Лучшие истории о любви / Best love stories

Although the watch was grand, he sometimes looked at it on the sly[4 - on the sly – украдкой] because of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.

When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason.[5 - her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason – её возбуждённость уступила место предусмотрительности и благоразумию] She got out her curling irons[6 - curling irons – щипцы для завивки волос] and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love.

Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy.[7 - truant schoolboy – школьник, прогуливающий уроки] She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

“If Jim doesn’t kill me,” she said to herself, “before he takes a second look at me, he’ll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl.[8 - Coney Island chorus girl – хористка с Кони-Айленда] But what could I do – oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty-seven cents?”

At 7 o’clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.

[9 - chops – мясные котлеты (куски мяса на кости)]

Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment.

She had a habit of saying little silent prayers about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: “Please, God, make him think I am still pretty.”

The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two – and to be burdened with a family![10 - to be burdened with a family – быть обременённым семьёй] He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim stepped inside the door. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her.

It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.

“Jim, darling,” Della cried, “don’t look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold it because I couldn’t have lived through Christmas without giving you a present.