波洛圣诞探案记04

IV,David was reading the letter. Once he screwed it up into a ball and thrust it away from him. Then,reaching for it, he smoothed it out and read it again.,Quietly, without saying anything, his wife, Hilda, watched him. She noted ¹ the jerking muscle(or was it a nerve?) in his temple, the slight tremor ² of the long delicate hands, the nervousspasmodic movements of his whole body. When he pushed aside the lock of fair hair that alwaystended to stray down over his forehead and looked across at her with appealing blue eyes she wasready.,“Hilda, what shall we do about it?
”,Hilda hesitated a minute before speaking. She had heard the appeal in his voice. She knewhow dependent he was upon her—had always been ever since their marriage—knew that shecould probably influence his decision finally and decisively. But for just that reason she was charyof pronouncing anything too final.,She said, and her voice had the calm, soothing ³ quality that can be heard in the voice of anexperienced nannie in a nursery:,A broad woman, Hilda, not beautiful, but with a certain magnetic quality. Something abouther like a Dutch picture. Something warming and endearing in the sound of her voice. Somethingstrong about her—the vital hidden strength that appeals to weakness. An overstout dumpy middle-aged ⁴ woman—not clever—not brilliant—but with something about her that you couldn’t passover. Force! Hilda Lee had force!,David got up and began pacing up and down. His hair was practically untouched by grey. Hewas strangely boyish-looking. His face had the mild quality of a Burne Jones knight ⁵. It was,somehow, not very real. .?.?.,He said, and his voice was wistful:,“You know how I feel about it, Hilda. You must.”,“I’m not sure. ”,Jim is noted for arriving late for work.吉姆上班迟到出了名
。,There was a slight tremor in his voice.他的声音有点颤抖。