e cottage and see.

原来如此！他仍未出现。他是有意逃避。不然或许是出了什么岔子。或许她该进屋去看个究竟。

But she was born to wait. She opened the hut with her key. It was all tidy, the corn put in the bin, the blankets folded on the shelf, the straw neat in a corner; a new bundle of straw. The hurricane lamp hung on a nail. The table and chair had been put back where she had lain.

但她生来就注定要等待。她用钥匙打开屋门。屋里依旧整饬，谷物归仓，毯子叠好搁在架上，新添的一捆稻草齐整地摆放在角落处。钉子上挂着防风灯。桌椅重新归位，那是她曾经躺过的地方。

She sat down on a stool in the doorway. How still everything was! The fine rain blew very softly, filmily, but the wind made no noise. Nothing made any sound. The trees stood like powerful beings, dim, twilit, silent and alive. How alive everything was!

她坐在门边的凳子上。一切都那样寂静！轻柔的雨丝纷纷飘落，织成薄幕，但听不到半点风声。万物无声。屹立不摇的树木好似孔武有力的勇士，轮廓模糊，沉默不语，但却充满生机。一切都那样生机勃发！

Night was drawing near again; she would have to go. He was avoiding her.

夜幕再度拉近，她得回去了。他分明是在躲着她。

But suddenly he came striding into the clearing, in his black oilskin jacket like a chauffeur, shining with wet. He glanced quickly at the hut, half-saluted, then veered aside and went on to the coops. There he crouched in silence, looking carefully at everything, then carefully shutting the hens and chicks up safe against the night.

但突然，他大踏步走进空地，身上那件黑色油布外衣像是司机的行头，上面落满雨水，闪闪发亮。他的目光扫过小屋，微施一礼，然后转身向鸡舍走去。他默然蹲下身子，仔细检查一番，然后小心翼翼地关好笼子，确保鸡妈妈和她们的宝宝一夜无忧。

At last he came slowly towards her. She still sat on her stool. He stood before her under the porch.

最后，他缓步向她靠近。她仍坐在凳子上。他来到门廊下，站在她的面前。

"You come then," he said, using the intonation of the dialect.

“恁来了。”他此时用的是方言。

"Yes," she said, looking up at him. "You're late! "Ay!" he replied, looking away into the wood.

“是的。”她应道，抬头望着他。“你来晚了！”“是呀！”他应道，转头向林中张望。

She rose slowly, drawing aside her stool.

她慢慢站起身，把凳子拉到一旁。

"Did you want to come in?" she asked.

“你要进来吗？”她问。

He looked down at her shrewdly.

他垂头看着她，两眼露出狡黠的目光。

"Won't folks be thinkin' some, you comin' here every night?" he said.

“恁每晚都来，不会有人起疑吗？”他问。

"Why?" She looked up at him, at a loss. "I said I'd come. Nobody k