A Room with a View | Gradually Hardening Hindi A2 Translation Books

A Room with a View | Gradually Hardening Hindi A2 Translation Books

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ChapterITheBertolini
“TheSignorahadnobusinesstodoit,”saidMissBartlett,“nobusinessatall.
Shepromisedus
दक्षिण
south
roomswithaviewclosetogether,
बजाय
instead
ofwhichhereare
उत्तर
north
rooms,lookingintoacourtyard,andalongwayapart.
Oh,Lucy!”
“AndaCockney,besides!”
saidLucy,whohadbeen
अधिक
further
saddenedbytheSignora’sunexpectedaccent.
“ItmightbeLondon.”
ShelookedatthetworowsofEnglishpeoplewhoweresittingatthe
मेज
table
;
attherowofwhitebottlesofwaterandredbottlesof
शराब
wine
thatranbetweentheEnglishpeople;
attheportraitsofthelate
रानी
Queen
andthelatePoetLaureatethathungbehindtheEnglishpeople,heavilyframed;
atthe
सूचना
notice
oftheEnglishchurch(Rev.
CuthbertEager,M.A.
Oxon.),thatwastheonlyotherdecorationofthe
दीवार
wall
.
“Charlotte,don’tyoufeel,too,thatwemightbeinLondon?
Icanhardlybelievethatallkindsofotherthingsarejustoutside.
I
लगता
suppose
itisone’sbeingsotired.”
“This
मांस
meat
hassurelybeenusedforsoup,”saidMissBartlett,
किया
laying
downherfork.
“IwantsotoseetheArno.
TheroomstheSignorapromisedusinher
पत्र
letter
wouldhavelookedovertheArno.
TheSignorahadnobusinesstodoitatall.
Oh,itisashame!”
“Anynookdoesforme,”MissBartlettcontinued;
“butitdoes
लगता
seem
hardthatyoushouldn’thaveaview.”
Lucyfeltthatshehadbeenselfish.
“Charlotte,youmustn’tspoilme:
ofcourse,youmustlookovertheArno,too.
Imeantthat.
Thefirstvacantroominthefront—”
“Youmusthaveit,”saidMissBartlett,partof
जिनके
whose
travellingexpenseswerepaidbyLucy’smother—a
टुकड़ा
piece
ofgenerositytowhichshemademanyatactfulallusion.
“No,no.Youmusthaveit.”
“Iinsistonit.
Yourmotherwouldnever
माफ
forgive
me,Lucy.”
“Shewouldnever
माफ
forgive
me.”
Theladies’voicesgrewanimated,and—ifthe
दुखद
sad
truthbeowned—alittlepeevish.
Theyweretired,andundertheguiseofunselfishnesstheywrangled.
Someoftheirneighboursinterchangedglances,andoneofthem—oneoftheill-bredpeoplewhomonedoesmeetabroad—leant
आगे
forward
overthetableandactuallyintrudedintotheirargument.
Hesaid:.
“Ihaveaview,Ihaveaview.”
MissBartlettwasstartled.
Generallyatapensionpeoplelookedthemoverforadayortwobeforespeaking,and
अक्सर
often
didnotfindoutthattheywould“do”tilltheyhadgone.
Sheknewthattheintruderwasill-bred,evenbeforesheglancedathim.
Hewasanoldman,of
भारी
heavy
build,withafair,shavenfaceandlargeeyes.
Therewassomethingchildishinthoseeyes,thoughitwasnotthechildishnessofsenility.
WhatexactlyitwasMissBartlettdidnotstoptoconsider,forherglancepassedontohis
कपड़े
clothes
.
Thesedidnotattracther.
Hewasprobablytryingtobecomeacquaintedwiththembeforetheygotintotheswim.
Sosheassumedadazedexpressionwhenhespoketoher,andthensaid:
“Aview?
Oh,aview!
Howdelightfulaviewis!”
“Thisismyson,”saidtheoldman;
“hisname’sGeorge.
Hehasaviewtoo.”
“Ah,”saidMissBartlett,repressingLucy,whowasabouttospeak.
“WhatImean,”hecontinued,“isthatyoucanhaveourrooms,andwe’llhaveyours.
We’llchange.”
Thebetterclassoftouristwasshockedatthis,andsympathizedwiththenew-comers.
MissBartlett,inreply,openedhermouthaslittleaspossible,andsaid“Thankyouverymuchindeed;
thatisoutofthequestion.”
“Why?”
saidtheoldman,withbothfistsonthe
मेज
table
.
“Becauseitisquiteoutofthequestion,thankyou.”
“Yousee,wedon’tliketotake—”
beganLucy.
Her
चचेरे भाई
cousin
againrepressedher.
“Butwhy?”
hepersisted.
“Womenlikelookingataview;
mendon’t.”
Andhethumpedwithhisfistslikeanaughtychild,andturnedtohisson,saying,“George,persuadethem!”
“It’ssoobvioustheyshouldhavetherooms,”saidtheson.
“There’snothingelsetosay.”
Hedidnotlookattheladiesashespoke,buthisvoicewasperplexedandsorrowful.
Lucy,too,wasperplexed;
butshesawthattheywereinforwhatisknownas“quiteascene,”andshehadanoddfeelingthatwhenevertheseill-bredtouristsspokethecontestwidenedanddeepenedtillitdealt,notwithroomsandviews,butwith—well,withsomethingquitedifferent,
जिसका
whose
existenceshehadnotrealizedbefore.
NowtheoldmanattackedMissBartlettalmostviolently:
Whyshouldshenotchange?
Whatpossibleobjectionhadshe?
Theywouldclearoutinhalfanhour.
MissBartlett,thoughskilledinthedelicaciesofconversation,waspowerlessinthepresenceofbrutality.
Itwas
असंभव
impossible
tosnubanyonesogross.
Herfacereddenedwithdispleasure.
Shelookedaroundasmuchastosay,“Areyoualllikethis?”
Andtwolittleoldladies,whoweresittingfurtherupthe
मेज
table
,withshawlshangingoverthebacksofthechairs,lookedback,clearlyindicating“Wearenot;
wearegenteel.”
“Eatyourdinner,dear,”shesaidtoLucy,andbegantotoyagainwiththe
मांस
meat
thatshehadoncecensured.
Lucymumbledthatthoseseemedveryoddpeopleopposite.
“Eatyourdinner,dear.
Thispensionisafailure.
To-morrowwewillmakeachange.”
Hardlyhadsheannouncedthisfelldecisionwhenshereversedit.
Thecurtainsattheendoftheroomparted,andrevealedaclergyman,stoutbutattractive,whohurried
आगे
forward
totakehisplaceatthe
मेज
table
,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.
Lucy,whohadnotyetacquireddecency,atoncerosetoherfeet,exclaiming:
“Oh,oh!
Why,it’sMr.Beebe!
Oh,howperfectly
प्यारा
lovely
!
Oh,Charlotte,wemuststopnow,
हालांकि
however
badtheroomsare.
Oh!”
MissBartlettsaid,withmorerestraint:.
“Howdoyoudo,Mr.Beebe?
Iexpectthatyouhaveforgottenus:
MissBartlettandMissHoneychurch,whowereatTunbridgeWellswhenyouhelpedtheVicarofSt.Peter’sthatverycoldEaster.”
Theclergyman,whohadtheairofoneonaholiday,didnotremembertheladiesquiteasclearlyastheyrememberedhim.
Buthecame
आगे
forward
pleasantlyenoughandacceptedthechairintowhichhewasbeckonedbyLucy.
“Iamso
खुशी
glad
toseeyou,”saidthegirl,whowasina
स्थिति
state
ofspiritualstarvation,andwouldhavebeen
खुशी
glad
toseethewaiterifher
चचेरे भाई
cousin
hadpermittedit.
“Justfancyhowsmalltheworldis.
समर
Summer
Street,too,makesitsospeciallyfunny.”
“MissHoneychurchlivesintheparishof
समर
Summer
Street,”saidMissBartlett,fillingupthegap,“andshehappenedtotellmeinthecourseofconversationthatyouhavejustacceptedtheliving—”.
“Yes,Iheardfrommothersolastweek.
Shedidn’tknowthatIknewyouatTunbridgeWells;
butIwrotebackatonce,andIsaid:
‘Mr.
Beebeis—’”.
“Quiteright,”saidtheclergyman.
“ImoveintotheRectoryat
समर
Summer
StreetnextJune.
Iamluckytobeappointedtosuchacharmingneighbourhood.”
“Oh,how
खुशी
glad
Iam!
ThenameofourhouseisWindyCorner.”
Mr.Beebebowed.
“Thereismotherandmegenerally,andmybrother,thoughit’snot
अक्सर
often
wegethimtoch——
The
चर्च
church
isratherfaroff,Imean.”
“Lucy,dearest,letMr.Beebeeathisdinner.”
“Iameatingit,thankyou,andenjoyingit.”
HepreferredtotalktoLucy,
जिसका
whose
playingheremembered,ratherthantoMissBartlett,whoprobablyrememberedhissermons.
HeaskedthegirlwhethersheknewFlorencewell,andwasinformedatsomelengththatshehadneverbeentherebefore.
Itisdelightfultoadviseanewcomer,andhewasfirstinthe
क्षेत्र
field
.
“Don’tneglectthecountryround,”hisadviceconcluded.
“Thefirstfine
दोपहर
afternoon
driveuptoFiesole,androundbySettignano,orsomethingofthatsort.”
“No!”
criedavoicefromthetopofthe
मेज
table
.
“Mr.
Beebe,youarewrong.
Thefirstfine
दोपहर
afternoon
yourladiesmustgotoPrato.”
“Thatladylookssoclever,”whisperedMissBartletttoher
चचेरे भाई
cousin
.
“Weareinluck.”
And,indeed,aperfecttorrentof
जानकारी
information
burstonthem.
Peopletoldthemwhattosee,whentoseeit,howtostoptheelectrictrams,howtoget
छुटकारा
rid
ofthebeggars,howmuchtogiveforavellumblotter,howmuchtheplacewouldgrowuponthem.
ThePensionBertolinihaddecided,almostenthusiastically,thattheywoulddo.
Whicheverwaytheylooked,kindladiessmiledandshoutedatthem.
And
ऊपर
above
allrosethevoiceofthecleverlady,crying:
“Prato!
TheymustgotoPrato.
Thatplaceistoosweetlysqualidforwords.
Iloveit;
Irevelinshakingoffthetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”
TheyoungmannamedGeorgeglancedatthecleverlady,andthenreturnedmoodilytohisplate.
Obviouslyheandhisfatherdidnotdo.
Lucy,inthemidstofhersuccess,foundtimetowishtheydid.
Itgavehernoextra
आनंद
pleasure
thatanyoneshouldbeleftinthecold;
andwhensherosetogo,sheturnedbackandgavethetwooutsidersanervouslittlebow.
Thefatherdidnotseeit;
thesonacknowledgedit,notbyanotherbow,butbyraisinghiseyebrowsandsmiling;
heseemedtobesmilingacrosssomething.
Shehastenedafterher
चचेरे भाई
cousin
,whohadalreadydisappearedthroughthecurtains—curtainswhichsmoteoneintheface,andseemed
भारी
heavy
withmorethancloth.
BeyondthemstoodtheunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,andsupportedby’Enery,herlittleboy,andVictorier,herdaughter.
Itmadeacuriouslittle
दृश्य
scene
,thisattemptoftheCockneytoconveythegraceandgenialityofthe
दक्षिण
South
.
Andevenmorecuriouswasthedrawing-room,whichattemptedtorivalthesolidcomfortofaBloomsburyboarding-house.
WasthisreallyItaly?
MissBartlettwasalreadyseatedonatightlystuffedarm-chair,whichhadthecolourandthecontoursofatomato.
ShewastalkingtoMr.Beebe,andasshespoke,herlongnarrowheaddrovebackwardsandforwards,slowly,regularly,asthoughsheweredemolishingsomeinvisibleobstacle.
“Wearemostgratefultoyou,”shewassaying.
“Thefirsteveningmeanssomuch.
Whenyouarrivedwewereinforapeculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”
Heexpressedhisregret.
“Doyou,byanychance,knowthenameofanoldmanwhosatoppositeusatdinner?”
“Emerson.”
“Isheafriendofyours?”
“Wearefriendly—asoneisinpensions.”
“ThenIwillsaynomore.”
Hepressedherveryslightly,andshesaidmore.
“Iam,asitwere,”sheconcluded,“thechaperonofmyyoungcousin,Lucy,anditwouldbeaseriousthingifIputherunderanobligationtopeopleofwhomweknownothing.
Hismannerwassomewhatunfortunate.
IhopeIactedforthebest.”
“Youactedverynaturally,”saidhe.
Heseemedthoughtful,andafterafewmomentsadded:
“Allthesame,Idon’tthinkmuchharmwouldhavecomeofaccepting.”
“Noharm,ofcourse.
Butwecouldnotbeunderanobligation.”
“Heisratherapeculiarman.”
Againhehesitated,andthensaidgently:
“Ithinkhewouldnottakeadvantageofyouracceptance,
nor
expectyoutoshowgratitude.
Hehasthemerit—ifitisone—ofsayingexactlywhathemeans.
Hehasroomshedoesnotvalue,andhethinksyouwouldvaluethem.
Henomorethoughtofputtingyouunderanobligationthanhethoughtofbeingpolite.
Itissodifficult—atleast,Ifinditdifficult—tounderstandpeoplewhospeakthetruth.”
Lucywaspleased,andsaid:
“Iwashopingthathewasnice;
Idosoalwayshopethatpeoplewillbenice.”
“Ithinkheis;
niceandtiresome.
Idifferfromhimonalmosteverypointofanyimportance,andso,Iexpect—ImaysayIhope—youwilldiffer.
Buthisisa
प्रकार
type
onedisagreeswithratherthandeplores.
Whenhefirstcameherehenotunnaturallyputpeople’sbacksup.
Hehasnotactandnomanners—Idon’tmeanbythatthathehasbadmanners—andhewillnotkeephisopinionstohimself.
WenearlycomplainedabouthimtoourdepressingSignora,butIam
खुशी
glad
tosaywethoughtbetterofit.”
“AmItoconclude,”saidMissBartlett,“thatheisaSocialist?”
Mr.
Beebeacceptedtheconvenientword,notwithoutaslighttwitchingofthelips.
“AndpresumablyhehasbroughtuphissontobeaSocialist,too?”
“IhardlyknowGeorge,forhehasn’tlearnttotalkyet.