But even as this quaint10 figure vanished there sprang up a new and glittering one to take his place. He stood framed in the great plate-glass window of the very building which had brought about the defeat of his predecessor11. A miracle of close shaving his face was, and a marvel12 of immaculateness his linen13. Dapper he was, and dressy, albeit14 inclined to glittering effects and a certain plethory at the back of the neck. Back of him stood shining shapes that reflected his glory in enamel15, and brass16, and glass. His language was floral, but choice; his talk was of gearings and bearings and cylinders17 and magnetos; his method differed from that of him who went before as the method of a skilled a?ronaut differs from that of the man who goes over Niagara in a barrel. And as he multiplied and spread over the land we coined a new figure of speech. "Smooth!" we chuckled18. "As smooth as an automobile19 salesman."
But even as we listened, fascinated by his fluent verbiage20 there grew within us a certain resentment21. Familiarity with his glittering wares bred a contempt of them, so that he fell to speaking of them as necessities instead of luxuries. He juggled22 figures, and thought nothing of four of them in a row. We looked at our five-thousand-dollar salary, so strangely shrunken and thin now, and even as we looked we saw that the method of the unctuous23, anxious stranger had become antiquated24 in its turn.
Then from his ashes emerged a new being. Neither urger nor spellbinder he. The twentieth century was stamped across his brow, and on his lips was ever the word "Service." Silent, courteous25, watchful26, alert, he listened, while you talked. His method, in turn, made that of the silk-lined salesman sound like the hoarse27 hoots28 of the ballyhoo man at a county fair. Blithely29 he accepted five hundred thousand dollars and gave in return—a promise. And when we would search our soul for a synonym30 to express all that was low-voiced, and suave31, and judicious32, and patient, and sure, we began to say, "As alert as an advertising33 expert."
Jock McChesney, looking as fresh and clear-eyed as only twenty-one and a cold shower can make one look, stood in the doorway34 of his mother's bedroom. His toilette had halted abruptly36 at the bathrobe stage. One of those bulky garments swathed his slim figure, while over his left arm hung a gray tweed Norfolk coat. From his right hand dangled37 a pair of trousers, in pattern a modish38 black-and-white.
Jock regarded the gray garment on his arm with moody39 eyes.
"Well, I'd like to know what's the matter with it!" he demanded, a trifle irritably40.
Emma McChesney, in the act of surveying her back hair in the mirror, paused, hand glass poised41 half way, to regard her son.
"All right," she answered cheerfully. "I'll tell you. It's too young."
"Young!" He held it at arm's length and stared at it. "What d'you mean—young?"
Emma McChesney came forward, wrapping the folds of her kimono about her. She took the disputed garment in one hand and held it aloft. "I know that you look like a man on a magazine cover in it. But Norfolk suits spell tennis, and seashore, and elegant leisure. And you're going out this morning, Son, to interview business men. You're going to try to impress the advertising world with the fact that it needs your expert services. You walk into a business office in a Norfolk suit, and everybody from the office boy to the president of the company will ask you what your score is."
She tossed it back over his arm.
"I'll wear the black and white," said Jock resignedly, and turned toward his own room. At his doorway he paused and raised his voice slightly: "For that matter, they're looking for young men. Everybody's young. Why, the biggest men in the advertising game are just kids." He disappeared within his room, still talking. "Look at McQuirk, advertising manager of the Combs Car Company. He's so young he has to disguise himself in bone-trimmed eye-glasses with a black ribbon to get away with it. Look at Hopper, of the Berg, Shriner Company. Pulls down ninety thousand a year, and if he's thirty-five I'll—"
"Well, you asked my advice," interrupted his mother's voice with that muffled42 effect which is caused by a skirt being slipped over the head, "and I gave it. Wear a white duck sailor suit with blue anchors and carry a red tin pail and a shovel43, if you want to look young. Only get into it in a jiffy, Son, because breakfast will be ready in ten minutes. I can tell by the way Annie's crashing the cups. So step lively if you want to pay your lovely mother's subway fare."
Ten minutes later the slim young figure, in its English-fitting black and white, sat opposite Emma McChesney at the breakfast table and between excited gulps44 of coffee outlined a meteoric45 career in his chosen field. And the more he talked and the rosier46 his figures of speech became, the more silent and thoughtful fell his mother. She wondered if five o'clock would find a droop47 to the set of those young shoulders; if the springy young legs in their absurdly scant48 modish trousers would have lost some of their elasticity49; if the buoyant step in the flat-heeled shoes would not drag a little. Thirteen years of business experience had taught her to swallow smilingly the bitter pill of rebuff. But this boy was to experience his first dose to-day. She felt again that sensation of almost physical nausea—that sickness of heart and spirit which had come over her when she had met her first sneer50 and intolerant shrug51. It had been her maiden52 trip on the road for the T.A. Buck53 Featherloom Petticoat Company. She was secretary of that company now, and moving spirit in its policy. But the wound of that first insult still ached. A word from her would have placed the boy and saved him from curt54 refusals. She withheld55 that word. He must fight his fight alone.
"I want to write the kind of ad," Jock was saying excitedly, "that you see 'em staring at in the subways, and street cars and L-trains. I want to sit across the aisle56 and watch their up-turned faces staring at that oblong, and reading it aloud to each other."
"Isn't that an awfully57 obvious necktie you're wearing, Jock?" inquired his mother irrelevantly58.
"This? You ought to see some of them. This is a Quaker stock in comparison." He glanced down complacently59 at the vivid-hued silken scarf that the season's mode demanded. Immediately he was off again. "And the first thing you know, Mrs. McChesney, ma'am, we'll have a motor truck backing up at the door once a month and six strong men carrying my salary to the freight elevator in sacks."
Emma McChesney buttered her bit of toast, then looked up to remark quietly:
"Hadn't you better qualify for the trial heats, Jock, before you jump into the finals?"
"Trial heats!" sneered60 Jock. "They're poky. I want real money. Now! It isn't enough to be just well-to-do in these days. It needs money. I want to be rich! Not just prosperous, but rich! So rich that I can let the bath soap float around in the water without any pricks61 of conscience. So successful that they'll say, 'And he's a mere62 boy, too. Imagine!'"
And, "Jock dear," Emma McChesney said, "you've still to learn that plans and ambitions are like soap bubbles. The harder you blow and the more you inflate63 them, the quicker they burst. Plans and ambitions are things to be kept locked away in your heart, Son, with no one but yourself to take an occasional peep at them."
Jock leaned over the table, with his charming smile. "You're a jealous blonde," he laughed. "Because I'm going to be a captain of finance—an advertising wizard; you're afraid I'll grab the glory all away from you."
''You're a jealous blond,' he said'
Mrs. McChesney folded her napkin and rose. She looked unbelievably young, and trim, and radiant, to be the mother of this boasting boy.
"I'm not afraid," she drawled, a wicked little glint in her blue eyes. "You see, they'll only regard your feats64 and say, 'H'm, no wonder. He ought to be able to sell ice to an Eskimo. His mother was Emma McChesney.'"
And then, being a modern mother, she donned smart autumn hat and tailored suit coat and stood ready to reach her office by nine-thirty. But because she was as motherly as she was modern she swung open the door between kitchen and dining-room to advise with Annie, the adept65.
"Lamb chops to-night, eh, Annie? And sweet potatoes. Jock loves 'em. And corn au gratin and some head lettuce66." She glanced toward Jock in the hallway, then lowered her voice. "Annie," she teased, "just give us one of your peach cobblers, will you? You see he—he's going to be awfully—tired when he gets home."
So they went stepping off to work together, mother and son. A mother of twenty-five years before would have watched her son with tear-dimmed eyes from the vine-wreathed porch of a cottage. There was no watching a son from the tenth floor of an up-town apartment house. Besides, she had her work to do. The subway swallowed both of them. Together they jostled and swung their way down-town in the close packed train. At the Twenty-third Street station Jock left her.
"You'll have dinner to-night with a full-fledged professional gent," he bragged67, in his youth and exuberance68 and was off down the aisle and out on the platform. Emma McChesney managed to turn in her nine-inch space of train seat so that she watched the slim, buoyant young figure from the window until the train drew away and he was lost in the stairway jam. Just so Rachel had watched the boy Joseph go to meet the Persian caravans69 in the desert.
"Don't let them buffalo70 you, Jock," Emma had said, just before he left her. "They'll try it. If they give you a broom and tell you to sweep down the back stairs, take it, and sweep, and don't forget the corners. And if, while you're sweeping71, you notice that that kind of broom isn't suited to the stairs go in and suggest a new kind. They'll like it."
Brooms and back stairways had no place in Jock McChesney's mind as the mahogany and gold elevator shot him up to the fourteenth floor of the great office building that housed the Berg, Shriner Company. Down the marble hallway he went and into the reception room. A cruel test it was, that reception room, with the cruelty peculiar72 to the modern in business. With its soft-shaded lamp, its two-toned rug, its Jacobean chairs, its magazine-laden cathedral oak table, its pot of bright flowers making a smart touch of color in the somber73 richness of the room, it was no place for the shabby, the down-and-out, the cringing74, the rusty, or the mendicant75.
Jock McChesney, from the tips of his twelve-dollar shoes to his radiant face, took the test and stood it triumphantly76. He had entered with an air in which was mingled77 the briskness78 of assurance with the languor79 of ease. There were times when Jock McChesney was every inch the son of his mother.
There advanced toward Jock a large, plump, dignified80 personage, a personage courteous, yet reserved, inquiring, yet not offensively curious—a very Machiavelli of reception-room ushers81. Even while his lips questioned, his eyes appraised83 clothes, character, conduct.
"Mr. Hupp, please," said Jock, serene84 in the perfection of his shirt, tie, collar and scarf pin, upon which the appraising85 eye now rested. "Mr. McChesney." He produced a card.
"Appointment?"
"No—but he'll see me."
But Machiavelli had seen too many overconfident callers. Their very confidence had taught him caution.
"If you will please state your—ah—business—"
Jock smiled a little patient smile and brushed an imaginary fleck86 of dust from the sleeve of his very correct coat.
"I want to ask him for a job as office boy," he jibed87.
An answering grin overspread the fat features of the usher82. Even an usher likes his little joke. The sense of humor dies hard.
"I have a letter from him, asking me to call," said Jock, to clinch88 it.
"This way." The keeper of the door led Jock toward the sacred inner portal and held it open. "Mr. Hupp's is the last door to the right."
The door closed behind him. Jock found himself in the big, busy, light-flooded central office. Down either side of the great room ran a row of tiny private offices, each partitioned off, each outfitted89 with desk, and chairs, and a big, bright window. On his way to the last door at the right Jock glanced into each tiny office, glimpsing busy men bent90 absorbedly over papers, girls busy with dictation, here and there a door revealing two men, or three, deep in discussion of a problem, heads close together, voices low, faces earnest. It came suddenly to the smartly modish, overconfident boy walking the length of the long room that the last person needed in this marvelously perfected and smooth-running organization was a somewhat awed91 young man named Jock McChesney. There came to him that strange sensation which comes to every job-hunter; that feeling of having his spiritual legs carry him out of the room, past the door, down the hall and into the street, even as, in reality, they bore him on to the very presence which he dreaded92 and yet wished to see.
Two steps more, and he stood in the last doorway, right. No matinee idol93, nervously94 awaiting his cue in the wings, could have planned his entrance more carefully than Jock had planned this. Ease was the thing; ease, bordering on nonchalance95, mixed with a brisk and businesslike assurance.
The entrance was lost on the man at the desk. He did not even look up. If Jock had entered on all-fours, doing a double tango to vocal96 accompaniment, it is doubtful if the man at the desk would have looked up. Pencil between his fingers, head held a trifle to one side in critical contemplation of the work before him, eyes narrowed judicially97, lips pursed, he was the concentrated essence of do-it-now.
'He was the concentrated essence of do-it-now'
Jock waited a moment, in silence. The man at the desk worked on. His head was semi-bald. Jock knew him to be thirty. Jock fixed98 his eye on the semi-bald spot and spoke99.
"My name's McChesney," he began. "I wrote you three days ago; you probably will remember. You replied, asking me to call, and I—"
"Minute," exploded the man at the desk, still absorbed.
Jock faltered100, stopped. The man at the desk did not look up. A moment of silence, except for the sound of the busy pencil traveling across the paper. Jock, glaring at the semi-bald spot, spoke again.
"Of course, Mr. Hupp, if you're too busy to see me—"
"M-m-m-m," a preoccupied101 hum, such as a busy man makes when he is trying to give attention to two interests.
"—why I suppose there's no sense in staying; but it seems to me that common courtesy—"
The busy pencil paused, quivered in the making of a final period, enclosed the dot in a proofreader's circle, and rolled away across the desk, its work done.
"Now," said Sam Hupp, and swung around, smiling, to face the affronted102 Jock. "I had to get that out. They're waiting for it." He pressed a desk button. "What can I do for you? Sit down, sit down."
There was a certain abrupt35 geniality103 about him. His tortoise-rimmed glasses gave him an oddly owlish look, like a small boy taking liberties with grandfather's spectacles.
Jock found himself sitting down, his anger slipping from him.
"My name's McChesney," he began. "I'm here because I want to work for this concern." He braced104 himself to present the convincing, reason-why arguments with which he had prepared himself.
Whereupon Sam Hupp, the brisk, proceeded to whisk his breath and arguments away with an unexpected:
"All right. What do you want to do?"
Jock's mouth fell open. "Do!" he stammered105. "Do! Why—anything—"
Sam Hupp's quick eye swept over the slim, attractive, radiant, correctly-garbed young figure before him. Unconsciously he rubbed his bald spot with a rueful hand.
"Know anything about writing, or advertising?"
Jock was at ease immediately. "Quite a lot; yes. I practically rewrote the Gridiron play that we gave last year, and I was assistant advertising manager of the college publications for two years. That gives a fellow a pretty broad knowledge of advertising."
"Oh, Lord!" groaned106 Sam Hupp, and covered his eyes with his hand, as if in pain.
Jock stared. The affronted feeling was returning. Sam Hupp recovered himself and smiled a little wistfully.
"McChesney, when I came up here twelve years ago I got a job as reception-room usher. A reception-room usher is an office boy in long pants. Sometimes, when I'm optimistic, I think that if I live twelve years longer I'll begin to know something about the rudiments107 of this game."
"Oh, of course," began Jock, apologetically. But Hupp's glance was over his head. Involuntarily Jock turned to follow the direction of his eyes.
"Busy?" said a voice from the doorway.
"Come in, Dutch! Come in!" boomed Hupp.
The man who entered was of the sort that the boldest might well hesitate to address as "Dutch"—a tall, slim, elegant figure, Van-dyked, bronzed.
"McChesney, this is Von Herman, head of our art department."
Their hands met in a brief clasp. Von Herman's thoughts were evidently elsewhere.
"Just wanted to tell you that that cussed model's skipped out. Gone with a show. Just when I had the whole series blocked out in my mind. He was a wonder. No brains, but a marvel for looks and style. These people want real stuff. Don't know how I'm going to give it to them now."
Hupp sat up. "Got to!" he snapped. "Campaign's late, as it is. Can't you get an ordinary man model and fake the Greek god beauty?"
"Yes—but it'll look faked. If I could lay my hands on a chap who could wear clothes as if they belonged to him—"
Hupp rose. "Here's your man," he cried, with a snap of his fingers. "Clothes! Look at him. He invented 'em. Why, you could photograph him and he'd look like a drawing."
Von Herman turned, surprised, incredulous, hopeful, his artist eye brightening at the ease and grace and modishness108 of the smart, well-knit figure before him.
"Me!" exploded Jock, his face suffused109 with a dull, painful red. "Me! Pose! For a clothing ad!"
"Well," Hupp reminded him, "you said you'd do anything."
Jock McChesney glared belligerently110. Hupp returned the stare with a faint gleam of amusement shining behind the absurd glasses. The amused look changed to surprise as he beheld111 the glare in Jock's eyes fading. For even as he glared there had come a warning to Jock—a warning sent just in time from that wireless112 station located in his subconscious113 mind. A vivid face, full of pride, and hope, and encouragement flashed before him.
"Jock," it said, "don't let 'em buffalo you. They'll try it. If they give you a broom and tell you to sweep down the back stairs—"
Jock was smiling his charming, boyish smile.
"Lead me to your north light," he laughed at Von Herman. "Got any Robert W. Chambers's heroines tucked away there?"
Hupp's broad hand came down on his shoulder with a thwack. "That's the spirit, McChesney! That's the—" He stopped, abruptly. "Say, are you related to Mrs. Emma McChesney, of the Featherloom Skirt Company?"
"Slightly. She's my one and only mother."
"She—you mean—her son! Well I'll be darned!" He held out his hand to Jock. "If you're a real son of your mother I wish you'd just call the office boy as you step down the hall with Von Herman and tell him to bring me a hammer and a couple of spikes114. I'd better nail down my desk."
"I'll promise not to crowd you for a year or two," grinned Jock from the doorway, and was off with the pleased Von Herman.
Past the double row of beehives again, into the elevator, out again, up a narrow iron stairway, into a busy, cluttered115, skylighted room. Pictures, posters, photographs hung all about. Some of the pictures Jock recognized as old friends that had gazed familiarly at him from subway trains and street cars and theater programmes. Golf clubs, tennis rackets, walking sticks, billiard cues were stacked up in corners. And yet there was a bare and orderly look about the place. Two silent, shirt-sleeved men were busy at drawing boards. Through a doorway beyond Jock could see others similarly engaged in the next room. On a platform in one corner of the room posed a young man in one of those costumes the coat of which is a mongrel mixture of cutaway and sack. You see them worn by clergymen with unsecular ideas in dress, and by the leader of the counterfeiters' gang in the moving pictures. The pose was that met with in the backs of magazines—the head lifted, eyes fixed on an interesting object unseen, one arm crooked117 to hold a cane118, one foot advanced, the other trailing slightly to give a Fifth Avenue four o'clock air. His face was expressionless. On his head was a sadly unironed silk hat.
Von Herman glanced at the drawing tacked116 to the board of one of the men. "That'll do, Flynn," he said to the model. He glanced again at the drawing. "Bring out the hat a little more, Mack. They won't burnish119 it if you don't,"—to the artist. Then, turning about, "Where's that girl?"
From a far corner, sheltered by long green curtains, stepped a graceful120 almost childishly slim figure in a bronze-green Norfolk suit and close-fitting hat from beneath which curled a fluff of bright golden hair. Von Herman stared at her.
"You're not the girl," he said. "You won't do."
"You sent for me," retorted the girl. "I'm Miss Michelin—Gelda Michelin. I posed for you six months ago, but I've been out of town with the show since then."
Von Herman, frowning, opened a table drawer, pulled out a card index, ran his long fingers through it and extracted a card. He glanced at it, and then, the frown deepening, read it aloud.
"'Michelin, Gelda. Telephone Bryant 4759. Brunette. Medium build. Good neck and eyes. Good figure. Good clothes.'"
He glanced up. "Well?"
"That's me," said Miss Michelin calmly. "I've got the same telephone number and eyes and neck and clothes. Of course my hair is different and I am thinner, but that's business. I'd like to know what chance a fat girl would have in the chorus these days."
Von Herman groaned. "I'll pay you for the time you've waited and for your trouble. Can't use you for these pictures." Then as she left he turned a comically despairing face to the two men at the drawing boards. "What are we going to do? We've got to make a start on these pictures and everything has gone wrong. They want something special. Two figures, young man and woman. Said expressly they didn't want a chicken. No romping121 curls and none of that eyes and lips fool-girl stuff. This chap's ideal for the man." He pointed122 to Jock.
Jock had been staring, fascinated, at the shaded, zigzag123 marks which the artist—dark-skinned, velvet-eyed, foreign-looking youth—was making on the sheet of paper before him. He had scarcely glanced up during the entire scene. Now he looked briefly124 and coolly at Jock.
"Where did you get him?" he asked, with the precise enunciation125 of the foreign-born. "Good figure. And he wears his clothes not like a cab driver, as the others do."
"Thanks," drawled Jock, flushing a little. Then, boyish curiosity getting the better of him, "Say, tell me, what in the world are you doing to that drawing?"
He of the velvety126 eyes smiled a twisted little smile. His slim brown fingers never stopped in their work of guiding the pen in its zigzag path.
"It is work," he sneered, "to delight the soul of an artist. I am now engaged in the pleasing task of putting the bones in a herringbone suit."
But Jock did not smile. Here was another man, he thought, who had been given a broom and told to sweep down the stairway.
Von Herman was regarding him almost wistfully. "I hate to let you slip," he said. Then, his face brightening, "By Jove! I wonder if Miss Galt would pose for us if we told her what a fix we were in."
He picked up the telephone receiver. "Miss Galt, please," he said. Then, aside, "Of course it's nerve to ask a girl who's earning three thousand a year to leave her desk and come up and pose for—Hello! Miss Galt?"
Jock, seated on the edge of the models' platform, was beginning to enjoy himself. Even this end of the advertising business had its interesting side, he thought. Ten minutes later he knew it had.
Ten minutes later there appeared Miss Galt. Jock left off swinging his legs from the platform and stood up. Miss Galt was that kind of girl. Smooth black hair parted and coiled low as only an exquisitely127 shaped head can dare to wear its glory-crown. A face whose expression was sweetly serious in spite of its youth. A girl whose clothes were the sort of clothes that girls ought to wear in offices, and don't.
"This is mighty128 good of you, Miss Galt," began Von Herman. "It's the Kool Komfort Klothes Company's summer campaign stuff. We'll only need you for an hour or so—to get the expression and general outline. Poster stuff, really. Then this young man will pose for the summer union suit pictures."
"Don't apologize," said Miss Galt. "We had a hard enough time to get that Kool Komfort account. We don't want to start wrong with the pictures. Besides, I think posing's real fun."
Jock thought so too, quite suddenly. Just as suddenly Von Herman remembered the conventions and introduced them.
"McChesney?" repeated Miss Galt, crisply. "I know a Mrs. McChesney, of the T.A. Buck—"
"My mother," proudly.
"Your mother! Then why—" She stopped.
"Because," said Jock, "I'm the rawest rooky in the Berg, Shriner Company. And when I begin to realize what I don't know about advertising I'll probably want to plunge129 off the Palisades."
Miss Galt smiled up at him, her clear, frank eyes meeting his.
"You'll win," she said.
"Even if I lose—I win now," said Jock, suddenly audacious.
"Hi! Hold that pose!" called Von Herman, happily.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
vertically
|
|
| adv.垂直地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
picturesque
|
|
| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
expressive
|
|
| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
persuasive
|
|
| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
rusty
|
|
| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
wont
|
|
| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
skyscraper
|
|
| n.摩天大楼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
wares
|
|
| n. 货物, 商品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
dealer
|
|
| n.商人，贩子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
quaint
|
|
| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
predecessor
|
|
| n.前辈，前任 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
marvel
|
|
| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
albeit
|
|
| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
enamel
|
|
| n.珐琅，搪瓷，瓷釉；(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
cylinders
|
|
| n.圆筒( cylinder的名词复数 )；圆柱；汽缸；（尤指用作容器的）圆筒状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
chuckled
|
|
| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
automobile
|
|
| n.汽车，机动车 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
verbiage
|
|
| n.冗词；冗长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
juggled
|
|
| v.歪曲( juggle的过去式和过去分词 )；耍弄；有效地组织；尽力同时应付（两个或两个以上的重要工作或活动） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
unctuous
|
|
| adj.油腔滑调的，大胆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
antiquated
|
|
| adj.陈旧的，过时的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
courteous
|
|
| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
watchful
|
|
| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
hoarse
|
|
| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
hoots
|
|
| 咄，啐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
blithely
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，快活地，无挂虑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
synonym
|
|
| n.同义词，换喻词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
suave
|
|
| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
judicious
|
|
| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
advertising
|
|
| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
abrupt
|
|
| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
dangled
|
|
| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
modish
|
|
| adj.流行的，时髦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
moody
|
|
| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
irritably
|
|
| ad.易生气地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
poised
|
|
| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
muffled
|
|
| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
shovel
|
|
| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
gulps
|
|
| n.一大口（尤指液体）( gulp的名词复数 )v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的第三人称单数 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
meteoric
|
|
| adj.流星的，转瞬即逝的，突然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
rosier
|
|
| Rosieresite | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
droop
|
|
| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
scant
|
|
| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
elasticity
|
|
| n.弹性，伸缩力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
sneer
|
|
| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
shrug
|
|
| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
maiden
|
|
| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
buck
|
|
| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
curt
|
|
| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
withheld
|
|
| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
aisle
|
|
| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
awfully
|
|
| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
irrelevantly
|
|
| adv.不恰当地，不合适地；不相关地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
complacently
|
|
| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
sneered
|
|
| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
pricks
|
|
| 刺痛( prick的名词复数 )； 刺孔； 刺痕； 植物的刺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
inflate
|
|
| vt.使膨胀，使骄傲，抬高（物价） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
feats
|
|
| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
adept
|
|
| adj.老练的，精通的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
lettuce
|
|
| n.莴苣；生菜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
bragged
|
|
| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
exuberance
|
|
| n.丰富；繁荣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
caravans
|
|
| （可供居住的）拖车（通常由机动车拖行）( caravan的名词复数 )； 篷车； （穿过沙漠地带的）旅行队（如商队） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
buffalo
|
|
| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
somber
|
|
| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
cringing
|
|
| adj.谄媚，奉承 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
mendicant
|
|
| n.乞丐；adj.行乞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
triumphantly
|
|
| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
briskness
|
|
| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
languor
|
|
| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
dignified
|
|
| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
ushers
|
|
| n.引座员( usher的名词复数 )；招待员；门房；助理教员v.引，领，陪同( usher的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
usher
|
|
| n.带位员，招待员；vt.引导，护送；vi.做招待，担任引座员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
appraised
|
|
| v.估价( appraise的过去式和过去分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
serene
|
|
| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
appraising
|
|
| v.估价( appraise的现在分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
fleck
|
|
| n.斑点，微粒 vt.使有斑点，使成斑驳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
jibed
|
|
| v.与…一致( jibe的过去式和过去分词 )；（与…）相符；相匹配 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
clinch
|
|
| v.敲弯，钉牢；确定；扭住对方 [参]clench | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
outfitted
|
|
| v.装备，配置设备，供给服装( outfit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
awed
|
|
| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
dreaded
|
|
| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
idol
|
|
| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
nervously
|
|
| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
nonchalance
|
|
| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
vocal
|
|
| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
judicially
|
|
| 依法判决地，公平地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
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： |
|
|
|
|
100
faltered
|
|
| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
preoccupied
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
affronted
|
|
| adj.被侮辱的，被冒犯的v.勇敢地面对( affront的过去式和过去分词 )；相遇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
geniality
|
|
| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
braced
|
|
| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
stammered
|
|
| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
groaned
|
|
| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
rudiments
|
|
| n.基础知识，入门 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
modishness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
109
suffused
|
|
| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
belligerently
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
wireless
|
|
| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
subconscious
|
|
| n./adj.潜意识(的)，下意识(的) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
spikes
|
|
| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
cluttered
|
|
| v.杂物，零乱的东西零乱vt.( clutter的过去式和过去分词 )；乱糟糟地堆满，把…弄得很乱；（以…） 塞满… | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
tacked
|
|
| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
crooked
|
|
| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
cane
|
|
| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
burnish
|
|
| v.磨光；使光滑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
romping
|
|
| adj.嬉戏喧闹的，乱蹦乱闹的v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的现在分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
zigzag
|
|
| n.曲折，之字形；adj.曲折的，锯齿形的；adv.曲折地，成锯齿形地；vt.使曲折；vi.曲折前行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
enunciation
|
|
| n.清晰的发音；表明，宣言；口齿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
velvety
|
|
| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
exquisitely
|
|
| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
plunge
|
|
| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |