北方 作者： F. 斯科特 · 费兹杰拉德 编译：嘉炜 我第一次碰巧在市场街看到他们俩一起走过，我想我这辈子都没有像这样为某一对情侣而感到难过过。尽管我想同样的情况在每一个有军营驻扎的城市都在重演。 厄尔的外表装束，整个就让人浑身不自在，几乎是你所能想象的所有糟糕的方式来呈现的。他的帽子是绿色的，上面插着一根扎眼的羽毛；他的西装以一种怪异的方式开着叉然后又打了一个装饰性的结，这种风尚早已经被全国的广告和电影宣告过时了。显然，他还去了他原先的理发师那里，因为他的头发梳得整整齐齐地贴在他那粉红色的、剃得干干净净的脖子上。他看上去并不光鲜，也说不上困窘，但是每当磨坊镇的舞厅和郊游俱乐部的背景出现时，就会让你兴致全无，或者更确切地说，让艾莉彻底幻灭了。因为她怎么也没有想到现实会是这样；穿上这些衣服，连他那不凡身躯与生俱来的魅力也消失了。起初，他夸耀自己的好工作，直到他能”赚上快钱”，这份工作都会让他们过得不错。不过，从他以自己的方式回到艾莉的世界的那一刻起，他就心知肚明，这是毫无希望的。我不知道艾莉直接说了什么，也不知道她的悲伤和麻木之间哪个更严重，她行动迅速——因为在厄尔到达三天后，我和他一起坐火车去了北方。 “好了，到此为止吧。”厄尔闷闷不乐地说。“她是个很好的女孩，但对我来说，有点不切实际。我想她得嫁个有钱人，这样她也能享有应得的社会地位。这种装腔作势的东西我可欣赏不了。”他沉默了一会儿，喃喃道：“她说过一年后我可以再来看她，但我再也不会回来了。只要你有钱，贵族的那茬子事儿是还不错，只不过——” “只不过，那不是真实的。”他想把话说完。六个月来，他满心欢喜地生活在这个外省人的社会里，现在看来，他已经沾染那个社会中尽显“矫情、虚伪、做作”的习性。 过了一会儿，他问我：“嘿，你看到我上火车时看到啥了吗?”“两个可爱的女孩儿，都是独自一人。我们去下一车厢请他们吃午饭怎么样？我选穿蓝衣服的那个。”车开到一半时，他突然转过身来，对我说。“说吧，安迪。”他皱着眉头问。“有一件事——你猜她是怎么知道我以前是有轨电车的售票员的？我从没告诉过她。” “我可不知道。” I first happened upon them walking down Market Street together, and I don't think I've ever been so sorry for a couple in my life; though I suppose the same situation was repeating itself in every city where there had been camps. Exteriorly Earl had about everything wrong with him that could be imagined. His hat was green, with a radical feather; his suit was slashed and braided in a grotesque fashion that national advertising and the movies have put an end to. Evidently he had been to his old barber, for his hair bloused neatly on his pink, shaved neck. It wasn't as though he had been shiny and poor, but the background of mill-town dance halls and outing clubs flamed out at you--or rather flamed out at Ailie. For she had never quite imagined the reality; in these clothes even the natural grace of that magnificent body had departed. At first he boasted of his fine job; it would get them along all right until he could "see some easy money." But from the moment he came back into her world on its own terms he must have known it was hopeless. I don't know what Ailie said or how much her grief weighed against her stupefaction. She acted quickly--three days after his arrival, Earl and I went North together on the train. "Well, that's the end of that," he said moodily. "She's a wonderful girl, but too much of a highbrow for me. I guess she's got to marry some rich guy that'll give her a great social position. I can't see that stuck-up sort of thing." And then, later: "She said to come back and see her in a year, but I'll never go back. This aristocrat stuff is all right if you got the money for it, but--" "But it wasn't real," he meant to finish. The provincial society in which he had moved with so much satisfaction for six months already appeared to him as affected, "dudish" and artificial. "Say, did you see what I saw getting on the train?" he asked me after a while. "Two wonderful janes, all alone. What do you say we mosey into the next car and ask them to lunch? I'll take the one in blue." Halfway down the car he turned around suddenly. "Say, Andy," he demanded, frowning; "one thing--how do you suppose she knew I used to command a street car? I never told her that." "Search me."

圣诞前夕 作者： F. 斯科特 · 费兹杰拉德 编译：嘉炜 我们的支队第二天出发前往了米尔斯营，但我终究没有去法国。我们在长岛度过了寒冷的一个月，戴着钢盔上了一辆运输车，然后又出发了。 再也不会有战争了。我错过了战争。 当我回到塔尔顿时，我尝试着离开军队，但我仍有一个常备军任务，这花费了我的几乎整个冬天。厄尔·舍恩是第一批被遣散的军人之一。他想找到一份好工作，“趁时机还不错”。艾莉没有明确表态，她怎么看待他直接找工作的问题，但他们之间仍有一个共识，那就是他会回来的。 到今年1月，占据这座小城长达两年之久的军营，由于逐步解散正开始衰落。只有持续不断的焚化炉的气味，让人想起了那些过往的人事和喧嚣。那些正规军官同样因为错过战争而心怀不满，同时，他们的生活则仍然痛苦地集中在已与战争无缘的指挥部的建设上。 现在塔尔顿的年轻人开始从世界的各个角落汇涌归来了——有些人穿着加拿大的制服，有的杵着拐杖，还有一部分人则失去了手臂。刚回来的一个营的国民警卫队，正在大街上列队游行以缅怀逝者，然后慢慢的解散并告别了属于他们自己的传奇。他们前往当地商店的柜台，出售着那些过往相关的物件和故事。只有很少的几位身着制服和晚礼服军官和姑娘们，糅合着音乐和夜色，出现在乡村俱乐部的舞会上。 就在圣诞节前的一天，比尔·诺尔斯突然就回来了，并且出人意料的在第二天又离开了塔尔顿——不是他给艾莉表明了自己的最终决定，就是艾莉终于下定决心了。我有时会在她不忙着照顾萨凡纳和奥古斯塔退伍归来的英雄时看到她，同时我觉得自己像个不受关注的幸存者，我确实如此。她在等厄尔·舍恩，而且内心里充满了无限的不确定性，所以她不愿意谈论这件事。在我最终退伍的前三天，厄尔来了。 Our detachment started for Camp Mills next day, but I didn't go to France after all. We passed a cold month on Long Island, marched aboard a transport with steel helmets slung at our sides and then marched off again. There wasn't any more war. I had missed the war. When I came back to Tarleton I tried to get out of the Army, but I had a regular commission and it took most of the winter. But Earl Schoen was one of the first to be demobilized. He wanted to find a good job "while the picking was good." Ailie was noncommittal, but there was an understanding between them that he'd be back. By January the camps, which for two years had dominated the little city, were already fading. There was only the persistent incinerator smell to remind one of all that activity and bustle. What life remained centered bitterly about divisional headquarters building, with the disgruntled regular officers who had also missed the war. And now the young men of Tarleton began drifting back from the ends of the earth--some with Canadian uniforms, some with crutches or empty sleeves. A returned battalion of the National Guard paraded through the streets with open ranks for their dead, and then stepped down out of romance forever and sold you things over the counters of local stores. Only a few uniforms mingled with the dinner coats at the country-club dance. Just before Christmas, Bill Knowles arrived unexpectedly one day and left the next--either he gave Ailie an ultimatum or she had made up her mind at last. I saw her sometimes when she wasn't busy with returned heroes from Savannah and Augusta, but I felt like an outmoded survival--and I was. She was waiting for Earl Schoen with such a vast uncertainty that she didn't like to talk about it. Three days before I got my final discharge he came.

最后一晚 作者： F. 斯科特 · 费兹杰拉德 编译：嘉炜 到如今我仍然能真实感受到那最后的一晚，由粗糙的木板搭成的简易交谊厅，烛光摇曳，供给连的派对结束后，光影恍惚间四处散落着磨损了的装饰纸。忧伤的曼陀林飘荡在整个连队的过道上，那首《我那印第安纳的家乡》，将离愁别绪填满了这个有关告别的夏天。在这个神秘的充满了男性荷尔蒙的城市里，逐渐迷失了的三个姑娘也有某种预感——一种让人迷醉的无常，仿佛她们与来自军营的恋人们的故事，交织出了一张照亮了南方乡村的魔毯，而此刻随时都有一阵风带他们离开这里。我们举杯向迷醉中自己和这充满魅力的南方致敬，然后我们把用过的餐巾、饮罄的酒杯和一些记忆中的往事都留在了餐桌上，我们拉着彼此的手，步入月光之中。熄灯号都早已鸣响了，军营笼罩在万籁俱寂的夜色中，偶尔听到远处传来马的嘶鸣声，还有惹得我们大笑的那阵响亮的鼾声，以及警卫室那站岗的哨兵，将枪斜持扣响扳机的声音。 今天克雷克值班，我们其他人上了一辆在那等候多时的车，随车驶进了塔尔顿，留下了克雷克的女孩。然后艾莉和厄尔，莎莉和我，两两坐在宽阔的后座，转过身低头对着彼此，专注地说着悄悄话，接着，驶进那宽阔平坦的暗夜之中。 我们驱车穿过长满地衣和西班牙苔藓的松林，穿过一片休耕了的棉花地，沿着那条白得像世界边缘的公路行驶。我们把车停在一座磨坊那破碎的阴影下，那里有潺潺的流水声和焦躁不安的鸟鸣声，漫散的一片月光温柔的拥抱着这一切——它试图渗透到那些迷失了的农奴木屋、静止了的汽车和心灵的牢笼里。南方的一切都在为我们低声吟唱——我不知道他们是否还记得，但我从未忘怀——那些平静而苍白的面孔，那些令人迷醉又充满爱恋的眼神和话语: “你还好吗?” “还好，你呢?” “真的还好吗?” “是的。” 猛然间，我们意识到一切都有点迟了，似乎什么都已经不复存在。我们掉头驱车回往营地。 And I can still feel that last night vividly, the candlelight that flickered over the rough boards of the mess shack, over the frayed paper decorations left from the supply company's party, the sad mandolin down a company street that kept picking My Indiana Home out of the universal nostalgia of the departing summer. The three girls lost in this mysterious men's city felt something, too--a bewitched impermanence as though they were on a magic carpet that had lighted on the Southern countryside, and any moment the wind would lift it and waft it away. We toasted ourselves and the South. Then we left our napkins and empty glasses and a little of the past on the table, and hand in hand went out into the moonlight itself. Taps had been played; there was no sound but the far-away whinny of a horse, and a loud persistent snore at which we laughed, and the leathery snap of a sentry coming to port over by the guardhouse. Craker was on duty; we others got into a waiting car, motored into Tarleton and left Craker's girl. Then Ailie and Earl, Sally and I, two and two in the wide back seat, each couple turned from the other, absorbed and whispering, drove away into the wide, flat darkness. We drove through pine woods heavy with lichen and Spanish moss, and between the fallow cotton fields along a road white as the rim of the world. We parked under the broken shadow of a mill where there was the sound of running water and restive squawky birds and over everything a brightness that tried to filter in anywhere--into the lost nigger cabins, the automobile, the fastnesses of the heart. The South sang to us--I wonder if they remember. I remember--the cool pale faces, the somnolent amorous eyes and the voices: "Are you comfortable?" "Yes; are you?" "Are you sure you are?" "Yes." 音乐作者 ZakharValaha 来自 Pixabay Suddenly we knew it was late and there was nothing more. We turned home.

现实 作者： F. 斯科特 · 费兹杰拉德 编译：嘉炜 她用了“粗鲁”这个词，但是这词中却没有那种形容南方男孩的固有意念。只有她自己内心里一清二楚，她的耳朵分不清两个北方佬的口音。不知为什么，卡尔霍恩太太也并没有在厄尔出现在门口的时候晕死过去。艾莉父母的偏见曾一度被认为是无法消除的，但由于艾莉的主观意愿的微妙变化，如今却逐渐消失了。她的朋友们都很惊讶。艾莉，一直有一种凌驾于塔尔顿所有人之上的姿态，所以他的意中人也一直是军营里“最好的”男人——但是艾丽和舍恩中尉关系让人觉得无法理解！我渐渐厌倦了向人们解释，她只是在寻求新鲜感——实际上，大约每个星期都会有一个新人出现——一会儿是来自彭萨科拉的一个少官，一会儿又是一个来自新奥尔良的老朋友——但在这段时间里，厄尔·舍恩总会出现在其中。 由军官和士官组成的先遣部队接到了命令，要求于指定时间到达登船港，并乘船前往法国。我的名字在名单上。我在射击训练场已经呆了一个星期，当我回到营地的时候，厄尔立刻把我拉住了。 “我们要在交谊厅举行一个小小的告别派对。只有你、我、克雷克船长和三个女孩。” 厄尔和我去接女孩儿们。我们接了萨莉·卡罗尔·哈珀和南希·拉马尔，然后去了艾莉的家;在门口被管家告知说她不在家。 “不在家?”厄尔茫然地重复。“她在哪儿?” “她没有留下任何信息；只是说她不在家。” “但这是一件事情可真是有趣了！”他在熟悉的昏暗的走廊上踱来踱去，管家在门口等着。他突然想到了什么。“哎，”他告诉我——“是的，我觉得她受伤了。” 我只能沉默地等待着。他严肃地对管家说：“你告诉她，我要和她谈一下。” “她不在家，我怎么跟她说呢?” 厄尔又若有所思地绕过门廊，然后他点了几下头说: “她肯定因为城里发生的事而难过。” 他用三言两语向我扼要地描述了那件事。 “这样，你在车里等着。”我说。“也许我能解决这个问题。”他不情愿地退回车里，我对管家说:“奥利弗，你告诉艾莉小姐，我要单独见她。” 经过一阵争吵，他了解了艾莉的意思，又回来回答说: “艾莉小姐说她不想见那位先生，永远也不想。她说你想进来就进来吧。” 她在书房里。我原以为会看到她冷静、愤怒、富有尊严的样子，但她脸上的神情却充满了悲痛、纷乱、绝望。她的眼眶红红的，好像已经哭了好几个小时了。 “Oh，你好，安迪。”她断断续续地说。“我很久没见到你了。他走了?” “事已至此，艾莉——” “事已至此，艾莉！”她喊道。“事已至此，艾莉！你知道，他对我说话，装作尊重我。他站在离我十英尺远的地方，身边站着那个让人生厌的——那个让人生厌的女人——握着她的胳膊，跟她说话。然后，当他看到我时，又举起帽子跟我打招呼，好像什么事都没有发生。安迪，我不知道该怎么办。我不得不去药店要一杯水，我很害怕他会跟着我进来，所以我请求里奇先生让我从后门出去。我再也不想见到他，也不想听到他的消息。” 我尝试着安慰她。我说了一些在这种情况下该说的话，很快半个小时过去了。我还是无法触动她。有几次，她都是喃喃地说他不“真诚”，这是第四次，我想知道这个词对她意味着什么。我想这必然不是坚定不移的爱；我有点怀疑，这是她希望别人以某种特殊的方式来关心她。 我起身要走。然后，令人难以置信的是，外面的汽车喇叭不耐烦地响了三次。厄尔的这一举动让我震惊，这急躁的喇叭声，就像厄尔在房间里一样清楚地说：“好吧！见鬼去吧！我不会在这里等上一整夜的。” 艾莉目瞪口呆地看着我。突然，她的脸上出现了一种奇特的神情，并且逐渐舒展开来，忽隐忽现中露出了一种泪流满面，又神秘莫测的微笑。 “他真可怕，不是吗？”她无可奈何地绝望地喊道。“他难道不可怕吗?” “快点，”我赶紧说。“拿上你的披肩，这可是我们在塔尔顿的最后的一个夜晚了。” She used the word "tough" without the conviction it would have carried had he been a Southern boy. She only knew it with her mind; her ear couldn't distinguish between one Yankee voice and another. And somehow Mrs. Calhoun didn't expire at his appearance on the threshold. The supposedly ineradicable prejudices of Ailie's parents were a convenient phenomenon that disappeared at her wish. It was her friends who were astonished. Ailie, always a little above Tarleton, whose beaux had been very carefully the "nicest" men of the camp--Ailie and Lieutenant Schoen! I grew tired of assuring people that she was merely distracting herself--and indeed every week or so there was someone new--an ensign from Pensacola, an old friend from New Orleans--but always, in between times, there was Earl Schoen. Orders arrived for an advance party of officers and sergeants to proceed to the port of embarkation and take ship to France. My name was on the list. I had been on the range for a week and when I got back to camp, Earl Schoen buttonholed me immediately. "We're giving a little farewell party in the mess. Just you and I and Captain Craker and three girls." Earl and I were to call for the girls. We picked up Sally Carrol Happer and Nancy Lamar, and went on to Ailie's house; to be met at the door by the butler with the announcement that she wasn't home. "Isn't home?" Earl repeated blankly. "Where is she?" "Didn't leave no information about that; just said she wasn't home." "But this is a darn funny thing!" he exclaimed. He walked around the familiar dusky veranda while the butler waited at the door. Something occurred to him. "Say," he informed me--"say, I think she's sore." I waited. He said sternly to the butler, "You tell her I've got to speak to her a minute." "How'm I goin' tell her that when she ain't home?" Again Earl walked musingly around the porch. Then he nodded several times and said: "She's sore at something that happened downtown." In a few words he sketched out the matter to me. "Look here; you wait in the car," I said. "Maybe I can fix this." And when he reluctantly retreated: "Oliver, you tell Miss Ailie I want to see her alone." After some argument he bore this message and in a moment returned with a reply: "Miss Ailie say she don't want to see that other gentleman about nothing never. She say come in if you like." She was in the library. I had expected to see a picture of cool, outraged dignity, but her face was distraught, tumultuous, despairing. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as though she had been crying slowly and painfully, for hours. "Oh, hello, Andy," she said brokenly. "I haven't seen you for so long. Has he gone?" "Now, Ailie--"

厄尔和艾莉 作者： F. 斯科特 · 费兹杰拉德 编译：嘉炜 接下来的一个星期天下午，我在乡下一个半私人的游泳池，遇到了这位城中富有盛名的女生。当艾莉和我到达时，刚好看到舍恩在泳池的另一端，他那肌肉发达的身体从泳衣里无意的裸露出来。 “嘿,中尉！”他在远处跟我打招呼。 当我向他挥手回敬时，他咧嘴一笑，眨了眨眼，把头转向了身边的女孩。然后戳了戳她，朝我猛地摇了摇头，这是介绍的一种形式。 “和基蒂·普雷斯顿在一起的是谁？”艾莉问，当我告诉她时，她说厄尔看起来像一个有轨电车售票员，并假装为她寻找车程需求。 过了一会儿，他有力又优雅地钻进了水里并爬到我们泳池这边，我把他介绍给艾莉。 “你觉得我的姑娘怎么样，中尉?”他问道。“我跟你说过她很不错，对吧?”他把头转向艾莉；这是他想要暗示他的姑娘和艾莉是同一圈层的。“找一天傍晚我们一起在酒店吃晚饭怎么样?” 我一会儿就离开了他们，有意思的是，很显然艾莉也觉得呆在这里并不理想，但舍恩中尉并没有被如此轻易地劝退。他开心地、无伤大雅地打量着艾莉那可爱又苗条的身材，显然她认为她比其他姑娘更有吸引力。而不到一会儿，我看到他们一起在水里，艾丽神情严肃地游开了，舍恩则在她周围和她面前疯狂地一会儿沉在水里，一会儿又冒出头来，并且停下来，着迷地盯着她，就像一个男孩盯着航海玩具一样。 一个下午过去了，他一直守在她身边。最后艾莉走到我身边，笑着小声说:“他一直跟着我。就像我没有付车费给他买票一样。” 她快速地转过身。这时，基蒂·普雷斯顿小姐站在我们面前，脸上带着奇怪的慌乱。 “艾莉·卡尔霍恩，我没想到你会出来，故意从另一个女孩手中夺走一个男人。”——即将发生的事情使得艾莉的脸上掠过一阵警觉而难堪的表情。“我还以为你认为自己是超然于此的呢！” 普雷斯顿小姐的声音很低，但它保持着那种可以让人感受到，而不是直接听到的紧张。我看到艾莉清澈可爱的眼睛，惊恐地扫视四周。幸运的是，厄尔本人正愉快而天真地朝我们走来。 “如果你关心他，你就不应当在他面前贬低自己。”艾莉突然说道，并特意抬高了头。 她以她擅长的一贯的行事方式，来对抗基蒂的幼稚和激烈的占有欲。或者这正是你喜欢的，艾莉的特有“教养”，她通常也以此来对抗多数女孩子的“共性”。她转过了身。 “等一下，孩子！”舍恩喊道。“你的地址呢？”也许我应该给你打个电话。” 她看着厄尔的神情，足以向吉蒂表明她对他毫无兴趣。 “我这个月在红十字会很忙，”她说，她的声音和她向后梳着的金色头发一样冷冰冰的。“再见。” 在回家的路上，她笑了。她那受到困扰的神情消失了，因为之前曾被不情愿地卷入那桩低级的韵事而神伤。 她说：“她永远也抓不住那个年轻人。”“他想找个新人。” “显然他想要艾莉·卡尔霍恩。” 这个想法使她感到好笑。 “他可以把他的检票打孔器让我戴着，就像兄弟会的勋章一样。非常有趣！要是妈妈看见这样的人进了家门，她会躺下晕死过去。” 为了给足艾莉面子，他足足过了两个星期才来到她的家里。尽管他一直纠缠她，直到在后来的一次乡村俱乐部的舞会上她才假装表现出了厌烦。 “他真是再粗鲁不过了，安迪。”她小声对我说。“但是他很真诚。” The following Sunday afternoon I met the lady at a semiprivate swimming pool in the country. When Ailie and I arrived, there was Schoen's muscular body rippling out of a bathing suit at the far end of the pool. "Hey, lieutenant!" When I waved back at him he grinned and winked, jerking his head toward the girl at his side. Then, digging her in the ribs, he jerked his head at me. It was a form of introduction. "Who's that with Kitty Preston?" Ailie asked, and when I told her she said he looked like a street-car conductor, and pretended to look for her transfer. A moment later he crawled powerfully and gracefully down the pool and pulled himself up at our side. I introduced him to Ailie. "How do you like my girl, lieutenant?" he demanded. "I told you she was all right, didn't I?" He jerked his head toward Ailie; this time to indicate that his girl and Ailie moved in the same circles. "How about us all having dinner together down at the hotel some night?" I left them in a moment, amused as I saw Ailie visibly making up her mind that here, anyhow, was not the ideal. But Lieutenant Earl Schoen was not to be dismissed so lightly. He ran his eyes cheerfully and inoffensively over her cute, slight figure, and decided that she would do even better than the other. Then minutes later I saw them in the water together, Ailie swimming away with a grim little stroke she had, and Schoen wallowing riotously around her and ahead of her, sometimes pausing and staring at her, fascinated, as a boy might look at a nautical doll. While the afternoon passed he remained at her side. Finally Ailie came over to me and whispered, with a laugh: "He's following me around. He thinks I haven't paid my carfare." She turned quickly. Miss Kitty Preston, her face curiously flustered, stood facing us. "Ailie Calhoun, I didn't think it of you to go out and delib'ately try to take a man away from another girl."--An expression of distress at the impending scene flitted over Ailie's face.--"I thought you considered yourself above anything like that." Miss Preston's voice was low, but it held that tensity that can be felt farther than it can be heard, and I saw Ailie's clear lovely eyes glance about in panic. Luckily, Earl himself was ambling cheerfully and innocently toward us. "If you care for him you certainly oughtn't to belittle yourself in front of him," said Ailie in a flash, her head high. It was her acquaintance with the traditional way of behaving against Kitty Preston's naïve and fierce possessiveness, or if you prefer it, Ailie's "breeding" against the other's "commonness." She turned away. "Wait a minute, kid!" cried Earl Schoen. "How about your address? Maybe I'd like to give you a ring on the phone." She looked at him in a way that should have indicated to Kitty her entire lack of interest. "I'm very busy at the Red Cross this month," she said, her voice as cool as her slicked-back blond hair. "Good-by." On the way home she laughed. Her air of having been unwittingly involved in a contemptible business vanished. "She'll never hold that young man," she said. "He wants somebody new." "Apparently he wants Ailie Calhoun." The idea amused her. "He could give me his ticket punch to wear, like a fraternity pin. What fun! If mother ever saw anybody like that come in the house, she'd just lie down and die." And to give Ailie credit, it was fully a fortnight before he did come in her house, although he rushed her until she pretended to be annoyed at the next country-club dance. "He's the biggest tough, Andy," she whispered to me. "But he's so sincere.”

改变 作者： F. 斯科特 · 费兹杰拉德 编译：嘉炜 我应该像书中所说的那样，做一些理所当然的，道德高尚而正确的决定，因为她前面对坎比的行为确实让人瞧不起。事实相反，艾莉仍然只需要对我动一动手指，我就会马上出现在她面前。 几天后，她略带伤感的跟我说:“我知道你一定认为我很糟糕，就像我有时也觉得自己糟糕一样。但这次真的只是一个令人震惊的巧合而已。” 二十三岁的时候，我还在迷茫之中，对所有的事物都失去了信念，只知道有些人强大而意志坚定，很有魅力，可以为所欲为，而有些人却被现实捉弄得很狼狈。我希望我自己是前者，我也确信艾莉一定是前者。 我不得不改变一些对她的其他看法。在和一个女孩长时间地讨论接吻的问题时——那时候人们谈论接吻比实际上的接吻要多得多——我提到，艾莉只吻过两三个男人，而且是在她认为自己恋爱了的时候。令我相当迷惑不安的是，那个女孩笑得差点滚到地上。 “我说的这是真的。”我向她保证，但突然自己也意识到事实可能并非如此，于是还是强作镇定的说，“她亲口告诉我的。” “艾莉·卡尔霍恩！oh，我的天！怎么，我差点忘了去年在科技部的春季派对上的事——” 这是在九月。当时我们随时都可能出国，为了使我们的兵力尽可能的增强，第四训练营的最后一批军官也成功抵达了。第四个阵营与前三个阵营不同——候选人来自普通士兵；有些甚至是征兵师。他们的名字很奇怪，没有元音，除了少数年轻的民兵，你几乎可以当然地认定他们是毫无背景的。我们连队的新成员是来自马萨诸塞州新贝德福德的厄尔·舍恩中尉，他是我见过的最标志的身材，因为他身高一米九，黑头发，肤色鲜亮，深棕色的眼睛炯炯有神。他不是很聪明，而且没有受过教育，几乎是文盲，但他是一个优秀的军官，他脾气暴躁，指挥能力强，在军队的名利场如鱼得水。我把他的傲慢性格也归结于他的出身，他来自一个叫新贝德福德的乡村小镇。 我们被安排在一起，因此他住进了我的住所。不到一个星期，一张塔尔顿闻名的姑娘的照片，就被粗暴地钉在同住屋内的墙上。 “她绝非一个普通女孩儿。她是个名副其实的交际花，与这儿的名流们几乎都有来往。” Of course I should have made one of those fine moral decisions that people make in books, and despised her. On the contrary, I don't doubt that she could still have had me by raising her hand. A few days later she made it all right by saying wistfully, "I know you think it was terrible of me to think of myself at a time like that, but it was such a shocking coincidence." At twenty-three I was entirely unconvinced about anything, except that some people were strong and attractive and could do what they wanted, and others were caught and disgraced. I hoped I was of the former. I was sure Ailie was. I had to revise other ideas about her. In the course of a long discussion with some girl about kissing--in those days people still talked about kissing more than they kissed--I mentioned the fact that Ailie had only kissed two or three men, and only when she thought she was in love. To my considerable disconcertion the girl figuratively just lay on the floor and howled. "But it's true," I assured her, suddenly knowing it wasn't. "She told me herself." "Ailie Calhoun! Oh, my heavens! Why, last year at the Tech spring house party--" This was in September. We were going over-seas any week now, and to bring us up to full strength a last batch of officers from the fourth training camp arrived. The fourth camp wasn't like the first three--the candidates were from the ranks; even from the drafted divisions. They had queer names without vowels in them, and save for a few young militiamen, you couldn't take it for granted that they came out of any background at all. The addition to our company was Lieutenant Earl Schoen from New Bedford, Massachusetts; as fine a physical specimen as I have ever seen. He was six-foot-three, with black hair, high color and glossy dark-brown eyes. He wasn't very smart and he was definitely illiterate, yet he was a good officer, high-tempered and commanding, and with that becoming touch of vanity that sits well on the military. I had an idea that New Bedford was a country town, and set down his bumptious qualities to that. We were doubled up in living quarters and he came into my hut. Inside of a week there was a cabinet photograph of some Tarleton girl nailed brutally to the shack wall. "She's no jane or anything like that. She's a society girl; goes with all the best people here."

坎比之死 作者： F. 斯科特 · 费兹杰拉德 编译：嘉炜 终于有一天，她中断了所有的约会，因为比尔已经启程，马上就要回来了。我们非常冷静理性的谈论起他——关于这次他会否下定决定娶她?相反，坎比中尉的感性而冲动，这让他使自己成为一个别人非常讨厌的人。坎比告诉她，如果她嫁给诺尔斯，他就乘他的飞机爬上6000英尺，关掉发动机，然后放手。他的言论把她吓坏了——在比尔回来之前，我不得不把最后一次约会也让给了坎比。 星期六晚上，艾莉和比尔来到乡村俱乐部。他们在一起实在是太般配，我又一次感到嫉妒和悲伤。当他们在舞池里跳舞时，三人组的管弦乐队正在演奏《你走了之后》，我能听出一种凄美而不完整的演奏情绪，仿佛每一小节乐曲都会伴随着时间无法挽留的一起消逝。这时，我知道我已渐渐爱上塔尔顿这座城市。我惊慌失措地瞥了一眼，想看看外面那温暖的、吟唱着的黑暗中，是否会有什么面孔出现在我面前。那黑暗中浮现出了一对又一对穿着透明蝉纱和橄榄绿军装的情侣。 那是一个充满青春和战争的时代，过去和将来，再也没有如此多的爱。 当我和艾莉跳舞时，她突然拉着我去外面的车上。她想知道为什么今晚没人来打扰她？他们是不是以为她已经结婚了? “你会结婚吗?”我问。 “我不知道，安迪。有时，当他跟我许下相伴一生的承诺时，我会感到激动。”她的声音低沉而遥远。“然后，” 她笑了。她的身体如此脆弱和柔软，此刻正触动着我。她把脸朝向我。我们知道比尔离我们就在十码远以外的俱乐部里，最终一切那么突然又那么自然，我吻了她。我们的嘴唇只是试探性地接触；正好这时一名航空军官在我们附近的走廊拐了个弯，向黑暗中张望并犹豫了一下。 我叫了一声艾莉的名字，她低声应允了我。 “你听说今天下午的事了吗?” “什么事？”她身体前倾着，声音里已经充满了紧张。 “贺拉斯 · 坎比坠机了，当场死亡。” 她慢慢地起身，从车里走下来。 “你是说他死了?”她说。 “是的。他们不知道问题出在哪里，他的引擎——“ “Oh-h-h !” 她那刺耳的低语声，透过突然捂住她脸的双手传来。我们无助地看着她把头靠在车的一侧，哽咽着眼泪。过了一会儿，我去找比尔，他正站在一群没有女伴的年轻军官里，焦急地到处寻找着艾莉，我告诉比尔，她想回家了。 我坐在外面的台阶上。我不喜欢坎比，但对我来说，他那可怕的、毫无意义的死亡比法国成千上万人的死亡更真实。几分钟后，艾莉和比尔从俱乐部走了出来。艾莉正在抽泣，但当她看到我时，她的眼睛不自然的转动了一下，她迅速地走了过来。 “安迪”——她用一种急促而低沉的声音说——“我相信你绝对不会把我昨天告诉你的，关于坎比的事告诉任何人。我的意思是他说的话。” “当然不会。” 她又多看了我一秒钟，好像是要确定我能否保证。最后，她应该是得到了肯定的答案。接着，她发出一阵做作的细微感叹，我简直不敢相信自己的耳朵。她抬起了眉目，那神情的绝望，显然只能用表演来形容。 “安迪 !”她又叫了我的名字。 我不安地看着地面，意识到她是在提醒我，她在极力表明，她并不是有意要给男人带来灾难。 他们上一辆出租车时，比尔冲我道了一声晚安。 我回了一句晚安，但是，“你这可怜的傻瓜。”这句话还是忍住了没说出口。 One day she broke all her dates--Bill Knowles had leave and was coming. We talked of the event with scientific impersonality--would he move her to a decision? Lieutenant Canby, on the contrary, wasn't impersonal at all; made a nuisance of himself. He told her that if she married Knowles he was going to climb up six thousand feet in his aeroplane, shut off the motor and let go. He frightened her--I had to yield him my last date before Bill came. On Saturday night she and Bill Knowles came to the country club. They were very handsome together and once more I felt envious and sad. As they danced out on the floor the three-piece orchestra was playing After You've Gone, in a poignant incomplete way that I can hear yet, as if each bar were trickling off a precious minute of that time. I knew then that I had grown to love Tarleton, and I glanced about half in panic to see if some face wouldn't come in for me out of that warm, singing, outer darkness that yielded up couple after couple in organdie and olive drab. It was a time of youth and war, and there was never so much love around. When I danced with Ailie she suddenly suggested that we go outside to a car. She wanted to know why didn't people cut in on her tonight? Did they think she was already married? "Are you going to be?" "I don't know, Andy. Sometimes, when he treats me as if I were sacred, it thrills me." Her voice was hushed and far away. "And then--" She laughed. Her body, so frail and tender, was touching mine, her face was turned up to me, and there, suddenly, with Bill Knowles ten yards off, I could have kissed her at last. Our lips just touched experimentally; then an aviation officer turned a corner of the veranda near us, peered into our darkness and hesitated. "Ailie." "Yes." "You heard about this afternoon?" "What?" She leaned forward, tenseness already in her voice. "Horace Canby crashed. He was instantly killed." She got up slowly and stepped out of the car. "You mean he was killed?" she said. "Yes. They don't know what the trouble was. His motor--" "Oh-h-h!" Her rasping whisper came through the hands suddenly covering her face. We watched her helplessly as she put her head on the side of the car, gagging dry tears. After a minute I went for Bill, who was standing in the stag line, searching anxiously about for her, and told him she wanted to go home. I sat on the steps outside. I had disliked Canby, but his terrible, pointless death was more real to me then than the day's toll of thousands in France. In a few minutes Ailie and Bill came out. Ailie was whimpering a little, but when she saw me her eyes flexed and she came over swiftly. "Andy"--she spoke in a quick, low voice--"of course you must never tell anybody what I told you about Canby yesterday. What he said, I mean." "Of course not." She looked at me a second longer as if to be quite sure. Finally she was sure. Then she sighed in such a quaint little way that I could hardly believe my ears, and her brow went up in what can only be described as mock despair. "An-dy!" I looked uncomfortably at the ground, aware that she was calling my attention to her involuntarily disastrous effect on men. "Good night, Andy!" called Bill as they got into a taxi. "Good night," I said, and almost added: "You poor fool."

微妙的关系 作者： F. 斯科特 · 费兹杰拉德 编译：嘉炜 两个星期后，我和她坐在同一个阳台上，或者更确切地说，是她半躺在我怀里，但她几乎没有碰我，我也不记得她当时是怎么做到的。我曾经试图吻她，但没有成功，而且已经努力了将近一个小时。我们彼此打趣，她说我不真诚。我的理论是，如果她让我吻她，我就会爱上她。她的论点则认为，我这样显然是没有诚意的。 我们一直保持着这样的状态，在我也不知道能不能称作是暧昧的间歇，她告诉我她哥哥在耶鲁大学读大四时去世的事。她给我看了他的照片——那是一张英俊而真诚的脸，额头前留着莱因德克人的发式——她告诉我，如果遇到了跟他一样的男生，她就嫁给他。我发现这种家庭理想主义令人沮丧，因为即使是我如此的傲慢自信也是无法与死去的人相比的。 很多个夜晚，就这样过去了，最后我带着记忆中的玉兰花的香味，和一种模糊的不满又说不清的情绪回到营地——那是因为我从来没能吻到过她。星期六晚上我们去看杂耍，去乡村俱乐部，在那里她很少和一个男人能连续走上十步。她带我去烧烤和吵闹的西瓜派对，但她从来不觉得有必要或者是值得，把我对她的感觉变成是爱。我知道这并不难，但她是个19岁的聪明女孩儿，她一定已经看出我们在情感上的矛盾，所以，我成了她的知己。 我们谈到了比尔·诺尔斯。她在考虑跟他在一起；因为在纽约上学的那个冬天和那次在耶鲁的毕业舞会，使她的目光转向了北方，尽管她不愿承认这点。她说她不认为自己会嫁给一个南方人。渐渐地，我发现她意识和主观上确实有些不一样，特别是跟那些唱黑人歌曲、在乡村俱乐部酒吧里掷骰子的姑娘们相比。这就是我和比尔被她吸引的原因。我们大概是能懂她吧！ 六月和七月，那些关于海外的战事，以及零碎又真假难辨的可怕谣言传到我们耳边，艾莉的目光在乡村俱乐部的地板上到处扫视着，希望能够在那些高大的年轻军官中寻找到自己想要的面孔。她总是目光挑剔，但也还是有几个曾与她约会过，当然包括坎比中尉，她声称看不上他，但“因为他很真诚”，她还是愿意给他机会的。就这样，整个夏天他们的存在，几乎占据了在我跟艾莉的所有夜晚。 Two weeks later I sat with her on the same veranda, or rather she half lay in my arms and yet scarcely touched me--how she managed that I don't remember. I was trying unsuccessfully to kiss her, and had been trying for the best part of an hour. We had a sort of joke about my not being sincere. My theory was that if she'd let me kiss her I'd fall in love with her. Her argument was that I was obviously insincere. In a lull between two of these struggles she told me about her brother who had died in his senior year at Yale. She showed me his picture--it was a handsome, earnest face with a Leyendecker forelock--and told me that when she met someone who measured up to him she'd marry. I found this family idealism discouraging; even my brash confidence couldn't compete with the dead. The evening and other evenings passed like that, and ended with my going back to camp with the remembered smell of magnolia flowers and a mood of vague dissatisfaction. I never kissed her. We went to the vaudeville and to the country club on Saturday nights, where she seldom took ten consecutive steps with one man, and she took me to barbecues and rowdy watermelon parties, and never thought it was worth while to change what I felt for her into love. I see now that it wouldn't have been hard, but she was a wise nineteen and she must have seen that we were emotionally incompatible. So I became her confidant instead. We talked about Bill Knowles. She was considering Bill; for, though she wouldn't admit it, a winter at school in New York and a prom at Yale had turned her eyes North. She said she didn't think she'd marry a Southern man. And by degrees I saw that she was consciously and voluntarily different from these other girls who sang nigger songs and shot craps in the country-club bar. That's why Bill and I and others were drawn to her. We recognized her. June and July, while the rumors reached us faintly, ineffectually, of battle and terror overseas, Ailie's eyes roved here and there about the country-club floor, seeking for something among the tall young officers. She attached several, choosing them with unfailing perspicacity--save in the case of Lieutenant Canby, whom she claimed to despise, but, nevertheless, gave dates to "because he was so sincere"--and we apportioned her evenings among us all summer.

短促的良夜 作者： F. 斯科特 · 费兹杰拉德 编译：嘉炜 这就是艾莉——马上出现在眼前的，这个典型而纯粹的美国南方女孩。即使我没有听过露丝·德雷柏的独白表演，或是读过马斯·陈关于南方庄园往事的描写，我也能认出艾莉·卡尔霍恩来。她看起来灵逸动人，纯真外面还裹着一层甜甜的能言善辩；她被父亲、兄弟宠爱，被无数追求者簇拥，这种背景可以追溯到南方的英雄时代；她有这样的天赋，能游刃有余在与热烈无休止的斗争中，并总能获得不败的遗世独立。她的声音里有号令奴隶们四处走动的自如的调子，也有使北方佬军官们心灰意冷的冷漠语气；还有柔和的、哄人的语调，在夜色中混杂着陌生的可爱。 在黑暗中我几乎看不到她，此刻我也无意逗留，但当我起身要走时，她站在了门口橙黄色的灯光下。她身材娇小，金发碧眼；她脸上的胭脂太过炽热醒目，鼻子上抹着小丑般的亮白色，这更加突出了胭脂的热烈，但她看上去却像一颗星星一样闪闪发光。 “比尔走了以后，我会每晚都独自坐在这儿。也许你会带我去乡村俱乐部跳舞吧？”这个可怜的预言让比尔笑了起来。“等一下，”艾莉喃喃地说。“你的衣领都歪了。”（原话是枪杆歪了，有打趣的意思，意思是上战场的士兵枪杆都曲了） 她靠近我，用手挺直了我的衣领别针，还抬头看了我一会儿。不只是好奇，那是一种寻求的眼神，仿佛在问：“会是你吗?” 到最后，那晚我也像坎比中尉一样，不情愿地走进了，突然变得短促的良夜。 There she was--the Southern type in all its purity. I would have recognized Ailie Calhoun if I'd never heard Ruth Draper or read Marse Chan. She had the adroitness sugar-coated with sweet, voluble simplicity, the suggested background of devoted fathers, brothers and admirers stretching back into the South's heroic age, the unfailing coolness acquired in the endless struggle with the heat. There were notes in her voice that order slaves around, that withered up Yankee captains, and then soft, wheedling notes that mingled in unfamiliar loveliness with the night. I could scarcely see her in the darkness, but when I rose to go--it was plain that I was not to linger--she stood in the orange light from the doorway. She was small and very blond; there was too much fever-colored rouge on her face, accentuated by a nose dabbed clownish white, but she shone through that like a star. "After Bill goes I'll be sitting here all alone night after night. Maybe you'll take me to the country-club dances." The pathetic prophecy brought a laugh from Bill. "Wait a minute," Ailie murmured. "Your guns are all crooked." She straightened my collar pin, looking up at me for a second with something more than curiosity. It was a seeking look, as if she asked, "Could it be you?" Like Lieutenant Canby, I marched off unwillingly into the suddenly insufficient night.

艾莉 作者： F. 斯科特 · 费兹杰拉德 编译：嘉炜 比尔告诉我站在药店门口的姑娘就是其中的一个，他把我推了过去，但是当我近距离见到这个姑娘的时候，我发现我一点也不喜欢，甚至莫名的反感。 另外的两个女孩儿，分别叫艾莉·卡尔霍恩和莎莉·卡罗尔·哈珀。 从他给我介绍的方式，我就能感觉到他是对艾莉有好感的，但是他脑子里当时都是一些自私的想法，希望等自己离开之后，艾莉的生活能够变得既安静又无趣。 因为艾莉跟比尔太亲近，纵然她有一个这样可爱的名字，我还是会毫不犹豫地认为艾莉肯定也不是个好女孩，自然刻板的不佳印象也就这样进入了我的脑海。 对于23岁的我来说，比尔特意嘱咐我关于艾莉的事情，一定不会是什么好事儿；不过，如果当时比尔请求我，我肯定也会诚心发誓像照顾妹妹一样照顾艾莉，但是他并没有，他只是因为不得不离开而一直在大声地抱怨。 然而三天后，他打电话给我，说他第二天早上就要走了，晚上要带我去艾莉家。 那天我们先约在了旅馆见面，然后朝着绚丽而炎热的暮色，走向郊区。当我们抵达艾丽家门口时，从马路上可以看到，她家的房子正面有四根白色柱子，柱子后面的走廊漆黑的像个洞穴，藤蔓以各种姿态垂悬，蜿蜒在房子的结构上。 当我们走到人行道上时，一个穿白衣服的女孩从前门跌跌撞撞地走了出来，大声的喊着，对不起，我跟你说迟了。 那是艾莉，她看见了我们，又面带掩饰的对我们说，她是十分钟前才知道我们要过来的。显然目前的情况有些尴尬，她这些话是要说给另外的人听的。 突然传来椅子，”咯吱“声，另一个男人———从昏暗的游廊中出现，艾莉也突然安静了，他是哈里·李营的飞行员。 我们听见了争论声，艾莉喊着那个男人的名字，他叫坎比，她问他到底怎么了。 这样的情况既突然又尴尬，这让我跟比尔变得像是在法庭上，被公开诉讼的当事人一样紧张。 艾莉亲昵的安抚着坎比，说有些话要私底下跟他说，并对比尔表明了歉意，她需要一点时间来处理现在的状况。 他们走到了一边，艾莉开始跟他说这些什么。过了一会儿，坎比中尉非常不高兴，用一种严厉的声音大声的说，“那么我们就定在了星期四，这回是确定了，绝对不能再改，也不能再有其他情况。”接着他完全无视我跟比尔，就沿着小路走了下去。在灯光的照耀下，他那开飞机穿的马刺靴，闪闪发亮的刺眼。 看着他离开之后，艾莉把目光投向了我们，接着她一脸俏皮地看着我说：进来吧，安迪。 我有些错愕，很显然她知道的应该不仅仅只是我的名字。 "--and here's one of them now." We were in front of a drug store and he marched me in and introduced me to a lady I promptly detested. "The other two are Ailie Calhoun and Sally Carrol Happer.” I guessed from the way he pronounced her name, that he was interested in Ailie Calhoun. It was on his mind what she would be doing while he was gone; he wanted her to have a quiet, uninteresting time. At my age I don't even hesitate to confess that entirely unchivalrous images of Ailie Calhoun--that lovely name--rushed into my mind. At twenty-three there is no such thing as a preempted beauty; though, had Bill asked me, I would doubtless have sworn in all sincerity to care for her like a sister. He didn't; he was just fretting out loud at having to go. Three days later he telephoned me that he was leaving next morning and he'd take me to her house that night. We met at the hotel and walked uptown through the flowery, hot twilight. The four white pillars of the Calhoun house faced the street, and behind them the veranda was dark as a cave with hanging, weaving, climbing vines. When we came up the walk a girl in a white dress tumbled out of the front door, crying, "I'm so sorry I'm late!" and seeing us, added: "Why, I thought I heard you come ten minutes—" She broke off as a chair creaked and another man, an aviator from Camp Harry Lee, emerged from the obscurity of the veranda. "Why, Canby!" she cried. "How are you?” He and Bill Knowles waited with the tenseness of open litigants. "Canby, I want to whisper to you, honey," she said, after just a second. "You'll excuse us, Bill.” They went aside. Presently Lieutenant Canby, immensely displeased, said in a grim voice, "Then we'll make it Thursday, but that means sure." Scarcely nodding to us, he went down the walk, the spurs with which he presumably urged on his aeroplane gleaming in the lamplight. "Come in--I don't just know your name--" 音播封面人物是Kate Beckinsale 凯特 · 贝金赛尔，她的荧幕形象很贴合小说中 Ailie 艾莉的气质，图片来自豆瓣。

那时的我 作者： F. 斯科特 · 费兹杰拉德 编译：嘉炜 记得当我们都体验了，亚特兰大那特有的南方炎热，那让人疯魔的魅力之后，我们还是低估了塔尔顿这座城市。因为这里比我们到过的任何地方都还要热——在乔治亚州的太阳下，第一天就有十几个新兵热昏过去——有成群的牛在街区马路上飘过，就像是沙漠中的海市蜃楼一样，他们还被皮肤黝黑的牧牛人驱赶着，炽热的空气更加使你恍惚；这时候，你会想动一动手或者脚，来确定自己是否被炙热的阳光烤到已经石化，意识疲惫慵懒不堪的怀疑着自己是否还活着。 所以我就待在了营地里，我很乐意于，让沃伦中尉告诉我一些关于姑娘们的故事。对比现在，这已经是发生在十五年前的事了。现在的我早已忘记了那时自己的感受，只记得日子一天天过去，过得比现在好，但我心里空荡荡的，因为那时我奋力爱了三年的她要结婚了。我看到了剪报和报纸上的照片，上面写着，这是一场“浪漫的战时婚礼”，显得既昂贵又悲伤。我能清楚地感受到天空中的余晖是黑暗的，对于那时年轻而功利的我而言，我更多的是嫉妒，而不是为他们结婚感到懊悔。 后来有一天，我到塔尔顿城里去理发，碰到了一个名叫比尔的不错的小伙子，他和我在哈佛的时候是同班同学，之前我们都曾是国民警卫队服役；在被派往军营的最后一刻，他转到了航空部队并被留了下来。 他跟我打了招呼，并过分正经的跟我说，在他动身去德州之前，会把他知道的所有信息都告诉我，其实也就是关于三个姑娘的事情。 对于这三个姑娘，我还是很感兴趣的，可能也是因为当时失恋加上军营的生活过分无聊，天气似乎要把我整个人掏空了，异性的神秘感在本能上也刚好吸引着我，让我心中也燃起了莫名的期待感。 After Atlanta's elaborate and theatrical rendition of Southern charm, we all underestimated Tarleton. It was a little hotter than anywhere we'd been--a dozen rookies collapsed the first day in that Georgia sun--and when you saw herds of cows drifting through the business streets, hi-yaed by colored drovers, a trance stole down over you out of the hot light; you wanted to move a hand or foot to be sure you were alive. So I stayed out at camp and let Lieutenant Warren tell me about the girls. This was fifteen years ago, and I've forgotten how I felt, except that the days went along, one after another, better than they do now, and I was empty-hearted, because up North she whose legend I had loved for three years was getting married. I saw the clippings and newspaper photographs. It was "a romantic wartime wedding," all very rich and sad. I felt vividly the dark radiance of the sky under which it took place, and as a young snob, was more envious than sorry. A day came when I went into Tarleton for a haircut and ran into a nice fellow named Bill Knowles, who was in my time at Harvard. He'd been in the National Guard division that preceded us in camp; at the last moment he had transferred to aviation and been left behind. "I'm glad I met you, Andy," he said with undue seriousness. "I'll hand you on all my information before I start for Texas. You see, there're really only three girls here—" I was interested; there was something mystical about there being three girls. 音播封面人物是Josh Hartnett 乔什 · 哈奈特，他的形象很贴合小说主人公“我”的气质，图片来自豆瓣。