Mr. Bingle poked10 the fire and looked at his watch. Then he crossed to the window, drew the curtains and shade aside and tried to peer through the frosty panes11 into the street, seven stories below. A holly12 wreath hung suspended in the window, completely obscured from view on one side by hoar frost, on the other by a lemon-coloured window shade that had to be handled with patience out of respect for a lapsed13 spring at the top. He scraped a peep-hole in the frosty surface, and, after drying his fingers on his smoking jacket, looked downward with eyes a-squint.
"Do sit down, Tom," said his wife from her chair by the fireplace. "A watched pot never boils. You can't see them from the window, in any event."
"I can see the car when it stops at the corner, my dear," said Mr. Bingle, enlarging the peep-hole with a vigour15 that appeared to be aggravated16 by advice. "Melissa said seven o'clock and it is four minutes after now."
"You forget that Melissa didn't start until after she had cleared away the dinner things. She—"
"I know, I know," he interrupted, still peering. "But that was an hour ago, Mary. I think a car is stopping at the corner now. No! It didn't stop, so there must have been some one waiting to get on instead of off."
"Do come and sit down. You are as fidgety as a child."
"Dear me," said Mr. Bingle, turning away from the window with a shiver, "how I pity the poor unfortunates who haven't a warm fire to sit beside tonight. It is going to be the coldest night in twenty years, according to the—there! Did you hear that?" He stepped to the window once more. The double ring of a street-car bell had reached his ears, and he knew that a car had stopped at the corner below. "According to the weather report this afternoon," he concluded, re-crossing the room to sit down beside the fire, very erect17 and expectant, a smile on his pinched, eager face. He was watching the hall door.
It was Christmas Eve. There were signs of the season in every corner of the plain but cosy18 little sitting-room19. Mistletoe hung from the chandelier; gay bunting and strands20 of gold and silver tinsel draped the bookcase and the writing desk; holly and myrtle covered the wall brackets, and red tissue paper shaded all of the electric light globes; big candles and little candles flickered21 on the mantelpiece, and some were red and some were white and yet others were green and blue with the paint that Mr. Bingle had applied22 with earnest though artless disregard for subsequent odours; packages done up in white and tied with red ribbon, neatly23 double-bowed, formed a significant centrepiece for the ornate mahogany library table—and one who did not know the Bingles would have looked about in quest of small fry with popping, covetous24 eyes and sleekly25 brushed hair. The alluring26 scent27 of gaudily28 painted toys pervaded29 the Christmas atmosphere, quite offsetting30 the hint of steam from more fortunate depths, and one could sniff32 the odour of freshly buttered pop-corn. All these signs spoke33 of children and the proximity34 of Kris Kringle, and yet there were no little Bingles, nor had there ever been so much as one!
Mr. and Mrs. Bingle were childless. The tragedy of life for them lay not in the loss of a first-born, but in the fact that no babe had ever come to fill their hungry hearts with the food they most desired and craved35. Nor was there any promise of subsequent concessions36 in their behalf. For fifteen years they had longed for the boon37 that was denied them, and to the end of their simple, kindly38 days they probably would go on longing39. Poor as they were, neither would have complained if fate had given them half-a-dozen healthy mouths to feed, as many wriggling41 bodies to clothe, and all the splendid worries that go with colic, croup, measles42, mumps43, broken arms and all the other ailments44, peculiar45, not so much to childhood as they are paramount46 to parenthood.
Lonely, incomplete lives they led, with no bitterness in their souls, loving each other the more as they tried to fill the void with songs of resignation. Away back in the early days Mr. Bingle had said that Christmas was a bleak47 thing without children to lift the pall—or something of the sort.
Out of that well-worn conclusion—oft expressed by rich and poor alike—grew the Bingle Foundation, so to speak. No Christmas Eve was allowed to go by without the presence of alien offspring about their fire-lit hearth48, and no strange little kiddie ever left for his own bed without treasuring in his soul the belief that he had seen Santa Claus at last—had been kissed by him, too—albeit49 the plain-faced, wistful little man with the funny bald-spot was in no sense up to the preconceived opinions of what the roly—poly, white-whiskered, red-cheeked annual visitor from Lapland ought to be in order to make dreams come true.
The Bingles were singularly nephewless, nieceless, cousinless. There was no kindly-disposed relative to whom they could look for the loan of a few children on Christmas Eve, nor would their own sensitiveness permit them to approach neighbours or friends in the building with a well-meant request that might have met with a chilly50 rebuff. One really cannot go about borrowing children from people on the floor below and the floor above, especially on Christmas Eve when children are so much in demand, even in the most fortunate of families. It is quite a different matter at any other time of the year. One can always borrow a whole family of children when the mother happens to feel the call of the matinee or the woman's club, and it is not an uncommon51 thing to secure them for a whole day in mid-December. But on Christmas Eve, never! And so Mr. and Mrs. Bingle, being without the natural comforts of home, were obliged to go out into the world searching for children who had an even greater grudge52 against circumstances. They frequently found their guests of honour in places where dishonour53 had left them, and they gave them a merry Christmas with no questions asked.
The past two Christmas Eves had found them rather providentially supplied with children about whom no questions had ever been asked: the progeny54 of a Mr. and Mrs. Sykes. Mr. Sykes being dead, the care and support of five lusty youngsters fell upon the devoted55 but far from rugged56 shoulders of a mother who worked as a saleswoman in one of the big Sixth Avenue shops, and who toiled57 far into the night before Christmas in order that forgetful people might be able to remember without fail on the morning thereafter. She was only too glad to lend her family to Mr. and Mrs. Bingle. More than that, she was ineffably58 glad, on her own account, that it was Christmas Eve; it signified the close of a diabolical59 season of torture at the hands of a public that believes firmly in "peace on earth" but hasn't the faintest conception of what "good will toward men" means when it comes to shopping at Christmas-time.
Mrs. Sykes' sister Melissa had been maid-of-all-work in the modest establishment of Mr. and Mrs. Bingle for a matter of three years and a half. It was she who suggested the Sykes family as a happy solution to the annual problem, and Mr. Bingle almost hugged her for being so thoroughly60 competent and considerate!
It isn't every servant, said he, who thinks of the comfort of her employers. Most of 'em, said he, insist on going to a chauffeurs61' ball or something of the sort on Christmas Eve, but here was a jewel-like daughter of Martha who actually put the interests of her master and mistress above her own, and complained not! And what made it all the more incomprehensible to him was the fact that Melissa was quite a pretty girl. There was no reason in the world why she shouldn't have gone to the ball and had a good time instead of thinking of them in their hours of trouble. But here she was, actually going out of her way to be kind to her employers: supplying a complete family for Christmas Eve purposes and never uttering a word of complaint!
The more he thought of it, the prettier she became. He mentioned it to his wife and she agreed with him. Melissa was much too pretty, said Mrs. Bingle, entirely without animus62. And she was really quite a stylish63 sort of girl, too, when she dressed up to go out of a Sunday. Much more so, indeed, than Mrs. Bingle herself, who had to scrimp and pinch as all good housewives do if they want to succeed to a new dress once a year.
Melissa had something of an advantage over her mistress in that she received wages and was entitled to an afternoon off every fortnight. Mrs. Bingle did quite as much work about the house, ate practically the same food, slept not half so soundly, had all the worry of making both ends meet, practised a rigid4 and necessary economy, took no afternoons off, and all without pecuniary64 compensation—wherein rests support for the contention65 that Melissa had the better of her mistress when all is said and done. Obviously, therefore, Mrs. Bingle was not as well off as her servant. True, she sat in the parlour while Melissa sat in the kitchen, but to offset31 this distinction, Melissa could sing over her pans and dishes.
Mr. Bingle, good soul, insisted on keeping a servant, despite the strain on his purse, for no other reason than that he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Mrs. Bingle alone all day while he was at the bank. (Lest there should be some apprehension66, it should be explained that he was a bookkeeper at a salary of one hundred dollars a month, arrived at after long and faithful service, and that Melissa had but fifteen dollars a month, food and bed.) Melissa was company for Mrs. Bingle, and her unfailing good humour extended to Mr. Bingle when he came home to dinner, tired as a dog and in need of cheer. She joined in the table-talk with unresented freedom and she never failed to laugh heartily67 over Mr. Bingle's inspired jokes. Altogether, Melissa was well worth her wage. She was sunshine and air to the stifled68 bookkeeper and his wife.
And now, for the third time, she was bringing the five rollicking
Sykeses to the little flat beyond Washington Square, and for the
thousandth time Mr. and Mrs. Bingle wondered how such a treasure as
Melissa had managed to keep out of heaven all these years.
Mr. Bingle opened the front door with a great deal of ceremony the instant the rickety elevator came to a stop at the seventh floor, and gave greeting to the five Sykeses on the dark, narrow landing. He mentioned each by name and very gravely shook their red-mittened paws as they sidled past him with eager, bulging69 eyes that saw only the Christmas trappings in the room beyond.
"Merry Christmas," said the five, not quite in one voice but with well-rehearsed vehemence70, albeit two tiny ones, in rapt contemplation of things beyond, quite neglected their duty until severely71 nudged by Melissa, whereupon they said it in a shrill72 treble at least six times without stopping.
"I am very pleased to see you all," said Mr. Bingle, beaming. "Won't you take off your things and stay awhile?"
It was what he always said to them, and they always said, "Yes, thank you," following out instructions received on the way down town, and then, in some desperation, added, "Mr. Bingle," after a sententious whisper from their aunt.
They were a rosy73, clean-scrubbed lot, these little Sykeses. Their mother may not have fared overly well herself, but she had contrived74 to put flesh and fat on the bones of her progeny, and you would go a long way before you would find a plumper, merrier group of children than those who came to the Bingle flat on Christmas Eve in their very best garments and with their very best appetites. The eldest75 was ten, the youngest four, and it so happened that the beginning and the end of the string were boys, the three in between being Mary, Maud, and Kate.
Mrs. Bingle helped them off with their coats and caps and mufflers, then hugged them and lugged76 them up to the fire, while Melissa removed her skunk77 tippet, her poney coat and a hat that would have created envy in the soul of a less charitable creature than the mistress of the house.
"And now," said Mr. Bingle, confronting the group, "who made you?"
"God, Mr. Bingle," said the five Sykeses, very much after the habit of a dog that is ordered to "speak."
"And who was it that said, 'Suffer little children to come unto me?'"
"Jesus, Mr. Bingle," said the five Sykeses, eyeing the pile on the table.
"And where do you expect to go when you die?" demanded Mr. Bingle, with great severity.
"Heaven!" shouted the perfectly78 healthy Sykeses.
"How is your mother, Mary?" asked Mrs. Bingle, always a rational woman.
Mary bobbed. "She's working, ma'am," said she, and that was all she knew about her mother's state of health.
"Are you cold?" inquired Mr. Bingle, herding79 them a little closer to the grate.
"Yes," said two of the Sykeses.
"Sir," admonished80 Melissa.
"Sir!" said all of the Sykeses.
"Now, draw up the chairs," said Mr. Bingle, clearing his throat. "Mary, you'd better take Kate and Georgie on your lap, and suppose you hold Maud, Melissa. It will be more cosy." This was his way of overcoming the shortage in chairs.
Now, it was Mr. Bingle's custom to read "The Christmas Carol" on Christmas Eve. It was his creed81, almost his religion, this heart-breaking tale by Dickens. Not once, but a thousand times, he had proclaimed that if all men lived up to the teachings of "The Christmas Carol" the world would be sweeter, happier, nobler, and the churches could be put to a better use than at present, considering (as he said) that they now represent assembling places for people who read neither Dickens nor the Scripture82 but sing with considerable intelligence. It was his contention that "The Christmas Carol" teaches a good many things that the Church overlooks in its study of Christ, and that the surest way to make good men out of ALL boys is to get at their hearts while their souls are fresh and simple. Put the New Testament83 and "The Christmas Carol" in every boy's hand, said he, and they will create a religion that has something besides faith for a foundation. One sometimes forgets that Christ was crucified, but no one ever forgets what happened to Old Scrooge, and as Mr. Bingle read his Bible quite assiduously it is only fair to assume that he appreciated the relativeness of "The Christmas Carol" to the greatest Book in all the world.
For twenty years or more, he had not once failed to read "The Carol" on Christmas Eve. He knew the book by heart. Is it any wonder, then, that he was a gentle, sweet-natured man in whom not the faintest symptom of guile84 existed? And, on the other hand, is it any wonder that he remained a bookkeeper in a bank while other men of his acquaintance went into business and became rich and arrogant85? Of course, it is necessary to look at the question from both directions, and for that reason I mention the fact that he remained a bookkeeper while those who scorned "The Christmas Carol" became drivers of men.
Experience—and some sage86 conclusions on the part of his wife—had taught him, after years of unsatisfactory practice, that it was best to read the story BEFORE giving out presents to the immature87 guests. On a great many occasions, the youngsters—in those early days they were waifs—either went sound asleep before he was half way through or became so restless and voracious88 that he couldn't keep his place in the book, what with watching to see that they didn't choke on the candy, break the windows or mirrors with their footballs, or put some one's eye out with a pop-gun.
[Illustration with caption89: The "kiddies" kept their eyes and ears open and sat very still while he read to them of Tiny Tim and his friends]
Of late he had been reading the story first and distributing the "goodies" and toys afterward90. It was a splendid arrangement. The "kiddies" kept their eyes and ears open and sat very still while he read to them of Tiny Tim and his friends. And when Mr. Bingle himself grinned shamefacedly through his tears and choked up so that the words would not come without being resolutely91 forced through a tightened92 throat, the sympathetic audience, including Mrs. Bingle and Melissa—and on one occasion an ancient maiden93 from the floor above—wept copiously94 and with the most flattering clamour.
A small reading-lamp stood on the broad arm of his chair, which faced the expectant group. Mr. Bingle cleared his throat, wiped his spectacles, and then peered over the rims95 to see that all were attending. Five rosy faces glistened96 with the sheen of health and soap lately applied with great force by the proud but relentless97 Melissa.
"Take off your ear-muffs, James," said Mr. Bingle to the eldest Sykes, who immediately turned a fiery98 red and shrank down in his chair bitterly to hate his brothers and sisters for snickering at him. "There! That's much better."
"They're new, Mr. Bingle," explained Melissa. "He hasn't had 'em off since yesterday, he likes 'em so much. Put 'em in your pocket, Jimmy. And now listen to Mr. Bingle. Are you sure they ain't too heavy for you, ma'am? Georgie's getting pretty big—oh, excuse me, sir."
Mr. Bingle took up the well-worn, cherished book and turned to the first page of the text. He cleared his throat again—and again. Hesitation99 at a time like this was unusual; he was clearly, suddenly irresolute100. His gaze lingered for a moment on the white knob of a door at the upper end of the room, and then shifted to his wife's face.
"I wonder, my dear, if Uncle Joe couldn't be persuaded to come in and listen to the reading," he ventured, a wistful gleam in his eyes. "He's been feeling better the last few days. It might cheer him—"
"Cheer your granny," said Mrs. Bingle scornfully. "It's no use. I asked him just before dinner and he said he didn't believe in happiness, or something to that effect."
"He is the limit," said Melissa flatly. "The worst grouch101 I've ever seen, Mr. Bingle, even if he is your own flesh and blood uncle. He's almost as bad as Old Scrooge."
"He is a sick man," explained Mr. Bingle, lowering his voice; "and he hasn't known very much happiness in his lifetime, so I suppose we ought to overlook—er, ahem! Let me see, where was I?" He favoured young Mary Sykes with a genial grin. "Where was I, Mary?"
Mary saw her chance. Without a trace of shame or compunction, she said page seventy-eight, and then the three grown people coughed in great embarrassment102.
"You sha'n't come next Christmas," whispered Melissa very fiercely into
Mary's ear, so ominously103, in fact, that Mary's lip began to tremble.
"Page one," she amended104, in a very small voice. James moved uneasily in his chair, and Mary avoided his gaze.
"I believe I'll step in and ask Uncle Joe if he won't change his mind," said Mr. Bingle. "I—I don't believe he has ever read the Christmas Carol. And he is so lonely, so—er—so at odds105 with the world that—"
"Don't bother him, Tom," said his wife. "Get on with the reading. The children are impatient." She completed the sentence in a yawn.
Mr. Bingle began. He read very slowly and very impressively at first, but gradually warmed up to the two-hour task. In a very few minutes he was going along rapidly, almost monotonously106, with scant107 regard for effect save at the end of sentences, the ultimate word being pronounced with distinct emphasis. Page after page was turned; the droning sound of his voice went on and on, with its clock-like inflections at the end of sentences; the revived crackle of coals lent spirit to an otherwise dreary108 solo, and always it was Melissa who poked the grate and at the same time rubbed her leg to renew the circulation that had been checked by the limp weight of Katie Sykes; the deep sighs of Mrs. Bingle and the loud yawns of the older children relieved the monotony of sound from time to time; and the cold wind whistled shrilly109 round the corners of the building, causing the youngsters to wonder how Santa was enduring the frost during his tedious wait at the top of the chimney pot. Mrs. Bingle shifted the occupants of her lap more and more often as the tale ran on, and with little attempt to do so noiselessly; Mary's feet went to sleep, and James fidgeted so violently that twice Mr. Bingle had to look at him. But eventually he came to the acutely tearful place in the story, and then he was at his best. Indeed, he quite thrilled his hearers, who became all attention and blissfully lachrymose110. Mrs. Bingle sobbed111, Melissa rubbed her eyes violently, Mr. Bingle choked up and could scarcely read for the tightening112 in his throat, and the children watched him through solemn, dripping eyes and hung on every word that told of the regeneration of Scrooge and the sad happiness of Tiny Tim. And finally Mr. Bingle, as hoarse113 as a crow and faint with emotion, closed the book and lowered it gently to his knee.
"There!" he said. "There's a lesson for you. Don't you feel better for it, young ladies and gentlemen?"
"I always cry," said Mary Sykes, with a glance of defiance114 at her eldest brother, who made a fine show of glowering115.
"Everybody cries over Tiny Tim," said Melissa. "As frequent as I've heard Mr. Bingle read that story I can't help crying, knowing all the time it's only a novel. It seems to me I cry a little worse every time it's read. Don't you think I do, ma'am? Didn't you notice that I cried a little more this time than I did last year?"
"It touches the heart-strings," said Mr. Bingle, blowing his nose so fiercely that Georgie whimpered again, coming out of a doze40. "I'll bet my head, dear, that Uncle Joe would sniffle as much as any of us. I wish—er—I do wish we'd asked him to come in. It would do him a world of good to shed a few tears."
"He hasn't a tear in the whole hulk of him," said Mrs. Bingle, sorrowfully.
"Poor old man," said Melissa, relenting a bit.
"I bet I know what he's doing," said James brightly.
"Doing? What is he doing, James?" demanded Mr. Bingle, surprised by the youngster's declaration.
"You can't fool me. I bet he's out there dressing116 up to play Santa
Claus."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Mr. Bingle, blinking. The thought of crabbed117 Uncle Joe taking on the habiliments of the genial saint was too much for his imagination. It left him without the power to set James straight in the matter, and Uncle Joe was immediately accepted as Santy by the expectant Sykeses, all of whom revealed a tremendous interest in the avuncular118 absentee. They even appeared to be properly apprehensive119, and crowded a little closer to the knees of the grown-ups, all the while eyeing the door at the upper end of the room.
Melissa's involuntary snort was not enlightening to the children, but it served as a spur to Mr. Bingle, who abruptly120 gave over being sentimental121 and set about the pleasant task of distributing the packages on the table. Hilarity122 took the place of a necessary reserve, and before one could say Jack14 Robinson the little sitting-room was as boisterous123 a place as you'd find in a month's journey and no one would have suspected that Mr. and Mrs. Bingle were eating their hearts out because the noisy crew belonged to the heaven-blest Mrs. Sykes and not to them.
Ten o'clock came. Mr. and Mrs. Bingle sat side by side in front of the fireplace, her hand in his. The floor was littered with white tissue paper, red ribbons, peanut hulls124 and other by-products of festivity; the rugs were scuffled up and hopelessly awry125; chairs were out of their accustomed places—two or three of them no longer stood upon their legs as upright chairs should do—and the hearth was strewn with coals from an overturned scuttle126. Candle grease solidified127 on the mantelpiece and dripped unseen upon the mahogany bookcase—all unnoticed by the dreamy, desolate128 Bingles. They were alone with the annual wreck129. Melissa and the five Sykeses were out in the bitter night, on their frolicksome way to the distant home of the woman who had so many children she didn't know what to do for them, not with them. They had gone away with their hands and pockets full, and their stomachs, too, and they had all been kissed and hugged and invited to come again without fail a year from that very night.
Mr. Bingle sighed. Neither had spoken for many minutes after the elevator door slammed behind the excited, shrill-voiced children. Mr. Bingle always sighed exactly at this moment in his reflections, and Mrs. Bingle always squeezed his hand fiercely and turned a pair of darkly regretful eyes upon him.
"I am sorry, dear heart," she murmured, and then he kissed her hand and said that it was God's will.
"It doesn't seem right, when we want them, need them so much," she said, huskily.
And then he repeated the thing he always said on Christmas Eve: "One of these days I am going to adopt a—er—a couple, Mary, sure as I'm sitting here. We just can't grow old without having some of them about us. Some day we'll find the right sort of—"
The bedroom door opened with a squeak130, slowly and with considerable caution. The gaunt, bearded face of a tall, stooping old man appeared in the aperture131; sharp, piercing eyes under thick grey eyebrows132 searched the room in a swift, almost unfriendly glance.
"The infernal brats133 gone, Tom?" demanded Uncle Joe harshly.
Mr. and Mrs. Bingle stiffened134 in their chairs. The tall old man came down to the fireplace, disgustedly kicking a stray, crumpled135 sheet of tissue paper out of his path.
"Oh, they are perfect dears, Uncle Joe," protested Mrs. Bingle, trying her best not to bristle136.
"I wish you had come in for a look at 'em—" began Mr. Bingle, but the old man cut him off with a snort of anger.
"Cussed little nuisances," he said, holding his thin hands to the blaze.
"I don't see how you can say such things about children you don't know and can't—" began Mrs. Bingle.
He glared at her. "You can't tell me anything about children, Mary. I'm the father of three and I know what I'm talking about. Children are the damnedest curse on earth. You ought to thank God you haven't got any."
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
genial
|
|
| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
coax
|
|
| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
frigid
|
|
| adj.寒冷的，凛冽的；冷淡的；拘禁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
rigid
|
|
| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
obdurate
|
|
| adj.固执的，顽固的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
generosity
|
|
| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
remorse
|
|
| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
poked
|
|
| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
panes
|
|
| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
holly
|
|
| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
lapsed
|
|
| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
jack
|
|
| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
vigour
|
|
| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
aggravated
|
|
| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
cosy
|
|
| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
sitting-room
|
|
| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
strands
|
|
| n.（线、绳、金属线、毛发等的）股( strand的名词复数 )；缕；海洋、湖或河的)岸；（观点、计划、故事等的）部份v.使滞留，使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
flickered
|
|
| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
covetous
|
|
| adj.贪婪的，贪心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
sleekly
|
|
| 光滑地，光泽地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
alluring
|
|
| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
gaudily
|
|
| adv.俗丽地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
pervaded
|
|
| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
offsetting
|
|
| n.偏置法v.抵消( offset的现在分词 )；补偿；（为了比较的目的而）把…并列（或并置）；为（管道等）装支管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
offset
|
|
| n.分支，补偿；v.抵消，补偿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
sniff
|
|
| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
proximity
|
|
| n.接近，邻近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
craved
|
|
| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
concessions
|
|
| n.（尤指由政府或雇主给予的）特许权( concession的名词复数 )；承认；减价；（在某地的）特许经营权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
boon
|
|
| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
doze
|
|
| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
wriggling
|
|
| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
measles
|
|
| n.麻疹，风疹，包虫病，痧子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
mumps
|
|
| n.腮腺炎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
ailments
|
|
| 疾病（尤指慢性病），不适( ailment的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
paramount
|
|
| a.最重要的，最高权力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
bleak
|
|
| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
hearth
|
|
| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
albeit
|
|
| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
chilly
|
|
| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
uncommon
|
|
| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
grudge
|
|
| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
dishonour
|
|
| n./vt.拒付（支票、汇票、票据等）；vt.凌辱，使丢脸；n.不名誉，耻辱，不光彩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
progeny
|
|
| n.后代，子孙；结果 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
rugged
|
|
| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
toiled
|
|
| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
ineffably
|
|
| adv.难以言喻地，因神圣而不容称呼地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
diabolical
|
|
| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
chauffeurs
|
|
| n.受雇于人的汽车司机( chauffeur的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
animus
|
|
| n.恶意；意图 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
stylish
|
|
| adj.流行的，时髦的；漂亮的，气派的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
pecuniary
|
|
| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
contention
|
|
| n.争论，争辩，论战；论点，主张 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
stifled
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
bulging
|
|
| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
vehemence
|
|
| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
severely
|
|
| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
contrived
|
|
| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
eldest
|
|
| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
lugged
|
|
| vt.用力拖拉（lug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
skunk
|
|
| n.臭鼬，黄鼠狼；v.使惨败，使得零分；烂醉如泥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
herding
|
|
| 中畜群 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
admonished
|
|
| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
creed
|
|
| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
scripture
|
|
| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
testament
|
|
| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
guile
|
|
| n.诈术 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
arrogant
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
sage
|
|
| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
immature
|
|
| adj.未成熟的，发育未全的，未充分发展的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
voracious
|
|
| adj.狼吞虎咽的，贪婪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
caption
|
|
| n.说明，字幕，标题；v.加上标题，加上说明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
afterward
|
|
| adv.后来；以后 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
resolutely
|
|
| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
tightened
|
|
| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
maiden
|
|
| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
copiously
|
|
| adv.丰富地，充裕地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
rims
|
|
| n.（圆形物体的）边( rim的名词复数 )；缘；轮辋；轮圈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
glistened
|
|
| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
relentless
|
|
| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
hesitation
|
|
| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
irresolute
|
|
| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
grouch
|
|
| n.牢骚，不满；v.抱怨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
embarrassment
|
|
| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
ominously
|
|
| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
Amended
|
|
| adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
odds
|
|
| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
monotonously
|
|
| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
scant
|
|
| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
shrilly
|
|
| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
lachrymose
|
|
| adj.好流泪的，引人落泪的；adv.眼泪地，哭泣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
sobbed
|
|
| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
tightening
|
|
| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
hoarse
|
|
| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
defiance
|
|
| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
glowering
|
|
| v.怒视( glower的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
dressing
|
|
| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
crabbed
|
|
| adj.脾气坏的；易怒的；（指字迹）难辨认的；（字迹等）难辨认的v.捕蟹( crab的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
avuncular
|
|
| adj.叔伯般的，慈祥的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
apprehensive
|
|
| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
sentimental
|
|
| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
hilarity
|
|
| n.欢乐；热闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
boisterous
|
|
| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
hulls
|
|
| 船体( hull的名词复数 )； 船身； 外壳； 豆荚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
awry
|
|
| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
scuttle
|
|
| v.急赶，疾走，逃避；n.天窗；舷窗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
solidified
|
|
| （使）成为固体，（使）变硬，（使）变得坚固( solidify的过去式和过去分词 )； 使团结一致； 充实，巩固； 具体化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
wreck
|
|
| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
squeak
|
|
| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
aperture
|
|
| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
eyebrows
|
|
| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
brats
|
|
| n.调皮捣蛋的孩子( brat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
stiffened
|
|
| 加强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
crumpled
|
|
| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
bristle
|
|
| v.（毛发）直立，气势汹汹，发怒；n.硬毛发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |