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she wore the same gray dress that she wore so often, neat and becoming, and her brow was as candid, her eyes as untroubled, as when I had been used to see her occupied with her household duties in the studio.
穿的是過去經常穿的一件灰衣服，前額光潔明凈，眼睛里沒有一絲憂慮和煩惱，正象我過去看到她在施特略夫畫室里操持家務時一模一樣。
Come and have a game of chess, said Strickland.
“來下盤棋吧。”思特里克蘭德說。
I do not know why at the moment I could think of no excuse. I followed them rather sulkily to the table at which Strickland always sat, and he called for the board and the chessmen. They both took the situation so much as a matter of course that I felt it absurd to do otherwise. Mrs. Stroeve watched the game with inscrutable face. She was silent, but she had always been silent. I looked at her mouth for an expression that could give me a clue to what she felt; I watched her eyes for some tell-tale flash, some hint of dismay or bitterness; I scanned her brow for any passing line that might indicate a settling emotion. Her face was a mask that told nothing. Her hands lay on her lap motionless, one in the other loosely clasped. I knew from what I had heard that she was a woman of violent passions; and that injurious blow that she had given Dirk, the man who had loved her so devotedly, betrayed a sudden temper and a horrid cruelty. She had abandoned the safe shelter of her husband's protection and the comfortable ease of a well-provided establishment for what she could not but see was an extreme hazard.
我不懂為什么當時我會沒想出一個借口回絕了他。我懷著一肚子悶氣跟在他們后面，走到思特里克蘭德的老座位前邊。他叫侍者取來了棋盤和棋子。他們兩個人對這次不期而遇一點也沒有大驚小怪，我自然也只能裝出一副若無其事的樣子，不然就顯得我太不通人情了。施特略夫太太看著我們下棋，從她臉上的表情絲毫也猜不透她心里想的是什么。她什么話也沒說，但她根本就不是愛說話的人。我看著她的嘴，希望看到一個能使我猜測出她真實感情的神態；我打量著她的眼睛，尋找某種泄露她內心隱秘的閃光，表示惶惑或者痛苦的眼神；我打量著她的前額，看那上面會不會偶然出現一個皺紋，告訴我她正在衰減的熱情。但她的面孔宛如一副面具，我在那上面絲毫也看不出她的真實思想。她的雙手一動不動地擺在膝頭上，一只手松松地握著另一只。從我所聽到的一些事，我知道她的性情很暴烈，戴爾克那么全心全意地愛著她，她卻狠狠地打了他一巴掌，這說明了她翻臉無情，心腸非常冷酷。她拋棄了自己丈夫庇護下的安樂窩，拋棄了溫飽舒適的優裕生活，甘愿承擔她自己也看得非常分明的風險患難。
