她决然地朝他走去，他的手捅在一件黑色长外套的口袋里，外套的黑色毛领上泛着白雪的亮光。当他转向她时，她几乎看不清他的脸，她无法释读那张脸上的表情。他似乎......是什么？悲伤？愉快？他似乎无比地孤独。 She stepped toward him, his hands in the pockets of a long black coat, its black fur collar sparkling with snow. She could barely make out his face as he turned toward her, unknowing. He seemed . . . what? Sad? Nice? He seemed alone.
“我们不能这样一直站在大风雪中，让大家伙儿陪我们挨冻......我们不能呆在这里。”他看着她，脸上既无热情也无欢迎。“这一切都是以谎言开始的。我想让你明白我不是傻瓜，我知道。” “We can’t stand here in a blizzard, with everybody . . . we can’t stay here.” He looked at her without warmth or welcome. “This begins in a lie. I want you to know I know that.”
SHE STEPPED INTO SNOW, a swirling, blowing blizzard that blinded her, yet dazzled her at the same time. It both darkened and illuminated the air of the platform, surrounding her with an aura of moving light. Strangers darted back and forth, greeting, kissing, hurling trunks and suitcases onto shoulders, sheltering babies from the storm. The snow moved horizontally, spiking in giddying whirls around the hastening figures, flying swiftly upward into dark nothingness. There seemed to be no end to it.