her, his hands dangling between his knees.

“恁走以前，哪晚来俺家过夜，咋样？”他问，扬起眉毛望着她，双手耷拉在膝间。

"Sholl ter?" she echoed, teasing.

“咋样？”她模仿着他的话，揶揄着。

He smiled. "Ay, sholl ter?" he repeated.

他笑了。“是呀，咋样啊？”他重复道。

"Ay!" she said, imitating the dialect sound.

“是呀！”她学着那土腔土调。

"Yi!" he said.

“咦！”他说。

"Yi!" she repeated.

“咦！”她重复道。

"An' slaip wi' me," he said. "It needs that. When sholt come?" "When sholl I?" she said.

“和俺睡一宿。”他说，“一定要来。啥时候来？”“我啥时候来？” 她说。

"Nay," he said, "tha canna do't. When sholt come then?” " 'Appen Sunday," she said.

“不对，”他说，“恁学得不像。啥时候来呢？”“兴许礼拜天。”她说。

" 'Appen a'Sunday! Ay!” He laughed at her quickly.

“兴许是礼拜天！是呀！”他瞬间朝她展开笑颜。

"Nay, tha canna," he protested.

“不对，恁学得不像。”他抗议道。

"Why canna I?" she asked.

“为什么不像？”她问。

第十三章

On Sunday Clifford wanted to go into the wood. It was a lovely morning, the pear-blossom and plum had suddenly appeared in the world in a wonder of white here and there.

时值周日，克利福德想去林中散散心。清晨，风和日煦，梨花李花陡然降世，满眼白色，令人叹为观止。

It was cruel for Clifford, while the world bloomed, to have to be helped from chair to bath-chair. But he had forgotten, and even seemed to have a certain conceit of himself in his lameness. Connie still suffered, having to lift his inert legs into place. Mrs. Bolton did it now, or Field.

正值百花争艳之时，克利福德仍需别人施以援手，才能从家用轮椅换到电动轮椅上，这样的现实的确残酷。但他早已将此遗忘，甚至对自己的残废之躯滋生出自满的情绪。目睹别人把丈夫那毫无知觉的双腿搬过去，放到合适的位置，康妮心里仍感到难受。如今，这差事由博尔顿太太或者菲尔德代劳。

She waited for him at the top of the drive, at the edge of the screen of beeches. His chair came puffing along with a sort of valetudinarian slow importance. As he joined his wife he said: "Sir Clifford on his foaming steed!" "Snorting, at least!" She laughed.

她在车道顶端等他，两棵山毛榉树投下的阴影堪堪将她遮住。轮椅发动起来，噗噗响着，可行进速度如同久病之人那样缓慢。他来到妻子身边时说：“克利福德爵士跨乘唾沫四溅的骏马！”“至少是喷吐鼻息的骏马！”她笑着说。

He stopped and looked round at the facade of the long, low old brown house.

他停住轮椅，回望那座狭长低矮的褐色老屋。

"Wragby doesn't wink an eyelid!” He said. "But then why should it! I ride upon the achievements of the mind of man, and that beats a horse." "I suppose it do