Эрнест Хемингуэй. Ожидание (читать онлайн). Учебник содержит три раздела

A DAY’S WAIT by E. Hemingway
He came into the room to shut the windows while me were still in bed and I saw he looked ill. He was shivering, his face was white, and he walked slowly as though it ached to move.
"What"s the matter, Schatz?"
"I"ve got a headache".
"You better go back to bed".
"No, I am all right".
"You go to bed. I"ll see you when I"m dressed".
But when I came downstairs he was dressed, sitting by the fire, looking a very sick and miserable boy of nine years. When I put my hand on his forehead I knew he had a fever.
"You go up to bed," said, "you are sick".
"I am all right", he said.
When the doctor came he took the boy"s temperature.
"What is it?" I asked him.
"One hundred and two."
Downstairs, the doctor left three different medicines in different coloured capsules with instructions for giving them. He seemed to know all about influenza and said there was nothing to worry about if the fever did not go above one hundred and four degrees. This was a light epidemic of influenza and there was no danger if you avoided pneumonia.
Back in the room I wrote the boy"s temperature down and made a note of the time to give the various capsules.
"Do you want me to read to you?"
"All right. If you want to," said the boy. His face was very white and there were dark areas under his eyes. He lay still in the bed and seemed very detached from what was going on.
I read about pirates from Howard Pyle"s "Book of Pirates", but I could see he was not following what I was reading.
"How do you feel, Schatz?" I asked him.
"Just the same, so far," he said.
I sat at the foot of the bed and read to myself while I waited for it to be time to give another capsule. It would have been natural for him to go to sleep, but when I looked up he was looking at the foot of the bed.
"Why, don"t you try to go to sleep? I"ll wake you up for the medicine."
"I"d rather stay awake."
After a while he said to me. "You don"t have to stay in here with me, Papa, if it bothers you."
"It doesn"t bother me."
"No, I mean you don"t have to stay if it"s going to bother you."
I thought perhaps he was a little light-headed and af ter giving him the prescribed capsules at eleven o"clock I went out for a while…
At the house they said the boy had refused to let any one come into the room.
"You can"t come in," he said. "You mustn"t get what I have." I went up to him and found him in exactly the same position I had left him, white-faced, but with the tops of his cheeks flushed by the fever, staring still, as he had stared, at the foot of the bed.
I took his temperature.
"What is it?"
"Something like a hundred," I said. It was one hundred and two and four tenths.
"It was a hundred and two," he said.
"Who said so? Your temperature is all right," I said. "It"s nothing to worry about."
"I don"t worry," he said, "but I can"t keep from thinking."
"Don"t think," I said. "Just take it easy."
"I"m taking it easy," he said and looked straight ahead.
He was evidently holding tight onto himself about something.
"Take this with water."
"Do you think it will do any good?"
"Of course, it will."
I sat down and opened the "Pirate" book and commenced to read, but I could see he was not following, so I stopped.
"About what time do you think I"m going to die?" he asked.
"What?"
"About how long will it be before I die?"
"You aren"t going to die. What"s the matter with you?"
"Oh, yes, I am. I heard him say a hundred and two."
"People don"t die with a fever of one hundred and two. That"s a silly way to talk."
"I know they do. At school in France the boys told me you can"t live with forty-four degrees. I"ve got a hundred and two."
He had been waiting to die all day, ever since nine o"clock in the morning.
"You poor Schatz," I said. "It"s like miles and kilometres. You aren"t going to die. That"s a different thermometre. On that thermometre thirty-seven is normal. On this kind it"s ninety-eight."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely," I said. "It"s like miles and kilometres. You know, like how many kilometres we make when we do seventy miles in the car?"
"Oh," he said.
But his gaze at the foot of the bed relaxed slowly. The hold over himself relaxed too, finally, and the next day he was very slack and cried very easily at little things that were of no importance.

Hemingway, Ernest (1899-1961): a prominent American novelist and short-story writer. He began to write fiction about 1923, his first books being the reflection of his war experience. "The Sun Also Rises" (1926) belongs to this period as well as "A Farewell to Arms" (1929) in which the antiwar protest is particularly powerful.

During the Civil War Hemingway visited Spain as a war correspondent. His impressions of the period and his sympathies with the Republicans found reflection in his famous play "The Fifth Column" (1937), the novel "For Whom the Bell Tolls" (1940) and a number of short stories.

His later works are "Across the River and into the Trees" (1950) and "The Old Man and the Sea" (1952) and the very last novel "Islands in the Stream" (1970) published after the author"s death. In 1954 he was awarded a Nobel Prize for literature.

Hemingway"s manner is characterized by deep psychological insight into the human nature. He early established himself as the master of a new style: laconic and somewhat dry.

He came into the room to shut the windows while we were still in bed and I saw he looked ill. He was shivering, his face was white, and he walked slowly as though it ached to move. "What"s the matter, Schatz?"

"I"ve got a headache."

"You"d better go back to bed."

"No, I"m all right."

"You go to bed. I"ll see you when I"m dressed."

But when I came downstairs he was dressed, sitting by the fire, looking a very sick and miserable boy of nine years. When I put my hand on his forehead I knew he had a fever.

"You go up to bed," I said, "you"re sick."

"I"m all right," he said.

When the doctor came he took the boy"s temperature.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"One hundred and two."

Downstairs, the doctor left three different medicines in different colored capsules with instructions for giving them. One was to bring down the fever, another a purgative, the third to overcome an acid condition. The germs of influenza can only exist in an acid condition, he explained. He seemed to know all about influenza and said there was nothing to worry about if the fever did not go above one hundred and four degrees. This was a light epidemic of flu and there was no danger if you avoided pneumonia.

Back in the room I wrote the boy"s temperature down and made a note of the time to give the various capsules.

"Do you want me to read to you?"

"All right, if you want to," said the boy. His face was very white and there were dark areas under his eyes. He lay still in the bed and seemed very detached from what was going on.

I read aloud from Howard Pyle"s Book of Pirates, but I could see he was not following what I was reading.

"How do you feel, Schatz?" I asked him.

"Just the same, so far," he said.

I sat at the foot of the bed and read to myself while I waited for it to be time to give another capsule. It would have been natural for him to go to sleep, but when I looked up he was looking at the foot of the bed, looking very strangely.

"Why don"t you try to go to sleep? I"ll wake you up for the medicine."

"I"d rather stay awake."

After a while he said to me, "You don"t have to stay in here with me, Papa, if it bothers you."

"It doesn"t bother me."

"No, I mean you don"t have to stay if it"s going to bother you."

I thought perhaps he was a little light-headed and after giving him the prescribed capsules at eleven o"clock I went out for a while.

It was a bright, cold day, the ground covered with a sleet that had frozen so that it seemed as if all the bare trees, the bushes, the cut brush and all the grass and the bare ground had been varnished with ice. I took the young Irish setter for a little walk up the road and along a frozen creek.

At the house they said the boy had refused to let any one come into the room.

"You can"t come in," he said. "You mustn"t get what I have." I went up to him and found him in exactly the position I had left him, white-faced, but with the tops of his cheeks flushed by the fever, staring still, as he had stared, at the foot of the bed.

I took his temperature.

"Something like a hundred," I said. It was one hundred and two and four tenths.

"It was a hundred and two," he said.

"Your temperature is all right," I said. "It"s nothing to worry about."

"I don"t worry," he said, "but I can"t keep from thinking."

"Don"t think," I said. "Just take it easy."

"I"m taking it easy," he said and looked worried about something.

"Take this with water."

"Do you think it will do any good?"

"Of course, it will,"

I sat down and opened the Pirate Book and commenced to read but I could see he was not following, so I stopped.

"About what time do you think I"m going to die?" he asked.

"About how long will it be before I die?"

"You aren"t going to die. What"s the matter with you?"

"Oh, yes, I am. I heard him say a hundred and two."

"People don"t die with a fever of one hundred and two. That"s a silly way to talk!"

"I know they do. At school in France the boys told me you can"t live with forty-four degrees. I"ve got a hundred and two."

He had been waiting to die all day, ever since nine o"clock in the morning.

"You poor Schatz," I said. "Poor old Schatz, it"s like miles and kilometers. You aren"t going to die. That"s a diflerent thermometer. On that thermometer thirty-seven is normal. On this kind it"s ninety-eight."

"Absolutely," I said. "It"s like miles and kilometers. You know, like how many kilometers we make when we do seventy miles in the car?"

But his gaze at the foot of the bed relaxed slowly. The hold over himself relaxed too, finally, and the next day it was very slack and he cried very easily at little things that were of no importance.

A DAY’S WAIT by E. Hemingway
He came into the room to shut the windows while me were still in bed and I saw he looked ill. He was shivering, his face was white, and he walked slowly as though it ached to move.
"What"s the matter, Schatz?"
"I"ve got a headache".
"You better go back to bed".
"No, I am all right".
"You go to bed. I"ll see you when I"m dressed".
But when I came downstairs he was dressed, sitting by the fire, looking a very sick and miserable boy of nine years. When I put my hand on his forehead I knew he had a fever.
"You go up to bed," said, "you are sick".
"I am all right", he said.
When the doctor came he took the boy"s temperature.
"What is it?" I asked him.
"One hundred and two."
Downstairs, the doctor left three different medicines in different coloured capsules with instructions for giving them. He seemed to know all about influenza and said there was nothing to worry about if the fever did not go above one hundred and four degrees. This was a light epidemic of influenza and there was no danger if you avoided pneumonia.
Back in the room I wrote the boy"s temperature down and made a note of the time to give the various capsules.
"Do you want me to read to you?"
"All right. If you want to," said the boy. His face was very white and there were dark areas under his eyes. He lay still in the bed and seemed very detached from what was going on.
I read about pirates from Howard Pyle"s "Book of Pirates", but I could see he was not following what I was reading.
"How do you feel, Schatz?" I asked him.
"Just the same, so far," he said.
I sat at the foot of the bed and read to myself while I waited for it to be time to give another capsule. It would have been natural for him to go to sleep, but when I looked up he was looking at the foot of the bed.
"Why, don"t you try to go to sleep? I"ll wake you up for the medicine."
"I"d rather stay awake."
After a while he said to me. "You don"t have to stay in here with me, Papa, if it bothers you."
"It doesn"t bother me."
"No, I mean you don"t have to stay if it"s going to bother you."
I thought perhaps he was a little light-headed and af ter giving him the prescribed capsules at eleven o"clock I went out for a while…
At the house they said the boy had refused to let any one come into the room.
"You can"t come in," he said. "You mustn"t get what I have." I went up to him and found him in exactly the same position I had left him, white-faced, but with the tops of his cheeks flushed by the fever, staring still, as he had stared, at the foot of the bed.
I took his temperature.
"What is it?"
"Something like a hundred," I said. It was one hundred and two and four tenths.
"It was a hundred and two," he said.
"Who said so? Your temperature is all right," I said. "It"s nothing to worry about."
"I don"t worry," he said, "but I can"t keep from thinking."
"Don"t think," I said. "Just take it easy."
"I"m taking it easy," he said and looked straight ahead.
He was evidently holding tight onto himself about something.
"Take this with water."
"Do you think it will do any good?"
"Of course, it will."
I sat down and opened the "Pirate" book and commenced to read, but I could see he was not following, so I stopped.
"About what time do you think I"m going to die?" he asked.
"What?"
"About how long will it be before I die?"
"You aren"t going to die. What"s the matter with you?"
"Oh, yes, I am. I heard him say a hundred and two."
"People don"t die with a fever of one hundred and two.

Hemingway, Ernest (1899-1961): a prominent American novelist and short-story writer. He began to write fiction about 1923, his first books being the reflection of his war experience. "The Sun Also Rises" (1926) belongs to this period as well as "A Farewell to Arms" (1929) in which the antiwar protest is particularly powerful.

During the Civil War Hemingway visited Spain as a war correspondent. His impressions of the period and his sympathies with the Republicans found reflection in his famous play "The Fifth Column" (1937), the novel "For Whom the Bell Tolls" (1940) and a number of short stories.

His later works are "Across the River and into the Trees" (1950) and "The Old Man and the Sea" (1952) and the very last novel "Islands in the Stream" (1970) published after the author"s death. In 1954 he was awarded a Nobel Prize for literature.

Hemingway"s manner is characterized by deep psychological insight into the human nature. He early established himself as the master of a new style: laconic and somewhat dry.

He came into the room to shut the windows while we were still in bed and I saw he looked ill. He was shivering, his face was white, and he walked slowly as though it ached to move. "What"s the matter, Schatz?"

"I"ve got a headache."

"You"d better go back to bed."

"No, I"m all right."

"You go to bed. I"ll see you when I"m dressed."

But when I came downstairs he was dressed, sitting by the fire, looking a very sick and miserable boy of nine years. When I put my hand on his forehead I knew he had a fever.

"You go up to bed," I said, "you"re sick."

"I"m all right," he said.

When the doctor came he took the boy"s temperature.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"One hundred and two."

Downstairs, the doctor left three different medicines in different colored capsules with instructions for giving them. One was to bring down the fever, another a purgative, the third to overcome an acid condition. The germs of influenza can only exist in an acid condition, he explained. He seemed to know all about influenza and said there was nothing to worry about if the fever did not go above one hundred and four degrees. This was a light epidemic of flu and there was no danger if you avoided pneumonia.

Back in the room I wrote the boy"s temperature down and made a note of the time to give the various capsules.

"Do you want me to read to you?"

"All right, if you want to," said the boy. His face was very white and there were dark areas under his eyes. He lay still in the bed and seemed very detached from what was going on.

I read aloud from Howard Pyle"s Book of Pirates, but I could see he was not following what I was reading.

"How do you feel, Schatz?" I asked him.

"Just the same, so far," he said.

I sat at the foot of the bed and read to myself while I waited for it to be time to give another capsule. It would have been natural for him to go to sleep, but when I looked up he was looking at the foot of the bed, looking very strangely.

"Why don"t you try to go to sleep? I"ll wake you up for the medicine."

"I"d rather stay awake."

After a while he said to me, "You don"t have to stay in here with me, Papa, if it bothers you."

"It doesn"t bother me."

"No, I mean you don"t have to stay if it"s going to bother you."

I thought perhaps he was a little light-headed and after giving him the prescribed capsules at eleven o"clock I went out for a while.

It was a bright, cold day, the ground covered with a sleet that had frozen so that it seemed as if all the bare trees, the bushes, the cut brush and all the grass and the bare ground had been varnished with ice. I took the young Irish setter for a little walk up the road and along a frozen creek.

At the house they said the boy had refused to let any one come into the room.

"You can"t come in," he said. "You mustn"t get what I have." I went up to him and found him in exactly the position I had left him, white-faced, but with the tops of his cheeks flushed by the fever, staring still, as he had stared, at the foot of the bed.

I took his temperature.

"Something like a hundred," I said. It was one hundred and two and four tenths.

"It was a hundred and two," he said.

"Your temperature is all right," I said. "It"s nothing to worry about."

"I don"t worry," he said, "but I can"t keep from thinking."

"Don"t think," I said. "Just take it easy."

"I"m taking it easy," he said and looked worried about something.

"Take this with water."

"Do you think it will do any good?"

"Of course, it will,"

I sat down and opened the Pirate Book and commenced to read but I could see he was not following, so I stopped.

"About what time do you think I"m going to die?" he asked.

"About how long will it be before I die?"

"You aren"t going to die. What"s the matter with you?"

"Oh, yes, I am. I heard him say a hundred and two."

"People don"t die with a fever of one hundred and two. That"s a silly way to talk!"

"I know they do. At school in France the boys told me you can"t live with forty-four degrees. I"ve got a hundred and two."

He had been waiting to die all day, ever since nine o"clock in the morning.

"You poor Schatz," I said. "Poor old Schatz, it"s like miles and kilometers. You aren"t going to die. That"s a diflerent thermometer. On that thermometer thirty-seven is normal. On this kind it"s ninety-eight."

"Absolutely," I said. "It"s like miles and kilometers. You know, like how many kilometers we make when we do seventy miles in the car?"

But his gaze at the foot of the bed relaxed slowly. The hold over himself relaxed too, finally, and the next day it was very slack and he cried very easily at little things that were of no importance.

VOCABULARY NOTES

1. to shiver υi дрожать, as shiver with cold

Syn. to tremble, to shudder, to start; to tremble is the most general word; shuddering/starting is generally the result of (great) fear or disgust, е.g. He seemed perfectly calm, only a slight trembling of his voice and hands showed he was excited. Keith shuddered at the sight of the dead body. The child was shivering with cold. She started when they came in.

2. ache n (a continuous, not sharp or sudden, pain). Usually used in compounds: headache, toothache, stomachache, earache, backache , е.g. I had a bad headache yesterday. Some people have (a) bad earache when the plane is losing height. But: to have a sore throat, eye, finger , etc., е.g. I can"t speak loude?, I have a sore throat.

Syn. pain n to feel (have) a bad (sharp, slight) pain in ..., е.g. I feel a sharp pain in my right knee. My leg gives me much pain.; painful adj болезненный, тяжелый

Ant. painless , е.g. It was a painful (painless) operation.

to ache υ i/t болеть (чувствовать боль) - to be in continuous pain, e, g. My ear aches. After climbing the mountain he ached all over.

Cf .: hurt υt/i причинять боль, е.g. It hurts the eyes to look at the sun. My foot hurts (me) when I walk.

3. medicine n 1. лекарство, е.g. What medicine (s) do you take for your headaches? 2. медицина, e.g. He is fond of medicine, he wants to become a surgeon.

medical adj, е.g. He studies at a Medical Institute. He is a medical student. My medical knowledge leaves much to be desired. You"d better consult your surgeon.

4. condition n 1. состояние; to be in (a) good (bad) condition , е.g. After the thunderstorm our garden was in a terrible condition, quite a number of trees were broken. Every parcel arrived in good condition (nothing was broken or spoiled).; to be in no condition to do smth ., е.g. He is in no condition to travel. The ship was in no condition to leave harbour, He can sing very well, but tonight he is in no condition to do it, he has a sore throat.

2. условие; under good (bad) condition(s) , е.g. The unemployed live under very hard conditions.; on condition that = if , е.g. I will do it on condition that you give me the time I need.; conditional adj, е.g. Conditional sentences contain "if or its synonyms.

5. foot n (pl feet) 1. нога (ниже щиколотки, ступня), е.g. The boyjumped to his feet. A dog"s feet are called paws.; 2. фут (около) 30,5 см, pl часто без изменений, е.g. The boy was too tall for his age and he was three foot two in his shoes.; 3. подножие, нижняя часть, основание, as the foot of the mountain, at the foot of the page, the foot of the bed, е.g. This boy is at the foot of his class.

Ant. top, head , as the top of the mountain, the top (head) of the page, at the head of the bed, etc. е.g. This boy is at the head of his class.

on foot (= walking, not riding), е.g. When people are having their walking holiday they cover long distances on foot. (Cf .: by train, by bus, etc.)

footnote n сноска

6. prescribe υi прописывать лекарство, е.g. Doctor, will you prescribe a tonic for me? What can you prescribe for my headache (cold, etc.) ?

prescription n рецепт; to make up a prescription for smb., е.g. Please call in at the chemist"s and have this prescription made up for me; to write out a prescription.

7. bare adj 1. обнаженный, голый, непокрытый (usu. about some part of our body), е.g. His head was bare.

Syn. naked (= having no clothes on), е.g. Victorine was shocked when she learned that she would have to sit for the painter quite naked.

barefoot adj predic, adv = with bare feet, without shoes and stockings, е.g. Children like to go (run, walk) barefoot.

barefooted adj, attr. Barefooted people were standing on the bank.

bare-legged (-armed) adj = with bare legs (arms), е.g. When we speak of bare-legged children we mean children wearing shoes, but no stockings; bare-footed children wear neither shoes nor stockings.

bare-beaded , adj = without a hat, е.g. It"s already too cold to go bare-headed.

2. пустой, голый, лишенный чего-л., as a bare room (with little or no furniture), bare walls (without pictures or wallpaper), bare trees (without leaves), bare facts (only facts; nothing but facts).

Cf .: a bare room (no furniture), an empty room (no people), a vacant room (a room in which either no one is living at present or no one is working; a room which can be occupied), е.g. After the piano was taken out, the room seemed quite bare. I thought I heard voices in the next room, but it was empty. "Won"t you look for a vacant room in which we could have a consultation?" - "I"m told that all the rooms are occupied."

8. refuse υt/i отказывать(ся), е.g. She refused my offer. She can"t refuse her children anything. He refused to do what I asked him.

N о t e: In the meaning of sacrificing smth., parting with smth., the English verb to give up is used, е.g. He gave up the idea of going there. Roger promised to give up smoking, but he didn"t keep his promise.

refusal n , е.g. He answered her invitation, with a cold refusal,

9. like adj похожий, подобный, е.g. They are as like as two peas. What is he like? (= What sort of person is he?) What does he look like? (= What kind of appearance has he got?) How does she look today? (= What is her appearrance today?) It looks like gold. (= It has the appearance of gold.) It looks like rain. It was just like him to take the biggest piece of cake. There is nothing like home.

like prep or adv подобно, как, е.g. I can"t do it like you. They are behaving like little children, I"ve never heard him sing like that.

Note: to act like means to do smth. in the same way or in the manner of other people, е.g. She can play like a real pianist.; to act as means acting in the capacity of smb., e g. Some of our students act as guides during summer.

alike adj predic одинаковый, похожий, подобный, е.g. The houses in this street are alike. (Cf.: The houses in this street are like those in the next street.)

likeness n сходство, е.g. I cannot see much likeness between the twins.

unlike adj непохожий, е.g. She was unlike all other girls.

unlike prep в отличие от, е.g. Unlike other girls she was not at all talkative.

Мы еще лежали в постели, когда он вошел в комнату затворить окна, и я сразу увидел, что ему нездоровится. Его трясло, лицо у него было бледное, и шел он медленно, как будто каждое движение причиняло ему боль.

Что с тобой, Малыш?

У меня голова болит.

Поди ляг в постель.

Нет, я здоров.

Ляг в постель. Я оденусь и приду к тебе.

Но когда я сошел вниз, мой девятилетний мальчуган, уже одевшись, сидел у камина - совсем больной и жалкий. Я приложил ладонь ему ко лбу и почувствовал, что у него жар.

Ложись в постель, - сказал я, - ты болен.

Я здоров, - сказал он.

Пришел доктор и смерил мальчику температуру.

Сколько? - спросил я.

Сто два.

Внизу доктор дал мне три разных лекарства в облатках разных цветов и сказал, как принимать их. Одно было жаропонижающее, другое слабительное, третье против кислотности. Бациллы инфлуэнцы могут существовать только в кислой среде, пояснил доктор. По-видимому, в его практике инфлуэнца была делом самым обычным, и он сказал, что беспокоиться нечего, лишь бы температура не поднялась выше ста четырех. Эпидемия сейчас не сильная, ничего серьезного нет, надо только уберечь мальчика от воспаления легких.

Вернувшись в детскую, я записал температуру и часы, когда какую облатку принимать.

Хорошо. Если хочешь, - сказал мальчик. Лицо у него было очень бледное, под глазами темные круги. Он лежал неподвижно и был безучастен ко всему, что делалось вокруг него.

Как ты себя чувствуешь, Малыш? - спросил я.

Пока все так же, - сказал он.

Почему ты не попробуешь заснуть? Я разбужу тебя, когда надо будет принять лекарство.

Нет, я лучше так полежу.

Через несколько минут он сказал мне:

Папа, если тебе неприятно, ты лучше уйди.

Откуда ты взял, что мне неприятно?

Ну, если потом будет неприятно, так ты уйди отсюда.

Я решил, что у него начинается легкий бред, и, дав ему в одиннадцать часов лекарство, вышел из комнаты.

День стоял ясный, холодный; талый снег, выпавший накануне, успел подмерзнуть за ночь, и теперь голые деревья, кусты, валежник, трава и плеши голой земли были подернуты ледяной корочкой, точно тонким слоем лака. Я взял с собой молодого ирландского сеттера и пошел прогуляться по дороге и вдоль замерзшей речки, но на гладкой, как стекло, земле не то что ходить, а и стоять было трудно; мой рыжий пес скользил, лапы у него разъезжались, и я сам растянулся два раза, да еще уронил ружье, и оно отлетело по льду в сторону.

Из-под высокого глинистого берега с нависшими над речкой кустами мы спугнули стаю куропаток, и я подстрелил двух в ту минуту, когда они скрывались из виду за береговым откосом. Часть стаи опустилась на деревья, но большинство куропаток попряталось, и, для того чтобы снова поднять их, мне пришлось несколько раз подпрыгнуть на кучах обледенелого валежника. Стоя на скользких, пружинивших сучьях, стрелять по взлетавшим куропаткам было трудно, и я убил двух, по пятерым промазал и отправился в обратный путь, довольный, что набрел на стаю около самого дома, радуясь, что куропаток хватит и на следующую охоту.

Дома мне сказали, что мальчик никому не позволяет входить в детскую.

Не входите, - говорил он. - Я не хочу, чтобы вы заразились.

Я вошел к нему и увидел, что он лежит все в том же положении, такой же бледный, только скулы порозовели от жара, и по-прежнему, не отрываясь, молча смотрит на спинку кровати.

Я смерил ему температуру.

Сколько?

Около ста градусов, - ответил я. Термометр показывал сто два и четыре десятых.

Раньше было сто два? - спросил он.

Кто это тебе сказал?

Температура у тебя не высокая, - сказал я. - Беспокоиться нечего.

Я не беспокоюсь, - сказал он, - только не могу перестать думать.

А ты не думай, - сказал я. - Не надо волноваться.

Я не волнуюсь, - сказал он, глядя прямо перед собой. Видно было, что он напрягает все силы, чтобы сосредоточиться на какой-то мысли.

Прими лекарство и запей водой.

Ты думаешь, это поможет?

Конечно, поможет.

Я сел около кровати, открыл книгу про пиратов и начал читать, но увидел, что он не слушает меня, и остановился.

Как по-твоему, через сколько часов я умру? - спросил он.

Сколько мне еще осталось жить?

Ты не умрешь. Что за глупости!

Нет, я умру. Я слышал, как он сказал сто два градуса.

Никто не умирает от температуры в сто два градуса. Что ты выдумываешь?

Нет, умирают, я знаю. Во Франции мальчики в школе говорили, когда температура сорок четыре градуса, человек умирает. А у меня сто два.

Он ждал смерти весь день; ждал ее с девяти часов утра.

Бедный Малыш, - сказал я. - Бедный мой Малыш. Это все равно как мили и километры. Ты не умрешь. Это просто другой термометр. На том термометре нормальная температура тридцать семь градусов. На этом девяносто восемь.

Ты это наверное знаешь?

Ну конечно, - сказал я. - Это все равно как мили и километры. Помнишь? Если машина прошла семьдесят миль, сколько это километров?

А, - сказал он.

Но пристальность его взгляда, устремленного на спинку кровати, долго не ослабевала. Напряжение, в котором он держал себя, тоже спало не сразу, зато на следующий день он совсем раскис и то и дело принимался плакать из-за всякого пустяка.

Эрнест Хемингуэй. Ожидание. 1933 г.