【有声英语文学名著】夜色温柔 Book 2(17)
时间:2019-01-26 作者:英语课 分类:有声英语文学名著
英语课
Tender Is the Night - Book Two
by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Chapter 17
Tommy Barban was a ruler, Tommy was a hero—Dick happened upon him in the Marienplatz in Munich, in one of those cafés, where small gamblers diced 1 on "tapestry 2" mats. The air was full of politics, and the slap of cards.
Tommy was at a table laughing his martial 3 laugh: "Um-buh—ha-ha! Um-buh—ha-ha!" As a rule, he drank little; courage was his game and his companions were always a little afraid of him. Recently an eighth of the area of his skull 4 had been removed by a Warsaw surgeon and was knitting under his hair, and the weakest person in the café could have killed him with a flip 5 of a knotted napkin.
"—this is Prince Chillicheff—" A battered 6, powder-gray Russian of fifty, "—and Mr. McKibben—and Mr. Hannan—" the latter was a lively ball of black eyes and hair, a clown; and he said immediately to Dick:
"The first thing before we shake hands—what do you mean by fooling around with my aunt?"
"Why, I—"
"You heard me. What are you doing here in Munich anyhow?"
"Um-bah—ha-ha!" laughed Tommy.
"Haven't you got aunts of your own? Why don't you fool with them?"
Dick laughed, whereupon the man shifted his attack:
"Now let's not have any more talk about aunts. How do I know you didn't make up the whole thing? Here you are a complete stranger with an acquaintance of less than half an hour, and you come up to me with a cock-and-bull story about your aunts. How do I know what you have concealed 7 about you?"
Tommy laughed again, then he said good-naturedly, but firmly, "That's enough, Carly. Sit down, Dick—how're you? How's Nicole?"
He did not like any man very much nor feel their presence with much intensity—he was all relaxed for combat; as a fine athlete playing secondary defense 8 in any sport is really resting much of the time, while a lesser 9 man only pretends to rest and is at a continual and self-destroying nervous tension.
Hannan, not entirely 10 suppressed, moved to an adjoining piano, and with recurring 11 resentment 12 on his face whenever he looked at Dick, played chords, from time to time muttering, "Your aunts," and, in a dying cadence 13, "I didn't say aunts anyhow. I said pants."
"Well, how're you?" repeated Tommy. "You don't look so—" he fought for a word, "—so jaunty 14 as you used to, so spruce, you know what I mean."
The remark sounded too much like one of those irritating accusations 15 of waning 17 vitality 18 and Dick was about to retort by commenting on the extraordinary suits worn by Tommy and Prince Chillicheff, suits of a cut and pattern fantastic enough to have sauntered down Beale Street on a Sunday—when an explanation was forthcoming.
"I see you are regarding our clothes," said the Prince. "We have just come out of Russia."
"These were made in Poland by the court tailor," said Tommy. "That's a fact—Pilsudski's own tailor."
"You've been touring?" Dick asked.
They laughed, the Prince inordinately 19 meanwhile clapping Tommy on the back.
"Yes, we have been touring. That's it, touring. We have made the grand Tour of all the Russias. In state."
Dick waited for an explanation. It came from Mr. McKibben in two words.
"They escaped."
"Have you been prisoners in Russia?"
"It was I," explained Prince Chillicheff, his dead yellow eyes staring at Dick. "Not a prisoner but in hiding."
"Did you have much trouble getting out?"
"Some trouble. We left three Red Guards dead at the border. Tommy left two—" He held up two fingers like a Frenchman—"I left one."
"That's the part I don't understand," said Mr. McKibben. "Why they should have objected to your leaving."
Hannan turned from the piano and said, winking 20 at the others: "Mac thinks a Marxian is somebody who went to St. Mark's school."
It was an escape story in the best tradition—an aristocrat 21 hiding nine years with a former servant and working in a government bakery; the eighteen-year-old daughter in Paris who knew Tommy Barban… . During the narrative 22 Dick decided 23 that this parched 24 papier mâché relic 25 of the past was scarcely worth the lives of three young men. The question arose as to whether Tommy and Chillicheff had been frightened.
"When I was cold," Tommy said. "I always get scared when I'm cold. During the war I was always frightened when I was cold."
McKibben stood up.
"I must leave. To-morrow morning I'm going to Innsbruck by car with my wife and children—and the governess."
"I'm going there to-morrow, too," said Dick.
"Oh, are you?" exclaimed McKibben. "Why not come with us? It's a big Packard and there's only my wife and my children and myself—and the governess—"
"I can't possibly—"
"Of course she's not really a governess," McKibben concluded, looking rather pathetically at Dick. "As a matter of fact my wife knows your sister-in-law, Baby Warren."
But Dick was not to be drawn 26 in a blind contract.
"I've promised to travel with two men."
"Oh," McKibben's face fell. "Well, I'll say good-by." He unscrewed two blooded wire-hairs from a nearby table and departed; Dick pictured the jammed Packard pounding toward Innsbruck with the McKibbens and their children and their baggage and yapping dogs—and the governess.
"The paper says they know the man who killed him," said Tommy. "But his cousins did not want it in the papers, because it happened in a speakeasy. What do you think of that?"
"It's what's known as family pride."
Hannan played a loud chord on the piano to attract attention to himself.
"I don't believe his first stuff holds up," he said. "Even barring the Europeans there are a dozen Americans can do what North did."
It was the first indication Dick had had that they were talking about Abe North.
"The only difference is that Abe did it first," said Tommy.
"I don't agree," persisted Hannan. "He got the reputation for being a good musician because he drank so much that his friends had to explain him away somehow—"
"What's this about Abe North? What about him? Is he in a jam?"
"Didn't you read The Herald 27 this morning?"
"No."
"He's dead. He was beaten to death in a speakeasy in New York. He just managed to crawl home to the Racquet Club to die—"
"Abe North?"
"Yes, sure, they—"
"Abe North?" Dick stood up. "Are you sure he's dead?"
Hannan turned around to McKibben: "It wasn't the Racquet Club he crawled to—it was the Harvard Club. I'm sure he didn't belong to the Racquet."
"The paper said so," McKibben insisted.
"It must have been a mistake. I'm quite sure."
"Beaten to death in a speakeasy."
"But I happen to know most of the members of the Racquet Club," said Hannan. "It must have been the Harvard Club."
Dick got up, Tommy too. Prince Chillicheff started out of a wan 16 study of nothing, perhaps of his chances of ever getting out of Russia, a study that had occupied him so long that it was doubtful if he could give it up immediately, and joined them in leaving.
"Abe North beaten to death."
On the way to the hotel, a journey of which Dick was scarcely aware, Tommy said:
"We're waiting for a tailor to finish some suits so we can get to Paris. I'm going into stock-broking and they wouldn't take me if I showed up like this. Everybody in your country is making millions. Are you really leaving to-morrow? We can't even have dinner with you. It seems the Prince had an old girl in Munich. He called her up but she'd been dead five years and we're having dinner with the two daughters."
The Prince nodded.
"Perhaps I could have arranged for Doctor Diver."
"No, no," said Dick hastily.
He slept deep and awoke to a slow mournful march passing his window. It was a long column of men in uniform, wearing the familiar helmet of 1914, thick men in frock coats and silk hats, burghers, aristocrats 28, plain men. It was a society of veterans going to lay wreaths on the tombs of the dead. The column marched slowly with a sort of swagger for a lost magnificence, a past effort, a forgotten sorrow. The faces were only formally sad but Dick's lungs burst for a moment with regret for Abe's death, and his own youth of ten years ago.
by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Chapter 17
Tommy Barban was a ruler, Tommy was a hero—Dick happened upon him in the Marienplatz in Munich, in one of those cafés, where small gamblers diced 1 on "tapestry 2" mats. The air was full of politics, and the slap of cards.
Tommy was at a table laughing his martial 3 laugh: "Um-buh—ha-ha! Um-buh—ha-ha!" As a rule, he drank little; courage was his game and his companions were always a little afraid of him. Recently an eighth of the area of his skull 4 had been removed by a Warsaw surgeon and was knitting under his hair, and the weakest person in the café could have killed him with a flip 5 of a knotted napkin.
"—this is Prince Chillicheff—" A battered 6, powder-gray Russian of fifty, "—and Mr. McKibben—and Mr. Hannan—" the latter was a lively ball of black eyes and hair, a clown; and he said immediately to Dick:
"The first thing before we shake hands—what do you mean by fooling around with my aunt?"
"Why, I—"
"You heard me. What are you doing here in Munich anyhow?"
"Um-bah—ha-ha!" laughed Tommy.
"Haven't you got aunts of your own? Why don't you fool with them?"
Dick laughed, whereupon the man shifted his attack:
"Now let's not have any more talk about aunts. How do I know you didn't make up the whole thing? Here you are a complete stranger with an acquaintance of less than half an hour, and you come up to me with a cock-and-bull story about your aunts. How do I know what you have concealed 7 about you?"
Tommy laughed again, then he said good-naturedly, but firmly, "That's enough, Carly. Sit down, Dick—how're you? How's Nicole?"
He did not like any man very much nor feel their presence with much intensity—he was all relaxed for combat; as a fine athlete playing secondary defense 8 in any sport is really resting much of the time, while a lesser 9 man only pretends to rest and is at a continual and self-destroying nervous tension.
Hannan, not entirely 10 suppressed, moved to an adjoining piano, and with recurring 11 resentment 12 on his face whenever he looked at Dick, played chords, from time to time muttering, "Your aunts," and, in a dying cadence 13, "I didn't say aunts anyhow. I said pants."
"Well, how're you?" repeated Tommy. "You don't look so—" he fought for a word, "—so jaunty 14 as you used to, so spruce, you know what I mean."
The remark sounded too much like one of those irritating accusations 15 of waning 17 vitality 18 and Dick was about to retort by commenting on the extraordinary suits worn by Tommy and Prince Chillicheff, suits of a cut and pattern fantastic enough to have sauntered down Beale Street on a Sunday—when an explanation was forthcoming.
"I see you are regarding our clothes," said the Prince. "We have just come out of Russia."
"These were made in Poland by the court tailor," said Tommy. "That's a fact—Pilsudski's own tailor."
"You've been touring?" Dick asked.
They laughed, the Prince inordinately 19 meanwhile clapping Tommy on the back.
"Yes, we have been touring. That's it, touring. We have made the grand Tour of all the Russias. In state."
Dick waited for an explanation. It came from Mr. McKibben in two words.
"They escaped."
"Have you been prisoners in Russia?"
"It was I," explained Prince Chillicheff, his dead yellow eyes staring at Dick. "Not a prisoner but in hiding."
"Did you have much trouble getting out?"
"Some trouble. We left three Red Guards dead at the border. Tommy left two—" He held up two fingers like a Frenchman—"I left one."
"That's the part I don't understand," said Mr. McKibben. "Why they should have objected to your leaving."
Hannan turned from the piano and said, winking 20 at the others: "Mac thinks a Marxian is somebody who went to St. Mark's school."
It was an escape story in the best tradition—an aristocrat 21 hiding nine years with a former servant and working in a government bakery; the eighteen-year-old daughter in Paris who knew Tommy Barban… . During the narrative 22 Dick decided 23 that this parched 24 papier mâché relic 25 of the past was scarcely worth the lives of three young men. The question arose as to whether Tommy and Chillicheff had been frightened.
"When I was cold," Tommy said. "I always get scared when I'm cold. During the war I was always frightened when I was cold."
McKibben stood up.
"I must leave. To-morrow morning I'm going to Innsbruck by car with my wife and children—and the governess."
"I'm going there to-morrow, too," said Dick.
"Oh, are you?" exclaimed McKibben. "Why not come with us? It's a big Packard and there's only my wife and my children and myself—and the governess—"
"I can't possibly—"
"Of course she's not really a governess," McKibben concluded, looking rather pathetically at Dick. "As a matter of fact my wife knows your sister-in-law, Baby Warren."
But Dick was not to be drawn 26 in a blind contract.
"I've promised to travel with two men."
"Oh," McKibben's face fell. "Well, I'll say good-by." He unscrewed two blooded wire-hairs from a nearby table and departed; Dick pictured the jammed Packard pounding toward Innsbruck with the McKibbens and their children and their baggage and yapping dogs—and the governess.
"The paper says they know the man who killed him," said Tommy. "But his cousins did not want it in the papers, because it happened in a speakeasy. What do you think of that?"
"It's what's known as family pride."
Hannan played a loud chord on the piano to attract attention to himself.
"I don't believe his first stuff holds up," he said. "Even barring the Europeans there are a dozen Americans can do what North did."
It was the first indication Dick had had that they were talking about Abe North.
"The only difference is that Abe did it first," said Tommy.
"I don't agree," persisted Hannan. "He got the reputation for being a good musician because he drank so much that his friends had to explain him away somehow—"
"What's this about Abe North? What about him? Is he in a jam?"
"Didn't you read The Herald 27 this morning?"
"No."
"He's dead. He was beaten to death in a speakeasy in New York. He just managed to crawl home to the Racquet Club to die—"
"Abe North?"
"Yes, sure, they—"
"Abe North?" Dick stood up. "Are you sure he's dead?"
Hannan turned around to McKibben: "It wasn't the Racquet Club he crawled to—it was the Harvard Club. I'm sure he didn't belong to the Racquet."
"The paper said so," McKibben insisted.
"It must have been a mistake. I'm quite sure."
"Beaten to death in a speakeasy."
"But I happen to know most of the members of the Racquet Club," said Hannan. "It must have been the Harvard Club."
Dick got up, Tommy too. Prince Chillicheff started out of a wan 16 study of nothing, perhaps of his chances of ever getting out of Russia, a study that had occupied him so long that it was doubtful if he could give it up immediately, and joined them in leaving.
"Abe North beaten to death."
On the way to the hotel, a journey of which Dick was scarcely aware, Tommy said:
"We're waiting for a tailor to finish some suits so we can get to Paris. I'm going into stock-broking and they wouldn't take me if I showed up like this. Everybody in your country is making millions. Are you really leaving to-morrow? We can't even have dinner with you. It seems the Prince had an old girl in Munich. He called her up but she'd been dead five years and we're having dinner with the two daughters."
The Prince nodded.
"Perhaps I could have arranged for Doctor Diver."
"No, no," said Dick hastily.
He slept deep and awoke to a slow mournful march passing his window. It was a long column of men in uniform, wearing the familiar helmet of 1914, thick men in frock coats and silk hats, burghers, aristocrats 28, plain men. It was a society of veterans going to lay wreaths on the tombs of the dead. The column marched slowly with a sort of swagger for a lost magnificence, a past effort, a forgotten sorrow. The faces were only formally sad but Dick's lungs burst for a moment with regret for Abe's death, and his own youth of ten years ago.
v.将…切成小方块,切成丁( dice的过去式和过去分词 )
- The meat should be finely diced for this dish. 做这种菜肴肉必须细细切成小方块。 来自辞典例句
- Arther diced himself into debt. 亚瑟因掷骰子而负了债。 来自辞典例句
n.挂毯,丰富多采的画面
- How about this artistic tapestry and this cloisonne vase?这件艺术挂毯和这个景泰蓝花瓶怎么样?
- The wall of my living room was hung with a tapestry.我的起居室的墙上挂着一块壁毯。
adj.战争的,军事的,尚武的,威武的
- The sound of martial music is always inspiring.军乐声总是鼓舞人心的。
- The officer was convicted of desertion at a court martial.这名军官在军事法庭上被判犯了擅离职守罪。
n.头骨;颅骨
- The skull bones fuse between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five.头骨在15至25岁之间长合。
- He fell out of the window and cracked his skull.他从窗子摔了出去,跌裂了颅骨。
vt.快速翻动;轻抛;轻拍;n.轻抛;adj.轻浮的
- I had a quick flip through the book and it looked very interesting.我很快翻阅了一下那本书,看来似乎很有趣。
- Let's flip a coin to see who pays the bill.咱们来抛硬币决定谁付钱。
adj.磨损的;v.连续猛击;磨损
- He drove up in a battered old car.他开着一辆又老又破的旧车。
- The world was brutally battered but it survived.这个世界遭受了惨重的创伤,但它还是生存下来了。
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的
- The paintings were concealed beneath a thick layer of plaster. 那些画被隐藏在厚厚的灰泥层下面。
- I think he had a gun concealed about his person. 我认为他当时身上藏有一支枪。
n.防御,保卫;[pl.]防务工事;辩护,答辩
- The accused has the right to defense.被告人有权获得辩护。
- The war has impacted the area with military and defense workers.战争使那个地区挤满了军队和防御工程人员。
adj.次要的,较小的;adv.较小地,较少地
- Kept some of the lesser players out.不让那些次要的球员参加联赛。
- She has also been affected,but to a lesser degree.她也受到波及,但程度较轻。
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地
- The fire was entirely caused by their neglect of duty. 那场火灾完全是由于他们失职而引起的。
- His life was entirely given up to the educational work. 他的一生统统献给了教育工作。
adj.往复的,再次发生的
- This kind of problem is recurring often. 这类问题经常发生。
- For our own country, it has been a time for recurring trial. 就我们国家而言,它经过了一个反复考验的时期。
n.怨愤,忿恨
- All her feelings of resentment just came pouring out.她一股脑儿倾吐出所有的怨恨。
- She cherished a deep resentment under the rose towards her employer.她暗中对她的雇主怀恨在心。
n.(说话声调的)抑扬顿挫
- He delivered his words in slow,measured cadences.他讲话缓慢而抑扬顿挫、把握有度。
- He liked the relaxed cadence of his retired life.他喜欢退休生活的悠闲的节奏。
adj.愉快的,满足的;adv.心满意足地,洋洋得意地;n.心满意足;洋洋得意
- She cocked her hat at a jaunty angle.她把帽子歪戴成俏皮的样子。
- The happy boy walked with jaunty steps.这个快乐的孩子以轻快活泼的步子走着。
n.指责( accusation的名词复数 );指控;控告;(被告发、控告的)罪名
- There were accusations of plagiarism. 曾有过关于剽窃的指控。
- He remained unruffled by their accusations. 对于他们的指控他处之泰然。
(wide area network)广域网
- The shared connection can be an Ethernet,wireless LAN,or wireless WAN connection.提供共享的网络连接可以是以太网、无线局域网或无线广域网。
adj.(月亮)渐亏的,逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 );(月)亏;变小;变暗淡
- Her enthusiasm for the whole idea was waning rapidly. 她对整个想法的热情迅速冷淡了下来。
- The day is waning and the road is ending. 日暮途穷。 来自《现代汉英综合大词典》
n.活力,生命力,效力
- He came back from his holiday bursting with vitality and good health.他度假归来之后,身强体壮,充满活力。
- He is an ambitious young man full of enthusiasm and vitality.他是个充满热情与活力的有远大抱负的青年。
adv.无度地,非常地
- But if you are determined to accumulate wealth, it isn't inordinately difficult. 不过,如果你下决心要积累财富,事情也不是太难。 来自互联网
- She was inordinately smart. 她非常聪明。 来自互联网
n.瞬眼,目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 );递眼色(表示友好或高兴等);(指光)闪烁;闪亮
- Anyone can do it; it's as easy as winking. 这谁都办得到,简直易如反掌。 来自《现代汉英综合大词典》
- The stars were winking in the clear sky. 星星在明亮的天空中闪烁。 来自《简明英汉词典》
n.贵族,有贵族气派的人,上层人物
- He was the quintessential english aristocrat.他是典型的英国贵族。
- He is an aristocrat to the very marrow of his bones.他是一个道道地地的贵族。
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的
- He was a writer of great narrative power.他是一位颇有记述能力的作家。
- Neither author was very strong on narrative.两个作者都不是很善于讲故事。
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的
- This gave them a decided advantage over their opponents.这使他们比对手具有明显的优势。
- There is a decided difference between British and Chinese way of greeting.英国人和中国人打招呼的方式有很明显的区别。
adj.焦干的;极渴的;v.(使)焦干
- Hot winds parched the crops.热风使庄稼干透了。
- The land in this region is rather dry and parched.这片土地十分干燥。
n.神圣的遗物,遗迹,纪念物
- This stone axe is a relic of ancient times.这石斧是古代的遗物。
- He found himself thinking of the man as a relic from the past.他把这个男人看成是过去时代的人物。
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的
- All the characters in the story are drawn from life.故事中的所有人物都取材于生活。
- Her gaze was drawn irresistibly to the scene outside.她的目光禁不住被外面的风景所吸引。
vt.预示...的来临,预告,宣布,欢迎
- In England, the cuckoo is the herald of spring.在英国杜鹃鸟是报春的使者。
- Dawn is the herald of day.曙光是白昼的先驱。
n.贵族( aristocrat的名词复数 )
- Many aristocrats were killed in the French Revolution. 许多贵族在法国大革命中被处死。 来自《简明英汉词典》
- To the Guillotine all aristocrats! 把全部贵族都送上断头台! 来自英汉文学 - 双城记