful. It made her want to cling fast to him, to hold him, for there was a warm, half-sleepy remoteness in his beauty that made her want to cry out and clutch him, to have him. She would never have him. So she lay on the blanket with curved, soft naked haunches, and he had no idea what she was thinking, but to him too she was beautiful, the soft, marvellous thing he could go into, beyond everything. 他站了起来，把灯火转大了，然后，很快地把衣裤重新穿上。他站着，一边束紧着他的裤子。一边用两只乌黑的大眼睛俯望着她。他那带几分红热的脸孔，乱蓬蓬的头发，在那朦胧的灯光下，显得奇异地温暖、安静而美妙，美妙到她永不会告诉他怎样的美，她想去紧依着他，楼抱着他，因为他的美，有着一种温暖的、半睡眠的幽逮，那使她想呼喊起来，把他紧捉着，把他占据着。但是她是绝不会把他占据的，所以她静卧在毡子上，裸露着她温柔地弯曲着的腰股。他呢，他一点也不知道她在想什么，但是他觉得她是美妙的，尤其是他可以进去的那温软的、神奇的东西，是比一切都更美妙的。 'I love thee that I call go into thee,' he said. " 我爱您，因为我可以进您的身里去。"他说。 'Do you like me?' she said, her heart beating. " 你喜欢我么？"好心跳着说。 'It heals it all up, that I can go into thee. I love thee that tha opened to me. I love thee that I came into thee like that.' " 我既可以进您的身里去，一切便都行了。我爱您，因为您为我开展着。我爱您。因为我可以这样进您的身里去。 
他俯着身上她的柔软的腰窝里吻着，用他的面颊在那儿摩察着，然后用毡子把她盖上了。 'And will you never leave me?' she said. " 你永不丢弃我吧？"她说。 'Dunna ask them things,' he said. " 别问这种事。"他说。 'But you do believe I love you?' she said. " 但是你相信我爱你吧？"她说。 'Tha loved me just now, wider than iver tha thout tha would. But who knows what'll 'appen, once tha starts thinkin' about it!' " 此刻您在爱我，热爱到您以前所意想不到的程度，但是一旦您细想起来的时候，谁知道要怎样呢！" 
不，不要说这种话，……你并不真正以为我利用你吧，是不是？" 'How?' " 怎么？" 'To have a child---?' " 为了生孩子……" 'Now anybody can 'ave any childt i' th' world,' he said, as he sat down fastening on his leggings. " 我们今日，无论谁都可以生无论怎样的孩子。"他一边说，一边坐了下来束紧着他的脚绊。 'Ah no!' she cried. 'You don't mean it?' " 呀，不！"她叫道，"你不是真的这样想吧？" 
晤，"他望着她说，"我们刚才所做的，便是最重要的了。" She lay still. He softly opened the door. The sky was dark blue, with crystalline, turquoise rim. He went out, to shut up the hens, speaking softly to his dog. And she lay and wondered at the wonder of life, and of being. 她静卧着，他慢慢地把门打开了。天是暗蓝色的，天脚是晶莹的蓝玉石色，他出去把母鸡关好了，轻轻地对狗儿说着话。她呢，她躺在那儿，惊异着生命与万物之不可思议。 When he came back she was still lying there, glowing like a gipsy. He sat on the stool by her. 当他回来时，她依旧躺在那儿，娇是象一个流浪的波希米亚妇人，他在她旁边的一张小凳上坐下。 'Tha mun come one naight ter th' cottage, afore tha goos; sholl ter?' he asked, lifting his eyebrows as he looked at her, his hands dangling between his knees. " 在您没有走以前，哪一天晚上您得到村舍里来，好不好？"他举着眉头望着她说，两手垂在膝间。 'Sholl ter?' she echoed, teasing. He smiled. 'Ay, sholl ter?' he repeated. " 好不好？"她模仿着土话打趣说。他微笑着。"是的，好不好？"他重说道。 
是的，她模仿着他。 'An' slaip wi' me,' he said. 'It needs that. When sholt come?' " 和我同睡一宵。"他说，"您定得来，您哪天来？" 'When sholl I?' she said. " 我哪天来？"她用着他的封知问道。 'Nay,' he said, 'tha canna do't. When sholt come then?' " 不，您学得不象，究竟您哪天来？" ''Appen Sunday,' she said. " 也许礼拜天。" 
礼拜天，好的！" He laughed at her quickly. 他嘲笑着她说： 'Nay, tha canna,' he protested. " 不，您学得不象。" 'Why canna I?' she said. " 为什么不象？"她说。 On Sunday Clifford wanted to go into the wood. It was a lovely morning, the pear-blossom and plum had suddenly appeared in the world in a wonder of white here and there. 礼拜天，克利福想到林中去走走，那是个可爱的早晨，梨花李花都突然开了，到处都是奇艳的白色。 
那是件残酷的事，当这世界正在千红万紫的时候，克利福还得从一把轮椅里，被人扶掖着，转到一个小车里，但是他却忘怀了，甚至仿佛觉得他的腿是有某种可骄的地方了。康妮看见人把他那死了的两腿抢到适当的地方去时，还是觉得心里难过，现在，这种工作是由波太太或非尔德担任了。 She waited for him at the top of the drive, at the edge of the screen of beeches. His chair came puffing along with a sort of valetudinarian slow importance. As he joined his wife he said: 她在马路的上头，那山毛榉树凑成的树墙边等着他。他坐在那卟卟响着的小车里前进着，这车子走得象大病人似的缓慢。当他来到康妮那里时，他说： 'Sir Clifford on his roaming steed!' " 克利福男爵骑在喷唾沫的骏马上！" 'Snorting, at least!' she laughed. " 至少是在喷着鼻息的骏马上！"她笑着说。 He stopped and looked round at the facade of the long, low old brown house. 他停住，了望着那褐色的，长而低的老屋。 
勒格贝的神色没有变呢！"他说，"实在，为什么要变呢？我是骑在人类的精神的功业上，那是胜于骑在一匹马上的。"
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