The summer went that way. I do not remember much about the days, except that they were hot and that there were many victories in the papers. I was very healthy and my legs healed quickly so that it was not very long after I was first on crutches before I was through with them and walking with a cane.
Then I started treatments at the Ospedale Maggiore for bending the knees, mechanical treatments, baking in a box of mirrors with violet rays, massage, and baths. I went over there afternoons and afterward stopped at the caf?and had a drink and read the papers.
I did not roam around the town; but wanted to get home to the hospital from the caf? All I wanted was to see Catherine. The rest of the time I was glad to kill. Mostly I slept in the mornings, and in the afternoons, sometimes, I went to the races, and late to the mechanotherapy treatments.
Sometimes I stopped in at the AngloAmerican Club and sat in a deep leather-cushioned chair in front of the window and read the magazines. They would not let us go out together when I was off crutches because it was unseemly for a nurse to be seen unchaperoned with a patient who did not look as though he needed attendance, so we were not together much in the afternoons.
Although sometimes we could go out to dinner if Ferguson went along. Miss Van Campen had accepted the status that we were great friends because she got a great amount of work out of Catherine. She thought Catherine came from very good people and that prejudiced her in her favor finally.
Miss Van Campen admired family very much and came from an excellent family herself. The hospital was quite busy, too, and that kept her occupied. It was a hot summer and I knew many people in Milan but always was anxious to get back home to the hospital as soon as the afternoon was over.
At the front they were advancing on the Carso, they had taken Kuk across from Plava and were taking the Bainsizza plateau. The West front did not sound so good. It looked as though the war were going on for a long time. We were in the war now but I thought it would take a year to get any great amount of troops over and train them for combat.
Next year would be a bad year, or a good year maybe. The Italians were using up an awful amount of men. I did not see how it could go on. Even if they took all the Bainsizza and Monte San Gabriele there were plenty of mountains beyond for the Austrians. I had seen them. All the highest mountains were beyond.
On the Carso they were going forward but there were marshes and swamps down by the sea. Napoleon would have whipped the Austrians on the plains. He never would have fought them in the mountains. He would have let them come down and whipped them around Verona.
Still nobody was whipping any one on the Western front. Perhaps wars weren’t won any more. Maybe they went on forever. Maybe it was another Hundred Years’ War. I put the paper back on the rack and left the club. I went down the steps carefully and walked up the Via Manzoni.
Outside the Gran Hotel I met old Meyers and his wife getting out of a carriage. They were coming back from the races. She was a big-busted woman in black satin. He was short and old, with a white mustache and walked flat-footed with a cane.
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“你好啊?你好啊?”她和我握手。“哈罗,”迈耶斯说。
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"How do you do? How do you do?" She shook hands. "Hello," said Meyers.
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13
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“跑马财运怎么样?”
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"How were the races?"
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14
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“不错。挺好玩的。我赢了三次。”
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"Fine. They were just lovely. I had three winners."
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“你怎么样?”我问迈耶斯。
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"How did you do?" I asked Meyers.
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“不坏。我中了一次。”
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"All right. I had a winner."
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“他输赢怎么样我总不知道,”迈耶斯太太说。
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"I never know how he does," Mrs. Meyers said. "He never tells me."
"I do all right," Meyers said. He was being cordial. "You ought to come out." While he talked you had the impression that he was not looking at you or that he mistook you for some one else.
"Good-by," said Meyers. "You come around to the galleria. You know where my table is. We’re all there every afternoon." I went on up the street. I wanted to buy something at the Cova to take to Catherine. Inside, at the Cova, I bought a box of chocolate and while the girl wrapped it up I walked over to the bar. There were a couple of British and some aviators.
I had a martini alone, paid for it, picked up the box of chocolate at the outside counter and walked on home toward the hospital. Outside the little bar up the street from the Scala there were some people I knew, a vice-consul, two fellows who studied singing, and Ettore Moretti, an Italian from San Francisco who was in the Italian army.
I had a drink with them. One of the singers was named Ralph Simmons, and he was singing under the name of Enrico DelCredo. I never knew how well he could sing but he was always on the point of something very big happening.
① 患枯草热的人,容易伤风流鼻涕。②《托斯加》是意大利作曲家普契尼(1858—1924)的杰作之一;1900 年首次演出。
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He was fat and looked shopworn around the nose and mouth as though he had hayfever. He had come back from singing in Piacenza. He had sung Tosca and it had been wonderful.
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“自然你还没听我唱过,”他说。
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"Of course you’ve never heard me sing," he said.
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“这儿你什么时候登台?”
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"When will you sing here?"
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“今年秋天,就在那歌剧院里。”
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"I’ll be at the Scala in the fall."
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“我可以打赌,人家准会拿起凳子来扔你的,”爱多亚说。“你们听见他在摩得那给人家扔凳子了没有?”
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"I’ll bet they throw the benches at you," Ettore said. "Did you hear how they threw the benches at him in Modena?"
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“该死的撒谎。”
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"It’s a damned lie."
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“人家拿起凳子来扔他,”爱多亚说。“我当时在场。我亲自扔了六只凳子。”
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"They threw the benches at him," Ettore said. "I was there. I threw six benches myself."
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36
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“你无非是个旧金山来的意大利佬罢了。”
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"You’re just a wop from Frisco."
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37
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“他念不准意大利语,”爱多亚说。“他到处被人家扔凳子。”
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"He can’t pronounce Italian," Ettore said. "Everywhere he goes they throw the benches at him."
"Piacenza’s the toughest house to sing in the north of Italy," the other tenor said. "Believe me that’s a tough little house to sing." This tenor’s name was Edgar Saunders, and he sang under the name of Edouardo Giovanni.
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39
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“我倒很想在那儿看着人家给你扔凳子,”爱多亚说。“用意大利语唱歌你不行。”
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"I’d like to be there to see them throw the benches at you." Ettore said. "You can’t sing Italian."
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40
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“他是个傻子,”艾得加·桑达斯说。“他只会说扔凳子。”
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"He’s a nut," said Edgar Saunders. "All he knows how to say is throw benches."