“这里发生了一起谋杀案。” 她提醒他。“从今天下午四点开始就有人陆续来到这里。大多数人都带了野餐午餐。他们整个晚上都在街上走来走去，谈论已故的参议员佩维利和他的死亡方式，或者更确切地说，是被谋杀的方式。” 她补充道，“一半的人在盯着查理?豪森殡仪馆的正面，另一半的人在盯着我。”
“There’s been a murder here,” she reminded him. “People have been arriving since four o’clock this afternoon. Most of them brought a picnic lunch. They’ve been spending the evening walking up and down the street, talking about the late Senator Peveley and his manner of taking off, or rather, being took off.” She added, “Half of them have been looking at the front of Charlie Hausen’s Undertaking Parlor and the other half have been looking at me.”
“这里有个有趣的区别。” 马龙说，“但我就是说不清楚区别在哪里。”
“There’s an interesting distinction there,” Malone said, “but I can’t just put my finger on what it is.”
他的神经还因为坐公共汽车而震颤着。有那么一两次，他模糊地觉得自己站着没动，而街道在他面前移动。他刚想问海伦另一个问题，就在主街和第二街的拐角处，一个超重的农民家庭撞到了他们。等他们摆脱出来的时候，他已经放弃了那个问题。
His nerves were still tingling from the bus ride. Once or twice he had a vague notion that he was standing motionless, and the street was moving past him. He thought of another question to put to Helene, just as an overweight farm family crashed into them at the corner of Main and Second Streets. By the time they were disentangled he had given it up.
有树，在黑暗中几乎难以分辨，一片宽阔的草坪，亮着灯的窗户，还有一段台阶。马龙满足于自己还能呼吸，因为海伦拽着他进了门。
There were trees, almost indistinguishable from the darkness, a broad lawn, lighted windows, and a flight of steps. Malone contented himself with still being able to breathe, as Helene hauled him through the door.
他突然停了下来。在他面前有一条长长的走廊，两边是巨大的紧闭着的门。
He stopped suddenly. There was a long corridor ahead of him, lined with immense, closed doors.
“你要带我去哪儿？”
“Where are you taking me?”
“治安法官那儿。” 海伦说。“他是菲尔?史密斯。”
“The justice of the peace,” Helene said. “He’s Phil Smith.”
“很高兴听到这个。” 马龙说，“别那么着急。”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Malone said, “and don’t be in such a hurry.”
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