It became December. (I have been at Ault seventy-eight days.)
十二月了，我来奥尔特已经78天了。
I think, looking back, that this was the single best thing about Ault, the sense of possibility.
如果回头来看，我想这是奥尔特最了不起的一点：让你感到还有可能。
The only Henry at Ault was Henry Thorpe, who I knew was currently going out with a prissy-seeming sophomore named Molly.
在奥尔特，“亨利”只指亨利·骚伯，而我知道，他现在和一个二年级的、看起来循规蹈矩、叫茉莉的女生交往。
I had forgotten myself, and I had forgotten Ault, at least the real, three-dimensional version in which I, too, was a presence.
之前，我忘记了自己，忘记了奥尔特，至少忘记了那个真实的，三维的，我存在于其间的奥尔特。
It was not clear to me how I’d arrived at this juncture gradewise, because before entering Ault, I’d never received lower than a B plus in any class.
我不明白自己在成绩上怎么沦落到如此田地，进奥尔特之前，任何功课我的分数都不低于B+。
At Ault, I doubted I would ever need a second blue book because even my handwriting had changed-once my letters had been bubbly and messy, and now they were thin and small.
在奥尔特，我怀疑自己不会再需要第二本蓝皮本了，因为连我笔迹都改变了——我的字体曾经凌乱而有生气，现在却是又细又小。
You knew you had mail because you saw it in profile, leaning diagonally against the wall of your box, and years later, after I was gone from Ault, I dreamed sometimes that I saw that skinny shadow.
我走过去，要从侧面，斜对着你的信箱，才能看到里面有没有信。多年以后，离开了奥尔特，我依然还有时会梦见那斜斜的一条影子。
You knew you had mail because you saw it in profile, leaning diagonally against the wall of your box, and years later, after I was gone from Ault, I dreamed sometimes that I saw that skinny shadow.
我走过去，要从侧面，斜对着你的信箱，才能看到里面有没有信。多年以后，离开了奥尔特，我依然还有时会梦见那斜斜的一条影子。
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