Boo saw me run instinctively to the bed where Jem was sleeping, for the same shy smile crept across his face. Hot with embarrassment, I tried to cover up by covering Jem up.
Dr. Reynolds’s voice was as breezy as his step, as though he had said it every evening of his life, an announcement that astounded me even more than being in the same room with Boo Radley. Of course . . . even Boo Radley got sick sometimes, I thought. But on the other hand I wasn’t sure.
Dr. Reynolds was carrying a big package wrapped in newspaper. He put it down on Jem’s desk and took off his coat. "You’re quite satisfied he’s alive, now? Tell you how I knew. When I tried to examine him he kicked me. Had to put him out good and proper to touch him. So scat," he said to me.
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9
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“呃……”阿迪克斯瞅了布一眼说,“赫克,咱们到前面走廊上去吧,那里有的是椅子,外面还是够暖和的。”
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9
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"Er-" said Atticus, glancing at Boo. "Heck, let’s go out on the front porch. There are plenty of chairs out there, and it’s still warm enough."
People have a habit of doing everyday things even under the oddest conditions. I was no exception: "Come along, Mr. Arthur," I heard myself saying, "you don’t know the house real well. I’ll just take you to the porch, sir."
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13
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他望着我,点了点头。
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13
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He looked down at me and nodded.
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14
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我领着他经过过厅,又穿过客厅。
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14
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I led him through the hall and past the livingroom.
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15
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“请坐吧,亚瑟先生,这张摇椅挺舒服呢。”
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15
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"Won’t you have a seat, Mr. Arthur? This rocking-chair’s nice and comfortable."
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16
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我脑子里关于他的幻觉又复活了。他坐在走廊上……这一向天气很好,是吗,亚瑟先生?
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16
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My small fantasy about him was alive again: he would be sitting on the porch . . . right pretty spell we’re having, isn’t it, Mr. Arthur?
Yes, a right pretty spell. Feeling slightly unreal, I led him to the chair farthest from Atticus and Mr. Tate. It was in deep shadow. Boo would feel more comfortable in the dark.
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18
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阿迪克斯坐在悬椅上,塔特先生坐在他旁边。客厅的灯光明亮地照射着他们。我和布坐在一块。
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18
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Atticus was sitting in the swing, and Mr. Tate was in a chair next to him. The light from the livingroom windows was strong on them. I sat beside Boo.
"Well, Heck," Atticus was saying, "I guess the thing to do-good Lord, I’m losing my memory . . ." Atticus pushed up his glasses and pressed his fingers to his eyes. "Jem’s not quite thirteen . . . no, he’s already thirteen-I can’t remember. Anyway, it’ll come before county court-"
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20
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“什么事要交县法院,芬奇先生?”塔特先生放下二郎腿,身子向前倾着说。
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20
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"What will, Mr. Finch?" Mr. Tate uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.
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21
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“当然,这明摆着,杰姆是为了自卫。但是我必须到事务所去查看一下有关法律。”
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21
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"Of course it was clear-cut self-defense, but I’ll have to go to the office and hunt up-"
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22
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“芬奇先生,你认为是杰姆杀死了尤厄尔吗?你是那样认为吗?”
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22
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"Mr. Finch, do you think Jem killed Bob Ewell? Do you think that?"
"You heard what Scout said, there’s no doubt about it. She said Jem got up and yanked him off her-he probably got hold of Ewell’s knife somehow in the dark . . . we’ll find out tomorrow."
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24
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“芬奇先——生,听我说,”塔特先生说,“杰姆绝对没有刺杀鲍勃-尤厄尔。”
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24
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"Mis-ter Finch, hold on," said Mr. Tate. "Jem never stabbed Bob Ewell."
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25
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阿迪克斯沉默了一阵,然后望着塔特先生,好像对他的话很感激,但却摇了摇头。
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25
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Atticus was silent for a moment. He looked at Mr. Tate as if he appreciated what he said. But Atticus shook his head.
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26
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“我知道,赫克,你这样说是出于你的好心,我非常感激你’但是,可不能开这样一个头。。
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26
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"Heck, it’s mighty kind of you and I know you’re doing it from that good heart of yours, but don’t start anything like that."
Mr. Tate got up and went to the edge of the porch. He spat into the shrubbery, then thrust his hands into his hip pockets and faced Atticus. "Like what?" he said.
Mr. Tate’s voice was quiet, but his boots were planted so solidly on the porch floorboards it seemed that they grew there. A curious contest, the nature of which eluded me, was developing between my father and the sheriff.
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31
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阿迪克斯也起身走列走廊的边缘,哼了一声,朝院里唾了一口,双手插进口袋,面对着塔特先生。
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31
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It was Atticus’s turn to get up and go to the edge of the porch. He said, "H’rm," and spat dryly into the yard. He put his hands in his pockets and faced Mr. Tate.
"See there, Heck? Thank you from the bottom of my heart, but I don’t want my boy starting out with something like this over his head. Best way to clear the air is to have it all out in the open. Let the county come and bring sandwiches. I don’t want him growing up with a whisper about him, I don’t want anybody saying, ’Jem Finch . . . his daddy paid a mint to get him out of that.’ Sooner we get this over with the better."
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35
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“芬奇先生,”塔特先生无动于衷地说,“鲍勃?尤厄尔是倒在自己的刀口上,自己杀死了自己。”
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35
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"Mr. Finch," Mr. Tate said stolidly, "Bob Ewell fell on his knife. He killed himself."
Atticus walked to the corner of the porch. He looked at the wisteria vine. In his own way, I thought, each was as stubborn as the other. I wondered who would give in first. Atticus’s stubbornness was quiet and rarely evident, but in some ways he was as set as the Cunninghams. Mr. Tate’s was unschooled and blunt, but it was equal to my father’s.
"Heck," Atticus’s back was turned. "If this thing’s hushed up it’ll be a simple denial to Jem of the way I’ve tried to raise him. Sometimes I think I’m a total failure as a parent, but I’m all they’ve got. Before Jem looks at anyone else he looks at me, and I’ve tried to live so I can look squarely back at him . . . if I connived at something like this, frankly I couldn’t meet his eye, and the day I can’t do that I’ll know I’ve lost him. I don’t want to lose him and Scout, because they’re all I’ve got."
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38
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“芬奇先生,”塔特先生双脚仍然牢牢地踏在地板上。“鲍勃?尤厄尔倒在自己的刀口上,我能证实这一点。”
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38
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"Mr. Finch," Mr. Tate was still planted to the floorboards. "Bob Ewell fell on his knife. I can prove it."
Atticus wheeled around. His hands dug into his pockets. "Heck, can’t you even try to see it my way? You’ve got children of your own, but I’m older than you. When mine are grown I’ll be an old man if I’m still around, but right now I’m-if they don’t trust me they won’t trust anybody. Jem and Scout know what happened. If they hear of me saying downtown something different happened-Heck, I won’t have them any more. I can’t live one way in town and another way in my home."
Mr. Tate flicked open the knife. "It was like this," he said. He held the knife and pretended to stumble; as he leaned forward his left arm went down in front of him. "See there? Stabbed himself through that soft stuff between his ribs. His whole weight drove it in."
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45
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塔特先生折拢刀子,塞进口袋。“斯各特才八岁,她吓坏了,不可能一清二楚地知道当时究竟是怎么回事儿。”
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45
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Mr. Tate closed the knife and jammed it back in his pocket. "Scout is eight years old," he said. "She was too scared to know exactly what went on."