I remember very well the occasion on which I first saw Jane Fowler. It is indeed only because the details of the glimpse I had of her then are so clear that I trust my recollection at all, for, looking back, I must confess that I find it hard to believe that it has not played me a fantastic trick. I had lately returned to London from China and was drinking a dish of tea with Mrs. Tower. Mrs. Tower had been seized with the prevailing passion for decoration; and with the ruthlessness of her sex had sacrificed chairs in which she had comfortably sat for years, tables, cabinets, ornaments, on which her eyes had dwelt in peace since she was married, pictures that had been familiar to her for a generation; and delivered herself into the hands of an expert. Nothing remained in her drawing-room with which she had any association, or to which any sentiment was attached; and she had invited me that day to see the fashionable glory in which she now lived. Everything that could be pickled was pickled and what couldn’t be pickled was painted. Nothing matched, but everything harmonized.
"Do you remember that ridiculous drawing-room suite that I used to have (вы помните тот нелепый гостиничный гарнитур, который у меня был раньше; suite — комплект, набор)?" asked Mrs. Tower (спросила миссис Тауэр).
The curtains were sumptuous yet severe (занавески были роскошны, но все же/несмотря на это строги = строгого стиля; severe — строгий, суровый; простой/остиле/); the sofa was covered with Italian brocade (софа покрыта итальянской парчой; to cover with — покрыватьчем-либо); the chair on which I sat was in petit point (стул, на который я сел, был в крапинку: «в мелкую точку»; petit point — фр. вышивка мелкими стежками, каждый из которых перекрещивает одну вертикальную и одну горизонтальную нить). The room was beautiful (комната была прекрасна), opulent without garishness (богатая, но не кричащая: «но без показушности»; garish — показной, кричащий) and original without affectation (и оригинальная, но без искусственности; original — первоначальный; оригинальный, свежий); yet to me it lacked something (но все же мне в ней чего-то не хватало; yet — еще; даже;однако, темнеменее) and while I praised with my lips (и пока я расхваливал вслух: «губами») I asked myself (я спрашивал себя) why I so much preferred the rather shabby chintz of the despised suite (почему я сильно = больше предпочитаю довольно потрепанный ситец презираемого гарнитура = гарнитура, о котором она отозвалась с презрением; todespise — презирать), the Victorian water-colours (викторианские акварели) that I had known so long (которые мне столь давно знакомы = привычны), and the ridiculous Dresden china (и нелепый дрезденский фарфор) that had adorned the chimney piece (который украшал полку над камином; piece — кусок, часть; chimney piece — полканадкамином). I wondered (я спрашивал себя/задавался вопросом) what it was that I missed in all these rooms (что же это было, чего мне не хватало во всех этих комнатах) that the decorators were turning out with a profitable industry (которые декораторы украшали с доходным трудолюбием; profit — выгода, прибыль; to turn out — украшать, наряжать). Was it heart (было ли это сердце = может быть не хватало души)? But Mrs. Tower looked about her happily (но миссис Тауэр счастливо оглядывалась вокруг = смотрела на окружающие ее вещи с радостью).