15
第15节
I didn't sleep too long, because I think it was only around ten o'clock when I woke up. I felt pretty hungry as soon as I had a cigarette. The last time I'd eaten was those two hamburgers I had with Brossard and Ackley when we went in to Agerstown to the movies. That was a long time ago. It seemed like fifty years ago. The phone was right next to me, and I started to call down and have them send up some breakfast, but I was sort of afraid they might send it up with old Maurice. If you think I was dying to see him again, you're crazy. So I just laid around in bed for a while and smoked another cigarette. I thought of giving old Jane a buzz, to see if she was home yet and all, but I wasn't in the mood.
我没睡多久，因为我记得自己醒来时候还只十点光景。我抽了支烟，立刻觉得肚子饿得厉害。我最后一次吃东西，还是跟勃罗萨德和阿克莱一起到埃杰斯镇看电影时吃的两容汉堡牛排。那已很久很久了，好象在五十年以前似的。电话就在我旁边，我本想打电话叫他们送早点上来，可我又怕他们会派老毛里斯送来早餐。你要是以为我急于再见他一面，那你才有神经病呢。所以我只是在床上躺了会儿，又抽了支烟。我本想打个电话给琴，看看她有没有回家，可我没那心情。
What I did do, I gave old Sally Hayes a buzz. She went to Mary A. Woodruff, and I knew she was home because I'd had this letter from her a couple of weeks ago. I wasn't too crazy about her, but I'd known her for years. I used to think she was quite intelligent, in my stupidity. The reason I did was because she knew quite a lot about the theater and plays and literature and all that stuff. If somebody knows quite a lot about those things, it takes you quite a while to find out whether they're really stupid or not. It took me years to find it out, in old Sally's case. I think I'd have found it out a lot sooner if we hadn't necked so damn much. My big trouble is, I always sort of think whoever I'm necking is a pretty intelligent person. It hasn't got a goddam thing to do with it, but I keep thinking it anyway.
我于是给老萨丽·海斯打了个电话。她在玛丽·伍德鲁夫念书，我知道她已放假回家，因为两星期之前我曾接到过她的信。我对她并不怎么倾心，可我认识她已有好几年了。我由于自己愚蠢，一直以为她十分聪明。我之所以这样想，是因为她对戏剧文学之类的玩艺儿懂得很多。要是一个人对这类玩艺儿懂得很多，那你就要花很大工夫才能发现这人是不是真正愚蠢。拿老萨丽来说，我花了几年工夫才发现。我想如果我们不老是在一起搂搂抱抱的，我也许能发现得更早一些。我的一个大问题是，只要是跟我在一起搂搂抱抱的姑娘，我总以为她们很聪明。其实这两件事没一点儿混帐关系，可我总要那么想。
Anyway, I gave her a buzz. First the maid answered. Then her father. Then she got on. "Sally?" I said.
嗯，我打了个电话给她。先是女佣人接电话。接着是她爸爸。接着她来了。“萨丽？”我说。
"Yes--who is this?" she said. She was quite a little phony. I'd already told her father who it was.
“不错——你是谁？”她说。她是个假模假式的姑娘。我早巳告诉她父亲我是谁了。
"Holden Caulfield. How are ya?"
“霍尔顿·考尔菲德。你好？”
"Holden! I'm fine! How are you?"
“霍尔顿！我很好！你好吗？”
"Swell. Listen. How are ya, anyway? I mean how's school?"
“好极了。听着。你好吗，嗯？我是说学校里？”
"Fine," she said. "I mean--you know."
“很好，”她说。“我是说——你懂得我的意思。”
"Swell. Well, listen. I was wondering if you were busy today. It's Sunday, but there's always one or two matinees going on Sunday. Benefits and that stuff. Would you care to go?"
“好极了。呃，听着。我不知道你今天有空没空，今天是星期天，可是星期天也总有一两场日戏演出。什么义演之类的玩艺儿。你想不想去？”
"I'd love to. Grand."
“我很想去。再好没有了。”
Grand. If there's one word I hate, it's grand. It's so phony. For a second, I was tempted to tell her to forget about the matinee. But we chewed the fat for a while. That is, she chewed it. You couldn't get a word in edgewise. First she told me about some Harvard guy-- it probably was a freshman, but she didn't say, naturally--that was rushing hell out of her. Calling her up night and day. Night and day--that killed me.
再好没有。我最讨厌的就是这句话，再好没有。它听去那么假模假式。一时间，我真想叫她忘了看日戏这回事吧。可我们又聊了一会儿天。那是说，她一个人聊了起来。你简直插不进一个宇。她先告诉我说有个哈佛学生——大概是一年级生，可她没说出来，自然啦——怎样在拚命追她。日日夜夜打电话绘她。日日夜夜——我听了差点儿笑死。
Then she told me about some other guy, some West Point cadet, that was cutting his throat over her too. Big deal. I told her to meet me under the clock at the Biltmore at two o'clock, and not to be late, because the show probably started at two-thirty. She was always late. Then I hung up. She gave me a pain in the ass, but she was very good-looking.
接着她又告诉我另外一个家伙，是什么西点军校的，也为她要寻死觅活。真了不起。我告诉她两点钟在比尔特摩的钟底下跟我见面，千万别迟到，因为戏大概在两点半开演。她平常总是迟到。随后我把电话挂了。她有点儿让我腻烦，不过长得倒是真漂亮。
After I made the date with old Sally, I got out of bed and got dressed and packed my bag. I took a look out the window before I left the room, though, to see how all the perverts were doing, but they all had their shades down. They were the heighth of modesty in the morning. Then I went down in the elevator and checked out. I didn't see old Maurice around anywhere. I didn't break my neck looking for him, naturally, the bastard.
我跟老萨丽订好约会以后，就从床上起来，穿好衣服，然后整理行装。我离开房间之前又往窗外望了望，看看所有那些心理变态的家伙都在干什么，可他们全把窗帘拉上了；到了早晨，他们都成了谦虚谨慎的君子淑女。我于是乘电梯下楼，结清了账。我哪儿也没看见老毛里斯。那个狗杂种，我不会为寻找他扭断自己脖子的，自然啦。
I got a cab outside the hotel, but I didn't have the faintest damn idea where I was going. I had no place to go. It was only Sunday, and I couldn't go home till Wednesday--or Tuesday the soonest. And I certainly didn't feel like going to another hotel and getting my brains beat out. So what I did, I told the driver to take me to Grand Central Station. It was right near the Biltmore, where I was meeting Sally later, and I figured what I'd do, I'd check my bags in one of those strong boxes that they give you a key to, then get some breakfast. I was sort of hungry. While I was in the cab, I took out my wallet and sort of counted my money. I don't remember exactly what I had left, but it was no fortune or anything. I'd spent a king's ransom in about two lousy weeks. I really had. I'm a goddam spendthrift at heart. What I don't spend, I lose. Half the time I sort of even forget to pick up my change, at restaurants and night clubs and all. It drives my parents crazy. You can't blame them. My father's quite wealthy, though. I don't know how much he makes--he's never discussed that stuff with me--but I imagine quite a lot. He's a corporation lawyer. Those boys really haul it in. Another reason I know he's quite well off, he's always investing money in shows on Broadway. They always flop, though, and it drives my mother crazy when he does it. She hasn't felt too healthy since my brother Allie died. She's very nervous. That's another reason why I hated like hell for her to know I got the ax again.
我在旅馆外面叫了辆出租汽车，可我一时想不起他妈的上哪儿去好。我没地方可去。今天才星期日，我要到星期三才能回家——最早也要到星期二。我当然不想再去住旅馆，让人把自己的脑浆打出来。最后我叫司机送我到中央大车站。那儿离比尔特摩很近，便于过会儿跟萨丽会面。我当时打算做的，是把我的两只手提箱存到车站的存物处，然后去吃早饭。我肚子真有点儿饿了。我在汽车里的时候，拿出我的皮夹来数了数钱。我记不得皮夹里还剩多少钱，反正已经不多。我在约莫两个混帐星期里已经花掉了一个国王的收入。一点不假。我天生是个败家子。有了钱不是花掉，就是丢掉。有多半时间我甚至都会在饭馆里或夜总会里忘记拿找给我的钱。我父母为这事恼火得要命，那也怪不得他们。我父亲倒是很有钱。我不知道他有多少收入——他从来不跟我谈这种事情——可我觉得他挣的很不少。他在一家公司里当法律顾问。干这一行的人都很能赚钱。我知道他有钱的另一个原因，是他老在百老汇的演出事业上投资。可他总是蚀掉老本，气得我母亲差点儿发疯。自从我弟弟艾里死后，她身体一直不很好。她的神经很衰弱。也就是为了这个缘故，我真他妈的不愿让她知道我给开除的事。
After I put my bags in one of those strong boxes at the station, I went into this little sandwich bar and bad breakfast. I had quite a large breakfast, for me--orange juice, bacon and eggs, toast and coffee. Usually I just drink some orange juice. I'm a very light eater. I really am. That's why I'm so damn skinny. I was supposed to be on this diet where you eat a lot of starches and crap, to gain weight and all, but I didn't ever do it. When I'm out somewhere, I generally just eat a Swiss cheese sandwich and a malted milk. It isn't much, but you get quite a lot of vitamins in the malted milk. H. V. Caulfield. Holden Vitamin Caulfield.
我在车站的存物处存好我的手提箱以后，就到一家卖夹馅面包的小饭馆里去吃早饭。我吃了一顿对我来说是很饱的早饭——桔子汁、咸肉蛋、烤面包片和咖啡。平常我只赐一点桔子汁。我的食量非常小。一点不假。正因为这个缘故，我才他妈的那么瘦。照医生嘱咐，我本来应该多吃些淀粉之类玩艺儿，好增加体重，可我从来不吃。我在外面吃饭的时候，往往只吃一份夹干酪的面包和一杯麦乳精。吃的不算多，可你在麦乳精里可以得到不少维生素。霍.维.考尔菲德。霍尔顿·维生素·考尔菲德。
While I was eating my eggs, these two nuns with suitcases and all--I guessed they were moving to another convent or something and were waiting for a train--came in and sat down next to me at the counter. They didn't seem to know what the hell to do with their suitcases, so I gave them a hand. They were these very inexpensive-looking suitcases--the ones that aren't genuine leather or anything. It isn't important, I know, but I hate it when somebody has cheap suitcases. It sounds terrible to say it, but I can even get to hate somebody, just looking at them, if they have cheap suitcases with them. Something happened once. For a while when I was at Elkton Hills, I roomed with this boy, Dick Slagle, that had these very inexpensive suitcases. He used to keep them under the bed, instead of on the rack, so that nobody'd see them standing next to mine. It depressed holy hell out of me, and I kept wanting to throw mine out or something, or even trade with him. Mine came from Mark Cross, and they were genuine cowhide and all that crap, and I guess they cost quite a pretty penny. But it was a funny thing. Here's what happened. What I did, I finally put my suitcases under my bed, instead of on the rack, so that old Slagle wouldn't get a goddam inferiority complex about it.
我正吃着蛋，忽然来了两个拿着手提箱的修女——我猜想她们大概是要搬到另外一个修道院去，正在等候火车——挨着我在吃饭的柜台旁边坐下。她们好象不知道拿她们的手提箱往哪儿搁好，因此我帮了她们一手。这两只手提箱看上去很不值钱——不是真皮的。这原是无关紧要的小事，我知道，可我最讨厌人家用不值钱的手提箱。这话听起来的确很可怕，可我只要瞧着不值钱的手提箱，甚至都会讨厌拿手提箱的人。曾经发生过这样一件事。我在爱尔克敦·希尔斯念书的时候，有一时期跟一个名叫狄克·斯莱格尔的家伙同住一个房间，他就用那种极不值钱的手提箱。他并不把这些箱子放在架子上，而是放在床底下，这样人家就看不见他的箱子跟我的箱子并列在一起。我为这件事心里烦得要命，真想把我自己的手提箱从窗口扔出去，或者甚至跟他的交换一下。我的箱子是马克·克罗斯制造的，完全是真牛皮，看样子很值几个钱。可是后来发生了一件好笑的事。事情是这样的，我最后也把我的手提箱从架子上取下来，搁到了我的床底下，好不让老斯莱格尔因此产生他妈的自卑感。
But here's what he did. The day after I put mine under my bed, he took them out and put them back on the rack. The reason he did it, it took me a while to find out, was because he wanted people to think my bags were his. He really did. He was a very funny guy, that way. He was always saying snotty things about them, my suitcases, for instance. He kept saying they were too new and bourgeois. That was his favorite goddam word. He read it somewhere or heard it somewhere. Everything I had was bourgeois as hell. Even my fountain pen was bourgeois. He borrowed it off me all the time, but it was bourgeois anyway. We only roomed together about two months. Then we both asked to be moved. And the funny thing was, I sort of missed him after we moved, because he had a helluva good sense of humor and we had a lot of fun sometimes. I wouldn't be surprised if he missed me, too. At first he only used to be kidding when he called my stuff bourgeois, and I didn't give a damn--it was sort of funny, in fact. Then, after a while, you could tell he wasn't kidding any more. The thing is, it's really hard to be roommates with people if your suitcases are much better than theirs--if yours are really good ones and theirs aren't. You think if they're intelligent and all, the other person, and have a good sense of humor, that they don't give a damn whose suitcases are better, but they do. They really do. It's one of the reasons why I roomed with a stupid bastard like Stradlater. At least his suitcases were as good as mine.
可是奇怪的事发生了，我把我的箱子搁到床底下之后，过了一天他却把它们取了出来，重新搁回到架子上。他这样做的原因，我过了很久才找出来，原来他是要人家把我的手提箱看作是他的。他真是这个意思。在这方面他这人的确十分好笑。比如说，他老是对我的手提箱说着难听的话。他口口声声说它们太新，太资产阶级。“资产阶级”是他最爱说的混帐口头禅。他不知是从哪儿谈到的或是听来的。我所有的一切全都他妈的太资产阶级。连我的自来水笔也太资产阶级。他一天到晚向我借着使，可它照样太资产阶级。我们同屋住了约莫两个月后，双方都要求换房。好笑的是，我们分开以后，我倒很有点想念他，因为他这个人非常富于幽默感，我们在一起有时也很快乐。如果他也同样在想念我，我决不会惊奇。最初他说我的东西太资产阶级，他只是说着玩儿，我听了一点也不在乎——事实上，还觉得有点好笑。可是过了些时候，你看得出他不是在说着玩了。问题是，如果你的手提箱比别人的值钱，你就很难跟他同住一屋——如果你的手提箱真的好，他们的真的不好。或许你看见对方为人聪明，富于幽默感，就会以为他们不在乎谁的手提箱好，那你就错了。他们可在乎呢。他们的确在乎。后来我去跟斯特拉德莱塔这样的傻杂种同住一屋，这也是原因之一。至少他的手提箱跟我的一样好。
Anyway, these two nuns were sitting next to me, and we sort of struck up a conversation. The one right next to me had one of those straw baskets that you see nuns and Salvation Army babes collecting dough with around Christmas time. You see them standing on corners, especially on Fifth Avenue, in front of the big department stores and all. Anyway, the one next to me dropped hers on the floor and I reached down and picked it up for her. I asked her if she was out collecting money for charity and all. She said no. She said she couldn't get it in her suitcase when she was packing it and she was just carrying it. She had a pretty nice smile when she looked at you. She had a big nose, and she had on those glasses with sort of iron rims that aren't too attractive, but she had a helluva kind face. "I thought if you were taking up a collection," I told her, "I could make a small contribution. You could keep the money for when you do take up a collection."
嗯，那两个修女坐在我旁边，我们就闲聊起来。我身旁的那个修女还带着一只草篮子，修女们和救世军姑娘们在圣诞节前就是用这种篮子向人募捐的。你常常看见她们拿着篮子站在角落里——尤其是在五马路上，在那些大百货公司门口。嗯，我身旁的那个修女把她的篮子掉在地上了，我就弯下腰去替她拾起来。我问她是不是出来募捐的。她说不是。她说她收拾行李的时候这只篮子装不进箱子，所以就提在手里。她望着你的时候，脸上的笑容很可爱。她的鼻子很大，戴的那副眼镜镶着铁边，不怎么好看，可她的脸却非常和蔼可亲。“我本来想，你们要是出来募捐，”我对她说，“我也许可以捐几个钱。其实你们不妨把钱留下，等到你们将来募捐的时候算是我捐的。”
"Oh, how very kind of you," she said, and the other one, her friend, looked over at me. The other one was reading a little black book while she drank her coffee. It looked like a Bible, but it was too skinny. It was a Bible-type book, though. All the two of them were eating for breakfast was toast and coffee. That depressed me. I hate it if I'm eating bacon and eggs or something and somebody else is only eating toast and coffee.
“哦，你真好，”她说。另外一个，她的朋友，也抬起头来看我。另外那个修女一边喝咖啡，一边在看一本黑皮的小书。那书的样子很象《圣经》，可是比《圣经》要薄得多。不过那是本属于《圣经》一类的书。她们两个都只吃烤面包片和咖啡当早点。我一见，心里就沮丧起来。我最讨厌我自己吃着咸肉蛋什么的，别人却只吃烤面包片和咖啡。
They let me give them ten bucks as a contribution. They kept asking me if I was sure I could afford it and all. I told them I had quite a bit of money with me, but they didn't seem to believe me. They took it, though, finally. The both of them kept thanking me so much it was embarrassing. I swung the conversation around to general topics and asked them where they were going. They said they were schoolteachers and that they'd just come from Chicago and that they were going to start teaching at some convent on 168th Street or 186th Street or one of those streets way the hell uptown. The one next to me, with the iron glasses, said she taught English and her friend taught history and American government. Then I started wondering like a bastard what the one sitting next to me, that taught English, thought about, being a nun and all, when she read certain books for English. Books not necessarily with a lot of sexy stuff in them, but books with lovers and all in them. Take old Eustacia Vye, in The Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy. She wasn't too sexy or anything, but even so you can't help wondering what a nun maybe thinks about when she reads about old Eustacia. I didn't say anything, though, naturally. All I said was English was my best subject.
她们同意我捐给她们十块钱，还不住地问我要不要紧。我对她们说我身边有不少钱，她们听了似乎不信。可她们终于把钱收下了。她们两个都不住口地向我道谢，倒弄得我很不好意思。我于是改换话题，问她们要到哪儿去。她们说她们都是教书的，刚从芝加哥来到这儿，要到第一六八条街或是第一八六条街或是其他任何一条远离市中心的小街上某个修道院里去教书。坐在我旁边那个戴眼镜的修女说她教英文，她朋友教历史和美国政府。我听了立刻胡思乱想起来，心想坐在我旁边那个教英文的院是个修女，在她阅读某些书备课的时候，不知有何感想。倒不一定是那种有许多色情描写的淫书，而是那种描写情人之类的作品。就拿托马斯·哈代的《还乡》里的游苔莎·裴伊来说，她并不太淫荡，可你仍不免要暗忖一个修女阅读老游苔莎这样的人物，心里不知会有何感想。我嘴里什么也没说，自然啦，我只说英文是我最好的一门功课。
"Oh, really? Oh, I'm so glad!" the one with the glasses, that taught English, said. "What have you read this year? I'd be very interested to know." She was really nice.
“哦，真的吗？哦，我听了真高兴！”那个戴眼镜教英文的说。“你今年念了些什么？我很想知道。”她的确和蔼可亲。
"Well, most of the time we were on the Anglo-Saxons. Beowulf, and old Grendel, and Lord Randal My Son, and all those things. But we had to read outside books for extra credit once in a while. I read The Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy, and Romeo and Juliet and Julius--"
“呃，我们多一半时间念盎格鲁·撤克逊文学。贝沃尔夫，还有格兰代尔，还有《兰德尔，我的儿子》，都是这一类的玩艺儿。可我们偶尔也得看些课外读物。我看过托马斯·哈代写的《还乡》还有《罗密欧与朱丽叶》和《袭力斯——》。”
"Oh, Romeo and Juliet! Lovely! Didn't you just love it?" She certainly didn't sound much like a nun.
“哦，《罗密欧与朱丽叶》！太好啦！你爱看吗？”听她的口气，的确不太象修女。
"Yes. I did. I liked it a lot. There were a few things I didn't like about it, but it was quite moving, on the whole."
“是的。我爱看。我很爱看。里面有些东西我不太喜欢，不过整个说来写得很动人。”
"What didn't you like about it? Can you remember?"
“有哪些地方你不喜欢？你还记得吗？”
To tell you the truth, it was sort of embarrassing, in a way, to be talking about Romeo and Juliet with her. I mean that play gets pretty sexy in some parts, and she was a nun and all, but she asked me, so I discussed it with her for a while. "Well, I'm not too crazy about Romeo and Juliet," I said. "I mean I like them, but--I don't know. They get pretty annoying sometimes. I mean I felt much sorrier when old Mercutio got killed than when Romeo and Juliet did. The think is, I never liked Romeo too much after Mercutio gets stabbed by that other man--Juliet's cousin--what's his name?"
说老实话，跟她讨论《罗密欧与未丽叶》，真有点不好意思。我是说这个剧本有些地方写得很肉麻，她呢，又是个修女什么的。可是她问了我，我也只好跟她讨论一会儿。“呃，我对罗密欧和朱丽叶并不太感兴趣，”我说。“我是说我喜欢倒是喜欢他们，不过———我不知道怎么说好。他们有时候很让人心里不安。我是说老茂丘西奥死的时候，倒是比罗密欧和朱丽叶死的时候更让我伤心。问题是，自从茂丘西奥死后，我就一直不太喜欢罗密欧了。那个刺死茂丘西奥的家伙——朱丽叶的堂兄——他叫什么名字？”
"Tybalt."
“提伯尔特。”
"That's right. Tybalt," I said--I always forget that guy's name. "It was Romeo's fault. I mean I liked him the best in the play, old Mercutio. I don't know. All those Montagues and Capulets, they're all right--especially Juliet--but Mercutio, he was--it's hard to explain. He was very smart and entertaining and all. The thing is, it drives me crazy if somebody gets killed-- especially somebody very smart and entertaining and all--and it's somebody else's fault. Romeo and Juliet, at least it was their own fault."
“不错。提伯尔特，”我说——我老忘掉那家伙的名字。“那全得怪罗密欧。我是说整个剧本里我最喜欢的是老茂丘西奥，我说不出什么道理。所有这些蒙太古和凯普莱特，他们都不错——特别是朱丽叶——可是茂丘西奥，他真是——简直很难解释。他这人十分大方，十分有趣。问题是，只要有人给人杀死，我心里总会难过得要命——特别是死的是个十分大方、十分有趣的人——况且不是他自己不好而是别人不好。至于罗密欧和朱丽叶，他们至少是自己不好。”
"What school do you go to?" she asked me. She probably wanted to get off the subject of Romeo and Juliet.
“你在哪个学校念书？”她问我。她大概不想跟我继续讨论罗密欧和朱丽叶，所以改换话题。
I told her Pencey, and she'd heard of it. She said it was a very good school. I let it pass, though. Then the other one, the one that taught history and government, said they'd better be running along. I took their check off them, but they wouldn't let me pay it. The one with the glasses made me give it back to her.
我告诉她说是潘西，她听说过这学校。她说这是间非常好的学校。我听了没吭声。随后另外一个，那个教历史和美国政府的，说她们该走了。我抢过她们的账单，可她们不肯让我付。那个戴眼镜的又从我手里要了回去。
"You've been more than generous," she said. "You're a very sweet boy." She certainly was nice. She reminded me a little bit of old Ernest Morrow's mother, the one I met on the train. When she smiled, mostly. "We've enjoyed talking to you so much," she said.
“你真是太慷概了，”她说。“你真是个非常可爱的孩子。”她这人真是和蔼可亲。她有点儿让我想起老欧纳斯特·摩罗的母亲，就是我在火车上遇见的那位。尤其是她笑的时候。“我们刚才跟你一块儿聊天，真是愉快极了。”她说。
I said I'd enjoyed talking to them a lot, too. I meant it, too. I'd have enjoyed it even more though, I think, if I hadn't been sort of afraid, the whole time I was talking to them, that they'd all of a sudden try to find out if I was a Catholic. Catholics are always trying to find out if you're a Catholic. It happens to me a lot, I know, partly because my last name is Irish, and most people of Irish descent are Catholics. As a matter of fact, my father was a Catholic once. He quit, though, when he married my mother. But Catholics are always trying to find out if you're a Catholic even if they don't know your last name. I knew this one Catholic boy, Louis Shaney, when I was at the Whooton School. He was the first boy I ever met there. He and I were sitting in the first two chairs outside the goddam infirmary, the day school opened, waiting for our physicals, and we sort of struck up this conversation about tennis. He was quite interested in tennis, and so was I. He told me he went to the Nationals at Forest Hills every summer, and I told him I did too, and then we talked about certain hot-shot tennis players for quite a while. He knew quite a lot about tennis, for a kid his age. He really did. Then, after a while, right in the middle of the goddam conversation, he asked me, "Did you happen to notice where the Catholic church is in town, by any chance?" The thing was, you could tell by the way he asked me that he was trying to find out if I was a Catholic.
我说我跟她们一块儿聊天，也很愉快。我说的也真是心里话。其实我倒是还能愉快些，我想，要不是在谈话中间我老有点儿担心，生怕她们突然问我是不是天主教徒。那些天主教徒老爱打听别人是不是天主教徒。我老是遇到这样的事，那是因为，我知道，我的姓是个爱尔兰姓，而那些爱尔兰后裔又多半是天主教徒。事实上，我父亲过去也的确入过天主教，但跟我母亲结婚后就离开了。不过那般天主教徒老爱打听你是不是天主教徒，哪怕他连你的姓都不知道。我在胡敦中学的时候，就认识一个天主教学生叫路易·夏尼的，他是我在胡敦时候最先结识的学生。他和我两个在开学那天同坐在混帐校医室外面最前头的两把椅子上，等候体格检查，我们两个开始谈起网球来。他对网球非常感兴趣，我也一样。他告诉我说他每年夏天都到森林山去参加联赛，我告诉他说我也去，于是我们一同聊了会儿某几个网球健将。他年纪不大，关于网球倒是知道的不少。一点不假。后来，就在他妈的谈话中间，他突然问：“我问你，你可曾注意到镇上的天主教堂在哪儿？”问题是，你可以从他问话的口气里听出，他实在是想要打听你是不是个天主教徒。
He really was. Not that he was prejudiced or anything, but he just wanted to know. He was enjoying the conversation about tennis and all, but you could tell he would've enjoyed it more if I was a Catholic and all. That kind of stuff drives me crazy. I'm not saying it ruined our conversation or anything--it didn't--but it sure as hell didn't do it any good. That's why I was glad those two nuns didn't ask me if I was a Catholic. It wouldn't have spoiled the conversation if they had, but it would've been different, probably. I'm not saying I blame Catholics. I don't.
他真的是在打听。倒不是他有什么偏见，而是他很想知道。他跟我一起聊着网球聊得挺高兴，可你看得出他要是知道我也是个天主教徒什么的，他心里一定会更高兴。这类的事儿让我难受得要命。我不是说会破坏我们谈话什么的——那倒不会——可也决不会给谈话带来什么好处，这一点是他妈的千真万确的。就是因为这个缘故，我很高兴那两个修女没问我是不是天主教徒。她们要是问了，倒也不一定会给谈话带来不快，不过整个情况大概会不一样了。我倒并不是在责怪那般天主教徒。一点也不。
I'd be the same way, probably, if I was a Catholic. It's just like those suitcases I was telling you about, in a way. All I'm saying is that it's no good for a nice conversation. That's all I'm saying.
我自己要是个天主教徒，大概也会这样做。说起来，倒有点儿跟我刚才讲的手提箱情况相同。我只是说它不会给一次愉快的谈话带来好处。这就是我要说的。
When they got up to go, the two nuns, I did something very stupid and embarrassing. I was smoking a cigarette, and when I stood up to say good-by to them, by mistake I blew some smoke in their face. I didn't mean to, but I did it. I apologized like a madman, and they were very polite and nice about it, but it was very embarrassing anyway.
这两个修女站起来要走的时候，我做了件非常傻、非常不好意思的事情。我正在抽烟，当我站起来跟她们说再见的时候，不知怎的把一些烟吹到她们脸上了。我并不是故意的，可我却这样做了。我象个疯子似的直向她们道歉，她们倒是很和气很有礼貌，可我却觉得非常不好意思。
After they left, I started getting sorry that I'd only given them ten bucks for their collection. But the thing was, I'd made that date to go to a matinee with old Sally Hayes, and I needed to keep some dough for the tickets and stuff. I was sorry anyway, though. Goddam money. It always ends up making you blue as hell.
她们走后，我开始后悔自己只捐给她们十块钱。不过问题是，我跟老萨丽·海斯约好了要去看日戏，我需要留点儿钱买戏票什么的。可我心里总觉得很不安。他妈的金钱。到头来它总会让你难过得要命。