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- Джером Дэвид Сэлинджер
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"
Do
n't
you
feel
like
talking
for
a
while
?
"
I
asked
her
.
It
was
a
childish
thing
to
say
,
but
I
was
feeling
so
damn
peculiar
.
"
Are
you
in
a
very
big
hurry
?
"
She
looked
at
me
like
I
was
a
madman
.
"
What
the
heck
ya
wan
na
talk
about
?
"
she
said
.
"
I
do
n't
know
.
Nothing
special
.
I
just
thought
perhaps
you
might
care
to
chat
for
a
while
.
"
She
sat
down
in
the
chair
next
to
the
desk
again
.
She
did
n't
like
it
,
though
,
you
could
tell
.
She
started
jiggling
her
foot
again
--
boy
,
she
was
a
nervous
girl
.
"
Would
you
care
for
a
cigarette
now
?
"
I
said
.
I
forgot
she
did
n't
smoke
.
"
I
do
n't
smoke
.
Listen
,
if
you
're
gon
na
talk
,
do
it
.
I
got
things
to
do
.
"
I
could
n't
think
of
anything
to
talk
about
,
though
.
I
thought
of
asking
her
how
she
got
to
be
a
prostitute
and
all
,
but
I
was
scared
to
ask
her
.
She
probably
would
n't
've
told
me
anyway
.
"
You
do
n't
come
from
New
York
,
do
you
?
"
I
said
finally
.
That
's
all
I
could
think
of
.
"
Hollywood
,
"
she
said
.
Then
she
got
up
and
went
over
to
where
she
'd
put
her
dress
down
,
on
the
bed
.
"
Ya
got
a
hanger
?
I
do
n't
want
to
get
my
dress
all
wrinkly
.
It
's
brand-clean
.
"
"
Sure
,
"
I
said
right
away
.
I
was
only
too
glad
to
get
up
and
do
something
.
I
took
her
dress
over
to
the
closet
and
hung
it
up
for
her
.
It
was
funny
.
It
made
me
feel
sort
of
sad
when
I
hung
it
up
.
I
thought
of
her
going
in
a
store
and
buying
it
,
and
nobody
in
the
store
knowing
she
was
a
prostitute
and
all
.
The
salesman
probably
just
thought
she
was
a
regular
girl
when
she
bought
it
.
It
made
me
feel
sad
as
hell
--
I
do
n't
know
why
exactly
.
