The wind had risen again and was driving dark masses of cloud across the sky; in the west a sullen4 red flared5 up from behind the hills, touching6 the lower edges of the vaporous mountains with purple. In a small, clear space above the red hung the silver sickle7 of the new moon, and near it shone a single star.... Lydia was like that star, he told himself—as wonderful, as remote.
There were lights in the windows of Bolton House. Jim stopped and gazed at the yellow squares, something big and powerful rising within him. Then, yielding to a sudden impulse, he approached and looked in. In a great armchair before the blazing hearth8 sat, or rather crouched9, Andrew Bolton. He was wearing a smoking-jacket of crimson10 velvet11 and a pipe hung from his nerveless fingers. Only the man's eyes appeared alive; they were fixed12 upon Lydia at the piano. She was playing some light tuneful melody, with a superabundance of trills and runs. Jim did not know Lydia played; and the knowledge of this trivial accomplishment13 seemed to put her still further beyond his reach. He did not know, either, that she had acquired her somewhat indifferent skill after long years of dull practice, and for the single purpose of diverting the man, who sat watching her with bright, furtive14 eyes.... Presently she arose from the piano and crossed the room to his side. She bent15 over him and kissed him on his bald forehead, her white hands clinging to his shoulders. Jim saw the man shake off those hands with a rough gesture; saw the grieved look on her face; saw the man follow her slight figure with his eyes, as she stooped under pretext16 of mending the fire. But he could not hear the words which passed between them.
“You pretend to love me,” Bolton was saying. “Why don't you do what I want you to?”
“If you'd like to go away from Brookville, father, I will go with you. You need me!”
“That's where you're dead wrong, my girl: I don't need you. What I do need is freedom! You stifle17 me with your fussy18 attentions. Give me some money; I'll go away and not bother you again.”
Whereat Lydia had cried out—a little hurt cry, which reached the ears of the watcher outside.
“Don't leave me, father! I have no one but you in all the world—no one.”
“And you've never even told me how much money you have,” the man went on in a whining19 voice. “There's daughterly affection for you! By rights it all ought to be mine. I've suffered enough, God knows, to deserve a little comfort now.”
“All that I have is yours, father. I want nothing for myself.”
“Then hand it over—the control of it, I mean. I'll make you a handsome allowance; and I'll give you this place, too. I don't want to rot here.... Marry that good-looking parson and settle down, if you like. I don't want to settle down: been settled in one cursed place long enough, by gad20! I should think you could see that.”
“But you wanted to come home to Brookville, father. Don't you remember you said—”
“That was when I was back there in that hell-hole, and didn't know what I wanted. How could I? I only wanted to get out. That's what I want now—to get out and away! If you weren't so damned selfish, you'd let me go. I hate a selfish woman!”
Then it was that Jim Dodge, pressing closer to the long window, heard her say quite distinctly:
“Very well, father; we will go. Only I must go with you.... You are not strong enough to go alone. We will go anywhere you like.”
Andrew Bolton got nimbly out of his chair and stood glowering21 at her across its back. Then he burst into a prolonged fit of laughter mixed with coughing.
“Oh, so you'll go with father, will you?” he spluttered. “You insist—eh?”
And, still coughing and laughing mirthlessly, he went out of the room.
Left to herself, the girl sat down quietly enough before the fire. Her serene22 face told no story of inward sorrow to the watchful23 eyes of the man who loved her. Over long she had concealed24 her feelings, even from herself. She seemed lost in revery, at once sad and profound. Had she foreseen this dire25 disappointment of all her hopes, he wondered.
He stole away at last, half ashamed of spying upon her lonely vigil, yet withal curiously26 heartened. Wesley Elliot was right: Lydia Orr needed a friend. He resolved that he would be that friend.
In the room overhead the light had leapt to full brilliancy. An uncertain hand pulled the shade down crookedly27. As the young man turned for a last look at the house he perceived a shadow hurriedly passing and repassing the lighted window. Then all at once the shadow, curiously huddled28, stooped and was gone. There was something sinister29 in the sudden disappearance30 of that active shadow. Jim Dodge watched the vacant window for a long minute; then with a muttered exclamation31 walked on toward the village.
点击收听单词发音
1 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
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2 dodge | |
v.闪开,躲开,避开;n.妙计,诡计 | |
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3 aspire | |
vi.(to,after)渴望,追求,有志于 | |
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4 sullen | |
adj.愠怒的,闷闷不乐的,(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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5 Flared | |
adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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6 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
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7 sickle | |
n.镰刀 | |
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8 hearth | |
n.壁炉炉床,壁炉地面 | |
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9 crouched | |
v.屈膝,蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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11 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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12 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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13 accomplishment | |
n.完成,成就,(pl.)造诣,技能 | |
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14 furtive | |
adj.鬼鬼崇崇的,偷偷摸摸的 | |
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15 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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16 pretext | |
n.借口,托词 | |
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17 stifle | |
vt.使窒息;闷死;扼杀;抑止,阻止 | |
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18 fussy | |
adj.为琐事担忧的,过分装饰的,爱挑剔的 | |
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19 whining | |
n. 抱怨,牢骚 v. 哭诉,发牢骚 | |
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20 gad | |
n.闲逛;v.闲逛 | |
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21 glowering | |
v.怒视( glower的现在分词 ) | |
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22 serene | |
adj. 安详的,宁静的,平静的 | |
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23 watchful | |
adj.注意的,警惕的 | |
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24 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
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25 dire | |
adj.可怕的,悲惨的,阴惨的,极端的 | |
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26 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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27 crookedly | |
adv. 弯曲地,不诚实地 | |
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28 huddled | |
挤在一起(huddle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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29 sinister | |
adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
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30 disappearance | |
n.消失,消散,失踪 | |
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31 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
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