A Room with a View | Progressively Translated Dutch A1-B2 Books

A Room with a View | Progressively Translated Dutch A1-B2 Books

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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’s
onverwachte
unexpected
accent.
“ItmightbeLondon.”
She
keek
looked
atthetworowsofEnglishpeople
die
who
weresittingatthe
tafel
table
;
attherowof
witte
white
bottlesofwaterand
rode
red
bottlesofwinethat
liepen
ran
betweentheEnglishpeople;
attheportraitsofthelate
Koningin
Queen
andthelatePoetLaureate
die
that
hungbehindtheEnglish
volk
people
,heavilyframed;
atthe
kennisgeving
notice
oftheEnglishchurch(Rev.
CuthbertEager,M.A.
Oxon.),
dat
that
wastheonlyother
decoratie
decoration
ofthewall.
“Charlotte,don’tyou
voel
feel
,too,thatwemightbeinLondon?
I
kan
can
hardlybelievethatallkindsof
andere
other
thingsarejustoutside.
I
veronderstel
suppose
itisone’sbeingsotired.”
“This
vlees
meat
hassurelybeenusedforsoup,”
zei
said
MissBartlett,layingdownher
vork
fork
.
“Iwantsoto
zien
see
theArno.
Therooms
de
the
Signorapromisedusinher
brief
letter
wouldhavelookedover
de
the
Arno.
TheSignorahadnobusinesstodoitatall.
Oh,itisashame!”
“Anynookdoesforme,”MissBartlettcontinued;
“butitdoes
lijkt
seem
hardthatyoushouldn’t
hebben
have
aview.”
Lucyfelt
dat
that
shehadbeenselfish.
“Charlotte,youmustn’t
verwennen
spoil
me:
ofcourse,you
moet
must
lookovertheArno,too.
Imeant
dat
that
.
Thefirstvacantroomin
de
the
front—”
“Youmusthaveit,”
zei
said
MissBartlett,partof
wiens
whose
travellingexpenseswerepaidbyLucy’smother—a
stuk
piece
ofgenerositytowhichshemade
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—leant
naar voren
forward
overthetableand
daadwerkelijk
actually
intrudedintotheirargument.
He
zei
said:
.
“Ihaveaview,I
heb
have
aview.”
MissBartlettwasstartled.
Algemeen
Generally
atapensionpeople
keken
looked
themoverfora
dag
day
ortwobeforespeaking,
en
and
oftendidnotfindout
dat
that
theywould“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,forher
blik
glance
passedontohis
kleren
clothes
.
Thesedidnotattract
haar
her
.
Hewasprobablytryingtobecomeacquaintedwiththem
voordat
before
theygotintothe
zwemmen
swim
.
Sosheassumedadazed
uitdrukking
expression
whenhespoketo
haar
her
,andthensaid:
“A
uitzicht
view
?
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
betterclassoftouristwas
geschokt
shocked
atthis,andsympathized
met
with
thenew-comers.
MissBartlett,in
antwoord
reply
,openedhermouthas
weinig
little
aspossible,andsaid“Thankyou
erg
very
muchindeed;
thatisoutofthequestion.”
“Why?”
zei
said
theoldman,withbothfistson
de
the
table.
“Becauseitisquiteoutofthequestion,
dank
thank
you.”
“Yousee,wedon’tliketotake—”
begon
began
Lucy.
Hercousinagainrepressed
haar
her
.
“Butwhy?”
hepersisted.
“Womenlike
kijken
looking
ataview;
mendon’t.”
En
And
hethumpedwithhisfists
als
like
anaughtychild,and
draaide
turned
tohisson,saying,“George,
overtuigen
persuade
them!”
“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,whose
bestaan
existence
shehadnotrealizedbefore.
Nu
Now
theoldmanattackedMissBartlett
bijna
almost
violently:
Whyshouldshenot
veranderen
change
?
Whatpossibleobjectionhad
ze
she
?
Theywouldclearoutin
half
half
anhour.
MissBartlett,thoughskilledinthedelicaciesof
gesprek
conversation
,waspowerlessinthe
aanwezigheid
presence
ofbrutality.
Itwas
onmogelijk
impossible
tosnubanyonesogross.
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.
Lucymumbledthatthose
leken
seemed
veryoddpeopleopposite.
“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
hisplaceatthe
tafel
table
,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.
Lucy,
die
who
hadnotyetacquired
fatsoen
decency
,atoncerosetoherfeet,exclaiming:
“Oh,oh!
Why,it’sMr.Beebe!
Oh,howperfectly
heerlijk
lovely
!
Oh,Charlotte,wemust
stoppen
stop
now,howeverbadtherooms
zijn
are
.
Oh!”
MissBartlettsaid,
met
with
morerestraint:.
“Howdoyoudo,Mr.Beebe?
Iexpect
dat
that
youhaveforgottenus:
MissBartlett
en
and
MissHoneychurch,whowereatTunbridgeWells
toen
when
youhelpedtheVicarofSt.Peter’sthat
zeer
very
coldEaster.”
Theclergyman,
die
who
hadtheairofoneona
vakantie
holiday
,didnotremembertheladiesquiteas
duidelijk
clearly
astheyrememberedhim.
Maar
But
hecameforwardpleasantly
genoeg
enough
andacceptedthechairinto
waarin
which
hewasbeckonedbyLucy.
“Iamso
blij
glad
toseeyou,”saidthe
meisje
girl
,whowasina
staat
state
ofspiritualstarvation,and
zou
would
havebeengladto
zien
see
thewaiterifher
neef
cousin
hadpermittedit.
“Justfancy
hoe
how
smalltheworldis.
Summer
Street
Street
,too,makesitsospeciallyfunny.”
“MissHoneychurchlivesinthe
parochie
parish
ofSummerStreet,”saidMissBartlett,
vullen
filling
upthegap,“andshe
gebeurde
happened
totellmeinthecourseof
gesprek
conversation
thatyouhavejust
geaccepteerd
accepted
theliving—”.
“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.
Iamluckytobe
aangesteld
appointed
tosuchacharmingneighbourhood.”
“Oh,how
blij
glad
Iam!
Thenameofour
huis
house
isWindyCorner.”
Mr.Beebe
boog
bowed
.
“Thereismotherandme
algemeen
generally
,andmybrother,thoughit’snot
vaak
often
wegethimtoch——
De
The
churchisratherfaroff,Imean.”
“Lucy,dearest,
laat
let
Mr.Beebeeathisdinner.”
“Iam
eet
eating
it,thankyou,and
geniet
enjoying
it.”
Hepreferredto
sprak
talk
toLucy,whoseplayingheremembered,
liever
rather
thantoMissBartlett,
die
who
probablyrememberedhissermons.
He
vroeg
asked
thegirlwhethershe
kende
knew
Florencewell,andwas
geïnformeerd
informed
atsomelengththatshehadneverbeen
er
there
before.
Itisdelightfulto
adviseren
advise
anewcomer,andhewas
eerste
first
inthefield.
“Don’tneglect
het
the
countryround,”hisadvice
concludeerde
concluded
.
“Thefirstfineafternoon
rijden
drive
uptoFiesole,and
rond
round
bySettignano,orsomethingofthatsort.”
“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,aperfecttorrentof
informatie
information
burstonthem.
People
vertelden
told
themwhattosee,
wanneer
when
toseeit,howto
stoppen
stop
theelectrictrams,howtogetridofthebeggars,
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
aboveallrosethe
stem
voice
ofthecleverlady,
huilend
crying
:
“Prato!
TheymustgotoPrato.
Die
That
placeistoosweetlysqualidforwords.
I
hou
love
it;
Irevelin
schudden
shaking
offthetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”
De
The
youngmannamedGeorgeglancedat
de
the
cleverlady,andthen
keerde
returned
moodilytohisplate.
Duidelijk
Obviously
heandhisfather
deden
did
notdo.
Lucy,inthemidstofher
succes
success
,foundtimetowishthey
deden
did
.
Itgaveherno
extra
extra
pleasurethatanyoneshouldbeleftinthe
kou
cold
;
andwhensheroseto
gaan
go
,sheturnedbackand
gaf
gave
thetwooutsidersanervous
kleine
little
bow.
Thefatherdidnot
zag
see
it;
thesonacknowledgedit,notbyanotherbow,
maar
but
byraisinghiseyebrows
en
and
smiling;
heseemedtobe
glimlachen
smiling
acrosssomething.
Shehastenedafterher
neef
cousin
,whohadalreadydisappeared
door
through
thecurtains—curtainswhichsmote
een
one
intheface,and
leek
seemed
heavywithmorethan
doek
cloth
.
BeyondthemstoodtheunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,
en
and
supportedby’Enery,her
kleine
little
boy,andVictorier,her
dochter
daughter
.
Itmadeacurious
kleine
little
scene,thisattemptoftheCockneyto
brengen
convey
thegraceandgenialityofthe
Zuiden
South
.
Andevenmorecuriouswas
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,asthoughshewere
slopen
demolishing
someinvisibleobstacle.
“Wearemostgratefultoyou,”shewas
zei
saying
.
“Thefirsteveningmeansso
veel
much
.
Whenyouarrivedwewereinfor
een
a
peculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”
He
uit
expressed
hisregret.
“Doyou,byanychance,
weet
know
thenameofan
oude
old
manwhosatoppositeusatdinner?”
“Emerson.”
“Ishe
een
a
friendofyours?”
“Wearefriendly—as
men
one
isinpensions.”
“ThenI
zal
will
saynomore.”
He
drukte
pressed
herveryslightly,andshe
zei
said
more.
“Iam,asitwere,”she
concludeerde
concluded
,“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.
He
leek
seemed
thoughtful,andaftera
paar
few
momentsadded:
“Allthesame,Idon’t
denk
think
muchharmwouldhavecomeofaccepting.”
“No
kwaad
harm
,ofcourse.
Butwe
kunnen
could
notbeunderanobligation.”
“Heis
nogal
rather
apeculiarman.”
Againhe
aarzelde
hesitated
,andthensaidgently:
“I
denk
think
hewouldnottakeadvantageofyour
acceptatie
acceptance
,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
hethoughtofbeing
beleefd
polite
.
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;
niceand
vervelend
tiresome
.
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.
We
bijna
nearly
complainedabouthimtoourdepressingSignora,
maar
but
Iamgladto
zeggen
say
wethoughtbetterofit.”
“AmItoconclude,”
zei
said
MissBartlett,“thatheis
een
a
Socialist?”
Mr.
Beebeacceptedthe
handige
convenient
word,notwithouta
lichte
slight
twitchingofthelips.
“And
vermoedelijk
presumably
hehasbroughtuphis
zoon
son
tobeaSocialist,too?”
“I
nauwelijks
hardly
knowGeorge,forhehasn’t
geleerd
learnt
totalkyet.