現(xiàn)在我們正對著的這面墻和別的墻都不一樣。這面墻上沒有書架,卻掛滿了各種尺寸的鑲著相框的照片。有些是模糊生硬的彩色照片,另一些則是黯淡的黑白照片。我試圖找出某種邏輯,某個這些收藏品所共有的主題,但在我匆忙的審視中,我沒有任何發(fā)現(xiàn)。
Edward pulled me toward the far left side, standing me in front of a small square oil painting in aplain wooden frame. This one did not stand out among the bigger and brighter pieces; paintedin varying tones of sepia, it depicted a miniature city full of steeply slanted roofs, with thinspires atop a few scattered towers. A wide river filled the foreground, crossed by a bridgecovered with structures that looked like tiny cathedrals.
愛德華把我拉到了最左邊,讓我站到了一張裝裱在一個簡樸的木框里的小小的方形油畫前。這幅油畫在眾多尺寸更大,顏色更鮮亮的油畫里并不顯眼,它是用各種色調(diào)的深褐色畫成的。它描繪了一個微縮的城市,那里到處是陡峭的斜屋頂,散落在各處的幾座高塔露出窄窄的塔尖。一條寬廣的河流填滿了遠(yuǎn)景,河上橫跨著一座橋梁,橋上布滿了看上去像是小巧的教堂的建筑。
"London in the sixteen-fifties," Edward said.
“十七世紀(jì)五十年代的倫敦。”愛德華說道。
"The London of my youth," Carlisle added, from a few feet behind us. I flinched; I hadn't heardhim approach. Edward squeezed my hand.
“我年少時的倫敦。”卡萊爾補充道,他站在離我們只有幾英尺遠(yuǎn)的地方。我畏縮了一下,我根本沒聽到他走近的聲音。愛德華緊握住我的手。
"Will you tell the story?" Edward asked. I twisted a little to see Carlisle's reaction.
“你愿意講這個故事嗎?”愛德華問道。我稍微轉(zhuǎn)過頭,想看看卡萊爾的反應(yīng)。
He met my glance and smiled. "I would," he replied. "But I'm actually running a bit late. Thehospital called this morning — Dr. Snow is taking a sick day. Besides, you know the stories aswell as I do," he added, grinning at Edward now.
他對上了我的目光,笑了起來。“我很樂意。”他回答道。“但我確實有點趕時間。醫(yī)院今天早上給我打了電話——斯諾醫(yī)生請了一天病假。另外,你對這個故事的熟悉程度不亞于我。”他補充道,瞥了一眼愛德華。
It was a strange combination to absorb — the everyday concerns of the town doctor stuck inthe middle of a discussion of his early days in seventeenth-century London.
這實在是個奇怪的難于理解的混合體——那位每天關(guān)心著鎮(zhèn)上事務(wù)的醫(yī)生正陷于關(guān)于他早年在十七世紀(jì)的倫敦的經(jīng)歷的討論之中。