О мышах и людях

           GeorgegotupandwentovertoLennie’sbunkandsatdownonit.«Ihatethatkindabastard,"hesaid.«Iseenplentyof‘em.Liketheoldguysays,Curleydon’ttakenochances.Healwayswins.»Hethoughtforamoment.«Ifhetangleswithyou,Lennie,we’regonnagetthecan.Don’tmakenomistakeaboutthat.He’stheboss’sson.Look,Lennie.Youtrytokeepawayfromhim,willyou?Don’tneverspeaktohim.Ifhecomesinhereyoumovecleartotheothersideoftheroom.Willyoudothat,Lennie?»

           «Idon’twantnotrouble,"Lenniemourned.«Ineverdonenothingtohim.»

           «Well,thatwon’tdoyounogoodifCurleywantstoplughimselfupforafighter.Justdon’thavenothingtodowithhim.Willyouremember?»

           «Sure,George.Iain’tgonnasayaword.»

           Thesoundoftheapproachinggrainteamswaslouder,thudofbighoovesonhardground,dragofbrakesandthejingleoftracechains.Menwerecallingbackandforthfromtheteams.George,sittingonthebunkbesideLennie,frownedashethought.Lennieaskedtimidly,«Youain’tmad,George?»

           «Iain’tmadatyou.I’mmadatthishereCurleybastard.Ihopedwewasgonnagetalittlestaketogether—maybeahundreddollars.»Histonegrewdecisive.«YoukeepawayfromCurley,Lennie.»

           «SureIwill,George.Iwon’tsayaword.»

           «Don’tlethimpullyouin—but—iftheson-of-a-bitchsocksyou—let‘imhaveit.»

           «Let‘imhavewhat,George?»