tened, however, so that she had to ring. Mrs. Bolton opened.

紧赶慢赶，她到家时，还是发觉门已闩紧，只能恼怒地按响门铃。开门的是博尔顿太太。

"Why there you are, your Ladyship! I was beginning to wonder if you'd gone lost!" she said a little roguishly. "Sir Clifford hasn't asked for you, though; he's got Mr. Linley in with him, talking over something. It looks as if he'd stay to dinner, doesn't it, my Lady?” "It does rather," said Connie.

“哎呦，您可回来了，夫人！我正在想您是不是迷路了！”她半开玩笑地说，“不过，克利福德爵士还没问起过您，他正和林利先生商量事儿呢。看来他会在这儿吃晚餐，您说是吧，夫人？”“可能吧。”康妮应道。

"Shall I put dinner back a quarter of an hour? That would give you time to dress in comfort." "Perhaps you'd better.” Mr. Linley was the general manager of the collieries, an elderly man from the north, with not quite enough punch to suit Clifford; not up to post-war conditions, nor post-war colliers either, with their 'ca'canny'creed. But Connie liked Mr. Linley, though she was glad to be spared the toadying of his wife.

“是否推迟一刻钟开饭？这样您有时间惬意地穿戴打扮。”“或许是个好主意。”林利先生是矿场的总经理，已过盛年的北方佬，遇事总是优柔寡断，得不到克利福德的赏识。他不懂与时俱进，适应战后的新形势，和那些矿工一样不知变通，谨小慎微。不过，康妮很喜欢林利先生，虽然她对林利太太的阿谀逢迎很是不悦，但好在那女人没来，也免去了她的不快。

Linley stayed to dinner, and Connie was the hostess men liked so much, so modest, yet so attentive and aware, with big, wide blue eyes arid a soft repose that sufficiently hid what she was really thinking. Connie had played this woman so much, it was almost second nature to her; but still, decidedly second. Yet it was curious how everything disappeared from her consciousness while she played it.

林利先生果然留下来用晚饭。康妮这种主妇深得异性青睐，她毫无盛气凌人的架子，对人关照无微不至，又深谙世故。那双天蓝色的大眼睛，温柔沉静的神态，总能恰如其分地将自己的心事隐藏起来。康妮将女主人的角色扮得惟妙惟肖，那几乎成为她的第二天性，但终归是第二。但奇怪的是，她饰演这角色时，总是不知不觉地进入忘我的状态。

She waited patiently till she could go upstairs and think her own thoughts. She was always waiting, it seemed to be her FORTE.

她耐心等待着，到时就可以上楼去，思考自己的事情。她总在等待，似乎那已经成为她的长项。

Once in her room, however, she felt still vague and confused. She didn't know what to think. What sort of a man was he, really? Did he really like her? N