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All this was torture to me -- refined, lingering torture.
這一切對我是一種折磨——細細的慢悠悠的折磨。
It kept up a slow fire of indignation and a trembling trouble of grief, which harassed and crushed me altogether.
它不斷激起微弱的怒火和令人顫抖的煩惱，弄得我心煩意亂，神衰力竭。
I felt how -- if I were his wife, this good man, pure as the deep sunless source, could soon kill me,
假如我是他的妻子，我覺得這位純潔如沒有陽光的深淵的好人，就能很快殺死我。
without drawing from my veins a single drop of blood, or receiving on his own crystal conscience the faintest stain of crime.
不必從我的血管里抽取一滴血，也不會在清白的良心上留下一絲罪惡的痕跡.
Especially I felt this when I made any attempt to propitiate him.
我想撫慰他時尤其感到這點，
No ruth met my ruth.
我的同情得不到呼應。
HE experienced no suffering from estrangement -- no yearning after reconciliation;
他并不因為疏遠而感到痛苦——他沒有和解的愿望。
and though, more than once, my fast falling tears blistered the page over which we both bent,
盡管我一串串落下的眼淚在我們一起埋頭閱讀的書頁上泛起了水泡，
they produced no more effect on him than if his heart had been really a matter of stone or metal.
他絲毫不為所動，就仿佛他的心確實是一塊石頭或金屬。
To his sisters, meantime, he was somewhat kinder than usual:
與此同時，他對妹妹們似乎比平常更好些了，
as if afraid that mere coldness would not sufficiently convince me how completely I was banished and banned, he added the force of contrast;
唯恐單單冷淡還不足以使我相信，我已那么徹底被逐出教門，他又加上了反差的力量。
and this I am sure he did not by force, but on principle.
我確信他這么做不是因為惡意，而是出于對原則的維護。
The night before he left home, happening to see him walking in the garden about sunset,
他離家前夕，我偶然見他日落時在園子里散步。
and remembering,as I looked at him, that this man, alienated as he now was, had once saved my life,
瞧著他的身影，我想起這個眼下雖然與我有些隔膜的人，曾經救過我的性命，
and that we were near relations, I was moved to make a last attempt to regain his friendship.
又是我的近親，心里便感動得打算作最后一次努力，來恢復友誼。
I went out and approached him as he stood leaning over the little gate; I spoke to the point at once.
我出了門，向他走去，他倚著小門站著，我立刻開門見山地說：
"St. John, I am unhappy because you are still angry with me.
“圣·約翰，我不大高興，因為你還在生我的氣，
Let us be friends."
讓我們成為朋友吧。”
