Над пропастью во ржи

           Yououghtamakehimtrytogetoverthat."Ilookedather."Didn’thetellyouaboutit?" 

           "No,hedidn’t." 

           Inodded. "That’sErnie.Hewouldn’t.That’stheonefaultwithhim—he’stooshyandmodest.Youreallyoughtagethimtotrytorelaxoccasionally." 

           Rightthatminute,theconductorcamearoundforoldMrs.Morrow’sticket,anditgavemeachancetoquitshootingit.I’mgladIshotitforawhile,though. YoutakeaguylikeMorrowthat’salwayssnappingtheirtowelatpeople’sasses—reallytryingtohurtsomebodywithit—theydon’tjuststayaratwhilethey’reakid.Theystayarattheirwholelife. ButI’llbet,afterallthecrapIshot,Mrs.Morrow’llkeepthinkingofhimnowasthisveryshy,modestguythatwouldn’tletusnominatehimforpresident. Shemight.Youcan’ttell.Mothersaren’ttoosharpaboutthatstuff. 

           "Wouldyoucareforacocktail?"Iaskedher.Iwasfeelinginthemoodforonemyself."Wecangointheclubcar.Allright?" 

           "Dear,areyouallowedtoorderdrinks?"sheaskedme.Notsnotty,though.Shewastoocharmingandalltobesnotty. 

           "Well,no,notexactly,butIcanusuallygetthemonaccountofmyheighth,"Isaid."AndIhavequiteabitofgrayhair."Iturnedsidewaysandshowedhermygrayhair. Itfascinatedhelloutofher."C’mon,joinme,whydon’tyou?"Isaid.I’d’veenjoyedhavingher. 

           "Ireallydon’tthinkI’dbetter.Thankyousomuch,though,dear,"shesaid."Anyway,theclubcar’smostlikelyclosed.It’squitelate,youknow."