The Skylight Room

First Mrs. Parker would show you the double parlours. You would not dare to interrupt her description of their advantages and of the merits of the gentleman who had occupied them for eight years. Then you would manage to stammer forth the confession that you were neither a doctor nor a dentist. Mrs. Parker’s manner of receiving the admission was such that you could never afterward entertain the same feeling toward your parents, who had neglected to train you up in one of the professions that fitted Mrs. Parker’s parlours.

帕克太太首先会带你去看那间双开间的客厅。她讲起这间屋子的种种好处，讲起那位在这里住了整整八年的先生有多体面，你可不敢随便打断她。接着，你才好不容易结结巴巴地承认，自己既不是医生也不是牙医。帕克太太听到这话之后的那副神情，会让你从此对你的父母都生出几分怨怼，怪他们没把你培养成一种能配得上帕克太太那客厅的体面职业人士。

Next you ascended one flight of stairs and looked at the second-floor-back at $8. Convinced by her second-floor manner that it was worth the $12 that Mr. Toosenberry always paid for it until he left to take charge of his brother’s orange plantation in Florida near Palm Beach, where Mrs. McIntyre always spent the winters that had the double front room with private bath, you managed to babble that you wanted something still cheaper.

接下来你上了一层楼梯，去看看那间每月八块钱的二楼后房。她那股二楼特有的做派，让你不由得相信，这屋子确实值图森贝里先生一直付的那十二块钱——他后来搬到佛罗里达棕榈滩附近，去打理他哥哥的橙园了；也值麦金太尔太太一直付的价钱，她每年冬天都要住那间带私人浴室的双开间前房。你只好含糊其辞地说，你想找个更便宜的地方。

If you survived Mrs. Parker’s scorn, you were taken to look at Mr. Skidder’s large hall room on the third floor. Mr. Skidder’s room was not vacant. He wrote plays and smoked cigarettes in it all day long. But every room-hunter was made to visit his room to admire the lambrequins. After each visit, Mr. Skidder, from the fright caused by possible eviction, would pay something on his rent.

如果你挺过了帕克太太的白眼，她便会带你去看看三楼斯基德先生那间宽敞的厢房。斯基德先生的房间其实并没空出来。他成天窝在里头写剧本，抽香烟。可每个来看房的人，都得被带去他房间里“欣赏”一下那些帷幔。每次有人来看过之后，斯基德先生便会被吓得心惊胆战，生怕被赶出去，于是就会交上一点房租。

Then—oh, then—if you still stood on one foot, with your hot hand clutching the three moist dollars in your pocket, and hoarsely proclaimed your hideous and culpable poverty, nevermore would Mrs. Parker be cicerone of yours. She would honk loudly the word “Clara,” she would show you her back, and march downstairs. Then Clara, the coloured maid, would escort you up the carpeted ladder that served for the fourth flight, and show you the Skylight Room. It occupied 7×8 feet of floor space at the middle of the hall. On each side of it was a dark lumber closet or storeroom.

再往后——啊，再往后——如果你还单脚站着，手心攥着口袋里那三张潮乎乎的钞票，粗着嗓子坦白自己那令人难堪、罪该万死的穷酸相，帕克太太便再也不肯亲自领你参观了。她会扯着嗓子喊一声“克拉拉”，转身给你个后背，径自下楼去了。于是克拉拉，那位黑人女佣，便会领着你爬上那架铺着地毯、通往四楼的梯子，带你去看那间天窗房。这房间占地七英尺乘八英尺，位于走廊正中央。两边各有一间黑漆漆的杂物间或储藏室。

In it was an iron cot, a washstand and a chair. A shelf was the dresser. Its four bare walls seemed to close in upon you like the sides of a coffin. Your hand crept to your throat, you gasped, you looked up as from a well—and breathed once more. Through the glass of the little skylight you saw a square of blue infinity.

屋里摆着一张铁架床、一个洗脸架和一把椅子。一块搁板充当梳妆台。四面光秃秃的墙壁，仿佛像棺材的四壁一样朝你逼近。你的手不由自主地摸向喉咙，你倒吸一口气，像从井底望上去似的抬起头——才又重新喘过气来。透过那扇小小天窗的玻璃，你能看见一方蓝色的无垠天空。

“Two dollars, suh,” Clara would say in her half-contemptuous, half-Tuskegeenial tones.

“两块钱，先生，”克拉拉会用她那半是不屑、半是塔斯基吉腔调的语气说道。

One day Miss Leeson came hunting for a room. She carried a typewriter made to be lugged around by a much larger lady. She was a very little girl, with eyes and hair that had kept on growing after she had stopped and that always looked as if they were saying: “Goodness me! Why didn’t you keep up with us?”

一天，李森小姐来看房。她随身带着一台打字机，那分量本该由个身材壮实得多的女士来扛。她是个身量娇小的姑娘，眼睛和头发却一直在长，早就超过了她本人该有的比例，看着总像在说：“天哪！你们怎么就不跟我一块儿长呢？”

Mrs. Parker showed her the double parlours. “In this closet,” she said, “one could keep a skeleton or anaesthetic or coal—”

帕克太太带她去看那间双开间客厅。“这个壁橱里，”她说道，“可以放骷髅标本，或者麻醉药，又或者煤——”

“But I am neither a doctor nor a dentist,” said Miss Leeson, with a shiver.

“可我既不是医生，也不是牙医，”李森小姐说道，微微打了个寒战。

Mrs. Parker gave her the incredulous, pitying, sneering, icy stare that she kept for those who failed to qualify as doctors or dentists, and led the way to the second floor back.

帕克太太朝她投去那种专门留给不合“医生或牙医”身份的人的神情——半是难以置信，半是怜悯，又带着几分嘲讽，还有几分冷冰冰——随即领着她去看二楼的后房。

“Eight dollars?” said Miss Leeson. “Dear me! I’m not Hetty if I do look green. I’m just a poor little working girl. Show me something higher and lower.”

“八块钱？”李森小姐说道。“天哪！我这脸色看着虽然发绿，可我又不是什么阔小姐。我不过是个可怜的打工小姑娘罢了。给我看看更贵些、也更便宜些的房间吧。”

Mr. Skidder jumped and strewed the floor with cigarette stubs at the rap on his door.

一听敲门声，斯基德先生猛地一跳，把满地的烟头都给带飞了。

“Excuse me, Mr. Skidder,” said Mrs. Parker, with her demon’s smile at his pale looks. “I didn’t know you were in. I asked the lady to have a look at your lambrequins.”

“对不住了，斯基德先生，”帕克太太说道，脸上带着魔鬼般的笑意，瞧着他那张吓白了的脸。“我不知道你在屋里。我请这位小姐来看看你的帷幔。”

“They’re too lovely for anything,” said Miss Leeson, smiling in exactly the way the angels do.

“真是漂亮极了，没得挑，”李森小姐说道，笑得跟天使一模一样。

After they had gone Mr. Skidder got very busy erasing the tall, black-haired heroine from his latest (unproduced) play and inserting a small, roguish one with heavy, bright hair and vivacious features.

她们走了以后，斯基德先生便忙活起来，把他那部最新（尚未上演的）剧本里，那个身材高挑、一头黑发的女主角给擦掉，换上了一个娇小顽皮、一头浓密亮发、神采飞扬的角色。

“Anna Held’ll jump at it,” said Mr. Skidder to himself, putting his feet up against the lambrequins and disappearing in a cloud of smoke like an aerial cuttlefish.

“安娜·赫尔德准会一眼相中这个角色，”斯基德先生自言自语道，一边把脚搭在帷幔上，一边消失在一团烟雾里，活像一只飘在半空中的墨鱼。

Presently the tocsin call of “Clara!” sounded to the world the state of Miss Leeson’s purse. A dark goblin seized her, mounted a Stygian stairway, thrust her into a vault with a glimmer of light in its top and muttered the menacing and cabalistic words “Two dollars!”

不多时，一声“克拉拉！”的警钟般的呼喊，把李森小姐钱包里的实情昭告了天下。一个黑黢黢的小妖精一把抓住她，爬上一道阴森的楼梯，把她推进一间顶上透着一线微光的地窖，嘟囔出几个带着威胁意味的咒语般的字眼：“两块钱！”

“I’ll take it!” sighed Miss Leeson, sinking down upon the squeaky iron bed.

“我租了！”李森小姐叹了口气，一屁股坐到了那张吱嘎作响的铁床上。

Every day Miss Leeson went out to work. At night she brought home papers with handwriting on them and made copies with her typewriter. Sometimes she had no work at night, and then she would sit on the steps of the high stoop with the other roomers. Miss Leeson was not intended for a sky-light room when the plans were drawn for her creation. She was gay-hearted and full of tender, whimsical fancies. Once she let Mr. Skidder read to her three acts of his great (unpublished) comedy, “It’s No Kid; or, The Heir of the Subway.”

李森小姐每天都要出门做工。晚上她会把写着字的稿纸带回家，用打字机打成一份份誊本。有时晚上没活儿干，她便会和其他房客一起坐在那高高的门廊台阶上。造物主当初设计她这个人的时候，压根就没打算让她住什么天窗房。她天性开朗，满脑子都是柔情而奇思妙想。有一回，她还听斯基德先生给她念了他那部（尚未出版的）伟大喜剧《这不是闹着玩的；或曰地铁的继承人》里的整整三幕。

There was rejoicing among the gentlemen roomers whenever Miss Leeson had time to sit on the steps for an hour or two. But Miss Longnecker, the tall blonde who taught in a public school and said, “Well, really!” to everything you said, sat on the top step and sniffed. And Miss Dorn, who shot at the moving ducks at Coney every Sunday and worked in a department store, sat on the bottom step and sniffed. Miss Leeson sat on the middle step and the men would quickly group around her.

每当李森小姐得空在台阶上坐上一两个钟头，那些男房客们就都欢欣鼓舞。可那位身材高挑的金发女郎朗内克小姐，是在公立学校教书的，不管你说什么她都要来一句“哎呀，真是的！”，她坐在最上面一级台阶上，鼻子哼哼作响。多恩小姐每逢星期天都要跑去科尼岛打移动的鸭子靶，平日在一家百货商店上班，她则坐在最下面一级台阶上，也鼻子哼哼作响。李森小姐坐在中间那级台阶上，男士们便迅速围拢到她身边。

Especially Mr. Skidder, who had cast her in his mind for the star part in a private, romantic (unspoken) drama in real life. And especially Mr. Hoover, who was forty-five, fat, flush and foolish. And especially very young Mr. Evans, who set up a hollow cough to induce her to ask him to leave off cigarettes. The men voted her “the funniest and jolliest ever,” but the sniffs on the top step and the lower step were implacable.

尤其是斯基德先生，他心里早已把她安排进了一出私密的、浪漫的（未曾说出口的）真实人生大戏里，担纲主角。还有胡佛先生，此人四十五岁，肥胖、阔气又愚蠢。还有那位年纪轻轻的埃文斯先生，他还故意咳嗽出些空洞的干咳声，想诱使她开口叫他把烟戒掉。这些男士都一致公认她是“最风趣、最快活的一个”，可最上面台阶和最下面台阶上传出的哼哼声，却始终不肯罢休。

I pray you let the drama halt while Chorus stalks to the footlights and drops an epicedian tear upon the fatness of Mr. Hoover. Tune the pipes to the tragedy of tallow, the bane of bulk, the calamity of corpulence. Tried out, Falstaff might have rendered more romance to the ton than would have Romeo’s rickety ribs to the ounce. A lover may sigh, but he must not puff. To the train of Momus are the fat men remanded. In vain beats the faithfullest heart above a 52-inch belt. Avaunt, Hoover! Hoover, forty-five, flush and foolish, might carry off Helen herself; Hoover, forty-five, flush, foolish and fat is meat for perdition. There was never a chance for you, Hoover.

请容我暂且叫这出戏停一停，好让歌队走上台前，为胡佛先生的肥胖洒下一滴哀悼的泪水。且让笛声奏起这曲脂肪的悲歌，这肥膘的祸患，这肥胖的灾殃。要说到浪漫这件事，煎去了油水的福斯塔夫，一磅肉里怕也比罗密欧那副瘦骨嶙峋的肋骨一盎司里，更有几分浪漫气息。恋人尽可以叹气，却千万不能喘粗气。胖子啊，注定要被打发去跟着诙谐之神的仪仗队走。就算是最忠贞不渝的一颗心，跳动在五十二英寸的腰带之上，也是白搭。去你的吧，胡佛！胡佛，四十五岁，阔气又愚蠢，或许还能把海伦本人也拐跑；可胡佛，四十五岁，阔气、愚蠢又肥胖，那就只配去喂了阎罗王了。胡佛啊，你压根就没有半点机会。

As Mrs. Parker’s roomers sat thus one summer’s evening, Miss Leeson looked up into the firmament and cried with her little gay laugh:

一个夏日的傍晚，帕克太太的这群房客们正这样坐着，李森小姐仰头望着天空，带着她那轻快愉悦的笑声喊道：

“Why, there’s Billy Jackson! I can see him from down here, too.”

“咦，那不是比利·杰克逊嘛！我在这儿也能瞧见他呢。”

All looked up—some at the windows of skyscrapers, some casting about for an airship, Jackson-guided.

众人都抬起头来——有人望着摩天大楼的窗户，有人四下张望，想找一艘由杰克逊驾驶的飞船。

“It’s that star,” explained Miss Leeson, pointing with a tiny finger. “Not the big one that twinkles—the steady blue one near it. I can see it every night through my skylight. I named it Billy Jackson.”

“是那颗星星啦，”李森小姐解释道，用她那纤细的手指点着。“不是那颗一闪一闪的大星星——是它旁边那颗稳稳的蓝色小星星。我每天晚上都能透过我的天窗看见它。我给它起了个名字，叫比利·杰克逊。”

“Well, really!” said Miss Longnecker. “I didn’t know you were an astronomer, Miss Leeson.”

“哎呀，真是的！”朗内克小姐说道。“我倒不知道你还是位天文学家呢，李森小姐。”

“Oh, yes,” said the small star gazer, “I know as much as any of them about the style of sleeves they’re going to wear next fall in Mars.”

“那是当然，”这位娇小的观星人说道，“说到明年秋天火星上要流行什么袖子的款式，我懂得可不比他们那些人少。”

“Well, really!” said Miss Longnecker. “The star you refer to is Gamma, of the constellation Cassiopeia. It is nearly of the second magnitude, and its meridian passage is—”

“哎呀，真是的！”朗内克小姐说道。“你说的那颗星星，其实是仙后座里的伽玛星。差不多算是二等星，它经过子午线的时刻是——”

“Oh,” said the very young Mr. Evans, “I think Billy Jackson is a much better name for it.”

“哦，”那位年纪轻轻的埃文斯先生说道，“我倒觉得比利·杰克逊这个名字更好听。”

“Same here,” said Mr. Hoover, loudly breathing defiance to Miss Longnecker. “I think Miss Leeson has just as much right to name stars as any of those old astrologers had.”

“我也这么想，”胡佛先生大声说道，一副要跟朗内克小姐叫板的气势。“我觉得李森小姐给星星起名字的权利，一点也不比那些老占星家们少。”

“Well, really!” said Miss Longnecker.

“哎呀，真是的！”朗内克小姐说道。

“I wonder whether it’s a shooting star,” remarked Miss Dorn. “I hit nine ducks and a rabbit out of ten in the gallery at Coney Sunday.”

“不知道那会不会是颗流星，”多恩小姐说道。“星期天我在科尼岛的射击场里，十发里打中了九只鸭子和一只兔子呢。”

“He doesn’t show up very well from down here,” said Miss Leeson. “You ought to see him from my room. You know you can see stars even in the daytime from the bottom of a well. At night my room is like the shaft of a coal mine, and it makes Billy Jackson look like the big diamond pin that Night fastens her kimono with.”

“从这儿看，他不太显眼，”李森小姐说道。“你们真该去我房间里瞧瞧才是。你们知道吗，就算是白天，在井底也能看见星星呢。到了晚上，我那屋子就像煤矿的竖井一样，把比利·杰克逊衬得就像夜姑娘系和服腰带用的那颗大钻石胸针一样闪亮。”

There came a time after that when Miss Leeson brought no formidable papers home to copy. And when she went out in the morning, instead of working, she went from office to office and let her heart melt away in the drip of cold refusals transmitted through insolent office boys. This went on.

再往后，有一段时间，李森小姐不再带那些吓人的一大摞文件回家誊写了。每天早晨她出门，也不再是去做工，而是从这家公司跑到那家公司，让自己那颗心，在一个个傲慢无礼的办公室小听差转达的冷冰冰的拒绝声中，一点一点地融化消耗殆尽。这样的日子，就这么一天天过去了。

There came an evening when she wearily climbed Mrs. Parker’s stoop at the hour when she always returned from her dinner at the restaurant. But she had had no dinner.

后来有一天傍晚，正是她平常从饭馆吃完晚饭回来的时辰，她疲惫不堪地爬上了帕克太太家的门廊台阶。可她其实根本没吃晚饭。

As she stepped into the hall Mr. Hoover met her and seized his chance. He asked her to marry him, and his fatness hovered above her like an avalanche. She dodged, and caught the balustrade. He tried for her hand, and she raised it and smote him weakly in the face. Step by step she went up, dragging herself by the railing. She passed Mr. Skidder’s door as he was red-inking a stage direction for Myrtle Delorme (Miss Leeson) in his (unaccepted) comedy, to “pirouette across stage from L to the side of the Count.” Up the carpeted ladder she crawled at last and opened the door of the skylight room.

她刚一走进门厅，胡佛先生便迎面撞见了她，抓住了这个机会。他向她求婚，那身肥膘朝她压过来，仿佛一场雪崩。她一躲，抓住了栏杆。他伸手想去抓她的手，她却把手抬起来，有气无力地朝他脸上打了一下。她一步一步地攀着栏杆爬上楼去。她经过斯基德先生房门的时候，他正用红墨水修改一段舞台指示，为的是让那位默特尔·德洛姆（也就是李森小姐）在他那出（未被采纳的）喜剧里，“从左边旋身跳到伯爵身旁”。她终于爬上了那铺着地毯的梯子，打开了天窗房的门。

She was too weak to light the lamp or to undress. She fell upon the iron cot, her fragile body scarcely hollowing the worn springs. And in that Erebus of the skylight room, she slowly raised her heavy eyelids, and smiled.

她已虚弱得连灯都点不了，也没力气脱衣服。她一下子倒在那张铁架床上，纤弱的身躯几乎压不出那磨旧的弹簧的一丝凹陷。就在那间宛如冥府一般昏暗的天窗房里，她慢慢抬起沉重的眼皮，微笑了起来。

For Billy Jackson was shining down on her, calm and bright and constant through the skylight. There was no world about her. She was sunk in a pit of blackness, with but that small square of pallid light framing the star that she had so whimsically and oh, so ineffectually named. Miss Longnecker must be right; it was Gamma, of the constellation Cassiopeia, and not Billy Jackson. And yet she could not let it be Gamma.

因为比利·杰克逊正透过天窗，安然明亮、恒久不变地照耀着她。她周围已没有了整个世界。她仿佛沉入了一口漆黑的深井，只剩那一小方苍白的光亮，框住了那颗她曾如此异想天开、又是那样徒劳无功地为之命名的星星。朗内克小姐一定是对的；那不过是仙后座里的伽玛星，而不是什么比利·杰克逊。可她终究不肯让它变成伽玛星。

As she lay on her back she tried twice to raise her arm. The third time she got two thin fingers to her lips and blew a kiss out of the black pit to Billy Jackson. Her arm fell back limply.

她仰面躺着，两次试着抬起手臂，都没能成功。第三次，她才把两根细瘦的手指伸到唇边，从那黑暗的深井里，朝比利·杰克逊送去一个吻。她的手臂又无力地垂了下去。

“Good-bye, Billy,” she murmured faintly. “You’re millions of miles away and you won’t even twinkle once. But you kept where I could see you most of the time up there when there wasn’t anything else but darkness to look at, didn’t you? … Millions of miles … Good-bye, Billy Jackson.”

“再见了，比利，”她微弱地喃喃道。“你离这儿有几百万英里远，你连闪一下都不会为我闪一下。可当我在那上头除了黑暗什么也看不到的时候，多半时候你都留在那儿，让我能望见你，是不是？……几百万英里……再见了，比利·杰克逊。”

Clara, the coloured maid, found the door locked at 10 the next day, and they forced it open. Vinegar, and the slapping of wrists and burnt feathers proving of no avail, some one ran to ‘phone for an ambulance.

第二天到了十点，黑人女佣克拉拉发现房门反锁着，众人便合力把门撞开。醋、掐手腕、烧羽毛熏鼻子，种种法子都无济于事，终于有人跑去打电话叫了救护车。

In due time it backed up to the door with much gong-clanging, and the capable young medico, in his white linen coat, ready, active, confident, with his smooth face half debonair, half grim, danced up the steps.

不多时，救护车便一路铛铛作响地倒车停在了门口，那位干练年轻的医生，穿着白色亚麻大褂，动作利落、干劲十足、信心满满，光滑的脸上带着半是潇洒、半是严肃的神情，蹬蹬蹬地跑上了台阶。

“Ambulance call to 49,” he said briefly. “What’s the trouble?”

“49号叫的救护车，”他简短地说道。“出什么事了？”

“Oh, yes, doctor,” sniffed Mrs. Parker, as though her trouble that there should be trouble in the house was the greater. “I can’t think what can be the matter with her. Nothing we could do would bring her to. It’s a young woman, a Miss Elsie—yes, a Miss Elsie Leeson. Never before in my house—”

“哦，是的，大夫，”帕克太太鼻子哼哼着说道，仿佛这屋里竟然出了事，让她比谁都难堪似的。“我实在想不出她这是怎么了。我们想尽了办法也没能把她救醒。是位年轻女子，一位埃尔西小姐——是的，一位埃尔西·李森小姐。我这屋子里从来没出过这种事——”

“What room?” cried the doctor in a terrible voice, to which Mrs. Parker was a stranger.

“哪个房间？”医生用一种极为严厉的口气喝问道，那口气帕克太太还是头一回听见。

“The skylight room. It—”

“天窗房。那——”

Evidently the ambulance doctor was familiar with the location of skylight rooms. He was gone up the stairs, four at a time. Mrs. Parker followed slowly, as her dignity demanded.

显然这位救护车医生对天窗房的位置再熟悉不过了。他一步跨四级台阶，飞奔上楼去了。帕克太太随后不紧不慢地跟了上去，因为她的身份，容不得她失了体面。

On the first landing she met him coming back bearing the astronomer in his arms. He stopped and let loose the practised scalpel of his tongue, not loudly. Gradually Mrs. Parker crumpled as a stiff garment that slips down from a nail. Ever afterward there remained crumples in her mind and body. Sometimes her curious roomers would ask her what the doctor said to her.

在第一段楼梯的转角处，她碰见医生正抱着这位“天文学家”下楼来。他停下脚步，用他那把训练有素、锋利如手术刀的舌头，压低了声音数落了她一顿。渐渐地，帕克太太整个人瘪了下去，像一件从钉子上滑落的硬挺衣裳。从那以后，她的心里和身上，都留下了再也抹不去的皱褶。有时那些好奇的房客们会问她，医生对她说了些什么。

“Let that be,” she would answer. “If I can get forgiveness for having heard it I will be satisfied.”

“这事就别提了，”她总会这样回答。“但愿听了那番话之后，我还能被人原谅，这我就心满意足了。”

The ambulance physician strode with his burden through the pack of hounds that follow the curiosity chase, and even they fell back along the sidewalk abashed, for his face was that of one who bears his own dead.

这位救护车医生抱着他的重负，大步穿过那群跟在后头看热闹的好事之徒，就连他们也在人行道上退缩了几步，自惭形秽，因为他脸上的神情，就像一个人正抱着自己的亲人的遗体一般。

They noticed that he did not lay down upon the bed prepared for it in the ambulance the form that he carried, and all that he said was: “Drive like h––––l, Wilson,” to the driver.

人们注意到，他并没有把怀里抱着的那个人放到救护车里早已备好的担架床上，他只对司机说了一句：“开快点，威尔逊，见鬼地开快点。”

That is all. Is it a story? In the next morning’s paper I saw a little news item, and the last sentence of it may help you (as it helped me) to weld the incidents together.

事情就是这样。这算得上一个故事吗？第二天早晨的报纸上，我看到了一则小小的新闻，其中最后一句话，或许能帮你（就像它帮了我一样）把这些事串到一起。

It recounted the reception into Bellevue Hospital of a young woman who had been removed from No. 49 East –––– street, suffering from debility induced by starvation. It concluded with these words:

那则新闻讲的是，一名从东某某街四十九号被抬出来的年轻女子，因饥饿引发体力衰竭，被送进了贝尔维尤医院。新闻末尾写道：

“Dr. William Jackson, the ambulance physician who attended the case, says the patient will recover.”

“负责这起病例的救护车医生威廉·杰克逊表示，这位病人会康复的。”