Bengali Meaning of The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield
And after all the weather was ideal. They could not have had a more perfect day for a garden-party if they had ordered it. Windless, warm, the sky without a cloud. Only the blue was veiled with a haze of light gold, as it is sometimes in early summer.
āĻĒ্āϰāĻৃāϤāĻĒāĻ্āώে āĻĒুāϰো āĻāĻŦāĻšাāĻā§াāĻা āĻুāĻŦ āϏুāύ্āĻĻāϰ (āĻāĻĻāϰ্āĻļ) āĻিāϞ। āϝāĻĻি āĻāϰা āĻāĻা āĻ āϰ্āĻĄাāϰ āĻāϰāϤ, āϤাāĻšāϞে āĻāĻĻ্āϝাāύ āϏāĻŽ্āĻŽেāϞāύেāϰ āĻāύ্āϝ āĻāϤ āĻাāϞো (āĻāĻĒāϝুāĻ্āϤ) āĻĻিāύ āĻāϰা āĻāĻāύোāĻ āĻĒেāϤ āύা। āĻŦাāϤাāϏāĻšীāύ, āĻāώ্āĻŖ , āĻŽেāĻāĻŽুāĻ্āϤ āĻāĻাāĻļ। āĻļুāϧুāĻŽাāϤ্āϰ āύীāϞ āĻāĻাāĻļāĻি āĻšাāϞ্āĻা āϏোāύাāϞী āĻāϞোāϰ āĻোāĻŽāĻা āĻĻ্āĻŦাāϰা āĻāĻŦৃāϤ āĻিāϞ, āϝেāϰāĻāĻŽ āĻ্āϰীāώ্āĻŽেāϰ āĻļুāϰুāϤে āĻŽাāĻে āĻŽাāĻে āĻšā§ে āĻĨাāĻে।
The gardener had been up since dawn, mowing the lawns and sweeping them, until the grass and the dark flat rosettes where the daisy plants had been seemed to shine. As for the roses, you could not help feeling they understood that roses are the only flowers that impress people at garden-parties; the only flowers that everybody is certain of knowing.
āĻŦাāĻাāύেāϰ āĻŽাāϞি āϏেāĻ āĻোāϰāĻŦেāϞা āĻĨেāĻে āĻāĻ ে āĻাāϏে āĻĸাāĻা āĻāĻŽিāϤে āĻাāϏ āĻাāĻাāϰ āϝāύ্āϤ্āϰ āĻĻিā§ে āĻাāϏ āĻাāĻে, āϝāϤāĻ্āώāĻŖ āύা āĻĒāϰ্āϝāύ্āϤ āĻাāϏে āĻāϰা āĻাā§ āĻাā§āĻাāĻিāϤে āĻāĻāĻি āĻোāϞাāĻĒেāϰ āύāĻāĻļা āϤৈāϰী āĻšā§, āϝেāĻাāύে āĻĄেāĻāĻি āĻĢুāϞāĻাāĻāĻুāϞোāϰ āĻāĻ্āĻ্āĻŦāϞ āĻāĻĒāϏ্āĻĨিāϤি āĻিāϞ। āĻāĻ āĻোāϞাāĻĒেāϰ āĻāύ্āϝ āĻāĻĒāύাāĻে āĻ āύুāĻāĻŦ āĻāϰāϤে āĻšāĻŦেāĻ āϝে āĻāϰা āĻাāύে āĻোāϞাāĻĒāĻ āĻāĻāĻŽাāϤ্āϰ āĻĢুāϞ āϝা āĻāĻĻ্āϝাāύ āϏāĻŽ্āĻŽেāϞāύে āĻŽাāύুāώāĻে āĻŽুāĻ্āϧ āĻāϰে; āĻāĻিāĻ āĻāĻāĻŽাāϤ্āϰ āĻĢুāϞ āϝাāϰ āϏāĻŽ্āĻĒāϰ্āĻে āϏāĻŦাāĻ āύিāĻļ্āĻিāϤāĻাāĻŦে āĻাāύে।
Hundreds, yes, literally hundreds, had come out in a single night; the green bushes bowed down as though they had been visited by archangels.
āĻļāϤ āĻļāϤ, āĻš্āϝাঁ, āϏāϤ্āϝিāĻ āĻļāϤ āĻļāϤ, āĻļুāϧুāĻŽাāϤ্āϰ āĻāĻ āϰাāϤ্āϰেāĻ āĻĢুāĻেāĻিāϞ। āĻāϰ āϏāĻŦুāĻ āĻোāĻĒāĻুāϞি āĻāĻŽāύāĻাāĻŦে āύুā§ে āĻĒā§েāĻিāϞ āϝেāύ āϤাāĻĻেāϰ āϏāĻ্āĻে āĻĻেāĻা āĻāϰāϤে āĻĻেāĻŦāĻĻূāϤ āĻāϏেāĻে।
Breakfast was not yet over before the men came to put up the marquee.
"Where do you want the marquee put, mother?"
"My dear child, it's no use asking me. I'm determined to leave everything to you children this year. Forget I am your mother. Treat me as an honoured guest."
āĻĒ্āϰাāϤāϰাāĻļ āĻļেāώ āĻšāĻā§াāϰ āĻāĻেāĻ āĻŦā§ো āϤাঁāĻŦু āĻাāĻাāύোāϰ āĻāύ্āϝ āϞোāĻāĻāύ āĻāϏে āĻšাāĻিāϰ āĻšāϞো।
"āĻŽা, āϤুāĻŽি āĻোāύāĻাāύāĻাā§ āϤাঁāĻŦু āĻাāĻাāϤে āĻাāĻ?"
"āϏোāύা, āĻāĻŽাāĻে āĻিāĻ্āĻাāϏা āĻāϰে āϞাāĻ āύেāĻ। āĻāĻŽি āĻāĻ āĻŦāĻāϰ āϤোāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ, āϏāĻŦ āĻŦাāĻ্āĻাāĻĻেāϰ āĻāĻĒāϰ āϏāĻŦāĻিāĻু āĻেā§ে āĻĻেāĻŦাāϰ āϏিāĻĻ্āϧাāύ্āϤ āĻŽāύāϏ্āĻĨিāϰ āĻāϰেāĻি। āĻুāϞে āϝাāĻ āϝে āĻāĻŽি āϤোāĻŽাāϰ āĻŽা। āĻāĻŽাāϰ āϏāĻ্āĻে āĻāĻāĻāύ āϏāĻŽ্āĻŽাāύীā§ āĻ āϤিāĻĨিāϰ āĻŽāϤ āĻŦ্āϝāĻŦāĻšাāϰ āĻāϰāĻŦে।"
But Meg could not possibly go and supervise the men. She had washed her hair before breakfast, and she sat drinking her coffee in a green turban, with a dark wet curl stamped on each cheek. Jose, the butterfly, always came down in a silk petticoat and a kimono jacket.
āĻিāύ্āϤু āĻŽেāĻ āϏāĻŽ্āĻāĻŦāϤঃ āĻেāϞেāĻুāϞোāĻে āĻĻেāĻাāĻļোāύা āĻāϰāϤে āĻĒাāϰāĻŦে āύা। āϏāĻাāϞেāϰ āĻāϞāĻাāĻŦাāϰ āĻাāĻā§াāϰ āĻāĻেāĻ āϤাāϰ āĻŽাāĻĨা āĻāώা āĻšā§ে āĻিā§েāĻিāϞ। āϏāĻŦুāĻ āϰāĻেāϰ āĻĒাāĻā§ি āĻŽাāĻĨাā§ āĻŦেঁāϧে āϏে āĻāĻĢি āĻĒাāύ āĻāϰāĻিāϞ। āϤাāϰ āĻĻুāĻ āĻাāϞেāϰ āĻāĻĒāϰ āĻāĻāĻি āĻāϰে āĻাāϞো āĻেāĻা āĻোঁāĻā§াāύো āĻুāϞ āĻāϏে āĻĒā§েāĻিāϞ। āĻোāϏ, āϤাāϰ āĻāĻāĻি āϏিāϞ্āĻেāϰ āĻĒেāĻিāĻোāĻ āĻāĻŦং āĻāĻāĻি āĻিāĻŽোāύো āĻ্āϝাāĻেāĻ āĻĒāϰে āĻĒ্āϰāĻাāĻĒāϤিāϰ āĻŽāϤো āύেāĻŽে āĻāϞ।
"You'll have to go, Laura; you're the artistic one."
Away Laura flew, still holding her piece of bread-and-butter. It's so delicious to have an excuse for eating out of doors, and besides, she loved having to arrange things; she always felt she could do it so much better than anybody else.
"āϤোāĻŽাāĻে āϝেāϤেāĻ āĻšāĻŦে, āϞ্āϝāϰা; āϤুāĻŽি āĻšāϞে āĻāĻāĻāύ āĻļিāϞ্āĻĒী।"
āϞ্āϝāϰা āϤাāϰ āĻŽাāĻāύ āϞাāĻাāύো āĻĒাāĻāϰুāĻিāϰ āĻুāĻāϰোāĻা āĻšাāϤে āϧāϰা āĻ āĻŦāϏ্āĻĨাāϤেāĻ āĻুāĻে āĻĒাāϞাāϞো। āϝে āĻোāύো āĻ āĻুāĻšাāϤে āĻĻāϰāĻাāϰ āĻŦাāĻāϰে āĻিā§ে āĻেāϞে āĻŦāϏ্āϤুāĻি āĻāϰāĻ āϏুāϏ্āĻŦাāĻĻু āϞাāĻে, āϤাāϰ āĻĒাāĻļাāĻĒাāĻļি āĻিāύিāϏāĻĒāϤ্āϰ āĻুāĻিā§ে āϰাāĻāϤেāĻ āϏে āĻুāĻŦ āĻাāϞāĻŦাāϏে, āϏে āϏāĻŦāϏāĻŽā§āĻ āĻাāĻŦে āϝে āĻ āύ্āϝ āĻাāϰāĻ āĻেā§ে āϏে āϝে āĻোāύāĻ āĻাāĻ āĻāϰāĻ āĻুāĻিā§ে āĻāϰāϤে āĻĒাāϰে।
Four men in their shirt-sleeves stood grouped together on the garden path. They carried staves covered with rolls of canvas, and they had big tool-bags slung on their backs. They looked impressive. Laura wished now that she was not holding that piece of bread-and-butter, but there was nowhere to put it, and she couldn't possibly throw it away. She blushed and tried to look severe and even a little bit short-sighted as she came up to them.
āĻšাāϤা āϤোāϞা āĻļাāϰ্āĻ āĻĒāϰা āĻাāϰāĻāύ āϞোāĻ āĻāĻāϏāĻ্āĻে āĻĻāϞ āĻŦেঁāϧে āĻŦাāĻাāύেāϰ āĻĒāĻĨে āĻĻাঁā§িā§েāĻিāϞ। āĻ্āϝাāύāĻাāϏেāϰ āϰোāϞ āĻĻিā§ে āĻŽুā§ে āϰাāĻা āϞাāĻ িāĻুāϞি āϤাāϰা āĻŦāĻšāύ āĻāϰāĻিāϞ āĻāĻŦং āϤাāĻĻেāϰ āĻĒিāĻ ে āĻŦā§ āϝāύ্āϤ্āϰāĻĒাāϤিāϰ āĻŦ্āϝাāĻ āĻোāϞাāύো āĻিāϞ। āϤাāĻĻেāϰāĻে āĻŦেāĻļ āĻāĻāϰ্āώāĻŖীā§ āĻĻেāĻাāĻ্āĻিāϞ। āĻিāύ্āϤু āϞ্āϝāϰা āĻŽāύে āĻŽāύে āĻাāĻŦāϞ āϝāĻĻি āĻāĻ āĻŽাāĻāύ- āĻĒাāĻāϰুāĻিāϰ āĻুāĻāϰোāĻা āĻāĻāύ āϤাāϰ āĻšাāϤে āĻāϰ āύা āĻĨাāĻāϤ āϤাāĻšāϞে āĻাāϞো āĻšāϤ āĻাāϰāĻŖ āĻāĻা āϰাāĻাāϰ āĻোāύো āĻাā§āĻা āĻিāϞ āύা, āĻāϰ āϏāĻŽ্āĻāĻŦāϤ āϏে āϏেāĻা āĻĢেāϞেāĻ āĻĻিāϤে āĻĒাāϰāĻŦে āύা। āϏে āĻুāĻŦ āϞāĻ্āĻা āĻĒেāϞ āĻāĻŦং āϝāĻĨাāϏāĻŽ্āĻāĻŦ āĻুāϰুāĻāĻŽ্āĻীāϰ āĻাāϞে āĻāĻāĻুā§ে āĻāĻ্āĻিāϤে āϤাāĻĻেāϰ āĻাāĻাāĻাāĻি āĻāϏে āĻĻাঁā§াāϞো।
"Good morning," she said, copying her mother's voice. But that sounded so
fearfully affected that she was ashamed, and stammered like a little girl, "Oh- er-have you come is it about the marquee?"
"That's right, miss," said the tallest of the men, a lanky, freckled fellow, and he shifted his tool-bag, knocked back his straw hat and smiled down at her. "That's about it."
"āϏুāĻĒ্āϰāĻাāϤ", āϏে āϤাāϰ āĻŽাā§েāϰ āĻāύ্āĻ āϏ্āĻŦāϰ āύāĻāϞ āĻāϰে āĻŦāϞāϞ। āĻিāύ্āϤু āϏ্āĻŦāϰāĻি āĻāϤāĻ āĻā§āĻ্āĻāϰ āĻļোāύাāϞো āϝে āϏে āύিāĻেāĻ āϞāĻ্āĻিāϤ āĻŦোāϧ āĻāϰāϞ, āĻāĻŦং āĻāĻāĻি āĻŦাāĻ্āĻা āĻŽেā§েāϰ āĻŽāϤāύ āĻ āϏ্āĻĒāώ্āĻ āϏ্āĻŦāϰে āĻŦāϞāϞ, "āĻ- āĻāĻ্āĻা āĻি āĻāĻ āϤাঁāĻŦুāϰ āĻŦ্āϝাāĻĒাāϰে āĻāϏেāĻেāύ?" āĻāĻĒāύাāϰা
āĻāĻĻেāϰ āĻŽাāĻে āϞāĻŽ্āĻŦা, āϞিāĻāϞিāĻে āĻāϧāĻŽā§āϞা āϞোāĻāĻা āĻŦāϞāϞ, "āĻāĻĒāύি āĻ িāĻāĻ āϧāϰেāĻেāύ āĻŽিāϏ।" āĻāϰāĻĒāϰ āϏে āϤাāϰ āϝāύ্āϤ্āϰāĻĒাāϤিāϰ āĻŦ্āϝাāĻāĻিāϰ āϏ্āĻĨাāύ āĻĒāϰিāĻŦāϰ্āϤāύ āĻāϰāϞ, āĻā§েāϰ āĻুāĻĒিāϤে āĻোāĻা āĻĻিā§ে āĻāϰ āĻĒাāύে āϤাāĻিā§ে āĻšাāϏāϞ। "āĻāĻাāϰ āĻŦ্āϝাāĻĒাāϰেāĻ āĻāϏেāĻি।"
His smile was so easy, so friendly, that Laura recovered. What nice eyes he had, small, but such a dark blue! And now she looked at the others, they were smiling too. "Cheer up, we won't bite," their smile seemed to say. How very nice workmen were! And what a beautiful morning! She mustn't mention the morning; she must be business-like. The marquee.
"Well, what about the lily-lawn? Would that do?"
āϞোāĻāĻাāϰ āĻšাāϏিāĻা āĻুāĻŦāĻ āϏāĻšāĻ āĻ āĻāύ্āϤāϰিāĻāϤাāĻĒূāϰ্āĻŖ āϝা āϞাāϰাāĻে āϏāĻšāĻেāĻ āĻ āĻিāĻূāϤ āĻāϰāϞ। āϞোāĻāĻাāϰ āĻোāĻ āĻĻুāĻো āĻোāĻো āĻোāĻো āĻিāύ্āϤু āĻাā§ āύীāϞ। āĻāĻŦাāϰ āϏে āĻ āύ্āϝāĻĻেāϰ āĻĻিāĻে āϤাāĻিā§ে āĻĻেāĻāϞ āϤাāϰাāĻ āĻšাāϏāĻে। āĻāĻĻেāϰ āĻšাāϏি āϝেāύ āĻŦোāĻাāϤে āĻাāĻāĻে, "āĻĒ্āϰাāĻŖ āĻুāϞে āĻšাāϏো, āĻāĻŽāϰা āĻাāϰো āĻ্āώāϤিāϰ āĻাāϰāĻŖ āĻšāĻŦ āύা।" āĻāϰ্āĻŽāĻাāϰীāĻুāϞো āĻāϤ āĻāĻĻ্āϰ āĻāϰ āĻāĻāĻেāϰ āϏāĻাāϞāĻাāĻ āĻāϤ āϏুāύ্āĻĻāϰ। āĻিāύ্āϤু āϏāĻাāϞেāϰ āĻŦ্āϝাāĻĒাāϰে āĻŦāϞাāĻা āĻ িāĻ āύā§, āϏে āĻাāĻ āύিā§ে āĻŽাāĻĨা āĻাāĻাāϤে āĻাā§। āĻŽূāϞ āĻŦ্āϝাāĻĒাāϰ āϤাāĻŦু āĻাāĻাāύো।
"āĻাāϞো āĻāĻĨা, āϞিāϞিāĻĢুāϞে āĻāĻ্āĻাāĻĻিāϤ āϞāύāĻি āĻেāĻŽāύ āĻšā§? āĻāĻাāύে āĻšāĻŦে āĻি?"
And she pointed to the lily-lawn with the hand that didn't hold the bread-and- butter. They turned, they stared in the direction. A little fat chap thrust out his under-lip, and the tall fellow frowned
āĻāϰ āϤাāϰ āϝে āĻšাāϤে āϰুāĻি āĻŽাāĻāύ āύেāĻ, āϏেāĻ āĻšাāϤ āϤুāϞে āϏে āĻাā§āĻাāĻা āύিāϰ্āĻĻেāĻļ āĻāϰāϞ। āϤাāϰা āĻুāϰে āϤাāĻাāϞো āϏেāĻ āĻĻিāĻে। āĻোāĻো āĻāĻāĻা āĻŽোāĻা āĻŽāϤো āĻেāϞে āĻ োঁāĻāĻা āĻŦাāĻāϰেāϰ āĻĻিāĻে āĻŦাāϰ āĻāϰে āĻিāĻু āĻāĻāĻা āĻŦāϞাāϰ āĻেāώ্āĻা āĻāϰāϞ āĻāϰ āϞāĻŽ্āĻŦা āϞোāĻāĻা āĻ্āϰু āĻোঁāĻāĻাāϞ।
.
I don't fancy it," said he. "Not conspicuous enough. You see, with a thing like a marquee," and he turned to Laura in his easy way, "you want to put it somewhere where it'll give you a bang slap in the eye, if you follow me."
"āĻāĻŽাāϰ āĻাāĻে āĻāĻা āĻāĻāώāϰ্āĻŖীā§ āĻŽāύে āĻšā§ āύা," āϏে āĻŦāϞāϞ, "āϤাঁāĻŦুāϰ āĻĒাāĻļে āĻāĻা āĻুāĻŦ āĻāĻāĻা āĻŽাāύাāύāϏāĻ āĻšāĻŦে āύা" āĻŦāϞেāĻ āϞোāĻāĻা āϤাāϰ āϏ্āĻŦāĻাāĻŦāϏুāϞāĻ āĻāĻ্āĻিāϤে āϞ্āϝāϰাāϰ āĻĻিāĻে āϤাāĻাāϞ। "āĻāĻĒāύি āĻāĻŽāύ āĻোāύো āĻাā§āĻাā§ āĻāĻা āĻাāĻাāϤে āĻাāĻāĻŦেāύ āϝেāĻাāύে āĻāĻĒāύাāϰ āĻোāĻে āĻāĻা āĻĢুāĻে āĻāĻ āĻŦে। āĻāĻĒāύি āĻāĻŽাāĻে āĻ āύুāϏāϰāĻŖ āĻāϰāϤে āĻĒাāϰেāύ।"
"
Laura's upbringing made her wonder for a moment whether it was quite respectful of a workman to talk to her of bangs slap in the eye. But she did quite follow him.
āϞ্āϝāϰাāϰ āĻĒাāϰিāĻŦাāϰিāĻ āĻĒāϰিāĻŦেāĻļে āĻŦেā§ে āĻāĻ াāϰ āĻļিāĻ্āώা āϤাāĻে āĻŦিāϏ্āĻŽিāϤ āĻāϰāϞ āĻāĻ āĻেāĻŦে āϝে āĻāĻāĻāύ āĻāϰ্āĻŽāĻাāϰী āϤাāĻে āĻোāĻেāϰ āĻŽোāĻā§ে āĻāĻļাāϰা āĻĻিā§ে āĻāĻĨা āĻŦāϞāϞ। āĻিāύ্āϤু, āϏে āύিঃāĻļāĻŦ্āĻĻে āϤাāĻে āĻ āύুāϏāϰāĻŖ āĻāϰāϞ।
A corner of the tennis-court," she suggested. "But the band's going to be in one corner.
"āĻāĻা āϤো āĻেāύিāϏ āĻোāϰ্āĻেāϰ āĻāĻ āĻোāĻŖাā§āĻ āĻšāϤে āĻĒাāϰে", āϏে āĻĒāϰাāĻŽāϰ্āĻļ āĻĻিāϞ। "āĻিāύ্āϤু āĻāĻāϧাāϰে āϤো āĻāĻŦাāϰ āĻŦাāĻāύাāĻŦাāĻĻāĻেāϰা āĻŦāϏāĻŦে।"
"
"H'm, going to have a band, are you?" said another of the workmen. He was pale. He had a haggard look as his dark eyes scanned the tennis-court. What was he thinking?
"āĻšুāĻŽ, āϤাāĻšāϞে āĻāĻĒāύি āĻŦাāĻāύাāϰ āĻŦ্āϝāĻŦāϏ্āĻĨাāĻ āĻāϰেāĻেāύ āĻĻেāĻāĻি" āĻāϰেāĻāĻāύ - āĻāϰ্āĻŽāĻাāϰী āĻŦāϞāϞ। āϤাāĻে āĻুāĻŦ āĻŦিāĻŦāϰ্āĻŖ āĻĻেāĻাāĻ্āĻিāϞ। āĻীāϰ্āĻŖāĻাā§ āϞোāĻāĻি āϤাāϰ āĻাāϞো āĻোāĻ āĻĻুāĻি āĻĻিā§ে āĻেāύিāϏ āĻোāϰ্āĻāĻি āĻুঁāĻিā§ে āĻĻেāĻāϤে āĻĨাāĻāϞ। āĻি āĻাāĻŦāĻিāϞ āϏে?
"Only a very small band," said Laura gently. Perhaps he wouldn't mind so much if the band was quite small. But the tall fellow interrupted.
"āĻুāĻŦ āĻোāĻ্āĻ āĻŦাāĻāύাāĻŦাāĻĻāĻেāϰ āĻĻāϞ" āϞ্āϝāϰা āύāĻŽ্āϰāĻাāĻŦে āĻŦāϞāϞ। āϝāĻĻিāĻ āĻŦ্āϝাāύ্āĻĄāĻি āĻোāĻ āĻšāϞে āϤাāϰ āĻিāĻু āϝাā§ āĻāϏāĻŦে āύা। āĻিāύ্āϤু āϞāĻŽ্āĻŦা āϞোāĻāĻি āϤাāϰ (āϞ্āϝāϰাāϰ) āĻāĻĨাāϰ āĻŽāϧ্āϝে āĻāĻĨা āĻŦāϞāϞ।
Look here, miss, that's the place. Against those trees. Over there. That'll do fine." Against the karakas. Then the karaka-trees would be hidden. And they were so lovely, with their broad, gleaming leaves, and their clusters of yellow fruit. They were like trees you imagined growing on a desert island, proud, solitary, lifting their leaves and fruits to the sun in a kind of silent splendour. Must they be hidden by a marquee?
"āĻāĻĻিāĻে āϤাāĻাāύ, āĻŽিāϏ, āĻāĻ āĻাā§āĻাāĻা āĻāĻাāύেāĻ āĻ িāĻāĻ াāĻ āĻšāĻŦে।" āĻāĻ āĻাāĻāĻুāϞিāϰ āĻাāĻে। āĻāĻāĻাāύে।
āĻাāϰাāĻা āĻাāĻ āĻুāϞোāϰ āĻাāĻে,āϤাāĻšāϞে āĻāĻŦাāϰ āĻাāϰাāĻা āĻাāĻ āĻুāϞো āĻĸেāĻে āϝাāĻŦে।āĻাāĻāĻুāϞি āĻি āϏুāύ্āĻĻāϰ, āĻŦā§ āĻŦā§ āĻāĻāĻāĻে āĻĒাāϤা āĻāϰ āĻĨোāĻা āĻĨোāĻা āĻšāϞুāĻĻ āĻĢāϞ āĻāϰ্āϤি। āĻ িāĻ āϝেāύ āĻŽāϰুāĻূāĻŽিāϰ āĻŽাāĻে āĻŦেā§ে āĻāĻ া āĻāĻাāĻী āĻāϰ্āĻŦিāϤ āĻāĻāĻি āĻাāϞ্āĻĒāύিāĻ āĻাāĻ āϝে āϤাāϰ āĻĒাāϤা āĻāϰ āĻĢāϞāĻুāϞি āϏূāϰ্āϝেāϰ āĻĒাāύে āĻŽেāϞে āϧāϰে। āϏাāĻŽাāύ্āϝ āĻāĻāĻা āϤাঁāĻŦুāϰ āĻাāϰāĻŖে āϏেāĻুāϞিāĻে āĻĸাāĻা āĻি āĻĻিāϤেāĻ āĻšāĻŦে?
They must. Already the men had shouldered their staves and were making for the place. Only the tall fellow was left. He bent down, pinched a sprig of lavender, put his thumb and forefinger to his nose and snuffed up the smell.
āĻĸাāĻা āĻĒā§āĻŦেāĻ। āĻāϤিāĻŽāϧ্āϝেāĻ āϞোāĻāĻুāϞি āϤাāĻĻেāϰ āĻাঁāϧ āĻĨেāĻে āϞাāĻ িāĻুāϞি āύাāĻŽিā§ে āĻাā§āĻাāĻা āϤৈāϰি āĻāϰāϤে āϞেāĻে āĻĒā§েāĻে। āĻļুāϧুāĻŽাāϤ্āϰ āϞāĻŽ্āĻŦা āϞোāĻāĻি āĻŦাāĻĻে। āϏে āύীāĻু āĻšāϞ, āϞ্āϝাāĻেāύ্āĻĄাāϰেāϰ āĻĨেāĻে āĻāĻāĻু āĻĢেঁāĻā§ি āĻিā§āϞ, āĻāϰ āϤাāϰ āĻĻুāĻি āĻāĻুāϞ āύাāĻেāϰ āϏাāĻŽāύে āϧāϰāϞ āĻāύ্āϧ āύিāϤে।
When Laura saw that gesture she forgot all about the karakas in her wonder at him caring for things like that-caring for the smell of lavender. How many men that she knew would have done such a thing? Oh, how extraordinarily nice workmen were, she thought.
āϞ্āϝাāĻেāύ্āĻĄাāϰেāϰ āĻāύ্āϧ āύেāĻā§াāϰ āĻāύ্āϝ āϞোāĻāĻিāϰ āĻāĻ্āĻিāĻŽা āĻĻেāĻে āϞ্āϝāϰা āĻাāϰাāĻা āĻাāĻāĻুāϞিāϰ āĻāĻĨা āĻুāϞে āĻিā§ে āĻŦিāϏ্āĻŽā§েāϰ āϏāĻ্āĻে āĻাāĻŦāϞ āϏাāĻŽাāύ্āϝ āĻāύ্āϧ, āϞ্āϝাāĻেāύ্āĻĄাāϰেāϰ āĻāύ্āϧ āύেāĻā§াāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϤিāĻ āϞোāĻāĻি āĻāϤ āϝāϤ্āύāĻŦাāύ।
āϤাāϰ āĻেāύাāĻাāύা āĻāϤāĻāύ āĻŽাāύুāώ āĻāϰāĻāĻŽ āĻāĻāĻা āĻাāĻ āĻāϰāĻŦে? āĻāĻ āĻāϰ্āĻŽāĻীāĻŦি āĻŽাāύুāώāĻুāϞি āĻāϤāĻ āύা āϏāĻšāĻ, āϏāϰāϞ āϏে āĻাāĻŦāϞ।
Why couldn't she have workmen for her friends rather than the silly boys she danced with and who came to Sunday night supper? She would get on much better with men like these.
āϏে āĻাāĻŦāϞ, āĻেāύ āϏে āĻāĻāϏāĻŦ āĻāϰ্āĻŽāĻীāĻŦি āĻŽাāύুāώেāϰ āϏাāĻĨে āĻŦāύ্āϧুāϤ্āĻŦ āύা āĻāϰে āĻŽূāϰ্āĻ āĻেāϞেāĻুāϞিāϰ āϏাāĻĨে āύাāĻে āϝাāϰা āϰāĻŦিāĻŦাāϰ āύৈāĻļāĻোāĻে āĻāĻŽāύ্āϤ্āϰিāϤ āĻšā§ে āĻĨাāĻে? āĻāĻ āĻāϰ্āĻŽāĻীāĻŦি āĻŽাāύুāώāĻুāϞোāϰ āϏāĻ্āĻে āϏে āĻ āύেāĻ āĻোāϞাāĻŽেāϞাāĻাāĻŦে āĻŽিāĻļāϤে āĻĒাāϰāĻŦে।
It's all the fault, she decided, as the tall fellow drew something on the back of an envelope, something that was to be looped up or left to hang, of these absurd class distinctions. Well, for her part, she didn't feel them. Not a bit, not an atom. ...And now there came the chock-chock of wooden hammers.
āĻāĻা āϤাāϰāĻ āĻুāϞ, āϏে āĻাāĻŦāϞ, āϞāĻŽ্āĻŦা āϞোāĻāĻি āϏেāĻ āϏāĻŽā§ āĻāĻāĻি āĻাāĻŽেāϰ āĻĒিāĻāύে āĻিāĻু āĻāĻāĻা āĻঁāĻāϞ, āĻিāĻু āĻāĻāĻা āϝেāĻা āĻĢাঁāϏ āĻĻিā§ে āĻুāϞিā§ে āϰাāĻা āϝাā§, āĻ āϝৌāĻ্āϤিāĻ āĻļ্āϰেāĻŖীāĻŦৈāώāĻŽ্āϝেāϰ āĻāĻ্āĻিāϤāĻĒূāϰ্āĻŖ āĻিāĻু। āϤাāϰ (āϞ্āϝāϰাāϰ) āĻাāĻে āĻāϏāĻŦেāϰ āĻোāύো āĻ āϰ্āĻĨāĻ āύেāĻ। āĻāĻ āĻĢোঁāĻাāĻ āύā§, āĻ āĻŖুāĻĒāϰিāĻŽাāĻŖāĻ āύā§... āĻāϰ āϏেāĻāϏāĻ্āĻে āĻাāĻ েāϰ āĻšাāϤুā§িāϰ āĻ āĻāĻ āĻ āĻāĻā§াāĻ āĻেāϏে āĻāϞো।
Someone whistled, someone sang out, "Are you right there, matey?" "Matey!" The friendliness of it, the-the-Just to prove how happy she was, just to show the tall fellow how at home she felt, and how she despised stupid conventions, Laura took a big bite of her bread-and-butter as she stared at the little drawing. She felt just like a work-girl.
āĻেāĻ āĻāĻāĻāύ āĻļিāϏ āĻĻিā§ে āĻāĻ āϞ, āĻেāĻ āĻāĻāĻāύ āϏুāϰ āĻāϰে āĻŦāϞে āĻāĻ āϞ, "āĻŽ্āϝাāĻি, āĻāĻাāύে āĻāĻো āĻি?" "āĻŽ্āϝাāĻি।" āĻুāĻŦāĻ āĻŦāύ্āϧুāϤ্āĻŦāĻĒূāϰ্āĻŖ āϏেāĻ āϏ্āĻŦāϰ, āϏেāĻ-āϏেāĻ āĻ িāĻ āϝেāύ āĻāĻা āĻĒ্āϰāĻŽাāĻŖ āĻāϰাāϰ āĻāύ্āϝ āϝে āϏে (āϞ্āϝāϰা) āĻুāĻļিāϤে āĻĄāĻāĻŽāĻ, āϞāĻŽ্āĻŦা āϞোāĻāĻিāĻে āĻŦোāĻাāύোāϰ āĻāύ্āϝ āϝে āϏে āĻুāĻŦāĻ āϏ্āĻŦাāĻ্āĻāύ্āĻĻ্āϝে āĻāĻে, āĻāĻŦং āĻāĻা āĻĻেāĻাāύোāϰ āĻāύ্āϝ āϝে āϏে (āϞ্āϝāϰা) āĻĒ্āϰāĻāϞিāϤ āϏংāϏ্āĻাāϰāĻুāϞিāĻে āĻāϤāĻা āĻ āĻŦāĻ্āĻা āĻāϰে, āϞ্āϝāϰা āϤাāϰ āĻŽাāĻāύ āĻŽাāĻাāύো āϰুāĻিāϰ āĻুāĻāϰোāĻাā§ āϞāĻŽ্āĻŦা āĻাāĻŽā§ āĻĻিāϞ āĻāϰ āĻোāĻ্āĻ āĻঁāĻাāĻিāϰ āĻĻিāĻে āĻ্āώāĻŖিāĻ āϤাāĻাāϞো। āϏে āĻ āύুāĻāĻŦ āĻāϰāϞ āϝে āϏে āĻুāĻŦāĻ āĻŦ্āϝāϏ্āϤ āĻŽāĻšিāϞা। "
Laura, Laura, where are you? Telephone, Laura!" a voice cried from the house. "Coming!" Away she skimmed, over the lawn, up the path, up the steps, across the veranda, and into the porch. In the hall her father and Laurie were brushing their hats ready to go to the office.
āϞ্āϝāϰা, āϞ্āϝāϰা, āĻোāĻĨাā§ āϤুāĻŽি? āĻেāϞিāĻĢোāύ, āϞ্āϝāϰা।" āĻŦাā§িāϰ āĻিāϤāϰ āĻĨেāĻে āĻঁāĻু āĻāϞাāϰ āĻিā§āĻাāϰ āĻļোāύা āĻেāϞ।
"āĻāϏāĻি।" āϏে āĻিā§āĻাāϰ āĻāϰāϞ, āϏে āϞāύ āĻĻিā§ে āϧীāϰে āϏুāϏ্āĻĨে āĻšেঁāĻে āĻĒāĻĨে āĻāĻ ে, āϏিঁā§ি āĻেāĻে āĻŦাāϰাāύ্āĻĻা āĻĒাāϰ āĻšā§ে āĻাā§ি āĻŦাāϰাāύ্āĻĻাā§ āĻāĻ āϞ। āĻšāϞāĻāϰে āϤাāϰ āĻŦাāĻŦা āĻāĻŦং āϞ্āϝāϰি āϤāĻāύ āĻŦ্āϰাāĻļ āĻĻিā§ে āϤাāĻĻেāϰ āĻুāĻĒিāĻুāϞি āĻেā§ে āĻĒāϰিāώ্āĻাāϰ āĻāϰāĻিāϞেāύ āĻ āĻĢিāϏে āϝাāĻŦাāϰ āĻāύ্āϝ āϤৈāϰি āĻšā§ে।
"I say, Laura," said Laurie very fast, "you might just give a squiz at my coat before this afternoon. See if it wants pressing." "I will," said she. Suddenly she couldn't stop herself. She ran at Laurie and gave him a small, quick squeeze. "Oh, I do love parties, don't you?" gasped Laura
"āĻāĻŽি āĻŦāϞāĻি, āϞাāϰা," āϞ্āϝāϰি āĻĻ্āϰুāϤ āĻŦāϞāϞ, "āϤুāĻŽি āĻŦিāĻাāϞেāϰ āĻāĻে āĻāĻŽাāϰ āĻোāĻāĻা āĻāĻāĻু āĻŽুāĻā§ে āĻĻেāĻāϤে āĻĒাāϰো। āĻĻেāĻো, āĻāϏ্āϤিāϰি āĻāϰাāϰ āĻĒ্āϰā§োāĻāύ āĻāĻে āĻিāύা।" "āĻĻেāĻāĻŦ", āϏে āĻŦāϞāϞ। āĻāϰ āύিāĻেāĻে āϰোāϧ āĻāϰāϤে āύা āĻĒেāϰে āĻšāĻ াā§ āĻāϰে āĻিā§ে āϞ্āϝāϰিāĻে āĻāϞিāĻ্āĻāύ āĻāϰāϞ। "āĻāĻš, āĻĒাāϰ্āĻি āĻāϰāϤে āĻāĻŽাāϰ āĻি āĻাāϞোāĻ āύা āϞাāĻে, āϤোāĻŽাāϰ āϞাāĻে āύা?" āĻāĻ āύিঃāĻļ্āĻŦাāϏে āϞ্āϝāϰা āĻŦāϞāϞ।
.
"
"Ra-ther," said Laurie's warm, boyish voice, and he squeezed his sister too, and gave her a gentle push. "Dash off to the telephone, old girl."
The telephone. "Yes, yes; oh yes. Kitty? Good morning, dear. Come to lunch?
Do, dear. Delighted of course. It will only be a very scratch meal-just the sandwich
crusts and broken meringue-shells and what's left over. Yes, isn't it a perfect
morning? Your white? Oh, I certainly should. One moment-hold the line.
Mother's calling." And Laura sat back. "What, mother? Can't hear."
Mrs. Sheridan's voice floated down the stairs. "Tell her to wear that sweet hat she had on last Sunday."
"
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