Английский детектив. Джон Бакен. Тридцать девять ступеней / John Buchan. The Thirty-Nine Steps - страница 31

(но позвольте мне сказать вам, что вы благородный человек; white – белый; честный, порядочный, благородный). I’ll thank you to lend me a razor (я буду вам благодарен, если вы одолжите мне бритву).’

I took him into my bedroom and turned him loose (я отвел его в свою спальню и оставил его одного; to take; to turn loose – спускать /животное/ с цепи; освобождать). In half an hour’s time a figure came out that I scarcely recognized (через полчаса вышел человек, которого я с трудом узнал; figure – цифра, число; фигура, персона, человек). Only his gimlety, hungry eyes were the same (только его пронзительные, голодные глаза были теми же самыми). He was shaved clean (он был чисто выбрит), his hair was parted in the middle (его волосы были расчесаны на прямой пробор; to part – разделять, делить на части; расчесывать волосы на пробор; middle – середина), and he had cut his eyebrows (и он подрезал брови; to cut – резать, отрезать). Further, he carried himself as if he had been drilled (более того: «далее», он вел себя так, словно он занимался строевой подготовкой; to drill – упражнять, тренировать; обучать строю, проходить строевое обучение), and was the very model, even to the brown complexion, of some British officer (и был, вплоть до смуглого цвета лица, точным образчиком британского офицера = вылитым британским офицером; model – модель; точная копия) who had had a long spell in India (который прослужил долгий срок в Индии; spell – промежуток времени, срок, период). He had a monocle, too, which he stuck in his eye (у него был, к тому же, монокль, который он вставил в глаз; to stick – втыкать; вставлять), and every trace of the American had gone out of his speech (и все следы американского акцента: «американца» исчезли из его речи).

 ‘Sure,’ he said, jumping up with some briskness. ‘I haven’t the privilege of your name, Sir, but let me tell you that you’re a white man. I’ll thank you to lend me a razor.’

I took him into my bedroom and turned him loose. In half an hour’s time a figure came out that I scarcely recognized. Only his gimlety, hungry eyes were the same. He was shaved clean, his hair was parted in the middle, and he had cut his eyebrows. Further, he carried himself as if he had been drilled, and was the very model, even to the brown complexion, of some British officer who had had a long spell in India. He had a monocle, too, which he stuck in his eye, and every trace of the American had gone out of his speech.