e door, and Hilda sat in his seat, with the back to the wall, against the window corner.

康妮坐在门旁，希尔达坐在他常坐的那把椅子上，背靠着墙，正对着窗角。

"That is his chair," said Connie softly. And Hilda rose as if it had burnt her.

“那是他的椅子。”康妮轻声说。希尔达猛地站起身来，好像已经被椅子灼伤。

"Sit yer still, sit yer still! Ta'e ony cheer as yo'n a mind to, none of us is th'big bear," he said, with complete equanimity.

“坐着吧，坐着吧！俺家就这么一把椅子，恁不介意地话就坐吧，反正咱们都不像熊瞎子体格那么庞大。”他完全泰然自若地说着。

And he brought Hilda a glass, and poured her beer first from the blue jug.

他递给希尔达一只玻璃杯，用蓝色罐子先为她斟满啤酒。

"As for cigarettes," he said, "I've got none, but 'appen you've got your own. I dunna smoke, mysen. Shall y'eat summat?" he turned direct to Connie. "Shall t'eat a smite o'summat, if I bring it thee? Tha can usually do wi'a bite.” He spoke the vernacular with a curious calm assurance, as if he were the landlord of the Inn.

“至于香烟，”他说，“俺这儿没有，可或许恁自己带着。俺不抽烟。吃点啥？”他转过脸问康妮。“要吃点啥？俺给恁拿。恁通常都会吃一点。”他说土话时，显得那样淡然自若，好像自己是这家乡间旅栈的老板。

"What is th