| Yossarian was not often lonely when he was by himself, but he was lonely now in his keen envy of Aarfy, who he knew was in bed that very moment with the girl who was just right for Yossarian, and who could also make out any time he wanted to, if he ever wanted to, with either or both of the two slender, stunning, aristocratic women who lived in the apartment upstairs and fructified Yossarian's sex fantasies whenever he had sex fantasies, the beautiful rich black-haired countess with the red, wet, nervous lips and her beautiful rich black-haired daughter-in-law. Yossarian was madly in love with all of them as he made his way back to the officers' apartment, in love with Luciana, with the prurient intoxicated girl in the unbuttoned satin blouse, and with the beautiful rich countess and her beautiful rich daughter-in-law, both of whom would never let him touch them or even flirt with them. They doted kittenishly on Nately and deferred passively to Aarfy, but they thought Yossarian was crazy and recoiled from him with distasteful contempt each time he made an indecent proposal or tried to fondle them when they passed on the stairs. | Йоссариан редко скучал, когда бывал в отпуске, но теперь ему было грустно. Он остро завидовал Аарфи: тот сейчас наверняка развлекается где-нибудь со своей кошечкой. Он брел по улице, возвращаясь в офицерскую квартиру, и чувствовал себя по уши влюбленным и в Лючану, и в блондинку в оранжевой блузке, и в красивую богатую графиню и ее красивую богатую невестку, которые жили этажом выше, хотя уж они-то никогда не позволили бы ему дотронуться до себя или хотя бы пофлиртовать с ними. |
| They were both superb creatures with pulpy, bright, pointed tongues and mouths like round warm plums, a little sweet and sticky, a little rotten. They had class; Yossarian was not sure what class was, but he knew that they had it and he did not, and that they knew it, too. He could picture, as he walked, the kind of underclothing they wore against their svelte feminine parts, filmy, smooth, clinging garments of deepest black or of opalescent pastel radiance with flowering lace borders fragrant with the tantalizing fumes of pampered flesh and scented bath salts rising in a germinating cloud from their blue-white breasts. | Они были людьми экстра-класса: Йоссариан не знал точно, что такое экстра-класс, но он знал, что графиня и ее невестка относятся к этой категории, а он - нет, и ему было известно, что они об этом догадываются. |
| He wished again that he was where Aarfy was, making obscene, brutal, cheerful love with a juicy drunken tart who didn't give a tinker's dam about him and would never think of him again. | Ему опять захотелось оказаться на месте Аарфи и чтобы рядом была та блондинка. А ведь он знал, что в ее глазах он и ломаного гроша не стоит. Она о нем наверняка даже не вспомнит. |
| But Aarfy was already back in the apartment when Yossarian arrived, and Yossarian gaped at him with that same sense of persecuted astonishment he had suffered that same morning over Bologna at his malign and cabalistic and irremovable presence in the nose of the plane. | Однако, когда Йоссариан вернулся в квартиру, Аарфи был уже там. Йоссариан уставился на него так же пристально и удивленно, как утром над Болоньей, когда Аарфи торчал в носовой части самолета - зловещий, таинственный и неистребимый. |
| 'What are you doing here?' he asked. | - Что ты здесь делаешь? - спросил Йоссариан. |
| 'That's right, ask him!' Hungry Joe exclaimed in a rage. | - Вот-вот, спроси его! - воскликнул разъяренный Заморыш Джо. |
| ' Make him tell you what he's doing here!' | - Пусть он расскажет, что он здесь делает. |
