Atmospheric12 conditions exert an undue13 influence over minds that have wandered from the radiance of health into the twilight14 of morbidity15. The stanch16, big-chested toiler17 takes the storm into his bosom10 and laughs like a Norseman buffeting18 ice-brilliant seas. To those of feeble moral vitality19 the drearier20 passages of life are packed with intangible temptations and imagined possibilities for sin. The man whose heart is warm and clean cares nothing for rough weather. It is the bleached21 ?sthetic who turns pessimist22 or sensualist to cheat his own shivering and hungry soul. Give the world a Tolsto?, rugged23 viking struggling giant-like towards the truth, rather than some De Musset or Baudelaire hugging an impotent sexuality in the lap of a prostituted art. The world needs prophets, not pessimists24. Pessimism25 is the result of moral dyspepsia. It is a nobler thing to lift some simple lamp of truth to light the hearts of men than to build a brilliant philosophic26 system for the entangling27 of the intellect.
Zeus Gildersedge had suffered for a week from an exaggerated melancholia. Evil weather always appeared to irritate his opiated brain, inspiring a more sinister28 barbarism, a more restless temper. No man can quench29 utterly30 his primitive31 intuitions. When the wind howled Zeus Gildersedge shivered, drew his ragged32 philosophy closer about his soul, and warmed his marrow33 with a more generous share of wine. The wind woke the coward in him, revealed that native superstition34 that is lodged35 deep in every heart. Moreover, certain words that he had heard in the silence of his own garden had haunted his brain like the emissaries of an outraged36 God. He had been drinking heavily, and taking more opium37 than even his Mithridatic body could tolerate. His hands trembled more; his moods were violent and spasmodic; an unusual restlessness interfered38 with his mechanical régime.
It was the evening of a gray and blustering39 day. The rain had ceased, and streaks40 of silvery light were ribbing the clouds. A calm had fallen; the wind breathed in infrequent stanzas41, showering rattling42 moisture from the leaves. A rich perfume refreshed the atmosphere, the scent43 of foliage drenched44 yet shimmering45 in the awakening46 sun.
Joan Gildersedge came over the meadows from the sea. She loved rough weather and the cold kisses of the rain upon her face. Her rough frieze47 skirt hung drenched about her knees, and her hair was dark and wet with the storm. A rich color had risen in her cheeks, scourged48 by the wet west wind.
Joan looked long at the breaking sky before setting the iron gate grating on its rusty49 hinges. The gravel50 drive was green with grass and weeds. As she threaded its tangled51 shadows, the cypresses52, stirred by the wind, shook long showers of glittering dew. At one point a large seringa overweighted by the storm bowed over to touch the trailing branches of an untrimmed laurel. Joan had to bend beneath this rustic53 yoke54. A spray of green leaves brushed her lips, leaves pure and fresh as the lips they had touched.
As she drew from the shadows of the shrubs55 sounds sinister in their suggestiveness smote56 upon her ears. Two voices were in altercation—the one shrill57, strenuous58, feminine, the other the untutored growl59 of a man scorning compulsion. Joan Gildersedge stood still and listened. The window of the dining-room stood open; she could hear plainly enough what passed within.
“I tell you I sha’n’t,” said the woman’s voice, very rapidly. “Do yer think I’m going to sell myself for fifteen pounds a year? You go and cheat your grandmother. You’re drunk, Zeus Gildersedge, and what do I care for an old sot of sixty. Am I to drudge60 and scrape and sell myself here for nothing? I’ve had enough of it, I tell you. You give me that key, old light of love, and I’ll help myself for once. Come along now, or I’ll make no sport for you.”
The man’s voice retorted, thick and tangled, the expression of a clouded and cunning intellect.
“You think I’m drunk, eh?”
“Half an’ half.”
“You’re a pretty beauty. Give you the key of my strong-box, eh? Nice game, that. Pretty old gudgeon you think you’re talking to. I’m drunk, am I? Not fuddled enough yet to be fooled by such as you.”
The woman’s voice rose shriller.
“You’re a man, you are. Take all and give nothing. Taunt61 me, would you?”
“Who’s to blame? Speak up.”
“That’s manly62, that is. Put it all off your own shoulders; shove all the blame on mine. You’re the saint, are you, and I the sinner? You owe me a quarter’s wages. I’ll have that and more—fifty gold sovereigns, not a farthing less. ’Ain’t I earned it by sacrificing my immortal63 soul to an old scarecrow like you?”
“You have, you innocent.”
“Give me the key, then.”
An outbreak of blasphemy greeted the appeal. Zeus Gildersedge chuckled65 and swore in alternation. He had lost every shred66 of that quality that might have been christened by courtesy self-control.
“That’s right,” jeered67 the feminine voice, “cheat a woman and then laugh over it. More drink! Whiskey—neat, too! Half a tumbler! Nice stuff for a respectable man of sixty! You’ll be seeing devils in a jiffy.”
The clatter69 of glass sounded in the room. Joan Gildersedge slipped round towards the porch under the shadows of the trees. She was pale, but very bright and keen about the eyes. Her lips were compressed into a thin, straight line. The look of childish repose70 had left her face as she stood in the porch and listened.
Rebecca’s voice rose again, less shrewish, more persuasive71.
“I reckon it’s no good ranting,” she said; “there’s only one thing as will make you generous, and I suppose you know what that is!”
“I reckon I do,” came the thick and lethargic72 response. “Pour me out some more whiskey, Becky.”
“You’ll have your own way, I suppose. Half a glass, not a drop more. Why don’t you slip into one of your chuck-me-under-the-chin moods and give me that key?”
Zeus Gildersedge’s voice seemed weaker; his voice had less edge than before.
“You leave that key alone.”
“What go you’ve got for a man of sixty!”
“You know that, eh?”
“Don’t I. Look at me; what am I here for?”
They both laughed unrestrainedly. Joan, standing73 in the porch, with rain dripping monotonously74 from the leaves, seemed to stiffen75 into stone. Her hands gripped the trellis of the porch. She seemed to steady herself as one who meets the onrush of some storm-driven billow or as a virgin76 martyr77 facing the flames. In these few seconds the dream-cloak had been shrivelled about her soul. She trod the furnace; fire licked her limbs. The mordant78 realism of life burned at last before her reason.
“I’m damned sleepy,” said the man’s voice, ending in a prolonged yawn.
“That there whiskey’s heavy stuff.”
“Where’s Joan, eh?”
“Out still.”
“That girl’s a bit mad; you— It’s all right, Becky, keep your temper straight; I’ll pay.”
There was an indefinite muttering in the room that Joan could not unravel79. She heard a sleepy chuckle64, a series of yawns. Rebecca’s voice reduced to an insinuating80 cadence81.
“It’s time I cooked supper. Go to sleep, uncle, dear; there’s your handkerchief to keep the flies off. Ta-ta! I’ll vanish.”
From Zeus Gildersedge there came no response. Silence followed, broken by the drip of the rain and the sound of heavy breathing. A quarter of an hour passed with preternatural slowness. Joan had been listening for the noise of Rebecca’s footsteps in the hall, but had heard nothing. The heavy oak door stood ajar. She pushed it open silently, slipped in, and peered into the darkening room.
Zeus Gildersedge sat in his big chair, his head fallen back upon the cushion as in deep sleep. Bending over him stood the woman Rebecca, with her back turned towards the door. The woman had unbuttoned Zeus Gildersedge’s flannel82 shirt at the neck, and her hand was groping in his bosom. Even as Joan watched her Rebecca drew up a small key fastened about the man’s neck by a long noose83 of twine84. She cut the string with a knife, turned suddenly, saw Joan standing in the doorway85.
The servant’s brown eyes darkened and the sullen86 look on her sensual face grew the more expressive87. Her fingers closed and hid the key. She made one step, stood motionless, her figure thrown into a hesitating stoop. Before her stood Joan, tall, silent, and implacable, a pale and purposeful Athene. There was a grim look in the girl’s gray eyes.
“Give me that key.”
Rebecca’s fingers closed the tighter. Her broad figure seemed to stiffen with an obstinate88 insolence89; her large, florid face was repulsively90 confident.
“Give me that key.”
“Sha’n’t.”
“You will.”
“Master promised it me.”
“Don’t lie.”
“A liar91, am I?”
It was done with a quietness that was peculiarly impressive. Joan Gildersedge had advanced with her eyes fixed92 on the woman’s face. A powerful purpose seemed concentrated in her every movement. She was half a head taller than Rebecca; her strong, white hand fastened on the woman’s wrist. She drew Rebecca’s hand towards her so steadily93 that an observer would hardly have guessed that the woman’s muscles were rigidly94 resistant95.
“Open your hand.”
There was a moment’s obstinacy96. The white hand tightened97; the firm mouth grew a shade paler; the gray eyes outstared the brown. It was a battle of willpower, and the conclusion was inevitable98. Rebecca’s fingers unclosed upon the key.
“Take it, then.”
The two women still eyed each other—the one stern and keen as a white frost, the other florid and furtive99, subduedly vindictive100.
“You’ll tell him?”
Joan nodded.
“Nice old gentleman, your father, when—”
The revulsion was instantaneous. Sudden color surged into the girl’s face; her eyes flamed. Like a figure of divine vengeance101 she stood as at the gate of Eden, hounding shame into the dark unknown.
“Woman—”
“Ah!”
“You have fouled102 a home. You are unclean. You go to-night.”
A sudden grim sympathy leaped lightning-like from face to face. Rebecca cringed, gave back a step. The gray eyes scathed103 her with a scorn that stripped her soul naked in the sun. She gave a hoarse104 cry, cowered105 back, a woman scourged by a woman’s scorn.
“Miss Joan—”
“Don’t speak to me.”
Rebecca’s hands clutched her bosom. She still retreated, strove to speak, but choked in her throat. Sudden elemental shame had stricken her, shame shining from the divine cleanliness that drove her into the dark.
“I’ll go. Don’t jeer68; don’t look at me like that. Give me my money.”
“Your hire.”
The words stung like flame. The woman slunk away like a Judas, crept into the hall silently, stooping and holding her throat. In the shadows she turned with the snarl106 of a smitten107 brute108.
“I’ll pay you for this.”
“Go.”
The woman disappeared. Joan heard footsteps on the stairs and the slamming of an attic109 door. She bent110 over her father’s chair. He was breathing heavily, stertorously111, as under the influence of a narcotic112 or a deadening dose of alcohol. She touched his shoulder, shook him, but he never heeded113 her. She reknotted the twine about his neck, dropped the key into his bosom, and refastened his shirt.
Joan stood at her full height for a moment with her hands over her eyes, thinking. She had grown calm again after her passion, but the same solemn resolve abode114 in her mind. Childhood had elapsed in an hour, a brief sunset swallowed up in gloom. Henceforth the unknown stretched forward streaked115 with the imagined amber116 of the dawn. A woman, she had the woman’s part to play amid the stress of evil days.
Zeus Gildersedge was a spare man; his weight was inconsiderable. His daughter put her arms about him, lifted him from the chair, and laid him upon the tattered117 sofa. His head rolled heavy upon her shoulder; his reeking118 breath beat upon her cheek. She shuddered119 and recoiled120 from him with an invincible121 disrelish as he lay snoring and gulping122 in his sleep. This sodden123, greed-steeped piece of clay was her father.
Joan changed her drenched dress in her bedroom, looked into Rebecca’s attic and found it empty. She descended124 to the kitchen. The door stood wide and the place was empty; the fire had dwindled125 in the grate. A square of paper scrawled126 over with ill-formed characters lay on the table.
“Cook your own hash,” it ran. “I shall send my cousin Jim for my box to-morrow. I’ve gone, and pretty glad to go, you bet.”
Joan crumpled127 the document and flicked128 it into the fire. She closed and locked the kitchen door and made her supper off home-baked cake and milk. It had grown dusk apace. She lit a candle, passed through the hall, locking the door, and entered the dining-room again. Her father still snored on the sofa. She set the candle on the table and seated herself in the window-seat with the casement129 open.
A cleft130 in the agate131 foliage showed her the wizard west. The clouds had broken, and great bars of light gleamed in the darkening sky. A purple stairway seemed to ascend132 to a mysterious shrine133 shrouded134 in golden vapor135.
Rossetti should have painted her as she sat at the casement with the failing light bathing her face. Her neck shone like alabaster136. An infinite wistfulness mingled137 with the awakened138 sense of womanhood that burned in her eyes. Virgo Victrix! A fair soul set like a white rose in the dusky tresses of the night!
Great loneliness possessed her in the empty house. Her thoughts were shimmering in the sunshine by the green banks of a river. A willow139 overarched her head. Through the void of solitude140 thought echoed thought and soul answered soul. She imagined kisses on her lips. She imagined the touch of a man’s hand.
Night came and the west faded. The solitary141 candle burned on, streaking142 the gloom with its meagre flame. For hours the girl watched on wide-eyed into the night, beside the inanimate carcass of her drunken sire. Ere dawn came she had fallen asleep in the window-seat with her head pillowed on her arm. And a smile played upon the lips of the woman who dreamed a dream.
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收听单词发音
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1
morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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5
besought
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| v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的过去式和过去分词 )；(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
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6
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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8
blasphemy
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| n.亵渎，渎神 | |
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9
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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10
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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bosoms
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| 胸部( bosom的名词复数 )； 胸怀； 女衣胸部（或胸襟）； 和爱护自己的人在一起的情形 | |
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12
atmospheric
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| adj.大气的，空气的；大气层的；大气所引起的 | |
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13
undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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14
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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15
morbidity
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| n.病态；不健全；发病；发病率 | |
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16
stanch
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| v.止住（血等）；adj.坚固的；坚定的 | |
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17
toiler
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| 辛劳者，勤劳者 | |
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18
buffeting
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| 振动 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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20
drearier
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| 使人闷闷不乐或沮丧的( dreary的比较级 )； 阴沉的； 令人厌烦的； 单调的 | |
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21
bleached
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| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
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pessimist
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| n.悲观者；悲观主义者；厌世 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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pessimists
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| n.悲观主义者( pessimist的名词复数 ) | |
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25
pessimism
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| n.悲观者，悲观主义者，厌世者 | |
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26
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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27
entangling
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| v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的现在分词 ) | |
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28
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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29
quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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30
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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31
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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35
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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36
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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opium
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| n.鸦片；adj.鸦片的 | |
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38
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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39
blustering
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| adj.狂风大作的，狂暴的v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的现在分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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40
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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41
stanzas
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| 节，段( stanza的名词复数 ) | |
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42
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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43
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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44
drenched
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| 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） | |
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45
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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46
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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47
frieze
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| n.(墙上的)横饰带，雕带 | |
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48
scourged
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| 鞭打( scourge的过去式和过去分词 )； 惩罚，压迫 | |
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49
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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50
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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51
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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52
cypresses
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| n.柏属植物，柏树( cypress的名词复数 ) | |
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53
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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54
yoke
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| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
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55
shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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56
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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57
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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58
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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59
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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60
drudge
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| n.劳碌的人；v.做苦工，操劳 | |
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61
taunt
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| n.辱骂，嘲弄；v.嘲弄 | |
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62
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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63
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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64
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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65
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
shred
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| v.撕成碎片，变成碎片；n.碎布条，细片，些少 | |
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67
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
jeer
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| vi.嘲弄，揶揄；vt.奚落；n.嘲笑，讥评 | |
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69
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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70
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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71
persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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72
lethargic
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| adj.昏睡的，懒洋洋的 | |
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73
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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74
monotonously
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| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
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75
stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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76
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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77
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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78
mordant
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| adj.讽刺的；尖酸的 | |
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79
unravel
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| v.弄清楚（秘密）；拆开，解开，松开 | |
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80
insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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81
cadence
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| n.（说话声调的）抑扬顿挫 | |
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82
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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83
noose
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| n.绳套，绞索（刑）；v.用套索捉；使落入圈套；处以绞刑 | |
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84
twine
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| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
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85
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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86
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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87
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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88
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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89
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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90
repulsively
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| adv.冷淡地 | |
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91
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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92
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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93
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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94
rigidly
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| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
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95
resistant
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| adj.(to)抵抗的，有抵抗力的 | |
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96
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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97
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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98
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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99
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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100
vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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101
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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102
fouled
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| v.使污秽( foul的过去式和过去分词 )；弄脏；击球出界；（通常用废物）弄脏 | |
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103
scathed
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| v.伤害，损害（尤指使之枯萎）( scathe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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105
cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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106
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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107
smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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108
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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109
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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110
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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111
stertorously
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112
narcotic
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| n.麻醉药，镇静剂；adj.麻醉的，催眠的 | |
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113
heeded
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| 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 ) | |
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114
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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115
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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116
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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117
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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118
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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119
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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120
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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121
invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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122
gulping
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的现在分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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123
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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124
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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125
dwindled
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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126
scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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127
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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128
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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129
casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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130
cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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131
agate
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| n.玛瑙 | |
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132
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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133
shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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134
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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135
vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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136
alabaster
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| adj.雪白的；n.雪花石膏；条纹大理石 | |
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137
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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138
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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139
willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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140
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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141
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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142
streaking
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| n.裸奔（指在公共场所裸体飞跑）v.快速移动( streak的现在分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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