" Hassan" ! I called. " Come back with it" !

" 哈桑" ！我大喊，" 把它带回来" ！

" You exaggerate, Hassan, " I said, loving him for it.

" 你太夸张了，哈桑。" 我说，不过很高兴他这么认为。

" Tell me, Hassan, " I said. I smiled, though suddenly the insecure writer in me wasn't so sure he wanted to hear it.

" 告诉我，哈桑。" 我说。我脸带微笑，虽然刹那间我这个作家心中惴惴，不知道是否想听下去。

One day, in July 1973, I played another little trick on Hassan. I was reading to him, and suddenly I strayed from the written story.

1973年7月某天，我开了哈桑另外一个玩笑。 我念书给他听，接着突然不管那个写好的故事。