“没错。想喝一杯。”
“That’s right. Want a drink.”
“看在上帝的份上，给他一杯。” 海伦说。
“For the love of Mike, give him one,” Helene said.
马龙尽可能长时间地让杜松子酒瓶子凑到他们俘虏的嘴边，但又不敢真的把他淹死。有一阵微弱的汩汩声，一声小小的满足的叹息，接着是让人安心的寂静。
Malone held the gin bottle to their prisoner’s lips as long as he dared without actually drowning the man. There was a faint, gurgling sound, a little, satisfied sigh, and a reassuringly peaceful silence.
出租车司机和一个显然习惯了马龙偶尔因证人带来麻烦的行李员把正在睡觉的人抬到了货梯里。马龙和行李员把他放到床上。
The taxi driver and a bellboy evidently accustomed to Malone’s occasional troubles with witnesses carried the slumbering man to the freight elevator. Malone and the bellboy put him to bed.
“现在，” 男孩走后，马龙说，“你回家去。”
“Now,” Malone said, when the boy had gone, “you go home.”
“试试看能不能让我走，我费了那么大劲才把他带到这儿。”
“Try and make me, after all the trouble I went to bringing him here.”
她同情地看着床上的年轻人。他看起来不过是个孩子，像个疲倦的孩子一样睡着。他身材苗条，个子不高，脸色苍白，相貌英俊，波浪形的金发松散地垂在额头上。
She gazed sympathetically at the young man on the bed He seemed little more than a boy, sleeping like a tired child. He was slender and not tall, with a pale, handsome face, and wavy blond hair that tumbled loosely over his forehead.
突然他动了一下，轻轻地呻吟了一声，嘟囔了一句听不清的话，然后睁开了眼睛。那是一双蓝色的眼睛，年轻而天真无邪，显然知道发生了什么事。在海伦和马龙有所行动之前，他已经从床上坐了起来。
Suddenly he stirred, moaned softly, murmured something undistinguishable, and opened his eyes. They were blue eyes, young and guileless, and apparently aware of what was going on. Before Helene or Malone could move, he was sitting up in bed.
“我杀了两个人，” 他含混但清晰地说，“我不知道他们是谁，也不知道我为什么杀了他们。但我知道我一定杀了他们。用一把刀。我不明白。”
“I killed two men,” he said thickly but intelligibly. “I don’t know who they were or why I killed them. But I know I must have killed them. With a knife. I don’t understand it.”
他抬头看着注视着他的两个人，仿佛他们的脸能给他一些解释。他用左手手掌揉了揉额头。
He stared up at the two watching him as though their faces might give him some explanation. He rubbed the palm of his left hand on his forehead.
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