茵梦湖:二二By The Roadside The Child Stood7

莱因哈德拨旺壁炉中的柴火，把已经积满灰尘的墨水瓶放到桌子上，然后坐下写信，写给他母亲，写给伊莉莎白，写了整整一个通宵。剩下的圣诞节姜饼搁在他旁边一动未动；可是伊莉莎白缝的袖头却扣上了，跟他那件白色粗绒外套配起来再合适不过。他就这么坐着写呀写呀，直写到冬日的阳光照在结着冰花的玻璃窗上，从他对面的镜子里映出一张苍白而严肃的面孔来。
Reinhard poked the fire in the stove, set the dusty ink-stand on the table, and“” then sat down and wrote and wrote letters the whole night long to his mother and Elisabeth.

The remainder of the Christmas cakes lay untouched by his side, but he had buttoned on Elisabeth\'s cuffs, and odd they looked on his shaggy coat of undyed wool. And there he was still sitting when the winter sun cast its light on the frosted window-panes, and showed him a pale, grave face reflected in the looking-glass.