Tender is the night. F. Scott Fitzgerald. Учим английский, читая мировую классику. Елизавета Хундаева

Tender is the night. F. Scott Fitzgerald. Учим английский, читая мировую классику - Елизавета Хундаева


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who you are and would so like to meet you.»

      Glancing around with concealed (скрытый) annoyance (досада) Rosemary saw the untanned (незагоревший) people were waiting. Reluctantly (нехотя) she got up and went over to them.

      «Mrs. Abrams – Mrs. McKisco – Mr. McKisco – Mr. Dumphry—

      «We know who you are,» spoke up the woman in evening dress. «You’re Rosemary Hoyt and I recognized (узнать) you in Sorrento and asked the hotel clerk and we all think you’re perfectly marvelous (удивительный, замечательный) and we want to know why you’re not back in America making another marvellous (изумительный) moving (движущийся) picture.»

      They made a superfluous (излишний; ненужный) gesture of moving over for her. The woman who had recognized (узнать) her was not a Jewess (еврейка, иудейка), despite (несмотря на) her name. She was one of those elderly (пожилой,) «good sports» preserved by an imperviousness (стойкость) to experience (опыт) and a good digestion (усвоение; понимание) into another generation.

      «We wanted to warn you about getting burned (обгореть, загореть) the first day,» she continued cheerily (весело), «because YOUR skin is important, but there seems to be so darn (чертовски) much formality on this beach that we didn’t know whether you’d mind (возражать).»

      II

      «We thought maybe you were in the plot (заговор),» said Mrs. McKisco. She was a shabby-eyed (с бесчестными глазами), pretty young woman with a disheartening (приводящий в уныние) intensity (сила, энергия). «We don’t know who’s in the plot (заговор) and who isn’t. One man my husband had been particularly nice to turn out (оказаться) to be a chief (главный) character (герой) – practically the assistant (помощник) hero.»

      «The plot?» inquired Rosemary, half understanding. «Is there a plot?»

      «My dear, we don’t KNOW,» said Mrs. Abrams, with a convulsive (конвульсивный), stout (тучной, полный) woman’s chuckle (тихий смех; смех про себя). «We’re not in it. We’re the gallery (публика на галёрке).»

      Mr. Dumphry, a tow-headed (белокурый) effeminate (женоподобный) young man, remarked (заметить): «Mama Abrams is a plot in herself,» and Campion shook his monocle at him, saying: «Now, Royal, don’t be too ghastly (отвратительный) for words.» Rosemary looked at them all uncomfortably, wishing her mother had come down here with her. She did not like these people, especially in her immediate (непосредственный) comparison of them with those who had interested her at the other end of the beach. Her mother’s modest but compact social gift (способность, дарование; дар, талант) got them out of unwelcome (неудобный) situations swiftly (быстро) and firmly (твердо). But Rosemary had been a celebrity (знаменитость; звезда) for only six months, and sometimes the French manners of her early adolescence (юность, подростковый возраст) and the democratic manners of America, these latter superimposed (накладывать), made a certain confusion (беспорядок; неразбериха, путаница) and let her in (впутывать во) for just such things.

      Mr. McKisco, a scrawny (костлявый, сухопарый), freckle (веснушка) – and-red man of thirty, did not find the topic of the «plot» amusing (забавный, занимательный, занятный). He had been staring (уставиться) at the sea – now after a swift (быстрый) glance (взгляд) at his wife he turned to Rosemary and demanded (требовать) aggressively:

      «Been here long?»

      «Only a day.»

      «Oh.»

      Evidently feeling that the subject had been thoroughly changed, he looked in turn (по очереди) at the others.

      «Going to stay all summer?» asked Mrs. McKisco, innocently (невинно). «If you do (если останешься) you can watch the plot unfold (раскрывать).»

      «For God’s sake (ради бога), Violet, drop (бросать, отказываться от) the subject!» exploded her husband. «Get a new joke (шутка), for God’s sake!»

      Mrs. McKisco swayed (качнуться) toward Mrs. Abrams and breathed (выдохнуть) audibly (громко, вслух):

      «He’s nervous.»

      «I’m not nervous,» disagreed McKisco. «It just happens I’m not nervous at all.»

      He was burning (гореть) visibly (вслух) – a grayish flush (румянец) had spread over his face, dissolving (растворять) all his expressions into a vast (огромный) ineffectuality (отсутствие эффективности, действенности). Suddenly remotely (отдаленно) conscious (осознавать) of his condition he got up (подняться) to go in the water, followed by his wife (а жена следовала за ним), and seizing the opportunity (воспользоваться возможностью) Rosemary followed (последовать за ними).

      Mr. McKisco drew a long breath, flung himself into the shallows and began a stiff-armed batting of the Mediterranean, obviously intended to suggest a crawl – his breath exhausted he arose and looked around with an expression of surprise that he was still in sight of shore.

      «I haven’t learned to breathe (дышать) yet. I never quite understood how they breathed.» He looked at Rosemary inquiringly (вопросительно).

      «I think you breathe out (выдыхать) under water,» she explained. «And every fourth beat (такт, удар) you roll (крутить, вертеть) your head over (над водой) for air.»

      «The breathing’s the hardest part for me. Shall we go to the raft (плот, наплавной мост, паром)?»

      The man with the leonine (львиный) head lay stretched out upon the raft, which tipped (перевешивать) back and forth (вперед) with the motion (движение) of the water. As Mrs. McKisco reached for (потянуться) it a sudden (неожиданный) tilt (наклон) struck (ударить) her arm up roughly (сильно), whereupon (при этом) the man started up (поднялся на ноги) and pulled (вытянуть) her on board.

      «I was afraid it hit you (что он ударит вас).» His voice was slow (тихий) and shy (застенчивый); he had one of the saddest (печальный) faces Rosemary had ever seen (когда-либо видела), the high (высокий)


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