Ãëàâíàÿ Ñëó÷àéíàÿ ñòðàíèöà


Ïîëåçíîå:

Êàê ñäåëàòü ðàçãîâîð ïîëåçíûì è ïðèÿòíûì Êàê ñäåëàòü îáúåìíóþ çâåçäó ñâîèìè ðóêàìè Êàê ñäåëàòü òî, ÷òî äåëàòü íå õî÷åòñÿ? Êàê ñäåëàòü ïîãðåìóøêó Êàê ñäåëàòü òàê ÷òîáû æåíùèíû ñàìè çíàêîìèëèñü ñ âàìè Êàê ñäåëàòü èäåþ êîììåð÷åñêîé Êàê ñäåëàòü õîðîøóþ ðàñòÿæêó íîã? Êàê ñäåëàòü íàø ðàçóì çäîðîâûì? Êàê ñäåëàòü, ÷òîáû ëþäè îáìàíûâàëè ìåíüøå Âîïðîñ 4. Êàê ñäåëàòü òàê, ÷òîáû âàñ óâàæàëè è öåíèëè? Êàê ñäåëàòü ëó÷øå ñåáå è äðóãèì ëþäÿì Êàê ñäåëàòü ñâèäàíèå èíòåðåñíûì?


Êàòåãîðèè:

ÀðõèòåêòóðàÀñòðîíîìèÿÁèîëîãèÿÃåîãðàôèÿÃåîëîãèÿÈíôîðìàòèêàÈñêóññòâîÈñòîðèÿÊóëèíàðèÿÊóëüòóðàÌàðêåòèíãÌàòåìàòèêàÌåäèöèíàÌåíåäæìåíòÎõðàíà òðóäàÏðàâîÏðîèçâîäñòâîÏñèõîëîãèÿÐåëèãèÿÑîöèîëîãèÿÑïîðòÒåõíèêàÔèçèêàÔèëîñîôèÿÕèìèÿÝêîëîãèÿÝêîíîìèêàÝëåêòðîíèêà






Nick went out. As he shut the door he saw Ole Andreson with all his clothes on, lying on the bed looking at the wall.





“He’s been in his room all day,” the landlady said downstairs. “I guess he don’t feel well. I said to him: ‘Mr. Andreson, you ought to go out and take a walk on a nice fall day like this,’ but he didn’t feel like it.”

“He doesn’t want to go out.”

“I’m sorry he don’t feel well,” the woman said. “He’s an awfully nice man. He was in the ring, you know.”

“I know it.”

“You’d never know it except from the way his face is,” the woman said. They stood talking just inside the street door. “He’s just as gentle.”

“Well, good-night, Mrs. Hirsch,” Nick said.

“I’m not Mrs. Hirsch,” the woman said. “She owns the place. I just

look after it for her. I’m Mrs. Bell.”

“Well, good-night, Mrs. Bell,” Nick said.

“Good-night,” the woman said.

 

guess [ges]

 

Nick walked up the dark street to the corner under the arc-light (ïðîøåë ïî òåìíîé óëèöå äî óãëà ïîä ôîíàðåì), and then along the car-tracks to Henry’s eating house. George was inside, back of the counter.

“Did you see Ole?”

“Yes,” said Nick. “He’s in his room and he won’t go out.”

The cook opened the door from the kitchen when he heard Nick’s voice.

“I don’t even listen to it (ÿ äàæå íå ñëóøàþ ýòî),” he said and shut the door.

“Did you tell him about it?” George asked.

“Sure. I told him but he knows what it’s all about.”

“What’s he going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“They’ll kill him.”

“I guess they will.”

“He must have not mixed up in something in Chicago (åìó íå íàäî áûëî âïóòûâàòüñÿ âî ÷òî-òî òàì â ×èêàãî).”

“I guess so (ïîëàãàþ, ÷òî òàê),” said Nick.

“It’s a hell of a thing (ñêâåðíîå: «àäñêîå» äåëî; hell – àä).”

“It’s an awful thing,” Nick said.

They did not say anything. George reached down for a towel (äîñòàë ïîëîòåíöå: «ïîòÿíóëñÿ âíèç çà ïîëîòåíöåì») and wiped the counter (è âûòåð ñòîéêó).

“I wonder what he did (èíòåðåñíî, ÷òî æå îí òàêîå ñäåëàë)?” Nick said.

“Double-crossed somebody (ïåðåõèòðèë, îáîøåë êîãî-òî, ïåðåáåæàë êîìó-òî äîðîãó). That’s what they kill them for (âîò çà ÷òî îíè èõ óáèâàþò = èìåííî çà ýòî îáû÷íî óáèâàþò).”

“I’m going to get out of this town (ÿ óåäó, õîòåë áû, ñîáèðàþñü óåõàòü èç ýòîãî ãîðîäà),” Nick said.

“Yes,” said George. “That’s a good thing to do (ýòî õîðîøî áû: «ýòî õîðîøàÿ øòóêà = õîðîøî áû òàê ñäåëàòü»).”

“I can’t stand (ÿ íå ìîãó âûíåñòè, òåðïåòü) to think about him waiting in the room (êîãäà ïîäóìàþ, êàê îí æäåò â êîìíàòå) and knowing he’s going to get it (è çíàåò, ÷òî ïîëó÷èò ýòî = ÷òî ñ íèì êîí÷åíî). It’s too damned awful (ýòî óæàñíî: «ýòî ñëèøêîì ÷åðòîâñêè: «ïðîêëÿòî» óæàñíî»).”

“Well,” said George, “you better not think about it (à òû ëó÷øå íå äóìàé îá ýòîì).”

 

Nick walked up the dark street to the corner under the arc-light, and then along the car-tracks to Henry’s eating house. George was inside, back of the counter.

“Did you see Ole?”

“Yes,” said Nick. “He’s in his room and he won’t go out.”

The cook opened the door from the kitchen when he heard Nick’s voice.

“I don’t even listen to it,” he said and shut the door.

“Did you tell him about it?” George asked.

“Sure. I told him but he knows what it’s all about.”

“What’s he going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“They’ll kill him.”

“I guess they will.”

“He must have not mixed up in something in Chicago.”

“I guess so,” said Nick.

“It’s a hell of a thing.”

“It’s an awful thing,” Nick said.







Date: 2016-08-30; view: 214; Íàðóøåíèå àâòîðñêèõ ïðàâ



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