Scattered2 amongst the palms and thorn trees the debris3 of a camp evidenced the passing of a caravan4, and three or four miles away the train of lurching camels with its escort of mounted Arabs was still visible moving steadily6 over the rolling waste, heading for the south. Seated cross-legged on the warm ground, idly dribbling7 sand through his long, brown fingers, Carew watched it with a feeling of envy, longing8 for the time when he could once more lead his own caravan towards the heart of the great desert whither his thoughts turned perpetually.
But for the promise made to General Sanois he would already have left Algiers. The small attraction the town had once had for him had vanished completely in the mental disturbance10 that had dominated him during the last few weeks. And Sanois’ preparations dragged interminably. Daily Carew was tempted11 to put his half-laughing threat into execution and abandon the whole enterprise. But the constant delays were no fault of the General who was straining every nerve to complete his arrangements—and Carew had given his word. There was nothing for it but to wait with what patience he could muster12.
Out of tune13 with himself and his surroundings he had gone for distraction14 to Biskra to attend the annual race meeting, and for three crowded days he had been able, partially15, to forget the strange unrest that beset16 him. But only partially. The little desert town, filled to overflowing17 for the great event of the year, was too small for chance meetings to be avoided and several times he had glimpsed Geradine, blustering18 and insufferable there as in Algiers. But keeping closely to his own circle of acquaintances Carew had escaped coming into contact with the man for whom he had conceived a hatred19 that was inexplicable20. And in Biskra he had other interests besides the racing21 to engage his attention. Amongst the Arab chiefs who poured into the town from far and wide he had encountered many old friends. And it was in response to the earnest request from one of them, the strangest Arab he had ever known, that Carew had left Biskra early the previous day to ride with him the first couple of stages of a journey that would take the sheik weeks to accomplish.
It was long since they had met and the intervening years had brought startling and unforeseen changes into the life of the man Carew remembered as a light-hearted captain of Spahis who had been more Frenchman than Arab in his tastes and inclinations23.
Carew’s gaze turned musingly24 to the chief who lay stretched on the ground beside him. Wrapped in his burnous, his face hidden in his arms, he had slept, or seemed to sleep throughout the hour of the siesta25 and not even the clamour and bustle26 of the departing caravan had roused him. Carew had watched the breaking up of the camp with more than ordinary interest. A headman had superintended the arrangements with precision and despatch27 that savoured more of military methods than the usual haphazard29 procedure prevalent among journeying Arabs; and the escort, of whom a dozen or so remained at the further side of the oasis chatting with Hosein, were all obviously fighting men, extraordinarily30 disciplined and orderly.
Still in disgrace with the Administration for the wiping out of a contiguous tribe ten years before, for what purpose had Said Ibn Zarrarah, ex-captain of Spahis and paramount31 chief of a large district, not only fostered the warlike instincts of a people with fighting traditions behind them but endeavoured, apparently32 with success, to engraft on them the European tactics he had himself learnt from the rulers of the country? It was an intriguing33 question Carew had pondered while his companion slept. In the old days France had had no more devoted34 adherent35 than the dashing young Spahi. Was there now any ulterior motive36 in the militarism he encouraged in his people, or was it merely a means by which he sought to distract his mind from a life that Carew knew to be uncongenial?
A younger son with no immediate38 prospect39 of succeeding to the leadership of the tribe, with aspirations40 that had never found fulfillment in his desert home, he had, on joining his regiment41, become thoroughly42 Gallicised, spending long periods of leave in Paris and unlike the average semi-educated native assimilating only what was best in western thought and culture. Unspoilt by the flattery and attention heaped on him, notorious for his cold disregard of women, he had lived for his regiment and the racing stable he maintained in France. The death of his elder brother, killed in the raid that had put him out of favour with the Government, had called him from the life he loved to assume the cares and duties of a chieftainship he had never desired. Hotly resenting the heavy censure43 of the authorities on an action that had been misrepresented to them, and too proud to explain the necessity that had forced his hand, he had severed44 all connections with the past and had retired45 to his desert fastness to combat the suspicions of the elders of his tribe who had distrusted him for his want of religious zeal46 and for his adherence47 to the very people with whom he was in disgrace.
The irony48 of the situation had not been lost on him and it had been a certain satisfaction to prove conclusively49 his loyalty50 to his father’s house. The Governor who had condemned51 his action had been superseded52 shortly afterwards, but the chief of the Ibn Zarrarah had ignored the change and made no effort towards reconciliation53. His heart turned often in secret to the France he had known and loved, he held aloof54 from his old associates, keeping strictly55 to his own territory and immersing himself in the affairs of his tribe. He had lived down the mistrust of even the most conservative of his people, conforming outwardly to an orthodoxy that gave him no inward consolation56.
This year, for the first time in ten years, he had yielded to the long suppressed desire to revisit the scene of former pleasures. In the old days he had been a conspicuous57 and well-known figure at the annual race meeting at Biskra, popular with Arab and Frenchman alike and famous for his stud of magnificent horses. The visit just concluded had been made under very different circumstances. Unrecognised and almost unremembered he had kept entirely58 to the company of his own countrymen, a spectator only where once he had been a moving spirit.
The experience had been fraught59 with more pain than pleasure. He was human enough to feel the difference keenly, philosophical60 enough to be contemptuous of his own bitterness. But all his philosophy could not heal the ache in his heart or still the longings61 quickened by the sound of the soft musical language he had spoken for years in preference to his own.
And now when Carew bent62 forward and touched him with a half-laughing “Ho, dreamer!” in the vernacular63, he sat up with a jerk revealing dark melancholy64 eyes that were not dulled with sleep but hard and bright with concentrated thought. “For the love of God speak French,” he ejaculated. “Oh, I know I’m a fool,” he went on with a half-defiant ring in his voice, “a bigger fool than most—I always was. I was a fool to forget that I was an Arab, to try and imagine myself a Frenchman. I was a fool, when my brother Omair remained childless, not to realise that I might at any time be called upon to give up all that made life pleasant for me. And when he was killed I was a fool to do what I did. You know what happened. I went to Algiers to make my amende honorable for having broken the peace of the border, and the Governor—that fat old Faidherbe who was always trembling for his own skin—waited for no explanation but lost his temper and cursed me. I was ‘an ingrate65 to be viewed with the deepest suspicion,’ I was ‘a turbulent chief who was a menace to the country.’ I was everything that was vile66 and contemptible67 and dishonourable. I lost my own temper in the end and cursed him back until I didn’t know how I got out of the Palace without being arrested. I left Algiers within the hour and Faidherbe misrepresented the whole case to the Ministry68 of the Interior, and I have been under suspicion ever since. But what else could I do? I had to fight. I loved Omair. When it came to the pinch I found that my love for him was greater than my love for France. I fought to defend his honour, and what I did later I did to avenge69 his death—do you blame me?”
His restless eyes swept upward in frowning enquiry and a momentary70 gleam lit them as Carew shook his head.
“No! but France blames me, and it hurts—damnably. France—” his voice softened71 suddenly—“what she meant to me once! I loved her, I love her still—the more fool I! She is like a woman—fickle, undependable—courting you today, spurning72 you tomorrow. But I cannot hate her as I hate women though she has hurt me as women have hurt me. Women! God’s curses on them!” he exclaimed violently. “I always detested73 them, always avoided them, but they made me suffer despite myself. For love of a woman Omair died. The love of a woman took from me my best friend, an Englishman as you are, just when I needed him most. Bon Dieu, how I loathe74 them!” He flung himself back on the sand with a harsh laugh.
The confidence Carew had been expecting ever since they left Biskra had come with a rush. Much of the story was known to him already. A garbled75 account of the chief’s delinquencies had been given to him years ago in Algiers, more he had learned from his numerous Arab friends. That there were faults on both sides was evident, but it was clearly a case where leniency76 might very well have been extended to a chief who had been one of France’s warmest admirers. It had been the last blunder of a weak and unscrupulous Governor whose term of office had been a series of unfortunate happenings. To curry77 favour with the home authorities he had screened his own hastiness and magnified the chief’s offence, forgetting that his scapegoat78 had it in his power to retaliate79 in a way that would have cost France much. The Ibn Zarrarah were a large and powerful tribe whose sphere of influence was far reaching and, flushed at the moment with victory, a revolt of more than ordinary magnitude might easily have occurred. Their chief, seething80 under a sense of injustice81, a very little might have turned the scale in favour of rebellion—and wars of suppression were expensive. And often Carew had wondered not at what Said Ibn Zarrarah had done but at what he had left undone82. But now as he sat still raking the loose warm sand with his fingers he was thinking more of the chief’s concluding words than of his grievance83 against the French Government.
He looked again at the distant caravan, a mere37 smudge now on the horizon. He had spent a day and a night with the Arab and his train of followers84 and he had reason to know that one of those slow moving camels carried the closely screened travelling box of the wife of the man who had cursed all women as heartily85 and as passionately86 as ever he had done himself.
“You loathe women—and yet you are married,” he said slowly, without turning his head or altering the direction of his gaze.
“For the sake of the tribe,” he flashed. “Do you think by any chance that I did it to please myself! Do I do anything to please myself in these days? I put it off as long as possible, but my people were insistent—the house of Zarrarah had need of an heir.”
“And your wife—?” The involuntary question surprised Carew even more than his listener. To an ordinary Arab the remark would have been beyond the bounds of all etiquette89 and convention; to Said Ibn Zarrarah, western in his ideas even with regard to the sex he despised, it was curious only as coming from the man it did.
“She is happy with her child,” he said with a shrug90 of indifference91, and searched for a cigarette in the folds of his burnous. But despite his outward show of unconcern it seemed as if his answer had scarcely contented92 himself for his black brows were knitted gloomily and his face almost sullen93 as he sat smoking in silence with his melancholy eyes fixed94 on the boundless95 space before him. “Why should she not be happy?” he burst out at length. “She has everything she asks for—the only wonder is she asks so little. She has more liberty allowed her than the average Arab woman—and is too rigid96 an Arab to make use of it. She is alone in my harem, she has no rival to make her life miserable—and she has borne a son to the house of Zarrarah.”
A shadow crossed Carew’s face as he turned and looked at his companion curiously98. “And is that no compensation to you? There are those who would envy you your son, Sheik,” he said, with a touch of bitterness in his voice. But his question went unanswered and he changed the conversation abruptly99.
“You were a fool to leave it to Faidherbe,” he said with friendly candour. “You knew what he was, and the attitude he was likely to adopt. You had your chance with the change of administration. His successor is a very different type. He would at least have listened to your explanations with an open mind. He would listen to them now if you chose to make them. But the first move must come from you. You cannot expect the Government to make overtures101 to one who is suspect. I heard the story at the time, of course—Faidherbe’s version of it, that is to say. But I could do nothing then. I was practically new to the country and I was not—”
“You were not El Hakim—the eye of France,” cut in the chief with a swift smile. Carew laughed.
“Is that what they call me? A blind eye, Sheik, where my friends are concerned.” The chief nodded. “That I have also heard. And that is why you are trusted—trusted as few men are in Algeria,” he added gravely.
And for a time he relapsed into silence and Carew waited for the suggestion he preferred the other to make. He had a certain influence now with the Government, he could pave the way for a reconciliation—if Said Ibn Zarrarah really desired it. But did he desire it? It was clear from what he had said that in spite of his very natural feeling of resentment103 the chief nourished no schemes of revenge and had no thought of turning the large forces at his command against the country he still admired. But wounded in his deepest susceptibilities, embittered104 by years of solitary105 brooding, would his pride allow him to make overtures that must of necessity be humiliating and would require a certain moral courage to perform? And his present position was a strong one, apart from the injury to his feelings he had little to lose or gain either way.
It was a problem the chief would have to decide for himself. In the years that Carew had worked in the country he had learned to keep his own counsel. He never interfered107 or gave gratuitous108 advice, and was chary109 even of advising when asked. He had come to have a deep insight into the workings of the native mind and he had long since realised the value of neutrality. His r?le of intermediary was possible only so long as his sympathies remained equally divided between the people of the land and their foreign rulers.
And now he waited long for Said Ibn Zarrarah to speak, so long that more than once he glanced covertly110 at the watch on his wrist. It was time, and past the time, that the chief should start to overtake the caravan that was now no longer distinguishable, and time that he himself set out on the fifty mile ride back to Biskra. Travelling with no camping impedimenta to hinder him he had reckoned on spending the night at a tiny village that was known to him and which made a convenient halting place. He would have to ride hard if the squalid little collection of mud huts was to be reached before the light gave out. Not that either he or Hosein minded a night spent supperless under the stars, but there were the horses to be considered. There was, too, an odd feeling in the air that he had only just realised. The heat that all day had been intense was now suffocating112. And as he raised his hand to brush away the moisture lying thick on his forehead, it dawned on him that he had been doing so frequently during the last hour. Instinctively113 his eyes swept the horizon. There was nothing to break the uninterrupted view, and seen through the shimmering114 haze115 that eddied116 from its surface, the wide expanse of sand looked like the rolling waves of a vast leaden sea. A sullen angry sea that seemed to heave and writhe117 as though straining to let loose the tremendous forces lying dormant118 within its mighty119 bosom120. And far off to the southeast, where sky and sand met, a faint dark line like an inky smudge caught Carew’s attention and sent him to his feet with a sharp exclamation121.
“You were better with your people, Sheik.”
At the sound of his voice the chief looked up with a start and sudden anxiety flashed into his eyes as they followed the direction of the other’s pointing finger. Then his gaze turned southward and for a moment he stood peering intently as if striving to visualise the caravan that had long since passed out of sight. Without moving he shouted to his men and almost before the words died on his lips his horse was beside him and he swung into the saddle.
Bending down he caught Carew’s outstretched hand in a grip that conveyed much he did not utter.
“Some day I may ask you to speak for me,” he muttered hurriedly, and was gone in a swirl122 of dust and sand.
For a minute or two Carew lingered, looking after him, then turned to Hosein who was bringing up the horses. The man jerked his head towards the east. “My lord has seen?” he murmured. Carew nodded. “It may pass,” he said, running his fingers caressingly123 over Suliman’s neck before gathering124 up the reins126. But Hosein shook his head. “It will come,” he asserted positively127, “they know,” he added, pointing to the horses whose nervous fidgeting and sweat-drenched128 coats evidenced uneasiness.
“Then in God’s name let it come,” replied Carew with a short laugh, “are we children to fear a sandstorm?” And Hosein’s grim features relaxed in an answering grin as he held his master’s stirrup for him to mount.
Riding, the air seemed less stagnant129 but the heat increased momentarily and the deep silence of the desert was more strangely silent than usual.
The horses were racing, urged by instinct, and splashes of white foam130 thrown back from Suliman’s champing jaws131 powdered Carew’s dark burnous like flakes132 of snow.
But it was Said Ibn Zarrarah rather than the approaching sandstorm that engaged his mind as he leant forward in the saddle to ease his weight from the galloping134 horse. Said’s case was only one of thousands of others, he reflected. East or west the problems of life were very similar. The point of view might differ but the problems remained the same. The eternal struggle between duty and inclination22 was not confined only to the so-called civilized135 races but raged as fiercely here under the burning African sun as in many more temperate136 climes. And Said Ibn Zarrarah, trained from boyhood to despotism and self-indulgence, had shown more moral courage than he himself had done. Surrendering to a sense of obligation the Arab had gone back to the life he loathed137 and assumed duties that were distasteful to him, while he, for a private sorrow, had shirked the responsibilities that were his by inheritance. It was a humiliating truth that was indisputable.
And from Said Ibn Zarrarah, Carew’s thoughts wandered to the young wife who was waiting for the coming of the husband who had married her only to satisfy the wishes of his people. It was a strange marriage even for an Arab woman. Though treated evidently with unusual consideration, her life must be a difficult one. Rigidly138 orthodox, as there was every reason to suppose she was, her lord’s western tendencies and liberality of thought would alone be sufficient cause for perplexity and bewilderment. And solitary in a harem that was probably a marvel139 of oriental sumptuousness140, surrounded by everything that a woman could desire, with no spoken wish ungratified, might she not still be longing for more than the cold and empty symbols of a lavish141 generosity142 that was prompted only by a sense of what was properly her due as the wife of a powerful sheik? “She has everything she asks for—the only wonder is she asks so little.” Unloved and perhaps yearning143 for the love denied her, were her wants so few by reason of the one want that made all others valueless to her? Said, with his magnificent physique and fine features, was an arresting figure of a man who would appeal to any woman, more particularly to one who could have had little or no opportunity of seeing other men with whom to contrast him. Small wonder if the girl-bride had fallen in love with her stalwart, handsome husband. And he? Was love for her dawning in spite of his professed145 hatred of women—was the mother of his son already more to him than he realised? He was not as indifferent to her welfare as his words had seemed to imply. He had gone unnecessarily out of his way to endeavour to represent her as contented with her lot. That in itself was significant. And the look that had leaped to his eyes when Carew drew his attention to the threatening storm was certainly not anxiety on his own behalf.
What did the coming years hold for him and the woman he had married? The woman—Carew checked his wandering thoughts with a bitter smile. What had he to do with women and the love of women?
Jerking his head angrily he waved Hosein to his side, and as he turned in the saddle a sudden gust147 of wind, scorching148 as the heat from an oven door, struck against his face and a heavy peal144 of thunder crashed through the intense stillness, reverberating149 sharply like the prolonged rattling150 of artillery151. For an instant the horses faltered152, quivering and snorting, then leaped forward racing neck and neck and, together, the two men looked behind them. The inky smudge on the skyline was blacker and more apparent than it had been, rolling swiftly up like a dense153 impenetrable wall, and for the first time Carew realised the gloom that, preoccupied154, he had not noticed before. There seemed no possibility now of escaping the storm that earlier he had thought would pass too far to the south to touch them, and the prospects155 for the night should they over-ride the tiny village in the darkness, were not cheering. But it was all in the day’s work and he was accustomed to the vagaries156 of the desert. And there was something in the thought of the approaching struggle with the elements that stirred his blood and made him almost welcome the physical discomfort157 that would inevitably158 ensue. It was something tangible159 he could contend with, something he could do, and doing, forget perhaps for a few hours the strange unrest that had laid so strong a hold on him.
A vivid flash of lightning followed by another deafening160 roar of thunder stemmed the current of his thoughts and concentrated all his attention on his nervous mount. The pick of his stud, Suliman was the fastest horse Carew had ever ridden, and today, fleeter than usual by reason of his fear, it was difficult to restrain the headlong gallop133 that threatened to carry him far beyond his companion.
Tightening161 his grip Carew leant forward soothing162 the terrified animal with voice and hand. The gloom was increasing, the gusts163 of hot wind more frequent and of longer duration, bringing with them now the stinging whip of driving sand. There was a distant muttering like the far off surge of waves beating against a rocky coast and suddenly the sun went out, hidden by the racing clouds that swept across the heavens, and with a tearing, whining164 scream the storm broke.
Reeling under the terrific impact of the wind that staggered even the galloping horses, blinded with the swirling165 sand, the two men crouched166 low in their saddles, wrestling with the flapping cloaks they strove to draw closer about them, struggling to keep near to each other, their voices lost in the roar of the tempest. The surrounding country was obliterated167 and a thick darkness enveloped168 them. Between his knees Carew could feel the great bay trembling and starting but the strain was eased somewhat from his arms for the need of companionship had driven Suliman close beside the horse Hosein was riding. It was pure chance now where they would find themselves when the storm abated169 for the darkness and the whirling clouds of sand obscured every landmark170. But it was not a matter with which Carew concerned himself. He had been through many sandstorms, fiercer and more prolonged than this one was likely to be. And here they were only catching171 the fringe of it. Further to the south Said, with his slow moving camels and the burden of women on his hands, was probably in a far worse case and would spend a more uncomfortable night than they would. With a shrug he spat28 out a mouthful of sand and dragged the heavy burnous higher about his face. The flying particles stung like showers of spraying glass and the reins were rough and gritty between his wet fingers. From time to time he shook off the clinging accumulation but it gathered fast again filtering up his wide sleeves and penetrating172 through his thick clothing till his whole body was tingling173 and pricking174. But in spite of the discomfort he was happier than he had been for weeks. The fighting instinct in him leaped to meet the fury of the storm. There was no time to think. He lived for the moment, every nerve strained to the utmost, his sombre eyes glowing with a curious look of pleasure, his knees thrust tight against his horse’s ribs175, his powerful limbs braced176 to resist the violent gusts that threatened to tear him from the saddle. The fierce howling of the wind, the savage177 pitilessness of the scene filled him with a strange excitement, making him exult178 in his own physical strength, the strength that had enabled him to pursue the wild and strenuous179 life he had made his own. It was nature, capricious and changeful as he had learned to know her—the nature he had turned to in his time of need, the nature he would go back to with undiminished pleasure and confidence. A hard mistress, cruel often, but alluring180 and compelling for her very waywardness.
The storm had been raging for some time before the rain came, a heavy tropical downpour that, unexpected as it was short lived, drenched the men’s thick cloaks and caked the sand on the horse’s bodies. It passed quickly and with its going the gloom lessened181 slightly and the wind abated somewhat of its violence. But Carew placed no faith in the temporary lull182. It would blow again later, or he was very much mistaken, and probably harder than before. Meanwhile it was an opportunity to push on, to increase the pace of the horses, whose mad gallop had gradually slackened while the storm was at its height. It was only nerves and the strong wind that had slowed them down. They were capable of a good deal yet in spite of the strain they had gone through. It was not such blind going now but it was still impossible to distinguish any of the outstanding features of the district and the village they were making for could be easily passed within a stone’s throw and yet missed. And night was falling rapidly. There was nothing for it but to carry on and trust to luck.
For an hour they rode steadily, huddled183 in their dripping cloaks, silent as they usually were when together. And the moment, to men even more communicatively inclined than Carew and his taciturn servant, was not conducive184 to conversation. The air was still impregnated with drifting sand that sifted185 through to mouth and nostrils186 in spite of the close drawn187 cloaks, and the wind made speech difficult. And furthermore, Carew was succumbing188 to an intense and growing feeling of drowsiness189. He had not slept during the hour of the siesta at the oasis and he had been up the greater part of the previous night attending to one of Said’s followers who had taken an ugly toss from a stumbling camel. Suliman, his panic subsided190, had resumed his usual smooth gallop and his easy movements were sleep inducing. More than once Carew found his sand-rimmed eyes closing. It was Hosein who noticed the first indication that luck had favoured them and that they were on the right track for the village they had scarcely thought to find. A clump191 of withered192 palms clustered beside a broken well that had been dry for years. Carew recognised the mournful little spot with a half-somnolent feeling of detachment and nodded sleepily in response to his servant’s exclamation. And it was again Hosein who made the further discovery that drew from him a second exclamation that effectually banished193 his master’s drowsiness.
Almost hidden by the palm trees and the crumbling194 masonry195 of the well, two riderless horses stood with dejected, down-drooping heads, ridden to a standstill apparently for even Suliman’s angry squeal196 failed to attract their attention. Motionless like creatures of bronze, their backs to the driving sand, their dangling197 bridles198 flapping in the wind, there was something singularly forlorn in their attitude. At sight of them Carew scowled200 in momentary indecision. He had no wish to be hampered201 with the care of two spent horses, but it was not a night to pass even an animal in distress202. With a word to Hosein, he swung Suliman towards the little dead oasis. The weary beasts took no notice of their approach and did not move as Carew drew rein125 beside them. A quick glance about him and he slid suddenly out of the saddle. Near by lay an Arab, face downwards203 on the ground, and a few steps away a powerfully built European sat with his back propped205 against the broken wall of the well nursing a heavy riding whip across his knees. His head was sunk between his shoulders, his face hidden by the wide brim of the helmet pulled low on his forehead. Rain-drenched and spattered with mud and sand that caked his once immaculate boots and clung closely to the rough surface of his tweed coat, he presented a sorry spectacle, but his plight206 had evidently not impaired207 his power of speech for there came from his lips a steady flow of uninterrupted blasphemy208 that sounded oddly in such a place and at such a time.
Carew was no purist himself, but the unnecessary foulness209 of the words that assailed210 his ears roused in him a feeling of disgust and he turned abruptly to the prostrate211 Arab who seemed in more immediate need of attention. But as he touched him the man rolled from under his hands and stumbling to his feet, shrank away with upraised arm as though to ward9 off a blow. His eyes were dazed but mingling212 with the pain in them there was a look of deep hatred, and his bruised213 and bleeding mouth told their own tale. The individual by the well was evidently a hard hitter as well as a hard swearer. To Carew, the sullen, twitching214 features were vaguely215 familiar and it was obvious, when after a few moments the Arab collected himself sufficiently216 to speak, that he himself was recognised. But he could not place him and the name that was reluctantly vouchsafed217 conveyed nothing—he knew dozens of Arabs with the same designation. More he could not ask. Whatever were his feelings on the subject he could not interfere106 between master and servant. But his expression was not pleasant and he was conscious of a rising anger as he swung on his heel to go back to the well. He did not reach it. With slow clenching218 hands he stood where he had turned staring at the man who was leisurely219 coming towards him—the man he had been trying to avoid since the night, weeks ago, of the opera. The sodden220 helmet was pushed back revealing clearly, even in the dim light, the blotched, dissipated looking face that had stirred him to so strange and deadly a hatred. And now, in their close proximity221, that strange hatred seemed to increase a thousandfold and it was all Carew could do to preserve semblance222 of passivity and conceal223 the boiling rage that filled him. It was like nothing he had ever experienced in his life before. As on that night in Algiers it was sweeping224 him with a force that was beyond all reason, all explanation. He could not explain it. He could not conquer it. He could only hope to retain the self-command that seemed perilously225 near to breaking point, for again the same appalling226 desire to kill was pouring over him. Aghast at the horrible impulse that was almost more than he could resist he thrust his hands behind him to keep them from the weapon that lay hidden in the folds of his waistcloth. And completely oblivious227 of the storm of passion his presence had evoked228, Geradine strode up to him with the swaggering gait and overbearing demeanour that characterised him always, but which was especially notable in his dealings with any native, irrespective of rank. A native to him was a native, an inferior creature little better than the beasts of the field, to be dominated by fear and kept in his place. He stood now, his legs planted widely apart, slapping his boot with his riding whip, surveying Carew through insolent230 half-closed eyes.
“Look here—” he began, his tone a mixture of truculence231 and arrogant232 condescension233. “I’m in the devil of a mess. Came out from Biskra for a day or two’s camping—missed my people in this infernal sandstorm—all the fault of that fool there. What’ll you take to get me out of this bally graveyard234? My beasts are knocked up—yours look pretty fresh. Name your price, and for heaven’s sake get a move on, I—oh, damn!” he broke off with a petulant235 shrug of annoyance236 as Carew continued to stare at him with a purposely blank face that was neither helpful nor encouraging. For a few moments, imagining himself to be not understood, he glared wrathfully at the supposed Arab, favouring him with a string of personal epithets238 that were neither complimentary239 nor parliamentary. And with contemptuous indifference Carew let him curse. If Geradine had accepted him as an Arab, an Arab he would remain—but not an Arab to be either browbeaten240 or bribed241. He was not in a mood to make things easier for the blustering bully242 who was working himself up into a state of childish rage. He could alter his tone if he wanted assistance. Nor at the moment was Carew very certain that his assistance would be forthcoming. Why should he go out of his way to help a man he hated! To be left in the predicament in which he was would be a salutary experience that might have a chastening effect on one who was obviously unused to opposition243 or discomfort in any shape or form. A few privations would do him no harm. And if he died in the desert, which was not in the least likely, his death would probably be a source of relief rather than grief to his friends and relations. Quite suddenly Carew thought of the wife of the man who was facing him. She certainly, if all reports were true, would have no cause to lament244 a husband she evidently went in dread245 of. But what was that to him! A surge of anger went through him as his down-bent eyes swept upward to meet the insolent stare fixed on him. The foul-mouthed brute246! God, how he hated him! Almost unconsciously he moved a step forward, and there was something menacing in his expression that checked Geradine’s flow of language.
With a shade more civility in his tongue he began to repeat his demand in halting French that was scarcely comprehensible. And with typical Arab aloofness247 Carew waited for him to come to the end of his stumbling explanations. But it was not on his account that he listened to him. It was the need of the wretched servant and the two exhausted248 horses that swayed him and moved him finally to a reluctant decision.
With a cold word of assent249, and a curt250 gesture that sent the quick blood rushing to the other’s face, he turned haughtily251 as though from an inferior and walked back to the horses, leaving Geradine to stare after him spluttering with rage, twisting and bending the pliable252 whip between his coarse hands, in two minds whether to follow him or not. Curse the dam’ nigger and his infernal cheek, looking at him as if he were dirt! A bit above himself, that chap. That’s what came of treating natives as the French did—equality, fraternity and the rest of it, by Gad253! A rotten country! Who did the supercilious254 beggar think he was talking to, anyhow? A silly tourist to be impressed by his dam’ airs of superiority? He was hanged if he would stick impudence255 from any Arab. Coming the free son of the desert over him, was he? The blighter could go to blazes, and his horses too for that matter. He’d not truckle to any eternally condemned son of a—But a freshening gust of wind that, sand laden256, whipped against his cheek with unpleasant suggestiveness cut short his muttered imprecations and quashed his half-formed intention of revoking257 his demand for assistance and relying on himself to get out of an uncomfortable situation he was convinced was due entirely to the muddle-headedness of his servant. Curse the fool—there hadn’t been a job yet that he hadn’t mucked up! Recommended for his capabilities258, by jove! A well-trained valet and an efficient dragoman, was he? He’d be a bit more trained and efficient when his present employer was done with him. There was only one way of dealing229 with cattle of that kind, and Malec wouldn’t be the first nigger he’d licked into shape, not by a long way. But Malec could wait—he could deal with him later.
With a snarl259 that boded260 little good for the unfortunate valet Geradine went with no show of haste to join the group of men and horses by the well-head. Carew was already mounted, wrestling with Suliman who was backing and rearing impatiently. He swung him round as the Viscount approached.
“You can ride my servant’s horse,” he said in French, “yours can hardly carry themselves. The men will have to walk.”
With a grunt261 which was certainly not an expression of courtesy Geradine took the bridle199 Hosein offered him and climbed stiffly into the saddle. His drenched condition and his resentment at the authoritative262 tone addressed to him did not tend to improve either his manners or his temper, and with characteristic pettiness he vented263 his ill-humour on the object nearest at hand. The horse that had been lent to him was plunging264 in furious protest at the raking spurs that were being used with unnecessary violence and, losing command of himself, he slashed265 savagely266 at the little shapely head with his whip. Twice the heavy thong267 rose and fell, then a hand like steel closed on his wrist and it was wrenched268 from him. And, turning with an oath, he found himself confronted by a pair of blazing eyes in which he read not only rage but a totally unexpected hatred that sent an odd sensation of cold rippling269 down his spine270. He flinched271 involuntarily, dragging his horse aside, conscious for the first time in his life of a feeling of fear. But the strange look that had startled him was gone in a flash and Carew’s face was impassive as he reined272 his own horse back. “Your pardon, monsieur, he is unused to a whip,” he said icily, and sent the offending weapon spinning into the mouth of the empty well where it fell beyond recovery. Speechless with fury Geradine glared at him, and then, his French too limited to adequately express his feelings, let out a string of curses in his own language which would have given him more pleasure had he known them to be understood. But his hands were fully204 occupied with the enraged273 mount and Carew had already ridden on. It was blowing again steadily. Carew, sure now of his bearings, was heading more to the east and the swirling sand was driving straight at them. Muffled274 in his burnous, his face shielded somewhat by the close drawn haick, he felt it less than Geradine did. But he had no sympathy to waste on the huddled figure behind them with the exhausted horses. For them he was glad that the village lay only a bare three miles away. And even three miles, over rough uneven275 ground and against a strong wind, was a sufficiently tedious tramp for men unused to walking and hampered by two jaded276 beasts who required constant encouragement to induce them to move at all. Progress was necessarily slow and more than once Geradine, impatient of the snail’s pace at which they were proceeding277, let out his fretting278 horse and dashed on ahead. But ignorant of the way and not relishing279 the prospect of losing sight of his companions in the growing darkness he was forced each time to curb280 his impetuosity and wait for the others to come up with him.
For a time he kept silence, but at last his annoyance found utterance281. “See here,” he exploded angrily, as Carew for the fifth time ranged alongside without seeming to notice the temporary separation, “this isn’t a bally funeral! For heaven’s sake push on a bit.” And as Carew turned to him with an indifferent “Plait-il?” he lost his temper completely. “Plus vite, you silly ass,” he bellowed282. “Pas un cortège, n’est-ce-pas—confound you!”
For a moment Carew hesitated, his own temper rising dangerously. Then he shrugged283 and raising his hand pointed284 behind him. “The men are walking,” he said shortly, and wondered how long it would be before he was goaded285 into retaliation286. To profess146 ignorance of his mother tongue was easy, to sit quietly under a storm of abuse and personal epithets was rather more difficult. But he had brought it on himself, he had allowed Geradine to think him an Arab and an Arab he would have to remain. To tardily287 admit his nationality was impossible, it would only make Geradine feel that he had been made a fool of and might probably lead to a quarrel that could easily end disastrously288. As it was, his mere presence was almost more than Carew could endure. He had kept a firm hold over himself so far but he knew that a very little more would shatter his self-control. He had voluntarily decided289 on a certain line of action and he would have to go on with it, if only for the sake of the wretched Arab. Left in the lurch5, Geradine would undoubtedly290 wreck291 his wrath237 on the servant who had been already sufficiently manhandled. And again Carew racked his brains to recollect292 where he had seen the man before. He rarely forgot faces and now, for want of something better to engage his attention, he set himself to discover why the dimly remembered features were familiar. It flashed across him at length. De Granier’s man—taken on with the villa111, probably, poor devil. A fairly recent addition to the Frenchman’s household, Malec had made no very definite impression on the guest he had served but once. But having identified him Carew, casting back in his mind, remembered that de Granier had spoken of him as a curious character, responding to kindness, but sullen when corrected and quick to take offence.
The change from the easy-going Frenchman to service with a brute like Geradine must have been great, and Carew wondered suddenly what induced him to remain with a master he obviously hated. High wages—or a more sinister293 purpose?—He checked himself abruptly. He would be doing murder by proxy294, and rather enjoying it, if he let his thoughts race in this fashion. His own incomprehensible hatred was deep enough without allowing himself to dwell on another’s grievances295. And for him there was not even the excuse of a grievance. For no reason or cause whatsoever296 he had hated Geradine at sight. With a shrug of perplexity he drew his cloak closer round him and shook the stinging sand from his bridle hand.
The wind was gathering in force every minute and the light fading rapidly. If it failed entirely and they missed the little village in the darkness there was no other shelter available and Carew did not welcome the thought of a night spent in the open with his present company. At this slow pace the way seemed more like thirty miles than three. But he could not increase it. Even kept to a walk, the horses had outpaced the men and they were some distance behind. Deaf to Geradine’s snarl of protest, Carew pulled up and waited until Hosein was alongside of him. And as the man’s hand touched his stirrup the storm broke again with redoubled fury and a tearing gust enveloped them in a cloud of blinding sand. For a few moments the horses became almost unmanageable, wheeling backs to the storm and crowding together in a plunging, kicking bunch. They were pulled apart at last and the little party struggled on in the teeth of the wind, choked with the driving particles and straining their eyes through the gloom.
And complete darkness had fallen before they stumbled upon the squalid little collection of mud huts that formed the village. Tenantless297, it seemed at first, for no lights shone from the tiny barred windows that were blocked with rags to keep out the drifting sand. But Hosein, despatched in quest of the headman, returned shortly with an elderly Arab who, shrouded298 in a multitude of filthy299 coverings, salaamed300 obsequiously301 in answer to Carew’s shouted enquiry and led them to a hut a little distance away.
Only a hovel it was, but sheltering an amazingly large family—vague, shadowy figures, sexless in their close drawn draperies, who shrank from the vicinity of the strangers and slipped away stealthily into the night with heads bent low and shoulders hunched302 against the sweeping wind as the headman routed them out unceremoniously to give place to the unexpected visitors. One room, the further portion screened for the use of the women of the family, and indescribably dirty and comfortless. It was nothing new to Carew, use had accustomed him to even greater squalor than this, but Geradine’s disgust was evident as he stared about him with curling lip, spitting the sand from his mouth and shaking it from his clothing. Wet and angry, and in no mood to be further inconvenienced, the sight of the horses vigorously propelled into the hut through the narrow entrance moved him to noisy expostulation. With frequent and profanatory lapses303 into English he managed to convey his total disapproval304 of the shelter provided for him, which he described as unfit even for pigs, and wrathfully announced his disinclination to share the limited accommodation with “those dam’ brutes”—horses and men-servants grouped impartially305. His own tired beasts stood shivering and listless but Suliman and Hosein’s horses were nervous of their surroundings and for a short space pandemonium306 reigned307 in the hut and his remonstrances308 passed unheeded. When he could hear himself speak again he reiterated309 his demands loudly. But Carew, who was stooping to unloosen Suliman’s girths, waved an indifferent hand towards the door and intimated sharply that if he preferred the sandstorm he was at liberty to remove himself, but that as far as he—Carew—was concerned men and horses remained where they were until the weather conditions improved.
Unused to opposition, and too selfish to think of anything but his own comfort, the flat refusal was all that was needed to stir Geradine’s smouldering rage to a white heat of fury. An ugly look swept across his lowering face and he started forward with a threatening gesture. And for a few seconds it seemed as if the open quarrel Carew had feared was now inevitable310. Tired and on edge, goaded by the other’s insolence311 and overbearing manner, driven by his own hatred, nothing would have given him greater pleasure than to respond to the provocation312 offered him. Every instinct urged him to retaliate. He had done already all that could be humanly expected of him, and for two hours he had borne patiently with insults and abuse. He had done enough, and now his patience had reached its limit. And it was Geradine, not he, who was forcing the quarrel. Then why not give him what he asked for? By every means in his power he had tried to avoid him—and fate had thrust them together. Carew’s heart beat with a fierce exultant313 throb314, and the atmosphere of the little room seemed suddenly to become electric—alive with naked passions—as the two men stared into each other’s eyes. Behind them the Arabs, sensitive of the tension, were watching intently, and Hosein was edging nearer to his master, his hand stealing to the knife in his belt. Then with a tremendous effort Carew thrust from him the temptation to which he had almost succumbed315 and swinging on his heel without a word turned back to his horse. And checked, despite himself, by a silence he did not understand, Geradine made no further protest, but fell back with an inarticulate growl and crossing the room, dropped down heavily on the cleanest spot he could find, as far removed from the others as possible.
Lighting316 a cigar with difficulty, for his matches were wet, he smoked sulkily until the horses were unsaddled. Then fumbling317 in the pocket of his sodden coat he produced a good-sized flask318 and, gulping319 down the remaining contents, shouted to the sullen-faced Arab—who was leaning moodily320 against the wall beside the steaming horses—to bring him more brandy. Apathetically321, the man unstrapped the leathern holster from his master’s saddle. And, following him, Carew saw the savage kick aimed at him as Geradine snatched the second flask from his outstretched hand. To the multifarious odours that filled the little room was added the reek322 of raw spirit for the Viscount, whose hand was shaking, spilled as much as he drank of the undiluted cognac with which he sought to quench323 an unquenchable thirst. Even so, added to what he had previously324 taken, the allowance was a generous one. But, beyond deepening the colour in his already congested face and further dissatisfying him with his environment, it seemed to make no difference to him for he cursed as fluently and as intelligibly325 as before as he shivered closer into the corner where he was sitting in a vain attempt to avoid the sweeping draughts326 that whistled through innumerable cracks in the broken, mud walls of the hut.
With growing hatred and disgust Carew listened to the uninterrupted flow of filthy language, wishing passionately that Geradine’s hand had been steadier. Dead drunk he would at least have been silent. Half tipsy and vituperative327 he was intolerable. Was this what the girl listened to day after day and night after night—Carew flung his wet cloak back with an angry jerk, scowling328 at the sudden thought. It was no business of his, no business of his, he whispered doggedly329 as he searched for a cigarette. No business of his—but remembrance, stimulated330, was easier than forgetfulness and for long he stared sombrely at the wreathing clouds of faint blue smoke that, curling upward in fantastic spirals, seemed to frame the exquisite331 oval of a pale, pure face. When at last, by sheer strength of will, he forced his mind back to the immediate present, Geradine’s grumbling332 had ceased and he seemed to be asleep. The men, too, were dozing333, though Hosein’s hand moved mechanically each time the restless Suliman stamped. The room was perceptibly darker, and looking for the cause, Carew saw that one of the two little earthenware334 lamps left by the routed family had burnt out and the other was flickering335 feebly. He wondered if he also had been asleep. And listening for the gusts of wind that before had shaken the crumbling building he realised that the storm had passed. The atmosphere was stifling336, and going to the door he wrenched it open and went out into the night. There the change was almost magical. Swept clean, the heavens were blazing with stars and the desert lay calm and still in the soft, clear light of a rising moon whose slanting337 beams shone silver on the sand. A peace and silence that was gripping. To Carew, still seething with the hatred that a little while since had almost mastered him, the marvellous beauty of the night was like the touch of a healing hand and, watching it, for a time he forgot even Geradine.
Behind him the tiny collection of huts straggled dark and mysterious in the deep shadow of a great bare rock that, stark338 and solitary, rose out of the level plain at some distance from the chain of mountains to which it properly belonged. But he did not look at the sleeping village. It was the desert that held him—the desert that with its silent voice was whispering, enticing339, as so often it had whispered and enticed340 before, drawing him with the glamour341 of its hidden secrets. Caressingly his eyes swept the moonlit plain. He was one with it now, a nomad342 for all time. More than the stately house in England, more than the miniature palace in Algiers, it was his home. For ten years he had lived in it. For ten years, seeking to cure his own hurt, he had tried to bring relief to others, fighting misery343 and disease, appalled344 by the magnitude of his task and seeming to have accomplished345 so little. But even the little was worth while. By even the little he was repaid. His toil346 had not been altogether in vain. By God’s grace he had been enabled to do something, and by God’s grace he would do still more. In the deep stillness of the eastern night the sense of the Divine Presence was very near and, in all humbleness347, Carew prayed from his heart for strength to continue the work that had become his life.
As he arose from his knees Hosein came to him, uneasy at his absence and the unwilling348 bearer of a message.
“The English lord is hungry,” he announced briefly349, with patent scorn in his voice that Carew affected350 not to hear. The situation was already sufficiently difficult without having to reprove his servant for a lapse102 that was due entirely to Geradine’s own behaviour.
With a last glance at the shining stars he went reluctantly back to the hut.
Half hidden in a haze of cigar smoke and aggressively wide awake Geradine hailed his appearance with no more civility than before.
“Clear out those cursed beasts,” he shouted truculently351. “I can’t sleep in a damned stable! And get me something to eat. Something—to—eat. Quelque chose à manger, comprenez?—you blasted fool!” he added, pantomiming vigorously. The blood rolled in a dark wave to Carew’s face but determined352 to keep his temper he swallowed the retort that sprang to his lips and gave the required orders with apparent unconcern. But he smiled inwardly as he watched the men lead the horses away. It was very doubtful whether food of any kind would be procurable353 at this time of night, and even if Hosein’s endeavours met with success it was not likely that Geradine would appreciate the rough fare of the necessitous little village. Nor, he was convinced, would the handful of crushed dates he carried in his waistcloth prove any more acceptable.
And when at length Hosein returned with a bowl of curdled354 camel’s milk he was not surprised that the Viscount, after one glance of mingled355 dismay and repugnance356, rejected both it and the unsavoury looking little mass of sand covered fruit with a disgusted “Lord, what beastly muck!” and retired into his corner with his hunger unsatisfied to curse himself to sleep. He was still sleeping heavily when Carew woke with the dawn and went out to find Hosein and the horses and make arrangements for Geradine’s return to Biskra. It was not his intention that they should ride together. His sole desire was to get away as quickly as possible from the vicinity of the man he hated more vehemently357 than ever.
Last night he had controlled himself only by a super-human effort. This morning he felt he could no longer trust himself. To escape the leave taking that was otherwise unavoidable he did not go back to the hut when, an hour later, he was ready for the road and had concluded his interview with Malec and the headman of the village.
But as his foot was in the stirrup Geradine appeared, yawning sleepily, and swinging his arms to get the stiffness out of them. Having wakened for once without his customary morning headache he was in a better temper than usual. Apparently oblivious of his incivility of the previous evening he lounged forward with an air of condescending358 geniality359, prepared evidently to make himself agreeable. His shouted greeting terminated in a loud laugh as he glanced at Carew, clean shaven and immaculate as Hosein always contrived360 he should be, and then at his own soiled clothing.
“You look smart enough, by Gad,” he said, fingering his rough chin tenderly, “where the devil do you find water and a razor in this filthy little hole? You’re off early—what’s your hurry? Oh, damn it, I forgot you can’t speak English. Well, never mind, you’re a sportsman whatever you are. I’d have been in the soup last night if you hadn’t come along. Many thanks—dash it, I mean très obligé, mille remerciments—and all the rest of it, don’t you know.” And with another laugh he thrust out his hand.
But incited361 by the gentle pressure of his rider’s heel Suliman plunged362 wildly and shot away leaving Geradine with his arm still outstretched, half annoyed and half amused at Carew’s abrupt100 departure.
Proud as Lucifer, like every other potty little chief he had ever met—but the beggar could ride, he reflected as he stood looking after the galloping horsemen, and the man he had with him was worth a dozen of the fool he was landed with. And yawning again he turned back to the hut and roared for the fool in question.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
oasis
|
|
| n.（沙漠中的）绿洲，宜人的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
debris
|
|
| n.瓦砾堆，废墟，碎片 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
caravan
|
|
| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
lurch
|
|
| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
dribbling
|
|
| n.（燃料或油从系统内）漏泄v.流口水( dribble的现在分词 )；（使液体）滴下或作细流；运球，带球 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
ward
|
|
| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
disturbance
|
|
| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
tempted
|
|
| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
muster
|
|
| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
tune
|
|
| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
distraction
|
|
| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
partially
|
|
| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
beset
|
|
| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
overflowing
|
|
| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
blustering
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
inexplicable
|
|
| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
racing
|
|
| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
inclination
|
|
| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
inclinations
|
|
| 倾向( inclination的名词复数 )； 倾斜； 爱好； 斜坡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
musingly
|
|
| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
25
siesta
|
|
| n.午睡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
bustle
|
|
| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
despatch
|
|
| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
spat
|
|
| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
haphazard
|
|
| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
extraordinarily
|
|
| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
paramount
|
|
| a.最重要的，最高权力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
intriguing
|
|
| adj.有趣的；迷人的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的现在分词)；激起…的好奇心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
adherent
|
|
| n.信徒，追随者，拥护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
aspirations
|
|
| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
regiment
|
|
| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
censure
|
|
| v./n.责备；非难；责难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
severed
|
|
| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
zeal
|
|
| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
adherence
|
|
| n.信奉，依附，坚持，固着 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
irony
|
|
| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
conclusively
|
|
| adv.令人信服地，确凿地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
loyalty
|
|
| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
condemned
|
|
| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
superseded
|
|
| [医]被代替的，废弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
reconciliation
|
|
| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
aloof
|
|
| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
strictly
|
|
| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
consolation
|
|
| n.安慰，慰问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
conspicuous
|
|
| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
fraught
|
|
| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
philosophical
|
|
| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
longings
|
|
| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
vernacular
|
|
| adj.地方的，用地方语写成的；n.白话；行话；本国语；动植物的俗名 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
ingrate
|
|
| n.忘恩负义的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
vile
|
|
| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
contemptible
|
|
| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
ministry
|
|
| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
avenge
|
|
| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
spurning
|
|
| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
detested
|
|
| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
loathe
|
|
| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
garbled
|
|
| adj.（指信息）混乱的，引起误解的v.对（事实）歪曲，对（文章等）断章取义，窜改( garble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
leniency
|
|
| n.宽大（不严厉） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
curry
|
|
| n.咖哩粉，咖哩饭菜；v.用咖哩粉调味，用马栉梳，制革 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
scapegoat
|
|
| n.替罪的羔羊，替人顶罪者；v.使…成为替罪羊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
retaliate
|
|
| v.报复，反击 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
seething
|
|
| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
injustice
|
|
| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
undone
|
|
| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
grievance
|
|
| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
followers
|
|
| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
passionately
|
|
| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
growl
|
|
| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
etiquette
|
|
| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
shrug
|
|
| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
sullen
|
|
| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
boundless
|
|
| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
rigid
|
|
| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
abrupt
|
|
| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
overtures
|
|
| n.主动的表示，提议；（向某人做出的）友好表示、姿态或提议( overture的名词复数 )；（歌剧、芭蕾舞、音乐剧等的）序曲，前奏曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
lapse
|
|
| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
embittered
|
|
| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
interfered
|
|
| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
gratuitous
|
|
| adj.无偿的，免费的；无缘无故的，不必要的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
chary
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，细心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
covertly
|
|
| adv.偷偷摸摸地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
villa
|
|
| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
suffocating
|
|
| a.使人窒息的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
shimmering
|
|
| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
haze
|
|
| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
eddied
|
|
| 起漩涡，旋转( eddy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
writhe
|
|
| vt.挣扎，痛苦地扭曲；vi.扭曲，翻腾，受苦；n.翻腾，苦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
dormant
|
|
| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
exclamation
|
|
| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
swirl
|
|
| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
caressingly
|
|
| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
rein
|
|
| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
reins
|
|
| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
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： |
|
|
|
|
129
stagnant
|
|
| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
foam
|
|
| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
jaws
|
|
| n.口部；嘴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
flakes
|
|
| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
gallop
|
|
| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
galloping
|
|
| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
civilized
|
|
| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
temperate
|
|
| adj.温和的，温带的，自我克制的，不过分的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
loathed
|
|
| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
rigidly
|
|
| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
marvel
|
|
| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
sumptuousness
|
|
| 奢侈，豪华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
lavish
|
|
| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
generosity
|
|
| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
yearning
|
|
| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
peal
|
|
| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
professed
|
|
| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
profess
|
|
| v.声称，冒称，以...为业，正式接受入教，表明信仰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
gust
|
|
| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
scorching
|
|
| adj. 灼热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
reverberating
|
|
| 回响，回荡( reverberate的现在分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
rattling
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
artillery
|
|
| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
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： |
|
|
|
|
153
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
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： |
|
|
|
|
155
prospects
|
|
| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
vagaries
|
|
| n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 )；异想天开；异常行为；难以预测的情况 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
discomfort
|
|
| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
inevitably
|
|
| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
tangible
|
|
| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
deafening
|
|
| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
tightening
|
|
| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
soothing
|
|
| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
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： |
|
|
|
|
164
whining
|
|
| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
swirling
|
|
| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
crouched
|
|
| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
obliterated
|
|
| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
abated
|
|
| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
landmark
|
|
| n.陆标，划时代的事，地界标 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
penetrating
|
|
| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
tingling
|
|
| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
pricking
|
|
| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
ribs
|
|
| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
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： |
|
|
|
|
177
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
exult
|
|
| v.狂喜，欢腾；欢欣鼓舞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
strenuous
|
|
| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
alluring
|
|
| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
lessened
|
|
| 减少的，减弱的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
lull
|
|
| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
huddled
|
|
| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
conducive
|
|
| adj.有益的，有助的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
sifted
|
|
| v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
nostrils
|
|
| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
succumbing
|
|
| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的现在分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
drowsiness
|
|
| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
subsided
|
|
| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；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： |
|
|
|
|
191
clump
|
|
| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
withered
|
|
| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
banished
|
|
| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
crumbling
|
|
| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
masonry
|
|
| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
squeal
|
|
| v.发出长而尖的声音；n.长而尖的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
dangling
|
|
| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
bridles
|
|
| 约束( bridle的名词复数 )； 限动器； 马笼头； 系带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
bridle
|
|
| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
scowled
|
|
| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
hampered
|
|
| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
downwards
|
|
| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
205
propped
|
|
| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
206
plight
|
|
| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
impaired
|
|
| adj.受损的；出毛病的；有（身体或智力）缺陷的v.损害，削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
blasphemy
|
|
| n.亵渎，渎神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
foulness
|
|
| n. 纠缠, 卑鄙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
assailed
|
|
| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
prostrate
|
|
| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
mingling
|
|
| adj.混合的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
bruised
|
|
| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
twitching
|
|
| n.颤搐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
vouchsafed
|
|
| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
clenching
|
|
| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
leisurely
|
|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
sodden
|
|
| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
221
proximity
|
|
| n.接近，邻近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
222
semblance
|
|
| n.外貌，外表 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
223
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
224
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
225
perilously
|
|
| adv.充满危险地，危机四伏地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
226
appalling
|
|
| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
227
oblivious
|
|
| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
228
evoked
|
|
| [医]诱发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
229
dealing
|
|
| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
230
insolent
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
231
truculence
|
|
| n.凶猛，粗暴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
232
arrogant
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
233
condescension
|
|
| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
234
graveyard
|
|
| n.坟场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
235
petulant
|
|
| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
236
annoyance
|
|
| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
237
wrath
|
|
| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
238
epithets
|
|
| n.（表示性质、特征等的）词语( epithet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
239
complimentary
|
|
| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
240
browbeaten
|
|
| v.（以言辞或表情）威逼，恫吓( browbeat的过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
241
bribed
|
|
| v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
242
bully
|
|
| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
243
opposition
|
|
| n.反对，敌对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
244
lament
|
|
| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
245
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
246
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
247
aloofness
|
|
| 超然态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
248
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
249
assent
|
|
| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
250
curt
|
|
| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
251
haughtily
|
|
| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
252
pliable
|
|
| adj.易受影响的；易弯的；柔顺的，易驾驭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
253
gad
|
|
| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
254
supercilious
|
|
| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
255
impudence
|
|
| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
256
laden
|
|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
257
revoking
|
|
| v.撤销，取消，废除( revoke的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
258
capabilities
|
|
| n.能力( capability的名词复数 )；可能；容量；[复数]潜在能力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
259
snarl
|
|
| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
260
boded
|
|
| v.预示，预告，预言( bode的过去式和过去分词 )；等待，停留( bide的过去分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
261
grunt
|
|
| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
262
authoritative
|
|
| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
263
vented
|
|
| 表达，发泄（感情，尤指愤怒）( vent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
264
plunging
|
|
| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
265
slashed
|
|
| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
266
savagely
|
|
| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
267
thong
|
|
| n.皮带；皮鞭；v.装皮带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
268
wrenched
|
|
| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
269
rippling
|
|
| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
270
spine
|
|
| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
271
flinched
|
|
| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
272
reined
|
|
| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
273
enraged
|
|
| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
274
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： |
|
|
|
|
275
uneven
|
|
| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
276
jaded
|
|
| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
277
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
278
fretting
|
|
| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
279
relishing
|
|
| v.欣赏( relish的现在分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
280
curb
|
|
| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
281
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
282
bellowed
|
|
| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
283
shrugged
|
|
| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
284
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
285
goaded
|
|
| v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
286
retaliation
|
|
| n.报复，反击 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
287
tardily
|
|
| adv.缓慢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
288
disastrously
|
|
| ad.灾难性地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
289
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
290
undoubtedly
|
|
| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
291
wreck
|
|
| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
292
recollect
|
|
| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
293
sinister
|
|
| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
294
proxy
|
|
| n.代理权，代表权；（对代理人的）委托书；代理人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
295
grievances
|
|
| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
296
whatsoever
|
|
| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
297
tenantless
|
|
| adj.无人租赁的，无人居住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
298
shrouded
|
|
| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
299
filthy
|
|
| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
300
salaamed
|
|
| 行额手礼( salaam的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
301
obsequiously
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
302
hunched
|
|
| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
303
lapses
|
|
| n.失误，过失( lapse的名词复数 )；小毛病；行为失检；偏离正道v.退步( lapse的第三人称单数 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
304
disapproval
|
|
| n.反对，不赞成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
305
impartially
|
|
| adv.公平地，无私地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
306
pandemonium
|
|
| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
307
reigned
|
|
| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
308
remonstrances
|
|
| n.抱怨，抗议( remonstrance的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
309
reiterated
|
|
| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
310
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
311
insolence
|
|
| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
312
provocation
|
|
| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
313
exultant
|
|
| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
314
throb
|
|
| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
315
succumbed
|
|
| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
316
lighting
|
|
| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
317
fumbling
|
|
| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
318
flask
|
|
| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
319
gulping
|
|
| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的现在分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
320
moodily
|
|
| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
321
apathetically
|
|
| adv.不露感情地；无动于衷地；不感兴趣地；冷淡地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
322
reek
|
|
| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
323
quench
|
|
| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
324
previously
|
|
| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
325
intelligibly
|
|
| adv.可理解地，明了地，清晰地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
326
draughts
|
|
| n. <英>国际跳棋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
327
vituperative
|
|
| adj.谩骂的；斥责的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
328
scowling
|
|
| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
329
doggedly
|
|
| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
330
stimulated
|
|
| a.刺激的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
331
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
332
grumbling
|
|
| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
333
dozing
|
|
| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
334
earthenware
|
|
| n.土器，陶器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
335
flickering
|
|
| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
336
stifling
|
|
| a.令人窒息的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
337
slanting
|
|
| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
338
stark
|
|
| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
339
enticing
|
|
| adj.迷人的；诱人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
340
enticed
|
|
| 诱惑，怂恿( entice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
341
glamour
|
|
| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
342
nomad
|
|
| n.游牧部落的人，流浪者，游牧民 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
343
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
344
appalled
|
|
| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
345
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
346
toil
|
|
| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
347
humbleness
|
|
| n.谦卑，谦逊；恭顺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
348
unwilling
|
|
| adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
349
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
350
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
351
truculently
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
352
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
353
procurable
|
|
| adj.可得到的，得手的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
354
curdled
|
|
| v.（使）凝结( curdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
355
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： |
|
|
|
|
356
repugnance
|
|
| n.嫌恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
357
vehemently
|
|
| adv. 热烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
358
condescending
|
|
| adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
359
geniality
|
|
| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
360
contrived
|
|
| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
361
incited
|
|
| 刺激，激励，煽动( incite的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
362
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |