尤利西斯穿着他那当乞丐时穿的破烂衣服，从座位上站了起来。
他穿了一件破烂的黑色大衣，但是她能分辨出他的手上和脸上有血。
He was wearing a ragged black overcoat, but she could make out blood on his hands and face.
她赤着一双脚，穿一身破烂衣服，仍是那天那么坚定地走进他屋子时的那模样，不过她的破衣又多拖了两个月，洞更大了，烂布片也更脏了。
She was barefooted and in rags, as on the day when she had so resolutely entered his chamber, only her rags were two months older now, the holes were larger, the tatters more sordid.
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