“魔力,”瞎子对我说:“在手中。”他举起那只满是老人斑的左手摇晃着。“如果你看看坩埚,我不会让你看的,你在那里找不出你能看懂的东西。那里面只是些碎象牙和碎骨头,以及像个微型竖琴那样的东西。你会感觉到失望。” “Magic,” the blind man said to me: “In my hand.” He raised his left hand, full of age spots, shaking. “If you look at the crucible, I will not let you see, where you can not find anything you can understand, there are only broken ivory and broken bones, and something like a mini harp you will Feeling disappointed. ”