THE OPEN WINDOW (after H. Munro)“My aunt will come down in a few minut перевод - THE OPEN WINDOW (after H. Munro)“My aunt will come down in a few minut русский как сказать

THE OPEN WINDOW (after H. Munro)“My

THE OPEN WINDOW (after H. Munro)
“My aunt will come down in a few minutes, Mr Nuttel,” said a girl of fifteen, showing him into the sitting-room. Mr Nuttel was a young painter who had recently had a nervous breakdown. The doctors had told him that he should go away for a holiday. They warned him, however, against crowded resorts and recommended a complete rest in a quiet country-place. So here he was, in a little village, with letters of introduction from his sister to some of the people she knew.
“Some of the people there are quite nice," his sister had said to him. "1 advise you to call on Mrs Sappleton as so on as you arrive. } owe the wonderful holiday I had to her.”
"Do you know many of the people round here?” as ked the girl when "they were sitting comfortably on the sofa.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t," answered Mr Nuttel. “I’ve never been here before. My sister stayed here four years ago, you know, and she gave me letters of introduction to some of the people here.”
“Then you know nothing about my aunt, do you?” asked the girl.
"Only her name and address,” said the visitor.
“Her great tragedy happened just three years ago,” said the child.
“Her tragedy?” asked Mr Nuttel.
“You may wonder why we keep that window wide open on вп October afternoon,” went on the girl, pointing to a Large French window.
“It’s quite warm for this time of year,” said Mr Nut- tfc!. “But has that window anything to do with the tra gedy?’
“Exactly three years ago my aunt’s husband and her two young brothers walked out through that window. They went shooting and never came back. When they were cros sing the river their boat probably turned over and they were all drowned. Their bodies were never found. That was the most horrible part of the tragedy.” Here the girl stopped. There were tears in her eyes and she drew a handkerchief out of her pocket. “Three years have passed, but my poor aunt still thinks that they will come back some day, they and the little brown dog that was drowned with them, and walk in through that window just as they always did. That is why the window is kept open every evening till it’s quite dark. Poor dear aunt, she can’t understand that they’ve left for ever. She’s crowing worse day by day, so let me give you some advice. Don’t be surprised at anything she says or does: she will start telling you all over again how they went out — her husband, with his coat over his arm, and her youngest brother, singing ‘Bertie, why don’t you come?...’ as she once told me. You know, sometimes, on quiet evenings like this, 1 almost get a feeling that they will all walk in through that window, and the whole family will be gathered in here again.’’ The young girl finished her sad story. There was a long pause, and Mr Nut- tel was glad when Mrs Sappleton at last entered the room. .
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, “but I hope my niece has entertained you well."
“Yes, she’s been very amusing,” said Mr Nuttel.
“D’you mind the open window?” asked Mrs Sappleton. “My husband and brothers will soon be home from shooting and they always come into the house this way." And she went on speaking gaily about shooting. After what Mr Nut tel had just heard, he looked worried.
“The doctors told me,” he said, trying to change the subject, “to have a rest here and to avoid anything that would make me feel nervous.”
“Did they?” said Mrs Sappleton in a voice which showed that she was not at all interested in what Mr Nuttel was saying. She never took her eyes off the open window and suddenly cried out:
“Here they are at last! Just in time for tea. How tired they look.”
Mr Nuttel looked at the girl and saw that she was looking out through the open window with horror in her eyes. Mr Nuttel turned round slowly in his seat, looked in the same direction and saw three figures walking across the garden towards the window. They all carried guns and one of them had a coat over his shoulder. A tired brown dog w’as following them. Noiselessly they approached the house, and then a young voice began to sing. “Bertie, why don’t you come?”
Mr Nuttel seized his hat and ran out of the house like mad.
“Here we are, my dear,” said Mrs Sappleton’s husband, coming in through the window. “We’ve enjoyed ourselves very much. I wonder what made that gentleman run out so quickly when we came up? Who is he?”
“A very strange young man, called Nuttel. He could only talk about his illness. He didn’t say a single interes ting thing. I don’t understand why he ran out that way without saying good-bye,” said his wife.
“I think it was the dog,” said the niece calmly. "He told me that he was afraid of dogs. Once when he was attacked by a pack of dogs somewhere in India, he was so frightened that he started running like mad, and finding himself in a cemetery, climbed down into a newly-dug grave, where he had to spend the night. Since then he has always been afraid of dogs.”
She was very good at inventing stories and did it artis tically.
0/5000
Источник: -
Цель: -
Результаты (русский) 1: [копия]
Скопировано!
THE OPEN WINDOW (after H. Munro)“My aunt will come down in a few minutes, Mr Nuttel,” said a girl of fifteen, showing him into the sitting-room. Mr Nuttel was a young painter who had recently had a nervous breakdown. The doctors had told him that he should go away for a holiday. They warned him, however, against crowded resorts and recommended a complete rest in a quiet country-place. So here he was, in a little village, with letters of introduction from his sister to some of the people she knew.“Some of the people there are quite nice," his sister had said to him. "1 advise you to call on Mrs Sappleton as so on as you arrive. } owe the wonderful holiday I had to her.”"Do you know many of the people round here?” as ked the girl when "they were sitting comfortably on the sofa.“No, I’m afraid I don’t," answered Mr Nuttel. “I’ve never been here before. My sister stayed here four years ago, you know, and she gave me letters of introduction to some of the people here.”“Then you know nothing about my aunt, do you?” asked the girl."Only her name and address,” said the visitor.“Her great tragedy happened just three years ago,” said the child.“Her tragedy?” asked Mr Nuttel.“You may wonder why we keep that window wide open on вп October afternoon,” went on the girl, pointing to a Large French window.“It’s quite warm for this time of year,” said Mr Nut- tfc!. “But has that window anything to do with the tra gedy?’“Exactly three years ago my aunt’s husband and her two young brothers walked out through that window. They went shooting and never came back. When they were cros sing the river their boat probably turned over and they were all drowned. Their bodies were never found. That was the most horrible part of the tragedy.” Here the girl stopped. There were tears in her eyes and she drew a handkerchief out of her pocket. “Three years have passed, but my poor aunt still thinks that they will come back some day, they and the little brown dog that was drowned with them, and walk in through that window just as they always did. That is why the window is kept open every evening till it’s quite dark. Poor dear aunt, she can’t understand that they’ve left for ever. She’s crowing worse day by day, so let me give you some advice. Don’t be surprised at anything she says or does: she will start telling you all over again how they went out — her husband, with his coat over his arm, and her youngest brother, singing ‘Bertie, why don’t you come?...’ as she once told me. You know, sometimes, on quiet evenings like this, 1 almost get a feeling that they will all walk in through that window, and the whole family will be gathered in here again.’’ The young girl finished her sad story. There was a long pause, and Mr Nut- tel was glad when Mrs Sappleton at last entered the room. .“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, “but I hope my niece has entertained you well."“Yes, she’s been very amusing,” said Mr Nuttel.“D’you mind the open window?” asked Mrs Sappleton. “My husband and brothers will soon be home from shooting and they always come into the house this way." And she went on speaking gaily about shooting. After what Mr Nut tel had just heard, he looked worried.“The doctors told me,” he said, trying to change the subject, “to have a rest here and to avoid anything that would make me feel nervous.”“Did they?” said Mrs Sappleton in a voice which showed that she was not at all interested in what Mr Nuttel was saying. She never took her eyes off the open window and suddenly cried out:“Here they are at last! Just in time for tea. How tired they look.”Mr Nuttel looked at the girl and saw that she was looking out through the open window with horror in her eyes. Mr Nuttel turned round slowly in his seat, looked in the same direction and saw three figures walking across the garden towards the window. They all carried guns and one of them had a coat over his shoulder. A tired brown dog w’as following them. Noiselessly they approached the house, and then a young voice began to sing. “Bertie, why don’t you come?”Mr Nuttel seized his hat and ran out of the house like mad.“Here we are, my dear,” said Mrs Sappleton’s husband, coming in through the window. “We’ve enjoyed ourselves very much. I wonder what made that gentleman run out so quickly when we came up? Who is he?”“A very strange young man, called Nuttel. He could only talk about his illness. He didn’t say a single interes ting thing. I don’t understand why he ran out that way without saying good-bye,” said his wife.“I think it was the dog,” said the niece calmly. "He told me that he was afraid of dogs. Once when he was attacked by a pack of dogs somewhere in India, he was so frightened that he started running like mad, and finding himself in a cemetery, climbed down into a newly-dug grave, where he had to spend the night. Since then he has always been afraid of dogs.”She was very good at inventing stories and did it artis tically.
переводится, пожалуйста, подождите..
Результаты (русский) 3:[копия]
Скопировано!
открытое окно (после H. монро)"моя тетя встанет в пару минут, мистер nuttel, - говорит девушка, пятнадцать, показывая его в гостиной.г - н nuttel был молодой художник, который недавно был нервный срыв.врачи сказали ему, что он должен уйти на отдых.они предупредили его, однако, против переполненных курортов и рекомендовал полный отдых в спокойной стране.вот он, в маленькой деревушке, рекомендательные письма от своей сестры, для некоторых людей, она знала."некоторые люди, там довольно мило," его сестра сказала ему ".1 проконсультировать призвать миссис sappleton как так, как вы подошли.} должен прекрасных праздников мне пришлось ее "."вы знаете, многие люди здесь?"по результатам девушка, когда" они сидели спокойно на диване."нет, я не знаю", - ответил господин nuttel."я никогда не была здесь раньше.моя сестра была здесь четыре года назад, ты знаешь, и она дала мне рекомендательные письма для некоторых людей здесь "."тогда вы ничего не знаете о моей тете, да?"попросил девушку."только свое имя и адрес, - говорит посетитель."ее большая трагедия произошла всего три года назад", - сказал ребенок."ее трагедия?- спросил господин nuttel."вы можете спросить, почему мы все окна открыты по вп октября во второй половине дня," пошел на девушку, указывая на крупные французские окна."это достаточно теплая для этого времени года", - сказал мистер орешек - TFC!". но это окно, ничего общего с tra gedy?""ровно три года назад моя тетя мужа и двух ее малолетних братьев, вышел через окно.они шли съемки, и больше не вернулся.когда они были оцр петь реки их лодка перевернулась, и, возможно, они все утонули.их тела так и не были найдены.это была самая ужасная часть трагедии. "здесь девушка остановилась.были и слезы в глазах, и она нарисовала платок из своего кармана."прошло три года, но моя бедная тетя все еще думает, что они придут сюда однажды, они и маленький коричневый собаку, которая утонула, с ними, и ходить в через окно, как и всегда.вот почему это окно открытым, каждый вечер, пока это довольно темно.бедняжка, тётя, она не может понять, что они ушли навсегда.она кукареканьи хуже день ото дня, так что позволь дать тебе совет.не удивляйтесь, на все, что она делает или говорит: она начнет говорить тебе снова, как они вышли - ее муж, с него пальто на руке, и ее младший брат, пение "берти, почему бы тебе не пойти?"как она как - то сказала мне.знаешь, иногда, тихими вечерами, как это, 1 чуть не чувствуют, что они все будут ходить через окно, и вся семья будет собрана, здесь снова. "девушка закончила свою печальную историю.была долгая пауза, и мистер орешек - телефон был рад, когда миссис sappleton наконец вошел в комнату.."мне жаль, что я опоздал, - говорит она, - но я надеюсь, что моя племянница провел хорошо.""да, она была очень смешно", - говорит господин nuttel."ты не против открытое окно?"попросил миссис sappleton."мой муж и братья скоро будет дома на съемки, и они всегда приходят в дом так". и она пошла на выступая радостно насчет стрельбы.после того, что мистер орешек: только что слышал, он встревожен."врачи сказали мне", - сказал он, пытался сменить тему, "отдохнуть здесь и избегать всего, что может заставить меня нервничать"."они?", - сказал миссис sappleton в голос, который показал, что она совсем не интересует то, что мистер nuttel говорил.она никогда не взял ее глаза в открытое окно и вдруг закричал:"они здесь наконец - то!как раз к чаю.они выглядят, как устал ".г - н nuttel посмотрел на девушку, и увидела, что она смотрит в открытое окно с ужасом в глазах.г - н nuttel обернулся медленно в его место, посмотрел в том же направлении и увидел три цифры, проходя через сад к окну.все они перевозятся пушки, и один из них был пиджак через плечо.уставший браун собака w'as после них.noiselessly они подъехали к дому, и тогда молодой голос начал петь."берти, почему бы тебе не пойти?"г - н nuttel захватил шляпу и выбежал из дома, как сумасшедший."мы здесь, дорогая", - сказала госпожа sappleton муж придет через окно."мы пользовались себя очень много.интересно, что этот джентльмен, беги так быстро, когда мы пришли?кто он?""очень странный молодой человек позвонил nuttel.он может говорить только о его болезни.он не сказал, что один интерес тинг вещь.я не понимаю, почему он убежал туда, не попрощавшись, - говорит его жена."я думаю, что это была собака", - сказал племянница спокойно ".он сказал мне, что он боится собак.однажды, когда он был атакован стая собак, где - то в индии, он был так напуган, что он начал бегать, как сумасшедший, и найти себя на кладбище, спускалась в недавно вырыли могилу, где он провел ночь.с.
переводится, пожалуйста, подождите..
 
Другие языки
Поддержка инструмент перевода: Клингонский (pIqaD), Определить язык, азербайджанский, албанский, амхарский, английский, арабский, армянский, африкаанс, баскский, белорусский, бенгальский, бирманский, болгарский, боснийский, валлийский, венгерский, вьетнамский, гавайский, галисийский, греческий, грузинский, гуджарати, датский, зулу, иврит, игбо, идиш, индонезийский, ирландский, исландский, испанский, итальянский, йоруба, казахский, каннада, каталанский, киргизский, китайский, китайский традиционный, корейский, корсиканский, креольский (Гаити), курманджи, кхмерский, кхоса, лаосский, латинский, латышский, литовский, люксембургский, македонский, малагасийский, малайский, малаялам, мальтийский, маори, маратхи, монгольский, немецкий, непальский, нидерландский, норвежский, ория, панджаби, персидский, польский, португальский, пушту, руанда, румынский, русский, самоанский, себуанский, сербский, сесото, сингальский, синдхи, словацкий, словенский, сомалийский, суахили, суданский, таджикский, тайский, тамильский, татарский, телугу, турецкий, туркменский, узбекский, уйгурский, украинский, урду, филиппинский, финский, французский, фризский, хауса, хинди, хмонг, хорватский, чева, чешский, шведский, шона, шотландский (гэльский), эсперанто, эстонский, яванский, японский, Язык перевода.

Copyright ©2024 I Love Translation. All reserved.

E-mail: