But Fagin sat silently by a dead fire, staring at the flame of a candle on the table beside him.

而费金却默默地坐在已经灭了的炉火旁，盯着身旁桌上的蜡烛的火苗。

Neat rows of white powder sat like dead fires, ready to burn at any moment.

一排排整齐的白色粉末就像死火一样，随时可能燃烧。

Ashes, Bran thought, old and faint, but ashes. It was the smell of burnt wood, soot, and charcoal. A dead fire.

是灰烬，布兰心想，淡淡的陈旧的灰烬。燃尽的木头、烟尘和焦炭。一个早已熄灭的火堆。