My lawyer, Mr Turner, is the only m

My lawyer, Mr Turner, is the only man I know who has seen a ghost. He is a quiet even-tempered man whose life is spent in dealing with facts. He is the last person in the world to give way to fantasy. He has a wife and two children of whom he is proud, takes a modest holiday abroad every year and spends his Sundays gardening. He is knowledgeable about art and architecture, though he doesn’t pretend to be an expert by any means. It is, therefore, all the more surprising that he should be so insistent about the ghost. It happened, so he says, like this: He was traveling from London to the North of England by train. It was a misty November evening and the train was half empty. In fact for the first part of the journey Mr Turner had the carriage to himself and sat dozing over a newspaper. However at the
first stop a passenger jumped in, slamming the door behind him. He seemed out of breath
as if he had been running. He was a striking looking young man with dark, bushy hair
and bright intelligent eyes. He was dressed rather oddly in a long waisted coat with silver
buttons, tight trousers and an embroidered waistcoat. Mr Turner did not pay much
attention to this because people wear all sort of extravagant clothes these days and he had
long grown accustomed to them. Presently, the two men got into conversation, as people do on long journeys. Mr Turner was interested to discover that the young man was very knowledgeable about art –
in particular portraits. His name, he said, was Joseph Hart, and he was on his way to visit
an exhibition. It seemed that he worked in a famous London Art Gallery – a picture
restorer, perhaps, thought Mr Turner, for he seemed to know a great deal about vanishes
and paints, and even more about the subjects of certain portraits. When Mr Turner asked
his opinion of a portrait of a famous judge by a artist he admired, his companion laughedand said. “he’s only a reproduction – a good one I agree but you can’t talk to a
reproduction.” He spoke as though the person in the portrait were still living. After awhile the carriage got hot and steamy and Mr Turner dropped off. He woke up just as the train was drawing up at a junction with a grinding of brakes. His companion
has disappeared.
A few days latter, having returned to London, Mr Turner found himself near the Art
Gallery. Moved by some impulse, he went in and enquired for Joseph Hart. The attendant
directed him to a room devoted to early nineteenth century portraits of well-known men.
There was no-one in the room and Mr Turner looked around him. Without knowing quite
how he had got there, he found himself standing in front of a full-length portrait of a dark
young man in tight trousers and an embroidered waistcoat. The eyes smiled at him with a
hint of amusement. The name-plate at the foot of the picture read: Joseph Hart,
Gentleman, 1800-1835.

Kết quả (Việt) 1:

Luật sư của tôi, ông Turner, là người duy nhất tôi biết ai đã nhìn thấy một con ma. Ông là một người đàn ông even-tempered yên tĩnh mà cuộc sống chi tiêu trong việc đối phó với sự kiện. Ông là người cuối cùng trên thế giới cung cấp cho cách để tưởng tượng. Ông có một người vợ và hai con người trong số họ ông là tự hào, mất một kỳ nghỉ khiêm tốn ở nước ngoài mỗi năm và dành làm vườn chủ nhật của mình. Ông là kiến thức về nghệ thuật và kiến trúc, mặc dù ông không giả vờ là một chuyên gia bằng phương tiện nào. Đó là, do đó, tất cả các chi tiết đáng ngạc nhiên rằng ông nên như vậy van lơn về những con ma. Nó xảy ra, do đó, ông nói, như thế này: ông đi du lịch từ London đến bắc nước Anh bằng tàu hỏa. Đó là một sương mù ngày buổi tối và đào tạo một nửa sản phẩm nào. Trong thực tế cho phần đầu tiên của cuộc hành trình ông Turner đã vận chuyển cho mình và ngồi dozing trên một tờ báo. Tuy nhiên tại các dừng đầu tiên một hành khách nhảy vào, dập cửa phía sau anh ta. Ông có vẻ ra khỏi hơi thở như thể ông đã chạy. Ông là một người đàn ông trẻ nổi bật nhìn với mái tóc đen tối, rậm rạp và mắt sáng thông minh. Ông được mặc quần áo khá kỳ quặc trong chiếc áo khoác dài waisted bạc nút, chặt chẽ quần và một áo thêu. Ông Turner đã không trả tiền nhiều sự chú ý đến điều này bởi vì mọi người mặc quần áo lộng lẫy loại tất cả những ngày này và ông đã dài phát triển quen với họ. Hiện nay, hai người đàn ông đã vào cuộc trò chuyện, như người làm trên chặng đường dài. Ông Turner đã được quan tâm để phát hiện ra rằng người đàn ông trẻ là rất am hiểu về nghệ thuật- in particular portraits. His name, he said, was Joseph Hart, and he was on his way to visit an exhibition. It seemed that he worked in a famous London Art Gallery – a picture restorer, perhaps, thought Mr Turner, for he seemed to know a great deal about vanishes and paints, and even more about the subjects of certain portraits. When Mr Turner asked his opinion of a portrait of a famous judge by a artist he admired, his companion laughedand said. “he’s only a reproduction – a good one I agree but you can’t talk to a reproduction.” He spoke as though the person in the portrait were still living. After awhile the carriage got hot and steamy and Mr Turner dropped off. He woke up just as the train was drawing up at a junction with a grinding of brakes. His companion has disappeared. A few days latter, having returned to London, Mr Turner found himself near the Art Gallery. Moved by some impulse, he went in and enquired for Joseph Hart. The attendant directed him to a room devoted to early nineteenth century portraits of well-known men. There was no-one in the room and Mr Turner looked around him. Without knowing quite how he had got there, he found himself standing in front of a full-length portrait of a dark young man in tight trousers and an embroidered waistcoat. The eyes smiled at him with a hint of amusement. The name-plate at the foot of the picture read: Joseph Hart, Gentleman, 1800-1835.