Dilnoza had rehearsed her speech all the way to the classroom. She had been practicing it since Monday, in the shower, on the bus, even during maths. "I respectfully believe that this essay deserves a higher mark." The B in the corner of the page had been written in green ink, with a small, calm flourish. It looked like a fact, not an opinion.
迪尔诺扎一路上都在默念她的发言稿，直到走进教室。从周一起她就一直在练：洗澡时、公交车上，甚至数学课上。“我恭敬地认为，这篇文章值得更高的分数。”页面角落里的那个B是用绿墨水写的，笔画带着一点从容的小弯钩。它看起来不像一种意见，倒像一个事实。
Her teacher was waiting at the desk with the essay already open. "Let's go through it together," she said. "You can stop me whenever you disagree."
老师已经坐在桌边，那篇文章也已摊开。“我们一起过一遍吧，”她说，“你不同意的地方，随时可以打断我。”
The essay was about whether a city should close its center to cars. Dilnoza had written it in a single night, fueled by tea and certainty, and she had been proud of how quickly the sentences had come. "I thought the argument was strong," she began. "It's clear. It's well written."
这篇文章讨论的是：城市是否应该禁止汽车进入市中心。迪尔诺扎是在一个晚上写完的，靠的是茶水和满满的自信，句子来得那么快，她还颇为得意。“我觉得论证很有力，”她开口说，“条理清楚，文笔也好。”
"It is well written," her teacher agreed. "Let's start with the opening, then." She ran a finger down the first margin note. Where does this statistic come from?
“文笔确实好，”老师同意道，“那我们先从开头看起。”她的手指顺着第一处页边批注往下移。这个数据是从哪里来的？
Dilnoza opened her mouth. The figure had come from something she had read, or possibly something someone had said. She couldn't remember. "I think it was an article," she said.
迪尔诺扎张了张嘴。那个数字来自她读过的什么东西，也可能是听别人说的。她想不起来了。“我想是一篇文章吧，”她说。
"You think." The teacher said it gently. "If a reader asked you the same question, what would you tell them?"
“你想是。”老师说得很温和，“如果有读者问你同样的问题，你会怎么回答他们？”
They moved on. The second paragraph had a note beside a sentence that began "Everybody knows." The third had a bracket around a sentence, with a comment: this contradicts your point in paragraph one. Dilnoza read it twice, then a third time, and felt her ears getting warm.
她们继续往下看。第二段里有一句话以“人人都知道”开头，旁边有批注。第三段里有一个句子被框了起来，批注写着：这与你在第一段的观点相矛盾。迪尔诺扎读了两遍，又读了第三遍，感觉耳朵渐渐发烫。
It did contradict it. She could see it clearly now, the way you see the dust on a table once someone has opened the curtains. In the same essay she had argued that shops would suffer and that shops would benefit. She had never noticed, because she had never read it back.
确实矛盾。她现在看得一清二楚，就像有人拉开窗帘后，你才看见桌子上的灰尘。同一篇文章里，她既论证了商店会受损，又论证了商店会受益。她一直没有发现，因为她从来没有把文章重新读一遍。
"I didn't give you a B for the writing," the teacher said. "The writing is an A. Your sentences are simply ahead of your evidence. That is the gap I marked."
“我给你B，不是因为文笔，”老师说，“文笔是A。只是你的句子跑在了证据前面。我标出来的就是这段差距。”
Dilnoza put the speech away somewhere at the back of her head. "If I rewrote it," she said slowly, "would it be an A?"
迪尔诺扎把那份发言稿收到了脑子的最深处。“如果我重写，”她慢慢地说，“能拿A吗？”
"If you rewrote it with sources, I would happily read it again. I can't promise a grade." The teacher almost smiled. "But I can promise to read the essay you could have written."
“如果你带着资料来源重写，我很乐意再读一遍。分数我不能保证。”老师几乎笑了，“但我可以保证，我会去读那篇你本来可以写出来的文章。”
They spent the rest of the afternoon with the page between them. The teacher drew a small table on the back: claim, source, counterargument. Dilnoza filled it in with a pencil, three rows at a time, and for once she did not hurry.
那个下午，她们剩下的时间都守着那页纸。老师在背面画了一张小表格：论点、来源、反方观点。迪尔诺扎用铅笔一次填三行，而这一回，她没有着急。
By the time the corridor lights switched off, the table had grown into a full plan. It had a new order for the paragraphs and two sources that still had to be found. In the middle, she would argue against herself on purpose.
等到走廊的灯熄灭时，那张表格已经长成了一份完整的提纲。段落有了新的顺序，还有两个资料来源有待查找。在中间，她要故意与自己唱反调。
She thanked her teacher, which she had not expected to do. Then she turned the essay over, plan side up, and read it again all the way down the empty corridor.
她向老师道了谢，这是她事先没想到的。然后她把文章翻过来，提纲朝上，沿着空荡荡的走廊一路又读了一遍。
