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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:《两个朋友》  [法国] 莫泊桑 原著          
 
 Deux Amis
 par  Guy de Maupassant

 

               Two  Friends           
                                                                         by  Guy de Maupassant     
                                                                

           法汉对照(French & Chinese)                             法英对照(French & English)                           英汉对照(English & Chinese)


  


     Besieged Paris was in the throes of famine. Even the sparrows on the roofs and the rats in the sewers were growing scarce. People were eating anything they could get.
     As Monsieur Morissot, watchmaker by profession and idler for the nonce, was strolling along the boulevard one bright January morning, his hands in his trousers pockets and stomach empty, he suddenly came face to face with an acquaintance--Monsieur Sauvage, a fishing chum.
     Before the war broke out Morissot had been in the habit, every Sunday morning, of setting forth with a bamboo rod in his hand and a tin box on his back. He took the Argenteuil train, got out at Colombes, and walked thence to the Ile Marante. The moment he arrived at this place of his dreams he began fishing, and fished till nightfall.
     Every Sunday he met in this very spot Monsieur Sauvage, a stout, jolly, little man, a draper in the Rue Notre Dame de Lorette, and also an ardent fisherman. They often spent half the day side by side, rod in hand and feet dangling over the water, and a warm friendship had sprung up between the two.
     Some days they did not speak; at other times they chatted; but they understood each other perfectly without the aid of words, having similar tastes and feelings.
     In the spring, about ten o'clock in the morning, when the early sun caused a light mist to float on the water and gently warmed the backs of the two enthusiastic anglers, Morissot would occasionally remark to his neighbor:
     "My, but it's pleasant here."
     To which the other would reply:
     "I can't imagine anything better!"
     And these few words sufficed to make them understand and appreciate each other.
     In the autumn, toward the close of day, when the setting sun shed a blood-red glow over the western sky, and the reflection of the crimson clouds tinged the whole river with red, brought a glow to the faces of the two friends, and gilded the trees, whose leaves were already turning at the first chill touch of winter, Monsieur Sauvage would sometimes smile at Morissot, and say:
     "What a glorious spectacle!"
     And Morissot would answer, without taking his eyes from his float:
     "This is much better than the boulevard, isn't it?"
     As soon as they recognized each other they shook hands cordially, affected at the thought of meeting under such changed circumstances.
     Monsieur Sauvage, with a sigh, murmured:
     "These are sad times!"
     Morissot shook his head mournfully.
     "And such weather! This is the first fine day of the year."
     The sky was, in fact, of a bright, cloudless blue.
     They walked along, side by side, reflective and sad.
    "And to think of the fishing!" said Morissot. "What good times we used to have!"
    "When shall we be able to fish again?" asked Monsieur Sauvage.
    They entered a small cafe and took an absinthe together, then resumed their walk along the pavement.
    Morissot stopped suddenly.
    "Shall we have another absinthe?" he said.
    "If you like," agreed Monsieur Sauvage.
    And they entered another wine shop.
    They were quite unsteady when they came out, owing to the effect of the alcohol on their empty stomachs. It was a fine, mild day, and a gentle breeze fanned their faces.
    The fresh air completed the effect of the alcohol on Monsieur Sauvage. He stopped suddenly, saying:
    "Suppose we go there?"
    "Where?"
    "Fishing."
    "But where?"
    "Why, to the old place. The French outposts are close to Colombes. I know Colonel Dumoulin, and we shall easily get leave to pass."
    Morissot trembled with desire.
    "Very well. I agree."
    And they separated, to fetch their rods and lines.
    An hour later they were walking side by side on the-highroad. Presently they reached the villa occupied by the colonel. He smiled at their request, and granted it. They resumed their walk, furnished with a password.
    Soon they left the outposts behind them, made their way through deserted Colombes, and found themselves on the outskirts of the small vineyards which border the Seine. It was about eleven o'clock.
     Before them lay the village of Argenteuil, apparently lifeless. The heights of Orgement and Sannois dominated the landscape. The great plain, extending as far as Nanterre, was empty, quite empty-a waste of dun-colored soil and bare cherry trees.
    Monsieur Sauvage, pointing to the heights, murmured:
    "The Prussians are up yonder!"
    And the sight of the deserted country filled the two friends with vague misgivings.
    The Prussians! They had never seen them as yet, but they had felt their presence in the neighborhood of Paris for months past--ruining France, pillaging, massacring, starving them. And a kind of superstitious terror mingled with the hatred they already felt toward this unknown, victorious nation.
    "Suppose we were to meet any of them?" said Morissot.
    "We'd offer them some fish," replied Monsieur Sauvage, with that Parisian light-heartedness which nothing can wholly quench.
    Still, they hesitated to show themselves in the open country, overawed by the utter silence which reigned around them.
    At last Monsieur Sauvage said boldly:
    "Come, we'll make a start; only let us be careful!"
    And they made their way through one of the vineyards, bent double, creeping along beneath the cover afforded by the vines, with eye and ear alert.
    A strip of bare ground remained to be crossed before they could gain the river bank. They ran across this, and, as soon as they were at the water's edge, concealed themselves among the dry reeds.
    Morissot placed his ear to the ground, to ascertain, if possible, whether footsteps were coming their way. He heard nothing. They seemed to be utterly alone.
    Their confidence was restored, and they began to fish.
    Before them the deserted Ile Marante hid them from the farther shore. The little restaurant was closed, and looked as if it had been deserted for years.
    Monsieur Sauvage caught the first gudgeon, Monsieur Morissot the second, and almost every moment one or other raised his line with a little, glittering, silvery fish wriggling at the end; they were having excellent sport.
    They slipped their catch gently into a close-meshed bag lying at their feet; they were filled with joy--the joy of once more indulging in a pastime of which they had long been deprived.
    The sun poured its rays on their backs; they no longer heard anything or thought of anything. They ignored the rest of the world; they were fishing.
    But suddenly a rumbling sound, which seemed to come from the bowels of the earth, shook the ground beneath them: the cannon were resuming their thunder.
    Morissot turned his head and could see toward the left, beyond the banks of the river, the formidable outline of Mont-Valerien, from whose summit arose a white puff of smoke.
    The next instant a second puff followed the first, and in a few moments a fresh detonation made the earth tremble.
    Others followed, and minute by minute the mountain gave forth its deadly breath and a white puff of smoke, which rose slowly into the peaceful heaven and floated above the summit of the cliff.
    Monsieur Sauvage shrugged his shoulders.
    "They are at it again!" he said.
    Morissot, who was anxiously watching his float bobbing up and down, was suddenly seized with the angry impatience of a peaceful man toward the madmen who were firing thus, and remarked indignantly:
    "What fools they are to kill one another like that!"
    "They're worse than animals," replied Monsieur Sauvage.
    And Morissot, who had just caught a bleak, declared:
    "And to think that it will be just the same so long as there are governments!"
    "The Republic would not have declared war," interposed Monsieur Sauvage.
    Morissot interrupted him:
    "Under a king we have foreign wars; under a republic we have civil war."
    And the two began placidly discussing political problems with the sound common sense of peaceful, matter-of-fact citizens--agreeing on one point: that they would never be free. And Mont-Valerien thundered ceaselessly, demolishing the houses of the French with its cannon balls, grinding lives of men to powder, destroying many a dream, many a cherished hope, many a prospective happiness; ruthlessly causing endless woe and suffering in the hearts of wives, of daughters, of mothers, in other lands.
    "Such is life!" declared Monsieur Sauvage.
    "Say, rather, such is death!" replied Morissot, laughing.
    But they suddenly trembled with alarm at the sound of footsteps behind them, and, turning round, they perceived close at hand four tall, bearded men, dressed after the manner of livery servants and wearing flat caps on their heads. They were covering the two anglers with their rifles.
    The rods slipped from their owners' grasp and floated away down the river.
    In the space of a few seconds they were seized, bound, thrown into a boat, and taken across to the Ile Marante.
    And behind the house they had thought deserted were about a score of German soldiers.
    A shaggy-looking giant, who was bestriding a chair and smoking a long clay pipe, addressed them in excellent French with the words:
    "Well, gentlemen, have you had good luck with your fishing?"
    Then a soldier deposited at the officer's feet the bag full of fish, which he had taken care to bring away. The Prussian smiled.
    "Not bad, I see. But we have something else to talk about. Listen to me, and don't be alarmed:
    "You must know that, in my eyes, you are two spies sent to reconnoitre me and my movements. Naturally, I capture you and I shoot you. You pretended to be fishing, the better to disguise your real errand. You have fallen into my hands, and must take the consequences. Such is war.
    "But as you came here through the outposts you must have a password for your return. Tell me that password and I will let you go."
    The two friends, pale as death, stood silently side by side, a slight fluttering of the hands alone betraying their emotion.
    "No one will ever know," continued the officer. "You will return peacefully to your homes, and the secret will disappear with you. If you refuse, it means death-instant death. Choose!"
    They stood motionless, and did not open their lips.
    The Prussian, perfectly calm, went on, with hand outstretched toward the river:
    "Just think that in five minutes you will be at the bottom of that water. In five minutes! You have relations, I presume?"
    Mont-Valerien still thundered.
    The two fishermen remained silent. The German turned and gave an order in his own language. Then he moved his chair a little way off, that he might not be so near the prisoners, and a dozen men stepped forward, rifle in hand, and took up a position, twenty paces off.
    "I give you one minute," said the officer; "not a second longer."
    Then he rose quickly, went over to the two Frenchmen, took Morissot by the arm, led him a short distance off, and said in a low voice:
    "Quick! the password! Your friend will know nothing. I will pretend to relent."
     Morissot answered not a word.
    Then the Prussian took Monsieur Sauvage aside in like manner, and made him the same proposal.
    Monsieur Sauvage made no reply.
    Again they stood side by side.
    The officer issued his orders; the soldiers raised their rifles.
    Then by chance Morissot's eyes fell on the bag full of gudgeon lying in the grass a few feet from him.
    A ray of sunlight made the still quivering fish glisten like silver. And Morissot's heart sank. Despite his efforts at self-control his eyes filled with tears.
    "Good-by, Monsieur Sauvage," he faltered.
    "Good-by, Monsieur Morissot," replied Sauvage.
    They shook hands, trembling from head to foot with a dread beyond their mastery.
    The officer cried:
    "Fire!"
    The twelve shots were as one.
    Monsieur Sauvage fell forward instantaneously. Morissot, being the taller, swayed slightly and fell across his friend with face turned skyward and blood oozing from a rent in the breast of his coat.
    The German issued fresh orders.
    His men dispersed, and presently returned with ropes and large stones, which they attached to the feet of the two friends; then they carried them to the river bank.
    Mont-Valerien, its summit now enshrouded in smoke, still continued to thunder.
    Two soldiers took Morissot by the head and the feet; two others did the same with Sauvage. The bodies, swung lustily by strong hands, were cast to a distance, and, describing a curve, fell feet foremost into the stream.
    The water splashed high, foamed, eddied, then grew calm; tiny waves lapped the shore.
    A few streaks of blood flecked the surface of the river.
    The officer, calm throughout, remarked, with grim humor:
"It's the fishes' turn now!"
    Then he retraced his way to the house.
    Suddenly he caught sight of the net full of gudgeons, lying forgotten in the grass. He picked it up, examined it, smiled, and called:
    "Wilhelm!"
    A white-aproned soldier responded to the summons, and the Prussian, tossing him the catch of the two murdered men, said:
    "Have these fish fried for me at once, while they are still alive; they'll make a tasty dish."
    Then he resumed his pipe.

 


      巴黎被包围了,挨饿了,并且已经在苟延残喘了。各处的屋顶上看不见什么鸟雀,水沟里的老鼠也稀少了。无论什么大家都肯吃。
  莫利梭先生,一个素以修理钟表为业而因为时局关系才闲住在家的人,在一月里的某个晴天的早上,正空着肚子,把双手插在自己军服的裤子口袋里,愁闷地沿着环城大街闲荡,走到一个被他认做朋友的同志跟前,他立刻就停住了脚步。那是索瓦日先生,一个常在河边会面的熟人。在打仗以前,每逢星期日一到黎明,莫利梭就离家了,一只手拿着一根钓鱼的竹竿,背上背着一只白铁盒子。从阿让德衣镇乘火车,在哥隆白村跳下,随后再步行到马郎德洲。一下走到了这个在他视为梦寐不忘的地方,他就动手钓鱼,一直钓到黑夜为止。每
  逢星期日,他总在这个地方遇见一个很胖又很快活的矮子,索瓦日先生,罗累圣母堂街的针线杂货店老板,也是一个醉心钓鱼的人。他们时常贴紧地坐着消磨上半天的功夫,手握着钓竿,双脚悬在水面上;后来他们彼此之间发生了交谊。
  有时候他们并不说话。有时候他们又谈天了;不过既然有相类的嗜好和相同的趣味,尽管一句话不谈,也是能够很好地相契的。
  在春天,早上10点钟光景,在恢复了青春热力的阳光下,河面上浮动着一片随水而逝的薄雾,两个钓鱼迷的背上也感到暖烘烘的。这时候,莫利梭偶尔也对他身边的那个人说:“嘿!多么和暖!”索瓦日先生的回答是:“再没有比这更好的了。”于是这种对话就够得教他们互相了解和互相推重了。
  在秋天,傍晚的时候,那片被落日染得血红的天空,在水里扔下了绯霞的倒景,染红了河身,地平线上像是着了火,两个朋友的脸儿也红得像火一样,那些在寒风里微动的黄叶像是镀了金,于是索瓦日先生在微笑中望着莫利梭说道:“多好的景致!”那位惊异不置的莫利梭两眼并不离开浮子就回答道:“这比在环城马路上好多了,嗯?”
  这一天,他们彼此认出之后,就使劲地互相握了手,在这种异样的环境里相逢,大家都是有感慨的。索瓦日先生叹了一口气低声说:“变故真不少哟!”莫利梭非常抑郁,哼着气说:“天气倒真好!今儿是今年第一个好天气!”
  天空的确是蔚蓝的和非常晴朗的。
  他们开始肩头靠着肩头走起来,大家都在那里转念头,并且都是愁闷的。莫利梭接着说:“钓鱼的事呢?嗯!想起来真有意思!”
  索瓦日先生问:“我们什么时候再到那儿去?”
  他们进了一家小咖啡馆一块儿喝了一杯苦艾酒;后来,他们又在人行道上散步了。
  莫利梭忽然停住了脚步:“再来一杯吧,嗯?”索瓦日先生赞同这个意见:“遵命。”他们又钻到另一家卖酒的人家去了。
  出来的时候,他们都很有醉意了头脑恍惚得如同饿了的人装了满肚子酒一样。天气是暖的。一阵和风拂得他们脸有点儿痒。
  那位被暖气陶醉了的索瓦日先生停住脚步了:“到哪儿去?”
  “什么地方?”
  “钓鱼去啊,自然。”
  “不过到什么地方去钓?”“就是到我们那个沙洲上去。法国兵的前哨在哥隆白村附近。我认识杜木兰团长,他一定会不费事地让我们过去的。”莫利梭高兴得发抖了:“算数。我来一个。”于是他们分了手,各自回家去取他们的器具。
  一小时以后,他们已经在城外的大路上肩头靠着肩头走了。随后,他们到了那位团长办公的别墅里。他因为他们的要求而微笑了,并且同意他们的新鲜花样。他们带着一张通行证又上路了。
  不久,他们穿过了前哨,穿过了那个荒芜了的哥隆白村,后来就到了好些向着塞纳河往下展开的小葡萄园的边上了。时候大约是11点钟。
  对面,阿让德衣镇像是死了一样。麦芽山和沙诺山的高峰俯临四周的一切。那片直达南兑尔县的平原是空旷的,全然空旷的,有的只是那些没有叶子的樱桃树和灰色的荒田。索瓦日先生指着那些山顶低声慢气地说:“普鲁士人就在那上面!”于是一阵疑虑教这两个朋友对着这块荒原不敢提步了。
  普鲁士人!他们却从来没有瞧见过,不过好几个月以来,他们觉得普鲁士人围住了巴黎,蹂躏了法国,抢劫杀戮,造成饥馑,这些人是看不见的和无所不能的。所以,他们对于这个素不相识却又打了胜仗的民族本来非常憎恨,现在又加上一种带迷信意味的恐怖了。
  莫利梭口吃地说:“说呀!倘若我们撞见了他们?”索瓦日先生带着巴黎人贯有的嘲谑态度回答道:“我们可以送一份炸鱼给他们吧。”
  不过,由于整个视界全是沉寂的,他们因此感到胆怯,有点不敢在田地里乱撞了。
  末了,索瓦日先生打定了主意:“快点向前走吧!不过要小心。”于是他们就从下坡道儿到了一个葡萄园里面,弯着腰,张着眼睛,侧着耳朵,在地上爬着走,利用一些矮树掩护了自己。
  现在,要走到河岸,只须穿过一段没有遮掩的地面就行了。他们开始奔跑起来;一到岸边,他们就躲到了那些枯了的芦苇里。
  莫利梭把脸贴在地面上,去细听附近是否有人行走。他什么也没有听见。显然他们的确是单独的,完全单独的。
  他们觉得放心了,后来就动手钓鱼。
  在他们对面是荒凉的马郎德洲,在另一边河岸上遮住了他们。从前在洲上开饭馆的那所小的房子现在关闭了,像是已经许多年无人理睬了。
  索瓦日先生得到第一条鲈鱼,莫利梭钓着了第二条,随后他们时不时地举起钓竿,就在钓丝的头子上带出一条泼刺活跃的银光闪耀的小动物:真的,这一回钓是若有神助的。他们郑重地把这些鱼放在一个浸在他们脚底下水里的很细密的网袋里了。一阵甜美的快乐透过他们的心上,世上人每逢找到了一件久已被人剥夺的嗜好,这种快乐就抓住了他们。
  晴朗的日光,在他们的背上洒下了它的暖气。他们不去细听什么了,不去思虑什么了。不知道世上其他的事了,他们只知道钓鱼。
  但是突然间,一阵像是从地底下出来的沉闷声音教地面发抖了。大炮又开始像远处打雷似地响起来了。
  莫利梭回过头来,他从河岸上望见了左边远远的地方,那座瓦雷良山的侧影正披着一簇白的鸟羽样的东西,那是刚刚从炮口喷出来的硝烟。
  立刻第二道烟又从这炮台的顶上喷出来了;几秒钟之后,一道新的爆炸声又怒吼了。
  随后好些爆炸声接续而来,那座高山一阵一阵散发出它那种死亡的气息。吐出它那些乳白色的蒸气——这些蒸气从从容容在宁静的天空里上升,在山顶之上堆成了一层云雾。索瓦日先生耸着双肩说:“他们现在又动手了。”
  莫利梭正闷闷地瞧着他钓丝上的浮子不住地往下沉,忽然他这个性子温和的人,对着这帮如此残杀的疯子发起火来了,他愤愤地说:“像这样自相残杀,真是太蠢了。”
  索瓦日先生回答道:“真不如畜生。”
  莫利梭正好钓着了一条鲤鱼,高声说道:“可以说凡是有政府在世上的时候,一定都要这样干的。”
  索瓦日先生打断了他的话:“共和国就不会宣战了……”
  莫利梭岔着说:“有帝王,向国外打仗;有共和国,向国内打仗。”
  后来他们开始安安静静讨论起来,用和平而智慧有限的人的一种稳健理由,辨明政治上的大问题,结果彼此都承认人是永远不会自由的。然而瓦雷良山的炮声却没有停息,用炮弹摧毁了好些法国房子,捣毁了好些生活,压碎了好些生命,结束了许多梦想,许多在期待中的快乐,许多在希望中的幸福,并且在远处,其他的地方,贤母的心上,良妻的心上,爱女的心上,制造好些再也不会了结的苦痛。
  “这就是人生!”索瓦日先生高声喊着。
  “您不如说这就是死亡吧。”莫利梭带着笑容回答。
  不过他们都张皇地吃了一惊,明显地觉得他们后面有人走动;于是转过眼来一望,就看见贴着他们的肩站着四个人,四个带着兵器,留着胡子,穿着仆人制服般的长襟军服,戴着平顶军帽的大个子,用枪口瞄着他们的脸。
  两根钓竿从他们手里滑下来,落到河里去了。
  几秒钟之内,他们都被捉住了,绑好了,抬走了,扔进一只小船里了,末了渡到了那个沙洲上。
  在当初那所被他们当做无人理落的房子后面,他们看见了二十来个德国兵。
  一个浑身长毛的巨灵样的人骑在一把椅子上面,吸着一枝长而大的瓷烟斗,用地道的法国话问他们:“喂,先生们,你们很好地钓了一回鱼吧?”
  于是一个小兵在军官的脚跟前,放下了那只由他小心翼翼地带回来的满是鲜鱼的网袋。那个普鲁士人微笑地说:“嘿!嘿!我明白这件事的成绩并不坏。不过另外有一件事。你们好好地听我说,并且不要慌张。“我想你们两个人都是被人派来侦探我们的奸细。我现在捉了你们,就要枪毙你们。你们假装钓鱼,为的是可以好好地掩护你们的计划。你们现在已经落到我手里了,活该你们倒运;现在是打仗呀。”
  “不过你们既然从前哨走得出来,自然知道回去的口令,把这口令给我吧,我赦免你们。”
  两个面无人色的朋友靠着站在一处,四只手因为一阵轻微的神经震动都在那里发抖,他们一声也不响。
  那军官接着说:“谁也不会知道这件事,你们可以太太平平地走回去。这桩秘密就随着你们失踪了。倘若你们不答应,那就非死不可,并且立刻就死。你们去选择吧。”
  他们依然一动不动,没有开口。
  那普鲁士人始终是宁静的,伸手指着河里继续又说:“你们想想吧,五分钟之后你们就要到水底下去了。五分钟之后!你们应当都有父母妻小吧!”
  瓦雷良山的炮声始终没有停止。
  两个钓鱼的人依然站着没有说话。那个德国人用他的本国语言发了命令。随后他挪动了自己的椅子,免得和这两个俘虏过于接近;随后来了12个兵士,立在相距二十来步远近的地方,他们的枪都是靠脚放下的。
  军官接着说:“我限你们一分钟,多一两秒钟都不行。”
  随后,他突然站起来,走到那两个法国人身边,伸出了胳膊挽着莫利梭,把他引到了远一点的地方,低声向他说:
  “快点,那个口令呢?你那个伙伴什么也不会知道的,我可以装做不忍心的样子。”
  莫利梭一个字也不回答。
  那普鲁士人随后又引开了索瓦日先生,并且对他提出了同样的问题。
  索瓦日先生没有回答。
  他们又靠紧着站在一处了。
  军官发了命令。兵士们都托起了他们的枪。
  这时候,莫利梭的眼光偶然落在那只盛满了鲈鱼的网袋上面,那东西依然放在野草里,离他不过几步儿。
  一道日光使得那一堆还能够跳动的鱼闪出反光。于是一阵悲伤教他心酸了,尽管极力镇定自己,眼眶里已经满是眼泪。
  他口吃地说:“永别了,索瓦日先生。”
  索瓦日先生回答道:“永别了,莫利梭先生。”
  他们互相握过了手,不由自主地浑身发抖了。
  军官喊道:“放!”
  12枝枪合做一声响了。
  索瓦日先生一下就向前扑做一堆了,莫利梭个子高些,摇摆了一两下,才侧着倒在他伙伴身上,脸朝着天,好些沸腾似的鲜血,从他那件在胸部打穿了的短襟军服里面向外迸出来。
  德国人又发了好些新的命令。
  他的那些士兵都散了,随后又带了些绳子和石头过来,把石头系在这两个死人的脚上;随后,他们把他们抬到了河边。瓦雷良山的炮声并没有停息,现在,山顶罩上了一座“烟山”。
  两个兵士抬着莫利梭的头和脚。另外两个,用同样的法子抬着索瓦日先生。这两个尸身来回摇摆了一会儿,就被远远地扔出去了,先在空中画出一条曲线,随后如同站着似地往水里沉,石头拖着他们的脚先落进了水里。
  河里的水溅起了,翻腾了,起了波纹了,随后,又归于平静,无数很细的涟漪都达到了岸边。
  一点儿血浮起来了。
  那位神色始终泰然的军官低声说:“现在要轮到鱼了。”随后他重新向着房子那面走去。
  忽然他望见了野草里面那只盛满了鲈鱼的网袋,于是拾起它仔细看了一会,他微笑了,高声喊道:“威廉,来!”
  一个系着白布围腰的兵士跑了过来。这个普鲁士人把这两个枪毙了的人钓来的东西扔给他,一面吩咐:“趁这些鱼还活着,赶快给我炸一炸,味道一定很鲜。”
  随后,他又抽着他的烟斗了。




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          分类:              国芳多语对照文库 >> 法语-英语-汉语 >> 莫泊桑 >> 短篇小说      
    Categories:  Xie's Multilingual Corpus >> French-English-Chinese >> Maupassant  >>  Short Novel               
                                        
    

 

 



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