Jack Harvey was a tall, wiry guy with a comically bushy black mustache. If it wasn't for his fedora, he'd have looked like an upside down broom. But the cat had style. When he wasn't behind the wheel of his lime green Cadillac El Dorado, circa 1976, he had the slow and economic movements of a man who didn't have to make a point. A wave of the hand would do. A nod. He was my tobacco dealer. He owned a small, elegant shop downtown that I remember more for its wonderful smells than anything else. In fact, it's hard for me to remember much-this was long ago.
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机译：杰克·哈维（Jack Harvey）是个矮胖的高个子，有着浓密的黑胡子。如果不是他的软呢帽，他看起来就像是一把颠倒的扫帚。但是猫有风格。大约在1976年，当他不在石灰绿色的凯迪拉克埃尔多拉多（Cadillac El Dorado）的车轮后面时，他的动作缓慢而经济，没有必要提出任何观点。挥手就可以。一点头。他是我的烟草商人。他在市区拥有一家优雅的小商店，我记得它的奇妙气味比其他任何东西都多。实际上，我很难记住很多-这是很久以前的事了。
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