“没关系，” 杰克说，“有五百万个理由，这和其他任何理由一样好。”
“That’s all right,” Jake said. “There’s five million reasons, and that’s as good a one as any.”
“但是到午饭的时候我感觉好多了，有点兴奋，但还不错。午饭后我又感到沮丧和非常孤独。你知道的。就像那只老鸟在柱子上待了那么久。西蒙什么的。”
“But by lunchtime I felt pretty good,” the young man went on, “a little buzzy, but pretty good. After lunch I felt depressed again and very solitary. You know. Like the old bird who stayed up on the pillar all that time. Simon Something-or-other.”
“最初的旗杆静坐者，” 马龙说，“你做了什么，爬上了一根电线杆吗？”
“The original flagpole sitter,” Malone said. “What did you do, go climb up a telephone pole?”
罗斯?麦克劳林咧嘴一笑，“我回到我的房间又喝了几杯。” 笑容消失了。“我不记得了 —— 事情又变得模糊了。最近不知为什么，我似乎忘记了我喝酒的时候发生的事情。昨天……” 他皱起眉头。“我和洛特斯说了几句话。不记得说了什么。还有别的事情。关于一个男人 —— 我想他是黑头发，卷发，戴着眼镜。”
Ross McLaurin grinned, “I went up to my room and had a few drinks.” The grin faded. “I don’t—things get vague again. For some reason lately I seem to forget what happened when I was drinking. Yesterday—” He frowned. “I had a word with Lotus. Don’t recall what about. There’s something else, too. About a man—he was black-haired, I think, curly hair, and he wore eyeglasses.”
“那是图伊兹。” 马龙说。
“That was Tuesday,” Malone said.
这个年轻人绝望地做了个手势。“我告诉你，我这辈子从没认识过一个叫杰拉尔德?图伊兹的人。你认为我会忘记认识一个叫杰拉尔德?图伊兹的人吗？”
The young man made a despairing gesture. “I tell you I never knew a Tuesday in my life. Do you think I’d forget knowing a man named Gerald Tuesday?”
“别担心，” 海伦安慰道，“接着说昨天的事。”
“Don’t worry about it,” Helene said soothingly. “Go on about yesterday.”
“就这些了，” 罗斯?麦克劳林疲倦地说，“没有别的了。就好像我一直在睡觉。不，等等。还有一件事。等等……”
“That’s all,” Ross McLaurin said wearily. “There just isn’t anything else. It’s as though I’d been sleeping all that time. No, wait. There is something. Wait—”
他们等着，紧张得喘不过气来。
They waited, and breathlessly.
“我想起来了，” 他得意地说，“我想起我背诵了吉卜林的《靴子》。”
“I remember,” he said triumphantly. “I remember reciting Kipling’s Boots.”
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