Not inaptly might the cloisters4 of Helstonleigh be compared to this, that day, when the college boys were let out of school at one o’clock. A strange rumour6 had been passed about amongst the desks—not reaching that at which sat the seniors—a rumour which shook the equanimity7 of the school to its centre; and, when one o’clock struck, the boys, instead of clattering8 out with all the noise of which their legs and lungs were capable, stole down the stairs quietly, and formed into groups of whisperers in the cloisters. It was the calm that precedes a storm.
So unusual a state of affairs was noticed by the senior boy.
“What’s up now?” he asked them, in the phraseology in vogue9 there and elsewhere. “Are you all going to a funeral? I hope it’s your sins that you are about to bury!”
A heavy silence answered him. Gaunt could not make it out. The other three seniors, attracted by the scene, came back, and waited with Gaunt. By that time the calm was being ruffled10 by low murmurings, and certain distinct words came from more than one of the groups.
“What do you say?” burst forth Tom Channing, darting11 forward as the words caught his ear. “You, Jackson! speak up; what is it?”
Not Jackson’s voice especially, but several other voices arose then; a word from one, a word from another, half sentences, disjointed hints, forming together an unmistakable whole. “The theft of old Galloway’s bank-note has been traced to Arthur Channing.”
“Who says it? Who dares to say it?” flashed Tom, his face flaming, and his hand clenched12.
“The police say it. Butterby says it.”
“I don’t care for the police; I don’t care for Butterby,” cried Tom, stamping his foot in his terrible indignation. “I ask, who dares to say it here?”
“I do, then! Come, Mr. Channing, though you are a senior, and can put me up to Pye for punishment upon any false plea that you choose,” answered a tall fellow, Pierce senior, who was chiefly remarkable13 for getting into fights, and was just now unusually friendly with Mark Galloway, at whose desk he sat.
Quick as lightning, Tom Channing turned and faced him. “Speak out what you have to say,” cried he; “no hints.”
“Whew!” retorted Pierce senior, “do you think I am afraid? I say that Arthur Channing stole the note lost by old Galloway.”
Tom, in uncontrollable temper, raised his hand and struck him. One half-minute’s struggle, nothing more, and Pierce senior was sprawling14 on the ground, while Tom Channing’s cheek and nose were bleeding. Gaunt had stepped in between them.
“I stop this,” he said. “Pierce, get up! Don’t lie there like a floundering donkey. Channing, what possessed15 you to forget yourself?”
“You would have done the same, Gaunt, had the insult been offered to you. Let the fellow retract16 his words, or prove them.”
“Very good. That is how you ought to have met it at first,” said Gaunt. “Now, Mr. Pierce, can you make good your assertion?”
Pierce had floundered up, and was rubbing one of his long legs, which had doubled under him in the fall, while his brother, Pierce junior, was collecting an armful of scattered17 books, and whispering prognostications of parental18 vengeance19 in prospective20; for, so surely as Pierce senior fell into a fight at school, to the damage of face or clothes, so surely was it followed up by punishment at home.
“If you want proof, go to Butterby at the police station, and get it from him,” sullenly21 replied Pierce, who owned a sulky temper as well as a pugnacious22 one.
“Look here,” interrupted Mark Galloway, springing to the front: “Pierce was a fool to bring it out in that way, but I’ll speak up now it has come to this. I went into my uncle’s, this morning, at nine o’clock, and there was he, shut in with Butterby. Butterby was saying that there was no doubt the theft had been committed by Arthur Channing. Mind, Channing,” Mark added, turning to Tom, “I am not seconding the accusation23 on my own score; but, that Butterby said it I’ll declare.”
“Pshaw! is that all?” cried Tom Channing, lifting his head with a haughty24 gesture, and not condescending25 to notice the blood which trickled26 from his cheek. “You must have misunderstood him, boy.”
“No, I did not,” replied Mark Galloway. “I heard him as plainly as I hear you now.”
“It is hardly likely that Butterby would say that before you, Galloway,” observed Gaunt.
“Ah, but he didn’t see I was there, or my uncle either,” said Mark. “When he is reading his newspaper of a morning, he can’t bear a noise, and I always go into the room as quiet as mischief27. He turned me out again pretty quick, I can tell you; but not till I had heard Butterby say that.”
“You must have misunderstood him,” returned Gaunt, carelessly taking up Tom Channing’s notion; “and you had no right to blurt28 out such a thing to the school. Arthur Channing is better known and trusted than you, Mr. Mark.”
“I didn’t accuse Arthur Channing to the school. I only repeated to my desk what Butterby said.”
“It is that ‘only repeating’ which does three parts of the mischief in this world,” said Gaunt, giving the boys a little touch of morality gratis29, to their intense edification. “As to you, Pierce senior, you’ll get more than you bargain for, some of these days, if you poke30 your ill-conditioned nose so often into other people’s business.”
Tom Channing had marched away towards his home, head erect31, his step ringing firmly and proudly on the cloister5 flags. Charley ran by his side. But Charley’s face was white, and Tom caught sight of it.
“What are you looking like that for?”
“Tom! you don’t think it’s true, do you?”
Tom turned his scorn upon the boy. “You little idiot! True! A Channing turn thief! You may, perhaps—it’s best known to yourself—but never Arthur.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean, can it be true that the police suspect him?”
“Oh! that’s what your face becomes milky32 for? You ought to have been born a girl, Miss Charley. If the police do suspect him, what of that?—they’ll only have the tables turned upon themselves, Butterby might come out and say he suspects me of murder! Should I care? No; I’d prove my innocence33, and make him eat his words.”
They were drawing near home. Charley looked up at his brother. “You must wipe your face, Tom.”
Tom took out his handkerchief, and gave his face a rub. In his indignation, his carelessness, he would have done nothing of the sort, had he not been reminded by the boy. “Is it off?”
“Yes, it’s off. I am not sure but it will break out again. You must take care.”
“Oh, bother! let it. I should like to have polished off that Pierce senior as he deserves. A little coin of the same sort would do Galloway no harm. Were I senior of the school, and Arthur not my brother, Mr. Mark should hear a little home truth about sneaks34. I’ll tell it him in private, as it is; but I can’t put him up for punishment, or act in it as Gaunt could.”
“Arthur is our brother, therefore we feel it more pointedly35 than Gaunt,” sensibly remarked Charley.
“I’d advise you not to spell forth that sentimental36 rubbish, though you are a young lady,” retorted Tom. “A senior boy, if he does his duty, should make every boy’s cause his own, and ‘feel’ for him.”
“Tom,” said the younger and more thoughtful of the two, “don’t let us say anything of this at home.”
“Why not?” asked Tom, hotly. He would have run in open-mouthed.
“It would pain mamma to hear it.”
“Boy! do you suppose she would fear Arthur?”
“You seem to misconstrue all I say, Tom. Of course she would not fear him—you did not fear him; but it stung you, I know, as was proved by your knocking down Pierce.”
“Well, I won’t speak of it before her,” conciliated Tom, somewhat won over, “or before my father, either; but catch me keeping it from the rest.”
As Charles had partially37 foretold38, they had barely entered, when Tom’s face again became ornamented39 with crimson40. Annabel shrieked41 out, startling Mr. Channing on his sofa. Mrs. Channing, as it happened, was not present; Constance was: Lady Augusta Yorke and her daughters were spending part of the day in the country, therefore Constance had come home at twelve.
“Look at Tom’s face!” cried the child. “What has he been doing?”
“Hold your tongue, little stupid,” returned Tom, hastily bringing his handkerchief into use again; which, being a white one, made the worse exhibition of the two, with its bright red stains. “It’s nothing but a scratch.”
But Annabel’s eyes were sharp, and she had taken in full view of the hurt. “Tom, you have been fighting! I am sure of it!”
“Come to me, Tom,” said Mr. Channing. “Have you been fighting?” he demanded, as Tom crossed the room in obedience42, and stood close to him. “Take your handkerchief away, that I may see your face.”
“It could not be called a fight, papa,” said Tom, holding his cheek so that the light from the window fell full upon the hurt. “One of the boys offended me; I hit him, and he gave me this; then I knocked him down, and there it ended. It’s only a scratch.”
“Thomas, was this Christian43 conduct?”
“I don’t know, papa. It was schoolboy’s.”
Mr. Channing could not forbear a smile. “I know it was a schoolboy’s conduct; that is bad enough: and it is my son’s, that is worse.”
“If I had given him what he deserved, he would have had ten times as much; and perhaps I should, for my temper was up, only Gaunt put in his interference. When I am senior, my rule will be different from Gaunt’s.”
“Ah, Tom! your ‘temper up!’ It is that temper of yours which brings you harm. What was the quarrel about?”
“I would rather not tell you, papa. Not for my own sake,” he added, turning his honest eyes fearlessly on his father; “but I could not tell it without betraying something about somebody, which it may be as well to keep in.”
“After that lucid44 explanation, you had better go and get some warm water for your face,” said Mr. Channing. “I will speak with you later.”
Constance followed him from the room, volunteering to procure45 the warm water. They were standing46 in Tom’s chamber47 afterwards, Tom bathing his face, and Constance looking on, when Arthur, who had then come in from Mr. Galloway’s, passed by to his own room.
“Hallo!” he called out; “what’s the matter, Tom?”
“Such a row!” answered Tom. “And I wish I could have pitched into Pierce senior as I’d have liked. What do you think, Arthur? The school were taking up the notion that you—you!—had stolen old Galloway’s bank-note. Pierce senior set it afloat; that is, he and Mark Galloway together. Mark said a word, and Pierce said two, and so it went on. I should have paid Pierce out, but for Gaunt.”
A silence. It was filled up by the sound of Tom splashing the water on his face, and by that only. Arthur spoke48 presently, his tone so calm a one as almost to be unnatural.
“How did the notion arise?”
“Mark Galloway said he heard Butterby talking with his uncle; that Butterby said the theft could only have been committed by Arthur Channing. Mark Galloway’s ears must have played him false; but it was a regular sneak’s trick to come and repeat it to the school. I say, Constance, is my face clean now?”
Constance woke up from a reverie to look at his face. “Quite clean,” she answered.
He dried it, dried his hands, gave a glance at his shirt-front in the glass, which had, however, escaped damage, brushed his hair, and went downstairs. Arthur closed the door and turned to Constance. Her eyes were seeking his, and her lips stood apart. The terrible fear which had fallen upon both the previous day had not yet been spoken out between them. It must be spoken now.
“Constance, there is tribulation49 before us,” he whispered. “We must school ourselves to bear it, however difficult the task may prove. Whatever betide the rest of us, suspicion must be averted50 from him.”
“What tribulation do you mean?” she murmured.
“The affair has been placed in the hands of the police; and I believe—I believe,” Arthur spoke with agitation51, “that they will publicly investigate it. Constance, they suspect me. The college school is right, and Tom is wrong.”
Constance leaned against a chest of drawers to steady herself, and pressed her hand upon her shrinking face. “How have you learnt it?”
“I have gathered it from different trifles; one fact and another. Jenkins said Butterby was with him this morning, asking questions about me. Better that I should be suspected than Hamish. God help me to bear it!”
“But it is so unjust that you should suffer for him.”
“Were it traced home to him, it might be the whole family’s ruin, for my father would inevitably52 lose his post. He might lose it were only suspicion to stray to Hamish. There is no alternative. I must screen him. Can you be firm, Constance, when you see me accused?”
Constance leaned her head upon her hand, wondering whether she could be firm in the cause. But that she knew where to go for strength, she might have doubted it; for the love of right, the principles of justice were strong within her. “Oh, what could possess him?” she uttered, wringing53 her hands; “what could possess him? Arthur, is there no loophole, not the faintest loophole for hope of his innocence?”
“None that I see. No one whatever had access to the letter but Hamish and I. He must have yielded to the temptation in a moment of delirium54, knowing the money would clear him from some of his pressing debts—as it has done.”
“How could he brave the risk of detection?”
“I don’t know. My head aches, pondering over it. I suppose he concluded that suspicion would fall upon the post-office. It would have done so, but for that seal placed on the letter afterwards. What an unfortunate thing it was, that Roland Yorke mentioned there was money inside the letter in the hearing of Hamish!”
“Did he mention it?” exclaimed Constance.
He said there was a twenty-pound note in the letter, going to the cousin Galloway, and Hamish remarked that he wished it was going into his pocket instead. “I wish” Arthur uttered, in a sort of frenzy55, “I had locked the letter up there and then.”
Constance clasped her hands in pain. “I fear he may have been going wrong for some time,” she breathed. “It has come to my knowledge, through Judith, that he sits up for hours night after night, doing something to the books. Arthur,” she shivered, glancing fearfully round, “I hope those accounts are right?”
The doubt thus given utterance56 to, blanched57 even the cheeks of Arthur. “Sits up at the books!” he exclaimed.
“He sits up, that is certain; and at the books, as I conclude. He takes them into his room at night. It may only be that he has not time, or does not make time, to go over them in the day. It may be so.”
“I trust it is; I pray it may be. Mind you, Constance, our duty is plain: we must screen him; screen him at any sacrifice to ourselves, for the father and mother’s sake.”
“Sacrifice to you, you ought to say. What were our other light troubles, compared with this? Arthur, will they publicly accuse you?”
“It may come to that; I have been steeling myself all the morning to meet it.”
He looked into her face as he said it. Constance could see how his brow and heart were aching. At that moment they were called to dinner, and Arthur turned to leave the room. Constance caught his hand, the tears raining from her eyes.
“Arthur,” she whispered, “in the very darkest trouble, God can comfort us. Be assured He will comfort you.”
Hamish did not make his appearance at dinner, and they sat down without him. This was not so very unusual as to cause surprise; he was occasionally detained at the office.
The meal was about half over, when Annabel, in her disregard of the bounds of discipline, suddenly started from her seat and flew to the window.
“Charley, there are two policemen coming here! Whatever can they want?”
“Perhaps to take you,” said Mrs. Channing, jestingly. “A short sojourn58 at the tread-mill might be of great service to you, Annabel.”
The announcement had struck upon the ear and memory of Tom. “Policemen!” he exclaimed, standing up in his place, and stretching his neck to obtain a view of them. “Why—it never can be that—old Butterby—Arthur, what ails59 you?”
A sensitive, refined nature, whether implanted in man or woman, is almost sure to betray its emotions on the countenance60. Such a nature was Arthur Channing’s. Now that the dread61 had really come, every drop of blood forsook62 his cheeks and lips, leaving his face altogether of a deathly whiteness. He was utterly63 unable to control or help this, and it was this pallor which had given rise to Tom’s concluding exclamation64.
Mr. Channing looked at Arthur, Mrs. Channing looked at him; they all looked at him, except Constance, and she bent65 her head lower over her plate, to hide, as she best might, her own white face and its shrinking terror. “Are you ill, Arthur?” inquired his father.
A low brief reply came; one struggling for calmness. “No, sir.”
Impetuous Tom, forgetting caution, forgetting all except the moment actually present, gave utterance to more than was prudent66. “Arthur, you are never fearing what those wretched schoolboys said? The police are not come to arrest you. Butterby wouldn’t be such a fool!”
But the police were in the hall, and Judith had come to the dining-room door. “Master Arthur, you are wanted, please.”
“What is all this?” exclaimed Mr. Channing in astonishment67, gazing from Tom to Arthur, from Arthur to the vision of the blue official dress, a glimpse of which he could catch beyond Judith. Tom took up the answer.
“It’s nothing, papa. It’s a trick they are playing for fun, I’ll lay. They can’t really suspect Arthur of stealing the bank-note, you know. They’ll never dare to take him up, as they take a felon68.”
Charley stole round to Arthur with a wailing69 cry, and threw his arms round him—as if their weak protection could retain him in its shelter. Arthur gently unwound them, and bent down till his lips touched the yearning70 face held up to him in its anguish71.
“Charley, boy, I am innocent,” he breathed in the boy’s ear. “You won’t doubt that, I know. Don’t keep me. They have come for me, and I must go with them.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
ominous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
cloisters
|
|
| n.（学院、修道院、教堂等建筑的）走廊( cloister的名词复数 )；回廊；修道院的生活；隐居v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
cloister
|
|
| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
rumour
|
|
| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
equanimity
|
|
| n.沉着，镇定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
clattering
|
|
| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
Vogue
|
|
| n.时髦，时尚；adj.流行的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
ruffled
|
|
| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
darting
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
clenched
|
|
| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
sprawling
|
|
| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
retract
|
|
| vt.缩回，撤回收回，取消 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
parental
|
|
| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
vengeance
|
|
| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
prospective
|
|
| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
sullenly
|
|
| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
pugnacious
|
|
| adj.好斗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
accusation
|
|
| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
condescending
|
|
| adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
trickled
|
|
| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
blurt
|
|
| vt.突然说出，脱口说出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
gratis
|
|
| adj.免费的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
poke
|
|
| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
milky
|
|
| adj.牛奶的，多奶的；乳白色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
sneaks
|
|
| abbr.sneakers (tennis shoes) 胶底运动鞋（网球鞋）v.潜行( sneak的第三人称单数 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
pointedly
|
|
| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
sentimental
|
|
| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
partially
|
|
| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
foretold
|
|
| v.预言，预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
ornamented
|
|
| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
crimson
|
|
| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
shrieked
|
|
| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
obedience
|
|
| n.服从，顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
lucid
|
|
| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
procure
|
|
| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
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： |
|
|
|
|
49
tribulation
|
|
| n.苦难，灾难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
averted
|
|
| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
agitation
|
|
| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
inevitably
|
|
| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
wringing
|
|
| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
delirium
|
|
| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
frenzy
|
|
| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
blanched
|
|
| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
sojourn
|
|
| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
ails
|
|
| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
forsook
|
|
| forsake的过去式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
exclamation
|
|
| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
prudent
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
felon
|
|
| n.重罪犯；adj.残忍的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
wailing
|
|
| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
yearning
|
|
| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
anguish
|
|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |