Chapter 19
第十九章
I had not announced my arrival to Stroeve, and when I rang the bell of his studio, on opening the door himself, for a moment he did not know me. Then he gave a cry of delighted surprise and drew me in. It was charming to be welcomed with so much eagerness. His wife was seated near the stove at her sewing, and she rose as I came in. He introduced me.
事先我没有告诉施特略夫我要到巴黎来。我按了门铃，开门的是施特略夫本人，一下子他没有认出我是谁来。但是马上他就又惊又喜地喊叫起来，赶忙把我拉进屋子里去。受到这样热情的欢迎真是一件叫人高兴的事。他的妻子正坐在炉边做针线活，看见我进来她站起身来。施特略夫把我介绍给她。
Don't you remember? he said to her. "I've talked to you about him often." And then to me: "But why didn't you let me know you were coming? How long have you been here? How long are you going to stay? Why didn't you come an hour earlier, and we would have dined together?"
“你还记得吗？”他对她说，“我常常同你谈到他。”接着他又对我说：“可是你到巴黎来干嘛不告诉我一声啊？你到巴黎多少天了？你准备待多久？为什么你不早来一个小时，咱们一起吃晚饭？”
He bombarded me with questions. He sat me down in a chair, patting me as though I were a cushion, pressed cigars upon me, cakes, wine. He could not let me alone. He was heart-broken because he had no whisky, wanted to make coffee for me, racked his brain for something he could possibly do for me, and beamed and laughed, and in the exuberance of his delight sweated at every pore.
他劈头盖脸地问了我一大堆问题。他让我坐在一把椅子上，把我当靠垫似地拍打着，又是叫我吸雪茄，又是让我吃蛋糕，喝酒。他一分钟也不叫我停闲。因为家里没有威士忌，他简直伤心极了。他要给我煮咖啡，绞尽脑汁地想还能招待我些什么。他乐得脸上开了花，每一个汗毛孔都往外冒汗珠。
You haven't changed, I said, smiling, as I looked at him.
“你还是老样子，”我一面打量着他，一面笑着说。
He had the same absurd appearance that I remembered. He was a fat little man, with short legs, young still—he could not have been more than thirty—but prematurely bald. His face was perfectly round, and he had a very high colour, a white skin, red cheeks, and red lips. His eyes were blue and round too, he wore large gold-rimmed spectacles, and his eyebrows were so fair that you could not see them. He reminded you of those jolly, fat merchants that Rubens painted.
他的样子同我记忆中的一样，还是那么惹人发笑。他的身材又矮又胖，一双小短腿。他年纪还很轻——最多也不过三十岁——，可是却已经秃顶了。他生着一张滚圆的脸，面色红润，皮肤很白，两颊同嘴唇却总是红通通的。他的一双蓝眼睛也生得滚圆，戴着一副金边大眼镜，眉毛很淡，几乎看不出来。看到他，你不由会想到鲁宾斯画的那些一团和气的胖商人。