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The message light on the phone was flashing though.
不过电话的留言机倒是在闪个不停。
She hit the message button and got the hotel operator.
她按下留言键，接通了酒店的接线生。
‘You have a message from Gary Andress,’ said the operator.
“你有一条留言，来自葛瑞?安大雷司。”接线生说。
‘Yes?’ said Tricia. An unfamiliar name. ‘What does it say?’
“嗯？”崔茜卡说。陌生的名字。“上边怎么说？”
‘Not hippy,’ said the operator.
“不嬉皮。”接线生说。
‘Not what?’ said Tricia.
“不什么？”崔茜卡问。
‘Hippy. What it says. Guy says he’s not a hippy. I guess he wanted you to know that. You want the number?’
“嬉皮。留言就是这么说的。那人说他不是个嬉皮士。我猜他想让你知道。想要号码吗？”
As she started to dictate the number Tricia suddenly realised that this was just a garbled version of the message she had already had.
她开始念号码，崔茜卡突然明白过来，这不过是刚才那条留言的变身版①。
‘OK, OK,’ she said. ‘Are there any other messages for me?’
“OK，OK，”她说，“还有其他留言吗？”
‘Room number?’
“房间号多少？”
Tricia couldn’t work out why the operator should suddenly ask for her number this late in the conversation, but gave it to her anyway.
都说到这儿了才问这个，崔茜卡实在想不通这是什么道理，不过她还是说了。
‘Name?’
“名字？”
‘McMillan, Tricia McMillan.’ Tricia spelt it, patiently.
“麦克米伦，崔茜卡?麦克米伦。”崔茜卡拼给对方听，非常耐心。
‘Not Mr. MacManus?’
“不是麦克马努斯吗？”
‘No.’
“不是。”
‘No more messages for you.’ Click.
“没有你的留言。”咔嗒。
Tricia sighed and dialled again. This time she gave her name and room number all over again, up front. The operator showed not the slightest glimmer of recognition that they had been speaking less than ten seconds ago.
崔茜卡叹了口气，重新拨号。她又说了遍自己的名字和房间号，这次一上来就先说这个。尽管两人不到十秒钟之前才讲过话，但接线生丝毫没有表现出任何意识到这一问题的迹象。
‘I’m going to be in the bar,’ Tricia explained. ‘In the bar. If a phone call comes through for me, please would you put it through to me in the bar?’
“我要去酒吧，”崔茜卡解释道，“去酒吧。如果有人打电话找我，可以请你把它转到酒吧吗？”
‘Name?’
“名字？”
