‘Now where do you go?’ Pat thought. He had worked in the other studios but they were not his. At this studio he never felt unemployed1 — in recent times of stress he had eaten property food on its stages — half a cold lobster2 during a scene from The Divine Miss Carstairs; he had often slept on the sets and last winter made use of a Chesterfield overcoat from the costume department. Orson Welles had no business edging him out of this. Orson Welles belonged with the rest of the snobs3 back in New York.
On the third day he was frantic4 with gloom. He had sent note after note to Jack5 Berners and even asked Louie to intercede6 — now word came that Jack had left town. There were so few friends left. Desolate7, he stood in front of the automobile8 gate with a crowd of staring children, feeling that he had reached the end at last.
A great limousine9 rolled out, in the back of which Pat recognized the great overstuffed Roman face of Harold Marcus. The car rolled toward the children and, as one of them ran in front of it, slowed down. The old man spoke10 into the tube and the car halted. He leaned out blinking.
‘Is there no policeman here?’ he asked of Pat.
‘No, Mr Marcus,’ said Pat quickly. ‘There should be. I’m Pat Hobby, the writer — could you give me a lift down the street?’
It was unprecedented11 — it was an act of desperation but Pat’s need was great.
Mr Marcus looked at him closely.
‘Oh yes, I remember you,’ he said. ‘Get in.’
He might possibly have meant get up in front with the chauffeur12. Pat compromised by opening one of the little seats. Mr Marcus was one of the most powerful men in the whole picture world. He did not occupy himself with production any longer. He spent most of his time rocking from coast to coast on fast trains, merging13 and launching, launching and merging, like a much divorced woman.
‘Some day those children’ll get hurt.’
‘Yes, Mr Marcus,’ agreed Pat heartily14, ‘Mr Marcus —’
‘They ought to have a policeman there.’
‘Yes. Mr Marcus. Mr Marcus —’
‘Hm-m-m!’ said Mr Marcus. ‘Where do you want to be dropped?’
Pat geared himself to work fast.
‘Mr Marcus, when I was your press agent —’
‘I know,’ said Mr Marcus. ‘You wanted a ten dollar a week raise.’
‘What a memory!’ cried Pat in gladness. ‘What a memory! But Mr Marcus, now I don’t want anything at all.’
‘This is a miracle.’
‘I’ve got modest wants, see, and I’ve saved enough to retire.’
He thrust his shoes slightly forward under a hanging blanket, The Chesterfield coat effectively concealed15 the rest.
‘That’s what I’d like,’ said Mr Marcus gloomily. ‘A farm — with chickens. Maybe a little nine-hole course. Not even a stock ticker.’
‘I want to retire, but different,’ said Pat earnestly. ‘Pictures have been my life. I want to watch them grow and grow —’
Mr Marcus groaned16.
‘Till they explode,’ he said. ‘Look at Fox! I cried for him.’ He pointed17 to his eyes, ‘Tears!’
Pat nodded very sympathetically.
‘I want only one thing.’ From the long familiarity he went into the foreign locution. ‘I should go on the lot anytime. From nothing. Only to be there. Should bother nobody. Only help a little from nothing if any young person wants advice.’
‘See Berners,’ said Marcus.
‘He said see you.’
‘Then you did want something,’ Marcus smiled. ‘All right, all right by me. Where do you get off now?’
‘Could you write me a pass?’ Pat pleaded. ‘Just a word on your card?’
‘I’ll look into it,’ said Mr Marcus. ‘Just now I’ve got things on my mind. I’m going to a luncheon18.’ He sighed profoundly. ‘They want I should meet this new Orson Welles that’s in Hollywood.’
Pat’s heart winced19. There it was again — that name, sinister20 and remorseless, spreading like a dark cloud over all his skies.
‘Mr Marcus,’ he said so sincerely that his voice trembled, ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if Orson Welles is the biggest menace that’s come to Hollywood for years. He gets a hundred and fifty grand a picture and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was so radical21 that you had to have all new equipment and start all over again like you did with sound in 1928.’
‘Oh my God!’ groaned Mr Marcus.
‘And me,’ said Pat, ‘all I want is a pass and no money — to leave things as they are.’
Mr Marcus reached for his card case.
点击收听单词发音
1 unemployed | |
adj.失业的,没有工作的;未动用的,闲置的 | |
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2 lobster | |
n.龙虾,龙虾肉 | |
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3 snobs | |
(谄上傲下的)势利小人( snob的名词复数 ); 自高自大者,自命不凡者 | |
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4 frantic | |
adj.狂乱的,错乱的,激昂的 | |
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5 jack | |
n.插座,千斤顶,男人;v.抬起,提醒,扛举;n.(Jake)杰克 | |
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6 intercede | |
vi.仲裁,说情 | |
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7 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
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8 automobile | |
n.汽车,机动车 | |
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9 limousine | |
n.豪华轿车 | |
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10 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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11 unprecedented | |
adj.无前例的,新奇的 | |
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12 chauffeur | |
n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机;v.为…开车 | |
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13 merging | |
合并(分类) | |
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14 heartily | |
adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
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15 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
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16 groaned | |
v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
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17 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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18 luncheon | |
n.午宴,午餐,便宴 | |
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19 winced | |
赶紧避开,畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20 sinister | |
adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
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21 radical | |
n.激进份子,原子团,根号;adj.根本的,激进的,彻底的 | |
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