"Oh, don't brush it off. I like it on your black hair. Mr Bore-nius, is he not quite bacchanalian?"
鎴戝師鏉ユ槸杩欎箞鎵撶畻鐨勩�傗��
"What do you mean?"
"Mr Hall, have you heard what I was saying?"
For it had become an adventure. This man who said one ought to "talk, talk" had stirred Maurice incomprehensibly. One night, just before ten o'clock, he slipped into Trinity and waited in the Great Court until the gates were shut behind him. Look-ing up, he noticed the night. He was indifferent to beauty as a rule, but "what a show of stars!" he thought. And how the foun-tain splashed when the chimes died away, and the gates and doors all over Cambridge had been fastened up. Trinity men were around him鈥攁ll of enormous intellect and culture. Maur-ice's set had laughed at Trinity, but they could not ignore its dis-dainful radiance, or deny the superiority it scarcely troubles to affirm. He had come to it without their knowledge, humbly, to ask its help. His witty speech faded in its atmosphere; and his heart beat violently. He was ashamed and afraid.
鍊樿嫢浣犻珮鎶吹鎵嬶紝瀹规垜鍚叾鑷劧锛屾垜灏变細鍗婄潯鍗婇啋鍦颁簡姝や竴鐢熴�傚綋鐒讹紝鎴戝湪鐞嗘櫤鏂归潰鏄竻閱掔殑锛屽湪鎰熸儏鏂归潰澶氬皯涔熲�︹�︾劧鑰岋紝杩欓噷鈥︹�︹�濅粬鐢ㄧ儫鏂楁焺鎸囦簡鎸囪嚜宸辩殑蹇冭剰銆備簬鏄紝涓や釜浜洪兘寰瑧浜嗐�備篃璁稿挶浠咯鏄簰鐩歌鍞ら啋浜嗐�傛垜鎯呮効杩欎箞鎯炽�傗��
"It isn't a mystery to me. But I honour anyone to whom it really is."