to keep him there inside her when his crisis was over. And there he was generous and curiously potent; he stayed firm inside her, giving to her, while she was active...wildly, passionately active, coming to her own crisis.

但很快，她就学会掌控他，当高潮过后，仍把他留在体内。他也积极配合，始终保持充盈状态，在她的体内坚挺不倒，将整个身体交托给她，任她摇摆……狂热地摇摆，疯狂地摇摆，直到她的高潮来临。

And as he felt the frenzy of her achieving her own orgasmic satisfaction from his hard, erect passivity, he had a curious sense of pride and satisfaction.

他感受到了自己顺从的坚挺给她带来的高潮的极度快感，莫名的自豪和愉悦油然而生。

"Ah, how good!" she whispered tremulously, and she became quite still, clinging to him. And he lay there in his own isolation, but somehow proud.

“啊，太美妙了！”她喃喃道，身子抖动着。一会儿后就安静下来，紧紧依偎着他。而他平躺着，享受着孤寂之中的些许自豪。

He stayed that time only the three days, and to Clifford was exactly the same as on the first evening; to Connie also. There was no breaking down his external man.

那次他只逗留了三天，在克利福德看来，他跟第一天晚上没什么两样，康妮也没有看出任何破绽。他的表面功夫做得可算无懈可击。

He wrote to Connie with the same plaintive melancholy note as ever, sometimes witty, and touched with a queer, sexless affection. A kind of hopeless affection he seemed to feel for her, and the essential remoteness remained the same. He was hopeless at the very core of him, and he wanted to be hopeless. He rather hated hope. "UNE IMMENSE ESPÉRANCE A TRAVERSÉ LA TERRE”, he read somewhere, and his comment was: “—AND IT'S DARNED-WELL DROWNED EVERYTHING WORTH HAVING.” Connie never really understood him, but, in her way, she loved him. And all the time she felt the reflection of his hopelessness in her. She couldn't quite, quite love in hopelessness. And he, being hopeless, couldn't ever quite love at all.

他给康妮写信时，哀怨忧郁的口吻一如既往，时而点缀着机智，某种怪异的情感掺杂其中，却不带有任何情欲的成分。他似乎对彼此间的感情并不抱希望，因此从来不会表现得过于亲近。在内心深处，他从不相信希望的存在，也不愿与希望扯上任何干系。他甚至对希望怀有厌恶之情。他曾在某处读到过这样的诗句：“希望的狂潮席卷大地。”而他给出的评价则是：“它将一切有价值的东西尽数淹没。”康妮从未真正了解过他，但却以自己的方式爱着他。她始终有这样的感觉，即他对这段感情不抱希望。她却无法在希望无存的状态下，全身心地去爱对方。而他，因为与希望绝缘，自然也从未能够深爱过某人。

So they went on for quite a time, writing, and meeting occasio