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Слово "traitor". Англо-русский словарь Мюллера

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  1. traitor [ˈtrtə] существительное
    предатель, изменник

    Примеры использования

    1. Jem was standing in a corner of the room, looking like the traitor he was.
      Джим стоял в углу, тихий, пристыженный - так ему и надо, предателю!
      Убить пересмешника. Харпер Ли, стр. 147
    2. He is a traitor, a speculator!
      Он изменник и спекулянт!
      УНЕСЕННЫЕ ВЕТРОМ Том 1. Маргарет Митчелл, стр. 262
    3. "Nordic-Friesian on my side, Rhenish-Saxon on hers. We'll get every parenthood assistance and racial stipend. The children will naturally have special educational advantages—everything that the Party has to give. In five years my wife will be eligible for an important post in the Reich's Women's Auxiliary as a model mother. If, in the meantime, we have twins or triplets the Fuehrer himself will be their godfather, perhaps in just two or three years. For the fifth child he will be in any case. Then my career will be splendidly assured. Picture that!" "I am picturing it." "Selective breeding of the race! We've not only got to root out the Jews, we've also got to replace them with pure-blooded Germans. A new race of leaders." "Have you rooted out many Jews?" Steinbrenner grinned. "If you could see my conduct records you wouldn't have to ask. Those were the times!" He bent over confidentially toward Graeber. "I've put in for a transfer. Back to an S.S. division. There's more going on there. And you've got better chances. Everything's on a bigger scale. No boring court-martials for every lousy Russian. They get rid of them in batches. Not long ago three hundred Polish and Russian traitors in one afternoon. Six men got the Distinguished Service Cross for that. Here all that turns up is a few measly guerrillas—you don't get any decorations for that. We haven't had more than half a dozen since you left. In the clean-up battalions and in the S.S. Security Service they get hundreds and hundreds. A man can get ahead there!" Graeber stared out into the red Russian evening. A few crows were flapping about like dark rags. Steinbrenner was the perfect product of the Party. He was perfectly healthy, in perfect physical training, perfectly devoid of any thoughts of his own, and perfectly inhuman. He was an automaton, for whom polishing a gun, exercising, and killing were all the same. "You sent the announcement of Hirschland's death to his mother, didn't you?" Graeber asked,  "Who says so?"  "I know it." "You know nothing at all. How could you know?" "I found out. That was a fine joke." Steinbrenner laughed. He had no ear for irony. His pretty face beamed with satisfaction. "You think so too? Just imagine the expression on that old woman's face! And nothing can happen to me. Hirschland will be careful not to say anything. And even if he did, it was simply a mistake! Could happen any time." Graeber looked at him closely. "You have nerve," he said. "Nerve? That doesn't take nerve. Just a sense of humor." "You're wrong. It takes nerve. Anyone who does a thing like that always dies himself soon after. That's well known." Steinbrenner laughed aloud. "Drivel! That's an old wives' tale!" "It's not an old wives' tale. Anyone who does that summons his own death. That's an established fact." "Oh, listen," Steinbrenner said. "You don't mean you believe that yourself?" "I do believe it. So should you. It's an old Germanic belief. I wouldn't like to be in your boots." "You're crazy!" Steinbrenner stood up. He was no longer laughing. "I knew two people who did something similar. Both were killed shortly after. Another was lucky. He only got shot in the balls. Naturally it made him impotent. Perhaps you'll get off as cheaply as that. Then naturally there won't be any twins or triplets. But of course someone else could always take care of that for you. In the Party the only important thing is purity of blood—not the individual." Steinbrenner stared at Graeber. "Man, what an unfeeling ass you are!" he said. "Have you really always been like that? Besides, that's all drivel, drivel with gravy on it!" For a minute longer he stood there waiting. Then he walked off. Graeber leaned back.
      — Северофризская — с моей стороны, рейнско-нижнесаксонская — с ее. Гребер не отрываясь смотрел на багровый русский закат. Черными лоскутами мелькали на его фоне несколько ворон. Штейнбреннер, насвистывая, ушел.
      Время жить и время умирать. Эрих Мария Ремарк, стр. 318

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