I haven't got time for that sort of nonsense. Life isn't long enough for love and art. “我没有时间干这种无聊的事。生命太短促了，没有时间既闹恋爱又搞艺术。”

　　Your appearance doesn't suggest the anchorite. “你可不象过隐士生活的样子。”

　　All that business fills me with disgust. “这种事叫我作呕。”

　　Human nature is a nuisance, isn't it? I said. “人性是个讨厌的累赘，对不对？”我说。

　　Why are you sniggering at me? “你为什么对我傻笑？”

　　Because I don't believe you. “因为我不相信你。”

　　Then you're a damned fool. “那你就是个大傻瓜。”

　　I paused, and I looked at him searchingly. 我没有马上答话；我用探索的目光盯着他。

　　What's the good of trying to humbug me? I said. “你骗我有什么用？”我说。

　　I don't know what you mean. “我不知道你是什么意思。”

　　I smiled. 我笑了。

　　Let me tell you.  “叫我来说吧。

　　I imagine that for months the matter never comes into your head, and you're able to persuade yourself that you've finished with it for good and all.  我猜想你是这样一种情况。一连几个月你脑子里一直不想这件事，你甚至可以使自己相信，你同这件事已经彻底绝缘了。

　　You rejoice in your freedom, and you feel that at last you can call your soul your own.  你为自己获得了自由而高兴，你觉得终于成为自己灵魂的主人了。

　　You seem to walk with your head among the stars.  你好像昂首于星斗中漫步。

　　And then, all of a sudden you can't stand it any more, and you notice that all the time your feet have been walking in the mud.  但是突然间，你忍受不住了。你发觉你的双脚从来就没有从污泥里拔出过。

　　And you want to roll yourself in it.  你现在想索性全身躺在烂泥塘里翻滚。

　　And you find some woman, coarse and low and vulgar, some beastly creature in whom all the horror of sex is blatant, and you fall upon her like a wild animal.  于是你就去找一个女人，一个粗野、低贱、俗不可耐的女人，一个性感毕露令人嫌恶的畜类般的女人。你像一个野兽似地扑到她身上。

　　You drink till you're blind with rage. 你拼命往肚里灌酒，你憎恨自己，简直快要发疯了。”

　　He stared at me without the slightest movement. I held his eyes with mine. I spoke very slowly. 他凝视着我，身子一动也不动。我也目不转睛地盯着他的眼睛。我说得很慢。

　　I'll tell you what must seem strange, that when it's over you feel so extraordinarily pure.  “我现在要告诉你一件看来一定是很奇怪的事：等到那件事过去以后，你会感到自己出奇地洁净。

　　You feel like a disembodied spirit, immaterial; and you seem to be able to touch beauty as though it were a palpable thing;  你有一种灵魂把肉体甩脱掉的感觉，一种脱离形体的感觉。你好像一伸手就能触摸到美，倒仿佛‘美’是一件抚摸得到的实体一样。

　　and you feel an intimate communion with the breeze, and with the trees breaking into leaf, and with the iridescence of the river. You feel like God. Can you explain that to me? 你好像同飒飒的微风、同绽露嫩叶的树木、同波光变幻的流水息息相通。你觉得自己就是上帝。你能够给我解释这是怎么回事吗？”

　　He kept his eyes fixed on mine till I had finished, and then he turned away.  他一直盯着我的眼睛，直到我把话讲完。这以后他才转过脸去。

　　There was on his face a strange look, and I thought that so might a man look when he had died under the torture. He was silent.  他的脸上有一种奇怪的神情，我觉得一个死于酷刑折磨下的人可能会有这种神情的。他沉默不语。

　　I knew that our conversation was ended. 我知道我们这次谈话已经结束了。