Although her eyes were closed, Sethe knew his gaze was on her face, and a paper picture of just how bad she must look raised itself up before her mind's eye. Still, there was no mockery coming from his gaze. Soft. It felt soft in a waiting kind of way. He was not judging her — or rather he was judging but not comparing her. Not since Halle had a man looked at her that way: not loving or passionate, but interested, as though he were examining an ear of corn for quality. Halle was more like a brother than a husband.

盡管她雙眼緊閉，Sethe還是知道他在凝視著她的臉。一幅描繪她看起來多么糟糕的紙畫，在她思維的眼睛面前自動升了起來。他的凝視仍然不帶有半分嘲弄。非常溫和。那是一種非常溫和的等待。他并沒有審視她——或者倒不如說他是在審視，但并沒有拿她作比較。自從Halle之后，從沒有一個男人這樣看著他：并不是飽含愛意或熱情，而是感興趣，似乎他是在檢測一根玉米的質(zhì)量。比起丈夫Halle更像是一個兄弟。