他不起床，将戴德伍德（Deadwood）扔到火上，火花带着真理和谎言飞来飞去，几个热点落在他们的手上和脸上，而不是第一次，他们滚入泥土中。一件事从未改变：他们不经常的耦合的出色指控被时间的飞行感，从未足够的时间，永远不够的。
(Without getting up he threw deadwood on the fire, the sparks flying up with their truths and lies, a few hot points of fire landing on their hands and faces, not for the first time, and they rolled down into the dirt. One thing never changed: the brilliant charge of their infrequent couplings was darkened by a sense of time flying, never enough time, never enough.)