Easy English ↔ Source English
Chapter 14
Source paragraphs anchor each row. Semantically matched easy-English paragraphs stay grouped beside the source they rewrite.
Easy-English paragraphs are matched to the source by meaning; numbering follows the source text.
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01
Easy English
In the lobby Archer ran into Ned Winsett. Janey called Winsett one of Archer's "clever people." He was the only one Archer liked to talk with. With him, talk went deeper than the easy jokes of club and eating-house.
Source English
As he came out into the lobby Archer ran across his friend Ned Winsett, the only one among what Janey called his "clever people" with whom he cared to probe into things a little deeper than the average level of club and chop-house banter.
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02
Easy English
Across the house, Archer noticed Winsett's worn coat and bent shoulders. Once Winsett's eyes turned toward the Beaufort box. They shook hands, and Winsett proposed a glass of beer at a little German restaurant around the corner.
Archer was not in the mood for that kind of talk. He said he had work at home.
"Oh, well, so have I," said Winsett, "and I'll be the Industrious Apprentice too." He meant the hard-working boy in some famous old pictures.
Source English
He had caught sight, across the house, of Winsett's shabby round-shouldered back, and had once noticed his eyes turned toward the Beaufort box. The two men shook hands, and Winsett proposed a bock at a little German restaurant around the corner. Archer, who was not in the mood for the kind of talk they were likely to get there, declined on the plea that he had work to do at home; and Winsett said: "Oh, well so have I for that matter, and I'll be the Industrious Apprentice too."
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03
Easy English
They walked along together. "Look here," Winsett said presently. "What I really want is the name of the dark lady in that fine box of yours. She was with the Beauforts, wasn't she? The one your friend Lefferts seems so taken with."
Source English
They strolled along together, and presently Winsett said: "Look here, what I'm really after is the name of the dark lady in that swell box of yours--with the Beauforts, wasn't she? The one your friend Lefferts seems so smitten by."
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04
Easy English
Archer felt a flash of anger without knowing why. What did Ned Winsett want with Ellen Olenska's name? And why set it next to Lefferts's? Such curiosity was unlike Winsett. But after all, Archer remembered, he was a journalist, paid to write for the newspapers.
Source English
Archer, he could not have said why, was slightly annoyed. What the devil did Ned Winsett want with Ellen Olenska's name? And above all, why did he couple it with Lefferts's? It was unlike Winsett to manifest such curiosity; but after all, Archer remembered, he was a journalist.
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05
Easy English
"It's not for an interview, I hope?" Archer said, laughing.
Source English
"It's not for an interview, I hope?" he laughed.
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06
Easy English
"Well, not for the press. Just for myself," Winsett answered. "The fact is, she's a neighbour of mine. A strange part of town for such a beauty to settle in. And she has been very kind to my little boy."
"He fell down the steps by her door, chasing his little cat, and cut himself badly. She rushed in with nothing on her head, carrying him in her arms. His knee was tied up beautifully. She was so kind, and so beautiful, that my wife was too full of wonder to ask her name."
Source English
"Well--not for the press; just for myself," Winsett rejoined. "The fact is she's a neighbour of mine--queer quarter for such a beauty to settle in--and she's been awfully kind to my little boy, who fell down her area chasing his kitten, and gave himself a nasty cut. She rushed in bareheaded, carrying him in her arms, with his knee all beautifully bandaged, and was so sympathetic and beautiful that my wife was too dazzled to ask her name."
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07
Easy English
A pleasant warmth spread through Archer's heart. The story was nothing special. Any woman would do as much for a neighbour's child.
But it was just like Ellen, he felt, to rush in with no hat, the boy in her arms. It was like her to make poor Mrs. Winsett forget, in her wonder, to ask a name.
Source English
A pleasant glow dilated Archer's heart. There was nothing extraordinary in the tale: any woman would have done as much for a neighbour's child. But it was just like Ellen, he felt, to have rushed in bareheaded, carrying the boy in her arms, and to have dazzled poor Mrs. Winsett into forgetting to ask who she was.
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08
Easy English
"That is the Countess Olenska," he said. "She is a granddaughter of old Mrs. Mingott's."
Source English
"That is the Countess Olenska--a granddaughter of old Mrs. Mingott's."
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09
Easy English
"Whew — a Countess!" said Ned Winsett. "Well, I didn't know Countesses were so friendly with their neighbours. Mingotts are not."
Source English
"Whew--a Countess!" whistled Ned Winsett. "Well, I didn't know Countesses were so neighbourly. Mingotts ain't."
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10
Easy English
"They would be, if you let them."
Source English
"They would be, if you'd let them."
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11
Easy English
"Ah, well…" It was their old, endless argument about the "clever people" who refused to visit the fashionable world. Both men knew it was no use going on.
Source English
"Ah, well--" It was their old interminable argument as to the obstinate unwillingness of the "clever people" to frequent the fashionable, and both men knew that there was no use in prolonging it.
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12
Easy English
"I wonder," Winsett said, "how a Countess comes to live in our slum?" A slum was a poor, crowded part of town.
Source English
"I wonder," Winsett broke off, "how a Countess happens to live in our slum?"
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13
Easy English
"Because she doesn't care at all where she lives," said Archer. "Or about any of the little sign-posts of our society." He felt a secret pride in his own picture of her.
Source English
"Because she doesn't care a hang about where she lives--or about any of our little social sign-posts," said Archer, with a secret pride in his own picture of her.
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14
Easy English
"H'm. She has lived in bigger places, I suppose," said Winsett. "Well, here's my corner."
Source English
"H'm--been in bigger places, I suppose," the other commented. "Well, here's my corner."
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15
Easy English
He walked off across Broadway with his loose, tired step. Archer stood and turned over his last words.
Source English
He slouched off across Broadway, and Archer stood looking after him and musing on his last words.
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16
Easy English
Winsett had those sudden flashes of sharp sight, the most interesting thing about him. They made Archer wonder why he accepted failure so calmly, at an age when most men still fight.
Source English
Ned Winsett had those flashes of penetration; they were the most interesting thing about him, and always made Archer wonder why they had allowed him to accept failure so stolidly at an age when most men are still struggling.
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17
Easy English
Winsett had a wife and child, but Archer never saw them. They met at the Century, or at places where newspaper men and theatre people went, like that restaurant.
Winsett let Archer understand that his wife was an invalid, a person always too ill to go out. That might be true of the poor lady. Or it might only mean no social gifts, or no evening dress, or both.
Winsett hated social rules with a wild hate. Archer dressed for the evening because he thought it cleaner and more comfortable. He never stopped to think how much clean clothes and comfort cost on a small budget.
To him, Winsett's attitude was part of the boring "Bohemian" pose, the free, careless style of poor artists. Fashionable people changed their clothes without talking about it. They never went on about their servants. That, Archer felt, was why they seemed the simpler, easier ones.
All the same, Winsett always woke Archer's mind. Whenever he saw that thin bearded face and sad eyes, he pulled Winsett from his corner for a long talk.
Source English
Archer had known that Winsett had a wife and child, but he had never seen them. The two men always met at the Century, or at some haunt of journalists and theatrical people, such as the restaurant where Winsett had proposed to go for a bock. He had given Archer to understand that his wife was an invalid; which might be true of the poor lady, or might merely mean that she was lacking in social gifts or in evening clothes, or in both. Winsett himself had a savage abhorrence of social observances: Archer, who dressed in the evening because he thought it cleaner and more comfortable to do so, and who had never stopped to consider that cleanliness and comfort are two of the costliest items in a modest budget, regarded Winsett's attitude as part of the boring "Bohemian" pose that always made fashionable people, who changed their clothes without talking about it, and were not forever harping on the number of servants one kept, seem so much simpler and less self-conscious than the others. Nevertheless, he was always stimulated by Winsett, and whenever he caught sight of the journalist's lean bearded face and melancholy eyes he would rout him out of his corner and carry him off for a long talk.
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18
Easy English
Winsett did not write for the papers by choice. He was a pure man of letters, born to make books, in a world that had no need of them.
He published one small book of short, fine pieces on great writing. It sold one hundred and twenty copies. Thirty were given away. The publishers destroyed the rest, as the contract allowed, to make room for books that would sell.
After that he gave up his true calling and took a small editor's job on a weekly paper for women. In its pages, dress pictures and sewing patterns ran beside New England love-stories. There were also advertisements for drinks with no wine in them.
Source English
Winsett was not a journalist by choice. He was a pure man of letters, untimely born in a world that had no need of letters; but after publishing one volume of brief and exquisite literary appreciations, of which one hundred and twenty copies were sold, thirty given away, and the balance eventually destroyed by the publishers (as per contract) to make room for more marketable material, he had abandoned his real calling, and taken a sub-editorial job on a women's weekly, where fashion-plates and paper patterns alternated with New England love-stories and advertisements of temperance drinks.
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19
Easy English
About "Hearth-fires," as the paper was called, he was endlessly funny. But under the fun there was the dry bitterness of a still young man who tried and gave up.
Talk with him made Archer measure his own life and feel how little it held. But Winsett's life held still less. Their shared love of books and ideas made their talks bright and alive.
Yet their talk usually stayed the quiet talk of dilettantes. A dilettante tastes art and ideas lightly, and never fights for them.
Source English
On the subject of "Hearth-fires" (as the paper was called) he was inexhaustibly entertaining; but beneath his fun lurked the sterile bitterness of the still young man who has tried and given up. His conversation always made Archer take the measure of his own life, and feel how little it contained; but Winsett's, after all, contained still less, and though their common fund of intellectual interests and curiosities made their talks exhilarating, their exchange of views usually remained within the limits of a pensive dilettantism.
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20
Easy English
"The fact is, life is not much of a fit for either of us," Winsett once said. "I have lost, and nothing can be done about it. I can make only one kind of thing, and there is no market for it here. There will be no market in my lifetime."
"But you are free and you are well-off. Why don't you take hold of real life? There is only one way to do it. Go into politics."
Source English
"The fact is, life isn't much a fit for either of us," Winsett had once said. "I'm down and out; nothing to be done about it. I've got only one ware to produce, and there's no market for it here, and won't be in my time. But you're free and you're well-off. Why don't you get into touch? There's only one way to do it: to go into politics."
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21
Easy English
Archer threw his head back and laughed. In a flash, one saw the uncrossable space between men like Winsett and Archer's kind. Everyone in polite society knew that in America "a gentleman could not go into politics." But he could hardly say it that way to Winsett.
So he slid past the point. "Look at the career of the honest man in American politics," he said. "They don't want us."
Source English
Archer threw his head back and laughed. There one saw at a flash the unbridgeable difference between men like Winsett and the others--Archer's kind. Every one in polite circles knew that, in America, "a gentleman couldn't go into politics." But, since he could hardly put it in that way to Winsett, he answered evasively: "Look at the career of the honest man in American politics! They don't want us."
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22
Easy English
"Who's 'they'? Why don't you all get together and be 'they' yourselves?"
Source English
"Who's 'they'? Why don't you all get together and be 'they' yourselves?"
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23
Easy English
Archer's laugh died into a small smile, the smile of a man looking down from above. There was no use in more talk. Everyone knew the sad story of the few gentlemen who tried city or state politics in New York.
They carried their clean clothes down into that dirty work, and the work destroyed them. The day for such things was past. The country now belonged to the party bosses and the newcomers from other lands. Honest people had to fall back on sport or culture.
Source English
Archer's laugh lingered on his lips in a slightly condescending smile. It was useless to prolong the discussion: everybody knew the melancholy fate of the few gentlemen who had risked their clean linen in municipal or state politics in New York. The day was past when that sort of thing was possible: the country was in possession of the bosses and the emigrant, and decent people had to fall back on sport or culture.
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24
Easy English
"Culture!" said Winsett. "Yes, if we had it! There are only a few little local spots of it, dying out here and there. They die for lack of care, like a garden no one digs and no one brings new seed to."
"They are the last pieces of the old European tradition that your grandfathers brought over. But you are a pitiful little minority. You have no centre, no competition, and no audience. You are like the pictures on the walls of an empty house — 'The Portrait of a Gentleman.'"
"None of you will ever amount to anything until you roll up your sleeves and get down into the dirt. That, or emigrate… God! If I could emigrate…"
To emigrate meant to leave your own country for good.
Source English
"Culture! Yes--if we had it! But there are just a few little local patches, dying out here and there for lack of--well, hoeing and cross-fertilising: the last remnants of the old European tradition that your forebears brought with them. But you're in a pitiful little minority: you've got no centre, no competition, no audience. You're like the pictures on the walls of a deserted house: 'The Portrait of a Gentleman.' You'll never amount to anything, any of you, till you roll up your sleeves and get right down into the muck. That, or emigrate ... God! If I could emigrate ..."
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25
Easy English
Archer pushed the idea away in his mind and turned the talk back to books. There Winsett was unsure, but always interesting.
Emigrate? A gentleman could never leave his own country. He could no more do that than roll up his sleeves and go down into the dirt. A gentleman stayed at home and took no part. But you could not make a man like Winsett see that.
That was why Winsett's New York of book clubs and foreign restaurants let him down. At first shake it seemed a kaleidoscope, a toy tube of colored pieces falling into new patterns. In the end it proved a smaller box than Fifth Avenue, with a pattern that repeated more.
Source English
Archer mentally shrugged his shoulders and turned the conversation back to books, where Winsett, if uncertain, was always interesting. Emigrate! As if a gentleman could abandon his own country! One could no more do that than one could roll up one's sleeves and go down into the muck. A gentleman simply stayed at home and abstained. But you couldn't make a man like Winsett see that; and that was why the New York of literary clubs and exotic restaurants, though a first shake made it seem more of a kaleidoscope, turned out, in the end, to be a smaller box, with a more monotonous pattern, than the assembled atoms of Fifth Avenue.
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26
Easy English
The next morning Archer searched town for more yellow roses, and found none. The search made him late at the office. It made no difference to anyone.
Sharp anger filled him at the careful emptiness of his life. Why was he not on the warm sand at St. Augustine with May Welland? No one was fooled by his show of legal work.
Old-fashioned law firms like Mr. Letterblair's mostly cared for great family properties and safe, careful investments. Each held two or three well-off young men with no hunger to rise. For some hours each day they sat at their desks, doing small tasks or reading newspapers.
It was thought proper for them to have an occupation. But plain money-making was still seen as beneath a gentleman. The law was a profession, so it counted as more gentlemanly than business.
None of them had much hope of really rising. Over many of them a green mould was spreading, like the soft growth on old bread. It was the mould of dull, careless habit.
Source English
The next morning Archer scoured the town in vain for more yellow roses. In consequence of this search he arrived late at the office, perceived that his doing so made no difference whatever to any one, and was filled with sudden exasperation at the elaborate futility of his life. Why should he not be, at that moment, on the sands of St. Augustine with May Welland? No one was deceived by his pretense of professional activity. In old-fashioned legal firms like that of which Mr. Letterblair was the head, and which were mainly engaged in the management of large estates and "conservative" investments, there were always two or three young men, fairly well-off, and without professional ambition, who, for a certain number of hours of each day, sat at their desks accomplishing trivial tasks, or simply reading the newspapers. Though it was supposed to be proper for them to have an occupation, the crude fact of money-making was still regarded as derogatory, and the law, being a profession, was accounted a more gentlemanly pursuit than business. But none of these young men had much hope of really advancing in his profession, or any earnest desire to do so; and over many of them the green mould of the perfunctory was already perceptibly spreading.
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27
Easy English
Archer went cold at the thought that it might be spreading over him too. True, he had other tastes and interests. He travelled in Europe on his holidays and saw the "clever people" May spoke of. He tried, as he once sadly told Madame Olenska, to "keep up."
But once he was married, what would happen to this narrow strip of life, where his real self lived? He knew other young men who dreamed his dream, though with less fire. One by one, they sank into the smooth, rich, sleepy round of their elders.
Source English
It made Archer shiver to think that it might be spreading over him too. He had, to be sure, other tastes and interests; he spent his vacations in European travel, cultivated the "clever people" May spoke of, and generally tried to "keep up," as he had somewhat wistfully put it to Madame Olenska. But once he was married, what would become of this narrow margin of life in which his real experiences were lived? He had seen enough of other young men who had dreamed his dream, though perhaps less ardently, and who had gradually sunk into the placid and luxurious routine of their elders.
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28
Easy English
From the office he sent a note to Madame Olenska by hand. He asked to call that afternoon, and begged her to leave a reply at his club. He found nothing there. No letter came the next day either.
The silence stung him far more than reason could explain. The next morning, he saw a beautiful bunch of yellow roses in a flower-shop window. He left them there.
On the third morning a few lines came by post from the Countess Olenska. To his surprise, she wrote from Skuytercliff. The van der Luydens went back there after putting the Duke on his ship.
Source English
From the office he sent a note by messenger to Madame Olenska, asking if he might call that afternoon, and begging her to let him find a reply at his club; but at the club he found nothing, nor did he receive any letter the following day. This unexpected silence mortified him beyond reason, and though the next morning he saw a glorious cluster of yellow roses behind a florist's window-pane, he left it there. It was only on the third morning that he received a line by post from the Countess Olenska. To his surprise it was dated from Skuytercliff, whither the van der Luydens had promptly retreated after putting the Duke on board his steamer.
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29
Easy English
Her letter began suddenly, with no opening words:
"I ran away the day after I saw you at the play, and these kind friends have taken me in. I wanted to be quiet and think things over. You were right when you told me how kind they are. I feel so safe here. I wish that you were with us."
She ended with a plain "Yours sincerely," and said nothing about the day of her return.
Source English
"I ran away," the writer began abruptly (without the usual preliminaries), "the day after I saw you at the play, and these kind friends have taken me in. I wanted to be quiet, and think things over. You were right in telling me how kind they were; I feel myself so safe here. I wish that you were with us." She ended with a conventional "Yours sincerely," and without any allusion to the date of her return.
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30
Easy English
The tone surprised the young man. What was Madame Olenska running away from? And why did she need to feel safe? His first thought was of some dark danger from abroad. Then he remembered he did not know her way of writing letters.
Perhaps her style ran to colorful over-statement. Women always made things sound bigger than they were, he thought. Besides, she was not at ease in English. She often spoke it as if she was turning it word by word out of French.
In French, her first line would be "Je me suis évadée" — "I escaped." Put that way, it might only mean escape from a boring round of parties. Very likely that was true. He judged her quick to change, and quickly tired of the pleasure of the moment.
Source English
The tone of the note surprised the young man. What was Madame Olenska running away from, and why did she feel the need to be safe? His first thought was of some dark menace from abroad; then he reflected that he did not know her epistolary style, and that it might run to picturesque exaggeration. Women always exaggerated; and moreover she was not wholly at her ease in English, which she often spoke as if she were translating from the French. "Je me suis évadée--" put in that way, the opening sentence immediately suggested that she might merely have wanted to escape from a boring round of engagements; which was very likely true, for he judged her to be capricious, and easily wearied of the pleasure of the moment.
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31
Easy English
It amused him that the van der Luydens carried her off to Skuytercliff a second time. And this time they set no end to it. The doors of Skuytercliff rarely opened to visitors, and never warmly. A cold week-end was the most ever offered to the few let in.
On his last visit to Paris, Archer saw a delightful play by Labiche, "Le Voyage de M. Perrichon." In it, M. Perrichon pulls a young man out of a glacier. After that, he holds on to him with a firm love that never lets go.
The van der Luydens had pulled Madame Olenska from a fate almost as cold as the ice. There were many other reasons for liking her. But under them all, Archer knew, was a gentle purpose that would not bend. They meant to go on saving her.
Source English
It amused him to think of the van der Luydens' having carried her off to Skuytercliff on a second visit, and this time for an indefinite period. The doors of Skuytercliff were rarely and grudgingly opened to visitors, and a chilly week-end was the most ever offered to the few thus privileged. But Archer had seen, on his last visit to Paris, the delicious play of Labiche, "Le Voyage de M. Perrichon," and he remembered M. Perrichon's dogged and undiscouraged attachment to the young man whom he had pulled out of the glacier. The van der Luydens had rescued Madame Olenska from a doom almost as icy; and though there were many other reasons for being attracted to her, Archer knew that beneath them all lay the gentle and obstinate determination to go on rescuing her.
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32
Easy English
He felt disappointment that she was away. Almost at once, he remembered. The day before, he refused an invitation from the Reggie Chiverses for the coming Sunday. Their house stood on the Hudson, a few miles below Skuytercliff.
Source English
He felt a distinct disappointment on learning that she was away; and almost immediately remembered that, only the day before, he had refused an invitation to spend the following Sunday with the Reggie Chiverses at their house on the Hudson, a few miles below Skuytercliff.
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33
Easy English
He was tired of the noisy, friendly parties at Highbank. They meant sliding down snowy hills, ice-boats, and rides over the snow. They meant long walks, harmless love-talk, and jokes even more harmless.
Besides, a box of new books just arrived from his London book-seller. He wanted only a quiet Sunday at home with his riches.
But now he went into the club writing-room. He wrote a hurried telegram, a message sent in a moment along the electric wire. He told the servant to send it at once.
Mrs. Reggie never minded when visitors suddenly changed their minds. Her house could always stretch, and there was always room to spare.
Source English
He had had his fill long ago of the noisy friendly parties at Highbank, with coasting, ice-boating, sleighing, long tramps in the snow, and a general flavour of mild flirting and milder practical jokes. He had just received a box of new books from his London book-seller, and had preferred the prospect of a quiet Sunday at home with his spoils. But he now went into the club writing-room, wrote a hurried telegram, and told the servant to send it immediately. He knew that Mrs. Reggie didn't object to her visitors' suddenly changing their minds, and that there was always a room to spare in her elastic house.