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A Room with a View | Progressive Translation Books for Norwegian A1-B2 Students

A Room with a View | Progressive Translation Books for Norwegian A1-B2 Students

This progressive translation technique brings multiple benefits to language learners. It lets you choose the difficulty level that matches your abilities, making sure the material is challenging but not too difficult. By focusing on understanding words in context, this method boosts your comprehension skills. While direct translations are slightly hidden to promote guessing from context, you can always check unfamiliar words. This approach makes learning a new language both engaging and accessible, offering the right mix of difficulty and encouragement. Embark on a journey through translated classics and enjoy the process of learning through reading.

ChapterITheBertolini
“TheSignora
hadde
hadnobusinesstodoit,”
sa
saidMissBartlett,“nobusinessatall.
She
lovet
promisedussouthroomswith
en
aviewclosetogether,insteadof
som
whichherearenorthrooms,
ser
lookingintoacourtyard,and
en
alongwayapart.
Oh,Lucy!”
“And
en
aCockney,besides!”
saidLucy,
som
whohadbeenfurthersaddenedbytheSignora’sunexpected
aksent
accent.
“ItmightbeLondon.”
She
så
lookedatthetworowsofEnglish
mennesker
peoplewhoweresittingat
de
thetable;
attherowofwhitebottlesof
vann
waterandredbottlesof
vin
winethatranbetweentheEnglishpeople;
at
den
theportraitsofthelateQueen
og
andthelatePoetLaureatethat
hengt
hungbehindtheEnglishpeople,
tungt
heavilyframed;
atthenoticeof
den
theEnglishchurch(Rev.
CuthbertEager,M.A.
Oxon.),
som
thatwastheonlyother
dekorasjon
decorationofthewall.
“Charlotte,don’tyou
føler
feel,too,thatwemightbeinLondon?
I
kan
canhardlybelievethatallkindsof
andre
otherthingsarejustoutside.
I
antar
supposeitisone’sbeingsotired.”
“Thismeat
har
hassurelybeenusedforsoup,”
sa
saidMissBartlett,layingdownherfork.
“I
vil
wantsotoseetheArno.
TheroomstheSignora
lovet
promisedusinherletter
ville
wouldhavelookedovertheArno.
TheSignora
hadde
hadnobusinesstodoitatall.
Oh,itis
en
ashame!”
“Anynookdoesforme,”MissBartlett
fortsatte
continued;
“butitdoesseem
vanskelig
hardthatyoushouldn’thave
en
aview.”
Lucyfeltthatshe
hadde
hadbeenselfish.
“Charlotte,youmustn’tspoilme:
of
selvfølgelig
course,youmustlookovertheArno,
også
too.
Imeantthat.
The
første
firstvacantroominthefront—”
“You
må
musthaveit,”saidMissBartlett,
del
partofwhosetravellingexpenseswere
betalt
paidbyLucy’smother—apieceofgenerosityto
som
whichshemademanyatactfulallusion.
“No,
nei
no.Youmusthaveit.”
“I
insisterer
insistonit.
Yourmother
ville
wouldneverforgiveme,Lucy.”
“She
ville
wouldneverforgiveme.”
Theladies’voicesgrewanimated,and—if
den
thesadtruthbeowned—alittlepeevish.
Theyweretired,
og
andundertheguiseofunselfishnesstheywrangled.
Noen
Someoftheirneighboursinterchangedglances,
og
andoneofthem—oneof
de
theill-bredpeoplewhomonedoes
møter
meetabroad—leantforwardoverthe
bordet
tableandactuallyintrudedintotheir
argument
argument.
Hesaid:.
“Ihave
en
aview,Ihaveaview.”
Frøken
MissBartlettwasstartled.
Generallyat
en
apensionpeoplelookedthem
over
overforadayor
to
twobeforespeaking,andoftendidnot
finne
findoutthattheywould“do”tillthey
hadde
hadgone.
Sheknewthattheintruderwasill-bred,
selv
evenbeforesheglancedat
ham
him.
Hewasanold
mann
man,ofheavybuild,withafair,shaven
ansikt
faceandlargeeyes.
Therewas
noe
somethingchildishinthoseeyes,
om
thoughitwasnotthechildishnessofsenility.
What
akkurat
exactlyitwasMissBartlettdidnot
stoppe
stoptoconsider,forher
blikk
glancepassedontohisclothes.
Disse
Thesedidnotattracther.
Hewas
sannsynligvis
probablytryingtobecomeacquainted
med
withthembeforetheygotintotheswim.
Soshe
antatt
assumedadazedexpressionwhenhespoketo
henne
her,andthensaid:
“A
utsikt
view?
Oh,aview!
Howdelightful
en
aviewis!”
“Thisismyson,”
sa
saidtheoldman;
“hisname’sGeorge.
He
har
hasaviewtoo.”
“Ah,”
sa
saidMissBartlett,repressingLucy,
som
whowasabouttospeak.
“WhatImean,”he
fortsatte
continued,“isthatyoucan
ha
haveourrooms,andwe’ll
ha
haveyours.
We’llchange.”
The
bedre
betterclassoftouristwas
sjokkert
shockedatthis,andsympathized
med
withthenew-comers.
MissBartlett,in
svar
reply,openedhermouthas
lite
littleaspossible,andsaid“Thankyou
veldig
verymuchindeed;
thatisoutofthequestion.”
“Why?”
sa
saidtheoldman,with
begge
bothfistsonthetable.
“Becauseitis
helt
quiteoutofthequestion,
takk
thankyou.”
“Yousee,wedon’t
liker
liketotake—”
beganLucy.
Her
fetter
cousinagainrepressedher.
“Butwhy?”
he
vedvarte
persisted.
“Womenlikelookingat
en
aview;
mendon’t.”
Andhethumped
med
withhisfistslikeanaughty
barn
child,andturnedtohis
sønnen
son,saying,“George,persuadethem!”
“It’ssoobviousthey
burde
shouldhavetherooms,”saidthe
sønnen
son.
“There’snothingelsetosay.”
Hedidnot
så
lookattheladiesashe
snakket
spoke,buthisvoicewasperplexed
og
andsorrowful.
Lucy,too,wasperplexed;
men
butshesawthattheywereinforwhatis
kjent
knownas“quiteascene,”
og
andshehadanoddfeelingthatwhenever
disse
theseill-bredtouristsspokethe
konkurransen
contestwidenedanddeepenedtillitdealt,not
med
withroomsandviews,butwith—well,
med
withsomethingquitedifferent,whose
eksistens
existenceshehadnotrealized
før
before.
Nowtheoldman
angrepet
attackedMissBartlettalmostviolently:
Hvorfor
Whyshouldshenotchange?
What
mulig
possibleobjectionhadshe?
They
ville
wouldclearoutinhalf
en
anhour.
MissBartlett,thoughskilledinthedelicaciesofconversation,was
maktesløs
powerlessinthepresenceofbrutality.
Itwas
umulig
impossibletosnubanyoneso
grov
gross.
Herfacereddenedwithdispleasure.
She
så
lookedaroundasmuchasto
si
say,“Areyoualllikethis?”
Og
Andtwolittleoldladies,
som
whoweresittingfurtherupthe
bordet
table,withshawlshangingoverthebacksofthechairs,
så
lookedback,clearlyindicating“Wearenot;
wearegenteel.”
“Eatyour
middag
dinner,dear,”shesaidtoLucy,
og
andbegantotoyagain
med
withthemeatthatshe
hadde
hadoncecensured.
Lucymumbled
at
thatthoseseemedveryodd
mennesker
peopleopposite.
“Eatyourdinner,
kjære
dear.
Thispensionisa
fiasko
failure.
To-morrowwewillmake
en
achange.”
Hardlyhadshe
annonsert
announcedthisfelldecisionwhenshe
reverserte
reversedit.
Thecurtainsatthe
enden
endoftheroomparted,
og
andrevealedaclergyman,stout
men
butattractive,whohurriedforwardto
ta
takehisplaceatthe
bordet
table,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.
Lucy,
som
whohadnotyetacquired
anstendighet
decency,atoncerosetoherfeet,exclaiming:
“Oh,oh!
Hvorfor
Why,it’sMr.Beebe!
Oh,
hvor
howperfectlylovely!
Oh,Charlotte,we
må
muststopnow,howeverbadtherooms
er
are.
Oh!”
MissBartlettsaid,
med
withmorerestraint:.
“Howdoyoudo,Mr.Beebe?
I
forventer
expectthatyouhaveforgotten
oss
us:
MissBartlettandMissHoneychurch,whowereatTunbridgeWells
da
whenyouhelpedtheVicarofSt.Peter’sthat
veldig
verycoldEaster.”
Theclergyman,who
hadde
hadtheairofoneona
ferie
holiday,didnotremembertheladies
helt
quiteasclearlyasthey
husket
rememberedhim.
Buthecame
frem
forwardpleasantlyenoughandacceptedthechairinto
som
whichhewasbeckonedbyLucy.
“Iamso
glad
gladtoseeyou,”saidthe
jenta
girl,whowasina
tilstand
stateofspiritualstarvation,and
ville
wouldhavebeengladto
se
seethewaiterifher
fetter
cousinhadpermittedit.
“Justfancy
hvor
howsmalltheworldis.
Summer
Street
Street,too,makesitso
spesielt
speciallyfunny.”
“MissHoneychurchlivesin
de
theparishofSummerStreet,”
sa
saidMissBartlett,fillingup
de
thegap,“andshehappenedtotellmein
de
thecourseofconversationthatyou
har
havejustacceptedtheliving—”.
“Yes,I
hørte
heardfrommothersolast
uke
week.
Shedidn’tknowthatIknewyouatTunbridgeWells;
men
butIwrotebackatonce,
og
andIsaid:
‘Mr.
Beebeis—’”.
“Quiteright,”
sa
saidtheclergyman.
“ImoveintotheRectoryatSummer
Street
StreetnextJune.
Iam
heldig
luckytobeappointedto
så
suchacharmingneighbourhood.”
“Oh,
hvor
howgladIam!
The
navnet
nameofourhouseisWindyCorner.”
Mr.Beebe
bøyde
bowed.
“Thereismotherandme
generelt
generally,andmybrother,thoughit’snot
ofte
oftenwegethimtoch——
The
kirken
churchisratherfaroff,Imean.”
“Lucy,dearest,
la
letMr.Beebeeathisdinner.”
“Iam
spiser
eatingit,thankyou,and
nyter
enjoyingit.”
Hepreferredto
snakke
talktoLucy,whoseplayinghe
husket
remembered,ratherthantoMissBartlett,
som
whoprobablyrememberedhissermons.
He
spurte
askedthegirlwhethershe
kjente
knewFlorencewell,andwas
informert
informedatsomelengththatshe
hadde
hadneverbeentherebefore.
Itisdelightfulto
råd
adviseanewcomer,andhewas
første
firstinthefield.
“Don’t
forsøm
neglectthecountryround,”his
råd
adviceconcluded.
“Thefirstfineafternoon
kjører
driveuptoFiesole,and
rundt
roundbySettignano,orsomethingofthatsort.”
“No!”
cried
en
avoicefromthetopofthe
bordet
table.
“Mr.
Beebe,youare
feil
wrong.
Thefirstfineafternoonyourladies
må
mustgotoPrato.”
“That
damen
ladylookssoclever,”whispered
Frøken
MissBartletttohercousin.
“Weareinluck.”
Og
And,indeed,aperfecttorrentof
informasjon
informationburstonthem.
People
fortalte
toldthemwhattosee,
når
whentoseeit,howto
stoppe
stoptheelectrictrams,howto
bli
getridofthebeggars,how
mye
muchtogiveforavellumblotter,how
mye
muchtheplacewouldgrowupon
dem
them.
ThePensionBertolinihaddecided,
nesten
almostenthusiastically,thattheywould
gjøre
do.
Whicheverwaytheylooked,kindladiessmiled
og
andshoutedatthem.
And
over
aboveallrosethevoiceof
den
thecleverlady,crying:
“Prato!
They
må
mustgotoPrato.
That
stedet
placeistoosweetlysqualidforwords.
I
elsker
loveit;
Irevelin
riste
shakingoffthetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”
Den
TheyoungmannamedGeorgeglancedat
den
thecleverlady,andthen
returnerte
returnedmoodilytohisplate.
Åpenbart
Obviouslyheandhisfather
gjorde
didnotdo.
Lucy,inthemidstofher
suksess
success,foundtimetowishthey
gjorde
did.
Itgaveherno
ekstra
extrapleasurethatanyone
skulle
shouldbeleftinthe
kulden
cold;
andwhensheroseto
gå
go,sheturnedbackandgave
de
thetwooutsidersanervous
liten
littlebow.
Thefatherdidnot
så
seeit;
thesonacknowledged
det
it,notbyanotherbow,
men
butbyraisinghiseyebrows
og
andsmiling;
heseemedtobe
smile
smilingacrosssomething.
Shehastened
etter
afterhercousin,whohad
allerede
alreadydisappearedthroughthecurtains—curtainswhichsmote
en
oneintheface,and
virket
seemedheavywithmorethancloth.
Beyondthemstood
den
theunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,
og
andsupportedby’Enery,her
lille
littleboy,andVictorier,her
datter
daughter.
Itmadeacurious
liten
littlescene,thisattemptoftheCockneyto
formidle
conveythegraceandgenialityofthe
Sør
South.
Andevenmorecuriouswas
den
thedrawing-room,whichattemptedtorival
den
thesolidcomfortofaBloomsburyboarding-house.
Was
dette
thisreallyItaly?
MissBartlettwas
allerede
alreadyseatedonatightlystuffedarm-chair,
som
whichhadthecolourandthecontoursof
en
atomato.
ShewastalkingtoMr.Beebe,
og
andasshespoke,herlong
smale
narrowheaddrovebackwardsandforwards,
sakte
slowly,regularly,asthoughshewere
rive
demolishingsomeinvisibleobstacle.
“Wearemostgratefultoyou,”shewas
sa
saying.
“Thefirsteveningmeansso
mye
much.
Whenyouarrivedwewereinfor
en
apeculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”
He
uttrykte
expressedhisregret.
“Doyou,byany
tilfeldighet
chance,knowthenameof
en
anoldmanwhosat
overfor
oppositeusatdinner?”
“Emerson.”
“Ishe
en
afriendofyours?”
“Wearefriendly—as
man
oneisinpensions.”
“ThenI
vil
willsaynomore.”
Hepressedher
veldig
veryslightly,andshesaid
mer
more.
“Iam,asitwere,”she
konkluderte
concluded,“thechaperonofmy
unge
youngcousin,Lucy,andit
ville
wouldbeaseriousthingifI
setter
putherunderanobligationto
folk
peopleofwhomweknow
ingenting
nothing.
Hismannerwassomewhat
uheldig
unfortunate.
IhopeIactedfor
den
thebest.”
“Youactedverynaturally,”
sa
saidhe.
Heseemedthoughtful,
og
andafterafewmoments
lagt
added:
“Allthesame,Idon’t
tror
thinkmuchharmwouldhavecomeofaccepting.”
“No
skade
harm,ofcourse.
Butwe
kunne
couldnotbeunderanobligation.”
“Heis
ganske
ratherapeculiarman.”
Againhe
nølte
hesitated,andthensaidgently:
“I
tror
thinkhewouldnottakeadvantageofyour
aksept
acceptance,norexpectyouto
vise
showgratitude.
Hehasthemerit—ifitisone—of
si
sayingexactlywhathemeans.
He
har
hasroomshedoesnotvalue,
og
andhethinksyouwouldvalue
dem
them.
Henomorethoughtof
sette
puttingyouunderanobligation
enn
thanhethoughtofbeing
høflig
polite.
Itissodifficult—atleast,I
finner
finditdifficult—tounderstandpeople
som
whospeakthetruth.”
Lucywaspleased,
og
andsaid:
“Iwashoping
at
thathewasnice;
I
gjør
dosoalwayshopethat
folk
peoplewillbenice.”
“I
tror
thinkheis;
niceand
kjedelig
tiresome.
Idifferfromhimon
nesten
almosteverypointofany
betydning
importance,andso,Iexpect—I
kan
maysayIhope—youwill
forskjellig
differ.
Buthisisa
type
typeonedisagreeswithrather
enn
thandeplores.
Whenhefirst
kom
cameherehenotunnaturally
sette
putpeople’sbacksup.
He
har
hasnotactandnomanners—Idon’t
mener
meanbythatthathe
har
hasbadmanners—andhewillnot
holde
keephisopinionstohimself.
We
nesten
nearlycomplainedabouthimtoour
deprimerende
depressingSignora,butIam
glad
gladtosaywethought
bedre
betterofit.”
“AmItoconclude,”
sa
saidMissBartlett,“thatheis
en
aSocialist?”
Mr.
Beebeacceptedtheconvenient
ordet
word,notwithoutaslighttwitchingofthelips.
“And
antagelig
presumablyhehasbroughtuphis
sønn
sontobeaSocialist,too?”
“I
knapt
hardlyknowGeorge,forhehasn’t
lært
learnttotalkyet.