短篇小说 | The Purloined Letter

2020年2月22日

At Paris, just after dark one gusty evening in the autumn of 18 -- , I was enjoying the twofold luxury of meditation and a meerschaum, in company with my friend, C. Auguste Dupin, in his little back library, or book-closet, au troisime, No. 33 Rue Dunt, Faubourg St. Germain.