He read them both through twice (он прочитал их обе дважды). "You see what I mean (вы видите, что я имею в виду)?" If one watched a world come to an end (если человек бы смотрел, как мир приходит к концу), a plane dive from its course (как самолет падает со своего курса), I don't suppose one would chatter (я не предполагаю, он бы болтал), and a world for Martins had certainly come to an end (а мир для Мартинса определенно пришел к концу), a world of easy friendship (мир легкой дружбы), hero-worship (преклонения перед героем), confidence (доверия) that had begun twenty years before (которые начались двадцать лет прежде;
distinguish [dIs'tINwIS], position [pq'zIS(q)n], agent ['eIG(q)nt], bother ['bODq], similar ['sImIlq], secret ['si:krIt], screw [skru:], connection [kq'nekS(q)n], relief [rI'lIf], experience [Ik'spIqrIqns], simultaneous ["sIm(q)l'teInIqs], cupboard ['kAbqd], pour [pO:], double [dAbl], obey [q'beI]
"Just wait," I said. For some reason Harry Lime had grown careless: he may have realised that we suspected him and got rattled. He held a quite distinguished position and a man like that is the more easily rattled. We put one of our agents as an orderly in the British Military Hospital: we knew by this time the name of our go-between, but we had never succeeded in getting the line right back to the source. Anyway I am not going to bother the reader now, as I bothered Martins then, with all the stages—the long tussle to win the confidence of the go-between—a man called Harbin. At last we had the screws on Harbin, and we twisted them until he squealed. This kind of police work is very similar to secret service work: you look for a double agent whom you can really control, and Harbin was the man for us. But even he only led us as far as Kurtz.
"Kurtz," Martins exclaimed. "But why haven't you pulled him in?"
"Zero hour is almost here," I said.
Kurtz was a great step forward, for Kurtz was in direct communication with Lime—he had a small outside job in connection with relief work. With Kurtz, Lime sometimes put things on paper—if he was pressed. I showed Martins the Photostat of a note. "Can you identify that?"
"It's Harry's hand." He read it through. "I don't see anything wrong."
"No, but now read this note from Harbin to Kurtz —which we dictated. Look at the date. This is the result."
He read them both through twice. "You see what I mean?" If one watched a world come to an end, a plane dive from its course, I don't suppose one would chatter, and a world for Martins had certainly come to an end, a world of easy friendship, hero-worship, confidence that had begun twenty years before ... in a school corridor. Every memory—afternoons in the long grass, the illegitimate shoots on Brickworth Common, the dreams, the walks, every shared experience was simultaneously tainted, like the soil of an atomised town. One could not walk there with safety for a long while. While he sat there, looking at his hands and saying nothing, I fetched a precious bottle of whisky out of a cupboard and poured out two large doubles. "Go on," I said, "drink that," and he obeyed me as though I were his doctor. I poured him out another.
He said slowly (он сказал медленно), "Are you certain (вы уверены) that he was the real boss (что он был настоящим боссом)?"