附满煤尘，好似厄日天空降下的黑色甘露。

Well, there it was: fated like the rest of things! It was rather awful, but why kick? You couldn't kick it away. It just went on. Life, like all the rest! On the low dark ceiling of cloud at night red blotches burned and quavered, dappling and swelling and contracting, like burns that give pain. It was the furnaces. At first they fascinated Connie with a sort of horror; Then she got used to them. And in the morning it rained.

没错，事实就是如此，一切都是命中注定！虽然令人生畏，但抗争又有什么意义呢？摆脱命运的束缚如同痴人说梦。它仍会循路而行。生活也同样如此！夜晚黑压压的低矮云层中，燃烧着的斑驳的红点不断颤动，时而膨胀，时而收缩，如同让人疼痛难忍的灼伤。那是矿区炼煤的高炉。起初，康妮曾因此被某种恐惧攫住，但后来也渐渐习惯了这一切。早晨的时候，天下起了雨来。

Clifford professed to like Wragby better than London. This country had a grim will of its own, and the people had guts. Connie wondered what else they had: certainly neither eyes nor minds. The people were as haggard, shapeless, and dreary as the countryside, and as unfriendly. Only there was something in their deep-mouthed slurring of the dialect, and the thresh-thresh of t