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"What are you doing boy?" she snapped.
“你在做什么，孩子？ ”她生氣地說道。
"Nothing," he stood with the keys in his hand. She walked to the bureau and opened it. The letters sprung out in an untidy heap.
“沒什么。”他站在那里，手里拿著鑰匙。她走到書桌前然后打開了擋板。一堆信件凌亂地涌了出來。
"You have been reading my letters," she said quietly. Her mouth was tight with the words and her eyes blazed. The boy could say nothing. She struck him across the side of his face.
“你看了我的信，”她輕輕地說道。說完這句話，她的嘴便緊緊地閉著，眼睛冒著火。男孩無言以對。她朝著他的一邊臉扇了一巴掌。
"Get out," she said. "Get out of my room."
“滾，”她說，“滾出我的房間。”
The boy, the side of his face stinging and red, put the keys on the table on his way out. When he reached the door she called to him. He stopped, his hand on the handle.
男孩的臉又痛又紅，他出去的時候把鑰匙放在了桌子上。當他走到門□時，她叫住了他。 他停在那兒，手放在門把手上。
"You are dirt," she hissed, "and always will be dirt. I shall remember this till the day I die."
“你真無恥，”她生氣地低聲說，“而且你將永遠這么無恥。我到死的那天也不會忘記這件事。”
