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  外语解密学习法 逆读法(Reverse Reading Method)   解读法(Decode-Reading Method)训练范文 ——                 

解密目标语言:英语                                解密辅助语言:汉语
              Language to be decoded:  English             Auxiliary Language :  Chinese

  
解密文本:     《打赌》  [俄] 契诃夫 原著          
 
Пари
автор Антон Павлович Чехов

 

            The Bet            
                                                                   by   Anton Chekhov    
                                                                

           俄汉对照(Russian & Chinese)                                  俄英对照(Russian & English)                               英汉对照(English & Chinese)
 

 

                                   I

IT was a dark autumn night. The old banker was pacing from corner to corner of his study, recalling to his mind the party he gave in the autumn fifteen years ago. There were many clever people at the party and much interesting conversation. They talked among other things of capital punishment. The guests, among them not a few scholars and journalists, for the most part disapproved of capital punishment. They found it obsolete as a means of punishment, unfitted to a Christian State and immoral. Some of them thought that capital punishment should be replaced universally by life-imprisonment.

"I don't agree with you," said the host. " I myself have experienced neither capital punishment nor life-imprisonment, but if one may judge a priori, then in my opinion capital punishment is more moral and more humane than imprisonment. Execution kills instantly, life-imprisonment kills by degrees. Who is the more humane executioner, one who kills you in a few seconds or one who draws the life out of you incessantly, for years ? "

 

"They're both equally immoral," remarked one of the guests, " because their purpose is the same, to take away life. The State is not God. It has no right to take away that which it cannot give back, if it should so desire."

Among the company was a lawyer, a young man of about twenty-five. On being asked his opinion, he said :

"Capital punishment and life-imprisonment are equally immoral ; but if I were offered the choice between them, I would certainly choose the second. It's better to live somehow than not to live at all."

There ensued a lively discussion. The banker who was then younger and more nervous suddenly lost his temper, banged his fist on the table, and turning to the young lawyer, cried out :

 

"It's a lie. I bet you two millions you wouldn't stick in a cell even for five years."

"If that's serious," replied the lawyer, " then I bet I'll stay not five but fifteen."

"Fifteen! Done!" cried the banker. "Gentlemen, I stake two millions."

"Agreed. You stake two millions, I my freedom," said the lawyer.

 

So this wild, ridiculous bet came to pass. The banker, who at that time had too many millions to count, spoiled and capricious, was beside himself with rapture. During supper he said to the lawyer jokingly :

 

"Come to your senses, young man, before it's too late. Two millions are nothing to me, but you stand to lose three or four of the best years of your life. I say three or four, because you'll never stick it out any longer. Don't forget either, you unhappy man, that voluntary is much heavier than enforced imprisonment. The idea that you have the right to free yourself at any moment will poison the whole of your life in the cell. I pity you."

And now the banker pacing from corner to corner, recalled all this and asked himself:

"Why did I make this bet? What's the good ? The lawyer loses fifteen years of his life and I throw away two millions. Will it convince people that capital punishment is worse or better than imprisonment for life. No, No ! all stuff and rubbish. On my part, it was the caprice of a well-fed man ; on the lawyer's, pure greed of gold."

He recollected further what happened after the evening party. It was decided that the lawyer must undergo his imprisonment under the strictest observation, in a garden-wing of the banker's house. It was agreed that during the period he would be deprived of the right to cross the threshold, to see living people, to hear human voices, and to receive letters and newspapers. He was permitted to have a musical instrument, to read books, to write letters, to drink wine and smoke tobacco. By the agreement he could communicate, but only in silence, with the outside world through a little window specially constructed for this purpose. Everything necessary, books, music, wine, he could receive in any quantity by sending a note through the window. The agreement provided for all the minutest details, which made the confinement strictly solitary, and it obliged the lawyer to remain exactly fifteen years from twelve o'clock of November 14th 1870 to twelve o'clock of November 14th 1885. The least attempt on his part to violate the conditions, to escape if only for two minutes before the time freed the banker from the obligation to pay him the two millions.

 

During the first year of imprisonment, the lawyer, as far as it was possible to judge from his short notes, suffered terribly from loneliness and boredom. From his wing day and night came the sound of the piano. He rejected wine and tobacco. " Wine," he wrote, " excites desires, and desires are the chief foes of a prisoner ; besides, nothing is more boring than to drink good wine alone," and tobacco spoils the air in his room. During the first year the lawyer was sent books of a light character ; novels with a complicated love interest, stories of crime and fantasy, comedies, and so on.

In the second year the piano was heard no longer and the lawyer asked only for classics. In the fifth year, music was heard again, and the prisoner asked for wine. Those who watched him said that during the whole of that year he was only eating, drinking, and lying on his bed. He yawned often and talked angrily to himself. Books he did not read. Sometimes at nights he would sit down to write. He would write for a long time and tear it all up in the morning. More than once he was heard to weep.

 

In the second half of the sixth year, the prisoner began zealously to study languages, philosophy, and history. He fell on these subjects so hungrily that the banker hardly had time to get books enough for him. In the space of four years about six hundred volumes were bought at his request. It was while that passion lasted that the banker received the following letter from the prisoner : " My dear gaoler, I am writing these lines in six languages. Show them to experts. Let them read them, if they do not find one single mistake, I beg you to give orders to have a gun fired off in the garden. By the noise I shall know that my efforts have not been in vain. The geniuses of all ages and countries speak in different languages ; but in them all burns the same flame. Oh, if you knew my heavenly happiness now that I can understand them ! " The prisoner's desire was fulfilled. Two shots were fired in the garden by the banker's order.

 

Later on, after the tenth year, the lawyer sat immovable before his table and read only the New Testament. The banker found it strange that a man who in four years had mastered six hundred erudite volumes, should have spent nearly a year in reading one book, easy to understand and by no means thick. The New Testament was then replaced by the history of religions and theology.

During the last two years of his confinement the prisoner read an extraordinary amount, quite haphazard. Now he would apply himself to the natural sciences, then would read Byron or Shakespeare. Notes used to come from him in which he asked to be sent at the same time a book on chemistry, a text-book of medicine, a novel, and some treatise on philosophy or theology. He read as though he were swimming in the sea among the broken pieces of wreckage, and in his desire to save his life was eagerly grasping one piece after another.

 

II

The banker recalled all this, and thought : "To-morrow at twelve o'clock he receives his freedom. Under the agreement, I shall have to pay him two millions. If I pay, it's all over with me. I am ruined for ever . . ."

 

Fifteen years before he had too many millions to count, but now he was afraid to ask himself which he had more of, money or debts. Gambling on the Stock-Exchange, risky speculation, and the recklessness of which he could not rid himself even in old age, had gradually brought his business to decay ; and the fearless, selfconfident, proud man of business had become an ordinary banker, trembling at every rise and fall in the market.

"That cursed bet," murmured the old man clutching his head in despair ..." Why didn't the man die ? He's only forty years old. He will take away my last farthing, marry, enjoy life, gamble on the Exchange, and I will look on like an envious beggar and hear the same words from him every day : ' I'm obliged to you for the happiness of my life. Let me help you.' No, it's too much ! The only escape from bankruptcy and disgrace is that the man should die."

 

The clock had just struck three. The banker was listening. In the house everyone was asleep, and one could hear only the frozen trees whining outside the windows. Trying to make no sound, he took out of his safe the key of the door which had not been opened for fifteen years, put on his overcoat, and went out of the house. The garden was dark and cold. It was raining. A keen damp wind hovered howling over all the garden and gave the trees no rest. Though he strained his eyes, the banker could see neither the ground, nor the white statues, nor the garden-wing, nor the trees. Approaching the place where the garden wing stood, he called the watchman twice. There was no answer. Evidently the watchman had taken shelter from the bad weather and was now asleep somewhere in the kitchen or the greenhouse.

"If I have the courage to fulfil my intention," thought the old man, " the suspicion will fall on the watchman first of all."

In the darkness he groped for the stairs and the door and entered the hall of the garden- wing, then poked his way into a narrow passage and struck a match. Not a soul was there. Someone's bed, with no bedclothes on it, stood there, and an iron stove was dark in the corner. The seals on the door that led into the prisoner's room were unbroken.

When the match went out, the old man, trembling from agitation, peeped into the little window.

In the prisoner's room a candle was burning dim. The prisoner himself sat by the table. Only his back, the hair on his head and his hands were visible. On the table, the two chairs, the carpet by the table open books were strewn.

Five minutes passed and the prisoner never once stirred. Fifteen years' confinement had taught him to sit motionless. The banker tapped on the window with his finger, but the prisoner gave no movement in reply. Then the banker cautiously tore the seals from the door and put the key into the lock. The rusty lock gave a hoarse groan and the door creaked. The banker expected instantly to hear a cry of surprise and the sound of steps. Three minutes passed and it was as quiet behind the door as it had been before. He made up his mind to enter.

Before the table sat a man, unlike an ordinary human being. It was a skeleton, with tight- drawn skin, with a woman's long curly hair, and a shaggy beard. The colour of his face was yellow, of an earthy shade ; the cheeks were sunken, the back long and narrow, and the hand upon which he leaned his hairy head was so lean and skinny that it was painful to look upon. His hair was already silvering with grey, and no one who glanced at the senile emaciation of the face would have believed that he was only forty years old. On the table, before his bended head, lay a sheet of paper on which something was written in a tiny hand.

"Poor devil," thought the banker, "he's asleep and probably seeing millions in his dreams. I have only to take and' throw this half-dead thing on the bed, smother him a moment with the pillow, and the most careful examination will find no trace of unnatural death. But, first, let us read what he has written here."

The banker took the sheet from the table and read :

"To-morrow at twelve o'clock midnight, I shall obtain my freedom and the right to mix with people. But before I leave this room and see the sun I think it necessary to say a few words to you. On my own clear conscience and before God who sees me I declare to you that I despise freedom, life, health, and all that your books call the blessings of the world.

"For fifteen years I have diligently studied earthly life. True, I saw neither the earth nor the people, but in your books I drank fragrant wine, sang songs, hunted deer and wild boar in the forests, loved women . . . And beautiful women, like clouds ethereal, created by the magic of your poets' genius, visited me by night and whispered me wonderful tales, which made my head drunken. In your books I climbed the summits of Elbruz and Mont Blanc and saw from thence how the sun rose in the morning, and in the evening overflowed the sky, the ocean and the mountain ridges with a purple gold. I saw from thence how above me lightnings glimmered cleaving the clouds ; I saw green forests, fields, rivers, lakes, cities ; I heard syrens singing, and the playing of the pipes of Pan ; I touched the wings of beautiful devils who came flying to me to speak of God : . . In your books I cast myself into bottomless abysses, worked miracles, burned cities to the ground, preached new religions, conquered whole countries . . .

 

"Your books gave me wisdom. All that unwearying human thought created in the centuries is compressed to a little lump in my skull. I know that I am more clever than you all.

 

"And I despise your books, despise all worldy blessings and wisdom. Everything is void, frail, visionary and delusive like a mirage. Though you be proud and wise and beautiful, yet will death wipe you from the face of the earth like the mice underground ; and your posterity, your history, and the immortality of your men of genius will be as frozen slag, burnt down together with the terrestrial globe.

"You are mad, and gone the wrong way. You take lie for truth and ugliness for beauty. You would marvel if by certain conditions there should suddenly grow on apple and orange trees, instead of fruit, frogs and lizards, and if roses should begin to breathe the odour of a sweating horse. So do I marvel at you, who have bartered heaven for earth. I do not want to understand you.

"That I may show you in deed my contempt for that by which you live, I waive the two millions of which I once dreamed as of paradise, and which I now despise. That I may deprive myself of my right to them, I shall come out from here five minutes before the stipulated term, and thus shall violate the agreement."

When he had read, the banker put the sheet on the table, kissed the head of the strange man, and began to weep. He went out of the wing. Never at any other time, not even after his terrible losses on the Exchange, had he felt such contempt for himself as now. Coming home, he lay down on his bed, but agitation and tears kept him long from sleep . . .

The next morning the poor watchman came running to him and told him that they had seen the man who lived in the wing climbing through the window into the garden. He had gone to the gate and disappeared. Together with his servants the banker went instantly to the wing and established the escape of his prisoner. To avoid unnecessary rumours he took the paper with the renunciation from the table and, on his return, locked it in his safe.

 

 

                         I

  一个黑沉沉的秋夜。老银行家在他的书房里踱来踱去,回想起十五年前也是在秋天他举行过的一次晚会。在这次晚会上,来了许多有识之士,谈了不少有趣的话题。他们顺便谈起了死刑。客人们中间有不少学者和新闻记者,大多数人对死刑持否定态度。他们认为这种刑罚已经过时,不适用于信奉基督教的国家,而且不合乎道德。照这些人的看法,死刑应当一律改为无期徒刑。
  “我不同意你们的观点,”主人银行家说,“我既没有品尝过死刑的滋味,也没有体验过无期徒刑的磨难,不过如果可以主观评定的话,那么我以为死刑比无期徒刑更合乎道德,更人道。死刑把人一下子处死,而无期徒刑却慢慢地把人处死。究竟哪一个刽子手更人道?是那个几分钟内处死您的人,还是在许多年间把您慢慢折磨死的人?”
  
  “两种刑罚同样不道德,”有个客人说,“因为它们的目的是一致的--夺去人的生命。国家不是上帝。它没有权利夺去它即使日后有心归还却无法归还的生命。”
  客人中间有一个二十五岁的年轻律师。别人问他的看法时,他说:
  “不论死刑还是无期徒刑都是不道德的,不过如果要我在死刑和无期徒刑中作一选择,那么我当然选择后者。活着总比死了好。”
  这下热烈的争论开始了。银行家当时年轻气盛,一时性起,一拳捶到桌上,对着年轻的律师嚷道:
  “这话不对!我用两百万打赌,您在囚室里坐不了五年!”
  “如果这话当真,”律师回答说,“那我也打赌,我不是坐五年,而是十五年。”
  “十五年?行!”银行家喊道,“诸位先生,我下两百万赌注。”
  “我同意!您下两百万赌注,我用我的自由作赌注!”律师说。
  就这样,这个野蛮而荒唐的打赌算成立了!银行家当时到底有几百万家财,连他自己也说不清,他娇生惯养,轻浮鲁莽,打完赌兴高采烈。吃晚饭的时候,他取笑律师说:
  “年轻人,清醒清醒吧,现在为时不晚。对我来说两百万是小事一桩,而您却在冒险,会丧失您一生中最美好的三四年时光。我说三四年,因为您不可能坐得比这更久。不幸的人,您也不要忘了,自愿受监禁比强迫坐牢要难熬得多。您有权利随时出去享受自由--这种想法会使您在囚室中的生活痛苦不堪。我可怜您!”
  此刻银行家在书房里踱来踱去,想起这件往事,不禁问自己:
  “何苦打这种赌呢?律师白白浪费了十五年大好光阴,我损失了两百万,这有什么好处呢?这能否向人们证明,死刑比无期徒刑坏些或者好些?不能,不能。荒唐,毫无意义!在我这方面,完全是因为饱食终日,一时心血来潮,在律师方面,则纯粹是贪图钱财……”
  随后银行家回想起上述晚会后的事。当时决定,律师必须搬到银行家后花园里的一间小屋里住,在最严格的监视下过完他的监禁生活。规定在十五年间他无权跨出门槛,看见活人,听见人声,收到信件和报纸。允许他有一样乐器,可以读书、写信、喝酒和抽烟。跟外界的联系,根据契约,他只能通过一个为此特设的小窗口进行,而且不许说话。他需要的东西,如书,乐谱,酒等等,他可以写在纸条上,要多少给多少,但只能通过窗口。契约规定了种种条款和细节,保证监禁做到严格的隔离,规定律师必须坐满十五年,即从一八七0年十一月十四日十二时起至一八八五年十一月十四日十二时止。律师一方任何违反契约的企图,哪怕在规定期限之前早走两分钟,即可解除银行家支付他两百万的义务。
  在监禁的第一年,根据律师的简短便条来看,他又孤独又烦闷,痛苦不堪。不论白天,还是夜晚,从他的小屋里经常传出钢琴的声音!他拒绝喝酒抽烟。他写道:酒激起欲望,而欲望是囚徒的头号敌人。再说,没有比喝着美酒却见不着人更烦闷的了。烟则熏坏他房间里的空气。第一年,律师索要的都是内容轻松的读物:情节复杂的爱情小说,侦探小说,神话故事,喜剧等等。
  第二年,小屋里不再有乐曲声,律师的纸条上只要求古典作品。第五年又传出乐曲声,囚徒要求送酒去。那些从小窗口监视他的人说,整整这一年他只顾吃饭,喝酒,躺在床上,哈欠连连,愤愤不平地自言自语。他不读书。有时夜里爬起来写东西,写得很久,一到清晨又把写好的东西统统撕碎。他们不止一次听到他在哭泣。
  第六年的下半年,囚徒热衷于研究语言、哲学和历史。他如饥似渴地研究这些学问,弄得银行家都来不及订购到他所要的书。在后来的四年间,经他的要求,总计买了六百册书。在律师陶醉于阅读期间,银行家还收到他的这样一封信:
  亲爱的典狱长:我用六种文字给您写信。请将信交有关专家审阅。如果他们找不出一个错误,那么我请求您让人在花园里放一枪。枪声将告诉我,我的努力没有付诸东流。各国历代的天才尽管所操的语言不同,然而他们的心中都燃烧着同样热烈的激情。啊,但愿您能知道,由于我能了解他们,现在我的内心体验到多么巨大的非人间所有的幸福!
  囚徒的愿望实现了。银行家吩咐人在花园里放了两枪。
  十年之后,律师一动不动地坐在桌旁,只读一本《福音书》。银行家觉得奇怪,既然他在囚年里能读完六百本深奥的著作,这么一本好懂的、不厚的书怎么要读上一年工夫呢?读完《福音书》,他接着读宗教史和神学著作。
  在监禁的最后两年,囚徒不加选择,读了很多的书。有时他研究自然科学,有时要求拜伦和莎士比亚的作品。他的一些纸条上往往要求同时给他送化学书,医学书,长篇小说,某篇哲学论文,或者神学著作。他看书就好像他落水后在海中漂浮,为了救自己的命,急不可待地时而抓住沉船的这块碎片,时而抓住另一块浮木!

 

II

  老银行家回忆这些事后想道:
  “明天十二点他就要获得自由。按契约我应当付他两百万。如果我付清款子,我就彻底破产,一切都完了……”
  十五年前他不知道自己到底有多少个一百万,如今却害怕问自己:他的财产多还是债务多?交易所里全凭侥幸的赌博,冒险的投机买卖,直到老年都改不了的急躁脾气,渐渐地使他的事业一落千丈。这个无所畏惧、过分自信的、傲慢的富翁现在变成一个中产的银行家,证券的一起一落总让他胆战心惊。
  “该诅咒的打赌!”老人嘟哝着,绝望地抱住头,“这个人怎么不死呢?他还只有四十岁。不久他会拿走我最后的钱,然后结婚,享受生活的乐趣,搞证券投机。我呢,变成了乞丐,只能嫉妒地看着他,每天听他那句表白:‘多亏您,我才得到幸福,让我来帮助您。’不,这太过分了!摆脱破产和耻辱的唯一办法就是这个人的死!”
  时钟敲了三下。银行家侧耳细听:房子里的人都睡了,只听见窗外的树木冻得呜呜作响。他竭力不弄出响声,从保险柜里取出十五年来从未用过的房门钥匙,穿上大衣,走出房去。
  花园里又黑又冷。下着雨。潮湿而刺骨的寒风呼啸着刮过花园,不容树木安静。银行家集中注意力,仍然看不见土地,看不见白色雕像,看不见那座小屋,看不见树木。他摸到小屋附近,叫了两次看守人。没人回答。显然,看守人躲风雨去了,此刻正睡在厨房里或者花房里。
  “如果我有足够的勇气实现我的意图,”老人想,“那么嫌疑首先会落在看门人身上。”
  他在黑暗中摸索着台阶和门,进了小屋的前室,随后摸黑进了不大的过道,划了一根火柴。这里一个人也没有。有一张床,但床上没有被子,角落里有个黑糊糊的铁炉。囚徒房门上的封条完整无缺。
  火柴熄灭了,老人心慌得浑身发抖,摸到小窗口往里张望。
  囚徒室内点着一支昏黄的蜡烛。他本人坐在桌前。从这里只能看到他的背、头发和两条胳膊。在桌子上,在两个圈椅里,在桌子旁的地毯上,到处放着摊开的书。
  五分钟过去了,囚徒始终没有动一下。十五年的监禁教会了他静坐不动。银行家弯起一个手指敲敲小窗,囚徒对此毫无反应。这时银行家才小心翼翼地撕去封条,把钥匙插进锁孔里。生锈的锁一声闷响,房门吱嘎一声开了。银行家预料会立即发出惊叫声和脚步声,可是过去了两三分钟,门里却像原先一样寂静。他决定走进房间里。
  桌子后面一动不动坐着一个没有人样的人。这是一具皮包骨头的骷髅,一头长长的女人那样的鬈发,胡子乱蓬蓬的。他的脸呈土黄色,脸颊凹陷,背部狭长,胳膊又细又瘦,一只手托着长发蓬乱的头,那模样看上去真叫吓人。他的头发早已灰白,瞧他那张像老人般枯瘦的脸,谁也不会相信他只有四十岁。他入睡了……桌子上,在他垂下的头前有一张纸,上面写着密密麻麻的字。
  “可怜的人!”银行家想道,“他睡着了,大概正梦见那两百万呢!只要我抱起这个半死不活的人,把他扔到床上,用枕头闷住他的头,稍稍压一下,那么事后连最仔细的医检也找不出横死的迹象。不过,让我先来看看他写了什么……”
  银行家拿起桌上的纸,读到下面的文字:
  明天十二点我将获得自由,获得跟人交往的权利。不过,在我离开这个房间、见到太阳之前,我认为有必要对您说几句话。凭着清白的良心,面对注视我的上帝,我向您声明:我蔑视自由、生命、健康,蔑视你们的书里称之为人间幸福的一切。
  十五年来,我潜心研究人间的生活。的确,我看不见天地和人们,但在你们的书里我喝着香醇的美酒,我唱歌,在树林里追逐鹿群和野猪,和女人谈情说爱……由你们天才的诗人凭借神来之笔创造出的无数美女,轻盈得犹如臼云,夜里常常来探访我,对我小声讲述着神奇的故事,听得我神迷心醉。在你们的书里,我攀登上艾尔布鲁士和勃朗峰的顶巅,从那里观看早晨的日出,观看如血的晚霞如何染红了天空、海洋和林立的山峰。我站在那里,看到在我的上空雷电如何劈开乌云,像人蛇般游弋;我看到绿色的森林、原野、河流、湖泊、城市,听到塞王的歌唱和牧笛的吹奏;我甚至触摸过美丽的魔鬼的翅膀,它们飞来居然跟我谈论上帝……在你们的书里我也坠入过无底的深渊,我创造奇迹,行凶杀人,烧毁城市,宣扬新的宗教,征服了无数王国……
  你们的书给了我智慧。不倦的人类思想千百年来所创造的一切,如今浓缩成一团,藏在我的头颅里。我知道我比你们所有的人都聪明。
  我也蔑视你们的书,蔑视人间的各种幸福和智慧。一切都微不足道,转瞬即逝,虚幻莫测,不足为信,有如海市蜃楼。虽然你们骄傲、聪明而美丽,然而死亡会把你们彻底消灭,就降消灭地窖里的耗子一样,而你们的子孙后代,你们的历史,你们的不朽天才,将随着地球一起或者冻结成冰,或者烧毁。
  你们丧失理智,走上邪道。你们把谎言当成真理,把丑看作美,如果由于某种环境,苹果树和橙树上不结果实,却忽然长出蛤蟆和晰蜴,或者玫瑰花发出马的汗味,你们会感到奇怪;同样,我对你们这些宁愿舍弃天国来换取人世的人也味到奇怪。我不想了解你们。
  为了用行动向你们表明我蔑视你们赖以生活的一切,我放弃那两百万,虽说我曾经对它像对天堂一样梦寐以求,可是现在我蔑视它。为了放弃这一权利,我决定在规定期限之前五个时离开这里,从而违反契约……
  银行家读到这里,把纸放回桌上,在这个怪人头上亲了一下,含泪走出小屋。他一生中任何时候,哪怕在交易所输光之后,也下曾像现在这样深深地蔑视自己。回到家里,他倒在床上,然而激动的眼泪使他久久不能入睡……
  第二大早晨,吓白了脸的看守人跑来告诉他,说他们看到住在小屋里的人爬出窗子,进了花园,往大门走去,后来就不知去向了。银行家带领仆人立即赶到小屋,证实囚徒确实跑掉了。为了杜绝无谓的流言,他取走桌上那份放弃权利的声明,回到房间,把它锁进保险柜里。

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       分类:             国芳多语对照文库 >> 俄语-英语 >> 契科夫 >> 短篇小说      
    Categories:  Xie's Multilingual Corpus >> Russian-English >> Chekov >> Short Novel                                                  
    

 

 



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