第六章（第8/9页）

"Lady Chatterley!" he said. "Will you come in?" His manner was so perfectly easy and good, she stepped over the threshold into the rather dreary little room.

“查泰莱夫人！”他说，“请进。”他的举止大方得体，彬彬有礼，她迈过门槛，踏入这间颇为阴郁的小屋。

"I only called with a message from Sir Clifford," she said in her soft, rather breathless voice.

“克利福德爵士让我给你捎个口信。”她语调轻柔，但呼吸急促。

The man was looking at her with those blue, all-seeing eyes of his, which made her turn her face aside a little. He thought her comely, almost beautiful, in her shyness, and he took command of the situation himself at once.

那男人凝视着她，那双蓝眼睛似乎能够洞察一切，她感觉有些害羞，微微别过脸去。他觉得含羞的她标致可爱，几乎称得上美艳动人，他立刻就掌握了主动。

"Would you care to sit down?" he asked, presuming she would not. The door stood open.

“请坐。”他说，心里清楚她不会坐。门是敞开着的。

"No thanks! Sir Clifford wondered if you would... and she delivered her message, looking unconsciously into his eyes again. And now his eyes looked warm and kind, particularly to a woman, wonderfully warm, and kind, and at ease.

“不了，多谢！克利福德想让你……”她传完口信，又不自觉地望向他的双眸。他的眼神温暖和善，对于异性，更是格外热情亲切，没有半点拘谨。

"Very good, your Ladyship. I will see to it at once." Taking an order, his whole self had changed, glazed over with a sort of hardness and distance. Connie hesitated, she ought to go. But she looked round the clean, tidy, rather dreary little sitting-room with something like dismay.

“好的，夫人。我立刻就办。”接受命令时，他变了一副模样，显得冷若冰霜，仿佛要拒人千里之外。康妮有些迟疑，她应该回去了。但她却有点沮丧地环顾起这个干净整洁，但又有些阴郁的小起居室。

"Do you live here quite alone?" she asked.

“你一个人住在这儿么？”她问。

"Quite alone, your Ladyship." "But your mother...?" "She lives in her own cottage in the village." "With the child?" asked Connie.

“就我自己，夫人。”“那你母亲呢……？”“她在村里有自己的住处。”“和孩子一起？”她问。

"With the child!" And his plain, rather worn face took on an indefinable look of derision. It was a face that changed all the time, baking.

“跟孩子同住。”他那张饱经风霜的淳朴面孔上，流露出一丝难以琢磨的嘲讽。这张脸上的表情总是变幻莫测，令人困惑。

"No," he said, seeing Connie stand at a loss, "my mother comes and cleans up for me on Saturdays; I do the rest myself." Again Connie looked at him. His eyes were smiling again, a little mockingly, but warm and blue, and somehow kind. She wondered at him. He was in trousers and flannel shirt and a grey tie, his hair soft and damp, his face rather pale and worn-looking. When the eyes ceased to laugh they looked as if they had suffered a great deal, still without losing their warmth. But a pallor of isolation came over him, she was not really there for him.

发觉康妮疑惑不解，他连忙解释说：“我母亲每周六过来，帮我打扫一下，其余时间我自己收拾。”康妮再度望向他。那双眼睛重新泛起笑意，夹杂着些许嘲弄，但却温暖澄蓝，显得颇为友好亲切。他让她惊讶不已。他身着长裤，配法兰绒衬衫、灰色领带，头发柔软湿润，脸色苍白，仿佛饱经沧桑。笑容褪去时，他的双眸看上去像是曾经历尽苦难，但仍未丧失热情。然而，他苍白的面容透露出孤独的气质，她来这儿并非为了他。

She wanted to say so many things, and she said nothing. Only she looked up at him again, and remarked: "I hope I didn't disturb you?” The faint smile of mockery narrowed his eyes.

她有满腹的话语想要倾诉，但却只字未言。她只是再次抬头看着他，说：“希望没有打搅你。”略带嘲讽的微笑让他眯起眼睛。

"Only combing my hair, if you don't mind. I'm sorry I hadn't a coat on, but then I had no idea who was knocking. Nobody knocks here, and the unexpected sounds ominous.” He went in front of her down the garden path to hold the gate. In his shirt, without the clumsy velveteen coat, she saw again how slender he was, thin, stooping a little. Yet, as she passed him, there was something young and bright in his fair hair, and his quick eyes. He would be a man about thirty-seven or eight.

“我刚刚在梳头，请您不要见怪。我还没来得及穿上外套，但我真的不晓得是谁在敲门。从来没人敲过门，乍一听到，敲门声还真让我有些紧张。”他走在前面，将她引领到花园尽头，为她打开门。他只穿着衬衫，没套那件笨重的棉绒外衣，那修长清瘦的身材康妮尽览无疑，而且稍稍有点驼背。然而，从他身边走过时，康妮透过其金黄的发丝、敏锐的双眼，发现洋溢着的青春活力。他大概三十七八岁。

She plodded on into the wood, knowing he was looking after her; he upset her so much, in spite of herself.

她步履沉重地走进树林，清楚他正在背后望向自己，他让她如此意乱情迷，难以自持。

And he, as he went indoors, was thinking: "She's nice, she's real! She's nicer than she knows.” She wondered very much about him; he seemed so unlike a game-keeper, so unlike a working-man anyhow; although he had something in common with the local people. But also something very uncommon.

而他呢，往回走的路上也陷入沉思：“她的确优雅大方，毫不做作！她比自己所知道的还要优秀。”她对他充满好奇，他根本不像是个守林人，怎么样也跟工人阶层扯不上边，虽说跟当地村民有相同之处。但他也有出类拔萃的地方。

"The game-keeper, Mellors, is a curious kind of person," she said to Clifford; "he might almost be a gentleman." "Might he?" said Clifford. "I hadn't noticed.” "But isn't there something special about him?” Connie insisted.

“那个守林人，梅勒斯，是个古怪的家伙，”她对克利福德说，“他简直就是位绅士。”“真的吗？”克利福德不以为然，“我没太留意。”“可你不认为他有些与众不同么？”康妮不肯罢休。

"I think he's quite a nice fellow, but I know very little about him. He only came out of the army last year, less than a year ago. From India, I rather think. He may have picked up certain tricks out there, perhaps he was an officer's servant, and improved on his position. Some of the men were like that. But it does them no good, they have to fall back into their old places when they get home again.” Connie gazed at Clifford contemplatively. She saw in him the peculiar tight rebuff against anyone of the lower classes who might be really climbing up, which she knew was characteristic of his breed.