“Me too,” Lotus Allen said weakly.
“我们都去。” 莫娜?麦克莱恩说。“在等警察到来的时候，我们不妨舒服点。” 她几乎调皮地笑了笑。“在警察到来之前我们应该做点什么消遣。”
“We all will,” Mona McClane said. “We might as well be fortable while we wait for the police.” She smiled almost impishly. “What to do until the policeman es.”
她领着大家来到走廊。马龙注意到卢埃拉?怀特挽着文宁太太的胳膊。他心想，与其说她像个女伴，倒不如说她更像个警察看护，超级富有的人品味总是很奇怪。他又环顾了一下房间，电话的位置让他有点困惑，那张揉皱的纸片从死者的手指间滑落了一半。马龙几乎是漫不经心地把它捡起来，展开。
She led the way into the hall. Malone observed that Louella White took Mrs. Venning’s arm. More like a police matron than a panion, he thought, but the very rich had funny tastes. He took another look around the room. The position of the telephone puzzled him a little. The scrap of crumpled paper had half slipped from the dead man’s fingers; almost absent-mindedly Malone picked it up and smoothed it out.
上面除了一个数字什么都没有：“114”。
There was nothing on it save a number: “114.”
他又把它揉成一团，放回他发现它的地方，然后跟着其他人下了楼。
He crumpled it up again, dropped it back where he had found it, and followed the others downstairs.
114。这个数字让人有种奇怪的似曾相识的感觉，也和一起谋杀案有关。
One-fourteen. There was something maddeningly reminiscent about that. Something to do with a murder, too.
他能听到客厅里传来兴奋的谈话声。每个人似乎都想比别人说得更多。他听到迈克尔?文宁那刻意调整过的声音说：“我记得在 1929 年在加尔各答的时候……”，而罗特斯?艾伦那带有新英格兰口音的声音打断了他，说：“不管怎么说，罗斯应该是不会被怀疑的，他肯定已经醉得不省人事好几个小时了……”，还有女仆在问：“夫人，您要苏格兰威士忌还是波旁威士忌？”
He could hear the sound of excited conversation from the living room. Everyone seemed to be trying to outtalk everyone else. He heard Michael Venning’s carefully modulated voice saying, “I remember once in Calcutta, in 1929,” and Lotus Allen’s New Englandish voice cutting across it with, “Well anyway, Ross won’t be someutist”
莫娜?麦克莱恩在楼梯最下面的台阶上等他。
Mona McClane was waiting for him on the bottom step.
“你邀请我过来的时候，不会是故意安排了这一切吧？” 他问。
“You didn’t plan this, by any chance, when you invited me over?” he asked.
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