戴夫：不，先生。这不是我的衬衫。这是我的衬衫。我的衬衫是蓝色的。
DAVE: no, Sir. It's not my shirt. This is my shirt. My shirt's blue.
我没想瞪着他，但这是我至今见过的最老的人，这个人穿着整洁的衬衫和领带，头发浓密整齐，眼睛雪亮。
I didn't want to stare, but this was the oldest man I'd ever met, dressed neatly in shirt and tie, hair thick and tidy, eyes bright.
我不知道这是谁的衬衫，它被丢在更衣室里已有好几个月了。
I wonder whose shirt this is? It's been kicking about the changing room for months.
这是玛丽萨的房间。那是她的眼镜。我拿起它，用我的衬衫下摆擦拭。
Here was Marisa's. These were her glasses. I picked them up and cleaned them with the tail of my shirt.
走进屋子说，'让我为你熨我儿子的衬衫，'意味着对媳妇说，你认为这是她的活儿。
Walking into the house and saying, 'Let me iron my son's shirts for you,' implies to the daughter-in-law that you think that's her role, and she may bristle at that notion.
这是从一位设计师的成品系列中购买的一件白色网眼女式衬衫，那时我上大学一年级，是我母亲在一家马尼拉百货商店挑选的。
It's a white eyelet blouse from a designer's ready-to-wear line, which my mother picked out at a Manila department store during my college freshman year.
这是从一位设计师的成品系列中购买的一件白色网眼女式衬衫，那时我上大学一年级，是我母亲在一家马尼拉百货商店挑选的。
It's a white eyelet blouse from a designer's ready-to-wear line, which my mother picked out at a Manila department store during my college freshman year.
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