“很遗憾我们没法拥有自己的儿子。”她说。

He looked at her steadily, with his full, pale-blue eyes.

他那淡蓝色的双眸目不转睛地注视着她。

"It would almost be a good thing if you had a child by another man, he said. "If we brought it up at Wragby, it would belong to us and to the place. I don't believe very intensely in fatherhood. If we had the child to rear, it would be our own, and it would carry on. Don't you think it's worth considering?” Connie looked up at him at last. The child, her child, was just an "it" to him. It...it...it! "But what about the other man?" she asked.

“如果你和其他男人生个孩子，也算是个不错的主意。”他说。“只要我们在拉格比将它养育成人，它就会属于我们，属于这片土地。我对血脉传承不太感冒。只要我们将它养大，它就是我们的孩子，让查泰莱的姓氏得以延续。难道你不认为这值得考虑么？”康妮终于抬起头，望着眼前这个男人。孩子，她的孩子，对于他而言，只是“它”而已，跟没有生命的东西无异。它……只不过是件工具……延续香火的工具！“可那个男人怎么办？”她问。

"Does it matter very much? Do these things really affect us very deeply?... You had that lover in Germany...what is it now? Nothing almost. It seems to me that it isn't these little acts and little connexions we make in our lives that matter so very much. They pass away, and where are they? Where… Where are the snows of yesteryear?... It's what endures through one's life that matters; my own life matters to me, in its long continuance and development. But what do the occasional connexions matter? And the occasional sexual connexions especially! If people don't exaggerate them ridiculously, they pass like the mating of birds. And so they should. What does it matter? It's the life-long companionship that matters. It's the living together from day to day, not the sleeping together once or twice. You and I are married, no matter what happens to us. We have the habit of each other. And habit, to my thinking, is more vital than any occasional excitement. The long, slow, enduring thing...that's what we live by...not the occasional spasm of any sort. Little by little, living together, two people fall into a sort of unison, they vibrate so intricately to one another. That's the real secret of marriage,