“My friends,” he said, “in this beautiful little chapel, on this airy hilltop, one might, if anywhere, speak with complete honesty. For you who gather here for worship are, in the main, people of great affairs; accustomed to looking at life with high spirit and with quick imagination. I will ask you then to be patient with me while I exhort11 you to carry into your religion the same enterprising and ambitious gusto that has made your worldly careers a success. You are accustomed to deal with great affairs. Let me talk to you about the Great Affairs of God.”
Gissing had been far too agitated12 to be able to recognize any particular members of his audience. All the faces were fused into a common blur13. Miss Airedale, he knew, was in the organ loft14, but he had not seen her since his flight from Atlantic City, for he had removed from the Airedale mansion15 before her return, and had made himself a bed in the corner of the vestry-room. He feared she was angry: there had been a vigorous growling16 note in some of the bass17 pipes of the organ as she played the opening hymn18. He had not seen a tall white-haired figure who came into the chapel rather late, after the service had begun, and took a seat at the back. Bishop19 Borzoi had seized the opportunity to drive out to Dalmatian Heights this morning to see how his protege was getting on. When the Bishop saw his lay reader appear in surplice and scarlet20 hood21, he was startled. But when the amateur parson actually ascended22 the pulpit, the Bishop's face was a study. The hair on the back of his neck bristled23 slightly.
“It is so easy,” Gissing continued, “to let life go by us in its swift amusing course, that sometimes it hardly seems worth while to attempt any bold strokes for truth. Truth, of course, does not need our assistance; it can afford to ignore our errors. But in this quiet place, among the whisper of the trees, I seem to have heard a disconcerting sound. I have heard laughter, and I think it is the laughter of God.”
The congregation stirred a little, with polite uneasiness. This was not quite the sort of thing to which they were accustomed.
“Why should God laugh? I think it is because He sees that very often, when we pretend to be worshipping Him, we are really worshipping and gratifying ourselves. I used the phrase 'Great Affairs.' The point I want to make is that God deals with far greater affairs than we have realized. We have imagined Him on too petty a scale. If God is so great, we must approach Him in a spirit of greatness. He is not interested in trivialities—trivialities of ritual, of creed24, of ceremony. We have imagined a vain thing—a God of our own species; merely adding to the conception, to gild26 and consecrate27, a futile28 fuzbuz of supernaturalism. My friends, the God I imagine is something more than a formula on Sundays and an oath during the week.”
Those sitting in the rear of the Chapel were startled to hear a low rumbling29 sound proceeding30 from the diaphragm of the Bishop, who half rose from his seat and then, by a great effort of will, contained himself. But Gissing, rapt in his honourable31 speculations32, continued with growing happiness.
“I ask you, though probably in vain, to lay aside for the moment your inherited timidities and conventions. I ask you to lay aside pride, which is the devil itself and the cause of most unhappiness. I ask you to rise to the height of a great conception. To 'magnify' God is a common phrase in our observances. Then let us truly magnify Him—not minify, as the theologians do. If God is anything more than a social fetich, then He must be so much more that He includes and explains everything. It may sound inconceivable to you, it may sound sacrilegious, but I suggest to you that it is even possible God may be a biped—”
The Bishop could restrain himself no longer. He rose with flaming eyes and stood in the aisle33. Mr. Airedale, Mr. Dobermann-Pinscher, and several other prominent members of the Church burst into threatening growls34. A wild bark and clamour broke from Mr. Towser, the Sunday School superintendent35, and his pupils, who sat in the little gallery over the door. And then, to Gissing's horror and amazement36, Mr. Poodle appeared from behind a pillar where he had been chafing37 unseen. In a fierce tenor38 voice shaken with indignation he cried:
“Heretic and hypocrite! Pay no attention to his abominable39 nonsense! He deserted40 his family to lead a life of pleasure!”
“Seize him!” cried the Bishop in a voice of thunder.
The church was now in an uproar41. A shrill42 yapping sounded among the choir43. Mrs. Airedale swooned; the Bishop's progress up the aisle was impeded44 by a number of ladies hastening for an exit. Old Mr. Dingo, the sexton, seized the bell-rope in the porch and set up a furious pealing45. Cries of rage mingled46 with hysterical47 howls from the ladies. Gissing, trembling with horror, surveyed the atrocious hubbub48. But it was high time to move, or his retreat would be cut off. He abandoned his manuscript and bounded down the pulpit stairs.
“Unfrock him!” yelled Mr. Poodle.
“He's never been frocked!” roared the Bishop.
“Impostor!” cried Mr. Airedale.
“Excommunicate him!” screamed Mr. Towser.
“Take him before the consistory!” shouted Mr. Poodle.
Gissing started toward the vestry door, but was delayed by the mass of scuffling choir-puppies who had seized this uncomprehended diversion as a chance to settle some scores of their own. The clamour was maddening. The Bishop leapt the chancel rail and was about to seize him when Miss Airedale, loyal to the last, interposed. She flung herself upon the Bishop.
“Run, run!” she cried. “They'll kill you!”
Gissing profited by this assistance. He pushed over the lectern upon Mr. Poodle, who was clutching at his surplice. He checked Mr. Airedale by hurling49 little Tommy Bull, one of the choir, bodily at him. Tommy's teeth fastened automatically upon Mr. Airedale's ear. The surplice, which Mr. Poodle was still holding, parted with a rip, and Gissing was free. With a yell of defiance50 he tore through the vestry and round behind the chapel.
He could not help pausing a moment to scan the amazing scene, which had been all Sabbath calm a few moments before. From the long line of motor cars parked outside the chapel incredible chauffeurs51 were leaping, hurrying to see what had happened. The shady grove52 shook with the hideous53 clamour of the bell, still wildly tolled54 by the frantic55 sexton. The sudden excitement had liberated56 private quarrels long decently repressed: in the porch Mrs. Retriever and Mrs. Dobermann-Pinscher were locked in combat. With a splintering crash one of the choir-pups came sailing through a stained-glass window, evidently thrown by some infuriated adult. He recognized the voice of Mr. Towser, raised in vigorous lamentation57. To judge by the sound, Mr. Towser's pupils had turned upon him and were giving him a bad time. Above all he could hear the clear war-cry of Miss Airedale and the embittered58 yells of Mr. Poodle. Then from the quaking edifice59 burst Bishop Borzoi, foaming60 with wrath61, his clothes much tattered62, and followed by Mr. Poodle, Mr. Airedale, and several others. They cast about for a moment, and then the Bishop saw him. With a joint63 halloo they launched toward him.
There was no time to lose. He fled down the shady path between the trees, but with a hopeless horror in his heart. He could not long outdistance such a runner as the Bishop, whose tremendous strides would surely overhaul64 him in the end. If only he had known how to drive a car, he might have commandeered one of the long row waiting by the gate. But he was no motorist. Miss Airedale could have saved him, in her racing65 roadster, but she had not emerged from the melee66 in the chapel. Perhaps the Bishop had bitten her. His blood warmed with anger.
It happened that they had been mending the county highways, and a large steam roller stood a few hundred feet down the road, drawn67 up beside the ditch. Gissing knew that it was customary to leave these engines with the fire banked and a gentle pressure of steam simmering in the boiler68. It was his only chance, and he seized it. But to his dismay, when he reached the machine, which lay just round a bend in the road, he found it shrouded69 with a huge tarpaulin70. However, this suggested a desperate chance. He whipped nimbly inside the covering and hid in the coal-box. Lying there, he heard the chase go panting by.
As soon as he dared, he climbed out, stripped off the canvas, and gazed at the bulky engine. It was one of those very tall and impressive rollers with a canopy71 over the top. The machinery72 was not complicated, and the ingenuity73 of desperation spurred him on. Hurriedly he opened the draughts74 in the fire-box, shook up the coals, and saw the needle begin to quiver on the pressure-gauge75. He experimented with one or two levers and handles. The first one he touched let off a loud scream from the whistle. Then he discovered the throttle76. He opened it a few notches77, cautiously. The ponderous78 machine, with a horrible clanking and grinding, began to move forward.
A steam roller may seem the least helpful of all vehicles in which to conduct an urgent flight; but Gissing's reasoning was sound. In the first place, no one would expect to find a hunted fugitive79 in this lumbering80, sluggish81 behemoth of the road. Secondly82, sitting perched high up in the driving saddle, right under the canopy, he was not easily seen by the casual passer-by. And thirdly, if the pursuit came to close grips, he was still in a strategic position. For this, the most versatile84 of all land-machines except the military tank, can move across fields, crash through underbrush, and travel in a hundred places that would stall a motor car. He rumbled85 off down the road somewhat exhilarated. He found the scarlet stole twisted round his neck, and tied it to one of the stanchions of the canopy as a flag of defiance. It was not long before he saw the posse of pursuit returning along the road, very hot and angry. He crunched86 along solemnly, busying himself to get up a strong head of steam. There they were, the Bishop, Mr. Poodle, Mr. Airedale, Mr. Dobermann-Pinscher, and Mr. Towser. Mr. Poodle was talking excitedly: the Bishop's tongue ran in and out over his gleaming teeth. He was not saying much, but his manner was full of deadly wrath. They paid no attention to the roller, and were about to pass it without even looking up, when Gissing, in a sudden fit of indignation, gave the wheel a quick twirl and turned his clumsy engine upon them. They escaped only by a hair's breadth from being flattened87 out like pastry88. Then the Bishop, looking up, recognized the renegade. With a cry of anger they all leaped at the roller.
But he was so high above them, they had no chance. He seized the coal-scoop and whanged Mr. Poodle across the skull89. The Bishop came dangerously near reaching him, but Gissing released a jet of scalding steam from an exhaust-cock, which gave the impetuous prelate much cause for grief. A lump of coal, accurately90 thrown, discouraged Mr. Airedale. Mr. Towser, attacking on the other side of the engine, managed to scramble91 up so high that he carried away the embroidered92 stole, but otherwise the fugitive had all the best of it. Mr. Dobermann-Pinscher burned his feet trying to climb up the side of the boiler. From the summit of his uncouth93 vehicle Gissing looked down undismayed.
“In a mere25 lay reader,” quoted Gissing, “a slight laxity is allowable. You had better go back and calm down the congregation, or they'll tear the chapel to bits. This kind of thing will have a very bad influence on church discipline.”
They shouted additional menace, but Gissing had already started his deafening95 machinery and could not hear what was said. He left them bickering96 by the roadside.
For fear of further pursuit, he turned off the highway a little beyond, and rumbled noisily down a rustic97 lane between high banks and hedges where sumac was turning red. Strangely enough, there was something very comforting about his enormous crawling contraption. It was docile98 and reliable, like an elephant. The crashing clangour of its movement was soon forgotten—became, in fact, an actual stimulus99 to thought. For the mere pleasure of novelty, he steered100 through a copse, and took joy in seeing the monster thrash its way through thickets101 and brambles, and then across a field of crackling stubble. Steering102 toward the lonelier regions of that farming country, presently he halted in a dingle of birches beside a small pond. He spent some time very happily, carefully studying the machinery. He found some waste and an oilcan in the tool-chest, and polished until the metal shone. The water looked rather low in the gauge, and he replenished103 it from the pool.
It was while grooming104 the roller that it struck him his own appearance was unusual for a highway mechanic. He was still wearing the famous floorwalker suit, which he had punctiliously105 donned every Sunday for chapel. But he had had to flee without a hat—even without his luggage, which was neatly106 packed in a bag in the vestry. That, he felt sure, Mr. Poodle had already burst open for evidences of heresy107 and schism108. The pearly trousers were stained with oil and coal-dust; the neat cutaway coat bore smears109 of engine-grease. As long as he stuck to the roller and the telltale garments, pursuit and identification would of course be easy enough. But he had taken a fancy to the machine: he decided110 not to abandon it yet.
Obviously it was better to keep to the roads, where the engine would at any rate be less surprisingly conspicuous111, and where it would leave no trail. So he made a long circuit across meadows and pastures, carrying a devilish clamour into the quiet Sunday afternoon. Regaining112 a macadam surface, he set oil at random113, causing considerable annoyance114 to the motoring public. Finding that his cutaway coat caused jeers115 and merriment, he removed it; and when any one showed a disposition116 to inquire, he explained that he was doing penance117 for an ill-judged wager118. His oscillating perch83 above the boiler was extraordinarily119 warm, and he bought a gallon jug120 of cider from a farmer by the way. Cheering himself with this, and reviewing in his mind the queer experiences of the past months, he went thundering mildly on.
At first he had feared a furious pursuit on the part of the Bishop, or even a whole college of bishops, quickly mobilized for the event. He had imagined them speeding after him in a huge motor-bus, and himself keeping them at bay with lumps of coal. But gradually he realized that the Bishop would not further jeopardize121 his dignity, or run the risk of making himself ridiculous. Mr. Poodle would undoubtedly122 set the township road commissioner123 on his trail, and he would be liable to seizure124 for the theft of a steam roller. But that could hardly happen so quickly. In the meantime, a plan had been forming in his mind, but it would require darkness for its execution.
Darkness did not delay in coming. As he jolted125 cheerfully from road to road, holding up long strings126 of motors at every corner while he jovially127 held out his arm as a sign that he was going to turn, dark purple clouds were massing and piling up. Foreseeing a storm, he bought some provisions at a roadhouse, and turned into a field, where he camped in the lee of a forest of birches. He cooked himself an excellent supper, toasting bread and frankfurters in the firebox of the roller. With boiling water from a steam-cock he brewed128 a panikin of tea; and sat placidly129 admiring the fawn-pink light on wide pampas of bronze grasses, tawny130 as a panther's hide. A strong wind began to draw from the southeast. He lit the lantern at the rear of the machine and by the time the rain came hissing131 upon the hot boiler, he was ready. Luckily he had saved the tarpaulin. He spread this on the ground underneath132 the roller, and curled up in it. The glow from the firebox kept him warm and dry.
“Summer is over,” he said to himself, as he heard the clash and spouting133 of rain all about him. He lay for some time, not sleepy, thinking theology, and enjoying the close tumult134 of wind and weather.
People who have had an arm or a leg amputated, he reflected, say they can still feel pains in the absent member. Well, there's an analogy in that. Modern skepticism has amputated God from the heart; but there is still a twinge where the arteries135 were sewn up.
He slept peacefully until about two in the morning, except when a red-hot coal, slipping through the grate-bars, burned a lamentable136 hole in his trousers. When he woke, the night still dripped, but was clear aloft. He started the engine and drove cautiously, along black slippery roads, to Mr. Poodle's house. In spite of the unavoidable racket, no one stirred: he surmised137 that the curate slept soundly after the crises of the day. He left the engine by the doorstep, pinning a note to the steering-wheel. It said:
this useful steam-roller
as a symbol of the theological mind
MR. GISSING
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1
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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subconscious
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| n./adj.潜意识(的)，下意识(的) | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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exhort
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| v.规劝，告诫 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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14
loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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15
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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16
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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17
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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gild
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| vt.给…镀金，把…漆成金色，使呈金色 | |
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consecrate
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| v.使圣化，奉…为神圣；尊崇；奉献 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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35
superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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chafing
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| n.皮肤发炎v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的现在分词 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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41
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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42
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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43
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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44
impeded
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| 阻碍，妨碍，阻止( impede的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
pealing
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| v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的现在分词 ) | |
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46
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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47
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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48
hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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49
hurling
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| n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的现在分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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50
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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51
chauffeurs
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| n.受雇于人的汽车司机( chauffeur的名词复数 ) | |
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52
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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53
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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54
tolled
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| 鸣钟（toll的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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57
lamentation
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| n.悲叹，哀悼 | |
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58
embittered
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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60
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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61
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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62
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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63
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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64
overhaul
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| v./n.大修，仔细检查 | |
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65
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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66
melee
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| n.混战；混战的人群 | |
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67
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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68
boiler
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| n.锅炉；煮器(壶，锅等) | |
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69
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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70
tarpaulin
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| n.涂油防水布，防水衣，防水帽 | |
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71
canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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72
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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73
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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74
draughts
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| n. <英>国际跳棋 | |
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75
gauge
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| v.精确计量；估计；n.标准度量；计量器 | |
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76
throttle
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| n.节流阀，节气阀，喉咙；v.扼喉咙，使窒息，压 | |
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77
notches
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| n.（边缘或表面上的）V型痕迹( notch的名词复数 )；刻痕；水平；等级 | |
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78
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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79
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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80
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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81
sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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82
secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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83
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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84
versatile
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| adj.通用的，万用的；多才多艺的，多方面的 | |
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85
rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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86
crunched
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的过去式和过去分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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87
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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88
pastry
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| n.油酥面团，酥皮糕点 | |
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89
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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90
accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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91
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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93
uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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94
bishops
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| （基督教某些教派管辖大教区的）主教( bishop的名词复数 )； （国际象棋的）象 | |
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95
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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96
bickering
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| v.争吵( bicker的现在分词 )；口角；（水等）作潺潺声；闪烁 | |
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97
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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98
docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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99
stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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100
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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101
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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102
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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103
replenished
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| 补充( replenish的过去式和过去分词 )； 重新装满 | |
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104
grooming
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| n. 修饰, 美容，（动物）梳理毛发 | |
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105
punctiliously
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106
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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107
heresy
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| n.异端邪说；异教 | |
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108
schism
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| n.分派，派系，分裂 | |
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109
smears
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| 污迹( smear的名词复数 )； 污斑； （显微镜的）涂片； 诽谤 | |
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110
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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111
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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112
regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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113
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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114
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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115
jeers
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| n.操纵帆桁下部（使其上下的）索具；嘲讽( jeer的名词复数 )v.嘲笑( jeer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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116
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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117
penance
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| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
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118
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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119
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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120
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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121
jeopardize
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| vt.危及，损害 | |
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122
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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123
commissioner
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| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
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124
seizure
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| n.没收；占有；抵押 | |
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125
jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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126
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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127
jovially
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| adv.愉快地，高兴地 | |
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128
brewed
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| 调制( brew的过去式和过去分词 )； 酝酿； 沏（茶）； 煮（咖啡） | |
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129
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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130
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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131
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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132
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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133
spouting
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| n.水落管系统v.（指液体）喷出( spout的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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134
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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135
arteries
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| n.动脉( artery的名词复数 )；干线，要道 | |
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136
lamentable
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| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
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137
surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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