Don't you worry about me.

Со мной все в порядке.

But never any nice girls.

Но милых и славных девушек я не трогаю.

I know what kind of girls to prod and what kind of girls not to prod, and I never prod any nice girls.

Я знаю, с кем что можно, а с кем - нельзя.

This one was a sweet kid.

А эта - очень милый ребенок.

You could see her family had money.

Она из богатого семейства.

Why, I even got her to throw that ring of hers away right out the car window.'

Да, между прочим, я заставил ее снять перстень и выкинуть его из окна машины.

Hungry Joe flew into the air with a screech of intolerable pain.

Заморыш Джо взвился, как от приступа невыносимой боли.

' You did what?' he screamed. 'You did what?'

- Что ты сделал! - завизжал он.

He began whaling away at Aarfy's shoulders and arms with both fists, almost in tears.

Чуть не плача, он набросился с кулаками на Аарфи.

'I ought to kill you for what you did, you lousy bastard.

- За это тебя убить мало, тварь паршивая!

He's sinful, that's what he is.

Грязный греховодник!

He's got a dirty mind, ain't he?

У него грязные мысли, ведь верно?

Ain't he got a dirty mind?'

Ведь верно - у него грязные мысли?

' The dirtiest,' Yossarian agreed.

- Грязнее не бывает, - согласился Йоссариан.

'What are you fellows talking about?' Aarfy asked with genuine puzzlement, tucking his face away protectively inside the cushioning insulation of his oval shoulders.

- Слушайте, ребята, о чем вы говорите? - спросил с неподдельным изумлением Аарфи, втягивая голову в свои пухлые, как подушки, округлые плечи.

'Aw, come on, Joe,' he pleaded with a smile of mild discomfort. 'Quit punching me, will you?'

- Эй, послушай, Джо, - попросил он с мягкой неловкой улыбкой, - перестань меня колотить.

But Hungry Joe would not quit punching until Yossarian picked him up and pushed him away toward his bedroom.

Но Заморыш Джо не переставал его колотить до тех пор, пока Йоссариан не вытолкал Заморыша в спальню.

Yossarian moved listlessly into his own room, undressed and went to sleep.

Потом и сам Йоссариан понуро поплелся к себе, разделся и лег спать.

A second later it was morning, and someone was shaking him.

Утром кто-то начал тормошить Йоссариана.

'What are you waking me up for?' he whimpered.

- Зачем вы меня будите? - пробормотал он.

It was Michaela, the skinny maid with the merry disposition and homely sallow face, and she was waking him up because he had a visitor waiting just outside the door. Luciana!

Это была Микаэла, добродушная, жилистая горничная с приветливым желтоватым лицом. Она разбудила его, чтобы сказать, что там за дверью его дожидается гостья, по имени Лючана.

He could hardly believe it.

Йоссариан не поверил своим ушам.

And she was alone in the room with him after Michaela had departed, lovely, hale and statuesque, steaming and rippling with an irrepressible affectionate vitality even as she remained in one place and frowned at him irately. She stood like a youthful female colossus with her magnificent columnar legs apart on high white shoes with wedged heels, wearing a pretty green dress and swinging a large, flat white leather pocketbook, with which she cracked him hard across the face when he leaped out of bed to grab her. Yossarian staggered backward out of range in a daze, clutching his stinging cheek with bewilderment. 'Pig!' She spat out at him viciously, her nostrils flaring in a look of savage disdain. 'Vive com' un animale!' With a fierce, guttural, scornful, disgusted oath, she strode across the room and threw open the three tall casement windows, letting inside an effulgent flood of sunlight and crisp fresh air that washed through the stuffy room like an invigorating tonic. She placed her pocketbook on a chair and began tidying the room, picking his things up from the floor and off the tops of the furniture, throwing his socks, handkerchief and underwear into an empty drawer of the dresser and hanging his shirt and trousers up in the closet. Yossarian ran out of the bedroom into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He washed his hands and face and combed his hair. When he ran back, the room was in order and Luciana was almost undressed. Her expression was relaxed. She left her earrings on the dresser and padded barefoot to the bed wearing just a pink rayon chemise that came down to her hips. She glanced about the room prudently to make certain there was nothing she had overlooked in the way of neatness and then drew back the coverlet and stretched herself out luxuriously with an expression of feline expectation. She beckoned to him longingly, with a husky laugh. 'Now,' she announced in a whisper, holding both arms out to him eagerly. 'Now I will let you sleep with me.' She told him some lies about a single weekend in bed with a slaughtered fiancé in the Italian Army, and they all turned out to be true, for she cried, 'finito!' almost as soon as he started and wondered why he didn't stop, until he had finitoed too and explained to her. He lit cigarettes for both of them. She was enchanted by the deep suntan covering his whole body.

Лючана вошла...

He wondered about the pink chemise that she would not remove. It was cut like a man's undershirt, with narrow shoulder straps, and concealed the invisible scar on her back that she refused to let him see after he had made her tell him it was there.

Его заинтересовало, почему она отказывается снять розовую сорочку, скроенную наподобие мужской майки с узенькими лямками на плечах. Он заставил ее признаться, что сорочка скрывает шрам на спине.

She grew tense as fine steel when he traced the mutilated contours with his fingertip from a pit in her shoulder blade almost to the base of her spine.

Она долго отказывалась показать шрам и напряглась, как стальная пружина, когда он кончиком пальца провел по длинному изломанному рубцу от лопатки до поясницы.

He winced at the many tortured nights she had spent in the hospital, drugged or in pain, with the ubiquitous, ineradicable odors of ether, fecal matter and disinfectant, of human flesh mortified and decaying amid the white uniforms, the rubbersoled shoes, and the eerie night lights glowing dimly until dawn in the corridors.

Он вздрогнул, представив себе госпиталь ночью, когда в коридорах призрачно мерцают редкие лампочки и дежурные врачи бесшумно ступают на мягких подошвах. Сколько кошмарных ночей провела Лючана под наркозом или извиваясь от боли в госпитальной палате, где все навечно пропахло эфиром, испарениями, дезинфекцией и человеческим мясом, гниющим под наблюдением людей в белых халатах.

She had been wounded in an air raid.

Лючана была ранена во время воздушного налета.

'Dove?' he asked, and he held his breath in suspense. ' Napoli.'

- Где? - спросил он и, затаив дыхание, ожидал ответа. - В Неаполе.