“What other reason has she for writing like that (какие еще у нее причины, чтобы писать так…) —?”
I went out into the road and looked at the cattle (я вышел на дорогу и посмотрел на скот).
“There you are!” said I.
“But it’s his child right enough,” she said.
“I don’t think so,” said I.
“I’m sure of it.”
“Oh well,” I said – “if you prefer to think that way.”
“What other reason has she for writing like that —?”
I went out into the road and looked at the cattle.
“Who is this driving the cows (кто это гонит коров)?” I said. She too came out (она тоже вышла).
“It’s the boy from the next farm (это мальчик с соседней фермы),” she said.
“Oh well,” said I, “those Belgian girls (ох уж эти бельгийские девушки)! You never know where their letters will end (никогда не знаешь, где =
“Oh —!” she cried, with rough scorn (ах! – воскликнула она с грубым презрением) – “it’s not me that bothers (это не я беспокоюсь). But it’s the nasty meanness of it (но эта мерзкая низость). Me writing him such loving letters (я писала ему такие нежные письма…)” – she put her hands before her face and laughed malevolently (она приложила руки к лицу и злобно засмеялась) – “and sending him nice little cakes and bits I thought he’d fancy all the time (и отправляла ему чудесные маленькие пирожные и всё такое прочее, о которых, как я думала, он мечтает всё время;
“It’s the boy from the next farm,” she said.
“Oh well,” said I, “those Belgian girls! You never know where their letters will end. – And after all, it’s his affair – you needn’t bother.”
“Oh —!” she cried, with rough scorn – “it’s not me that bothers. But it’s the nasty meanness of it. Me writing him such loving letters” – she put her hands before her face and laughed malevolently – “and sending him nice little cakes and bits I thought he’d fancy all the time. You bet he fed that gurrl on my things – I know he did. It’s just like him. – I’ll bet they laughed together over my letters. I’ll bet anything they did —”
“Nay (нет),” said I. “He’d burn your letters for fear they’d give him away (он бы сжег ваши письма из страха, что они его выдадут).”