"An'sixpence an'all! Oh, your Ladyship, you shouldn't, you shouldn't. Why, isn't Lady Chatterley good to yer! My word, you're a lucky girl this morning!” She pronounced the name, as all the people did: Chat'ley. Connie was moving away... "Well, thank you ever so much, Lady Chat'ley, I'm sure. Say thank you to Lady Chat'ley!"——this last to the child.”
“六便士呢！噢，尊敬的夫人，您何必这样呢，您不必这样的。天呢，查泰莱夫人对恁多好！哎呀，你这丫头今儿早上真是交运了！”跟所有村民一样，她把查泰莱读作查莱。康妮正打算抽身离去。“哦，从心底感谢您，查莱夫人。跟查莱夫人说谢谢！”最后这句是跟孙女说的。
"Thank you," piped the child.
“谢谢。”女孩尖声细气地说。
"There's a dear!" laughed Connie, and she moved away, saying "Good morning", heartily relieved to get away from the contact.
“真是乖孩子！”康妮笑着回应，道别后，便转身远去，能摆脱这对祖孙，她感觉如释重负。
Curious, she thought, that that thin, proud man should have that little, sharp woman for a mother!
她心中暗自诧异，那个身材瘦削、目中无人的男子，居然有位五短身材、却精明强干的母亲！
And the old woman, as soon as Connie had gone, rushed to the bit of mirror in the scullery, and looked at her face. Seeing it, she stamped her foot with impatience. "Of COURE she had to catch me in my coarse apron, and a dirty face! Nice idea she'd get of me!” Connie went slowly home to Wragby. "Home!——it was a warm word to use for that great, weary warren. But then it was a word that had had its day. It was somehow cancelled. All the great words, it seemed to Connie, were cancelled for her generation: love, joy, happiness, home, mother, father, husband, all these great, dynamic words were half dead now, and dying from day to day. Home was a place you lived in, love was a thing you didn't fool yourself about, joy was a word you applied to a good Charleston, happiness was a term of hypocrisy used to bluff other people, a father was an individual who enjoyed his own existence, a husband was a man you lived with and kept going in spirits. As for sex, the last of the great words, it was just a cocktail term for an excitement that bucked you up for a while, then left you more raggy than ever. Frayed! It was as if the very material you were made of was cheap stuff, and was fraying out to nothing.
康妮前脚刚走，那老妪就忙不迭地跑到洗碗池旁，对着一块小镜子，端详起自己的脸来。看到鼻头的黑渍，她气急败坏地跺着脚。“她一准看见我的粗布围裙，还有脏兮兮的脸！她肯定把我当作笑柄！”康妮缓步向拉格比家中走去。“家！——这个词给那栋沉郁的大宅平添几分温暖。但如今，这个词已经过了时。不知何故被剔除了。康妮觉得，似乎所有美妙的字眼都与自己这代人绝缘：爱情，快乐，幸福，家庭，母亲，父亲，丈夫。所有这些生机盎然的绝佳词汇，现在都已半死不活，逐渐走向衰亡。家庭乃存身之地，爱情不容自欺，快乐用来形容热舞时的感受，幸福是蒙蔽他人的虚伪用词，父亲只懂享受自己的生活，丈夫与你同住一个屋檐下，又要你打起精神与他一起生活。至于性爱，所有伟大词汇的终结篇，不过是个牵强附会的字眼，用以形容某种亢奋的状态，它能瞬间将你送上快乐的巅峰，紧接着让你变得支离破碎，比以往更加不堪。一点点被磨碎！好像你是用最廉价材料做成的次品，只会逐渐被消磨殆尽，直到尸骨无存。
All that really remained was a stubborn stoicism: and in that there was a certain pleasure. In the very experience of the nothingness of life, phase after phase, Étape After Étape, there was a certain grisly satisfaction. So that's that! Always this was the last utterance: home, love, marriage, Michaelis: So that's that! And when one died, the last words to life would be: So that's that!
硕果仅存的只剩那难以摆脱的淡漠，而在其中能够品味到某种愉悦。空虚的生命之旅一段又一段，一程又一程，而体验到的是某种令人胆战心惊的满足感。仅此而已！这句话总作为演说的结语：家庭，爱情，婚姻，米凯利斯，仅此而已！寿终正寝时，留给人生的告别辞仍是：仅此而已！
Money? Perhaps one couldn't say the same there. Money one always wanted. Money, Success, the bitch-goddess, as Tommy Dukes persisted in calling it, after Henry James, that was a permanent necessity. You couldn't spend your last sou, and say finally: So that's that! No, if you lived even another ten minutes, you wanted a few more sous for something or other. Just to keep the business mechanically going, you needed money. You had to have it. Money you HAVE to have. You needn't really have anything else. So that's that!
金钱呢？或许只能另当别论。人生在世，总离不开金钱。金钱意味着成功，而成功则是汤米·杜克斯口中常提到的堕落女神，他借用了亨利·詹姆斯（注：1843-1916，美国小说家、评论家）的比喻。这些始终是人类需要的东西。花掉最后的铜板，用“仅此而已！”来给人生作结，没人能够做到这一点。这显然行不通，即使生命仅剩十分钟，还是需要更多的钱来做这做那。要使任何事有效地进行下去，都需要金钱作为后盾。它是生活的必需品。你必须拥有金钱。其余所有的东西都可以抛到一边。仅此而已！
Since, of course, it's not your own fault you are alive. Once you are alive, money is a necessity, and the only absolute necessity. All the rest you can get along without, at a pinch. But not money. Emphatically, that's that!
当然，活在世上并不是你的错。可只要活着，就得有钱，它是世间唯一必不可少的东西。紧关截要时，其他的一切都可以抛开。而金钱除外。再度重申，仅此而已！
She thought of Michaelis, and the money she might have had with him; and even that she didn't want. She preferred the lesser amount which she helped Clifford to make by his writing. That she actually helped to make. 'Clifford and I together, we make twelve hundred a year out of writing'; so she put it to herself. Make money! Make it! Out of nowhere. Wring it out of the thin air! The last feat to be humanly proud of! The rest all—my—eye—Betty—Martin.
她回忆起米凯利斯，想到与他私奔后可能会拥有的财富；但即使如此，她仍然不稀罕！她宁愿帮助克利福德完成创作，以获得那为数不多的收入。那份钱里凝聚着她的心血。“我和克利福德共同努力，每年靠写作，就能赚回1200英镑。”她这样对自己说。赚钱！赚钱！无中生有。凭空杜撰！这是她生活中唯一可以标榜的事情！其他的都是鬼话连篇。
So she plodded home to Clifford, to join forces with him again, to make another story out of nothingness: and a story meant money. Clifford seemed to care very much whether his stories were considered first-class literature or not. Strictly, she didn't care. Nothing in it! said her father. Twelve hundred pounds last year! was the retort simple and final.
于是，她步履沉重地回到家中，回到克利福德身边，继续与他凭空捏造出又一部小说，一部能够换回金钱的小说。克利福德似乎很在意自己的小说是否被界定为一流作品。她却对此漠不关心。空洞无物！父亲如此评价。去年就挣回1200英镑！她的反驳简单而决绝。
If you were young, you just set your teeth, and bit on and held on, till the money began to flow from the invisible; it was a question of power. It was a question of will; a subtle, subtle, powerful emanation of will out of yourself brought back to you the mysterious nothingness of money a word on a bit of paper. It was a sort of magic, certainly it was triumph. The bitch-goddess! Well, if one had to prostitute oneself, let it be to a bitch-goddess! One could always despise her even while one prostituted oneself to her, which was good.
若你正青春年少，只需咬紧牙关，坚持到底，财富便会从天而降，这与你的才能息息相关。这同样与决心有关，意志力散发的过程难以捉摸，却又立竿见影，为你带回神秘虚无的金钱——那印有文字的小纸片。金钱拥有某种魔力，当然也意味着成功。那堕落女神！唉，如果卖身已经不可避免，那么就选择堕落女神好了！即使卖身于她，仍可以保留着心中的那份蔑视，这确实是理想的选择。
Clifford, of course, had still many childish taboos and fetishes. He wanted to be thought "really good", which was all cock-a-hoopy nonsense. What was really good was what actually caught on. It was no good being really good and getting left with it. It seemed as if most of the "really good" men just missed the bus. After all you only lived one life, and if you missed the bus, you were just left on the pavement, along with the rest of the failures.
克利福德当然仍保留着许多孩子气的忌讳和情结。他期望跻身“杰出”的行列，但这一自负的想法显然只是痴人说梦。真正的杰出意味着受到公众的广泛认可。才华出众却无人问津，是件糟糕的事情。似乎绝大多数的真正杰出人士都与机遇擦肩而过。人生苦短，若错失良机，就只能与其他失败者一道，体味被遗弃的苦涩。
Connie was contemplating a winter in London with Clifford, next winter. He and she had caught the bus all right, so they might as well ride on top for a bit, and show it.
康妮打算来年冬天与克利福德共赴伦敦。他俩都已将机遇握在手中，因此或许可能体验到那居高临下的畅快瞬间，并且大肆炫耀一番。
The worst of it was, Clifford tended to become vague, absent, and to fall into fits of vacant depression. It was the wound to his psyche coming out. But it made Connie want to scream. Oh God, if the mechanism of the consciousness itself was going to go wrong, then what was one to do? Hang it all, one did one's bit! Was one to be let down ABSOLUTELY? Sometimes she wept bitterly, but even as she wept she was saying to herself: Silly fool, wetting hankies! As if that would get you anywhere!
可糟糕的是，克利福德逐渐变得迷惘，心不在焉，时常堕入空虚与抑郁之中，不可自拔。这是心灵的创伤慢慢在显现。但这一切逼得康妮想要尖叫。噢，上帝，如果意识运行机制出现偏差，该怎么办才好呢？真是活见鬼，但也只能尽人事听天命。难道还能彻底放弃不成？有时她也会痛哭流涕，但就算泪流满面，她也会提醒自己：傻瓜，把手帕都沾湿了！流泪根本无济于事！
Since Michaelis, she had made up her mind she wanted nothing. That seemed the simplest solution of the otherwise insoluble. She wanted nothing more than what she'd got; only she wanted to get ahead with what she'd got: Clifford, the stories, Wragby, the Lady-Chatterley business, money and fame, such as it was...she wanted to go ahead with it all. Love, sex, all that sort of stuff, just water-ices! Lick it up and forget it. If you don't hang on to it in your mind, it's nothing. Sex especially...nothing! Make up your mind to it, and you've solved the problem. Sex and a cocktail: they both lasted about as long, had the same effect, and amounted to about the same thing.
自从与米凯利斯决裂，她已下定决心杜绝任何欲求。这似乎是唯一行之有效的解决方法。她不再奢求其他任何东西，只会好好珍惜目前拥有的：克利福德，小说，拉格比，从男爵夫人的地位，金钱与名誉，诸如此类……她想将这一切都好好经营下去。爱情，性爱，这些都只是爽口的冰糕！浅尝过后便可尽数遗忘。若不为之牵肠挂肚，它就无足轻重。性爱尤其如此……根本无关紧要！只要下定决心，所有问题都会迎刃而解。性爱像杯鸡尾酒，两者持续的时间大致相当，起到的效果也不相上下，因此没什么本质区别。
But a child, a baby! That was still one of the sensations. She would venture very gingerly on that experiment. There was the man to consider, and it was curious, there wasn't a man in the world whose children you wanted. Mick's children! Repulsive thought! As lief have a child to a rabbit! Tommy Dukes? he was very nice, but somehow you couldn't associate him with a baby, another generation. He ended in himself. And out of all the rest of Clifford's pretty wide acquaintance, there was not a man who did not rouse her contempt, when she thought of having a child by him. There were several who would have been quite possible as lover, even Mick. But to let them breed a child on you! Ugh! Humiliation and abomination.
但孩子与之不同，康妮仍希望拥有自己的宝宝。这样的想法仍会让她激动不已。她打算从长计议，绝不草率行事。必须选择一个合适的男人，但奇怪的是，天底下居然找不到康妮中意的对象，让她心甘情愿地为之生子。米克的孩子！想想就觉得恶心！宁可跟一只兔子下崽！汤米·杜克斯？他人品极佳，但不知为何，总是难以把他跟孩子、跟下一代联系起来。这位仁兄宁愿孤独终老。至于克利福德为数众多的亲朋好友，想到其中一位将成为孩子的父亲，她就会觉得可鄙。有几位倒是挺适合做情人，甚至米克。但为他们产下后代！呸！想想就觉得羞耻又恶心。
So that was that!
仅此而已！
Nevertheless, Connie had the child at the back of her mind. Wait! Wait! She would sift the generations of men through her sieve, and see if she couldn't find one who would do. "Go ye into the streets and by ways of Jerusalem, and see if you can find a man." It had been impossible to find a man in the Jerusalem of the prophet, though there were thousands of male humans. But a MAN! C'EST UNE AUTRECHOSE!
尽管如此，康妮心底还是渴望拥有自己的孩子。等等！再等等！她要将这一代男人悉数筛选一遍，看看是否当真就没有合意的目标。“前往耶路撒冷的大街小巷，看看是否能够找到真正的男子汉。”在先知之城耶路撒冷，都找不到真正的男子汉，虽说男人倒是成千上万。但说到男子汉，可就是另外一码事！
She had an idea that he would have to be a foreigner: not an Englishman, still less an Irishman. A real foreigner.
她甚至想过找个外国人，既不是英国人，更不是爱尔兰人。真正的外国人。
But wait! Wait! Next winter she would get Clifford to London; the following winter she would get him abroad to the South of France, Italy. Wait! She was in no hurry about the child. That was her own private affair, and the one point on which, in her own queer, female way, she was serious to the bottom of her soul. She was not going to risk any chance comer, not she! One might take a lover almost at any moment, but a man who should beget a child on one...wait! Wait! It's a very different matter. "Go ye into the streets and byways of Jerusalem..." It was not a question of love; it was a question of a man. Why, one might even rather hate him, personally. Yet if he was the man, what would one's personal hate matter? This business concerned another part of oneself.
但等等！先等等！明年冬天，她会带克利福德去伦敦；后年冬天，她要带他去法国南部，去意大利。耐心等待！她并不着急要孩子。这是她的私事，身为女子的她有着独特的处理方式，在灵魂深处，她对于此事的态度极为慎重。她不会选择与露水情人生子，这不符合她的原则。共度春宵的对象随时都能找到，但与之诞下婴孩的异性……还是等等再说！再等等！这可是与众不同的大事。“前往耶路撒冷的大街小巷……”这件事并不涉及爱情，而关系到他是否是真正的男子汉。没错，或许私底下可能还恨他入骨。但如果他确实是如假包换的男子汉，个人恩怨又算得了什么呢？这并非个人的情感问题。
It had rained as usual, and the paths were too sodden for Clifford's chair, but Connie would go out. She went out alone every day now, mostly in the wood, where she was really alone. She saw nobody there.
阴雨连绵，路面湿滑，克利福德无法驾轮椅出行，但康妮却常常出门散步。现在，她每天都会独自外出，多数时间是去林中徜徉，在那里她真正体验到独处的感觉。不会被任何人打扰。
This day, however, Clifford wanted to send a message to the keeper, and as the boy was laid up with influenza, somebody always seemed to have influenza at Wragby, Connie said she would call at the cottage.
这天，克利福德要捎口信给守林人，但跑腿的小厮因患流感，卧床不起——拉格比似乎总有人与流感结缘，而康妮表示她愿意代劳。
The air was soft and dead, as if all the world were slowly dying. Grey and clammy and silent, even from the shuffling of the collieries, for the pits were working short time, and today they were stopped altogether. The end of all things!
空气轻柔凝滞，似乎整个世界都慢慢陷入濒死的境地。一切都灰暗阴郁，冰冷潮湿，寂静无声，甚至连几处煤矿都没有半点动静，原因是矿区缩短了工时，而今天更是干脆就没开工。世间万物都停止了运转！
In the wood all was utterly inert and motionless, only great drops fell from the bare boughs, with a hollow little crash. For the rest, among the old trees was depth within depth of grey, hopeless inertia, silence, nothingness.
林中万籁俱寂，只有大颗的水滴从光秃秃的枝桠上落下，发出微弱的声响。除此之外，古老的树林中只有那无穷无尽的灰暗，挥之不去的绝望，以及寂静和空虚。
Connie walked dimly on. From the old wood came an ancient melancholy, somehow soothing to her, better than the harsh insentience of the outer world. She liked the inwardness of the remnant of forest, the unspeaking reticence of the old trees. They seemed a very power of silence, and yet a vital presence. They, too, were waiting: obstinately, stoically waiting, and giving off a potency of silence. Perhaps they were only waiting for the end; to be cut down, cleared away, the end of the forest, for them the end of all things. But perhaps their strong and aristocratic silence, the silence of strong trees, meant something else.
康妮在微光中继续前行。历尽沧桑的树林散发出某种久远的忧郁，这种气息抚慰着她的心灵，至少远远好过外面世界的残酷无情。她喜欢这片残余森林的内敛，青睐古老树木的沉默寡言。它们拥有某种沉默的力量，又显示出旺盛的生命力。它们同样在等待，倔强而又坚忍地等待着，在沉默中散发出潜能。或许它们等待的只是末日的降临，被砍伐，被运走，对它们而言，森林的毁灭，对其来说就是一切的终结。但它们那坚韧而高贵的沉默，那属于强悍树木的静默，蕴含着其他的深意。
As she came out of the wood on the north side, the keeper's cottage, a rather dark, brown stone cottage, with gables and a handsome chimney, looked uninhabited, it was so silent and alone. But a thread of smoke rose from the chimney, and the little railed-in garden in the front of the house was dug and kept very tidy. The door was shut.
康妮从北端走出树林，守林人的农舍出现在眼前。这是栋深褐色的石屋，屋顶呈人字形，烟囱甚是美观。它显得那么沉静孤独，像是杳无人迹。但烟囱里升腾起袅袅青烟，屋前的小花园围着篱笆，土壤刚刚松过，打理得十分整洁。门合着。
Now she was here she felt a little shy of the man, with his curious far-seeing eyes. She did not like bringing him orders, and felt like going away again. She knocked softly, no one came. She knocked again, but still not loudly. There was no answer. She peeped through the window, and saw the dark little room, with its almost sinister privacy, not wanting to be invaded.
站在那儿，想起那男人古怪而锐利的目光，康妮觉得脸上有些发烧。她不再想给他捎什么口信，甚至打起退堂鼓来。她轻叩屋门，没人回应。再敲几下，但依然不够响。仍旧无人应门。她透过窗户向内窥视，幽暗的小房间映入眼帘，里面陈列的私人物品几乎透出不祥之气，不容任何人侵犯。
She stood and listened, and it seemed to her she heard sounds from the back of the cottage. Having failed to make herself heard, her mettle was roused, she would not be defeated.
她站在原地，侧耳倾听，有声音似乎从农舍后面传来。那家伙居然没听到敲门声，康妮再次鼓起勇气，她不愿畏缩不前。
So she went round the side of the house. At the back of the cottage the land rose steeply, so the back yard was sunken, and enclosed by a low stone wall. She turned the corner of the house and stopped. In the little yard two paces beyond her, the man was washing himself, utterly unaware. He was naked to the hips, his velveteen breeches slipping down over his slender loins. And his white slim back was curved over a big bowl of soapy water, in which he ducked his head, shaking his head with a queer, quick little motion, lifting his slender white arms, and pressing the soapy water from his ears, quick, subtle as a weasel playing with water, and utterly alone. Connie backed away round the corner of the house, and hurried away to the wood. In spite of herself, she had had a shock. After all, merely a man washing himself, commonplace enough, Heaven knows!
于是，她迈步向屋后绕去。农舍后面的地势陡然升高，因此后院是凹进去的，被一道低矮的石墙围绕着。她绕过房角，停住脚步。玲珑小巧的院落中，距她两步远的地方，那男人正在沐浴，全然没有觉察她的到来。他上半身不着一缕，棉绒马裤滑落到纤细的腰间。他那白皙修长的脊背，弯向满是肥皂沫的大盆，头浸在水里，以一种奇怪的方式，迅速地小幅度摆动着。他抬起细白的双臂，挤出流进耳朵里的肥皂水，动作迅捷轻盈，如同戏水的鼬鼠，享受着透彻的孤单。康妮退到屋角，急匆匆地向树林走去。不知不觉，她心里大为震颤。其实，只是个男人在沐浴而已，实在不足为奇，天晓得她为何这么吃惊！
Yet in some curious way it was a visionary experience: it had hit her in the middle of the body. She saw the clumsy breeches slipping down over the pure, delicate, white loins, the bones showing a little, and the sense of aloneness, of a creature purely alone, overwhelmed her. Perfect, white, solitary nudity of a creature that lives alone, and inwardly alone. And beyond that, a certain beauty of a pure creature. Not the stuff of beauty, not even the body of beauty, but a lambency, the warm, white flame of a single life, revealing itself in contours that one might touch: a body!
然而奇怪的是，刚才的经历让她浮想联翩，身体中的某个部分被深深触动。她看到那条肥大的马裤向下滑落，耷拉在纯净优雅且白皙的腰际，胯骨隐约可见。那种属于孤单生灵的落寞感，彻底征服了她。那副完美无瑕，孤独寂寞的纯白胴体，属于那个独居且内心孑然的生命。除此之外，还有那纯洁生命的独特美感。那既非物质之美，又非身体之美，而是某种轻柔的光芒，孤单生命燃烧着的温暖白色火焰，显露出自己足可触碰的身体轮廓。
Connie had received the shock of vision in her womb, and she knew it; it lay inside her. But with her mind she was inclined to ridicule. A man washing himself in a back yard! No doubt with evil-smelling yellow soap! She was rather annoyed; why should she be made to stumble on these vulgar privacies? So she walked away from herself, but after a while she sat down on a stump. She was too confused to think. But in the coil of her confusion, she was determined to deliver her message to the fellow. She would not he balked. She must give him time to dress himself, but not time to go out. He was probably preparing to go out somewhere.
感官的冲击震撼着康妮的子宫，她心知肚明，这种感觉已经深刻肺腑。而在意识层面，她更想把这件事视为玩笑。在自家后院洗澡的男人！用的肯定还是臭气熏天的硫磺皂。她不禁有些恼火，为何自己偏偏碰上这档子不雅的私事？她逃离现场，好在没被发觉，可走了一会，就在一个树桩上坐下来。她心如乱麻，根本无从思考。但尽管心绪烦乱，她还是决定完成自己捎口信的任务。她不愿无功而返。她得留出工夫，让他穿好衣服，但时间又不能太长，以免他走掉。这家伙很像是正准备要出门。
So she sauntered slowly back, listening. As she came near, the cottage looked just the same. A dog barked, and she knocked at the door, her heart beating in spite of herself.
于是，她放缓脚步，往小屋走去，留意着四周的动静。当她再度走近时，并未发现小屋有任何变化。狗吠声响起，她敲敲门，心不禁砰砰乱跳。
She heard the man coming lightly downstairs. He opened the door quickly, and startled her. He looked uneasy himself, but instantly a laugh came on his face.
那男人下楼梯的声音传进耳朵，步伐甚是轻盈。他忽地打开门，吓了康妮一跳。他的表情也不太自然，但随即便露出笑颜。
"Lady Chatterley!" he said. "Will you come in?" His manner was so perfectly easy and good, she stepped over the threshold into the rather dreary little room.
“查泰莱夫人！”他说，“请进。”他的举止大方得体，彬彬有礼，她迈过门槛，踏入这间颇为阴郁的小屋。
"I only called with a message from Sir Clifford," she said in her soft, rather breathless voice.
“克利福德爵士让我给你捎个口信。”她语调轻柔，但呼吸急促。
The man was looking at her with those blue, all-seeing eyes of his, which made her turn her face aside a little. He thought her comely, almost beautiful, in her shyness, and he took command of the situation himself at once.
那男人凝视着她，那双蓝眼睛似乎能够洞察一切，她感觉有些害羞，微微别过脸去。他觉得含羞的她标致可爱，几乎称得上美艳动人，他立刻就掌握了主动。
"Would you care to sit down?" he asked, presuming she would not. The door stood open.
“请坐。”他说，心里清楚她不会坐。门是敞开着的。
"No thanks! Sir Clifford wondered if you would... and she delivered her message, looking unconsciously into his eyes again. And now his eyes looked warm and kind, particularly to a woman, wonderfully warm, and kind, and at ease.
“不了，多谢！克利福德想让你……”她传完口信，又不自觉地望向他的双眸。他的眼神温暖和善，对于异性，更是格外热情亲切，没有半点拘谨。
"Very good, your Ladyship. I will see to it at once." Taking an order, his whole self had changed, glazed over with a sort of hardness and distance. Connie hesitated, she ought to go. But she looked round the clean, tidy, rather dreary little sitting-room with something like dismay.
“好的，夫人。我立刻就办。”接受命令时，他变了一副模样，显得冷若冰霜，仿佛要拒人千里之外。康妮有些迟疑，她应该回去了。但她却有点沮丧地环顾起这个干净整洁，但又有些阴郁的小起居室。
"Do you live here quite alone?" she asked.
“你一个人住在这儿么？”她问。
"Quite alone, your Ladyship." "But your mother...?" "She lives in her own cottage in the village." "With the child?" asked Connie.
“就我自己，夫人。”“那你母亲呢……？”“她在村里有自己的住处。”“和孩子一起？”她问。
"With the child!" And his plain, rather worn face took on an indefinable look of derision. It was a face that changed all the time, baking.
“跟孩子同住。”他那张饱经风霜的淳朴面孔上，流露出一丝难以琢磨的嘲讽。这张脸上的表情总是变幻莫测，令人困惑。
"No," he said, seeing Connie stand at a loss, "my mother comes and cleans up for me on Saturdays; I do the rest myself." Again Connie looked at him. His eyes were smiling again, a little mockingly, but warm and blue, and somehow kind. She wondered at him. He was in trousers and flannel shirt and a grey tie, his hair soft and damp, his face rather pale and worn-looking. When the eyes ceased to laugh they looked as if they had suffered a great deal, still without losing their warmth. But a pallor of isolation came over him, she was not really there for him.
发觉康妮疑惑不解，他连忙解释说：“我母亲每周六过来，帮我打扫一下，其余时间我自己收拾。”康妮再度望向他。那双眼睛重新泛起笑意，夹杂着些许嘲弄，但却温暖澄蓝，显得颇为友好亲切。他让她惊讶不已。他身着长裤，配法兰绒衬衫、灰色领带，头发柔软湿润，脸色苍白，仿佛饱经沧桑。笑容褪去时，他的双眸看上去像是曾经历尽苦难，但仍未丧失热情。然而，他苍白的面容透露出孤独的气质，她来这儿并非为了他。
She wanted to say so many things, and she said nothing. Only she looked up at him again, and remarked: "I hope I didn't disturb you?” The faint smile of mockery narrowed his eyes.
她有满腹的话语想要倾诉，但却只字未言。她只是再次抬头看着他，说：“希望没有打搅你。”略带嘲讽的微笑让他眯起眼睛。
"Only combing my hair, if you don't mind. I'm sorry I hadn't a coat on, but then I had no idea who was knocking. Nobody knocks here, and the unexpected sounds ominous.” He went in front of her down the garden path to hold the gate. In his shirt, without the clumsy velveteen coat, she saw again how slender he was, thin, stooping a little. Yet, as she passed him, there was something young and bright in his fair hair, and his quick eyes. He would be a man about thirty-seven or eight.
“我刚刚在梳头，请您不要见怪。我还没来得及穿上外套，但我真的不晓得是谁在敲门。从来没人敲过门，乍一听到，敲门声还真让我有些紧张。”他走在前面，将她引领到花园尽头，为她打开门。他只穿着衬衫，没套那件笨重的棉绒外衣，那修长清瘦的身材康妮尽览无疑，而且稍稍有点驼背。然而，从他身边走过时，康妮透过其金黄的发丝、敏锐的双眼，发现洋溢着的青春活力。他大概三十七八岁。
She plodded on into the wood, knowing he was looking after her; he upset her so much, in spite of herself.
她步履沉重地走进树林，清楚他正在背后望向自己，他让她如此意乱情迷，难以自持。
And he, as he went indoors, was thinking: "She's nice, she's real! She's nicer than she knows.” She wondered very much about him; he seemed so unlike a game-keeper, so unlike a working-man anyhow; although he had something in common with the local people. But also something very uncommon.
而他呢，往回走的路上也陷入沉思：“她的确优雅大方，毫不做作！她比自己所知道的还要优秀。”她对他充满好奇，他根本不像是个守林人，怎么样也跟工人阶层扯不上边，虽说跟当地村民有相同之处。但他也有出类拔萃的地方。
"The game-keeper, Mellors, is a curious kind of person," she said to Clifford; "he might almost be a gentleman." "Might he?" said Clifford. "I hadn't noticed.” "But isn't there something special about him?” Connie insisted.
“那个守林人，梅勒斯，是个古怪的家伙，”她对克利福德说，“他简直就是位绅士。”“真的吗？”克利福德不以为然，“我没太留意。”“可你不认为他有些与众不同么？”康妮不肯罢休。
"I think he's quite a nice fellow, but I know very little about him. He only came out of the army last year, less than a year ago. From India, I rather think. He may have picked up certain tricks out there, perhaps he was an officer's servant, and improved on his position. Some of the men were like that. But it does them no good, they have to fall back into their old places when they get home again.” Connie gazed at Clifford contemplatively. She saw in him the peculiar tight rebuff against anyone of the lower classes who might be really climbing up, which she knew was characteristic of his breed.
“我觉得他确有可取之处，但对他并无太多了解。他去年刚刚退伍，至今还未满一年。没记错的话，他是从印度回来的。他本可闯出点名堂的，好像是哪位高官的勤务兵，后来职位得到擢升。许多军人都有这样的经历。但他们难以从中受益，一旦退伍返乡，就只能各归各位。”康妮两眼盯着克利福德，陷入沉思。她看得出，丈夫对有机会平步青云的下等人极端抵触，也深知这是贵族阶层的通病。
"But don't you think there is something special about him?" she asked.
“可是，难道你不觉得他有些异乎寻常吗？”她问。
"Frankly, no! Nothing I had noticed." He looked at her curiously, uneasily, half-suspiciously. And she felt he wasn't telling her the real truth; he wasn't telling himself the real truth, that was it. He disliked any suggestion of a really exceptional human being. People must be more or less at his level, or below it.
“说实话，一点也没有！我没注意有什么特别的。”他不解地看着她，显得心意烦乱，将信将疑。她感觉丈夫没有吐露实情，他压根没对自己说实话，这才是根本原因。他讨厌承认有什么人是超凡脱俗的。他只能接受别人与自己难分伯仲，或者仅是瞠乎其后。
Connie felt again the tightness, niggardliness of the men of her generation. They were so tight, so scared of life!
康妮再次体验到这一代男性的鼠肚鸡肠，心胸狭隘。他们的气量如此狭小，对生活如此充满畏惧！