75 лучших рассказов / 75 Best Short Stories

Коллектив авторов

Н. А. Самуэльян

�ностранный язык: учимся у классиков

«�ностранный язык: учимся у классиков» – это только оригинальные тексты лучших произведений мировой литературы. Эти книги станут эффективным и увлекательным пособием для изучающих иностранный язык на хорошем «продолжающем» и «продвинутом» уровне. Они помогут эффективно расширить словарный запас, подскажут, где и как правильно употреблять устойчивые выражения и грамматические конструкции, просто подарят радость от чтения. В конце книги дана краткая информация о культуроведческих, страноведческих, исторических и географических реалиях описываемого периода, которая поможет лучше ориентироваться в текстах произведений.

Серия «�ностранный язык: учимся у классиков» адресована широкому кругу читателей, хорошо владеющих английским языком и стремящихся к его совершенствованию.

Артур Дойль

75 лучших рассказов = 75 Best Short Stories (Сборник рассказов)

My Adventure in Norfolk (A.J. Alan)

I don’t know how it is with you, but during February my wife generally says to me: �Have you thought at all about what we are going to do for August?’ And, of course, I say, �No,’ and then she begins looking through the advertisements of bungalows[1 - bungalows – a bungalow is a small one-storied house with a veranda] to let.

Well, this happened last year, as usual, and she eventually produced one that looked possible. It said: �Norfolk[2 - Norfolk – a historic county on the North Sea coast in eastern England] – Hickling Broad – Furnished Bungalow – Garden – Garage, Boathouse,’ and all the rest of it – Oh – and plate and linen. It also mentioned an exorbitant rent. I pointed out the bit about the rent, but my wife said: �Yes, you’ll have to go down and see the landlord, and get him to come down. They always do.’ As a matter of fact, they always don’t, but that’s a detail.

Anyway, I wrote off to the landlord and asked if he could arrange for me to stay the night in the place to see what it was really like. He wrote back and said: �Certainly,’ and that he was engaging Mrs. So-and-So to come in and �oblige me,’ and make up the beds and so forth.

I tell you, we do things thoroughly – in our family – I have to sleep in all the beds, and when I come home my wife counts the bruises and decides whether they will do or not.

At any rate, I arrived, in a blinding snowstorm, at about the most desolate spot on God’s earth. I’d come to Potter Heigham by train, and been driven on (it was a good five miles from the station). Fortunately, Mrs. Selston, the old lady who was going to �do’ for me, was there, and she’d lighted a fire, and cooked me a steak, for which I was truly thankful.

I somehow think the cow, or whatever they get steaks off, had only died that morning. It was very – er – obstinate. While I dined, she talked to me. She would tell me all about an operation her husband had just had. All about it. It was almost a lecture on surgery. The steak was rather underdone, and it sort of made me feel I was illustrating her lecture. Anyway, she put me clean off my dinner, and then departed for the night.

I explored the bungalow and just had a look out