一刹那间全部这些流涎水、翁动嘴唇的把戏几乎都有了意我们从一个地方挪到另一个地方

　　　一刹那间全部这些流涎水、翁动嘴唇的把戏几乎都有了意我们从一个地方挪到另一个地方，以通宵狂欢后的那种清醒意识审视这个场面。我们这样穿来穿去一定很惹人注意，因为我们的外衣领子竖着，从不画十字,Link，除了低声说几句麻木不仁的话以外嘴巴一动也不曾动。若是菲尔莫不那么固执地要在仪式正进行了一半的时候从祭坛边走过，或许谁也不会注意到这一切。他在找出口，我估计他想到了出口那儿就好好看一看这最最神圣的场面，这就是说要近距离仔细看一看。我们一直平安无事，正在朝很可能是出去的通道那一道光线处走去，这时幽暗中猛地闪出一位牧师拦住了路。他想问问我们要去哪儿，正在于什么，我们相当有礼貌地回答说我们正在找出口。我们说的是英语的“出口”，因为当时太惊恐，我们一时想不起法语“出口”是怎么说的了。牧师一句话不说便紧紧抓住我们的胳膊，推开一道边门把我们狠狠推出去了，我们摇摇晃晃地跌进了刺眼的阳光中。这件事发生得那么突然、猝不及防，待我们到了人行道上仍没有完全反应过来。我们眯上眼睛走出去几步，然后又出于本能转过身来。牧师仍站在台阶上，苍白得像一个鬼魂,LINK，像魔鬼那样狠狠地瞪着我们，准是连肺都气炸了。后来又回想起这件事时我也不怪他，不过当时瞧见他穿着长袍、头上扣着一顶小瓜皮帽的滑稽相，我禁不住哈哈大笑。我看看菲尔莫，于是他也大笑开了。我们站在那儿当着这个可怜虫的面足足笑了一分钟，我猜他起初有一点儿茫然不知所措，不过他突然冲下台阶，一边还冲着我们晃拳头，像是认真了。待他冲出围墙便狂奔过来，这会儿某种保护自乙的本能提醒我快溜走。我拽住菲尔莫的袖子跑开了，他还像个傻瓜似的说，“别，别！我不跑！”“快跑！”我嚷道。“咱们还是快点儿离开这儿为妙，这家伙已经完全疯了。”于是我们逃了，拼命竭尽全力逃走了。
We were moving about from one spot to another, surveying the scene with that clearheadedness which comes after an all night session. We must have made ourselves pretty conspicuous shuffling about that way with our coat collars turned up and never once crossing ourselves and never once moving our lips except to whisper some callous remark. Perhaps everything would have passed off without notice if Fillmore hadn't insisted on walking past the altar in the midst of the ceremony. He was looking for the exit, and he thought while he was at it, I suppose, that he would take a good squint at the holy of holies, get a close up on it, as it were. We had gotten safely by and were marching toward a crack of light which must have been the way out when a priest suddenly stepped out of the gloom and blocked our path. Wanted to know where we were going and what we were doing. We told him politely enough that we were looking for the exit. We said "exit" because at the moment we were so flabbergasted that we couldn't think of the French for exit,fake foamposites for sale. Without a word of response he took us firmly by the arm and, opening the door, a side door it was, he gave us a push and out we tumbled into the blinding light of day. It happened so suddenly and unexpectedly that when we hit the sidewalk we were in a daze. We walked a few paces, blinking our eyes, and then instinctively we both turned round; the priest was still standing on the steps, pale as a ghost and scowling like the devil himself. He must have been sore as hell. Later, thinking back on it,Contact Us, I couldn't blame him for it. But at that moment, seeing him with his long skirts and the little skull cap on his cranium, he looked so ridiculous that I burst out laughing. I looked at Fillmore and he began to laugh too. For a full minute we stood there laughing right in the poor bugger's face. He was so bewildered, I guess, that for a moment he didn't know what to do; suddenly, however, he started down the steps on the run, shaking his fist at us as if he were in earnest. When he swung out of the enclosure he was on the gallop. By this time some preservative instinct warned me to get a move on. I grabbed Fillmore by the coat sleeve and started to run. He was saying, like an idiot: "No, no! I won't run!" "Come on!" I yelled, "we'd better get out of here. That guy's mad clean through." And off we ran, beating it as fast as our legs would carry us.