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Myra
Two years ago that was, and since then Myra had been to see her mother three times, but her husband never. The old lady was eighty today. She had put on her best dress. Perhaps--perhaps Myra might come. After all, eighty was a special birthday; another decade lived or endured just as you chose to look at it. Even if Myra did not come, she would send a present. The old lady was sure of that. Two spots of color brightened her cheeks. She was excited--like a child. She would enjoy her day.
那是兩年以前的事了，打那以后，邁拉來看過她母親三次，可她丈夫卻一次也沒來過。 今天是老太太的八十壽辰。她穿上了最好的衣裙。也許——也許邁拉會來的吧。不管怎么說，八十大壽畢竟非同一般——你又活了十年，或者說又熬過了十年，是活是熬，全在于你怎么看了。 即使邁拉不來，她也會寄件禮物來的。老太太對這點是拿得準的。臉頰上的兩片紅暈，便她滿臉生輝。她心情激動——激動得像個小孩。她的這個生日一定會過得很快活。