马龙礼貌地问她是否也来自芝加哥。
Malone asked her politely if she too came from Chicago.
“是的，确实。我出生在这里，在这里长大。我们一直住在东方只是因为迈克尔喜欢那里。” 她说话的方式奇怪地急促而紧张。马龙突然有种感觉，不管迈克尔感觉如何，她并不怎么喜欢东方。
“Yes, indeed. I was born here, and I grew up here. We’ve only lived in the Orient all this time because Michael liked it.” She spoke in an oddly jerky, nervous manner. Malone had a sudden notion that however Michael might have felt, she hadn’t liked the Orient much.
“我们时不时会去欧洲。” 文宁说，好像他并不指望有人会在意。
“We went over to Europe now and then,” Venning said, as though he didn’t expect anyone to care.
马龙的注意力分散了。他想起了彭德利?泰德韦尔，不知道他冲洗照片进行得怎么样了。另一个女人走进房间，在伊迪莎?文宁旁边坐下。莫娜?麦克莱恩介绍她是卢埃拉?怀特。
Malone’s attention wandered. He thought of Pendley Tidewell and wondered how he was getting on with his developing. Another woman entered the room and sat down close to Editha Venning. Mona McClane introduced her as Louella White.
马龙记起来了，这是伊迪莎?文宁的同伴。她看起来就像一座军人和水手纪念碑一样不亲切。卢埃拉?怀特是个大块头的女人，胸部丰满，脚很平，脚踝很粗，胳膊很结实，穿着一件不好看且非常朴素的棕色缎面连衣裙。她那毫无表情的大脸像商业区小巷一侧的建筑物一样坚硬、不妥协且毫无装饰，只是她的眉毛被修成了细细的弯曲线条。她那卷曲的头发是红棕色的，马龙觉得可能是染的。她打开一个编织袋，拿出一件不成形的东西和一大团深灰色的毛线，然后以机器般的节奏开始编织起来。
This was Editha Venning’s panion, Malone remembered. She looked about as panionable as a soldiers’ and sailors’ monument. Louella White was a large woman, wide-bosomed, with flat, substantial feet, thick ankles, and muscular arms, dressed in an unbeing and perfectly plain brown satin dress. Her big, expressionless face was as hard, unpromising, and undecorated as the alley side of a Loop building, save that her eyebrows were plucked to fine, curved lines. Her crimped hair was a reddish brown, probably dyed, Malone thought. She opened a knitting bag, took out some shapeless article and a mass of heavy dark-gray yarn, and began to knit, with machine-like rhythm.
“红十字会的活儿？” 他礼貌地问道。
“Red Cross?” he asked politely.
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