"Coming,"Alan looked at his watch. Five, The crickets would start singing soon. He walked on, the sweat pouring into his eyes. Knowing she had opened the bottle of mineral water. Would she let him catch up with her? An even greater misery seized him. It reminded him of the night he made himself drunk on the rough local wine his parents bought in the village. His heart had ached then, too, and his sense of loss had increased as he relived each minute of a day when Tom and Alice had seemed to draw closer and closer together.

“来了。”阿兰看了看手表。已经5点了。蛐蛐儿马上就要开始鸣唱了。他继续向上走，汗水源源不断地流到了眼里。他知道她已经打开那瓶矿泉水。她会让他跟上她吗？一种更大的痛苦折磨着他。这使他想起那天晚上他用父母亲从村里买的粗制的当地酒将自己灌醉的情景，那时他的心也在发痛。每当他想起爱丽丝和汤姆越来越亲近的时候，他的失落感就会与日俱增。

He walked faster. Here, a few miles away on the bare mountainside, there was arid space, and the olive groves, clustered in the stone-cluttered valleys below.

他走得越来越快。他为山顶上那些中世纪的城堡而欢呼雀跃。放眼望去，离那座山几里远的地方有一块空地，在山谷的乱石丛中生长着一小片橄榄林。 “Come on!”

“跟上！”

"Coming."

“来了。”

Alan strode doggedly on, looking down at his red, peeling legs, thinking of Tom's strong, straight, brown ones.

阿兰仍顽强地大步前行，他低头看了一眼自己被晒红的、脱了皮的两腿，想起了汤姆强健挺拔的棕色的双腿。

Suddenly he had turned the corner by the stone shelter. He could see her waiting for him. If Tom were here, they would be together, mocking him, looking at each other, leaving him alone. As he strode self-consciously on Alan focused his mind on her.

突然，他拐到石头后面一块隐蔽的地方。他看到她正在等他。如果汤姆也在这里的话，他们一定会站在一起嘲笑他，相互凝望着，把他丢在一边。当他拘谨地向前走的时候，他将注意力都集中在她的身上。

"Where're we going to camp?"She was sitting on an outcrop, her slim body supple and salt-caked. Her legs were swinging and he longed to run his hands over them. Instead he imagined Tom doing that and hot, angry tears filled his eyes.

“我们到哪里去宿营？”她坐在一块突出的岩石上。她的苗条的身材丰满，咸咸的。她的腿在那里晃来晃去。他真想将自己的手在那上面滑动。而他却想象着汤姆那样做的情景。顿时，愤怒的泪水充满了他的眼睛。