I’m going to go for a drive,” he said to his wife. “I’ll be back in an dịch - I’m going to go for a drive,” he said to his wife. “I’ll be back in an Việt làm thế nào để nói

I’m going to go for a drive,” he sa

I’m going to go for a drive,” he said to his wife. “I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

He didn’t often leave the house for more than the few minutes it took him to go to the post office or
to a store, but spent his time hanging around doing odd jobs — Mr. Fix-it, his wife called him —
and also, though not nearly enough of it, painting — which he made his living from.
“All right,” his wife said brightly, as though he were doing her a favor. As a matter of fact, she
didn’t really like him to leave; she felt safer with him at home, and he helped look after the
children, especially the baby.
“You’re glad to be rid of me, aren’t you?” he said.
“Uh-huh,” she said with a smile that suddenly made her look very pretty — someone to be missed.
She didn’t ask him where he was going for his drive. She wasn’t the least bit inquisitive, though
jealous she was in silent, subtle ways.
As he put his coat on, he watched her. She was in the living room with their elder daughter. “Do
the can-can, mother,” the child said, at which she held up her skirt and did the can-can, kicking her
legs up high in his direction.
He wasn’t simply going out for a drive, as he had said, but going to a café, to meet Sarah, whom his
wife knew but did not suspect, and with her go to a house on a lake his wife knew nothing about —
a summer cottage to which he had the key.
“Well, goodbye,” he said.
“Bye,” she called back, still dancing.
This wasn’t the way a husband expected his wife — whom he was about to leave at home to go to
another woman — to behave at all, he thought. He expected her to be sewing or washing, not doing
the can-can, for God’s sake. Yes, doing something uninteresting and unattractive, like darning
children’s clothes. She had no stockings on, no shoes, and her legs looked very white and smooth,
secret, as though he had never touched them or come near them. Her feet, swinging up and down
high in the air, seemed to be nodding to him. She held her skirt bunched up, attractively. Why was
she doing that of all times now? He lingered. Her eyes had mockery in them, and she laughed. The
child laughed with her as she danced. She was still dancing as he left the house.

He thought of the difficulties he had had arranging this rendezvous... going out to a call box;
phoning Sarah at her office (she was married, too); her being out; his calling her again; the busy
signal; the coin falling out of sight, his opening the door of the phone box in order to retrieve it; at
last getting her on the line; her asking him to call again next week, finally setting a date.

Waiting for her at the café, he surprised himself hoping that she wouldn’t come. The appointment
was at three. It was now ten past. Well, she was often late. He looked at the clock, and at the
picture window for her car. A car like hers, and yet not hers — no luggage rack on it. The smooth
hardtop gave him a peculiar pleasure. Why? It was 3:15 now. Perhaps she wouldn’t come. No, if
she was going to come at all, this was the most likely time for her to arrive. Twenty past. Ah, now
www.ajarnjohn.com
there was some hope. Hope? How strange he should be hoping for her absence. Why had he made
the appointment if he was hoping she would miss it? He didn’t know why, but simpler, simpler if
she didn’t come. Because all he wanted now was to smoke that cigarette, drink that cup of coffee
for the sake of them, and not to give himself something to do. And he wished he could go for a
drive, free and easy, as he had said he would. But he waited, and at 3:30 she arrived. “I had almost
given up hope,” he said.
They drove to the house on the lake. As he held her in his arms he couldn’t think of her; for the life
of him he couldn’t.
“What are you thinking about?” she said afterwards, sensing his detachment.
For a moment he didn’t answer, then he said, “You really want to know what I was thinking of?”
“Yes,” she said, a little anxiously.

He suppressed a laugh, as though what he was going to tell her was too absurd or silly. “I was
thinking of someone doing the can-can.”
“Oh,” she said, reassured. “For a moment I was afraid you were thinking of your wife.”
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Từ: -
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Kết quả (Việt) 1: [Sao chép]
Sao chép!
I’m going to go for a drive,” he said to his wife. “I’ll be back in an hour or two.”He didn’t often leave the house for more than the few minutes it took him to go to the post office orto a store, but spent his time hanging around doing odd jobs — Mr. Fix-it, his wife called him —and also, though not nearly enough of it, painting — which he made his living from.“All right,” his wife said brightly, as though he were doing her a favor. As a matter of fact, shedidn’t really like him to leave; she felt safer with him at home, and he helped look after thechildren, especially the baby.“You’re glad to be rid of me, aren’t you?” he said.“Uh-huh,” she said with a smile that suddenly made her look very pretty — someone to be missed.She didn’t ask him where he was going for his drive. She wasn’t the least bit inquisitive, thoughjealous she was in silent, subtle ways.As he put his coat on, he watched her. She was in the living room with their elder daughter. “Dothe can-can, mother,” the child said, at which she held up her skirt and did the can-can, kicking herlegs up high in his direction.He wasn’t simply going out for a drive, as he had said, but going to a café, to meet Sarah, whom hiswife knew but did not suspect, and with her go to a house on a lake his wife knew nothing about —a summer cottage to which he had the key.“Well, goodbye,” he said.“Bye,” she called back, still dancing.This wasn’t the way a husband expected his wife — whom he was about to leave at home to go toanother woman — to behave at all, he thought. He expected her to be sewing or washing, not doingthe can-can, for God’s sake. Yes, doing something uninteresting and unattractive, like darningchildren’s clothes. She had no stockings on, no shoes, and her legs looked very white and smooth,secret, as though he had never touched them or come near them. Her feet, swinging up and downhigh in the air, seemed to be nodding to him. She held her skirt bunched up, attractively. Why wasshe doing that of all times now? He lingered. Her eyes had mockery in them, and she laughed. Thechild laughed with her as she danced. She was still dancing as he left the house.He thought of the difficulties he had had arranging this rendezvous... going out to a call box;phoning Sarah at her office (she was married, too); her being out; his calling her again; the busysignal; the coin falling out of sight, his opening the door of the phone box in order to retrieve it; atlast getting her on the line; her asking him to call again next week, finally setting a date.Waiting for her at the café, he surprised himself hoping that she wouldn’t come. The appointmentwas at three. It was now ten past. Well, she was often late. He looked at the clock, and at thepicture window for her car. A car like hers, and yet not hers — no luggage rack on it. The smoothhardtop gave him a peculiar pleasure. Why? It was 3:15 now. Perhaps she wouldn’t come. No, ifshe was going to come at all, this was the most likely time for her to arrive. Twenty past. Ah, nowwww.ajarnjohn.comthere was some hope. Hope? How strange he should be hoping for her absence. Why had he madethe appointment if he was hoping she would miss it? He didn’t know why, but simpler, simpler ifshe didn’t come. Because all he wanted now was to smoke that cigarette, drink that cup of coffeefor the sake of them, and not to give himself something to do. And he wished he could go for adrive, free and easy, as he had said he would. But he waited, and at 3:30 she arrived. “I had almostgiven up hope,” he said.They drove to the house on the lake. As he held her in his arms he couldn’t think of her; for the lifeof him he couldn’t.“What are you thinking about?” she said afterwards, sensing his detachment.For a moment he didn’t answer, then he said, “You really want to know what I was thinking of?”“Yes,” she said, a little anxiously.He suppressed a laugh, as though what he was going to tell her was too absurd or silly. “I wasthinking of someone doing the can-can.”“Oh,” she said, reassured. “For a moment I was afraid you were thinking of your wife.”
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Kết quả (Việt) 2:[Sao chép]
Sao chép!
Tôi sẽ đi cho một ổ đĩa, "ông nói với vợ mình. "Tôi sẽ trở lại trong một hay hai giờ." Ông không thường ra khỏi nhà cho hơn vài phút nó đã đưa anh đi đến bưu điện hoặc đến một cửa hàng, nhưng đã dành thời gian của mình treo xung quanh làm công việc lặt vặt - Ông Fix-it, vợ gọi anh ta - và cũng có thể, mặc dù không phải là gần đủ của nó, sơn -. mà ông thực hiện cuộc sống của mình từ "Được rồi," vợ rạng rỡ nói, như thể anh đã làm cô ấy một ân huệ. Như một vấn đề của thực tế, cô đã không thực sự thích anh ta để lại; cô cảm thấy an toàn hơn với anh ta ở nhà, và ông đã giúp chăm sóc các trẻ em, đặc biệt là các em bé. "Anh vui mừng được thoát khỏi tôi, phải không?", ông nói. "Uh-huh," cô nói với một nụ cười đó đột nhiên làm cô trông rất xinh đẹp - một người nào đó để được bỏ qua. Cô không hỏi anh ta, nơi ông đã được đi cho ổ đĩa của mình. Cô ấy không phải là chút ít tò mò, dù ghen cô trong im lặng, những cách tinh tế. Khi anh đưa áo khoác của anh, anh nhìn cô. Cô đang ở trong phòng khách với đứa con gái lớn của họ. "Làm cái lon-can, mẹ," đứa con cho biết, lúc đó cô giơ lên váy của cô và đã làm các can-thể, đá cô chân lên cao trong chỉ đạo của ông. Ông không chỉ đơn giản là đi ra ngoài cho một ổ đĩa, như ông đã nói, nhưng đi đến một quán cà phê, để đáp ứng Sarah, người mà anh vợ biết nhưng không nghi ngờ, và với cô ấy đi đến một ngôi nhà trên hồ vợ ông không biết gì về -. một ngôi nhà mùa hè mà ông đã có chìa khóa "Vâng , tạm biệt, "ông nói." Tạm biệt, "cô gọi lại, vẫn nhảy múa. Đây không phải là cách một người chồng dự kiến vợ mình - người mà ông đã về để lại ở nhà để đi đến một phụ nữ khác - cư xử cả, ông nghĩ. Ông dự kiến của mình để được may vá hay giặt, không làm các can-can, vì Chúa. Vâng, làm điều gì đó thật nhàm chán và kém hấp dẫn, như vá lại quần áo trẻ em. Cô không có vớ trên, không có giày dép, và chân của cô trông rất trắng và mịn màng, bí mật, như là mặc dù ông chưa bao giờ chạm vào chúng hoặc đến gần họ. Đôi chân của mình, đung đưa lên xuống cao trong không khí, dường như gật đầu với anh ta. Cô ôm váy cô chụm lại, hấp dẫn. Tại sao cô ấy làm điều đó trong mọi thời đại bây giờ? Ông vẫn còn nán lại. Đôi mắt cô đã nhạo báng trong họ, và cô ấy cười. Những đứa trẻ cười với cô khi cô nhảy múa. Cô vẫn còn nhảy múa khi rời nhà. Anh nghĩ về những khó khăn ông đã có sắp xếp hẹn này ... đi ra ngoài một hộp gọi; gọi điện Sarah tại văn phòng của cô (cô đã kết hôn, quá); cô được ra khỏi; mình gọi lại mình; bận rộn tín hiệu; đồng xu rơi ra khỏi tầm mắt, ông mở cửa của hộp thoại để lấy nó; tại cuối cùng nhận được cô ấy trên đường; cô hỏi anh ấy gọi lại vào tuần tới, cuối cùng thiết lập một ngày. Đang chờ cô ở quán cà phê, ông ngạc nhiên khi mình hy vọng rằng cô ấy sẽ không đến. Việc bổ nhiệm là tại ba. Bây giờ đã mười vừa qua. Vâng, cô thường xuyên bị trễ. Anh nhìn đồng hồ, và tại các cửa sổ hình ảnh cho chiếc xe của mình. Một chiếc xe giống như cô, nhưng không phải của bà - không có giá để hành lý trên đó. Các mịn mui cứng đã cho anh một niềm vui đặc biệt. Tại sao? Nó là 03:15 bây giờ. Có lẽ cô ấy sẽ không đến. Không, nếu cô ấy sắp đến lúc tất cả, đây là lần có khả năng nhất cho cô ấy đến. Hai mươi qua. Ah, bây giờ www.ajarnjohn.com đã có một số hy vọng. Mong ước? Thật lạ lùng, ông nên mong cho sự vắng mặt của cô. Tại sao anh làm việc chỉ định nếu ông đã hy vọng cô ấy sẽ bỏ lỡ nó? Anh không biết tại sao, nhưng đơn giản hơn, đơn giản hơn nếu cô ấy đã không đến. Bởi vì tất cả anh muốn lúc này là hút điếu thuốc đó, mà uống tách cà phê, vì lợi ích của họ, và không để cho mình một cái gì đó để làm. Và anh ước anh có thể đi cho một ổ đĩa, miễn phí và dễ dàng, như anh đã từng nói. Nhưng chờ đợi, và lúc 3:30 cô đến. "Tôi đã gần như từ bỏ hy vọng," ông nói. Họ lái xe đến ngôi nhà trên hồ. Khi anh ôm cô ấy trong vòng tay của mình, ông không thể nghĩ về nàng; cho cuộc sống của anh không thể. "Anh đang nghĩ gì?", cô nói sau đó, nhận thấy đội của mình. Trong một lúc anh không trả lời, sau đó, ông nói, "Bạn thực sự muốn biết những gì tôi đã nghĩ đến việc ? "" Vâng, "cô nói, một chút lo lắng. ấy nén một tiếng cười, như thể những gì anh ta sẽ nói với cô ấy là quá vô lý hoặc ngớ ngẩn. "Tôi đã nghĩ đến một người nào đó làm cái lon-can." "Oh," cô nói, cam đoan. "Trong một thoáng tôi đã sợ bạn đã nghĩ đến người vợ của mình."





















































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