72ツイートで読む原書「スタイルズ荘の怪事件」第1章-2：英文和訳 The Mysterious Affair at Styles アガサ・クリスティ By Agatha Christie

The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie
スタイルズ荘の怪事件 アガサ・クリスティ

twitterでの毎日英文和訳(@lang_baobab)のまとめページです。
2021/5/1から2021/7/13投稿分で「スタイルズ荘の怪事件」第1章のパート2です。

(毎日読みたい方はtwitter(https://twitter.com/lang_baobab)をどうぞ)

前半は英語と日本語、後半は原文のみ掲載しています。

72ツイート分で第1章の2回目です。2か月かけてまだ事件らしい事件は起きていませんが、それでも様々な伏線のようなものがあり、非常に面白いです。
ちなみに最近アマゾンプライムでミスマープルのドラマ(ジョーン・ヒクソン版)を見てますがドラマも非常に面白いですね

英文⇒日本語訳

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #860
Thus it came about that, three days later, I descended from the train at Styles St. Mary, an absurd little station, with no apparent reason for existence, perched up in the midst of green fields and country lanes.

このようなことがあり、三日後にはスタイルズ荘のあるメリー駅で列車を降りた。全く小さく、存続させる理由もないような駅で緑の平野と田舎道の真ん中にあった。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #861
John Cavendish was waiting on the platform, and piloted me out to the car.
“Got a drop or two of petrol still, you see,” he remarked. “Mainly owing to the mater’s activities.”

ジョン・キャベンディッシュはホームで待っていて、車まで案内してくれた。
「まだガソリンを少し手に入れられたんだ」と彼は言った。「ほぼ母の活動のお陰だよ」

（さっぱり分からなかったがファンクラブサイトによると戦時下でガソリン入手困難でとのこと

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #862
The village of Styles St. Mary was situated about two miles from the little station, and Styles Court lay a mile the other side of it. It was a still, warm day in early July.

スタイルズ・セント・メアリー村はその小さな駅から約2マイルのところにあり、スタイルズ荘の中庭はその反対側1マイルにあった。7月初めのまだ暖かい日だった。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #863
As one looked out over the flat Essex country, lying so green and peaceful under the afternoon sun, it seemed almost impossible to believe that, not so very far away, a great war was running its appointed course.

平地であるエセックス地方を見渡せば豊な緑と平和が午後の太陽の下に広がり、ほとんど信じられないように思えるが大きな戦争のその定められた道筋が進行しているのはさほど遠くではなかった。

（ニュアンスは分かるが日本語化が難しいとこ

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #864
I felt I had suddenly strayed into another world. As we turned in at the lodge gates, John said:
“I’m afraid you’ll find it very quiet down here, Hastings.”

突然別世界を彷徨っているような気がした。我々が屋敷への門を潜るとジョンは言った。
「ヘイスティングス、ここはとても静かだと感じるのではと気掛かりだよ」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #865
“My dear fellow, that’s just what I want.”
“Oh, it’s pleasant enough if you want to lead the idle life.

「ああ、それこそが望んでいるものだよ」
「そうか、何もしない生活が望みなら十分快適だよ。

（My dear fellowとか、名前の呼びかけとか、どう頑張っても自然な日本語にできないと思う

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #866
I drill with the volunteers twice a week, and lend a hand at the farms. My wife works regularly ‘on the land’.

週に2回ボランティアで軍の訓練をしてるし、農場も手伝ってるんだ。妻も定期的に「農場で」働いてるよ。

（‘on the land’が強調？されてる意図が不明

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #867
She is up at five every morning to milk, and keeps at it steadily until lunchtime. It’s a jolly good life taking it all round—if it weren’t for that fellow Alfred Inglethorp!”

毎朝乳しぼりで５時に起きてちゃんと昼まで起きてる。あらゆる意味で楽しくていい生活だよ。あのアルフレッド・イングルソープさえいなければ！

(milkには動詞もあった！乳しぼり、搾り取るなど
take it all roundはプログレッシブ辞典だと「（それを）あらゆる観点から考えると」
ファンクラブサイトでは「（農場の仕事を）一通りやること」

ここでは全体で、くらいの意味か

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #868
He checked the car suddenly, and glanced at his watch. “I wonder if we’ve time to pick up Cynthia. No, she’ll have started from the hospital by now.”

彼は突然車を止めて腕時計を見た。
「シンシアを拾っていく時間はあるかな。いや、今頃病院を出たはずだな」

(シンプルな単語が難しい。
check：停止、防止、検査
start from：出発する

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #869
“Cynthia! That’s not your wife?”
“No, Cynthia is a protégée of my mother’s, the daughter of an old schoolfellow of hers, who married a rascally solicitor.

「シンシアだって！君の奥さんじゃないのか？」
「いや、シンシアは母が面倒みている人で、昔の学友の娘なんだ。悪い事務弁護士と結婚してね」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #870
He came a cropper, and the girl was left an orphan and penniless. My mother came to the rescue, and Cynthia has been with us nearly two years now.

奴は事業で失敗して、彼女は孤児となって置いて行かれて一文無しだよ。母が手を差し伸べて、シンシアはもう2年近く僕たちのところにいるんだ。

cropper：小作人、大失敗
Come a cropper　どしんと落ちる、大失敗をする

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #871
She works in the Red Cross Hospital at Tadminster, seven miles away.”

７マイル先のタドミンスターの赤十字病院で働いてるんだ」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #872
As he spoke the last words, we drew up in front of the fine old house. A lady in a stout tweed skirt, who was bending over a flower bed, straightened herself at our approach.

と最後の部分を喋りながら、良い感じの古い家の前に停まった。重いツイードのスカートの女性が花壇に屈みこんでいたが、我々の到着で立ち上がった。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #873
“Hullo, Evie, here’s our wounded hero! Mr. Hastings—Miss Howard.”
Miss Howard shook hands with a hearty, almost painful, grip.

「やあ、イービー、こちら我らが名誉の負傷、ヘイスティングス氏だよ！ハワード嬢」
ハワード嬢は暖かく、もはや痛いほどの握力で握手をした。

(Hulloは英国英語。発音記号はhelloと同じ。
helloも米英で発音が違いますね。
həlóʊ(米国)
həlˈəʊ(英国)

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #874
I had an impression of very blue eyes in a sunburnt face.

日焼けした顔にとても青い目が印象的だった。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #875
She was a pleasant-looking woman of about forty, with a deep voice, almost manly in its stentorian tones, and had a large sensible square body, with feet to match—these last encased in good thick boots.

40歳ほどの感じの良い女性で低い声、その大きな声はもはや男性的で、大柄なかなりがっしりした体、立派な厚いブーツになんとか入れこんだような足だった。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #876
Her conversation, I soon found, was couched in the telegraphic style.

すぐに気が付いたのだが彼女の喋り方は電報形式だった。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #877
“Weeds grow like house afire. Can’t keep even with ’em. Shall press you in. Better be careful.”
“I’m sure I shall be only too delighted to make myself useful,” I responded.

「まるで家が燃えるように雑草が伸びて。抑えられないのよ。押しやられるわ。気を付けて」
「お役に立てたらこの上なくうれしいですよ」私は答えた。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #878
“Don’t say it. Never does. Wish you hadn’t later.”
“You’re a cynic, Evie,” said John, laughing. “Where’s tea to-day—inside or out?”

「そう言わないでよ。決してね。後で言うんじゃなかったと思うわよ」
「イービー、皮肉屋だね」とジョンは笑いながら言った。「今日のお茶はどこで？中、それとも外？」

（意味が全く分からない。こういう短い簡単なやり取りが理解できなくて悲しい😂

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #879
“Out. Too fine a day to be cooped up in the house.”
“Come on then, you’ve done enough gardening for to-day. ‘The labourer is worthy of his hire’, you know. Come and be refreshed.”

「外ね。家の中に閉じ込められるには天気が良すぎる日だから」
「じゃあおいでよ、今日はもう庭仕事は十分やっただろ。”労働者はその報酬に値する”って言うだろ。こっちで一息ついて」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #880
“Well,” said Miss Howard, drawing off her gardening gloves, “I’m inclined to agree with you.”
She led the way round the house to where tea was spread under the shade of a large sycamore.

「じゃあ」とハワード嬢は言って、庭仕事用手袋を外した。「そうしようかしら」
彼女は大きな楓の木陰にお茶の用意が広げられている家屋の方へ誘導した。

lead the way　先導する

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #881
A figure rose from one of the basket chairs, and came a few steps to meet us.
“My wife, Hastings,” said John.

ある人が枝編みの椅子から立ち上がり、我々の方へ数歩やってきた。
「妻だよ」とジョンは言った。

(微妙に日本語にしにくいやつ

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #882
I shall never forget my first sight of Mary Cavendish. Her tall, slender form, outlined against the bright light;

私はメリー・キャベンディッシュを初めて見た時のことを忘れないだろう。彼女は背が高くスリムで、明るい光の中に浮き上がっており、

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #883
the vivid sense of slumbering fire that seemed to find expression only in those wonderful tawny eyes of hers, remarkable eyes, different from any other woman’s that I have ever known;

微睡む炎の鮮やかな感覚は彼女の黄褐色の素晴らしい目のうちに表れているようで、印象的な目は私がいままで会ったどの女性とも異なっていた。

(一文が長くてどこがどこにかかっているのか怪しいがべた褒めの描写

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #884
the intense power of stillness she possessed, which nevertheless conveyed the impression of a wild untamed spirit in an exquisitely civilised body—all these things are burnt into my memory. I shall never forget them.

彼女の持つ静かさの強烈なパワーは、絶妙に気品のある体に宿る野生の飼いならされていない精神という印象を与えるにも関わらず、これら全てが私の記憶に焼き付いている。消して忘れはしないだろう。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #885
She greeted me with a few words of pleasant welcome in a low clear voice, and I sank into a basket chair feeling distinctly glad that I had accepted John’s invitation.

彼女は低くはっきりした声で優しい歓迎の言葉を少し述べて私に挨拶した。私はジョンの招待を受け入れてとても良かったと思いながら籐椅子に座った。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #886
Mrs. Cavendish gave me some tea, and her few quiet remarks heightened my first impression of her as a thoroughly fascinating woman.

キャベンディッシュ夫人はお茶を渡してくれ、彼女の静かな言葉少なさはまったくもって素晴らしい女性であるという私の第一印象を強めた。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #887
An appreciative listener is always stimulating, and I described, in a humorous manner, certain incidents of my Convalescent Home, in a way which, I flatter myself, greatly amused my hostess.

素晴らしい聞き手は常に刺激的なもので、私はユーモアを交えて回復病棟での出来事について語り、その中で自分で言うのもなんだが女主人を大いに喜ばせた。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #888
John, of course, good fellow though he is, could hardly be called a brilliant conversationalist.

ジョンはもちろん良い同伴者ではあるが、素晴らしい会話の回し手とはとても言えなかった。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #889
At that moment a well remembered voice floated through the open French window near at hand:

その時、すぐ近くの明け放されたフランス窓から聞きなれた声が聞こえてきた。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #890
“Then you’ll write to the Princess after tea, Alfred? I’ll write to Lady Tadminster for the second day, myself. Or shall we wait until we hear from the Princess?

「アルフレッド、それからお茶の後に伯爵夫人に手紙を書いてね？私はレディ・タドミンスターへ2日目のお誘いを書くから。それとも伯爵夫人から返事が来るまで待つべきかしら？

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #891
In case of a refusal, Lady Tadminster might open it the first day, and Mrs. Crosbie the second. Then there’s the Duchess—about the school fête.”

お断りだったらレディ・タドミンスターが初日を明けてくれるかもしれないし、クロスビー夫人が二日目ね。それで侯爵夫人がいるし、、学園祭についてね」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #892
There was the murmur of a man’s voice, and then Mrs. Inglethorp’s rose in reply:
“Yes, certainly. After tea will do quite well. You are so thoughtful, Alfred dear.”

男性のつぶやく声が聞こえ、それからイングルソープ夫人の答える声が大きくなった。
「ええ、もちろん。お茶の後にちゃんとやりましょう。アルフレッド、とても親切ね」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #893
The French window swung open a little wider, and a handsome white-haired old lady, with a somewhat masterful cast of features, stepped out of it on to the lawn. A man followed her, a suggestion of deference in his manner.

フランス窓がもう少し大きく開き、美しい白髪の老婦人が幾分横柄な顔つきであるが、芝生へ出てきた。男性がそのあとに続き、彼の姿勢には尊敬が籠っていた。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #894
Mrs. Inglethorp greeted me with effusion.
“Why, if it isn’t too delightful to see you again, Mr. Hastings, after all these years. Alfred, darling, Mr. Hastings—my husband.”

イングルソープ夫人は私に感情を表した挨拶をした。
「やだ、またあなたに会えるなんてこんな嬉しいことはないわ、ヘイスティングスさん。もう何年ぶりかしら。アルフレッド、あなた、ヘイスティングスさんよ。夫よ」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #895
I looked with some curiosity at “Alfred darling”. He certainly struck a rather alien note. I did not wonder at John objecting to his beard.

私は多少の好奇心をもって「あなた、アルフレッド」を見た。まさに外国人風の印象を与える人だった。ジョンが彼の髭には反対するのも不思議ではなかった。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #896
It was one of the longest and blackest I have ever seen. He wore gold-rimmed pince-nez, and had a curious impassivity of feature. It struck me that he might look natural on a stage, but was strangely out of place in real life.

その髭は今まで見た中でも一番長く、黒いものだった。金縁の鼻眼鏡を掛け、不思議な感じのする無表情な顔つきだった。舞台上では自然に見えるかもしれないが、現実世界では浮世離れした奇妙な印象を受けた。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #897
His voice was rather deep and unctuous. He placed a wooden hand in mine and said:
“This is a pleasure, Mr. Hastings.” Then, turning to his wife: “Emily dearest, I think that cushion is a little damp.”

彼の声はやや低くお世辞ぶったものだった。ぎこちなく私に手をかけて言った。
「ヘイスティングさん、大変嬉しいです」それから妻に向かって「ねえエミリー、あのクッションは少し湿っているね」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #898
She beamed fondly on him, as he substituted another with every demonstration of the tenderest care. Strange infatuation of an otherwise sensible woman!

彼女は優しく微笑み、彼は他のクッションに変え、最大限の優しい気づかいを全てにおいて見せた。他の点に置いては分別のある女性の全くおかしな心酔だった。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #899
With the presence of Mr. Inglethorp, a sense of constraint and veiled hostility seemed to settle down upon the company. Miss Howard, in particular, took no pains to conceal her feelings.

イングルソープ氏の登場で窮屈さと隠された敵意は皆にとって落ち着いたように見えた。ハワード嬢は特に感情を隠すのに苦労はなかった。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #900
Mrs. Inglethorp, however, seemed to notice nothing unusual.

イングルソープ夫人はしかし不穏な気配に何も気が付いていなそうだった。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #901
Her volubility, which I remembered of old, had lost nothing in the intervening years, and she poured out a steady flood of conversation, mainly on the subject of the forthcoming bazaar which she was organizing and which was to take place shortly.

昔の彼女の饒舌さをよく覚えているが、何年も経た今も全く変わりはなかった。絶え間なくお喋りの波を浴びせかけ、その話題は主に今度のバザーについてで、彼女が主催でもうすぐ開催されるものだった。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #902
Occasionally she referred to her husband over a question of days or dates. His watchful and attentive manner never varied.

時折夫に曜日や日にちを確認した。彼の油断なく注意深い態度は決して変わらなかった。

(days or datesが怪しいがdayが曜日、dateが日付のよう

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #903
From the very first I took a firm and rooted dislike to him, and I flatter myself that my first judgments are usually fairly shrewd.

私ははなから彼のことは断固として深く嫌いであり、自分の最初の判断は常にかなり鋭いと自負している。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #904
Presently Mrs. Inglethorp turned to give some instructions about letters to Evelyn Howard, and her husband addressed me in his painstaking voice:
“Is soldiering your regular profession, Mr. Hastings?”

やがてイングルソープ夫人はエブェレイン・ハワードへの手紙に着いていくつかの指示を出し始め、夫の方は私にまじめな声で話かけた。
「ヘイスティングさん、通常のお仕事が軍人なのですか？」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #905
“No, before the war I was in Lloyd’s.”
“And you will return there after it is over?”
“Perhaps. Either that or a fresh start altogether.”

「いえ、戦争前はロイズにいました」
「では戦争後はそちらにお戻りに？」
「きっと。それか全く新しくスタートを切るかどちらかですね」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #906
Mary Cavendish leant forward.
“What would you really choose as a profession, if you could just consult your inclination?”
“Well, that depends.”

メアリー・キャベンディッシュは前のめりになった。
「純粋に自分の好みを考えられるなら、仕事として何を選びます？」
「うーん、場合によりますね」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #907
“No secret hobby?” she asked. “Tell me—you’re drawn to something? Everyone is—usually something absurd.”
“You’ll laugh at me.”
She smiled.
“Perhaps.”

「秘密の趣味は無いの？」彼女は聞いた。「教えてよ。何かにハマってるとか。みんな、普通はおかしなものがあるでしょ」
「笑いますよ」
微笑んで「多分ね」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #908
“Well, I’ve always had a secret hankering to be a detective!”
“The real thing—Scotland Yard? Or Sherlock Holmes?”

「ええと、ずっと探偵になりたいとひそかに憧れていたんです！」
「本物の、スコットランドヤードとか？それともシャーロック・ホームズ？」

(まさかのホームズ登場
the real thingはいまいちなんだか分からず

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #909
“Oh, Sherlock Holmes by all means. But really, seriously, I am awfully drawn to it. I came across a man in Belgium once, a very famous detective, and he quite inflamed me.

「ああ、まさにシャーロックホームズですね。しかし本当に本当にとても惹かれているんです。ベルギーで一度ある人に出会ったのですがとても有名な探偵で、まったく興奮しましたよ。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #910
He was a marvellous little fellow. He used to say that all good detective work was a mere matter of method. My system is based on his—though of course I have progressed rather further.

彼は素晴らしいやつで。彼が言うには優れた探偵仕事というのは単に方法論なんだと。自分のやり方も彼の考えに基づいていて、もちろんもっとそれを進化させてますけどね。

(褒める文脈でのlittleの意味合いが分からないのと
my, hisが誰の事なのか、、

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #911
He was a funny little man, a great dandy, but wonderfully clever.”

彼はちょっとした面白い男で非常にお洒落で、しかし素晴らしく賢かったんです」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #912
“Like a good detective story myself,” remarked Miss Howard. “Lots of nonsense written, though. Criminal discovered in last chapter. Everyone dumbfounded. Real crime—you’d know at once.”

「探偵ものは私も好きですね」とハワード嬢が言った。「くだらないものも多いですけど。最後の章で犯罪が暴かれて。みんな呆然としますね。本当の犯罪というのは、、すぐに分かりますね」

「探偵ものは私も好きですね」とハワード嬢が言った。「くだらないものも多いですけど。最後の章で犯罪が暴かれて。みんな呆然としますね。本当の犯罪というのは、、すぐに分かりますね」
(昨日のパート、handyではなくてdandyでした、、

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #913
“There have been a great number of undiscovered crimes,” I argued.
“Don’t mean the police, but the people that are right in it. The family. You couldn’t really hoodwink them. They’d know.”

「発見されていない犯罪も非常にたくさんありますよね」私は反論した。
「警察という意味ではなく、関係する人たちのことです。家族問題です。彼らを騙すことはできませんよね。分かりますから」

(ある程度先まで読まないといまいち話の方向性が見えない。嬢が何を言おうとしているのか、、)

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #914
“Then,” I said, much amused, “you think that if you were mixed up in a crime, say a murder, you’d be able to spot the murderer right off?”

「それでは」と私は面白くなって言った。「もし犯罪に巻き込まれたら、例えば殺人とか、すぐに犯人が分かると言うんですか？」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #915
“Of course I should. Mightn’t be able to prove it to a pack of lawyers. But I’m certain I’d know. I’d feel it in my fingertips if he came near me.”
“It might be a ‘she’,” I suggested.

「もちろん分かりますよ。弁護士集団にそれを証明することは出来ないかもしれないけど。でも私には分かります。犯人の男が近くに来たら指先で感じるはずです」
「女かもしれませんよね」私は言った。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #916
“Might. But murder’s a violent crime. Associate it more with a man.”
“Not in a case of poisoning.” Mrs. Cavendish’s clear voice startled me.

「そうかもしれませんね。でも殺人は暴力犯罪ですから。男性の方がより親和性が高いですね」
「毒の場合ならそうともいえませんね」キャベンディッシュ夫人のはっきりした声に私は驚いた。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #917
“Dr. Bauerstein was saying yesterday that, owing to the general ignorance of the more uncommon poisons among the medical profession, there were probably countless cases of poisoning quite unsuspected.”

「バースタイン医師も昨日仰ってましたよ。一般的に医療関係者の間でもあまり有名ではない毒は知られていないから、多分沢山の毒殺事件が全く疑われてないって」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #918
“Why, Mary, what a gruesome conversation!” cried Mrs. Inglethorp. “It makes me feel as if a goose were walking over my grave. Oh, there’s Cynthia!”

「なんなの、メアリー、なんて恐ろしい会話なの！」イングルソープ夫人は声を上げた。「まるでガチョウが私のお墓に向かって歩いている気分よ。ああ、シンシア！」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #919
A young girl in V.A.D. uniform ran lightly across the lawn.
“Why, Cynthia, you are late to-day. This is Mr. Hastings—Miss Murdoch.”

救護奉仕隊のユニフォームを着た若い少女が芝生を横切って軽やかに走ってきた。
「なに、シンシア、今日は遅いわね。こちらヘイスティングさん。マードック嬢よ」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #920
Cynthia Murdoch was a fresh-looking young creature, full of life and vigour.

シンシア・マードックは生き生きとした若い人間で、活気と活力に満ちていた。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #921
She tossed off her little V.A.D. cap, and I admired the great loose waves of her auburn hair, and the smallness and whiteness of the hand she held out to claim her tea. With dark eyes and eyelashes she would have been a beauty.

彼女は小さな救護奉仕隊の帽子を上げ、私は赤褐色のゆるくウェーブのかかった髪に、そして紅茶を受け取ろうと差し出した小さく白い手に見とれた。暗い目の色とまつ毛が彼女を美しく見せていた。

(最後は仮定法？美しかっただろうにでも違う、なのか？

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #922
She flung herself down on the ground beside John, and as I handed her a plate of sandwiches she smiled up at me.

彼女はジョンの隣に腰を下ろし、私がサンドイッチ皿を差し出すと私に微笑んだ。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #923
“Sit down here on the grass, do. It’s ever so much nicer.”
I dropped down obediently.
“You work at Tadminster, don’t you, Miss Murdoch?”
She nodded.

「ここの草の上に座ったら。快適よ」
私は素直に座った。
「タドミンスターで働いてるんですね、マードックさん」
彼女は頷いた。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #924
“For my sins.”
“Do they bully you, then?” I asked, smiling.
“I should like to see them!” cried Cynthia with dignity.
“I have got a cousin who is nursing,” I remarked. “And she is terrified of ‘Sisters’.”

「何の因果かね」
「いじめられてるってことですか？」私は微笑んで尋ねた。
「そんな人たち見てみたいわ」とシンシアは気位高く大声を出した。
「看護師をしている従妹がいるんですけどね」私は言った。「看護婦長って恐れられてますよ」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #925
“I don’t wonder. Sisters are, you know, Mr. Hastings. They simp-ly are! You’ve no idea! But I’m not a nurse, thank heaven, I work in the dispensary.”

「不思議じゃないわ。看護婦長っていうのはね、ヘイスティングさん。単純なのよ！分からないでしょうね！でも私は看護師じゃないし、有難いことにね、薬局で働いてるの」

(こういう短い発言は難しい

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #926
“How many people do you poison?” I asked, smiling.
Cynthia smiled too.
“Oh, hundreds!” she said.

「何人に毒を盛りました？」笑いながら私は聞いた。
シンシアも笑った。
「あー、数百人！」彼女は言った。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #927
“Cynthia,” called Mrs. Inglethorp, “do you think you could write a few notes for me?”
“Certainly, Aunt Emily.”

「シンシア」イングルソープ夫人が呼びかけた。「私にちょっとメモを取ってもらってもいいかしら」
「もちろん、エミリーおばさん」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #928
She jumped up promptly, and something in her manner reminded me that her position was a dependent one, and that Mrs. Inglethorp, kind as she might be in the main, did not allow her to forget it.

彼女はすぐに立ち上がったが、その動作からは彼女の立場が従属的なものであること、そしてイングルソープ夫人は概ね親切なのかもしれないがそれを忘れさせてはくれないということが分かった。

(こういう微妙な描写は面白い

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #929
My hostess turned to me.
“John will show you your room. Supper is at half-past seven.

女主人は私の方を向いた。
「ジョンが部屋を案内するわ。夕食は7時半ね」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #930
We have given up late dinner for some time now. Lady Tadminster, our Member’s wife—she was the late Lord Abbotsbury’s daughter—does the same. She agrees with me that one must set an example of economy.

ここしばらくは遅い夕食は止めてるの。うちの会員の奥さんでタドミンスター夫人、亡くなったアボツベリー卿の娘さんだけど、彼女も同じですって。人は倹約の模範を示すべきだって賛同してくれるわ。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #931
We are quite a war household; nothing is wasted here—every scrap of waste paper, even, is saved and sent away in sacks.”

私たちは本当に戦争時の家庭なのよ。ここでは何も無駄にしてない。紙屑一つだって取っておいて袋で送るの」

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #932
I expressed my appreciation, and John took me into the house and up the broad staircase, which forked right and left half-way to different wings of the building. My room was in the left wing, and looked out over the park.

私はお礼を言い、ジョンに家の中へ案内されて大きな階段を上がった。階段は途中で右側と左側へと分かれ、建物の別棟へ続いていた。私の部屋は左の棟で庭園が見渡せた。

#AgathaChristie #スタイルズ荘の怪事件 #932

英語（原文）のスタイルズ荘の怪事件

Thus it came about that, three days later, I descended from the train at Styles St. Mary, an absurd little station, with no apparent reason for existence, perched up in the midst of green fields and country lanes. John Cavendish was waiting on the platform, and piloted me out to the car.

“Got a drop or two of petrol still, you see,” he remarked. “Mainly owing to the mater’s activities.”

The village of Styles St. Mary was situated about two miles from the little station, and Styles Court lay a mile the other side of it. It was a still, warm day in early July. As one looked out over the flat Essex country, lying so green and peaceful under the afternoon sun, it seemed almost impossible to believe that, not so very far away, a great war was running its appointed course. I felt I had suddenly strayed into another world. As we turned in at the lodge gates, John said:

“I’m afraid you’ll find it very quiet down here, Hastings.”

“My dear fellow, that’s just what I want.”

“Oh, it’s pleasant enough if you want to lead the idle life. I drill with the volunteers twice a week, and lend a hand at the farms. My wife works regularly ‘on the land’. She is up at five every morning to milk, and keeps at it steadily until lunchtime. It’s a jolly good life taking it all round—if it weren’t for that fellow Alfred Inglethorp!” He checked the car suddenly, and glanced at his watch. “I wonder if we’ve time to pick up Cynthia. No, she’ll have started from the hospital by now.”

“Cynthia! That’s not your wife?”

“No, Cynthia is a protégée of my mother’s, the daughter of an old schoolfellow of hers, who married a rascally solicitor. He came a cropper, and the girl was left an orphan and penniless. My mother came to the rescue, and Cynthia has been with us nearly two years now. She works in the Red Cross Hospital at Tadminster, seven miles away.”

As he spoke the last words, we drew up in front of the fine old house. A lady in a stout tweed skirt, who was bending over a flower bed, straightened herself at our approach.

“Hullo, Evie, here’s our wounded hero! Mr. Hastings—Miss Howard.”

Miss Howard shook hands with a hearty, almost painful, grip. I had an impression of very blue eyes in a sunburnt face. She was a pleasant-looking woman of about forty, with a deep voice, almost manly in its stentorian tones, and had a large sensible square body, with feet to match—these last encased in good thick boots. Her conversation, I soon found, was couched in the telegraphic style.

“Weeds grow like house afire. Can’t keep even with ’em. Shall press you in. Better be careful.”

“I’m sure I shall be only too delighted to make myself useful,” I responded.

“Don’t say it. Never does. Wish you hadn’t later.”

“You’re a cynic, Evie,” said John, laughing. “Where’s tea to-day—inside or out?”

“Out. Too fine a day to be cooped up in the house.”

“Come on then, you’ve done enough gardening for to-day. ‘The labourer is worthy of his hire’, you know. Come and be refreshed.”

“Well,” said Miss Howard, drawing off her gardening gloves, “I’m inclined to agree with you.”

She led the way round the house to where tea was spread under the shade of a large sycamore.

A figure rose from one of the basket chairs, and came a few steps to meet us.

“My wife, Hastings,” said John.

I shall never forget my first sight of Mary Cavendish. Her tall, slender form, outlined against the bright light; the vivid sense of slumbering fire that seemed to find expression only in those wonderful tawny eyes of hers, remarkable eyes, different from any other woman’s that I have ever known; the intense power of stillness she possessed, which nevertheless conveyed the impression of a wild untamed spirit in an exquisitely civilised body—all these things are burnt into my memory. I shall never forget them.

She greeted me with a few words of pleasant welcome in a low clear voice, and I sank into a basket chair feeling distinctly glad that I had accepted John’s invitation. Mrs. Cavendish gave me some tea, and her few quiet remarks heightened my first impression of her as a thoroughly fascinating woman. An appreciative listener is always stimulating, and I described, in a humorous manner, certain incidents of my Convalescent Home, in a way which, I flatter myself, greatly amused my hostess. John, of course, good fellow though he is, could hardly be called a brilliant conversationalist.

At that moment a well remembered voice floated through the open French window near at hand:

“Then you’ll write to the Princess after tea, Alfred? I’ll write to Lady Tadminster for the second day, myself. Or shall we wait until we hear from the Princess? In case of a refusal, Lady Tadminster might open it the first day, and Mrs. Crosbie the second. Then there’s the Duchess—about the school fête.”

There was the murmur of a man’s voice, and then Mrs. Inglethorp’s rose in reply:

“Yes, certainly. After tea will do quite well. You are so thoughtful, Alfred dear.”

The French window swung open a little wider, and a handsome white-haired old lady, with a somewhat masterful cast of features, stepped out of it on to the lawn. A man followed her, a suggestion of deference in his manner.

Mrs. Inglethorp greeted me with effusion.

“Why, if it isn’t too delightful to see you again, Mr. Hastings, after all these years. Alfred, darling, Mr. Hastings—my husband.”

I looked with some curiosity at “Alfred darling”. He certainly struck a rather alien note. I did not wonder at John objecting to his beard. It was one of the longest and blackest I have ever seen. He wore gold-rimmed pince-nez, and had a curious impassivity of feature. It struck me that he might look natural on a stage, but was strangely out of place in real life. His voice was rather deep and unctuous. He placed a wooden hand in mine and said:

“This is a pleasure, Mr. Hastings.” Then, turning to his wife: “Emily dearest, I think that cushion is a little damp.”

She beamed fondly on him, as he substituted another with every demonstration of the tenderest care. Strange infatuation of an otherwise sensible woman!

With the presence of Mr. Inglethorp, a sense of constraint and veiled hostility seemed to settle down upon the company. Miss Howard, in particular, took no pains to conceal her feelings. Mrs. Inglethorp, however, seemed to notice nothing unusual. Her volubility, which I remembered of old, had lost nothing in the intervening years, and she poured out a steady flood of conversation, mainly on the subject of the forthcoming bazaar which she was organizing and which was to take place shortly. Occasionally she referred to her husband over a question of days or dates. His watchful and attentive manner never varied. From the very first I took a firm and rooted dislike to him, and I flatter myself that my first judgments are usually fairly shrewd.

Presently Mrs. Inglethorp turned to give some instructions about letters to Evelyn Howard, and her husband addressed me in his painstaking voice:

“Is soldiering your regular profession, Mr. Hastings?”

“No, before the war I was in Lloyd’s.”

“And you will return there after it is over?”

“Perhaps. Either that or a fresh start altogether.”

Mary Cavendish leant forward.

“What would you really choose as a profession, if you could just consult your inclination?”

“Well, that depends.”

“No secret hobby?” she asked. “Tell me—you’re drawn to something? Everyone is—usually something absurd.”

“You’ll laugh at me.”

She smiled.

“Perhaps.”

“Well, I’ve always had a secret hankering to be a detective!”

“The real thing—Scotland Yard? Or Sherlock Holmes?”

“Oh, Sherlock Holmes by all means. But really, seriously, I am awfully drawn to it. I came across a man in Belgium once, a very famous detective, and he quite inflamed me. He was a marvellous little fellow. He used to say that all good detective work was a mere matter of method. My system is based on his—though of course I have progressed rather further. He was a funny little man, a great dandy, but wonderfully clever.”

“Like a good detective story myself,” remarked Miss Howard. “Lots of nonsense written, though. Criminal discovered in last chapter. Everyone dumbfounded. Real crime—you’d know at once.”

“There have been a great number of undiscovered crimes,” I argued.

“Don’t mean the police, but the people that are right in it. The family. You couldn’t really hoodwink them. They’d know.”

“Then,” I said, much amused, “you think that if you were mixed up in a crime, say a murder, you’d be able to spot the murderer right off?”

“Of course I should. Mightn’t be able to prove it to a pack of lawyers. But I’m certain I’d know. I’d feel it in my fingertips if he came near me.”

“It might be a ‘she’,” I suggested.

“Might. But murder’s a violent crime. Associate it more with a man.”

“Not in a case of poisoning.” Mrs. Cavendish’s clear voice startled me. “Dr. Bauerstein was saying yesterday that, owing to the general ignorance of the more uncommon poisons among the medical profession, there were probably countless cases of poisoning quite unsuspected.”

“Why, Mary, what a gruesome conversation!” cried Mrs. Inglethorp. “It makes me feel as if a goose were walking over my grave. Oh, there’s Cynthia!”

A young girl in V.A.D. uniform ran lightly across the lawn.

“Why, Cynthia, you are late to-day. This is Mr. Hastings—Miss Murdoch.”

Cynthia Murdoch was a fresh-looking young creature, full of life and vigour. She tossed off her little V.A.D. cap, and I admired the great loose waves of her auburn hair, and the smallness and whiteness of the hand she held out to claim her tea. With dark eyes and eyelashes she would have been a beauty.

She flung herself down on the ground beside John, and as I handed her a plate of sandwiches she smiled up at me.

“Sit down here on the grass, do. It’s ever so much nicer.”

I dropped down obediently.

“You work at Tadminster, don’t you, Miss Murdoch?”

She nodded.

“For my sins.”

“Do they bully you, then?” I asked, smiling.

“I should like to see them!” cried Cynthia with dignity.

“I have got a cousin who is nursing,” I remarked. “And she is terrified of ‘Sisters’.”

“I don’t wonder. Sisters are, you know, Mr. Hastings. They simp-ly are! You’ve no idea! But I’m not a nurse, thank heaven, I work in the dispensary.”

“How many people do you poison?” I asked, smiling.

Cynthia smiled too.

“Oh, hundreds!” she said.

“Cynthia,” called Mrs. Inglethorp, “do you think you could write a few notes for me?”

“Certainly, Aunt Emily.”

She jumped up promptly, and something in her manner reminded me that her position was a dependent one, and that Mrs. Inglethorp, kind as she might be in the main, did not allow her to forget it.

My hostess turned to me.

“John will show you your room. Supper is at half-past seven. We have given up late dinner for some time now. Lady Tadminster, our Member’s wife—she was the late Lord Abbotsbury’s daughter—does the same. She agrees with me that one must set an example of economy. We are quite a war household; nothing is wasted here—every scrap of waste paper, even, is saved and sent away in sacks.”

I expressed my appreciation, and John took me into the house and up the broad staircase, which forked right and left half-way to different wings of the building. My room was in the left wing, and looked out over the park.

原典等

原文はこちらから：
https://www.gutenberg.org/files/863/863-h/863-h.htm

単語の参考に。非常に充実してます：
クリスティ・ファンクラブ
The Mysterious Affair at Styles(1920)
http://www.ab.cyberhome.ne.jp/~lilac/christie/styles.htm

単語や日本語訳の確認はこちらを使ったり：
DeepL翻訳
https://www.deepl.com/translator
Weblio
https://ejje.weblio.jp/