The Count and the Wedding Guest

One evening when Andy Donovan went to dinner at his Second Avenue boarding-house, Mrs. Scott introduced him to a new boarder, a young lady, Miss Conway. Miss Conway was small and unobtrusive. She wore a plain, snuffy-brown dress, and bestowed her interest, which seemed languid, upon her plate. She lifted her diffident eyelids and shot one perspicuous, judicial glance at Mr. Donovan, politely murmured his name, and returned to her mutton. Mr. Donovan bowed with the grace and beaming smile that were rapidly winning for him social, business and political advancement, and erased the snuffy-brown one from the tablets of his consideration.

一天晚上，安迪·多诺万到他在第二大道上的公寓吃晚饭，斯科特太太把他介绍给一位新来的房客，一位年轻女士，康韦小姐。康韦小姐个子娇小，不太引人注目。她穿着一件朴素的、暗褐色的连衣裙，把自己那副显得有些倦怠的心思都放在了自己的盘子上。她抬起羞怯的眼睑，朝多诺万先生投去锐利而审慎的一瞥，礼貌地低声念出他的名字，随即又低头去吃她的羊肉了。多诺万先生带着那种正迅速为他赢得社交、生意与政治地位的优雅与灿烂笑容，微微鞠了一躬，随后便把这位暗褐色姑娘从自己的关注名单上抹去了。

Two weeks later Andy was sitting on the front steps enjoying his cigar. There was a soft rustle behind and above him, and Andy turned his head—and had his head turned.

两周之后，安迪坐在门前台阶上惬意地抽着雪茄。他身后上方传来一阵轻柔的窸窣声，安迪转过头去——这一转头，可就转出了名堂。

Just coming out the door was Miss Conway. She wore a night-black dress of crêpe de—crêpe de—oh, this thin black goods. Her hat was black, and from it drooped and fluttered an ebon veil, filmy as a spider’s web. She stood on the top step and drew on black silk gloves. Not a speck of white or a spot of color about her dress anywhere.

正好从门里走出来的是康韦小姐。她穿着一身黑得如夜的裙子，是那种绉纱做的——绉纱的——哦，就是那种薄薄的黑料子。她的帽子也是黑色的，帽檐垂下一层如蛛网般轻盈飘拂的黑纱。她站在最高一级台阶上，戴上了黑绸手套。她全身上下，找不出一丝白色，也找不出一点别的颜色。

Her rich golden hair was drawn, with scarcely a ripple, into a shining, smooth knot low on her neck. Her face was plain rather than pretty, but it was now illuminated and made almost beautiful by her large gray eyes that gazed above the houses across the street into the sky with an expression of the most appealing sadness and melancholy.

她那头浓密的金发几乎不见一丝波纹地挽起，在颈后低低地束成一个光滑发亮的髻。她的容貌算不上漂亮，倒该说是平淡；可此刻，因为那双凝望着街对面屋顶、望向天空的灰色大眼睛里透出的那种极其动人的哀伤与忧郁神情，她的脸竟被照亮了，几乎显出几分美来。

Gather the idea, girls—all black, you know, with the preference for crêpe de—oh, crêpe de Chine—that’s it. All black, and that sad, faraway look, and the hair shining under the black veil (you have to be a blonde, of course), and try to look as if, although your young life had been blighted just as it was about to give a hop-skip-and-a-jump over the threshold of life, a walk in the park might do you good, and be sure to happen out the door at the right moment, and—oh, it’ll fetch ’em every time. But it’s fierce, now, how cynical I am, ain’t it?—to talk about mourning costumes this way.

姑娘们，把这诀窍记下来吧——通身黑色，你知道的，最好是绉纱——哦，是双绉——没错，就是这个。通身黑色，加上那种哀伤、遥远的眼神，还有那在黑纱下闪着光泽的头发（当然了，你得是个金发女郎才行），再装出一副神情，仿佛你年轻的生命正要迈过门槛、蹦跳着走向人生，却在这一刻被摧毁了似的——去公园走一走或许对你有好处——还有，一定要在恰到好处的时刻从门里走出来——哦，这一招屡试不爽。不过，瞧我这样冷嘲热讽地谈论丧服，是不是挺吓人的？

Mr. Donovan suddenly reinscribed Miss Conway upon the tablets of his consideration. He threw away the remaining inch-and-a-quarter of his cigar, that would have been good for eight minutes yet, and quickly shifted his center of gravity to his low cut patent leathers.

多诺万先生立刻把康韦小姐重新写回了自己的关注名单上。他把手中那还剩一寸半、本还能再抽上八分钟的雪茄扔掉了，迅速把自己的重心挪到那双低帮漆皮鞋上。

“It’s a fine, clear evening, Miss Conway,” he said; and if the Weather Bureau could have heard the confident emphasis of his tones it would have hoisted the square white signal, and nailed it to the mast.

“今晚天气真好，晴朗极了，康韦小姐，”他说道；要是气象局能听见他语气里那份笃定的强调，恐怕都要升起那面白色方旗，牢牢钉在旗杆上了。

“To them that has the heart to enjoy it, it is, Mr. Donovan,” said Miss Conway, with a sigh.

“对那些有心情享受它的人来说，的确如此，多诺万先生，”康韦小姐叹了口气说道。

Mr. Donovan, in his heart, cursed fair weather. Heartless weather! It should hail and blow and snow to be consonant with the mood of Miss Conway.

多诺万先生心里暗暗咒骂这好天气。这没心没肺的天气！它本该冰雹交加、狂风大作、大雪纷飞，才配得上康韦小姐此刻的心境。

“I hope none of your relatives—I hope you haven’t sustained a loss?” ventured Mr. Donovan.

“我希望您的亲属没有——我希望您没有遭遇什么不幸吧？”多诺万先生试探着问道。

“Death has claimed,” said Miss Conway, hesitating—“not a relative, but one who—but I will not intrude my grief upon you, Mr. Donovan.”

“死神夺走了……”康韦小姐犹豫着说道，“不是我的亲人，而是一位……不过，我不想把我的悲伤强加给您，多诺万先生。”

“Intrude?” protested Mr. Donovan. “Why, say, Miss Conway, I’d be delighted, that is, I’d be sorry—I mean I’m sure nobody could sympathize with you truer than I would.”

“强加？”多诺万先生连忙反驳道，“哪里的话，康韦小姐，我会很乐意——我是说，我会很难过——我是说，我相信没有谁能比我更真诚地同情您了。”

Miss Conway smiled a little smile. And oh, it was sadder than her expression in repose.

康韦小姐微微一笑。哦，那笑容竟比她平静时的神情更加令人心酸。

“‘Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and they give you the laugh,’” she quoted. “I have learned that, Mr. Donovan. I have no friends or acquaintances in this city. But you have been kind to me. I appreciate it highly.”

“‘你笑，全世界便与你同笑；你哭，人们却拿你的哭来取笑，’”她引用道，“这个道理我算是领教了，多诺万先生。我在这座城市里，没有一个朋友，也没有一个熟人。可您待我很好。我打心底里感激您。”

He had passed her the pepper twice at the table.

他在餐桌上给她递过两次胡椒粉。

“It’s tough to be alone in New York—that’s a cinch,” said Mr. Donovan. “But, say—whenever this little old town does loosen up and get friendly it goes the limit. Say you took a little stroll in the park, Miss Conway—don’t you think it might chase away some of your mullygrubs? And if you’d allow me—”

“一个人在纽约，那滋味真不好受——这是肯定的，”多诺万先生说道，“不过，话说回来——这座古老的小城一旦对你敞开心扉、变得友好起来，那可是没有分寸的。要不您不妨去公园里散散步，康韦小姐——您觉得那能不能驱散一点您的愁绪？要是您愿意的话，我可以——”

“Thanks, Mr. Donovan. I’d be pleased to accept of your escort if you think the company of one whose heart is filled with gloom could be anyways agreeable to you.”

“谢谢您，多诺万先生。要是您觉得，陪伴一个心里满是愁云的人，多少还能让您觉得愉快，那我很乐意接受您的陪同。”

Through the open gates of the iron-railed, old, downtown park, where the elect once took the air, they strolled, and found a quiet bench.

穿过那铁栏围着的老城区公园的大门——从前那些上流人士常来这里散步——他们俩走了进去，找到一张安静的长椅坐了下来。

There is this difference between the grief of youth and that of old age: youth’s burden is lightened by as much of it as another shares; old age may give and give, but the sorrow remains the same.

年轻人的悲伤和老年人的悲伤，有这样一点不同：年轻人的重担，只要有人分担一分，便能减轻一分；而老年人即便一味地付出、一味地分担，那悲伤却分毫不减。

“He was my fiance,” confided Miss Conway, at the end of an hour. “We were going to be married next spring. I don’t want you to think that I am stringing you, Mr. Donovan, but he was a real Count. He had an estate and a castle in Italy. Count Fernando Mazzini was his name. I never saw the beat of him for elegance. Papa objected, of course, and once we eloped, but papa overtook us, and took us back. I thought sure papa and Fernando would fight a duel. Papa has a livery business—in P’kipsee, you know.”

“他是我的未婚夫，”一个钟头之后，康韦小姐才吐露道，“我们本打算明年春天成婚的。我不希望您以为我是在编故事骗您，多诺万先生，可他确实是位正儿八经的伯爵。他在意大利有一处庄园和一座城堡。他名叫费尔南多·马奇尼伯爵。我从没见过比他更风度翩翩的人了。当然了，我爸爸反对这门亲事，我们还私奔过一回，可爸爸追上了我们，把我们又带了回去。我当时真以为爸爸和费尔南多要决斗了呢。我爸爸做的是马车行的生意——就在波基普西，您知道的。”

“Finally, papa came ’round, all right, and said we might be married next spring. Fernando showed him proofs of his title and wealth, and then went over to Italy to get the castle fixed up for us. Papa’s very proud, and when Fernando wanted to give me several thousand dollars for my trousseau he called him down something awful. He wouldn’t even let me take a ring or any presents from him. And when Fernando sailed I came to the city and got a position as cashier in a candy store.”

“最后，爸爸总算是想通了，答应我们明年春天成婚。费尔南多把他的爵位和财产证明都拿给爸爸看，然后就动身去意大利，去把那座城堡收拾妥当，好等我们过去。我爸爸这人很要面子，费尔南多想给我几千块钱置办嫁妆的时候，他把费尔南多狠狠训了一顿，什么都不肯让我从他那儿收，连一枚戒指或别的礼物都不行。等费尔南多坐船走了以后，我就来到这座城市，在一家糖果店里找了份出纳的活儿干。”

“Three days ago I got a letter from Italy, forwarded from P’kipsee, saying that Fernando had been killed in a gondola accident.”

“三天前，我收到一封从意大利寄来的信，是从波基普西转过来的，信上说费尔南多在一次坐贡多拉时出了事故，去世了。”

“That is why I am in mourning. My heart, Mr. Donovan, will remain forever in his grave. I guess I am poor company, Mr. Donovan, but I cannot take any interest in no one. I should not care to keep you from gayety and your friends who can smile and entertain you. Perhaps you would prefer to walk back to the house?”

“这就是我为什么要穿丧服的缘故。多诺万先生，我的心，将永远留在他的坟墓里了。我知道我算不上什么好伴儿，多诺万先生，可我实在对谁都提不起兴致来。我也不想耽误您去寻欢作乐，去陪那些能陪您说笑解闷的朋友们。或许您更愿意咱们这就往回走吧？”

Now, girls, if you want to observe a young man hustle out after a pick and shovel, just tell him that your heart is in some other fellow’s grave. Young men are grave-robbers by nature. Ask any widow. Something must be done to restore that missing organ to weeping angels in _crêpe de Chine_. Dead men certainly get the worst of it from all sides.

好了，姑娘们，你们要是想看一个年轻人急急忙忙跑去拿铲子和锹，只消告诉他你的心已经埋进了另一个男人的坟墓里就行了。年轻人骨子里都是掘墓贼。随便问问哪位寡妇便知道了。总得想个法子，把那颗遗失的心脏还给那些穿着双绉丧服哭泣的天使们才行。看来死人不管从哪个角度看，都是吃亏的那一个。

“I’m awfully sorry,” said Mr. Donovan, gently. “No, we won’t walk back to the house just yet. And don’t say you haven’t no friends in this city, Miss Conway. I’m awful sorry, and I want you to believe I’m your friend, and that I’m awful sorry.”

“我实在很难过，”多诺万先生轻声说道，“不，我们先别急着往回走。也别再说您在这座城市里没有一个朋友了，康韦小姐。我真的很难过，我希望您相信，我是您的朋友，我真的、真的很难过。”

“I’ve got his picture here in my locket,” said Miss Conway, after wiping her eyes with her handkerchief. “I never showed it to anybody; but I will to you, Mr. Donovan, because I believe you to be a true friend.”

“我这儿的小盒坠里，有他的一张照片，”康韦小姐用手帕擦过眼睛之后说道，“我从没给别人看过；可我愿意给您看，多诺万先生，因为我相信您是位真心的朋友。”

Mr. Donovan gazed long and with much interest at the photograph in the locket that Miss Conway opened for him. The face of Count Mazzini was one to command interest. It was a smooth, intelligent, bright, almost a handsome face—the face of a strong, cheerful man who might well be a leader among his fellows.

多诺万先生久久地、饶有兴致地凝视着康韦小姐为他打开的那枚小盒坠里的照片。马奇尼伯爵那张脸，确实令人过目难忘。那是一张平整、聪慧、神采飞扬、几乎称得上英俊的脸——是那种强健、开朗，堪当同伴中领袖人物的脸。

“I have a larger one, framed, in my room,” said Miss Conway. “When we return I will show you that. They are all I have to remind me of Fernando. But he ever will be present in my heart, that’s a sure thing.”

“我房间里还有一张更大的，配了框，”康韦小姐说道，“等我们回去，我拿给您看。这些是我唯一能用来怀念费尔南多的东西了。不过，他将永远活在我心里，这一点是肯定的。”

A subtle task confronted Mr. Donovan,—that of supplanting the unfortunate Count in the heart of Miss Conway. This his admiration for her determined him to do. But the magnitude of the undertaking did not seem to weigh upon his spirits. The sympathetic but cheerful friend was the rôle he essayed; and he played it so successfully that the next half-hour found them conversing pensively across two plates of ice-cream, though yet there was no diminution of the sadness in Miss Conway’s large gray eyes.

一项微妙的任务摆在了多诺万先生面前——那就是取代那位不幸的伯爵，在康韦小姐心中占据一席之地。他对她的爱慕之情，让他下定决心要做到这一点。可这项任务的艰巨程度，似乎并没有压垮他的兴致。他扮演的角色，是一个既能给予同情、又不失开朗的朋友；他演得如此成功，以至于接下来的半个钟头里，两人对着两盘冰淇淋，若有所思地聊着天，尽管康韦小姐那双灰色大眼睛里的哀伤，却丝毫没有减退。

Before they parted in the hall that evening she ran upstairs and brought down the framed photograph wrapped lovingly in a white silk scarf. Mr. Donovan surveyed it with inscrutable eyes.

那天晚上，两人在门厅道别之前，她跑上楼去，拿下来那张配了框的照片，用一条白色丝巾细心地包着。多诺万先生用一种令人捉摸不透的目光打量着它。

“He gave me this the night he left for Italy,” said Miss Conway. “I had the one for the locket made from this.”

“这是他动身去意大利的那晚送给我的，”康韦小姐说道，“我那张放在盒坠里的照片，就是照这张洗出来的小样。”

“A fine-looking man,” said Mr. Donovan, heartily. “How would it suit you, Miss Conway, to give me the pleasure of your company to Coney next Sunday afternoon?”

“真是个仪表堂堂的男人，”多诺万先生由衷地说道，“康韦小姐，下星期天下午，赏光陪我去趟科尼岛，您意下如何？”

A month later they announced their engagement to Mrs. Scott and the other boarders. Miss Conway continued to wear black.

一个月之后，他们向斯科特太太和其他房客宣布了订婚的消息。康韦小姐依旧穿着一身黑。

A week after the announcement the two sat on the same bench in the downtown park, while the fluttering leaves of the trees made a dim kinetoscopic picture of them in the moonlight. But Donovan had worn a look of abstracted gloom all day. He was so silent to-night that love’s lips could not keep back any longer the questions that love’s heart propounded.

宣布订婚一周之后，两人又坐在城区公园里的那张长椅上，树叶在月光下摇曳，把两人的身影映成一幅朦胧闪动的画面。可多诺万这一整天都显出一副心不在焉、闷闷不乐的神情。今晚他沉默得实在厉害，以至于爱人的双唇再也按捺不住爱人心底的疑问了。

“What’s the matter, Andy, you are so solemn and grouchy to-night?”

“怎么了，安迪，你今晚怎么这么严肃、这么闷闷不乐的？”

“Nothing, Maggie.”

“没什么，玛吉。”

“I know better. Can’t I tell? You never acted this way before. What is it?”

“我才不信呢。我还看不出来吗？你以前从没这样过。到底是怎么回事？”

“It’s nothing much, Maggie.”

“也没什么大不了的，玛吉。”

“Yes it is; and I want to know. I’ll bet it’s some other girl you are thinking about. All right. Why don’t you go get her if you want her? Take your arm away, if you please.”

“不，肯定有事；我要知道。我打赌你是在想别的哪个姑娘。好啊。你要是喜欢她，怎么不去追她呢？把你的胳膊拿开，劳驾。”

“I’ll tell you then,” said Andy, wisely, “but I guess you won’t understand it exactly. You’ve heard of Mike Sullivan, haven’t you? ‘Big Mike’ Sullivan, everybody calls him.”

“那我就告诉你吧，”安迪郑重地说道，“不过我猜你未必能完全明白。你听说过迈克·沙利文吧？大伙儿都叫他‘大迈克’沙利文。”

“No, I haven’t,” said Maggie. “And I don’t want to, if he makes you act like this. Who is he?”

“没有，我没听说过，”玛吉说道，“要是他能让你变成这副样子，我也不想认识他。他是谁呀？”

“He’s the biggest man in New York,” said Andy, almost reverently. “He can about do anything he wants to with Tammany or any other old thing in the political line. He’s a mile high and as broad as East River. You say anything against Big Mike, and you’ll have a million men on your collarbone in about two seconds. Why, he made a visit over to the old country awhile back, and the kings took to their holes like rabbits.

“他是纽约城里最有头有脸的人物，”安迪几乎是带着几分敬意说道，“坦慕尼协会也好，政界的其他什么事也罢，他想怎么摆布就怎么摆布。他这个人，个子高得跟座山似的，肩膀宽得跟东河一样。你要是敢说大迈克半句坏话，不出两秒钟，就有上百万人压到你脖子上来。他前阵子回了趟老家欧洲，那些个国王吓得跟兔子似的钻进了自己的洞里。”

“Well, Big Mike’s a friend of mine. I ain’t more than deuce-high in the district as far as influence goes, but Mike’s as good a friend to a little man, or a poor man as he is to a big one. I met him to-day on the Bowery, and what do you think he does? Comes up and shakes hands.

“好吧，大迈克是我的朋友。要论在这一带的影响力，我顶多算个末流角色，可迈克对小人物、穷人的情谊，跟对大人物的一样好。今天我在包厘街上碰见他，你猜他怎么着？走过来跟我握手。”

“‘Andy,’ says he, ‘I’ve been keeping cases on you. You’ve been putting in some good licks over on your side of the street, and I’m proud of you. What’ll you take to drink?” He takes a cigar, and I take a highball. I told him I was going to get married in two weeks. ‘Andy,’ says he, ‘send me an invitation, so I’ll keep in mind of it, and I’ll come to the wedding.’ That’s what Big Mike says to me; and he always does what he says.

“他说：‘安迪，我一直在留意你。你在你那一片干得挺不错，我为你感到骄傲。喝点什么？’他拿了根雪茄，我要了杯威士忌苏打。我告诉他，我两周后就要结婚了。他说：‘安迪，给我发张请帖，好让我记着这事儿，我会去参加婚礼的。’这就是大迈克跟我说的话；他向来说到做到。”

“You don’t understand it, Maggie, but I’d have one of my hands cut off to have Big Mike Sullivan at our wedding. It would be the proudest day of my life. When he goes to a man’s wedding, there’s a guy being married that’s made for life. Now, that’s why I’m maybe looking sore to-night.”

“你可能不明白，玛吉，可只要能让大迈克·沙利文来参加咱们的婚礼，就是砍掉我一只手我都愿意。那会是我这辈子最自豪的一天。他要是去参加谁的婚礼，那个新郎这辈子就算是有了着落了。所以你瞧，今晚我这脸色，说不定就是为了这事儿。”

“Why don’t you invite him, then, if he’s so much to the mustard?” said Maggie, lightly.

“那你怎么不干脆请他呢，既然他这么了不起？”玛吉不以为意地说道。

“There’s a reason why I can’t,” said Andy, sadly. “There’s a reason why he mustn’t be there. Don’t ask me what it is, for I can’t tell you.”

“有个原因，我没法请他，”安迪伤感地说道，“有个原因，他绝不能来。别问我是什么原因，我说不出口。”

“Oh, I don’t care,” said Maggie. “It’s something about politics, of course. But it’s no reason why you can’t smile at me.”

“哦，我才不管呢，”玛吉说道，“反正肯定是跟政治有关的事儿。可这也不能成为你不冲我笑一笑的理由呀。”

“Maggie,” said Andy, presently, “do you think as much of me as you did of your—as you did of the Count Mazzini?”

“玛吉，”过了一会儿，安迪说道，“你觉得，你待我的这份心，比得上你从前……比得上你从前待马奇尼伯爵的那份心吗？”

He waited a long time, but Maggie did not reply. And then, suddenly she leaned against his shoulder and began to cry—to cry and shake with sobs, holding his arm tightly, and wetting the crêpe de Chine with tears.

他等了好久，玛吉都没有答话。随后，她忽然靠在他肩上哭了起来——哭得浑身发颤，双手紧紧抓着他的胳膊，泪水浸湿了那件双绉的裙子。

“There, there, there!” soothed Andy, putting aside his own trouble. “And what is it, now?”

“好了，好了，好了！”安迪把自己的心事撇到一边，安慰道，“到底怎么了，现在？”

“Andy,” sobbed Maggie. “I’ve lied to you, and you’ll never marry me, or love me any more. But I feel that I’ve got to tell. Andy, there never was so much as the little finger of a count. I never had a beau in my life. But all the other girls had; and they talked about ’em; and that seemed to make the fellows like ’em more.

“安迪，”玛吉抽泣着说道，“我一直在骗你，你以后再也不会娶我了，也不会再爱我了。可我觉得，我必须得说出来。安迪，从来就没有什么伯爵，连个影儿都没有。我这辈子从没交过男朋友。可别的姑娘都有，她们都在谈论自己的男朋友；这么一来，男人们好像反倒更喜欢她们了。”

“And, Andy, I look swell in black—you know I do. So I went out to a photograph store and bought that picture, and had a little one made for my locket, and made up all that story about the Count, and about his being killed, so I could wear black. And nobody can love a liar, and you’ll shake me, Andy, and I’ll die for shame. Oh, there never was anybody I liked but you—and that’s all.”

“还有，安迪，我穿黑色显得特别好看——你知道的，我确实这样。所以我就去了一家照相馆，买了那张照片，又配了个小样做成盒坠里的那张，编出了那整个关于伯爵的故事，还编了他去世的事，好让自己能穿一身黑。谁也不会爱上一个撒谎的人，你会甩了我的，安迪，我会羞愧得要死。哦，我这辈子从没喜欢过别人，只喜欢你——就是这样。”

But instead of being pushed away, she found Andy’s arm folding her closer. She looked up and saw his face cleared and smiling.

可她非但没有被推开，反而发觉安迪的胳膊把她搂得更紧了。她抬起头，看见他脸上的阴霾已经散去，露出了笑容。

“Could you—could you forgive me, Andy?”

“你能——你能原谅我吗，安迪？”

“Sure,” said Andy. “It’s all right about that. Back to the cemetery for the Count. You’ve straightened everything out, Maggie. I was in hopes you would before the wedding-day. Bully girl!”

“当然能，”安迪说道，“这事儿没关系。让那位伯爵回坟墓里去吧。你把一切都说清楚了，玛吉。我原本还盼着你能在婚礼之前说出来呢。好姑娘！”

“Andy,” said Maggie, with a somewhat shy smile, after she had been thoroughly assured of forgiveness, “did you believe all that story about the Count?”

“安迪，”在彻底确信自己已被原谅之后，玛吉带着几分羞涩的笑容说道，“你是真信了关于那位伯爵的整个故事吗？”

“Well, not to any large extent,” said Andy, reaching for his cigar case, “because it’s Big Mike Sullivan’s picture you’ve got in that locket of yours.”

“唔，也没怎么全信，”安迪一边说着，一边伸手去拿他的雪茄盒，“因为你那盒坠里装的，其实是大迈克·沙利文的照片啊。”