Donde la madre de
Winnie siente satisfacción por Verloc, de la condición y preocupación por su
hijo Stevie, y de cómo se acomodaron a la casa de Verloc. Del original
ingles The
Secret Agent, de Joseph Conrad
In Winnie’s
mother’s opinion Mr Verloc was a very nice gentleman. From her life’s
experience gathered in various “business houses” the good woman had taken into
her retirement an ideal of gentlemanliness as exhibited by the customers of
private-saloon bars. Mr Verloc approached that ideal; he attained it, in
fact.
“Of course, we’ll take over your furniture,
mother,” Winnie had remarked.
The
lodging-house was to be given up. It seems it would not answer to carry
it on. It would have been too much trouble for Mr Verloc. It would
not have been convenient for his other business. What his business was he
did not say; but after his engagement to Winnie he took the trouble to get up
before noon, and descending the basement stairs, make himself pleasant to Winnie’s
mother in the breakfast-room downstairs where she had her motionless
being. He stroked the cat, poked the fire, had his lunch served to him
there. He left its slightly stuffy cosiness with evident reluctance, but,
all the same, remained out till the night was far advanced. He never
offered to take Winnie to theatres, as such a nice gentleman ought to have
done. His evenings were occupied. His work was in a way political,
he told Winnie once. She would have, he warned her, to be very nice to
his political friends.
And with her
straight, profound glance she answered that she would be so, of course.
How much more
he told her as to his occupation it was impossible for Winnie’s mother to
discover. The married couple took her over with the furniture. The
mean aspect of the shop surprised her. The change from the Belgravian
square to the narrow street in Soho affected her legs adversely. They
became of an enormous size. On the other hand, she experienced a complete
relief from material cares. Her son-in-law’s heavy good nature inspired
her with a sense of absolute safety. Her daughter’s future was obviously
assured, and even as to her son Stevie she need have no anxiety. She had
not been able to conceal from herself that he was a terrible burden, that poor
Stevie. But in view of Winnie’s fondness for her delicate brother, and of
Mr Verloc’s kind and generous disposition, she felt that the poor boy was
pretty safe in this rough world. And in her heart of hearts she was not
perhaps displeased that the Verlocs had no children. As that circumstance
seemed perfectly indifferent to Mr Verloc, and as Winnie found an object of
quasi-maternal affection in her brother, perhaps this was just as well for poor
Stevie.
For he was
difficult to dispose of, that boy. He was delicate and, in a frail way,
good-looking too, except for the vacant droop
of his lower lip. Under our excellent system of compulsory education he
had learned to read and write, in spite of the unfavourable aspect of the lower
lip. But as errand-boy he did not turn out a great success. He
forgot his messages; he was easily diverted from the straight path of duty by
the attractions of stray cats and dogs, which he followed down narrow alleys
into unpleasant courts; by the comedies of the streets, which he contemplated
open-mouthed, to the detriment of his employer’s interests; or by the dramas of
fallen horses, whose tragedy and violence induced him sometimes to shriek
pierceingly in a crowd, which disliked to be disturbed by sounds of distress in
its quiet enjoyment of the national spectacle. When led away by a grave
and protecting policeman, it would often become apparent that poor Stevie had
forgotten his address—at least for a time. A brusque question caused him
to stutter to the point of suffocation. When startled by anything
perplexing he used to squint
horribly. However, he never had any fits (which was encouraging); and
before the natural outbursts of impatience on the part of his father he could
always, in his childhood’s days, run for protection behind the short skirts of
his sister Winnie. On the other hand, he might have been suspected of
hiding a fund of reckless disobedience. When he had reached the age of
fourteen a friend of his late father, an agent for a foreign preserved milk
firm, having given him an opening as office-boy, he was discovered one foggy
afternoon, in his chief’s absence, busy letting off fireworks on the
staircase. He initiated in quick succession a set of fierce rockets,
angry catherine wheels, loudly
exploding squibs—and the matter
might have turned out very serious. An awful panic spread through the
whole building. Wild-eyed, choking clerks stampeded through the passages
full of smoke, silk hats and elderly business men could be seen rolling
independently down the stairs. Stevie did not seem to derive any personal
gratification from what he had done. His motives for this stroke of
originality were difficult to discover. It was only later on that Winnie
obtained from him a vague and confused confession. It seems that two
other office-boys in the building had worked upon his feelings by tales of
injustice and oppression till they had created his compassion to the pitch of
that frenzy. But his father’s friend, of course, dismissed him summarily
as likely to ruin his business. After that altruistic exploit Stevie was
put to help wash the dishes in the basement kitchen, and to black the boots of
the gentlemen patronising the Belgravian mansion. There was obviously no
future in such work. The gentlemen tipped him a shilling now and
then. Mr Verloc showed himself the most generous of lodgers. But
altogether all that did not amount to much either in the way of gain or
prospects; so that when Winnie announced her engagement to Mr Verloc her mother
could not help wondering, with a sigh and a glance towards the scullery, what would become of poor
Stephen now.
It appeared
that Mr Verloc was ready to take him over together with his wife’s mother and
with the furniture, which was the whole visible fortune of the family. Mr
Verloc gathered everything as it came to his broad, good-natured breast.
The furniture was disposed to the best advantage all over the house, but Mrs
Verloc’s mother was confined to two back rooms on the first floor. The
luckless Stevie slept in one of them. By this time a growth of thin soft
hair had come to blur, like a golden
mist, the sharp line of his small lower jaw. He helped his sister with
blind love and docility in her household duties. Mr Verloc thought that
some occupation would be good for him. His spare time he occupied by
drawing circles with compass and pencil on a piece of paper. He applied
himself to that pastime with great industry, with his elbows spread out and
bowed low over the kitchen table. Through the open door of the parlour at
the back of the shop Winnie, his sister, glanced at him from time to time with
maternal vigilance. (Ingles más fácil con
sinónimos y vocabulario comprensivo)
Nombres
Soho Stevie
Vocabulario
Droop squint catherine wheels squibs scullery blur
Ideas principales
Although
Winnie´s mother did not know much about Verloc she liked him. She saw that he
cared about her son, Stevie.
Stevie could
learn to read and write but was unable to concentrate. He helped Winnie with
the household.
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