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Our story today is called "The Line of Least Resistance1". It was written by It was written by Edith Wharton. Here is Larry West with the story.
Mr. Mindon returned home for lunch. His wife Millicent was not at home. The servants did not know where she was.
Mr. Mindon sat alone at the table in the garden. He ate a small piece of meat and drank some mineral water. Mr. Mindon always ate simple meals, because he had problems with his stomach. Why then did he keep a cook among his servants? Because his wife Millicent liked to invite her friends to big dinners and serve them rare2 and expensive food and wine. Mr. Mindon did not enjoy his wife's parties. Millicent complained that he did not know how to enjoy life. She did a lot of things that he did not like. Millicent wasted Mr. Mindon's money and was unpleasant3 to him. But he never got angry with his wife.
After eating, Mr. Mindon took a walk through his house. He did not stay long in the living room. It reminded him of all the hours he had spent there at his wife's parties. The sight of the formal dining room made him feel even more uncomfortable. He remembered the long dinners where he had to talk to his wife's friends for hours. They never seemed very interested in what he was saying.
Mr. Mindon walked quickly past the ballroom4 where his wife danced with her friends. He would go to bed after dinner. But he could hear the orchestra5 playing until three in the morning. Mr. Mindon walked into the library. No one in the house ever read any of the books. But Mr. Mindon was proud to be rich enough to have a perfectly6 useless room in his house.
He went into the sunny little room where his wife planned her busy days in the evenings. Her writing table was covered with notes and cards from all her friends. Her wastepaper basket was full of empty envelopes that had carried invitations to lunches, dinners, and theater parties. Mr. Mindon saw a letter crushed7 into a small ball on the floor. He bent8 to pick it up. Just as he was about to throw it into the wastepaper basket, he noticed that the letter was signed by his business partner, Thomas Antrim. But Antrim's letter to Mr. Mindon's wife was not about business. As Mr. Mindon read it, he felt as if his mind was spinning9 out of control. He sat down heavily in the chair near his wife's little writing table. Now the room looked cold and unfamiliar10.
"Who are you?" the walls seemed to say.
"Who am I?" Mr. Mindon said in a loud voice, "I'll tell you who I am! I am the man who paid for every piece of furniture in this room. If it were not for me and my money, this room would be empty!"
Suddenly, Mr. Mindon felt taller. He marched across his wife's room. It belonged to him, didn't it? The house belonged to him, too. He felt powerful11. He sat at the table and wrote a letter to Millicent.
One of the servants came into the room, "Did you call, Sir?" he asked.
"No," Mr. Mindon replied, "but since you are here, please telephone for a taxicab at once."
The taxi took him to a hotel near his bank. A clerk showed him to his room. It smelled of cheap soap. The window in the room was open and hot noises came up from the street. Mr. Mindon looked at his watch. Four o'clock. He wondered if Millicent had come home yet and read his letter.
His head began to ache12, and Mr. Mindon laid down on the bed. When he woke up, it was dark. He looked at his watch. Eight o'clock. Millicent must be dressing13 for dinner. They were supposed to go to Mrs. Targe's house for dinner tonight. Now, Mr. Mindon thought, Millicent would have to go alone. Maybe she would ask Thomas Antrim to take her to the party.
Mr. Mindon realized he was hungry. He left his room and walked down the stairs to the hotel dining room. The air smelling of coffee and fried14 food wrapped15 itself around his head. Mr. Mindon could not eat much of the food that the hotel waiter brought him. He went back to his room, feeling sick. He also felt hot and dirty in the clothing he had worn16 all day. He had never realized how much he loved his home!
Someone knocked at his door. Mr. Mindon jumped to his feet.
"Mindon?" a voice asked, "Are you there?"
Mr. Mindon recognized that voice. It belonged to Laurence Meysy. Thirty years ago, Meysy had been very popular with women, especially with other men's wives. As a young man he had interfered17 in many marriages. Now, in his old age, Laurence Meysy had become a kind of "marriage doctor." He helped husbands and wives save their marriages.
Mr. Mindon began to feel better as soon as Laurence Meysy walked into his hotel room. Two men followed him. One was Mr. Mindon's rich uncle, Ezra Brownrigg. The other was the Reverend Doctor Bonifant, the minister of Saint18 Luke's church where Mr. Mindon and his family prayed every Sunday. Mr. Mindon looked at the three men and felt very proud that they had come to help him. For the first time in his married life, Mr. Mindon felt as important as his wife Millicent.
Laurence Meysy sat on the edge19 of the bed and lit a cigarette.
"Mrs. Mindon sent for me," he said. Mr. Mindon could not help feeling proud of Millicent. She had done the right thing. Meysy continued, "She showed me your letter. She asks you for mercy20." Meysy paused21, and then said, "The poor woman is very unhappy and we have come here to ask you what you plan to do."
Now Mr. Mindon began to feel uncomfortable. "To do?" he asked. "To do? Well, I, I plan to, to leave her."
Meysy stopped smoking22 his cigarette. "Do you want to divorce23 her?" he asked.
"Why, yes! Yes!" Mr. Mindon replied.
Meysy knocked the ashes from his cigarette. "Are you absolutely sure that you want to do this?" he asked.
Mr. Mindon nodded his head. "I plan to divorce her," he said loudly.
Mr. Mindon began to feel very excited. It was the first time he had ever had so many people sitting and listening to him. He told his audience everything, beginning with his discovery of his wife's love affair with his business partner, and ending with his complaints24 about her expensive dinner parties.
His uncle looked at his watch. Doctor Bonifant began to stare out of the hotel window. Meysy stood up. "Do you plan to dishonor yourself then?" he asked. "No one knows what has happened. You are the only one who can reveal25 the secret. You will make yourself look foolish."
Mr. Mindon tried to rise but he fell back weakly. The three men picked up their hats. In another moment, they would be gone. When they left, Mr. Mindon would lose his audience, and his belief in himself and his decision. "I won't leave for New York until tomorrow," he whispered26. Laurence Meysy smiled.
"Tomorrow will be too late," he said. "tomorrow everyone will know you are here." Meysy opened the hotel room door. Mr. Brownrigg and Doctor Bonifant walked out of the room. Meysy turned to follow them when he felt Mr. Mindon's hand grab27 his arm. "I, I will come with you," Mr. Mindon sighed, "It's, it's, for the children." Laurence Meysy nodded as Mr. Mindon walked out of the room. He closed the door gently.
You have just heard the story "The Line of Least Resistance." It was written by Edith Wharton and adapted for Special English by Dona D. Santis. Your storyteller was Larry West. For VOA Special English, this is Shep O'Neal.
Mr. Mindon returned home for lunch. His wife Millicent was not at home. The servants did not know where she was.
Mr. Mindon sat alone at the table in the garden. He ate a small piece of meat and drank some mineral water. Mr. Mindon always ate simple meals, because he had problems with his stomach. Why then did he keep a cook among his servants? Because his wife Millicent liked to invite her friends to big dinners and serve them rare2 and expensive food and wine. Mr. Mindon did not enjoy his wife's parties. Millicent complained that he did not know how to enjoy life. She did a lot of things that he did not like. Millicent wasted Mr. Mindon's money and was unpleasant3 to him. But he never got angry with his wife.
After eating, Mr. Mindon took a walk through his house. He did not stay long in the living room. It reminded him of all the hours he had spent there at his wife's parties. The sight of the formal dining room made him feel even more uncomfortable. He remembered the long dinners where he had to talk to his wife's friends for hours. They never seemed very interested in what he was saying.
Mr. Mindon walked quickly past the ballroom4 where his wife danced with her friends. He would go to bed after dinner. But he could hear the orchestra5 playing until three in the morning. Mr. Mindon walked into the library. No one in the house ever read any of the books. But Mr. Mindon was proud to be rich enough to have a perfectly6 useless room in his house.
He went into the sunny little room where his wife planned her busy days in the evenings. Her writing table was covered with notes and cards from all her friends. Her wastepaper basket was full of empty envelopes that had carried invitations to lunches, dinners, and theater parties. Mr. Mindon saw a letter crushed7 into a small ball on the floor. He bent8 to pick it up. Just as he was about to throw it into the wastepaper basket, he noticed that the letter was signed by his business partner, Thomas Antrim. But Antrim's letter to Mr. Mindon's wife was not about business. As Mr. Mindon read it, he felt as if his mind was spinning9 out of control. He sat down heavily in the chair near his wife's little writing table. Now the room looked cold and unfamiliar10.
"Who are you?" the walls seemed to say.
"Who am I?" Mr. Mindon said in a loud voice, "I'll tell you who I am! I am the man who paid for every piece of furniture in this room. If it were not for me and my money, this room would be empty!"
Suddenly, Mr. Mindon felt taller. He marched across his wife's room. It belonged to him, didn't it? The house belonged to him, too. He felt powerful11. He sat at the table and wrote a letter to Millicent.
One of the servants came into the room, "Did you call, Sir?" he asked.
"No," Mr. Mindon replied, "but since you are here, please telephone for a taxicab at once."
The taxi took him to a hotel near his bank. A clerk showed him to his room. It smelled of cheap soap. The window in the room was open and hot noises came up from the street. Mr. Mindon looked at his watch. Four o'clock. He wondered if Millicent had come home yet and read his letter.
His head began to ache12, and Mr. Mindon laid down on the bed. When he woke up, it was dark. He looked at his watch. Eight o'clock. Millicent must be dressing13 for dinner. They were supposed to go to Mrs. Targe's house for dinner tonight. Now, Mr. Mindon thought, Millicent would have to go alone. Maybe she would ask Thomas Antrim to take her to the party.
Mr. Mindon realized he was hungry. He left his room and walked down the stairs to the hotel dining room. The air smelling of coffee and fried14 food wrapped15 itself around his head. Mr. Mindon could not eat much of the food that the hotel waiter brought him. He went back to his room, feeling sick. He also felt hot and dirty in the clothing he had worn16 all day. He had never realized how much he loved his home!
Someone knocked at his door. Mr. Mindon jumped to his feet.
"Mindon?" a voice asked, "Are you there?"
Mr. Mindon recognized that voice. It belonged to Laurence Meysy. Thirty years ago, Meysy had been very popular with women, especially with other men's wives. As a young man he had interfered17 in many marriages. Now, in his old age, Laurence Meysy had become a kind of "marriage doctor." He helped husbands and wives save their marriages.
Mr. Mindon began to feel better as soon as Laurence Meysy walked into his hotel room. Two men followed him. One was Mr. Mindon's rich uncle, Ezra Brownrigg. The other was the Reverend Doctor Bonifant, the minister of Saint18 Luke's church where Mr. Mindon and his family prayed every Sunday. Mr. Mindon looked at the three men and felt very proud that they had come to help him. For the first time in his married life, Mr. Mindon felt as important as his wife Millicent.
Laurence Meysy sat on the edge19 of the bed and lit a cigarette.
"Mrs. Mindon sent for me," he said. Mr. Mindon could not help feeling proud of Millicent. She had done the right thing. Meysy continued, "She showed me your letter. She asks you for mercy20." Meysy paused21, and then said, "The poor woman is very unhappy and we have come here to ask you what you plan to do."
Now Mr. Mindon began to feel uncomfortable. "To do?" he asked. "To do? Well, I, I plan to, to leave her."
Meysy stopped smoking22 his cigarette. "Do you want to divorce23 her?" he asked.
"Why, yes! Yes!" Mr. Mindon replied.
Meysy knocked the ashes from his cigarette. "Are you absolutely sure that you want to do this?" he asked.
Mr. Mindon nodded his head. "I plan to divorce her," he said loudly.
Mr. Mindon began to feel very excited. It was the first time he had ever had so many people sitting and listening to him. He told his audience everything, beginning with his discovery of his wife's love affair with his business partner, and ending with his complaints24 about her expensive dinner parties.
His uncle looked at his watch. Doctor Bonifant began to stare out of the hotel window. Meysy stood up. "Do you plan to dishonor yourself then?" he asked. "No one knows what has happened. You are the only one who can reveal25 the secret. You will make yourself look foolish."
Mr. Mindon tried to rise but he fell back weakly. The three men picked up their hats. In another moment, they would be gone. When they left, Mr. Mindon would lose his audience, and his belief in himself and his decision. "I won't leave for New York until tomorrow," he whispered26. Laurence Meysy smiled.
"Tomorrow will be too late," he said. "tomorrow everyone will know you are here." Meysy opened the hotel room door. Mr. Brownrigg and Doctor Bonifant walked out of the room. Meysy turned to follow them when he felt Mr. Mindon's hand grab27 his arm. "I, I will come with you," Mr. Mindon sighed, "It's, it's, for the children." Laurence Meysy nodded as Mr. Mindon walked out of the room. He closed the door gently.
You have just heard the story "The Line of Least Resistance." It was written by Edith Wharton and adapted for Special English by Dona D. Santis. Your storyteller was Larry West. For VOA Special English, this is Shep O'Neal.
点击收听单词发音
1 resistance | |
n.抵抗力,反抗,反抗行动;阻力,电阻;反对;adj.抵抗的 | |
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2 rare | |
adj.稀罕的,罕有的,珍贵的,稀薄的,半熟的,非常的;adv.非常 | |
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3 unpleasant | |
adj.使人不愉快的,使人厌恶的,煞风景的 | |
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4 ballroom | |
n.舞厅 | |
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5 orchestra | |
n.管弦乐队;vt.命令,定购 | |
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6 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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7 crushed | |
a.压碎的,倒碎的 | |
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8 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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9 spinning | |
n.纺纱v.使…旋转( spin的现在分词 );纺(线);杜撰;(使)急转身 | |
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10 unfamiliar | |
adj.陌生的,不熟悉的 | |
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11 powerful | |
adj.有力的,有权力的,强大的 | |
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12 ache | |
n.疼痛;vi.痛,哀怜,渴望 | |
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13 dressing | |
n.(食物)调料;包扎伤口的用品,敷料 | |
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14 fried | |
adj.油煎的;油炒的 | |
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15 wrapped | |
adj.有包装的,预先包装的v.包( wrap的过去式和过去分词 );覆盖;用…包裹(或包扎、覆盖等);卷起 | |
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16 worn | |
adj.用旧的,疲倦的;vbl.wear的过去分词 | |
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17 interfered | |
v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 );调停;妨碍;干涉 | |
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18 saint | |
n.圣徒;基督教徒;vt.成为圣徒,把...视为圣徒 | |
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19 edge | |
n.边(缘);刃;优势;v.侧着移动,徐徐移动 | |
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20 mercy | |
n.仁慈,宽恕,怜悯 | |
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21 paused | |
v.停顿( pause的过去式和过去分词 );暂停;(按暂停键)暂停放音;暂停放像 | |
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22 smoking | |
n.吸烟,抽烟;冒烟 | |
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23 divorce | |
n.离婚;分离;vi.离婚;vt.离婚;脱离 | |
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24 complaints | |
抱怨( complaint的名词复数 ); 诉苦; 投诉; 疾病 | |
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25 reveal | |
vt.揭露,泄露;展现,显示 | |
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26 whispered | |
adj.耳语的,低语的v.低声说( whisper的过去式和过去分词 );私语;小声说;私下说 | |
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27 grab | |
vt./n.攫取,抓取;vi.攫取,抓住(at) | |
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