Some one was climbing the garden wall, and a minute later a head rose above the scullery roof. It was Miriam, crying, with wet clothes clinging to her, and Helen called out softly.
"Oh, is that you?" she answered, and laughed through a tangled8 breath. "I'm drenched9."
"Wait! I'll go into Ph[oe]be and help you through."
"There's a chair here. I left it. I'm afraid it's ruined!"
Helen entered the other room as Miriam dropped from the window-ledge to the floor.
"Don't make a noise. We mustn't wake her. Oh, oh, you look—you look like rags!"
Miriam sat limply; she shook with cold and sobs10 and laughter. Water dripped from every part of her, and when Helen helped her up, all the streams became one river.
Helen let go of the cold hands and sank to the bed. "There must be gallons of it! And you—!"
"I'm frozen. Mop it up. Towels—anything. I'll fling my clothes out of the window. They are quite used to the scullery roof."
"Speak quietly. Whisper. She may hear you!"
"That would be—the devil, wouldn't it? Good thing Rupert isn't here! Put something at the bottom of the door. Lock it. My fingers are numb11. Oh, dear, oh, dear, I can't undo12 my things."
"Let me. You ought to have hot water, and there's no fire. I'll rub you down. And your hair! Wring13 it out, child. What were you doing on the moor?"
"Just amusing myself."
"With George Halkett?"
"We-ell, I was with him in the spirit, oh, yes, I was; but in the flesh, only for a very little while. What made you think I was with him?"
"Something I heard. Are you warmer now?"
"Much warmer. Give me my nightgown, please. Oh, it's comfortable, and out there I was so cold, so cold. Oh," she cried out, "I should love to set his farm on fire!"
"Hush14!"
"But I would! If I'd had matches, and if it hadn't been raining, and if I'd thought about it, I would have done it then."
"But what did he do to you?" Helen's eyes were sombre. "He surely didn't touch you?"
Miriam's arrested laughter marked their differences. She remembered George Halkett's hand on hers and the wilder, more distant passion of his arms clasping her among the larches15.
"It wasn't that," she said. "He asked me to marry him—and it wasn't that. I met him to go riding, and I think I must have teased him. Yes, I did, because he hit my horse, and I couldn't hold him, and I fell off at last. I lay in the heather for a long time. It was wet, Helen, and I was all alone. I cried at first. I would have killed him if he had come near. I would, somehow, but he never came. He didn't care, and I might have been killed, just because I teased him. Then I cried again. Would you mind coming into bed with me to keep me warm? I'm glad I'm here. I lost my way. I thought I should be out there all night. It was dark, and the wind howled like demons16, and the rain, the rain—! Closer, Helen."
"Did he frighten you?"
"Of course he didn't. I was angry. Oh"—the small teeth gritted17 on each other—"angry! But I'll pay him out. I swear I will."
"Don't swear it. Don't do it. I wish Rupert were here. I'm glad Zebedee gave me Jim."
"Pooh! Do you think George will break into the house? Jim would fly at him. I'd like that. He's got to be paid out."
Helen moved in the bed. "What's the good of doing that?"
"The good! He made me bite the earth. I joggled and joggled, and at last I went over with a bump, and when I bumped I vowed19 I'd hurt him."
"You needn't keep that kind of vow18."
"Then what was the good of making it? We always keep our promises."
"Promise not to see him any more."
"Don't worry. I've finished with him—very nearly. Will you stay with me all night? There's not much room, but I want you to keep hold of me. I'm warm now, and so beautifully sleepy."
Her breathing became even, but once it halted to let her say, "He's a beast, but I can't help rather liking20 him."
She slept soon afterwards, but Helen lay awake with her arm growing stiff under Miriam's body, and her mind wondering if that pain were symbolic21 of what wild folly22 might inflict23.
It was noticeable that Miriam did not venture on the moor in the days that followed, but every day Helen went there with Jim, who needed exercise and was only restrained from chasing sheep by timely employment of his energy, and every day Halkett, watching the house, saw these two sally forth24 together. They went at an easy pace, the woman with her skirt outblown, her breast fronting the wind, her head thrown back, her hands behind her, the dog marching by her side, and in their clearness of cut, their pale colour, for which the moor was dado and the sky frieze25, he found some memory of sculptures he had seen and hardly heeded26, ancient things with the eternity27 of youth on them, the captured splendour of moving limb and passionate28 brain. Then he was aware of fresh wind and fruitful earth, but as she passed out of sight, he was imprisoned29 again by stifling30 furies. He had begun to love Miriam with a sincerity31 that wished to win and not to force her; he had controlled the wild heritage of his fathers and tried to forget the sweetness of her body in the larch-wood; he was determined32 not to take what she would not give him gladly; and now, by her own act, she had changed his striving love into desire—desire to hurt, to feel her struggling in his arms, hating his kisses, paying a bitter price for her misuse33 of him. He had a vicious pleasure in waiting for the hour when he should feel her body straining away from his, and each night, as he sat drinking, he lived through that ecstasy34; each day, as he went about his work, he kept an eye on the comings and goings of the Canipers, waiting for his chance. Miriam did not appear, and that sign of fear inflamed35 him; but on Sunday morning she walked on the moor with Rupert, holding him by the arm and making a parade of happiness, and in the afternoon, Daniel was added to the train.
Monday came, and no small, black-haired figure darted36 from the house: only Helen and the majestic37 dog walked together like some memory of a younger world.
His mind held two pictures as he sat alone at night, and, corresponding to them, two natures had command of him. He saw Helen like dawn and Miriam like night, and as one irritated him with her calm, the other roused him with her fire, and he came to watch for Helen that he might sneer38 inwardly at her, with almost as much eagerness as he watched for Miriam that he might mutter foul39 language, like loathed40 caresses41.
Drink and desire and craving42 for peace were all at work in him. The dreams he had been building were broken by a callous43 hand, and he sat among the ruins. He could laugh, now, at his fair hopes, but they had had their part in him, and he could never go back to the days when he rode and drank and loved promiscuously44, with a light heart. She had robbed, too, when she cast down his house, but there was no end to her offence, for when, out of coarser things, this timid love had begun to creep, it had been thrown back at him with a gibe45.
He was in a state when the strongest suggestion would have its way with him. He wanted to make Miriam suffer; he wanted to be dealt with kindly46, and he had a pitiful and unconscious willingness to take another's mould. So, when he saw Helen on the moor, the sneering47 born of her distance from him changed slowly to a desire for nearness, and he remembered with what friendliness48 they had sat together in the heather one autumn night, and how peace had seemed to lie upon them both. A woman like that might keep a man straight, he thought, and when she stopped to speak to him one morning, her smile was balm to his hurts.
She looked at him in her frank way. "You don't look well, George."
"Oh—I'm all right," he said, hitting his gaiters with his stick.
"It's a lovely day," she said, "and you have some lambs already. I hope the snow won't come and kill them."
"Hope not. We're bound to lose some of them, though."
Why, he asked himself angrily, was she not afraid of him who was planning injury to her sister? She made him feel as though he could never injure any one.
"You haven't noticed my dog," she said.
"Yes—" he began. He had been noticing him for days, marching beside her against the sky. "He's a fine beast."
"Isn't he?" Her finger-tips were on Jim's head.
"You want a dog now there's no man in your house."
She laughed a little as she said, "And he feels his responsibility, don't you, Jim?"
"Come here, lad," Halkett called to him. "Come on. That's right!"
"He seems to like you."
"I never knew the dog that didn't; but don't make him too soft, or he'll be no good to you."
"Well," she said gaily49, "you are not likely to break into our house!"
His flush alarmed her, for it told her that she had happened on the neighbourhood of his thoughts, and her mind was in a flurry to assert her innocence50 and engender51 his, but no words came to her, and her hand joined his in fondling the dog's head.
"Well, I must be going on," George said, and after an uncertain instant he walked away, impoverished52 and enriched.
Helen sat down heavily, as though one of her own heart-beats had pushed her there, and putting her arm round Jim's neck, she leaned her head on him.
"Jim," she said, "don't you wish Zebedee would come back? If I hadn't promised—" She looked about her. George had disappeared, and near by grey sheep were eating with a concentration that disdained53 her and the dog. It was a peaceful scene, and a few early lambs dotted it with white. "It's silly to feel like this," she said. "Let's go and find Miriam."
She was discovered in the garden, digging.
"But why?" Helen asked.
"I must have exercise." Her hair was loosened, her teeth worked on her under-lip as her foot worked on the spade. "You don't know how I miss my riding!"
"I've just seen George."
"Have you?"
"I spoke55 to him."
"How brave! How did he look?"
"Horrid56. His eyes were bloodshot."
"Ah! He has been drinking. That's despair. Perhaps it's time I tried to cheer him up."
"Don't make him angry."
"I'm not going to. I'm not vindictive57. I'm rather nice. I've recovered from my rage, and now I wouldn't set his farm on fire for worlds. Why, if I saw it blazing, I should run to help! But I'd like to tease him just a little bit."
"I wish you wouldn't. I think it's rather mean, he looks so miserable. And I'm sure it isn't safe. Please, Miriam."
"I can take care of myself, my dear."
"I'm not so sure."
"Oh, yes, I can. I'm going to make it up with him. I must, or I shall never be able to walk about the moor again."
"I wish you didn't live here," Helen said.
"Well, so do I. But it's not for long." She was working vigorously, and, with her peculiar58 faculty59 for fitting her surroundings, she looked as though she had been begotten60 of sun and rain and soil. Helen took delight in her bright colour, strong hands and ready foot.
"I wonder," Helen said thoughtfully, "if Uncle Alfred would take you now."
"Do you want to save me from George's clutches?"
"Yes, I do."
Miriam threw back her head and laughed. "You funny little thing! You're rather sweet. George hasn't a clutch strong enough to hold me. You can be sure of that."
She was herself so certain that she waylaid61 him on the moor next day, but to her amazement62 he did not answer her smile of greeting and passed on without a word.
"George!" she called after him.
"Well?" He looked beyond her at the place where green moor met blue sky: he felt he had done with her, and Helen's trust had taken all the sweetness from revenge.
"Aren't you going to say good-morning? I came on purpose to see you."
"You needn't trouble," he said and, stealing a look at her, he weakened.
"But I need." He was wavering, she knew, and her mouth and eyes promised laughter, her body seemed to sway towards him.
"I want—I want to forgive you, George."
"Well, I'm—"
"Yes, you are, no doubt, but I don't want to be, so I forgive my trespassers, and I've come to make friends."
"You've said that before."
"I've always meant it. Must I hold out my arm any longer?"
"No." She was too tempting63 for his strength. He took her by the shoulders, looked greedily at her, saw the shrinking he had longed for and pressed his mouth on hers. She gave a cry that made a bird start from the heather, but he held her to him and felt her struggling with a force that could not last, and in a minute she dropped against him as helplessly as if she had been broken.
He turned her over on his arm. "You little devil!" he said, and kissed her lips again.
Her face was white and still: she did not move and he could not guess that behind the brows gathered as if she were in pain, her mind ransacked64 her home for a weapon that might kill him, and saw the carving-knife worn to a slip of steel that would glide65 into a man's body without a sound. She meant to use it: she was kept quiet by that determination, by the intensity66 of her horror for caresses that, unlike those first ones in the larch-wood, marked her as a thing to be used and thrown away.
She knew his thoughts of her, but she had her own amid a delirium67 of hate, and when he released her, she was shaking from the effort of her control.
"Now I've done with you," he said, and she heard him laugh as he went away.
She longed to scream until the sky cracked with the noise, and she had no knowledge of her journey home. She found herself sitting at the dinner-table with Helen, and heard her ask, "Don't you feel well?"
"No. I'm—rather giddy."
She watched the knife as Helen carved, and the beauty of its slimness gave her joy; but suddenly the blade slipped, and she saw blood on Helen's hand and, rushing from the table to the garden, she stood there panting.
"It's nothing," Helen shouted through the window. "Just a scratch."
"Oh, blood! It's awful!" She leaned on the gate and sobbed68 feebly, expecting to be sick. She could not make anybody bleed: it was terrible to see red blood.
Trembling and holding to the banisters, she went upstairs and lay down on her bed, and presently, through her subsiding69 sobs, there came a trickle70 of laughter born of the elfish humour which would not be suppressed. She could not kill George, but she must pay him out, and she was laughing at herself because she had discovered his real offence. It was not his kisses, not even his disdain54 of what he took, though that enraged71 her: it was his words as he cast her off and left her. She sat up on the bed, clenching72 her small hands. How dared he? How dared he? She could not ignore those words and she would let him know that he had been her plaything all the time.
"All the time, George, my dear," she muttered, nodding her black head. "I'll just write you a little letter, telling you!"
Kneeling before the table by her window, she wrote her foolish message and slipped it inside her dress: then, with a satisfaction which brought peace, she lay down again and slept.
She waked to find Helen at her bedside, a cup of tea in her hand.
"Oh—I've been to sleep?"
"Yes. It's four o'clock. Are you better?"
"Yes."
"Lily is here. John's gone to town. It's market-day."
"Market-day!" She laughed. "George will get drunk. Perhaps he'll fall off his horse and be killed. But I'd rather he was killed tomorrow. Perhaps a wild bull will gore73 him—right horn, left horn, right horn—Oh, my head aches!"
"Don't waggle it about."
"I was just showing you what the bull would do to George."
"Leave the poor man alone."
But that was what Miriam could not do, and she waited eagerly for the dark.
The new green of the larches was absorbed into the blackness of night when she went through them silently. She had no fear of meeting George, but she must wait an opportunity of stealing across the courtyard and throwing the letter through the open door, so she paused cautiously at the edge of the wood and saw the parlour lights turning the cobbles of the yard to lumps of gold. There was no sign of Mrs. Biggs, but about the place there was a vague stir made up of the small movements and breathings of the horses in the stable, the hens shut up for the night, the cows in their distant byres. Branches of trees fretted74 against each other and the stream sang, out of sight.
The parlour light burned steadily75, no figure came into view, and, lifting her feet from her slippers76, Miriam went silently towards the door. She had thrown in the letter and was turning back, when she heard nailed boots on the stones, a voice singing, a little thickly, in an undertone. She caught her breath and ran, but as she fumbled77 for her slippers in the dark, she knew she was discovered. He had uttered a loud, "Ha!" of triumph, his feet were after her, and she squealed78 like a hunted rabbit when he pounced79 on her.
It was very dark within the wood. His face was no more than a blur80, and her unseen beauty was powerless to help her. She was desperate, and she laughed.
"George, you'll spoil my little joke. I've left a letter for you. It's a shame to spoil it, Georgie, Porgie."
His grasp was hurting her. "Where is the letter?" he asked in a curious, restrained voice.
"In the doorway81. Let me go, George. I'll see you tomorrow. George—please!"
"No," he said thoughtfully, carefully, "I don't think I shall let you go. Come with me—come with me, pretty one, and we'll read your love-letter together."
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
gusts
|
|
| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
moor
|
|
| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
wailing
|
|
| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
shriek
|
|
| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
sob
|
|
| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
tangled
|
|
| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
drenched
|
|
| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
sobs
|
|
| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
numb
|
|
| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
undo
|
|
| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
wring
|
|
| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
hush
|
|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
larches
|
|
| n.落叶松（木材）( larch的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
demons
|
|
| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
gritted
|
|
| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的过去式和过去分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
vow
|
|
| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
vowed
|
|
| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
liking
|
|
| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
symbolic
|
|
| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
inflict
|
|
| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
frieze
|
|
| n.(墙上的)横饰带，雕带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
heeded
|
|
| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
eternity
|
|
| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
imprisoned
|
|
| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
stifling
|
|
| a.令人窒息的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
sincerity
|
|
| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
misuse
|
|
| n.误用，滥用；vt.误用，滥用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
ecstasy
|
|
| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
inflamed
|
|
| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
darted
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
majestic
|
|
| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
sneer
|
|
| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
loathed
|
|
| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
caresses
|
|
| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
craving
|
|
| n.渴望,热望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
callous
|
|
| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
promiscuously
|
|
| adv.杂乱地，混杂地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
gibe
|
|
| n.讥笑；嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
sneering
|
|
| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
friendliness
|
|
| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
gaily
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
engender
|
|
| v.产生，引起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
impoverished
|
|
| adj.穷困的，无力的，用尽了的v.使（某人）贫穷( impoverish的过去式和过去分词 )；使（某物）贫瘠或恶化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
disdained
|
|
| 鄙视( disdain的过去式和过去分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
disdain
|
|
| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
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： |
|
|
|
|
56
horrid
|
|
| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
vindictive
|
|
| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
faculty
|
|
| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
begotten
|
|
| v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 )；产生，引起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
waylaid
|
|
| v.拦截，拦路( waylay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
tempting
|
|
| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
ransacked
|
|
| v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
glide
|
|
| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
intensity
|
|
| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
delirium
|
|
| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
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： |
|
|
|
|
69
subsiding
|
|
| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的现在分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
trickle
|
|
| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
enraged
|
|
| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
clenching
|
|
| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
gore
|
|
| n.凝血，血污；v.（动物）用角撞伤，用牙刺破；缝以补裆；顶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
fretted
|
|
| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
slippers
|
|
| n. 拖鞋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
fumbled
|
|
| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
squealed
|
|
| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
pounced
|
|
| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
blur
|
|
| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |