狄更斯的晨雾茫茫

不好意思，本来可以早点贴给你的，但出了一点问题，我一直回答不了。希望现在不会太晚。

　　英文版：
　　It was a rimy morning, and very damp. I had seen the damp lying on the outside of my little window, as if some goblin had been crying there all night, and using the window for a pocket-handkerchief. Now I saw the damp lying on the bare hedges and spare grass, like a coarser sort of spiders' webs; hanging itself from twig to twig and blade to blade. On every rail and gate, wet lay clammy,1 and the marsh-mist was so thick, that the wooden finger on the post directing people to our village -- a direction which they never accepted, for they never came there -- was invisible to me until I was quite close under it. Then, as I looked up at it, while it dripped, it seemed to my oppressed conscience like a phantom devoting me to the Hulks. 2 The mist was heavier yet when I got out upon the marshes, so that instead of my running at everything, everything seemed to run at me. This was very disagreeable to a guilty mind. The