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Dexter wasn't the man's assignment (Декстер не был заданием этого человека), but Martins couldn't help feeling a certain pride (но Мартинс не мог отделаться от чувства некоторой гордости: «но Мартинс не мог помочь чувствовать некоторую гордость»)—nobody had ever before referred to him as a novelist (никто когда-либо раньше не обращался к нему как к романисту); and that sense of pride and importance (и это чувство гордости и важности) carried him over the disappointment (перенесло его через разочарование = смягчило разочарование) when Lime was not there to meet him at the airport (когда Лайм не был там, чтобы встретить его в аэропорте = оказалось, не встречал его). We never get accustomed to (мы никогда не привыкаем: «не становимся привыкшими») being less important to other people than they are to us (быть менее важными другим людям, чем они нам)—Martins felt the little jab of dispensability standing by the bus door (Мартинс почувствовал маленький укол /своей/ ненужности, стоя у автобусной двери; to feel — чувствовать; to dispense — раздавать, делить, распределять; освобождать (от обязательства/; to dispense with — обходиться без чего-л.; dispensable — необязательный; несущественный), watching the snow come sifting down (глядя, как сыплется вниз снег), so thinly and softly (так тонко и мягко) that the great drifts among the ruined buildings (что огромные сугробы между разрушенными зданиями) had an air of permanence (имели вид постоянства), as though they were not the result of this meagre fall (как если бы они были не результатом этого скудного снегопада), but lay, forever (но лежали, всегда), above the line of perpetual snow (над линией вечного снега).

 

occur [q'kq:], journalist ['Gq:nqlIst], canteen [kxn'ti:n], approach [q'prquC], guard ['gRd], represent ["reprI'zent], novel ['nOv(q)l], acid ['xsId], humour ['hju:mq], protrude [prq'tru:d], assignment [q'saInmqnt], certain ['sq:t(q)n], importance [Im'pLt(q)ns], disappointment ["dIsq'poIntmqnt], accustom [q'kAstqm], dispensable [dI'spensqbl], permanence ['pq:mqnqns], result [rI'zAlt], meagre ['mi:gq], perpetual [pq'peCuql]

 

An odd incident had occurred at Frankfurt where the plane from London grounded for an hour. Martins was eating a hamburger in the American canteen (a kindly air line supplied the passengers with a voucher for 65 cents of food) when a man he could recognise from twenty feet away as a journalist approached his table.

"You Mr. Dexter?" he asked.

"Yes," Martins said, taken off his guard.

"You look younger than your photographs," the man said. "Like to make a statement? I represent the local forces paper here. We'd like to know what you think of Frankfurt."

"I only touched down ten minutes ago."

"Fair enough," the man said. "What about views on the American novel?"

"I don't read them," Martins said.

"The well known acid humour," the journalist said. He pointed at a small grey-haired man with two protruding teeth, nibbling a bit of bread. "Happen to know if that's Carey?"

"No. What Carey?"

"J. G. Carey of course."

"I've never heard of him."

"You novelists live out of the world. He's my real assignment," and Martins watched him make across the room for the great Carey, who greeted him with a false headline smile, laying down his crust. Dexter wasn't the man's assignment, but Martins couldn't help feeling a certain pride—nobody had ever before referred to him as a novelist; and that sense of pride and importance carried him over the disappointment when Lime was not there to meet him at the airport.

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