SHE sat at the window watching the

SHE sat at the window watching the evening invade the avenue. Her head was leaned against the window curtains and in her nostrils was the odour of dusty cretonne. She was tired.
Few people passed. The man out of the last house passed on his way home; she heard his footsteps clacking along the concrete pavement and afterwards crunching on the cinder path before the new red houses. One time there used to be a field there in which they used to play every evening with other people’s children. Then a man from Belfast bought the field and built houses in it—not like their little brown houses but bright brick houses with shining roofs. The children of the avenue used to play together in that field—the Devines, the Waters, the Dunns, little Keogh the cripple, she and her brothers and sisters. Ernest, however, never played: he was too grown up. Her father used often to hunt them in out of the field with his blackthorn stick; but usually little Keogh used to keep nix and call out when he saw her father coming. Still they seemed to have been rather happy then. Her father was not so bad then; and besides, her mother was alive. That was a long time ago; she and her brothers and sisters were all grown up; her mother was dead. Tizzie Dunn was dead, too, and the Waters had gone back to England. Everything changes. Now she was going to go away like the others, to leave her home.
Home! She looked round the room, reviewing all its familiar objects which she had dusted once a week for so many years, wondering where on earth all the dust came from. Perhaps she would never see again those familiar objects from which she had never dreamed of being divided. And yet during all those years she had never found out the name of the priest whose yellowing photograph hung on the wall above the broken harmonium beside the coloured print of the promises made to Blessed Margaret Mary Alacoque. He had been a school friend of her father. Whenever he showed the photograph to a visitor her father used to pass it with a casual word:
“He is in Melbourne now.”
She had consented to go away, to leave her home. Was that wise? She tried to weigh each side of the question. In her home anyway she had shelter and food; she had those whom she had known all her life about her. Of course she had to work hard, both in the house and at business. What would they say of her in the Stores when they found out that she had run away with a fellow? Say she was a fool, perhaps; and her place would be filled up by advertisement. Miss Gavan would be glad. She had always had an edge on her, especially whenever there were people listening.
“Miss Hill, don’t you see these ladies are waiting?”
“Look lively, Miss Hill, please.”
She would not cry many tears at leaving the Stores.
But in her new home, in a distant unknown country, it would not be like that. Then she would be married—she, Eveline. People would treat her with respect then. She would not be treated as her mother had been. Even now, though she was over nineteen, she sometimes felt herself in danger of her father’s violence. She knew it was that that had given her the palpitations. When they were growing up he had never gone for her like he used to go for Harry and Ernest, because she was a girl; but latterly he had begun to threaten her and say what he would do to her only for her dead mother’s sake. And now she had nobody to protect her. Ernest was dead and Harry, who was in the church decorating business, was nearly always down somewhere in the country. Besides, the invariable squabble for money on Saturday nights had begun to weary her unspeakably. She always gave her entire wages—seven shillings—and Harry always sent up what he could but the trouble was to get any money from her father. He said she used to squander the money, that she had no head, that he wasn’t going to give her his hard-earned money to throw about the streets, and much more, for he was usually fairly bad of a Saturday night. In the end he would give her the money and ask her had she any intention of buying Sunday’s dinner. Then she had to rush out as quickly as she could and do her marketing, holding her black leather purse tightly in her hand as she elbowed her way through the crowds and returning home late under her load of provisions. She had hard work to keep the house together and to see that the two young children who had been left to her charge went to school regularly and got their meals regularly. It was hard work—a hard life—but now that she was about to leave it she did not find it a wholly undesirable life.
She was about to explore another life with Frank. Frank was very kind, manly, open-hearted. She was to go away with him by the night-boat to be his wife and to live with him in Buenos Ayres where he had a home waiting for her. How well she remembered the first time she had seen him; he was lodging in a house on the main road where she used to visit. It seemed a few weeks ago. He was standing at the gate, his peaked c

Kết quả (Việt) 1:

CÔ ngồi ở cửa sổ xem buổi tối xâm chiếm đại lộ. Đầu của cô cúi với rèm cửa sổ và trong lỗ mũi của cô đã là mùi bụi cretonne. Cô đã mệt mỏi.Vài người trôi qua. Người đàn ông ra khỏi nhà cuối cùng đã thông qua trên đường về nhà; cô nghe bước chân của ông clacking dọc theo vỉa hè bê tông và sau crunching trên con đường than trước ngôi nhà màu đỏ mới. Một thời gian có sử dụng là một trường có mà họ sử dụng để chơi mỗi tối với trẻ em của người khác. Sau đó, một người đàn ông từ Belfast đã mua các lĩnh vực và xây dựng nhà ở trong nó-không giống như của nâu nhà ít nhưng ngôi nhà gạch sáng sủa với sáng mái. Trẻ em của các đại lộ được sử dụng để chơi với nhau trong lĩnh vực đó-Devines, vùng biển, Dunns các, ít Keogh làm tê liệt, cô và cô anh em và chị em. Ernest, Tuy nhiên, không bao giờ chơi: ông cũng được tăng lên. Cha cô được sử dụng thường xuyên để săn tìm chúng trong trong các lĩnh vực với ông thanh blackthorn; nhưng thường ít Keogh sử dụng để giữ nix và gọi ra khi nhìn thấy cha sắp tới. Vẫn họ dường như đã được khá hạnh phúc sau đó. Cha không phải là xấu như vậy sau đó; và bên cạnh đó, mẹ cô ấy còn sống. Đó là một thời gian dài trước đây; cô và anh em và chị em của cô đã được tất cả tăng lên; mẹ cô đã chết. Tizzie Dunn đã chết, quá, và các vùng nước đã đi trở lại Anh. Tất cả mọi thứ thay đổi. Bây giờ cô ấy biến mất như những người khác, để lại cô nhà.Trang chủ! Bà nhìn quanh phòng, xem xét tất cả các đối tượng quen thuộc mà cô ấy đã phủi bụi mỗi tuần một lần cho nhiều năm, tự hỏi nơi trên trái đất, tất cả các bụi đến từ. Có lẽ cô ấy sẽ không bao giờ gặp lại các đối tượng quen thuộc mà từ đó cô đã không bao giờ mơ ước được chia. Và nào được nêu ra trong tất cả những năm cô ấy đã không bao giờ phát hiện ra tên của các linh mục mà bức ảnh vàng treo trên tường ở trên đợt vỡ bên cạnh các màu in hứa hẹn được thực hiện để may mắn Margaret Mary Alacoque. Ông đã là một người bạn học của cha cô. Bất cứ khi nào ông đã cho thấy các bức ảnh để khách truy cập cha cô được sử dụng để vượt qua nó với một từ ngẫu nhiên:"Ông là ở Melbourne bây giờ."Cô ấy đã đồng ý ra đi, để lại cô nhà. Đã là khôn ngoan? Cô đã cố gắng để cân nhắc mỗi bên của các câu hỏi. Trong nhà của mình dù sao cô đã có chỗ ở và thực phẩm; cô đã có những người mà cô đã biết tất cả cuộc sống của cô về cô. Tất nhiên, cô đã làm việc chăm chỉ, cả trong nhà và kinh doanh. Họ nói gì của cô tại các cửa hàng khi họ phát hiện ra rằng cô ấy đã đi với một đồng? Nói rằng cô là một kẻ ngốc, có lẽ; và nơi cô sẽ được lấp đầy bởi quảng cáo. Hoa hậu Gavan sẽ được vui mừng. Cô luôn luôn đã có một cạnh trên của mình, đặc biệt là bất cứ khi nào đã có người nghe."Hoa hậu Hill, không bạn nhìn thấy những phụ nữ đang chờ đợi?""Cái nhìn sôi động, cuộc thi Hoa hậu Hill, xin vui lòng."Cô sẽ không phải khóc nước mắt nhiều lúc rời khỏi các cửa hàng.But in her new home, in a distant unknown country, it would not be like that. Then she would be married—she, Eveline. People would treat her with respect then. She would not be treated as her mother had been. Even now, though she was over nineteen, she sometimes felt herself in danger of her father’s violence. She knew it was that that had given her the palpitations. When they were growing up he had never gone for her like he used to go for Harry and Ernest, because she was a girl; but latterly he had begun to threaten her and say what he would do to her only for her dead mother’s sake. And now she had nobody to protect her. Ernest was dead and Harry, who was in the church decorating business, was nearly always down somewhere in the country. Besides, the invariable squabble for money on Saturday nights had begun to weary her unspeakably. She always gave her entire wages—seven shillings—and Harry always sent up what he could but the trouble was to get any money from her father. He said she used to squander the money, that she had no head, that he wasn’t going to give her his hard-earned money to throw about the streets, and much more, for he was usually fairly bad of a Saturday night. In the end he would give her the money and ask her had she any intention of buying Sunday’s dinner. Then she had to rush out as quickly as she could and do her marketing, holding her black leather purse tightly in her hand as she elbowed her way through the crowds and returning home late under her load of provisions. She had hard work to keep the house together and to see that the two young children who had been left to her charge went to school regularly and got their meals regularly. It was hard work—a hard life—but now that she was about to leave it she did not find it a wholly undesirable life.Cô là về để khám phá một cuộc sống với Frank. Frank đã rất tử tế, manly, mở-hearted. Cô đã ra đi với anh ta bằng chiếc thuyền đêm để là vợ và sống với ông ở Buenos Ayres, nơi ông đã có một nhà chờ đợi cho cô ấy. Tốt như thế nào cô ấy nhớ lần đầu tiên cô đã nhìn thấy anh ta; ông đã nộp trong một ngôi nhà trên con đường chính, nơi cô sử dụng để truy cập vào. Nó có vẻ như một vài tuần trước. Ông đã đứng ở cửa, ông c peaked