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The candles burned lower and lower, making the light dance over the many moving faces ofLockhart watching him.
蜡烛烧得越来越短，火光在许多张注视着他们的、会动的洛哈特的面孔上跳动。
Harry moved his aching hand over what felt like the thousandth envelope, writing out VeronicaSmethley's address.
哈利用酸痛的手写着维罗妮卡斯美斯丽的地址，感觉这是第一千个信封了。
It must be nearly time to leave, Harry thought miserably, please let it be nearly time. . . .
时间快到了吧，哈利痛苦地想，求求你快到吧……
And then he heard something — something quite apart from the spitting of the dying candlesand Lockhart's prattle about his fans.
突然他听到了一种声音—一种与残烛发出的噼啪声或洛哈特的絮叨完全不同的声音。
It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breathtaking, ice-cold venom.
那是一个说话声，一个令人毛骨悚然、呼吸停止、冰冷恶毒的说话声。
“Come . come to me. Let me rip you. . Let me tear you. Let me kill you. ”
“来…过来…让我撕你…撕裂你…杀死你…”
