“你摸走了我的钱夹，”他说。他很得意地说“摸走”，他觉得这个字眼比“偷走”、“盗走”，甚至“掏走”，听上去更加贴切。
"I beg your pardon?" the girl says.
“你在说什么呀？”那女孩说。
"I know you did--at the magazine counter. If you'll just give it back, we can forget the whole thing. If you don't, then I'll hand you over to the police."
“我知道是你干的——在杂志柜台边。只要你还给我，事情就一笔勾销，否则就把你交给警察。”
She studies him, her face serious. "All right," she says. She pulls the black bag onto her lap, reaches into it and draws out a wallet.
她仔细打量着那人，神情非常严肃。“好吧，”她说着，将她那只黑包拉到膝盖上，手伸进去，掏出了一只皮夹。
He takes it from her. "Wait a minute," he says, "This isn't mine."
他从她手里一把拿过来。“等一下，”他说，“这不是我的。”
The girl runs, he bolts after her. It is like a scene in a movie--bystanders scattering, the girl zigzagging to avoid collisions, the sound of his own breathing reminding him how old he is--until he hears a woman's voice behind him:
那女孩撒腿就跑，他在后面穷追不舍，真像电影中的场面——周围的人纷纷避开。那女孩飞快地左拐右转，避免发生碰撞。他的喘息声使他想起了自己的年纪——后来听到一个女人的喊叫声从背后传来：
"Stop, thief! Stop that man!"
“抓、抓贼！抓住那个男人！”
Ahead of him the brunette disappears around a corner and in the same moment a young man in a marine uniform puts out a foot to trip him up. He falls hard, banging knee and elbow on the tile floor of the terminal, but manages to hang on to the wallet which is not his.
前面，黑发女人已经转过拐角，不见了踪影。与此同时，一个身穿海军陆战队制服的年轻人伸脚一绊。那人猛地跌倒，膝盖和胳膊肘都重重地砸在大厅的地板砖上，但他的手里仍紧紧地攥着那个不属于他的皮夹。
