Or perhaps it was because on his last visit to this house he had stood in this very hall and watched a murderer make a last, desperate, and unsuccessful break for escape. He told himself that was the reason, and all the time he knew that wasn’t it. It might have been a feeling in his bones, it might have been some heightened perception developed from years of contact with those who had broken the law, it might have been some inexplicable premonition, but whatever it was, he knew that the old McClane mansion had not yet given up its last tragedy.
他告诉自己，他是一个该死的迷信的爱尔兰人，然后他走进了客厅。
He was, he told himself, a damned superstitious Irishman, and he went on into the living room.
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