朱翻译
我写的双语小说《好运的代价》The Cost of Fortune他是个外乡人，是个衣领扣得死紧、浑身透着土气的乡巴佬，连周围的空气都因他而变得粗粝。荷官们甚至懒得露出完整的讥笑，仅仅是鼻翼微微一翕，嘴角轻轻抽搐着绷紧，仿佛都在默念同一条本地判词：“瞧这乡巴佬，还真以为自己能在这儿混出头。”一个身穿修身马甲的男人悄无声息地滑入了他的余光。他的头发像刷了清漆般向后贴服，一丝不乱。He was an outsider—a stiff, starched provincial—and the air around him felt coarse. The dealers didn't even bother with full sneers; it was merely a flicker of the nostrils, a tightening at the corners of the mouth, as if they were all silently reciting the same local verdict: Look at this hayseed. He actually thinks he can make it here.A man in a tailored vest glided into his periphery. His hair was shellacked back with merciless precision.
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