她脸色非常苍白，显然在沉思，但她的表情既不是悲伤，也不是懊悔。只有一种不快的无奈和困惑。
She was very pale, and apparently deep in thought, but her expression was not one of sorrow, nor of regret. There was only a kind of unhappy resignation and perplexity.
如果那个坟墓不在那儿，杰克告诉自己，他会回到自己原来的想法；就是伊迪莎?文宁精神失常了。但坟墓在那儿。他自己亲眼看到了。他有点后悔它在那儿。如果不是这样，事情会容易理解得多。
If the grave had not been there, Jake told himself, he would have gone back to his original theory; that Editha Venning had blown her top. But the grave was there. He’d seen it himself. He was rather sorry that it was. It would have been a lot easier to understand the other way.
他陪她一直走到通向街道的大门。在那儿她停了下来，带着一种打发人的神情。
He walked with her as far as the gate leading to the street. There she paused, with an air of dismissal.
“我给你叫辆出租车好吗？” 杰克问。
“Can I get you a taxi?” Jake asked.
她摇了摇头。“到北岸车站只有几步路。我宁愿走着去。”
She shook her head. “It’s only a few steps to the North Shore station. I’d rather walk.”
他觉得她不想让他陪她。
He had an idea she didn’t want him to acpany her.
她站了一会儿，犹豫着。“谢谢你陪我来。我不喜欢一个人穿过那些树林。但我确实想自己去看看。”
She stood for a moment, hesitating. “Thank you for ing with me. I didn’t like going through those woods alone. But I did want to see it, for myself.”
“听着，” 杰克说。他迅速吸了口气。“你不想喝一杯吗？也许来杯茶？这里非常冷，寒气逼人。我想找个机会谈谈……”
“Look here,” Jake said. He drew a quick breath. “Wouldn’t you like a drink? Maybe a cup of tea? It’s beastly cold and raw out here. I’d like a chance to talk—”
“不，谢谢。” 她对他微笑着，她那双深色的大眼睛像两扇空白的窗帘。“我很想喝，但……”—— 她看了看手表 ——“现在是三点差一刻，我四点要在卢普区和我丈夫碰面。” 她优雅地向他点点头，然后沿着街道走了。
“No, thank you.” She smiled at him, her great dark eyes two blank curtains. “I’d like it very much, but”—she consulted her wrist watch—“it’s quarter of three now, and I’m meeting my husband down in the Loop at four.” She nodded to him graciously and went down the street.
杰克点了一支烟，站在那里看着她离去。
Jake lit a cigarette and stood looking after her.
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