“你总算来啦!”维西太太对新到的一位客人大声招呼道。此时,草坪上已聚集了好些来客。她把纤细干瘪的手指在他手上放了一会儿。“亨利从伦敦来了。”她又加了一句。周围的人都会心地笑了,大家明白她这是在向亨利暗示他要扮演的角色。“你有些什么经历?请告诉我们,但别讲可怕的事情,我们已经够伤心的了。”“这真让我难过。”亨利·拉塞尔说,象是不想急于谈起自己的事情。他拉过一张藤椅,坐到大家当中,亲切地从一张张脸上看过去,目光最后停在了一排丁香花上。花是暗紫、粉红和白色的,它们绽开在午后耀眼的阳光里。五月下旬的星期天,阳光强烈,天气却并不暖和,阵阵弱风似的冷气隐隐袭来。花栏尽头,越过洒满阳光的草地,绵延 “You are finally coming!” Mrs. Westie shouted to one of the newly arrived guests. At this time, the lawn has gathered a number of visitors. She put the thin, wizened fingers in his hand for a moment. “Henry came from London.” She added another sentence. All around people will be a happy smile, we understand that she is implying that he is going to play the role of Henry. “What’s your experience? Please tell us, but do not talk about terrible things, we’re sad enough.” “It really makes me sad,” said Henry Russell, as if he did not want to talk about his own affairs. He pulled a wicker chair and sat down with everyone in his arms, looking affectionately at each of his faces, his gaze stopping at a row of lilacs. Flowers are dark purple, pink and white, and they bloom in the dazzling sun of the afternoon. On the sunday in late May, the sun is intense, but the weather is not warm. End of the fence, across the sunny grass, stretches