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。
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。
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