he tea-table.” "Oh, there's nothing sacrosanct about a silver tea-pot," said Connie.

“我回来得有些晚吧，克利福德？”她说着，在托盘前站定，搁下采来的水仙，顺手取过茶叶盒，帽子和围巾都没来得及摘掉。“很抱歉！可你为什么不让博尔顿太太给你泡茶呢？”“我就没这样想过。”他语带讽刺地说。“我觉得茶桌上的事她无法胜任。”“啊，区区银茶壶，也没什么神圣之处。”康妮说。

He glanced up at her curiously.

他诧异地扫了她一眼。

"What did you do all afternoon?" he said.

“你整个下午都做什么去了？”他问。

"Walked and sat in a sheltered place. Do you know there are still berries on the big holly-tree?” She took off her scarf, but not her hat, and sat down to make tea. The toast would certainly be leathery. She put the tea-cosy over the tea-pot, and rose to get a little glass for her violets. The poor flowers hung over, limp on their stalks.

“散步，然后坐在背风处小憩。你知道么？大冬青树还结有果实呢。”她解下围巾，但没摘帽子，坐下来沏茶。烤面包肯定变得硬而不脆了。她给茶壶套上保护套，站起来拿过一个小玻璃瓶，准备用来插紫罗兰。那些可怜的花在花茎上耷拉着脑袋，无精打采。

"They'll revive again!" she said, putting them before him in their glass for him to smell.

“它们会振作起来的！”她边说，边把花瓶端到丈夫跟前让他闻。

"Sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes," he quoted.

“比朱诺的眉眼还要可爱。”他引用莎翁的名句。（注：这句话出自莎士比亚