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文学翻译实践（五） One evening, a few days afterwards, at her home, we were going over some new songs and compositions, when she asked me, as she often did, to play the 13th Nocturne. When I began she drew a chair near to my right, and sat leaning with her elbow on the end of the piano, her chin resting on her hand, and her eyes reflecting the emotions which the music awoke in her. An impulse which I could not control rushed over me, a wave of exaltation, the music under my fingers sank almost to a whisper, and calling her for the first time by her Christian name, but without daring to look at her, I s