They both became aware that Wonko the Sane was glancing sharply backwards and forwards between them, and trying to get a gasp in edgeways. You have one of those too? he said to both of them. Yes. They both said it. He looked long and calmly at each of them, then he held up the bowl to catch the light of the Californian sun. The bowl seemed almost to sing with the sun, to chime with the intensity of its light, and cast darkly brilliant rainbows around the sand and upon them. He turned it, and turned it. They could see quite clearly in the fine tracery of its etchwork the words “So Long, and Thanks For All The Fish.” Do you know, asked Wonko quietly, what it is? They each shook their heads slowly, and with wonder, almost hypnotized by the flashing of the lightning shadows in the grey glass. It is a farewell gift from the dolphins, said Wonko in a low quiet voice, the dolphins whom I loved and studied, and swam with, and fed with fish, and even tried to learn their language, a task which they seemed to make impossibly difficult, considering the fact that I now realize they were perfectly capable of communicating in ours if they decided they wanted to. He shook his head with a slow, slow smile, and then looked again at Fenchurch, and then at Arthur. Have you… he said to Arthur, what have you done with yours? May I ask you that? Er, I keep a fish in it, said Arthur, slightly embarrassed. I happened to have this fish I was wondering what to do with, and, er, there was this bowl. He tailed off. You’ve done nothing else? No, he said, if you had, you would know. He shook his head again. My wife kept wheatgerm in ours, resumed Wonko, with some new tone in his voice, until last night… What, said Arthur slowly and hushedly, happened last night? We ran out of wheatgerm, said Wonko, evenly. My wife, he added, has gone to get some more. He seemed lost with his own thoughts for a moment. And what happened then? said Fenchurch, in the same breathless tone. I washed it, said Wonko. I washed it very carefully, very very carefully, removing every last speck of wheatgerm, then I dried it slowly with a lint-free cloth, slowly, carefully, turning it over and over. Then I held it to my ear. Have you… have you held one to your ear? They both shook their heads, again slowly, again dumbly. Perhaps, he said, you should. 他們都意識到獨醒客來回尖銳地看着他們，試圖喘着氣岔進來。 “你們也有這個東西？”他對他倆說。 “是的。”他們都說。 他久久地、平靜地看着他們，然後把碗舉起來，對着加利福尼亞的陽光。 魚缸看起來迎着陽光似乎要唱首歌，來應和陽光的照耀，並且把淡淡而絢麗的彩虹灑在沙灘上，灑在他們身上。他轉動魚缸，又轉了轉。他們能夠清楚地看見細小而情形的字跡：“再見，謝謝你們的魚。” “你們知道，”獨醒客輕輕地問，“這是什麼嗎？” 他倆緩緩的搖頭，幾乎被透過灰色的玻璃的光影帶入了夢境。 “這是海豚們離開的時候送的禮物。”獨醒客用低緩的聲音說，“那些海豚，我愛過它們，學習過它們，用魚餵過它們，甚至試着去學習它們的語言，但它們把自己的語言弄得很難，我們根本不可能學會。但是如果它們願意的話，可以毫不費力地學會我們的語言。” 他搖搖頭，臉上緩慢地浮現出一個微笑，看了看芬切琪，又看了看阿瑟。 “你有沒有……”他對阿瑟說，“你用自己的魚缸做什麼了？我可不可以問一問？” “呃，我在裏面放了條魚，”阿瑟有點侷促地說，“我正好有一條魚不知道該怎麼處理，然後，呃，就有了這個魚缸。”他聲音越來越小，然後沒說了。 “沒幹別的吧？應該沒有，”他說，“如果你做了，你會知道的。”他搖搖頭。 “我妻子在我們的魚缸裏面放了麥芽，”獨醒客換了個口氣接着說，“直到昨天晚上……” “什麼？”阿瑟緩緩地說，“昨天晚上發生的？” “我們的麥芽吃完了，”獨醒客很平靜，“我妻子去再買一點。”有那麼一會他看起來陷入自己的思想中去了。 “然後發生了什麼？”芬切琪用同樣的幾乎屏息的聲音問。 “我洗了魚缸。”獨醒客說，“我非常仔細地洗了魚缸，非常非常仔細，洗掉了每一片麥芽的污跡，然後用一塊無絨布慢慢擦乾，慢慢地，仔細地、翻來覆去地擦乾。然後我放在耳朵邊上。你們有沒有……你們有沒有試過把魚缸放在耳朵邊上？” 他倆都默默地、緩緩地搖搖頭。 “也許，”他說，“你們應該試試。”
