| 3. | My god , my god , the same people , the same talk , papa holding his cup , and blowing it just the same as always , thought natasha , feeling with horror an aversion rising up in her for all her family , because they were always the same
“我的天呀，我的天，还是那些同样的面孔，同样的谈话，爸爸还是拿着一只茶碗，仍旧对着茶碗吹气！ ”娜塔莎想道，因为他们依然如故，所以她惊恐地觉得自己心中升起了一阵对全家人的厌恶感。 |
