39;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