There was only one letter in the mailbox – and it was for Sophie. The white envelope read: "Sophie Amundsen, 3 Clover Close." That was all; it did not say who it was from. There was no stamp on it either. As soon as Sophie had closed the gate behind her she opened the envelope. It contained only a slip of paper no bigger than the envelope. It read: Who are you? Nothing else, only the three words, written by hand, and followed by a large question mark. She looked at the envelope again. The letter was definitely for her. Who could have dropped it in the mailbox? Sophie let herself quickly into the red house. As always, her cat Sherekan managed to slink out of the bushes, jump onto the front step, and slip in through the door before she closed it behind her.
今天，信箱里却只有一封信，而且是写给苏菲的。信封上写着：“苜蓿路三号，苏菲收”。只此而已，没有写寄信人的名字，也没贴邮票。 苏菲随手把门带上后，便拆开了信封。里面只有一小张约莫跟信封一样大小的纸，上面写着：你是谁？ 除此之外，什么也没有。没有问候的话，也没有回信地址，只有这三个手写的字，后面是一个大大的问号。 苏菲再看看信封。没错，信是写给她的。但又是谁把它放在信箱里呢？ 苏菲快步走进她家那栋漆成红色的房子里。当她正要把房门带上时，她的猫咪雪儿一如往常般悄悄自树丛中走出，跳到门前的台阶上，一溜烟就钻了进来。
A passing truck banged up the mailbox.
Clover can be grown as food for cattle.
The thief slunk down the dark alley.
He scrabbled about in the bush for the ball.
I was unlucky to slip on a banana skin and fall over.