Mr. Clark stood rapt in amazement: observing under his breath, I never saw such a start on this wharf before. Walter picked up the shoe, and put it on the little foot as the Prince in the story might have fitted Cinderella's slipper on. He hung the rabbit-skin over his left arm; gave the right to Florence; and felt, not to say like Richard Whittington - that is a tame comparison - but like Saint George of England, with the dragon lying dead before him.
克拉克先生惊异得目瞪口呆，低声说道，“?我在这码头上还从没见过这样的怪事。”沃尔特捡起鞋子，把它穿在那只小小的脚上，就像故事中的王子给灰姑娘试穿舞鞋一样①。他把兔皮挂在左胳膊上，又把右胳膊伸给弗洛伦斯，觉得自己不是像理查德?惠廷顿（那样的比方太陈腐无奇了），而是像脚下躺着一条死龙的英格兰的圣徒乔治②。
'Don't
cry,
Miss
Dombey,
'
said
Walter,
in
a
transport
of
enthusiasm.
'What
a
wonderful
thing
for
me
that
I
am
here!
You
are
as
safe
now
as
if
you
were
guarded
by
a
whole
boat's
crew
of
picked
men
from
a
man-
of-
war.
Oh,
don't
cry.
'
“别哭了，董贝小姐，”沃尔特热情奔放地说道，“对我来说，我在这里真是一件多么好的事啊！您现在非常安全，就像由军舰上最优秀的一队海军保护着一样！啊，别哭了！”
'I
won't
cry
anymore,
'
said
Florence.
'I
am
only
crying
for
joy.
'
“我不再哭了，”弗洛伦斯 说道，“我现在是因为快乐才哭的。”
'Crying
for
joy!
'
thought
Walter,
'and
I'm
the
cause
of
it!
Come
along,
Miss
Dombey.
There's
the
other
shoe
off
now!
Take
mine,
Miss
Dombey.
'
“因为快乐才哭的！”沃尔特想道，“而我是她快乐的原因！”“我们 走吧，董贝小姐。现在您的另一只鞋子掉了！您就穿我的鞋子吧，董贝小姐。”
'No,
no,
no,
'
said
Florence,
checking
him
in
the
act
of
impetuously
pulling
off
his
own.
'These
do
better.
These
do
very
well.
'
“不，不，不，”他性急地要把自己的鞋子脱下来；弗洛伦斯拦住他，不让他脱；“我穿这双鞋子更好。这双鞋子对我很合适。”
'Why,
to
be
sure,
'
said
Walter,
glancing
at
her
foot,
'mine
are
a
mile
too
large.
What
am
I
thinking
about!
You
never
could
walk
in
mine!
Come
along,
Miss
Dombey.
Let
me
see
the
villain
who
will
dare
molest
you
now.
'
“唔，那倒是真的，”沃尔特向她的脚望了一眼，说道，“我的鞋子太长了，长 出一英里。我刚才怎么没想到这一点呢！您穿了?我?的鞋子就根本没法走路了！我们走吧，董贝小姐，让我看有哪个坏蛋敢来欺负您！”
So
Walter,
looking
immensely
fierce,
led
off
Florence,
looking
very
happy;
and
they
went
arm-
in-
arm
along
the
streets,
perfectly
indifferent
to
any
astonishment
that
their
appearance
might
or
did
excite
by
the
way.
就这样，看上去无限勇猛的沃尔特领着看上去十分快乐的弗洛伦斯走了；他们手挽手地沿着街道走去；至于他们的样子在路上是否可能引起人们的惊奇或者实际上已经引起了，他们都毫不在意。
It
was
growing
dark
and
foggy,
and
beginning
to
rain
too;
but
they
cared
nothing
for
this:
being
both
wholly
absorbed
in
the
late
adventures
of
Florence,
which
she
related
with
the
innocent
good
faith
and
confidence
of
her
years,
while
Walter
listened
as
if,
far
from
the
mud
and
grease
of
Thames
Street,
they
were
rambling
alone
among
the
broad
leaves
and
tall
trees
of
some
desert
island
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