As for passepartout , his face was as red as the sun s disc when it sets in the mist , and he laboriously inhaled the biting air . with his natural buoyancy of spirits , he began to hope again 至于路路通，他的整个脸膛又圆又红，活象傍晚沉浸在薄雾里的太阳他正喝着那刺骨的寒风，他又恢复了他那种固有的信心，苏生了成功的希望。
