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[hide]She was lying in front of the fire, her body almost glowing. Alan reached out a hand and temporarily she took it. Then Alice yawned and stretched.“I’m turning in now,”she said.
她躺在火堆前，身上闪闪发光。阿兰伸出一只手，她暂时握住了他的手。接着，爱丽丝打哈欠，伸展身体。“我现在要睡觉了，”她说。
“More coffee?”asked Alan miserably.
“再来点咖啡？”阿兰痛苦地问道。
She kissed him on the forehead. “No thanks”
她在他的前额上吻了吻。“不，谢谢。”
Had he ever loved his brother Tom? He must have done sometime. Certainly he had always been jealous of him as a child. He the introvert；Tom the extrovert. Alan thought about his introverted personality. He could see quite clearly how he had failed so dismally with Alice and how Tom had taken over so easily. Tom was what she wanted. She didn’t want what he had.
他爱他的弟弟汤姆吗？有时他肯定爱，当然他总是忌妒弟弟，像一个小孩子。对他们俩来说，他性格内向，汤姆性格外向。阿兰想着自己内向的性格。他十分清楚自己如何在爱丽丝身上败得这么惨，而汤姆又是如何轻而易举便得到了她。汤姆正是她需要的那号人，她并不需要他这种人。 Gloomily, Alan climbed into the sleeping bag and drifted off to sleep. Beside him Alice slept, her breathing seeming to keep in time with the insistent beat of crickets.
阿兰闷闷不乐地钻进自己的睡袋，渐渐地进入了梦乡。躺在他身旁的爱丽丝也睡着了，她的呼吸声似乎和蛐蛐儿的鸣叫声保持同步。
Alan dreamt. The crickets had stopped. There was a slight breeze and the luminous hand of his watch registered just after two. Her sleeping bag was empty; Alice had gone. For a while he just couldn’t believe it. He sat up and felt the dark walls of Santa Caterina close in on him.
阿兰做了一个梦。蛐蛐声都停止了。一阵微风拂过。他的手表上的夜光针刚过了两点。爱丽丝的睡袋空了；她已经走了。好一阵子，他都无法相信这个事实。他坐起来，感到圣卡塔林纳的黑黢黢的墙壁将他团团围住了。
Then he was on the mountainside, stumbling blindly up the mountain path, hearing their laughter. Softly he crept up on them until he could see their bodies entwined. Alan’s anger rose to fever pitch and he rushed towards them. They fell apart. He sobbed as he had never sobbed since he was a child.
随后，他来到山边，踉踉跄跄地沿着山路盲目前行。听见他们的朗朗笑声，他轻轻地爬过去，看到两个身体紧紧地贴在一块。他感到痛苦万分，怒不可遏地冲向他们。他们猛地分开了。他低声啜泣，尽管他从孩提时起就从来没有哭过。
She woke him anxiously shaking at his sunburnt shoulders.
她焦急地摇着他被太阳晒黑的肩膀，唤醒了他。
“What’s the matter？”she kept asking over and over again“Alan, what’s wrong?”
“发生了什么事？”她一遍又一遍地问，“阿兰，怎么了？”
He stared up at her, blinking in the glow of the dying camp fire.
他抬眼盯着她，在篝火的余光中眨着眼睛。
“Nothing,”he said automatically.“Nothing really.”
“没什么，”他不由自主地说。“真的没什么。”
“But—”
“可是——”
“Just a bad dream, that’s all.”
“只是做了一个恶梦，仅此而已。”
“You were crying.”Her voice was soft, tender, just like she used to be.
“你刚才在哭，”她的声音像过去那样温柔和气。
Alan turned over in his sleeping bag. “I’m fine.”he said.“Let’s get some sleep.”
阿兰在睡袋里翻了一下身，背对着她说：“我很好，我们再睡一会儿吧！”
Alan woke with the early-morning sun gently warming his face. He sat up, his head muzzy with the dream, his cheeks salty, tear-stained.“You were crying.”Her voice came back to him and he winced. Alice had felt sorry for him and he instantly smothered, patronized. He broke into a sweat of agony and apprehension. How could he ever open up a discussion with her now?
阿兰醒来时，晨阳暖暖地照在他的脸上。他满脸泪痕，咸咸的。他坐起来，脑海里还懵懵懂懂地萦绕着那个梦。“你刚才在哭，”她的声音又传了过来。他退缩了一下。爱丽丝已经感到对不起他了。他立即感到很压抑。由于巨大的悲痛和忧伤，猛地出了一身冷汗。现在他将怎样和她展开一场讨论呢？
He looked cautiously round her sleeping bag. It was empty and Alan froze. Then, gradually, he relaxed. It was just after eight and she had probably gone to find a place to go to the loo. He waited, calmly, gloomily, and then anxiously as she did not appear. Hurriedly Alan struggled out of his sleeping bag and began to search the grounds of the monastery. But there was no sign of her at all.
他小心翼翼地看了看她的睡袋，睡袋已经空了。阿兰一下子僵住了。随后，渐渐地，他又放松了。现在刚过8点，她也许是找地方方便去了。他平静地、忧郁地等待着，尔后还是不见她回来，就心急火燎起来。阿兰慌忙从睡袋里挣扎出来，开始在寺院里四处寻找。但踪迹皆无。
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