自译 契诃夫短篇小说 谎言(3)
2023-04-28 来源:百合文库
“英子，别犟了。”叶自珍答道，“睁开眼看看吧。你儿子长了脑瘤，他没救了，还是早做准备吧。”
“Nikolay, are you certain you are not mistaken?”
“自珍，你是不是弄错了？”
“Such questions lead to nothing. I am ready to answer as many as you like, but it will make it no better for us.”
“别犟了。你问多少次我也是这句话，就别再自欺欺人了。”
Olga Ivanovna pressed her face into the window curtains, and began weeping bitterly. The doctor got up and walked several times up and down the drawing-room, then went to the weeping woman, and lightly touched her arm. Judging from his uncertain movements, from the expression of his gloomy face, which looked dark in the dusk of the evening, he wanted to say something.
万紫英把脸埋进窗帘，凄惨地痛哭着。叶大夫站起身，在屋里来回走了几圈，这才走到窗边的泪人身旁，轻轻拽了拽她的胳膊。从他那踌躇不定的动作、阴沉如黄昏的面色不难看出，他一定有话要说。
“Listen, Olga,” he began. “Spare me a minute’s attention; there is something I must ask you. You can’t attend to me now, though. I’ll come later, afterwards. . . .” He sat down again, and sank into thought. The bitter, imploring weeping, like the weeping of a little girl, continued. Without waiting for it to end, Tsvyetkov heaved a sigh and walked out of the drawing-room. He went into the nursery to Misha. The boy was lying on his back as before, staring at one point as though he were listening. The doctor sat down on his bed and felt his pulse.
“Nikolay, are you certain you are not mistaken?”
“自珍，你是不是弄错了？”
“Such questions lead to nothing. I am ready to answer as many as you like, but it will make it no better for us.”
“别犟了。你问多少次我也是这句话，就别再自欺欺人了。”
Olga Ivanovna pressed her face into the window curtains, and began weeping bitterly. The doctor got up and walked several times up and down the drawing-room, then went to the weeping woman, and lightly touched her arm. Judging from his uncertain movements, from the expression of his gloomy face, which looked dark in the dusk of the evening, he wanted to say something.
万紫英把脸埋进窗帘，凄惨地痛哭着。叶大夫站起身，在屋里来回走了几圈，这才走到窗边的泪人身旁，轻轻拽了拽她的胳膊。从他那踌躇不定的动作、阴沉如黄昏的面色不难看出，他一定有话要说。
“Listen, Olga,” he began. “Spare me a minute’s attention; there is something I must ask you. You can’t attend to me now, though. I’ll come later, afterwards. . . .” He sat down again, and sank into thought. The bitter, imploring weeping, like the weeping of a little girl, continued. Without waiting for it to end, Tsvyetkov heaved a sigh and walked out of the drawing-room. He went into the nursery to Misha. The boy was lying on his back as before, staring at one point as though he were listening. The doctor sat down on his bed and felt his pulse.
放荡少妇高潮小说短篇
