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- Джером Дэвид Сэлинджер
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"
Swell
.
Well
,
listen
.
I
was
wondering
if
you
were
busy
today
.
It
's
Sunday
,
but
there
's
always
one
or
two
matinees
going
on
Sunday
.
Benefits
and
that
stuff
.
Would
you
care
to
go
?
"
"
I
'd
love
to
.
Grand
.
"
Grand
.
If
there
's
one
word
I
hate
,
it
's
grand
.
It
's
so
phony
.
For
a
second
,
I
was
tempted
to
tell
her
to
forget
about
the
matinee
.
But
we
chewed
the
fat
for
a
while
.
That
is
,
she
chewed
it
.
You
could
n't
get
a
word
in
edgewise
.
First
she
told
me
about
some
Harvard
guy
--
it
probably
was
a
freshman
,
but
she
did
n't
say
,
naturally
--
that
was
rushing
hell
out
of
her
.
Calling
her
up
night
and
day
.
Night
and
day
--
that
killed
me
.
Then
she
told
me
about
some
other
guy
,
some
West
Point
cadet
,
that
was
cutting
his
throat
over
her
too
.
Big
deal
.
I
told
her
to
meet
me
under
the
clock
at
the
Biltmore
at
two
o'clock
,
and
not
to
be
late
,
because
the
show
probably
started
at
two-thirty
.
She
was
always
late
.
Then
I
hung
up
.
She
gave
me
a
pain
in
the
ass
,
but
she
was
very
good-looking
.
After
I
made
the
date
with
old
Sally
,
I
got
out
of
bed
and
got
dressed
and
packed
my
bag
.
I
took
a
look
out
the
window
before
I
left
the
room
,
though
,
to
see
how
all
the
perverts
were
doing
,
but
they
all
had
their
shades
down
.
They
were
the
heighth
of
modesty
in
the
morning
.
Then
I
went
down
in
the
elevator
and
checked
out
.
I
did
n't
see
old
Maurice
around
anywhere
.
I
did
n't
break
my
neck
looking
for
him
,
naturally
,
the
bastard
.
I
got
a
cab
outside
the
hotel
,
but
I
did
n't
have
the
faintest
damn
idea
where
I
was
going
.
I
had
no
place
to
go
.
It
was
only
Sunday
,
and
I
could
n't
go
home
till
Wednesday
--
or
Tuesday
the
soonest
.
And
I
certainly
did
n't
feel
like
going
to
another
hotel
and
getting
my
brains
beat
out
.
So
what
I
did
,
I
told
the
driver
to
take
me
to
Grand
Central
Station
.
It
was
right
near
the
Biltmore
,
where
I
was
meeting
Sally
later
,
and
I
figured
what
I
'd
do
,
I
'd
check
my
bags
in
one
of
those
strong
boxes
that
they
give
you
a
key
to
,
then
get
some
breakfast
.
I
was
sort
of
hungry
.
While
I
was
in
the
cab
,
I
took
out
my
wallet
and
sort
of
counted
my
money
.
I
do
n't
remember
exactly
what
I
had
left
,
but
it
was
no
fortune
or
anything
.
I
'd
spent
a
king
's
ransom
in
about
two
lousy
weeks
.
I
really
had
.
I
'm
a
goddam
spendthrift
at
heart
.
What
I
do
n't
spend
,
I
lose
.
Half
the
time
I
sort
of
even
forget
to
pick
up
my
change
,
at
restaurants
and
night
clubs
and
all
.
It
drives
my
parents
crazy
.
You
ca
n't
blame
them
.
My
father
's
quite
wealthy
,
though
.
I
do
n't
know
how
much
he
makes
--
he
's
never
discussed
that
stuff
with
me
--
but
I
imagine
quite
a
lot
.
He
's
a
corporation
lawyer
.
Those
boys
really
haul
it
in
.
Another
reason
I
know
he
's
quite
well
off
,
he
's
always
investing
money
in
shows
on
Broadway
.
They
always
flop
,
though
,
and
it
drives
my
mother
crazy
when
he
does
it
.
She
has
n't
felt
too
healthy
since
my
brother
Allie
died
.
She
's
very
nervous
.
That
's
another
reason
why
I
hated
like
hell
for
her
to
know
I
got
the
ax
again
.
After
I
put
my
bags
in
one
of
those
strong
boxes
at
the
station
,
I
went
into
this
little
sandwich
bar
and
bad
breakfast
.
I
had
quite
a
large
breakfast
,
for
me
--
orange
juice
,
bacon
and
eggs
,
toast
and
coffee
.
Usually
I
just
drink
some
orange
juice
.
I
'm
a
very
light
eater
.
I
really
am
.
That
's
why
I
'm
so
damn
skinny
.
I
was
supposed
to
be
on
this
diet
where
you
eat
a
lot
of
starches
and
crap
,
to
gain
weight
and
all
,
but
I
did
n't
ever
do
it
.
When
I
'm
out
somewhere
,
I
generally
just
eat
a
Swiss
cheese
sandwich
and
a
malted
milk
.
It
is
n't
much
,
but
you
get
quite
a
lot
of
vitamins
in
the
malted
milk
.
H.
V.
Caulfield
.
Holden
Vitamin
Caulfield
.
While
I
was
eating
my
eggs
,
these
two
nuns
with
suitcases
and
all
--
I
guessed
they
were
moving
to
another
convent
or
something
and
were
waiting
for
a
train
--
came
in
and
sat
down
next
to
me
at
the
counter
.
They
did
n't
seem
to
know
what
the
hell
to
do
with
their
suitcases
,
so
I
gave
them
a
hand
.
They
were
these
very
inexpensive-looking
suitcases
--
the
ones
that
are
n't
genuine
leather
or
anything
.
It
is
n't
important
,
I
know
,
but
I
hate
it
when
somebody
has
cheap
suitcases
.
It
sounds
terrible
to
say
it
,
but
I
can
even
get
to
hate
somebody
,
just
looking
at
them
,
if
they
have
cheap
suitcases
with
them
.
Something
happened
once
.
For
a
while
when
I
was
at
Elkton
Hills
,
I
roomed
with
this
boy
,
Dick
Slagle
,
that
had
these
very
inexpensive
suitcases
.
He
used
to
keep
them
under
the
bed
,
instead
of
on
the
rack
,
so
that
nobody
'd
see
them
standing
next
to
mine
.
It
depressed
holy
hell
out
of
me
,
and
I
kept
wanting
to
throw
mine
out
or
something
,
or
even
trade
with
him
.
Mine
came
from
Mark
Cross
,
and
they
were
genuine
cowhide
and
all
that
crap
,
and
I
guess
they
cost
quite
a
pretty
penny
.
But
it
was
a
funny
thing
.
Here
's
what
happened
.
What
I
did
,
I
finally
put
my
suitcases
under
my
bed
,
instead
of
on
the
rack
,
so
that
old
Slagle
would
n't
get
a
goddam
inferiority
complex
about
it
.
But
here
's
what
he
did
.
The
day
after
I
put
mine
under
my
bed
,
he
took
them
out
and
put
them
back
on
the
rack
.
