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In the computer room, at the end of the Statistical Packages class, she went to him and said: Thanks for the notes. They are really good. I think I might not fail, after all. I might have a chance to pass." Her eyes were dry from all the nights she had stayed up. She was tired and grateful.
在机房，统计软件包这门课要下课的时候，她走到他面前，说：“谢谢你的笔记，它们太棒了。我担心最后我可能还是会不及格，但我现在至少有及格的可能了。”她的眼睛因为熬夜而变得干燥。她很累但又很愉快。
He nodded and they spoke little about the Poisson distribution, queuing theory. Everything was clear in his mind; his brain was clear pane of glass where all the concepts were written out boldly and neatly. Today, he seemed more at ease talking to her, though he still shifted about from foot to foot, avoiding her eyes.
他点了点头，他们在聊一些关于于泊松分布、排队论的事情。他脑中的每一件事情都很清晰；他的大脑仿佛是一个清晰的窗格，所有的概念都整洁地写在那里。今天，看起来他和她在一起时更放松了一点，尽管两只脚还在不断地换来换去，避免和她眼神接触。
He said, "Do ye want to go for coffee?"
他说：“你想去喝杯咖啡吗？”
She looked up at him. He was tall and she was not used to speaking to people with blue eyes. Then she made a mistake. Perhaps because she had been up late last night, she made that mistake. Perhaps there were other reasons for that mistake. The mistake of shifting from one level to another.
她看着他。他很高，她还不习惯和有着蓝眼睛的人讲话。然后，她犯了一个错误。可能由于她昨晚熬夜了，她才犯了那个错误。可能这个错误的发生毫无其他原因可言。
She said, "I don't like your earring."
她说：“我不喜欢你的耳环。”
The expression in his eyes, a focusing, no longer shifting away. he shifted his hand to his ear and tugged the earring off. His earlobe without the silver looked red and scarred.
他的眼神，变得聚焦，不再闪烁。他用手将耳环用力地拉了下来。他的耳垂因为没有了这个银色的东西而变得很红，又显得伤痕累累。
She giggled because she was afraid because he wasn't smiling, wasn't saying anything. She covered her mouth with her hand, then wiped her forehead and eyes. A mistake had been made and it was too late to go back. Sh e plunged ahead, careless now, reckless. "I don't like your long hair."
她因为害怕而咯咯地笑了，他从不笑，也不说话。她用手挡住了嘴巴，然后摸了摸她的前额和眼 睛。已经犯了一个无法弥补的错误。她又继续向前一步，变得更加的大胆、鲁莽。“我不喜欢你的长头发。”
He turned and walked away.
他什么也没说，转身离开了。
Like most of the other students, she sat in the same seat in every class. Br careus sat a row ahead which was why she could always look at his hair. But he had cut it, there was no ponytail today! Just his neck and the collar of the grey and white striped shirt.
和大多数同学一样，她每节课都坐在相同的座位上。布莱恩坐在他的前一排，所以她总能看到他的头发。但是今天他把头发剪掉了，没有马尾辫了！只能看见他的脖子和灰白条子衬衫的衣领。
She was made up of layers. Somewhere inside, deep inside, under the crust of vanity, in the untampered-with essence, she would glow and be in awe, and be humble and think, this is just for me, he cut his hair for me. But there were other layers, bolder, more to the surface. Giggling. Wanting to catch hold of a friend. Guess what? You wouldn't believe what this idiot did!
她的内心很复杂。在她内心深处，在虚荣的硬壳下面，在她真实的、未被改变的本性里，她会感到兴高采烈，肃然起敬，感到惭愧，心里会想，他做的这些都是为了我，他居然为我剪了头发。但是她的性格还有其他的层面，更接近表面，更加大胆放肆的层面。她想抓住一个朋友，咯咯地笑着对她说，我跟你说！你不会相信这个傻瓜居然会这么做！
After the class he came over and said very seriously, without a smile, "Ah've cut my hair."
下课后，他走了过来，非常严肃地说，“我把头发剪了。”
