It was five o'clock of a wet March evening when he walked into my down-at-heels brain emporium. He looked changed. Older, very sober and severe and beautifully calm. He looked like a guy who had learned to roll with a punch.

当他走进我衣衫褴褛的大脑商场时，那是一个潮湿的三月傍晚五点钟。他看起来变了。年纪大了，非常清醒和严厉，但又非常平静。他看起来就像一个学会了用拳打滚的人。