| What does it mean? | Что? |
| They can't tell you themselves! | Сами-то они знают? |
| They're just drunk on words." | Опьянели от своих же слов... |
| He smiled suddenly, rather ruefully. | Он печально улыбнулся. |
| "I'm one of the last of the Old Guard, you know." | - Да, я - один из остатков старой гвардии. |
| Poirot said curiously: "If you were - removed, what would happen?" | - Кстати, а если вас.., уберут, что тогда случится? |
| "Removed! | - Уберут? |
| What a way of putting it!" | Ну и выражение! |
| His face grew suddenly grave. | - Он помрачнел. |
| "I'll tell you. A lot of damned fools would try a lot of very costly experiments. | - Что ж, тогда масса безмозглых экспериментаторов примется за дело. |
| And that would be the end of stability - of common sense, of solvency. | И все - конец стабильности, рассудительности, платежеспособности, порядку! |
| In fact, of this England of ours as we know it..." | Всей той Англии, как мы ее знаем. |
| Poirot nodded his head. He was essentially in sympathy with the banker. | Пуаро кивнул - он явно был согласен с банкиром. |
| He, too, approved of solvency. | Платежеспособность была и его жизненным правилом. |
| And he began to realize with a new meaning exactly just what Alistair Blunt stood for. | Неожиданно Эркюль Пуаро по-новому увидел, что олицетворяет Алистер Блант. |
| Mr. Barnes had told him, but he had hardly taken it in then. Quite suddenly, he was afraid... | Ведь и Барнс говорил ему об этом, но тогда он не ухватил его мысль - Внезапно старый сыщик ощутил страх. |
| II "I've finished my letters," said Blunt, appearing later in the morning. | - Все, с письмами покончено, - сказал на следующее утро Блант. |
| "Now, M. Poirot, I'm going to show you my garden." | - А теперь, м-р Пуаро, я покажу вам мой сад. |
| The two men went out together and Blunt talked eagerly of his hobby. The rock garden, with its rare alpine plants, was his greatest joy and they spent some time there while Blunt pointed out certain minute and rare species. | Цветы и всякие растения были его хобби, которому он отдавался всей душой и о котором столь же эмоционально рассказывал. |
| Hercule Poirot, his feet encased in his best patent leather shoes, listened patiently, shifting his weight tenderly from one foot to the other and wincing slightly as the heat of the sun caused the illusion that his feet were gigantic puddings! His host strolled on, pointing out various plants in the wide border. Bees were humming and from near at hand came the monotonous clicking of a pair of shears trimming a laurel hedge. It was all very drowsy and peaceful. Blunt paused at the end of the border, looking back. The clip of the shears was quite close by, though the clipper was concealed from view. |