有一年多,在下午五点二十二分左右西郊列车到达林肯站时,沃尔特·梅森和那个一只耳朵的女人都要相互点头致意。当他拎着公文包走下陡峭的金属梯阶时,她总是站在木头站台上等待乘车的一小队乘客的队尾处附近。如果天下小雨或小雪,她会拿张报纸遮在头上。有时她又会仰面朝天,嘴略略张开,仿佛口渴似的。下大雨时,她则打着把小黄伞,而其他的乘客则躲在附近商店的屋檐下等车。她总是提着个塞得鼓鼓囊囊的白色购物袋,但从 For more than a year, Walter Mason and the woman with one ear had to nod each other when the western suburbs arrived at Lincoln Station at about 5.22pm. When he was carrying a briefcase down a steep metal ladder, she always stood near the tail of a small group of passengers waiting on the wood platform. If it is raining or snowing, she will cover her head with sheets of paper. Sometimes she will face up again, his mouth slightly open, as if thirsty. When it rains, she names small yellow umbrellas while other passengers hide under the eaves of nearby shops. She always carried a stuffy white shopping bag, but from