“十，九，八，七，六……”他数着。

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six...," he says.

youdao

他数着皮面上的皱纹，这曾经是另一个人暖脚的窝。

He counted the creases of rucked leather wherein another's foot had nested warm.

youdao

他数着，一、二、三。他不断地数着，他能够听到血液在他胸中的流动。

He counted. One, two, three. He counted steadily. He could hear the movement of blood in his chest.

youdao

He went 70. I tingled all over. I counted minutes and subtracted miles.

他其实有70了，我太激动了，算着时间和英里数。

耶鲁公开课 - 1945年后的美国小说课程节选