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I sat down and opened the Pirate book and commenced to read, but I could see he was not following, so I stopped.
我坐下来，打开了《海盗故事》，开始读给他听，但我看得出来他不在听，于是我停了下来。
“About what time do you think I'm going to die?” he asked.
“你看我大概什么时候会死？”他问道。
“What?”
“什么？”
“About how long will it be before I die?”
“到我死大概还有多少时间？”
“You aren't going die. What's the matter with you?”
“你不会死。你怎么啦？”
“Oh, yes, I am, I heard him say a hundred and two.”
“啊，不，我会死的。我听到他说102度。”
“People don't die with a fever of one hundred and two. That's a silly way to talk.”
“人发烧发到102度是不会死的。你这是说傻话。”
“I know they do. At school in France the boys told me you can't live with forty-four degrees. I've got a hundred and two.”
“我知道会的。在法国上学的时候，同学告诉我说，烧发到44度就不能活了。我已经102度了。”
He had been waiting to die all day, ever since nine o'clock in the morning.
原来自上午9点起，整整一天他都在等死。
“You poor Schatz,” I said. “Poor old Schatz. It's like miles and kilometers. You aren't going to die. That's different thermometer. On that thermometer thirty-seven is normal. On this kind it's ninety-eight.”
“你这可怜的宝贝，”我说，“哦，可怜的宝贝，这就像英里和公里。你不会死的。那种温度计不一样。用那种温度计量，37度是正常的体温。用这种温度计量，正常体温是98度。”
“Are you sure?”
“你肯定？”
“Absolutely,” I said, “It's like miles and kilometers. You know, like how many kilometers we make when we do seventy miles in the car?”
“绝对没错，”我说。“这跟英里和公里的区别一样。你知道，就好像我们车速开到70英里该折合成多少公里一样。”
“Oh,” he said.
“啊，”他说。
But his gaze at the foot of the bed relaxed slowly. The hold over himself relaxed too, finally, and the next day it was very slack and he cried very easily at little things that were of no importance.
他那凝视着床的脚端的目光松弛了。他的紧张状态也终于缓和了。第二天，越发轻松了。为了一点无关紧要的小事，他会动辄哭起来。
