10 shorts stories by O. Henry. Книга для чтения на английском языке

“If Jim doesn’t kill me,” she said to herself, “before he looks at me a second time, he’ll say I look like a girl who sings and dances for money. But what could I do—oh! What could I do with a dollar and eighty-seven cents?”

At seven, Jim’s dinner was ready for him.

Jim was never late. Della held the watch chain in her hand and sat near the door where he always entered. Then she heard his step in the hall and her face lost color for a moment. She often said little prayers quietly, about simple everyday things.

And now she said: “Please God, make him think I’m still pretty.”|…убеди его, что я всеещекрасива|

The door opened and Jim stepped in. He looked very thin and he was not smiling. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two—and with a family to take care of! |и правда, бедняга – такой молодой, а уже семья, о которой надо заботиться. Of в конце – это частое дело в английском для подобных предложений, правда, обычно такая конструкция появляется в вопросах: who do you think of – о ком ты думаешь? Where are you from – откуда ты?| He needed a new coat and he had nothing to cover his cold hands.

Jim stopped inside the door. He was as quiet as a hunting dog when it is near a bird. His eyes looked strangely at Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not understand. It filled her with fear. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor anything she had been ready for |ни удивление, ни что-то такое, кчемуонабылаготова|. He simply looked at her with that strange expression on his face.

Della went to him.

“Jim, dear,” she cried, “don’t look at me like that. I had my hair cut off |to cut off – отрезать что-то напрочь| and sold it. I couldn’t live through Christmas without giving you a gift. My hair will grow again. You won’t care, will you |ты же не будешь переживать из-за этого|? My hair grows very fast. It’s Christmas, Jim. Let’s be happy. You don’t know what a nice—what a beautiful nice gift I got for you.”

“You’ve cut off your hair?” asked Jim slowly.

He seemed to labor to understand what had happened |казалось, он с трудом переваривал, чтослучалось|. He seemed not to feel sure he knew.

“Cut it off and sold it,” said Della. “Don’t you like me now? I’m me, Jim. I’m the same without my hair.”

Jim looked around the room.

“You say your hair is gone?” he said. |волос больше нет?|

“You don’t have to look for it,” said Della. “It’s sold, I tell you – sold and gone, too. It’s the night before Christmas, boy.