That picture in a flower-painted frame now adorned the table of her little flat. It showed Mrs. Harris of thirty years ago, a tiny, thin-looking girl whose plain features were enhanced by the freshness of youth. Her hair was short-bobbed, the fashion of the day, and she wore a white muslin wedding dress tiered somewhat in the manner of a Chinese pagoda. In her posture there was already some hint of the courage and independence she was to display later when she became widowed.
The expression on her face was one of pride in the man she had captured (выражение ее лица было выражением гордости за мужчину, которого она завоевала;
capture ['kxpCq], troubled [trAbld], reproduce ["rJprq'djHs]
The expression on her face was one of pride in the man she had captured and who stood beside her, a nice-looking boy somewhat on the short side, wearing a dark suit and his hair carefully plastered down. As was becoming to his new status, he looked terrified. And thereafter nobody had ever again troubled to reproduce Mrs. Harris, nor had she so much as thought about it.
"Won't it cost a packet (разве это не будет дорого стоить: «не будет стоить пакет /денег/»;
"Ten bob for 'arf a dozen (десять шиллингов за половину дюжины;
"That's good of you, dearie (ты так добра, дорогая)," said Mrs. Butterfield, and meant it (сказала миссис Баттерфилд совершенно серьезно;
dozen [dAzn], reported [rI'pO:tId], meant [ment]
"Won't it cost a packet?" was Mrs. Butterfield's reaction to the dark side of things.
"Ten bob for 'arf a dozen," Mrs. Harris reported. "I saw an ad in the paper. I'll give you one of the extra ones if you like."
"That's good of you, dearie," said Mrs. Butterfield, and meant it.
"Ow Lor' (о Господи;
Two of Mrs. Butterfield's chins (два из подбородков миссис Баттерфилд) quivered at the impact of this revelation (вздрогнули под влиянием этого открытия). "Of course you will, dearie (конечно, дорогая), and that will cost a packet (и это будет стоить кучу денег)."
thought [TLt], quiver ['kwIvq], revelation ["revI'leISqn]
"Ow Lor'!" The exclamation was torn from Mrs. Harris as she was suddenly driven by a new thought. "Ow Lor'!" she repeated. "If I'm going to 'ave me photograff tyken I'll 'ave to 'ave a new 'at."
Two of Mrs. Butterfield's chins quivered at the impact of this revelation. "Of course you will, dearie, and that will cost a packet."