The man gave a big laugh that caused a dozen heads to turn (человек издал большой смех, который побудил дюжину голов повернуться). "Listen to him (послушайте его), sir, listen (сэр, послушайте)," he said proudly (сказал он гордо). "He thinks you did it just because you are a foreigner (он думает, что это сделали вы, просто потому, что вы иностранец). As though there weren't more foreigners here these days than Viennese (как если бы не было больше иностранцев здесь сейчас: «/в/ эти дни», чем венцев = словно нынче тут не больше иностранцев, чем жителей Вены)."

"Papa, Papa."

"Yes, Hänsel?"

"They are coming out."

remind [rI'maInd], memory ['mem(q)rI], confused [kqn'fju:zd], [Im'plO:], impression [Im'pre(q)n], failure ['feIlje], suicide ['sjuIsaId], informant [In'fO:mqnt], gnome ['nqum], foreigner ['fOrInq], throat ['Trqut], laugh [lRf], dozen ['dAz(q)n], Viennese ["vIq'ni:z]

Anna Schmidt stopped: she said, "Who else have you told about Koch?"

"Only you and Cooler. Why?"

"I'm frightened. It reminds me ..." She had her eyes fixed on the crowd and he never knew what memory out of her confused past had risen to warn her. "Let's go away," she implored him.

"You're crazy. We're on to something here, something big ..."

"I'll wait for you."

"But you're going to talk to him."

"Find out first what all those people ..." She said strangely for one who worked behind the footlights, "I hate crowds."

He walked slowly on alone, the snow caking on his heels. It wasn't a political meeting for no one was making a speech. He had the impression of heads turning to watch him come, as though he were somebody who was expected. When he reached the fringe of the little crowd, he knew for certain that it was the house. A man looked hard at him and said, "Are you another of them?"

"What do you mean?"

"The police."

"No. What are they doing?"

"They've been in and out all day."

"What's everybody waiting for?"

"They want to see him brought out."

"Who?"

"Herr Koch." It occurred vaguely to Martins that somebody besides himself had discovered Herr Koch's failure to give evidence, though that was hardly a police matter. He said, "What's he done?"

"Nobody knows that yet. They can't make their minds up in there—it might be suicide, you see, and it might be murder."

"Herr Koch?"

"Of course."

A small child came up to his informant and pulled at his hand, "Papa, Papa." He wore a wool cap on his head like a gnome, and his face was pinched and blue with cold.

"Yes, my dear, what is it?"

"I heard them talking through the grating, Papa."

"Oh, you cunning little one. Tell us what you heard, Hänsel?"

"I heard Frau Koch crying, Papa."

"Was that all, Hänsel?"

"No. I heard the big man talking, Papa."

"Ah, you cunning little Hänsel. Tell Papa what he said."

"He said, 'Can you tell me, Frau Koch, what the foreigner looked like?'"

"Ha, ha, you see they think it's murder. And who's to say they are wrong. Why should Herr Koch cut his own throat in the basement?"

"Papa, Papa."

"Yes, little Hänsel?"

"When I looked through the grating, I could see some blood on the coke.