It was too late to call up for a cab or anything, so I walked the whole way to the station. It wasn't too far, but it was cold as hell, and the snow made it hard for walking, and my Gladstones kept banging hell out of my legs.
时间太晚，巳叫不到出租汽车，所以我就一直步行到车站。路并不远，可是天冷得要命，一路上的积雪很不好走，那两只手提箱还他妈的不住磕碰着我的大腿。
I sort of enjoyed the air and all, though. The only trouble was, the cold made my nose hurt, and right under my upper lip, where old Stradlater'd laid one on me.
不过我倒很欣赏外面的新鲜空气。唯一不好受的是，冷风吹得我鼻子疼痛，还有我上嘴唇底下也疼，那是斯特拉德莱塔打我一拳的地方。
He'd smacked my lip right on my teeth, and it was pretty sore. My ears were nice and warm, though. That hat I bought had earlaps in it, and I put them on--I didn't give a damn how I looked. Nobody was around anyway.
他打得我的嘴唇撞在牙齿上，所以那地方疼得厉害。我的耳朵倒挺暖和。我买的那顶帽子上面有耳罩，我把它放下了——我他妈的才不在乎好看不好看哩。可是路上没一个人。
Everybody was in the sack.
人人都上床啦。
I was quite lucky when I got to the station, because I only had to wait about ten minutes for a train. While I waited, I got some snow in my hand and washed my face with it. I still had quite a bit of blood on.
到了车站，我发现自己的运气还不错，因为只消等约莫十分钟就有火车。我等着的时候，就捧起一掬雪洗了下我的脸。我脸上还有不少血呢。
Usually I like riding on trains, especially at night, with the lights on and the windows so black, and one of those guys coming up the aisle selling coffee and sandwiches and magazines. I usually buy a ham sandwich and about four magazines.
通常我很喜欢坐火车，尤其是在夜里，车里点着灯，窗外一片漆黑，过道上不时有人卖咖啡、夹馅面包和杂志。我一般总是买一份火腿面包和四本杂志。
If I'm on a train at night, I can usually even read one of those dumb stories in a magazine without puking. You know. One of those stories with a lot of phony, lean-jawed guys named David in it, and a lot of phony girls named Linda or Marcia that are always lighting all the goddam Davids' pipes for them.
我要是在晚上乘火车，通常还能看完杂志里某个无聊的故事而不至于作呕。你知道那故事。有一大堆叫大卫的瘦下巴的假惺惺人物，还有一大堆叫林达或玛莎的假惺惺姑娘，老是给大卫们点混帐的烟斗。
I can even read one of those lousy stories on a train at night, usually. But this time, it was different. I just didn't feel like it. I just sort of sat and not did anything. All I did was take off my hunting hat and put it in my pocket.
我晚上乘火车，通常都能把这类混帐故事看完一个。可这一次情况不同了。我没那心情。我光是坐在那里，什么也不干。我光是脱下我那顶猎人帽，放在我的衣袋里。
All of a sudden, this lady got on at Trenton and sat down next to me. Practically the whole car was empty, because it was pretty late and all, but she sat down next to me, instead of an empty seat, because she had this big bag with her and I was sitting in the front seat.
一霎时，有位太太从特兰敦上来，坐在我身旁。几乎整个车厢都空着，因为时间已经很晚，可她不去独坐个空位置，却一径坐到我身旁，原因是她带着一只大旅行袋，我又正好占着前面座位。
She stuck the bag right out in the middle of the aisle, where the conductor and everybody could trip 旅程，绊倒 over it. She had these orchids on, like she'd just been to a big party or something.
她把那只旅行袋往过道中央一放，也不管列车员或者什么人走过都可能绊一交。她身上戴着兰花，好象刚赴了什么重大宴会出来。
She was around forty or forty-five, I guess, but she was very good looking. Women kill me. They really do. I don't mean I'm oversexed or anything like that-although I am quite sexy. I just like them, I mean. They're always leaving their goddam bags out in the middle of the aisle.
她年纪约在四十到四十五左右，我揣摩，可她长得十分漂亮。女人能要我的命。她们的确能。我并不是说我这人有色情狂之类的毛病——虽然我倒是十分好色。我只是喜欢女人，我是说。她们老是把她们的混帐旅行袋放在过道中央。
Anyway, we were sitting there, and all of a sudden she said to me, "Excuse me, but isn't that a Pencey Prep sticker?" She was looking up at my suitcases, up on the rack架子.
嗯，我们这么坐着，忽然她对我说：“对不起，这不是一张潘西中学的签条吗？”她正拿眼望着上面行李架上我的两只手提箱。
"Yes, it is," I said. She was right. I did have a goddam Pencey sticker on one of my Gladstones. Very corny, I'll admit.
“不错，”我说。她说得不错。我有一只手提箱上面的确贴着潘西的签条。看上去十分粗俗，我承认。
"Oh, do you go to Pencey?" she said. She had a nice voice. A nice telephone voice, mostly. She should've carried a goddam telephone around with her.
“哦，你在潘西念书吗？”她说。她的声音十分好听，很象电话里的好听声音。她身上大概带着一架混帐电话机呢。
"Yes, I do," I said.
“晤，不错，”我说。
"Oh, how lovely! Perhaps you know my son, then, Ernest Morrow? He goes to Pencey."
“哦，多好！你也许认得我儿子吧。欧纳斯特.摩罗？他也在潘西念书。”
"Yes, I do. He's in my class."
“晤，我认识他。他跟我同班。”
Her son was doubtless the biggest bastard that ever went to Pencey, in the whole crumby history of the school. He was always going down the corridor, after he'd had a shower, snapping his soggy浸水的 old wet towel at people's asses. That's exactly the kind of a guy he was.
他儿子无疑是潘西有它那段混帐历史以来所招收到的最最混帐的学生。他洗完淋浴以后，老是在走廊上拿他的湿毛巾独别人的屁股。他完全是那样一种人。
"Oh, how nice!" the lady said. But not corny. She was just nice and all. "I must tell Ernest we met," she said. "May I ask your name, dear?"
“哦，多好啊！”那太太说。并不粗俗，而是和蔼可亲。“我一定要告诉欧纳斯特我遇见了你，”她说。“可以告诉我你的名字吗，亲爱的？”
"Rudolf Schmidt," I told her. I didn't feel like giving her my whole life history.
“鲁道尔夫.席密德，”我告诉她说。我并不想把我的一生经历都讲给她听。
Rudolf Schmidt was the name of the janitor of our dorm.
鲁道尔夫.席密德是我们宿舍看门人的名字。
"Do you like Pencey?" she asked me.
“你喜欢潘西吗？”她问我。
"Pencey? It's not too bad. It's not paradise or anything, but it's as good as most schools. Some of the faculty /ˈfæklti/ 全体教员 are pretty conscientious /ˌkɑːnʃiˈenʃəs/ 尽责的；."
“潘西？不算太坏。不是什么天堂，可也不比大多数的学校坏。有些教职人员倒是很正直。”
"Ernest just adores it."
“欧纳斯特简直崇拜它。”
"I know he does," I said. Then I started shooting the old crap 废话；around a little bit. "He adapts himself very well to things. He really does. I mean he really knows how to adapt himself."
“我知道他崇拜，”我说。接着我又信口开河了。“他很能适应环境。他真的能。我是说他真知道怎样适应环境。”
"Do you think so?" she asked me. She sounded interested as hell.
“你这样想吗？”她问我。听她的口气好象感兴趣极了。
"Ernest? Sure," I said. Then I watched her take off her gloves. Boy, was she lousy 恶心差劲 with rocks.
“欧纳斯特？当然啦，”我说。接着我看着她脱手套。嘿，她戴着一手的宝石哩。
"I just broke a nail, getting out of a cab," she said. She looked up at me and sort of smiled. She had a terrifically nice smile. She really did. Most people have hardly any smile at all, or a lousy one. "Ernest's father and I sometimes worry about him," she said.
“我打出租汽车里出来，不小心弄断了一个指甲，”她说。她抬头看了我一眼，微微一笑。她笑得漂亮极了。的确非常漂亮。有许多人简直不会笑，或者笑得很不雅观。“欧纳斯特的父亲和我有时很为他担心，”她说。
"We sometimes feel he's not a terribly good mixer."
“我们有时候觉得他不是个很好的交际家。”
"How do you mean?"
“你这话什么意思？”
"Well. He's a very sensitive boy. He's really never been a terribly good mixer with other boys. Perhaps he takes things a little more seriously than he should at his age."
“呃，这孩子十分敏感。他真的不会跟别的孩子相处。也许他看问题太严肃，不适于他的年龄。”
Sensitive. That killed me. That guy Morrow was about as sensitive as a goddam toilet seat.
敏感。简直笑死了我。摩罗那家伙敏感得就跟一只混帐马桶差不离。
I gave her a good look. She didn't look like any dope 笨蛋 to me. She looked like she might have a pretty damn good idea what a bastard she was the mother of.
我仔细打量她一下。她看去不象是个傻瓜。看她样子，似乎应该知道她自己儿子是什么样的杂种。
But you can't always tell--with somebody's mother, I mean. Mothers are all slightly insane神经病. The thing is, though, I liked old Morrow's mother. She was all right. "Would you care for a cigarette?" I asked her.
可是也很难说——我是说拿那些当母亲的来说。那些当母亲的全都有点儿神经病。不过，我倒是挺喜欢老摩罗的母亲。她看去挺不错。“你要抽支烟吗？”我问她。
She looked all around. "I don't believe this is a smoker, Rudolf," she said. Rudolf.
她往四下里望了望。“我不信这是节吸烟车厢，鲁道尔夫，”她说。鲁道尔夫。
That killed me.
真笑死了我。
"That's all right. We can smoke till they start screaming at us," I said. She took a cigarette off me, and I gave her a light.
“没关系。我们可以抽到他们开始向咱们嚷起来，”我说。她就从我手里拿了支香烟，我给她点了火。
She looked nice, smoking. She inhaled /ɪnˈheɪld/ 吸入 and all, but she didn't wolf 狼，大吃 the smoke down, the way most women around her age do. She had a lot of charm魅力. She had quite a lot of sex appeal呼吁，感染力, too, if you really want to know.
她抽烟的样子很美。她把烟吸进去，可并不象她那年纪的大多数女人那样咽下去。她有不少迷人之处。她还有不少富于性感的地方，你要是真想知道的话。
She was looking at me sort of funny. I may be wrong but I believe your nose is bleeding, dear, she said, all of a sudden.
她用一种异样的眼光看着我。“也许我眼花了可我相信你的鼻子在流血呢，亲爱的，”她突然说。
I nodded and took out my handkerchief. "I got hit with a snowball," I said. "One of those very icy ones." I probably would've told her what really happened, but it would've taken too long. I liked her, though. I was beginning to feel sort of sorry I'd told her my name was Rudolf Schmidt. "Old Ernie," I said.
我点了点头，掏出了我的手绢。“我中了个雪球，”我说。“一个硬得象冰一样的雪球。”要不是说来话长，我也许会把真情实况全告诉她。不过我确实很喜欢她。我开始有点儿后悔不该告诉她我的名字叫鲁道尔夫.席密德。“老欧尼，”我说。
"He's one of the most popular boys at Pencey. Did you know that?"
“他是潘西最有人缘的学生之一。你知道吗？”
"No, I didn't."
“不，我不知道。”
I nodded. "It really took everybody quite a long time to get to know him. He's a funny guy. A strange guy, in lots of ways--know what I mean? Like when I first met him. When I first met him, I thought he was kind of a snobbish /ˈsnɑːbɪʃ/势力的 person. That's what I thought. But he isn't. He's just got this very original personality that takes you a little while to get to know him."
我点了点头。“不管是谁，的确要过很久才了解。他是个怪人。许多方面都很怪——懂得我的意思吗？就象我刚遇到他那样。我刚遇到他的时候，还当他是个势利小人哩。我当时是这样想的。他其实不是。只是他的个性很特别，你得跟他相处久了才能了解他。”
Old Mrs. Morrow didn't say anything, but boy, you should've seen her. I had her glued /ɡluːd/ 胶合的to her seat. You take somebody's mother, all they want to hear about is what a hotshot their son is.
摩罗太大什么话也没说，可是，嘿，你真该见一下她当时的情景。我都把她胶住在位置上了。不管是谁家母亲，她们想要知道的，总是自己的儿子是个多么了不起的人物。
Then I really started chucking 轻叩；丢弃；解雇 the old crap 废话around. "Did he tell you about the elections?" I asked her. "The class elections?"
接着，我真正瞎扯起来。“他把选举的事告诉你了没有？”我问她。“班会选举？”
She shook her head. I had her in a trance恍惚, like. I really did.
她摇了摇头。我已经使她神魂颠倒了，好象是。她真有点神魂颠倒了。
"Well, a bunch of us wanted old Ernie to be president of the class. I mean he was the unanimous /juˈnænɪməs/ 全体一致的；choice. I mean he was the only boy that could really handle the job," I said--boy, was I chucking it. "But this other boy--Harry Fencer--was elected. And the reason he was elected, the simple and obvious reason, was because Ernie wouldn't let us nominate him. Because he's so darn非常（同 damn）shy and modest /ˈmɑːdɪst/谦虚的 and all. He refused. . . Boy, he's really shy. You oughta make him try to get over that." I looked at her. "Didn't he tell you about it?"
“呃，我们一大堆人全推选老欧尼当班长。我是说他是大家一致推选出来的。我是说只有他一个人才能真正担任这个工作。”我说——嘿，我真是越说越远啦。“可是另外那个学生——哈利.范里——当选了。他当选的原因是，那显而易见的原因是，欧尼怎么也不肯让我们给他提名。他真是腼腆谦虚得要命。他拒绝了……嘿，他真是腼腆。你应该帮助他克服这个缺点。”我瞅着她。“他告诉你这事没有？”
"No, he didn't."
“不，他没有。”
I nodded. "That's Ernie. He wouldn't. That's the one fault with him--he's too shy and modest. You really oughta get him to try to relax occasionally."
我点了点头。“这就是欧尼的为人。他不肯告诉人。他就是有这么个缺点——他太腼腆、也太谦虚了。你真应该让他随便点儿才是。”
Right that minute, the conductor came around for old Mrs. Morrow's ticket, and it gave me a chance to quit shooting it. I'm glad I shot it for a while, though. You take a guy like Morrow that's always snapping their towel at people's asses--really trying to hurt somebody with it--they don't just stay a rat鼠；卑鄙小人 while they're a kid.
就在这当儿，列车员过来查看摩罗太太的票，我趁机不再往下吹了。不过我很高兴自己瞎吹了一通。象摩罗这样老是用毛巾独人屁股的家伙——他这样做，是真要打疼别人——他们不仅在孩提时候下作。
They stay a rat their whole life. But I'll bet, after all the crap I shot, Mrs. Morrow'll keep thinking of him now as this very shy, modest guy that wouldn't let us nominate him for president. She might. You can't tell. Mothers aren't too sharp about that stuff.
他们一辈子都会下作。可我敢打赌，经我那么信口一吹，摩罗太太就会老以为他是个十分腼腆、十分谦虚的孩子，连我们提名选他做班长他都不肯。她大概会这样想的。那很难说。那些当母亲的对这类事情感觉都是不太灵敏的。
"Would you care for a cocktail?" I asked her. I was feeling in the mood for one myself. "We can go in the club car. All right?"
“你想喝杯鸡尾酒吗？”我问她。我自己心血来潮，很想喝一杯。“我们可以上餐车去。好不好？”
"Dear, are you allowed to order drinks?" she asked me. Not snotty下贱的, though. She was too charming and all to be snotty.
“亲爱的，你可以要酒喝吗？”她问我，不过问得并不卑鄙。她的一切都太迷人了，简直很难用上卑鄙二字。
"Well, no, not exactly, but I can usually get them on account of my heighth," I said. "And I have quite a bit of gray hair." I turned sideways and showed her my gray hair.
“呃，不，严格说来不可以，可我因为长得高，一般总可以要到，”我说。“再说我还有不少白头发呢。”我把头侧向一边，露出我的白头发她看。
It fascinated hell out of her.
她看了真乐得不可开交。
"C'mon, join me, why don't you?" I said. I'd've enjoyed having her.
“去吧，跟我一块儿去，成不成？”我说。我真希望有她陪我去。
"I really don't think I'd better. Thank you so much, though, dear," she said. "Anyway, the club car's most likely closed. It's quite late, you know." She was right. I'd forgotten all about what time it was.
“我真的不想喝。可我还是非常感谢你，亲爱的，”她说。“再说，餐车这会儿大概已停止营业。时间已经很晚了，你知道。”她说得不错。我完全忘记这会儿已是什么时候啦。
Then she looked at me and asked me what I was afraid she was going to ask me.
接着她看着我，问了我一个我一直怕她问的问题。
"Ernest wrote that he'd be home on Wednesday, that Christmas vacation would start on Wednesday," she said. "I hope you weren't called home suddenly because of illness in the family." She really looked worried about it.
“欧纳斯特信上说他将在屋期三回家，圣诞假期从星期三开始，”她说。“我希望你不是家里人生病，把你突然叫回去的吧。”她看去真的很担心。
She wasn't just being nosy /ˈnoʊzi/ 好管闲事, you could tell.
她不象是好管闲事，你看得出来。
"No, everybody's fine at home," I said. "It's me. I have to have this operation."
“不，家里人都很好，”我说。“是我自己。我得去动一下手术。”
"Oh! I'm so sorry," she said. She really was, too. I was right away sorry I'd said it, but it was too late.
“哦！我真替你难受，”她说。她也确实如此。我也马上后悔不该说这话，不过为时已经太晚。
"It isn't very serious. I have this tiny little tumor/ˈtuːmər/ 肿瘤on the brain."
“情况不算严重。我脑子里长了个小小的瘤子。”
"Oh, no!" She put her hand up to her mouth and all.
“哦，不会吧！”她举起一只手来捂住了嘴。
"Oh, I'll be all right and everything! It's right near the outside. And it's a very tiny one. They can take it out in about two minutes."
“哦，没什么危险！长得很靠外，而且非常小。要不了两分钟就能取出来。”
Then I started reading this timetable I had in my pocket. Just to stop lying. Once I get started, I can go on for hours if I feel like it. No kidding. Hours.
然后我从袋里掏出火车时刻表观看。光是为了不让自己再继续撒谎。我一开口，只要情绪对头，就能一连胡扯几个小时。不开玩笑。几个小时。
We didn't talk too much after that. She started reading this Vogue she had with her, and I looked out the window for a while. She got off at Newark. She wished me a lot of luck with the operation and all. She kept calling me Rudolf. Then she invited me to visit Ernie during the summer, at Gloucester, Massachusetts. She said their house was right on the beach, and they had a tennis court 法院；球场 and all, but I just thanked her and told her I was going to South America with my grandmother. Which was really a hot one, because my grandmother hardly ever even goes out of the house, except maybe to go to a goddam matinee or something. But I wouldn't visit that sonuvabitch Morrow for all the dough in the world, even if I was desperate /ˈdespərət/ 绝望 .
此后我们就不再怎么谈话。她开始阅读自己带来的那本《时尚》杂志，我往窗外眺望一会儿。她在纽瓦克下了车。她祝我手术进行得顺利。她不住地叫我鲁道尔夫。接着她请我明年夏天到马萨诸塞州的格洛斯特去看望欧尼。她说他们的别墅就在海滨，他们自己还有个网球场什么的，可我谢绝了，说我要跟我的祖母一块儿到南美去。这实在是弥天大谎，因为我祖母简直很少出屋子，除非出去看一场混帐日戏什么的。可是即使把全世界的钱都给我，我也不愿去看望那个婊子养的摩罗——哪怕是在我穷极潦倒的时候。