《股票作手回忆录·第十二章·棉花惨败·被专家说服》第5节
I turned and saw an utter stranger--a chap of about thirty-five. I could not understand how he’d got in, but there he was. I concluded his business with me had passed him. But I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him and pretty soon he said, “I came to see you about that Walter Scott,” and he was off. He was a book agent. Now, he was not particularly pleasing of manner or skillful of speech. Neither was he especially attractive to look at. But he certainly had personality. He talked and I thought I listened. But I do not know what he said. I don’t think I ever knew, not even at the time. When he finished his monologue he handed me first his fountain pen and then a blank form, which I signed. It was a contract to take a set of Scott’s works for five hundred dollars. The moment I signed I came to. But he had the contract safe in his pocket. I did not want the books. I had no place for them. They weren’t of any use whatever to me. I had nobody to give them to. Yet I had agreed to buy them for five hundred dollars.
注释摘要
这段故事发生在华尔街的一间私人办公室，而进入这间办公室的难度，在当时的金融文化里本身就是身份与权力的象征。1900年代的华尔街，顶尖作手像杰西·利弗莫尔——或者说书中化名的拉里·利文斯顿——已经不再像散户那样挤在营业大厅盯着黑板或纸带机。纸带机是那个年代市场的神经末梢，通过电报线路把价格打印在窄窄的纸带上，沙沙地吐出数字。像利文斯顿这样的大户，有自己安静的…