我将《假面舞会组曲》光盘放进音响,正要用郁金香杯给自己倒上一杯波尔图葡萄酒时,门铃响了,时间是晚上七点刚过几分钟。站在门廊上的男子高高瘦瘦,露着笑容,有一对犹如锃亮黑石子的狡黠眼睛。他说道:“是索普先生吗?”“你有何贵干?”“幸会幸会,先生。”男子伸出了手,“我叫布坎南。”他的手冰凉潮湿,我迅速收回了手。“布坎南先生,我能为你做些什么呢?” I put the “Masquerade Suite” disc into the sound, and when I was about to pour myself a glass of Porto wines with a tulip cup, the doorbell rang a few minutes after seven in the evening. Men standing tall on the porch are tall and thin, smiling and have a pair of sly eyes like a bright black stone. He said: “Is Mr. Thorpe?” “What’s your job?” “I’m glad to meet you, sir.” “The man reached out,” “My name is Buchanan.” “He The hands were cold and wet, I quickly recovered the hand. ”Mr. Buchanan, what can I do for you?"