A Room with a View | Progressively Translated Dutch A1 Books

A Room with a View | Progressively Translated Dutch A1 Books

Unlock the potential of this modern translation approach, designed to enhance your language learning experience. By allowing you to choose your difficulty level, it guarantees a personalized challenge that's suited to your progress. This method promotes comprehension by encouraging you to infer the meaning of new words from context, rather than relying heavily on direct translations. Though some translations are obscured to stimulate guessing, it's perfectly fine to consult a dictionary when needed. This technique combines challenge and support, making language learning fun and effective. Explore these translated classics to enjoy literature while advancing your language skills.

ChapterITheBertolini
“TheSignora
had
had
nobusinesstodoit,”
zei
said
MissBartlett,“nobusinessatall.
She
beloofde
promised
ussouthroomswith
een
a
viewclosetogether,insteadofwhich
hier
here
arenorthrooms,lookinginto
een
a
courtyard,andalong
weg
way
apart.
Oh,Lucy!”
“And
een
a
Cockney,besides!”
saidLucy,
die
who
hadbeenfurthersaddenedbytheSignora’sunexpectedaccent.
“It
kan
might
beLondon.”
Shelookedat
de
the
tworowsofEnglishpeople
die
who
weresittingatthetable;
at
de
the
rowofwhitebottlesofwater
en
and
redbottlesofwine
die
that
ranbetweentheEnglishpeople;
attheportraitsofthelateQueen
en
and
thelatePoetLaureate
die
that
hungbehindtheEnglish
volk
people
,heavilyframed;
atthenoticeof
de
the
Englishchurch(Rev.
CuthbertEager,M.A.
Oxon.),
dat
that
wastheonlyotherdecorationof
de
the
wall.
“Charlotte,don’tyou
voel
feel
,too,thatwemightbeinLondon?
I
kan
can
hardlybelievethatallkindsof
andere
other
thingsarejustoutside.
Isupposeitisone’sbeingsotired.”
“Thismeathassurelybeen
gebruikt
used
forsoup,”saidMissBartlett,layingdownherfork.
“I
wil
want
sotoseetheArno.
De
The
roomstheSignorapromisedusinherletter
zouden
would
havelookedovertheArno.
De
The
Signorahadnobusinesstodoitatall.
Oh,itisashame!”
“Anynookdoesforme,”MissBartlettcontinued;
“butitdoesseem
moeilijk
hard
thatyoushouldn’thaveaview.”
Lucyfelt
dat
that
shehadbeenselfish.
“Charlotte,youmustn’tspoil
me
me
:
ofcourse,youmust
kijken
look
overtheArno,too.
Imeant
dat
that
.
Thefirstvacantroomin
de
the
front—”
“Youmusthaveit,”
zei
said
MissBartlett,partofwhosetravellingexpenseswere
betaald
paid
byLucy’smother—apieceofgenerositytowhichshemade
veel
many
atactfulallusion.
“No,
nee
no
.Youmusthaveit.”
“Iinsistonit.
Your
moeder
mother
wouldneverforgiveme,Lucy.”
“She
zou
would
neverforgiveme.”
Theladies’voicesgrewanimated,and—if
de
the
sadtruthbeowned—a
beetje
little
peevish.
Theyweretired,
en
and
undertheguiseofunselfishnesstheywrangled.
Sommige
Some
oftheirneighboursinterchangedglances,
en
and
oneofthem—oneoftheill-bred
mensen
people
whomonedoesmeetabroad—leantforward
over
over
thetableandactuallyintrudedintotheirargument.
He
zei
said:
.
“Ihaveaview,I
heb
have
aview.”
MissBartlettwasstartled.
Generallyat
een
a
pensionpeoplelookedthem
over
over
foradayor
twee
two
beforespeaking,andoften
doen
did
notfindoutthatthey
zouden
would
“do”tilltheyhadgone.
She
wist
knew
thattheintruderwasill-bred,
zelfs
even
beforesheglancedat
hem
him
.
Hewasanold
man
man
,ofheavybuild,withafair,shaven
gezicht
face
andlargeeyes.
Therewas
iets
something
childishinthoseeyes,thoughitwasnotthechildishnessofsenility.
What
precies
exactly
itwasMissBartlettdidnot
stopte
stop
toconsider,forherglancepassedontohisclothes.
Thesedidnotattract
haar
her
.
Hewasprobablytryingtobecomeacquaintedwiththem
voordat
before
theygotintotheswim.
Sosheassumed
een
a
dazedexpressionwhenhe
sprak
spoke
toher,andthen
zei
said
:
“Aview?
Oh,aview!
Howdelightful
een
a
viewis!”
“Thisismyson,”
zei
said
theoldman;
“hisname’sGeorge.
He
heeft
has
aviewtoo.”
“Ah,”
zei
said
MissBartlett,repressingLucy,
die
who
wasabouttospeak.
“WhatImean,”hecontinued,“is
dat
that
youcanhaveourrooms,
en
and
we’llhaveyours.
We’llchange.”
De
The
betterclassoftouristwasshockedat
dit
this
,andsympathizedwiththenew-comers.
MissBartlett,inreply,
opende
opened
hermouthaslittleas
mogelijk
possible
,andsaid“Thankyou
erg
very
muchindeed;
thatisoutofthequestion.”
“Why?”
zei
said
theoldman,withbothfistson
de
the
table.
“Becauseitisquiteoutofthequestion,
dank
thank
you.”
“Yousee,wedon’tliketotake—”
beganLucy.
Hercousin
weer
again
repressedher.
“Butwhy?”
hepersisted.
“Womenlike
kijken
looking
ataview;
mendon’t.”
En
And
hethumpedwithhisfists
als
like
anaughtychild,and
draaide
turned
tohisson,saying,“George,persuadethem!”
“It’ssoobviousthey
moeten
should
havetherooms,”said
de
the
son.
“There’snothingelsetosay.”
Hedidnot
keek
look
attheladiesashe
sprak
spoke
,buthisvoicewasperplexed
en
and
sorrowful.
Lucy,too,wasperplexed;
maar
but
shesawthattheywereinforwhatisknownas“quiteascene,”
en
and
shehadanodd
gevoel
feeling
thatwhenevertheseill-bredtourists
spraken
spoke
thecontestwidenedanddeepenedtillitdealt,not
met
with
roomsandviews,butwith—well,
met
with
somethingquitedifferent,whoseexistenceshe
had
had
notrealizedbefore.
Now
de
the
oldmanattackedMissBartlett
bijna
almost
violently:
Whyshouldshenot
veranderen
change
?
Whatpossibleobjectionhad
ze
she
?
Theywouldclearoutin
half
half
anhour.
MissBartlett,thoughskilledinthedelicaciesofconversation,waspowerlessinthepresenceofbrutality.
Itwasimpossibletosnubanyonesogross.
Her
gezicht
face
reddenedwithdispleasure.
She
keek
looked
aroundasmuchasto
zeggen
say
,“Areyoualllikethis?”
En
And
twolittleoldladies,
die
who
weresittingfurtherup
de
the
table,withshawlshanging
over
over
thebacksofthechairs,
keken
looked
back,clearlyindicating“Wearenot;
wearegenteel.”
“Eatyour
diner
dinner
,dear,”shesaidtoLucy,
en
and
begantotoyagain
met
with
themeatthatshe
had
had
oncecensured.
Lucymumbledthatthoseseemed
heel
very
oddpeopleopposite.
“Eatyour
diner
dinner
,dear.
Thispensionis
een
a
failure.
To-morrowwewill
maken
make
achange.”
Hardlyhadsheannounced
dit
this
felldecisionwhenshereversed
het
it
.
Thecurtainsatthe
einde
end
oftheroomparted,
en
and
revealedaclergyman,stout
maar
but
attractive,whohurriedforwardto
nemen
take
hisplaceatthetable,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.
Lucy,
die
who
hadnotyetacquireddecency,atoncerosetoherfeet,exclaiming:
“Oh,oh!
Why,it’sMr.Beebe!
Oh,howperfectlylovely!
Oh,Charlotte,we
moeten
must
stopnow,howeverbad
de
the
roomsare.
Oh!”
MissBartlett
zei
said
,withmorerestraint:.
“Howdoyoudo,Mr.Beebe?
Iexpect
dat
that
youhaveforgottenus:
MissBartlett
en
and
MissHoneychurch,whowereatTunbridgeWells
toen
when
youhelpedtheVicarofSt.Peter’sthat
zeer
very
coldEaster.”
Theclergyman,
die
who
hadtheairofoneonaholiday,didnotremember
de
the
ladiesquiteasclearlyastheyremembered
hem
him
.
Buthecameforwardpleasantly
genoeg
enough
andacceptedthechairinto
waarin
which
hewasbeckonedbyLucy.
“Iamsogladto
zien
see
you,”saidthegirl,whowasin
een
a
stateofspiritualstarvation,
en
and
wouldhavebeengladto
zien
see
thewaiterifhercousin
had
had
permittedit.
“Justfancy
hoe
how
smalltheworldis.
Summer
Street
Street
,too,makesitsospeciallyfunny.”
“MissHoneychurchlivesintheparishofSummerStreet,”
zei
said
MissBartlett,fillingupthegap,“andshe
gebeurde
happened
totellmeinthecourseofconversation
dat
that
youhavejustacceptedtheliving—”.
“Yes,I
hoorde
heard
frommothersolast
week
week
.
Shedidn’tknowthatIknewyouatTunbridgeWells;
maar
but
Iwrotebackatonce,
en
and
Isaid:
‘Mr.
Beebeis—’”.
“Quiteright,”
zei
said
theclergyman.
“Imoveinto
de
the
RectoryatSummerStreet
volgende
next
June.
Iamluckytobeappointedtosuchacharmingneighbourhood.”
“Oh,howgladIam!
De
The
nameofourhouseisWindyCorner.”
Mr.Beebebowed.
“Thereis
moeder
mother
andmegenerally,andmy
broer
brother
,thoughit’snotoftenwe
krijgen
get
himtoch——
Thechurchisrather
ver
far
off,Imean.”
“Lucy,dearest,
laat
let
Mr.Beebeeathisdinner.”
“Iam
eet
eating
it,thankyou,andenjoyingit.”
Hepreferredto
sprak
talk
toLucy,whoseplayingheremembered,rather
dan
than
toMissBartlett,who
waarschijnlijk
probably
rememberedhissermons.
He
vroeg
asked
thegirlwhethershe
kende
knew
Florencewell,andwasinformedatsomelength
dat
that
shehadneverbeen
er
there
before.
Itisdelightfultoadvise
een
a
newcomer,andhewas
eerste
first
inthefield.
“Don’tneglect
het
the
countryround,”hisadviceconcluded.
“The
eerste
first
fineafternoondriveuptoFiesole,
en
and
roundbySettignano,or
iets
something
ofthatsort.”
“No!”
cried
een
a
voicefromthetopof
de
the
table.
“Mr.
Beebe,youare
mis
wrong
.
Thefirstfineafternoonyourladies
moeten
must
gotoPrato.”
“That
dame
lady
lookssoclever,”whisperedMissBartletttohercousin.
“Weareinluck.”
En
And
,indeed,aperfecttorrentofinformationburston
hen
them
.
Peopletoldthemwhatto
zien
see
,whentoseeit,
hoe
how
tostoptheelectrictrams,
hoe
how
togetridofthebeggars,
hoe
how
muchtogivefor
een
a
vellumblotter,howmuchthe
plaats
place
wouldgrowuponthem.
Het
The
PensionBertolinihaddecided,
bijna
almost
enthusiastically,thattheywould
doen
do
.
Whicheverwaytheylooked,
vriendelijke
kind
ladiessmiledandshoutedatthem.
En
And
aboveallrosethevoiceof
de
the
cleverlady,crying:
“Prato!
They
moeten
must
gotoPrato.
That
plek
place
istoosweetlysqualidforwords.
I
hou
love
it;
Irevelinshaking
af
off
thetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”
De
The
youngmannamedGeorgeglancedat
de
the
cleverlady,andthen
keerde
returned
moodilytohisplate.
Obviouslyhe
en
and
hisfatherdidnot
deden
do
.
Lucy,inthemidstofhersuccess,
vond
found
timetowishthey
deden
did
.
Itgavehernoextrapleasure
dat
that
anyoneshouldbeleftinthe
kou
cold
;
andwhensheroseto
gaan
go
,sheturnedbackand
gaf
gave
thetwooutsidersanervous
kleine
little
bow.
Thefatherdidnot
zag
see
it;
thesonacknowledgedit,notbyanotherbow,
maar
but
byraisinghiseyebrows
en
and
smiling;
heseemedtobesmilingacross
iets
something
.
Shehastenedafterhercousin,whohad
al
already
disappearedthroughthecurtains—curtainswhichsmote
een
one
intheface,andseemedheavy
met
with
morethancloth.
Beyondthem
stond
stood
theunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,
en
and
supportedby’Enery,her
kleine
little
boy,andVictorier,her
dochter
daughter
.
Itmadeacurious
kleine
little
scene,thisattemptoftheCockneytoconveythegrace
en
and
genialityoftheSouth.
En
And
evenmorecuriouswas
de
the
drawing-room,whichattemptedtorival
de
the
solidcomfortofaBloomsburyboarding-house.
Was
dit
this
reallyItaly?
MissBartlettwas
al
already
seatedonatightlystuffedarm-chair,
die
which
hadthecolourand
de
the
contoursofatomato.
Shewas
sprak
talking
toMr.Beebe,andasshe
sprak
spoke
,herlongnarrowheaddrovebackwards
en
and
forwards,slowly,regularly,asthoughsheweredemolishingsomeinvisibleobstacle.
“Wearemostgratefultoyou,”shewas
zei
saying
.
“Thefirsteveningmeansso
veel
much
.
Whenyouarrivedwewereinfor
een
a
peculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”
Heexpressedhisregret.
“Doyou,byanychance,
weet
know
thenameofan
oude
old
manwhosatoppositeusatdinner?”
“Emerson.”
“Ishe
een
a
friendofyours?”
“Wearefriendly—as
men
one
isinpensions.”
“ThenI
zal
will
saynomore.”
Hepressedher
heel
very
slightly,andshesaid
meer
more
.
“Iam,asitwere,”sheconcluded,“thechaperonofmy
jonge
young
cousin,Lucy,andit
zou
would
beaseriousthingifIputher
onder
under
anobligationtopeopleofwhomwe
weten
know
nothing.
Hismannerwassomewhatunfortunate.
I
hoop
hope
Iactedforthebest.”
“Youacted
heel
very
naturally,”saidhe.
Heseemedthoughtful,
en
and
afterafewmomentsadded:
“All
het
the
same,Idon’tthink
veel
much
harmwouldhavecomeofaccepting.”
“Noharm,of
natuurlijk
course
.
Butwecouldnotbe
onder
under
anobligation.”
“Heisrather
een
a
peculiarman.”
Againhehesitated,
en
and
thensaidgently:
“I
denk
think
hewouldnottakeadvantageofyouracceptance,norexpectyouto
toont
show
gratitude.
Hehasthemerit—ifitisone—of
zeggen
saying
exactlywhathemeans.
He
heeft
has
roomshedoesnotvalue,
en
and
hethinksyouwouldvalue
ze
them
.
Henomorethoughtof
zetten
putting
youunderanobligation
dan
than
hethoughtofbeingpolite.
Itissodifficult—atleast,I
vind
find
itdifficult—tounderstandpeople
die
who
speakthetruth.”
Lucywaspleased,
en
and
said:
“Iwashoping
dat
that
hewasnice;
Idoso
altijd
always
hopethatpeoplewillbenice.”
“I
denk
think
heis;
niceandtiresome.
Idifferfromhimon
bijna
almost
everypointofanyimportance,
en
and
so,Iexpect—Imay
zeggen
say
Ihope—youwilldiffer.
Maar
But
hisisatypeonedisagreeswithratherthandeplores.
Toen
When
hefirstcameherehenotunnaturally
zette
put
people’sbacksup.
He
heeft
has
notactandnomanners—Idon’t
bedoel
mean
bythatthathe
heeft
has
badmanners—andhewillnot
houden
keep
hisopinionstohimself.
Wenearlycomplained
over
about
himtoourdepressingSignora,
maar
but
Iamgladto
zeggen
say
wethoughtbetterofit.”
“AmItoconclude,”
zei
said
MissBartlett,“thatheis
een
a
Socialist?”
Mr.
Beebeacceptedtheconvenient
woord
word
,notwithoutaslighttwitchingofthelips.
“Andpresumablyhe
heeft
has
broughtuphissontobeaSocialist,too?”
“Ihardly
ken
know
George,forhehasn’t
geleerd
learnt
totalkyet.