这件裙子

半夜

Midnight

“你好，马尔科。”

“Hello, Marco.”

马尔科： 一个小时，汤姆。卖还是不卖？两百五十万。你明天晚上就可以到伦敦。

Marco: One hour, Tom. Yes or no? Two and a half million. You can be in London tomorrow evening.

我看着湖水。看着小镇的灯光。看着露台上的柠檬树。

I look at the lake. At the little lights of the towns. At the lemon trees on the terrace.

“不卖。”

“No.”

马尔科： 不卖？你在犯一个大错。我不需要你的签字，汤姆。我有别的办法。晚安。

Marco: No? You are making a big mistake. I don’t need your signature, Tom. There are other ways. Good night.

他挂断了电话。我在那里站了一分钟。我的手很冷。然后我听见身后的大厅里有声音。

He ends the call. I stand there for a minute. My hands are cold. Then I hear something behind me, in the hall.

埃莱娜坐在楼梯上。没穿鞋。她都听见了。

Elena is sitting on the stairs. Without shoes. She heard everything.

埃莱娜： 你拒绝了。

Elena: You said no.

“我拒绝了。”

“I said no.”

她没再说话。但是当她上楼的时候，我觉得她在笑。

She doesn’t say anything more. But when she goes upstairs, I think she is smiling.

星期一早上，她的门开着。棕色手提箱放在床上，埃莱娜把衬衫一件一件挂回衣柜里。

On Monday morning, her door is open. The brown suitcase lies on the bed, and Elena is putting her blouses back in the wardrobe. One by one.

埃莱娜： 别这样看我。我留下来只是为了酒店。

Elena: Don’t look at me like that. I’m only staying for the hotel.

“当然。只是为了酒店。”

“Of course. Only for the hotel.”