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He had drawn a pace closer.
他向她走近了一步。
The difference in their heights was immediately absurd.
两人的身高差距更加明显,简直是巨人和侏儒的对比。
So was the degree to which the man’s features betrayed his unpleasing character.
从男子的外貌看,他令人不快的气质也瞬间暴露无遗。
From her low position Ostrakova could read his weakness as clearly as his fear.
奥斯特拉科娃仰望着他,可以清楚读出内在的虚弱和恐惧。
His damp chin had set in a grimace, his mouth had twisted to make him look strong, but she knew he was only banishing an incurable cowardice.
他汗湿的下巴扭曲,脸上露出狞笑,让自己显得很强大,但她看得出来,这只能用来掩饰他不可救药的怯懦。
He is like a man steeling himself for a heroic act, she thought. Or a criminal one.
她想,他像是要坚强起来,干什么英雄壮举,要不就是什么犯罪的勾当。
He is a man cut off from all spontaneous acts, she thought.
这人如果没有外力强制,什么事都做不来。
“You were born in Leningrad on May 8, 1927?” the stranger asked.
“你是1927年5月8日出生在列宁格勒?”陌生人问。
Probably she said yes. Afterwards she was not sure.
当时她很可能说是,但事后又不确定说了什么。
She saw his scared gaze lift and stare at the approaching bus.
公交车来了,她看见那人抬头盯着它,眼里满是惊恐。
She saw an indecision near to panic seize him, and it occurred to her—which in the long run was an act of near clairvoyance—that he proposed to push her under it.
她看到他犹豫不决,几近惊慌失措,忽然有种感觉————从后来发生的事情来看,简直是先知先觉————那人打算将她推到车轮底下去。
He didn’t, but he did put his next question in Russian—and in the brutal accents of Moscow officialdom.
他倒是没有这样做,但问了下一个问题,用的是俄语,带着莫斯科官僚的口音,很粗暴无礼。
“In 1956, were you granted permission to leave the Soviet Union for the purpose of nursing your sick husband, the traitor Ostrakov? Also for certain other purposes?”
"1956年,你获准离开苏联,是为了照顾你生病的丈夫,叛徒奥斯特拉科夫吗?还有其他目的吗?"
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