Английский язык с Мюриэль Спарк (рассказы)

Within it was a bedroom reaching far back into the house. It was imperially magnificent. It was done in red and gold, I saw a canopied bed, built high, splendidly covered with a scarlet quilt. The pillows were piled up at the head — about four of them, very white. The bed head was deep dark wood, touched with gilt. A golden fringe hung from the canopy. In some ways this bed reminded me of the glowing bed by which van Eyck ennobled the portrait of Jan Arnolfini and his wife. All the rest of the Lublonitsch establishment was scrubbed and polished local wood, but this was a very poetic bed.

The floor of the bedroom was covered with a carpet of red (пол в спальной был покрыт красным ковром; carpet — ковер, покрытие), which was probably crimson (который, возможно, был малинового цвета) but which, against the scarlet of the bed (но который, по сравнению: «против» с алым цветом кровати), looked purple (выглядел багровым). On the walls on either side of the bed (на стенах, с каждой стороны кровати; wall — стена, ограда, барьер) hung Turkish carpets (висели турецкие ковры) whose background was an opulently dull, more ancient red (чей фоновый цвет был пышным неярким, более старомодным красным; dull — тупой, бестолковый, тусклый, скучный; ancient — античный, древний, давновышедшийизмоды) — almost black where the canopy cast its shade (почти черным, там, где балдахин отбрасывал свою тень; to cast — бросать, швырять, кидать; shade — тень, полумрак, прохлада).

I was moved by the sight (я была тронута увиденным: «видом»; tobemoved— не остаться равнодушным, быть тронутым). The girl called Mitzi was watching me (девушка по имени Митци наблюдала за мной; towatch— наблюдать, смотреть) as I stood in the kitchen doorway (пока я стояла в кухонном проходе). "Coffee (кофе)?'' she said.

"Whose room is that (чья это комната)?''

"It's Frau Chef’s room (Это комната госпожи Хозяйки). She sleeps there (она спит там).''

purple ['pq: p(q)l] opulently ['OpjVlqntlI] either ['aIDq]

The floor of the bedroom was covered with a carpet of red which was probably crimson but which, against the scarlet of the bed, looked purple. On the walls on either side of the bed hung Turkish carpets whose background was an opulently dull, more ancient red — almost black where the canopy cast its shade.

I was moved by the sight. The girl called Mitzi was watching me as I stood in the kitchen doorway. "Coffee?'' she said.

"Whose room is that?''

"It's Frau Chef’s room. She sleeps there.''