評論
打印
Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time,
星期六下午不知不覺就過去了，
it was five minutes to eight, and Harry was dragging his feet along the second-floor corridor to Lockhart's office.
一晃就到了八點差五分，哈利滿不情愿地拖動雙腳，沿三樓走廊向洛哈特的辦公室走去。
He gritted his teeth and knocked.
他咬咬牙，敲響了房門。
The door flew open at once. Lockhart beamed down at him.
門立刻開了，洛哈特滿面笑容地看著他。
“Ah, here's the scalawag!” he said.
“啊，小壞蛋來了！
“Come in, Harry, come in—”
進來，哈利，進來吧?！?/div>
Shining brightly on the walls by the light of many candles were countless framed photographs of Lockhart.
墻上掛著數不清的洛哈特的像框，被許多支蠟燭照得十分明亮。
He had even signed a few of them. Another large pile lay on his desk.
有幾張上甚至還有他的簽名。桌上也放著一大疊照片。
“You can address the envelopes!” Lockhart told Harry, as though this was a huge treat.
“你可以寫信封！”洛哈特對哈利說，仿佛這是好大的優惠似的，
“This first one's to Gladys Gudgeon, bless her— huge fan of mine—”
“第一封給格拉迪絲女士，上帝保佑她——我的一個熱烈的崇拜者。”
The minutes snailed by. Harry let Lockhart's voice wash over him, occasionally saying, “Mmm” and “Right” and “Yeah.”
時間過得像蝸牛爬。哈利聽憑洛哈特在那里滔滔不絕，只偶爾答一聲“唔” “啊”“是”。
Now and then he caught a phrase like, “Fame's a fickle friend, Harry,” or “Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that.”
有時有那么一兩句刮到他耳朵里，什么“名氣是個反復無常的朋友，哈利”，或“記住，名人就得有名人的架子”。
