- زمان مطالعه 10 دقیقه
- سطح خیلی سخت
دانلود اپلیکیشن «زیبوک»
این درس را میتوانید به بهترین شکل و با امکانات عالی در اپلیکیشن «زیبوک» بخوانید
متن انگلیسی درس
Chapter 1 The First Meeting
The train rushed along angrily. Guy was thinking about Miriam.
He saw her round pink face, her cruel mouth . . . he started to hate her.
‘Perhaps Miriam doesn’t want a divorce,’ Guy thought unhap pily. ‘But she’s pregnant and it’s not my child, and she must want to marry the father. Why does she want to see me, though? She can get a divorce without that. Perhaps she doesn’t want a divorce, only money.’
Miriam sometimes asked him for money and he always sent it because she was good at making trouble and Guy didn’t want his mother to be unhappy. In Metcalf, Guy’s home town, Miriam pretended that Guy lived in New York so he could succeed as an architect before he sent for her.
Guy thought about his girlfriend Anne and how much he loved her, and about the important job he had in Florida. He felt happy.
‘Soon . . .’ Guy said to himself. ‘Soon . . .’ He started to read his book.
After he had read half a page Guy looked up and saw a young man sitting opposite him. The young man was very tall and thin, and he smiled shyly at Guy as if he did not know whether to speak or not. Guy moved in his seat and accidentally touched the young man’s foot.
‘Sorry,’ Guy said.
‘That’s all right,’ the man said. ‘Say, where are we? Do you know?’
The young man took a small bottle of whisky from his pocket and offered it to Guy with a friendly smile. He had a very large head, his face did not look stupid or intelligent, or young or old. His eyes were red and tired, but his skin was as smooth as a girl’s.
‘No, thanks,’ Guy said.
The young man drank some of the whisky, then he asked, very politely, ‘Where are you going?’
‘Metcalf.’ Guy wanted to read his book.
‘Nice town, Metcalf,’ the young man said. ‘Are you going on business?’
‘Er, yes.’ Guy turned the page of his book.
‘What business?’ the young man asked, like a child.
‘I’m an architect.’
‘That’s interesting,’ he said. He put his hand forward. ‘My name’s Bruno, Charles Anthony Bruno.’
Guy shook his hand. ‘Guy Haines,’ he said.
‘Do you live in New York, Guy?’ Bruno asked.
‘Yes I do.’
‘I live on Long Island,’ Bruno said. ‘I’m going to Santa Fe on holiday.’
Guy wanted to read, or to think, but he could feel this man who wanted to talk all the time looking at him. The train stopped and Guy took a walk outside for some fresh air, but it wasn’t fresh, it was hot and thick. He went back to the train for some dinner.
‘Hello!’ Bruno sat down at Guy’s table. ‘Look, I’ve got a private room. Have dinner with me, that’ll be nice.’
‘No, thanks. I . . .’ Guy said.
‘Yes!’ Bruno said. He stood up quickly. He seemed drunk. He ordered dinner for two in his private room, then he walked away, stepping carefully.
Guy followed him. ‘Why not?’ he thought. ‘He’s someone to talk to.’
Bruno’s room was very untidy. There were clothes, magazines, cigarettes, chocolates everywhere on the floor and the seats. In the middle of the floor Guy saw four big bottles of whisky in a straight line. A waiter brought dinner and they started to eat, and to drink the whisky.
‘What are you going to build in Metcalf, Guy?’ Bruno asked, his mouth full of food.
‘Nothing,’ Guy said. ‘My mother lives in Metcalf, it’s my home.’
Bruno stopped eating. ‘Do you like your mother, Guy?’
‘Your father, too?’
‘He’s dead,’ Guy said.
‘Oh. Yeah, I like my mother, too,’ Bruno said. ‘She’s coming to Santa Fe. We do everything together.’ Bruno stopped suddenly. ‘Do you think that’s strange?’
‘No,’ Guy said.
‘Mother gives me money,’ Bruno said. He lit a cigarette and drank more whisky. ‘Father never gives me anything. He’s rich, too!’ Bruno shouted. ‘I want my own money!’
Then Bruno laughed. ‘Father would like you, Guy. You’re good and quiet, and you’ve got a good job, too. Me? I don’t want to work. Why should I? I don’t feel like it.’ Bruno laughed again. ‘Father wants me to go into his business. Like Hell I will!’ Bruno pushed his cigarette into the dish of butter next to his plate. ‘He never gives me money — I know he doesn’t like me. I don’t like him. You know, Guy, sometimes, I could kill him.’
Bruno looked at Guy. ‘Did you ever want to murder someone, Guy?’
Guy wasn’t listening, he was thinking about Anne and Miriam and Florida. It was all mixed up in his head.
‘Tell me about you, Guy,’ Bruno asked. ‘What kind of things do you build?’
‘What?’ Guy tried to think. ‘Oh, houses, offices . . .’
Are you married, Guy?’
‘No. Yes. Er, well, I’m separated. I left three years ago,’ Guy said.
He didn’t want to tell Bruno these things.
‘Oh? Why is that, Guy?’
‘I think we were too young
‘Do you love her?’ Bruno’s eyes weren’t tired now. They were bright and looked straight at Guy. ‘You take love seriously, don’t you, Guy?’
Guy didn’t answer this.
‘What kind of girl is your wife?’ Bruno asked.
‘She’s pretty, red hair, a little fat,’ Guy said. ‘We’re going to get a divorce,’ he said.
‘Why? Why now? Why not before?’ Bruno’s eyes were very bright.
‘She’s pregnant,’ Guy said. He didn’t like saying it.
‘Oh, boy!’ Bruno said. ‘I hate women like that, don’t you?’
‘Well, no . . . I,’ Guy said. ‘It happens.’
Bruno pulled the cigarette in and out of the butter. ‘Men go to women like her like flies go to rubbish,’ he said. ‘What’s her name?’
‘Miriam, Miriam Joyce.’ Guy tried to change the subject. ‘Well, Bruno,’ he said. ‘If you don’t want to work, what do you want to do?’
‘I think a man needs to try everything once. You know, every thing — travel, and women, and, uh, robbery . . . and murder.’ He stopped and looked at Guy with a worried face. ‘Did you ever want to kill someone, Guy?’
‘No.’ Guy was starting to feel drunk.
Bruno picked up another bottle of whisky and tried to open it.
‘You know, Guy, the police don’t catch most murderers.’ He was very drunk and the top of the bottle flew off. Whisky went all over the floor.
‘Really?’ Guy said.
‘No, they don’t.’ Bruno drank from the bottle. ‘Come to Santa Fe with me, Guy! I like you!’
‘I can’t,’ Guy said ‘After Metcalf, I have to go to Florida. I’m going to build a sports club there.’
‘Oh, Guy!’ Bruno looked at him the way a little boy looks at his father. ‘That’s great. You must be very good.’
Guy smiled, ‘Well, thanks
‘But,’ Bruno said, ‘if Miriam makes trouble now — about the divorce - if she came to Florida, Guy, well, you could lose the job, couldn’t you?’
Guy thought, ‘That’s the kind of thing Miriam would do.’
‘You could murder her for that, couldn’t you, Guy?’
‘No,’ he said.
‘I could make a plan for murdering your wife, Guy,’ Bruno said.
‘You might want to use it some time.’
‘Oh, Guy!’ Bruno stood up suddenly and waved the bottle about.
‘Oh!’ he shouted. ‘Guy! I just thought. Oh, yes! You murder my father and I’ll murder Miriam. The police will never find us. We’re strangers, we met on a train and nobody knows we’re friends. It’s perfect.’
Now the room was a little Hell. It was very hot, Bruno’s face was red and his mouth was wide open, shouting, shouting.
‘No, no!’ Guy said. He ran out of the room, then he opened one of the windows and breathed in the cold night air.
‘Guy?’ Bruno stood behind him and put his hand on Guy’s back.
‘I’m sorry.’ Guy pulled away from him. ‘Oh, please, Guy.’ He was like a dog.
‘It’s all right,’ Guy said. ‘Let’s forget it.’
‘O K, thanks.’ Bruno smiled. ‘Do you want another drink?’
‘No, I’m going to bed,’ Guy said.
Before he went to sleep Guy remembered that his book was still in Bruno’s room. He didn’t go back for it. He never wanted to see Bruno again.
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