【有声英语文学名著】英国病人 91（在线收听）

She said, “I think we should leave him be. It doesn’t matter what side he was on, does it?” Caravaggio said, “I’d like to talk with him some more. With more morphine in him. Talking it out. Both of us. Do you understand? To see where it will all go.( Delilah. Zerzura.) You will have to give him the altered shot.” “No, David. You’re too obsessed. It doesn’t matter who he is. The war’s over.” “I will then. I’ll cook up a Brompton cocktail. Morphine and alcohol. They invented it at Brompton Hospital in London for their cancer patients. Don’t worry, it won’t kill him.(It absorbs fast into the body. I can put it together with what we’ve got. Give him a drink of it. Then put him back on straight morphine.” )Hana watched him sitting on the hamper, clear-eyed, smiling. During the last stages of the war Caravaggio had become one of the numerous morphia thieves. He had sniffed out her medical supplies within hours of his arrival. The small tubes of morphine were now a source for him. (Like toothpaste tubes for dolls, she had thought when she first saw them, finding them utterly quaint. )He carried two or three in his pocket all day long, slipping the fluid into his flesh. (She had stumbled on him once vomiting from its excess, crouched and shaking in one of the dark corners of the villa, looking up and hardly recognizing her. She had tried speaking with him and he had stared back. He had found the metal supply box, torn it open with God knows what strength. Once when the sapper cut open the palm of his hand on an iron gate, Caravaggio broke the glass tip off with his teeth, sucked and spat the morphine onto the brown hand before Kip even knew what it was. Kip pushing him away, glaring in anger. )“Leave him alone."She said,"He’s my patient.” “I won’t damage him. Caravaggio said:"The morphine and alcohol will take away the pain.”