“似乎没有损坏的地方。”他说。然后，他站起身来，把帽子往脑后推了推，磨蹭着额头，显然是正在苦思。

"Have you looked at the rods underneath?" Asked Clifford. "See if they are all right!"

“看到底部的杠杆了么？”克利福德问。“看看它们是否正常！”

The man lay flat on his stomach on the floor, his neck pressed back, wriggling under the engine and poking with his finger. Connie thought what a pathetic sort of thing a man was, feeble and small-looking, when he was lying on his belly on the big earth.

守林人趴在地上，头向后拧，在发动机下面蠕动着，手指戳戳这里，碰碰那里。康妮觉得，堂堂男子汉趴在地上，显得那样渺小，那样微不足道，简直就是条可怜虫。

"Seems all right as far as I can see," came his muffled voice.

“依我看，似乎一切正常。”轮椅下传来他模糊不清的声音。

"I don't suppose you can do anything," said Clifford.

“我看你也无能为力了。”克利福德说。

"Seems as if I can't!” And he scrambled up and sat on his heels, collier fashion. "There's certainly nothing obviously broken.” Clifford started his engine, then put her in gear. She would not move.

“好像确实如此！”他爬起来，蹲在那里，屁股挨着后脚跟，那是矿工们惯用的姿势。“并未发现明显的损坏。”克利福德发动引擎，然后挂上档。但轮椅纹丝没动。

"Run her a bit hard, like," suggested the keeper.

“加大马力，试试怎么样。”守林人建议道。

Clifford resented the interference: but he made his engine buzz like a blue-bottle. Then she coughed and snarled and seemed to go better.

克利福德讨厌被人指挥，但他还是把马达弄得嗡嗡作响，活像只鼓噪的青蝇。她咳嗽了几声，接着咆哮起来，似乎有好转的趋势。

"Sounds as if she'd come clear," said Mellors.

“听起来有门儿。”梅勒斯说。

But Clifford had already jerked her into gear. She gave a sick lurch and ebbed weakly forwards.

但克利福德已经迫不及待地挂上了挡。它左右摇摆着，有气无力地向前挪动着。

"If I give her a push, she'll do it," said the keeper, going behind.

“我来推一把，她就会跑起来了。”守林人说着，来到轮椅后面。

"Keep off!" Snapped Clifford. "She'll do it by herself.” "But Clifford!" put in Connie from the bank, "you know it's too much for her. Why are you so obstinate!” Clifford was pale with anger. He jabbed at his levers. The chair gave a sort of scurry, reeled on a few more yards, and came to her end amid a particularly promising patch of bluebells.

“住手！”克利福德呵斥着。“她自己会走！”“可克利福德！”站在坡上的康妮插话道,“你清楚轮椅根本做不到。干嘛还要这么固执！”克利福德气得脸煞白。他猛拉操纵杆。轮椅疾行数码，依旧摇摆着，最终在一簇极为茂盛的风铃草中停住不动。

"She's done!” Said the keeper. "Not power enough." "She's been up here before," said Clifford coldly.

“没辙了！”守林人说。“马力不够。”“她以前能攀上这个坡。”克利福德冷冷地说。

"She won't do it this time," said the keeper.

“可这次却做不到。”守林人说。

Clifford did not reply. He began doing things with his engine, running her fast and slow as if to get some sort of tune out of her. The wood re-echoed with weird noises. Then he put her in gear with a jerk, having jerked off his brake.

克利福德没有回应。他又开始拨弄起引擎来，弄得它时快时慢，好像要演奏出抑扬顿挫的曲调。怪异的噪声在树林中回响。接着，他又猛地挂上档，同时松开刹车。

"You'll rip her inside out," murmured the keeper.

“你会把她的内脏扯出来的。”守林人喃喃地说。

The chair charged in a sick lurch sideways at the ditch.

轮椅迤逦歪斜，向路边的壕沟冲去。

"Clifford!" cried Connie, rushing forward.

“克利福德！”康妮高喊着，冲上前去。

But the keeper had got the chair by the rail. Clifford, however, putting on all his pressure, managed to steer into the riding, and with a strange noise the chair was fighting the hill. Mellors pushed steadily behind, and up she went, as if to retrieve herself.

但守林人早已抢先一步，抓住轮椅的横栏。尽管如此，克利福德也倾尽全身力气，掉转轮椅回到马道上。如今，它正诡异地轰鸣着，向坡上爬去。梅勒斯步履稳健，在后面推着，轮椅向上进发，一副要挽回颜面的模样。

"You see, she's doing it!" said Clifford, victorious, glancing over his shoulder.

“看吧，它干得多棒！”克利福德志得意满地说着，向身后瞥了一眼。

There he saw the keeper's face.

视线中出现的是守林人的面孔。

"Are you pushing her?" "She won't do it without.” "Leave her alone. I asked you not." "She won't do it.” "LET HER TRY!" snarled Clifford, with all his emphasis.

“你一直在推吗？”“不推它动弹不得。”“别推了。我告诉过你别推。”“它做不到。”“让它试试看！”克利福德吼道，声嘶力竭。

The keeper stood back: then turned to fetch his coat and gun. The chair seemed to strangle immediately. She stood inert. Clifford, seated a prisoner, was white with vexation. He jerked at the levers with his hand, his feet were no good. He got queer noises out of her. In savage impatience he moved little handles and got more noises out of her. But she would not budge. No, she would not budge. He stopped the engine and sat rigid with anger.

守林人退后一步，转身去取自己的外套和猎枪。轮椅仿佛立即窒息而亡。停在那里动也不动。克利福德像困于其间的囚徒，又气又恼，脸色苍白。他拼命拉动着操纵杆，但双脚却帮不上任何忙。轮椅发出的怪叫传入他的耳膜。狂躁的克利福德使劲推动着手柄，但只是让怪叫声愈发猛烈。可她就是不肯挪动半步。不，她就是不肯挪动半步。他熄灭引擎，气鼓鼓地僵坐在那里。

Constance sat on the bank arid looked at the wretched and trampled bluebells. "Nothing quite so lovely as an English spring." "I can do my share of ruling." "What we need to take up now is whips, not swords." "The ruling classes!" The keeper strode up with his coat and gun, Flossie cautiously at his heels. Clifford asked the man to do something or other to the engine. Connie, who understood nothing at all of the technicalities of motors, and who had had experience of breakdowns, sat patiently on the bank as if she were a cipher. The keeper lay on his stomach again. The ruling classes and the serving classes!

康斯坦斯坐在路旁，望着惨遭蹂躏的风铃草。“任什么也不如英格兰的春天这般秀美。”“我能尽到统治者的本分。”“我们需要掌控的，是皮鞭，而非刀剑。”“统治阶级！”守林人拎着外衣和猎枪，阔步走上山坡，弗洛西小心地跟在身后。克利福德吩咐他再试试看能否修好引擎。康妮虽说对发动机的原理半点不知，但也曾尝过半路抛锚的苦涩，只是耐心地坐在路沿儿上，好像她并不存在。守林人又一次趴在地上。这就是统治阶级和服务阶级的差别！

He got to his feet and said patiently: "Try her again, then." He spoke in a quiet voice, almost as if to a child.

他站起身来，耐心地劝诱着：“再来试试看吧。”他语调轻柔，几乎就像在哄孩子。

Clifford tried her, and Mellors stepped quickly behind and began to push. She was going, the engine doing about half the work, the man the rest.

克利福德再度发动引擎，梅勒斯快步退到后面，开始用手推。它再度启程，依靠引擎和人力的合作。

Clifford glanced round, yellow with anger.

克利福德回头发现真相，气得脸色蜡黄。

"Will you get off there!"

“你给我滚远点！”

The keeper dropped his hold at once, and Clifford added: "How shall I know what she is doing!"

守林人立刻松开双手，克利福德又吼道：“你多此一举，我怎么能知道她跑得怎么样！”

The man put his gun down and began to pull on his coat. He'd done.

守林人放下猎枪，开始穿外套。他的任务已经结束。

The chair began slowly to run backwards.

轮椅开始慢慢向后倒退。

"Clifford, your brake!" cried Connie.

“克利福德，快点刹车！”康妮喊道。

She, Mellors, and Clifford moved at once, Connie and the keeper jostling lightly. The chair stood. There was a moment of dead silence.

她，梅勒斯以及克利福德顿时慌乱起来，康妮和守林人轻轻地碰了一下。轮椅总算停住。四周瞬间陷入死寂。

"It's obvious I'm at everybody's mercy!" said Clifford.

“看来我只能任人摆布了！”克利福德叹道。

He was yellow with anger.

他的脸色依然蜡黄。

No one answered. Mellors was slinging his gun over his shoulder, his face queer and expressionless, save for an abstracted look of patience. The dog Flossie, standing on guard almost between her master's legs, moved uneasily, eyeing the chair with great suspicion and dislike, and very much perplexed between the three human beings. The TABLEAU VIVANT remained set among the squashed bluebells, nobody proffering a word.

没人回应。梅勒斯把猎枪耷拉在肩头，神态怪异，面无表情，只是显得有些心不在焉，勉为其难。而猎犬弗洛西则几乎是站在主人两腿之间，局促不安地来回动着，双眼紧盯着轮椅，露出怀疑和厌恶的神色。它被三个人围在当中，显得很是困惑。风铃草东倒西歪，三个人又都默不作声，构成一幅生动的图景。

"I expect she'll have to be pushed," said Clifford at last, with an affectation of sang froid.

“我想她还是需要推一把。”克利福德终于打破沉默，故作镇静地表态说。

No answer. Mellors'abstracted face looked as if he had heard nothing. Connie glanced anxiously at him. Clifford too glanced round.

没人回应。梅勒斯仍是那副漫不经心的表情，好像什么都没听到。康妮焦急地瞥了他一眼。克利福德也回头看了看。

"Do you mind pushing her home, Mellors!" he said in a cool superior tone. "I hope I have said nothing to offend you," he added, in a tone of dislike.

“梅勒斯，你介意把轮椅推回家吗？”他的语调异常冷漠，盛气凌人。“希望我刚才说的话没冒犯到你。”他补充说，但显然是心有不甘。

"Nothing at all, Sir Clifford! Do you want me to push that chair?" "If you please." The man stepped up to it: but this time it was without effect. The brake was jammed. They poked and pulled, and the keeper took off his gun and his coat once more. And now Clifford said never a word. At last the keeper heaved the back of the chair off the ground and, with an instantaneous push of his foot, tried to loosen the wheels. He failed, the chair sank. Clifford was clutching the sides. The man gasped with the weight.

“怎么会呢，克利福德爵士！您需要我推轮椅吗？”“劳你大驾。”守林人走到轮椅旁边，但这次却没能推动。刹车被卡住了。他们又是推，又是拉，守林人再次摘掉猎枪，脱去外衣。现在沉默不语的变成克利福德。最后，守林人把轮椅后端提离地面，猛踹一脚，想要把轮子踢松。这样做没有见效，轮椅重新落回地面。克利福德牢牢抓住轮椅两侧。守林人不堪重负，累得呼呼直喘。

"Don't do it!" cried Connie to him.

“别那样！”康妮对他喊道。

"If you'll pull the wheel that way, so!" he said to her, showing her how.

“要是你来那样拽一下轮子，就大功告成了！”他对她说，演示着要怎么做。

"No! You mustn't lift it! You'll strain yourself," she said, flushed now with anger.

“不要！别再抬了！你会扭伤自己的。”她说，又气又急，脸涨得通红。

But he looked into her eyes and nodded. And she had to go and take hold of the wheel, ready. He heaved and she tugged, and the chair reeled.

但他凝视着她的眼睛，点头示意。她只好照他的话做，紧紧扶住轮椅，做好准备。他将轮椅提起，而她则使劲儿向前拖，轮椅终于晃动起来。

"For God's sake!" cried Clifford in terror.

“多亏上帝保佑！”克利福德惊叫道。

But it was all right, and the brake was off. The keeper put a stone under the wheel, and went to sit on the bank, his heart beat and his face white with the effort, semi-conscious.

但轮椅终于恢复常态，刹车也松开了。守林人拿块石头垫在轮子后面，走到路旁坐下来。刚才一番折腾让他心脏狂跳，脸色苍白，头晕目眩。

Connie looked at him, and almost cried with anger. There was a pause and a dead silence. She saw his hands trembling on his thighs.

康妮看着他，气得几乎喊出声来。再度陷入沉默，空气仿佛凝滞。他的双手搁在大腿上，正瑟瑟发抖，这些她都看在眼里。

"Have you hurt yourself?" she asked, going to him.

“你没受伤吧？”她走上前去，问道。

"No. No!" He turned away almost angrily.

“没有。没有！”他背过脸去，略带怒意。

There was dead silence. The back of Clifford's fair head did not move. Even the dog stood motionless. The sky had clouded over.

沉默再度降临。克利福德金黄色的后脑勺并未转动。甚至连弗洛西也杵在原地没动。天空已被云层遮住。

At last he sighed, and blew his nose on his red handkerchief.

最后，他叹了口气，用红色手帕擤着鼻子。

"That pneumonia took a lot out of me," he said.

“那场肺炎让我的体力大不如前。”他说。

No one answered. Connie calculated the amount of strength it must have taken to heave up that chair and the bulky Clifford: too much, far too much! If it hadn't killed him!

没人搭话。康妮估量着，要把轮椅和笨重的克利福德提起来，要花多大力气，太大了，大的不得了！但愿他不会因此丢掉性命！

He rose, and again picked up his coat, slinging it through the handle of the chair.

他站起来，再次拿过外衣，搭在轮椅的扶手上。

"Are you ready, then, Sir Clifford?" "When you are!"

“准备好了吗，克利福德爵士？”“就等你了！”

He stooped and took out the scotch, then put his weight against the chair. He was paler than Connie had ever seen him: and more absent. Clifford was a heavy man: and the hill was steep. Connie stepped to the keeper's side. "I'm going to push too!" she said.

他俯身把石头拿开，用尽全力推动轮椅。康妮从未见他如此苍白，如此六神无主。克利福德本就沉重，山坡又那样陡峭。康妮走到守林人身旁。“我也来推！”她说。

And she began to shove with a woman's turbulent energy of anger. The chair went faster. Clifford looked round.

她奋力推着，调动起女人狂乱的愤怒的能量。轮椅前进得更快了。克利福德回头看看。

"Is that necessary?" he said.

“有这个必要吗？”他问。

"Very! Do you want to kill the man! If you'd let the motor work while it would—” But she did not finish. She was already panting. She slackened off a little, for it was surprisingly hard work.

“当然！你想要人家的命呀！如果你没把马达弄坏，情况就……”但她没有把话言明。她已经上气不接下气。她稍稍松了些劲儿，这确实是件重体力活。

"Ay! slower!" said the man at her side, with a faint smile of his eyes.

“是呀！慢点儿！”身旁的守林人提醒道，眼中含着淡淡的笑意。

"Are you sure you've not hurt yourself?" she said fiercely.

“你确定没有伤到自己吗？”她急切地问道。

He shook his head. She looked at his smallish, short, alive hand, browned by the weather. It was the hand that caressed her. She had never even looked at it before. It seemed so still, like him, with a curious inward stillness that made her want to clutch it, as if she could not reach it. All her soul suddenly swept towards him: he was so silent, and out of reach! And he felt his limbs revive. Shoving with his left hand, he laid his right on her round white wrist, softly enfolding her wrist, with a caress. And the flame of strength went down his back and his loins, reviving him. And she bent suddenly and kissed his hand. Meanwhile the back of Clifford's head was held sleek and motionless, just in front of them.

他摇摇头。她留意着他的手，短小但却活跃，因风吹日晒早已变成褐色。正是这手抚摸过她。她之前从未如此端详过它。它像主人那般安静，有种奇妙的内敛与沉静，让她禁不住想紧握它，仿佛永远也无法触及。她整个的灵魂都扑在他的身上，他如此静默，如此遥不可及！而他则感觉四肢的力量渐渐恢复。他左手推着轮椅，右手则搭上她浑圆白皙的手腕，温柔地握着，抚弄着。力量的火焰顺着后背和胯下游走，他再度变得精力充沛。她蓦地弯下腰，亲吻着他的手背。与此同时，克利福德那光滑的后脑勺依然动也没动，直竖在两人前方。

At the top of the hill they rested, and Connie was glad to let go. She had had fugitive dreams of friendship between these two men: one her husband, the other the father of her child. Now she saw the screaming absurdity of her dreams. The two males were as hostile as fire and water. They mutually exterminated one another. And she realized for the first time what a queer subtle thing hate is. For the first time, she had consciously and definitely hated Clifford, with vivid hate: as if he ought to be obliterated from the face of the earth. And it was strange, how free and full of life it made her feel, to hate him and to admit it fully to herself.— "Now I've hated him, I shall never be able to go on living with him," came the thought into her mind.

他俩在坡顶歇了歇脚，能够松开双手，康妮很是开心。她曾经做着不切实际的美梦，幻象这两个男人能够友好相处，一个是自己的丈夫，另一个则是自己孩子的父亲。但现在，她深切地认识到，这梦想是多么地荒谬。这两个男人简直势同水火。他们恨不得置对方于死地。她初次体会到仇恨是种多么微妙的情感。她也初次认识到自己有多么憎恨克利福德，恨意深到巴不得他从地球表面消失。奇怪的是，这种恨意反倒让她觉得自己那样自由，那样充满活力，痛恨他，并且彻底承认自己的仇恨——“现在我已对他充满恨意，再也无法与他继续生活下去。”她心里这样想着。

On the level the keeper could push the chair alone. Clifford made a little conversation with her, to show his complete composure: about Aunt Eva, who was at Dieppe, and about Sir Malcolm, who had written to ask would Connie drive with him in his small car, to Venice, or would she and Hilda go by train.

来到平地上，守林人可以独自推动轮椅。克利福德有一茬没一茬地跟康妮闲聊，以显示自己早已完全冷静下来。他说到伊娃姑妈，她去了法国迪耶普港，聊起马尔科姆爵士，他写信来问康妮究竟打算如何去威尼斯，搭他的汽车，还是跟希尔达一道乘火车。

"I'd much rather go by train," said Connie. "I don't like long motor drives, especially when there's dust. But I shall see what Hilda wants.” "She will want to drive her own car, and take you with her," he said.

“我更想坐火车。”康妮说。“我讨厌乘汽车长途跋涉，尤其是碰到尘土飞扬的天气。不过，我还是要看看希尔达的想法。”“她准想自己开车去，顺便捎着你。”他说。

"Probably!— I must help up here. You've no idea how heavy this chair is.” She went to the back of the chair, and plodded side by side with the keeper, shoving up the pink path. She did not care who saw.

“很有可能！——我得去帮忙了。你可不晓得这轮椅有多重。”她来到轮椅后面，与守林人并肩而行，迈着沉重的脚步，将轮椅推上粉色的小径。她毫不在意谁会看到。

"Why not let me wait, and fetch Field? He is strong enough for the job," said Clifford.

“干嘛不去把菲尔德叫来？我在这儿等会就行。他身体强壮，干这种活再合适不过。”克利福德提议道。

"It's so near," she panted.

“很快就到了。”她气喘吁吁地说。

But both she and Mellors wiped the sweat from their faces when they came to the top. It was curious, but this bit of work together had brought them much closer than they had been before. "Thanks so much, Mellors," said Clifford, when they were at the house door. "I must get a different sort of motor, that's all. Won't you go to the kitchen and have a meal? It must be about time.” "Thank you, Sir Clifford. I was going to my mother for dinner today, Sunday." "As you like." Mellors slung into his coat, looked at Connie, saluted, and was gone. Connie, furious, went upstairs.

不过，抵达坡顶时，她和梅勒斯都已汗流满面。但很奇怪，此次通力协作将两人的距离拉得更近。“非常感谢你，梅勒斯。”三人来到屋门前时，克利福德说。“我只好再换台发动机了，除此之外，别无他法。去厨房吃点什么吧。差不多是开饭的时间了。”“谢谢，克利福德爵士。我要去母亲那里吃饭，今天是星期日。”“随你的便。”梅勒斯套上外衣，抬头看着康妮，行了个礼，转身离去。康妮气鼓鼓地上了楼。

At lunch she could not contain her feeling.

午餐时，她抑制不住自己的情绪。

"Why are you so abominably inconsiderate, Clifford?" she said to him.

“克利福德，为什么你那么过分，根本不替他人着想？”康妮对他说。

"Of whom?"

“不替谁着想？”

"Of the keeper! If that is what you call ruling classes, I'm sorry for you.” "Why?" "A man who's been ill, and isn't strong! My word, if I were the serving classes, I'd let you wait for service. I'd let you whistle.” "I quite believe it." "If he'd been sitting in a chair with paralysed legs, and behaved as you behaved, what would you have done for him?” "My dear evangelist, this confusing of persons and personalities is in bad taste." "And your nasty, sterile want of common sympathy is in the worst taste imaginable. NOBLESSE OBLIGEN! You and your ruling class!" "And to what should it oblige me? To have a lot of unnecessary emotions about my game-keeper? I refuse. I leave it all to my evangelist.” "As if he weren't a man as much as you are, my word!”

“守林人！如果这就是所谓统治阶级的所作所为，我真替你感到羞愧。”“为什么？”“他病体刚愈，还很虚弱！要是换成我做服务阶级，准会让你瞪眼等着。任你怎样呼叫。”“我完全相信你做得出来。”“如果他两腿残疾，坐在轮椅里，态度像你那般颐指气使，你会怎样对待他呢？”“我亲爱的传教士，将地位和性格迥然相异的人混为一谈，可是个糟糕的嗜好。”“可像你这样卑劣无耻，连最基本的同情心都没有，才是糟糕透顶，不可理喻的。位高而责重！你和你的统治阶级！”“我该负担怎样的责任呢？毫无必要地过分体恤自己雇的守林人？我不会这么做。这种事还是由传教士代劳为好。”“好像他跟你截然不同，根本不属于人类，天呢！”

"My game-keeper to boot, and I pay him two pounds a week and give him a house.” "Pay him! What do you think you pay for, with two pounds a week and a house?" "His services." "Bah! I would tell you to keep your two pounds a week and your house." "Probably he would like to: but can't afford the luxury!” "You, and RULE!" she said. "You don't rule, don't flatter yourself. You have only got more than your share of the money, and make people work for you for two pounds a week, or threaten them with starvation. Rule! What do you give forth of rule? Why, you re dried up! You only bully with your money, like any Jew or any Schieber!”

“总之，他是我雇的守林人，每周挣我两英镑，还住着我的房子。”“挣你的钱！依你看，你每周付给他两英镑，还给他房子住，为的到底是什么？”“只因他为我效劳。”“呸！我劝你还是省着每周那两英镑，留着那间房子吧。”“或许他也很想这么说，可只是舍不得放弃这份美差！”“你，还有你的统治！”她说。“你算什么统治者？别自吹自擂了。你只不过多几个臭钱，能每周付两英镑，差遣别人给你干活，或是以饿死相要挟。统治！你的统治带来了什么好处？怎么，没话说了吧？你只不过依仗着有钱，就恣意胡为，这种行径跟犹太人和德国佬有什么不同？”

"You are very elegant in your speech, Lady Chatterley!" "I assure you, you were very elegant altogether out there in the wood. I was utterly ashamed of you. Why, my father is ten times the human being you are: you GENTLEMAN!” He reached and rang the bell for Mrs. Bolton. But he was yellow at the gills.

“这番演说真是精彩绝伦，查泰莱夫人！”“我敢担保，你在林中的演讲才算得上绝妙呢。我真替你害臊。哎呀，说到待人以善，我父亲比你胜强十倍，你这位高贵的绅士！”他按铃召唤博尔顿太太。可两颊已经气得蜡黄。

She went up to her room, furious, saying to herself: "Him and buying people! Well, he doesn't buy me, and therefore there's no need for me to stay with him. Dead fish of a gentleman, with his celluloid soul! And how they take one in, with their manners and their mock wistfulness and gentleness. They've got about as much feeling as celluloid has.” She made her plans for the night, and determined to get Clifford off her mind. She didn't want to hate him. She didn't want to be mixed up very intimately with him in any sort of feeling. She wanted him not to know anything at all about herself: and especially, not to know anything about her feeling for the keeper. This squabble of her attitude to the servants was an old one. He found her too familiar, she found him stupidly insentient, tough and indiarubbery where other people were concerned.

她火冒三丈，上楼回到房间，嘴里还念叨着：“那家伙，只知道用钱买人！幸亏，他没有买下我，所以我也没有义务跟他继续过下去。死鱼般的绅士，明胶做成的灵魂！他们最擅长的就是行骗，装出温文尔雅、多愁善感、和蔼可亲的样子。他们跟明胶没什么不同，根本没有任何感情。”她谋划着晚上如何出去，决定将克利福德抛诸脑后。她并不想恨他。她不想在感情上跟他有任何瓜葛。她不想他知晓自己的事情，尤其是自己对守林人的感情。因为她对待仆从的态度，两人早就争吵过多次。他觉得她太容易亲近，她认为他对其他人过于无情，麻木不仁地就像块橡胶。

She went downstairs calmly, with her old demure bearing, at dinner-time. He was still yellow at the gills: in for one of his liver bouts, when he was really very queer.— He was reading a French book.

晚餐时间已到，她气定神闲地走下楼来，保持着旧日端庄娴静的仪态。而他两腮的颜色依然没有改变，他的确很不舒服时，就势必遭受肝火的折磨——他正在读一本法语书。

"Have you ever read Proust?" he asked her.

“你读过普鲁斯特（注：1871-1922，法国作家）的作品吗？”他问道。

"I've tried, but he bores me.” "He's really very extraordinary.” "Possibly! But he bores me: all that sophistication! He doesn't have feelings, he only has streams of words about feelings. I'm tired of self-important mentalities.” "Would you prefer self-important animalities?” "Perhaps! But one might possibly get something that wasn't self-important.” "Well, I like Proust's subtlety and his well-bred anarchy.” "It makes you very dead, really." "There speaks my evangelical little wife." They were at it again, at it again! But she couldn't help fighting him. He seemed to sit there like a skeleton, sending out a skeleton's cold grizzly will against her. Almost she could feel the skeleton clutching her and pressing her to its cage of ribs. He too was really up in arms: and she was a little afraid of him.

“读过，可实在太无趣了。”“他的确非常优秀。”“可能吧！但却让我感到很沉闷，通篇都是强词夺理的语句！他的作品缺乏感情色彩，只是将描写感情的语句堆叠起来。我受够了这种妄自尊大的心态。”“你宁愿选择自以为是的兽性？”“或许吧！还是要点不那么自以为是的东西好。”“呵，普鲁斯特的作品充满微妙的情感，以及高雅的无政府主义情结，我欣赏的正是这些。”“那会让你变得死气沉沉，此话当真。”“我的小传教士夫人又开始讲道了。”他俩再度开始争吵，吵个没完没了！但她就是忍不住，非要跟他争辩。他坐在那里，就像具骷髅，向她发出骷髅冰冷阴郁的意志。她觉得这骷髅快要将她攫住，塞进自己肋骨间的空洞里。他也摆出应战的架势，而她还真惧他三分。

She went upstairs as soon as possible, and went to bed quite early. But at half past nine she got up, and went outside to listen. There was no sound. She slipped on a dressing-gown and went downstairs. Clifford and Mrs. Bolton were playing cards, gambling. They would probably go on until midnight.

她抽冷子脱了身，返回楼上，早早就上床休息。可九点半的时候，她悄悄起身，踱到房间外面，听着动静。声息皆无。她穿好睡衣，轻手轻脚地下了楼。克利福德和博尔顿太太正在赌牌。他俩可能要继续到午夜时分。

Connie returned to her room, threw her pyjamas on the tossed bed, put on a thin tennis-dress and over that a woollen day-dress, put on rubber tennis-shoes, and then a light coat. And she was ready. If she met anybody, she was just going out for a few minutes. And in the morning, when she came in again, she would just have been for a little walk in the dew, as she fairly often did before breakfast. For the rest, the only danger was that someone should go into her room during the night. But that was most unlikely: not one chance in a hundred.

康妮回到卧室，把睡衣丢在床上，穿上一件单薄的网球裙，外面套着毛料长裙，蹬上胶底网球鞋，然后披上风衣。她已经做好准备。要是遇到什么人，就说要出去遛个弯。若早晨回来的时候被发现，就说刚刚趁着朝露散步回来，她早餐前经常如此。至于其他的，唯一的危险就是有人半夜来她的房间。但这根本就不可能，连百分之一的可能性都没有。

Betts had not locked up. He fastened up the house at ten o'clock, and unfastened it again at seven in the morning. She slipped out silently and unseen. There was a half-moon shining, enough to make a little light in the world, not enough to show her up in her dark-grey coat. She walked quickly across the park, not really in the thrill of the assignation, but with a certain anger and rebellion burning in her heart. It was not the right sort of heart to take to a love-meeting. But À La Guerre Comme À La Guerre!

贝茨还没锁好门。他通常十点锁门，清晨七点再打开。她蹑足潜踪，溜出家门，没被任何人发现。弯月闪烁着银光，足以令世界微明，但却不会暴露身穿深灰色外套的她。她快步穿过园林，内心并未感到幽会的兴奋之情，反而燃烧着愤怒与反抗的火焰。这种心情并不适于前去偷情。但是只有尽其所能了！