Ponto the Dane, a piebald hummock1 of utter contentment, slapped his vast stern on the sands; woke; and rose to his haunches.
At gaze into the sun-dazzle, Ponto's slitty eyes could just discern the twin rock buttresses2 of Chilworth Cove3, the sea-water eddying4 translucent5 between them, and, forging through the sea-water, a man's head. White birds, which Ponto after one or two dignified6 experiments had decided7 uncatchable, strutted8 the beach or circled lazily round the buttresses. His mistress slept, sun-bonneted in her long deck-chair, a smile on her lips.
"This," dreamed the great dog's mistress, "is paradise."
Chilworth Cove lies far from the track of motor char-à-bancs in the unspoiled West Country. Inshore from its tongue of hot gold sands, the wild flowers riot; and back along the fritillary-haunted pathway through the wild flowers, Chilworth Ghyll leads to Chilworth Port--a handful of thatch-roofed, pink-washed cottages whereon the clematis spreads its purple stars and the honeysuckle droops10 coral clusters for the loudly-questing bee.
Once the sea filled the Ghyll; once, from the ancient well-head midway of the streetless "port," men drew water for their ships; once seafarers in hose and doublet with strange oaths and stranger tales on their lips would sit drinking in the parlor12 of the ancient alehouse. But to-day never a ship and hardly a "foreigner" comes where Chill Down upswells warm-breasted as a woman to the blue and Chill Common sweeps wave on wave of heathered ridges13 to a houseless horizon.
This summer, indeed, only three "foreigners"--the man forging overarm to seaward, the drowsy14 dog, and the dreaming lady--had visited the port: for the square-faced, square-hipped Devonian woman, busied at the moment with the setting-out of curdled15 cream and other homely16 fare in their pink-washed cottage, was no "foreigner"--but a port woman by birth, as the alehouse well knew.
And if the alehouse sometimes speculated why "Martha Staley's daughter, her who had the good place in Lunnon, should have brought her 'folk' to the port"--who cared? Not Ronnie! Not Aliette! For them, London with all its harassing17 memories had faded into that remote past before they possessed18 one another, before flaming June and flaming love alike combined to teach them a delight so exquisite19 that it seemed to both as though paradise itself could hold no rarer in its offering.
They had been in paradise a full month; and never for a moment had either of them regretted their hurried flight, their abandoned schemes. The past was dead, the future still unborn; they lived only for the all-sufficing present, two human beings fulfilling one another in isolation20 from their kind.
"Ronnie is happy," dreamed Aliette. "Happy as I am."
Yet even dreaming, she knew her own happiness the greater. She, risking most, gained the most from her risking; she--once that first inevitable21 fear of revulsion which is the portion of every woman who, disappointed in one man, seeks consolation22 with another, proved phantom--had been content to surrender herself, body, brain, and soul, to the call of matehood; to pour out all that was best hers, of beauty, of selflessness, of tender thought and reckless caring, at Ronnie's feet; knowing each gift a thousand times recompensed by the slightest touch of his hand on her hair, the lightest brushing of his lips against her cheeks--knowing herself no longer a woman, but very womanhood, eternal essence distilled23 eternally from the fruit of Eden-tree for manhood's completion.
And, "Poor Ronnie," she dreamed, "he can never be happy as I am. He thinks I am the same Aliette--he does not realize the miracle."
For, of a surety, if ever love wrought24 a miracle, it was on this woman. She who, in her mateless fastidiousness, had schooled herself to the poise25 of a virgin26 Artemis, became, mated, the very Venus Anadyomene, Venus of foam27 and of sun-glints, rose-flushed for adoration28 between the roses and the sea. And in the hush29 of moon-pale midnights, when the clematis-blossoms showed as black butterflies against their diamonded window-panes, when the ripples30 beyond the Ghyll murmured like tired children asleep, she--to whom, mateless, the nights had been emptier even than the days--became night's own goddess-girl, subduing32 man's passion to merest instrument of her love.
The dreaming lady stirred, murmuring through dreams; and the smile faded from her lips.
Sometimes, even to paradise--as black ships seen through a golden haze34 to seaward--came dark visions of the past. Of Julia Cavendish, her son's unanswered letter crumpled35 in unrelenting fingers; of Mollie and her James; of the mullioned house at Clyst Fullerford; of the stiff bow-fronted library at Lancaster Gate; and of the man in that library, the man whose thin lips muttered: "So it was that briefless fool Cavendish you would have married, had I given you your freedom. Very good! Go to him now, if you dare. You're not my property. I can't force you to stop here. But if you leave this house, remember that you're still Mrs. Hector Brunton, not Mrs. Ronald Cavendish. Remember that you're taking a risk, a biggish risk."
That risk, all in a sweet madness, the dreaming lady and the man forging back to her through the translucent water, had taken within twelve hours; hurriedly; almost planlessly; instinctively36 as Ponto, who, let loose by a mischievous37 boy from his kennel38 in Westbourne Street, nosed his way to the door of Brunton's house just as Aliette and Caroline Staley stepped into the loaded taxi, and, spying the portmanteau, set up such a howl that in sheer self-defense they let him clamber in between them.
"And that," thought Aliette, waking from dreams to find a huge wet nose nuzzling her hand, "was the maddest thing I did in all that one mad day."
Then she, too, sat at gaze into the sun-dazzle; till her lover's head rounded the translucent pool below the buttresses; till he came up the hot sands toward her--the sea-light in his hair, his browned shoulders dripping from the sea.
2
Meanwhile, five hours away along the shining track beyond Chill Common, seven million exiles from paradise plied39 their harassed40 harassing earth-days in London City.
Of all those seven millions only three people knew exactly what had happened; and only two--Julia Cavendish and Benjamin Bunce--the fugitives41' address. Even Mollie, who had been overnighting with friends at Richmond during those few hours when her sister decided on flight, had been told--officially--nothing.
But Mollie, from the first moment when she glanced at the incoherent scrawl42 Lennard handed her on her return, had suspected the worst. With her, Hector's reassurances43, given over the telephone from his chambers44, that "Alie had suddenly made up her mind to take a holiday," went for nothing.
"Rather unexpected, wasn't it?" she said; and then, remembering the scene in the drawing-room: "On the whole, Hector, I think I'd better take a holiday, too."
Hector, with a terse45, "Of course, you must do what you think best," rang off; and the girl, now thoroughly46 perturbed47, telephoned to Betty Masterman, her oldest school-friend, demanding hospitality.
"Nothing wrong, I hope?" said Betty.
"No, dear. Nothing. Only Alie's had to go away, and I can't very well stop here without a chaperon."
Betty Masterman was a comforting creature who neither asked nor demanded confidences; but the interview with James Wilberforce hurt. It took Mollie three days to summon up enough courage to notify him of her new address; and when, throwing up his afternoon's work in Norfolk Street, he came to call at the little conventionally-furnished flat, it seemed to the girl as though they could never again be frank with one another; as though her very greeting, "Hello, James! Rotten of Alie to take a holiday, right in the middle of the season, isn't it?" were a deliberate lie.
And his answer, "Oh, well, it's rather stuffy48 in town, these days," made any discussion of the topic nearest her heart impossible. "For, of course," thought the girl, "Jimmy knows that Aliette's run away from Hector."
As a matter of fact, Jimmy had not previously49 suspected any connection between Aliette Brunton's sudden departure from Lancaster Gate and the news, previously imparted to him by Benjamin Bunce, that "Mr. Cavendish had been called out of town and might not be back for some days." It was, Jimmy said to himself, rather weird50 of old Ronnie to buzz off in the middle of the sessions; but then old Ronnie always had been rather weird, a peculiar51 kind of chap, pretty reticent52 about his private affairs.
But subconsciously53, the moment Mollie spoke54 of her sister, the solicitor55's mind connected the two disappearances56. At first blush, the connection seemed incredible. "Old Ronnie" was "as straight as they make 'em"; and "H. B.'s wife a regular Puritan."
All the same, James Wilberforce--just to reassure57 himself--would have liked to ask a question or two, to take Mollie's summary of evidence. He wanted, for instance, to ask her if she knew her sister's address.
Something restrained him from asking the question; but while he was taking tea his brain suddenly remembered a little twist of Ronnie's mouth when Julia Cavendish had mentioned Aliette's name during his lunch at Bruton Street. Scarcely noticed at the time, that remembered twist of the clean-shaven lips called up other memories; Ronald and Aliette at Key Hatch, playing patters at Queen's, shaking hands in Hyde Park.
"But it's absurd," thought the big red solicitor, "absurd! I'd lay twenty to one against it. A hundred to one!" And, looking at Mollie across the tea-table, he forgot her sister.
That afternoon the girl seemed more than ever desirable, just the sort of wife he was looking for. He liked the way she bobbed her dark hair, the cotton frock she was wearing, her strong white hands and arms; he liked being alone with her in this little room with its fumed59 oak furniture, its red wall-paper, its general air of coziness. He would have liked, very much, to kiss that full red mouth. But more than anything else, he liked this new shyness, this very hopeful shyness, which had replaced her old self-confidence.
"What's the matter with you this afternoon, Mollie?" he chaffed her. "Got the hump about anything?"
"No. I'm a bit tired; that's all."
"Nothing worrying you?"
"Nothing much."
And again--vaguely--the solicitor in Wilberforce grew nervous.
"Damn it all," he thought, "supposing my suspicions are right. Suppose those two have gone off together. It's fifty to one against, but still----"
The instinct to gamble on that fifty-to-one chance (it had been a hundred to one half an hour since), to propose and have done with it, came to him. But his caution subdued60 the instinct. The world, his world, was a pretty censorious place; and if one's father were almost a cert. for his baronetcy, if one were junior partner in a firm so entirely61 sans reproche with the king's proctor as Wilberforce, Wilberforce & Cartwright--well, one just couldn't afford to take even thousand-to-one gambles on one's future wife's social position.
The entrance of Betty, a thin golden-haired grass-widow, very much à la mode from her trim feet to her modulated62 voice, tided over the awkward interview.
That night, however, Mollie Fullerford--least sentimental63 of the modern young--cried herself to sleep.
3
Tears are not fashionable in Pump Court; but that melancholy64 individual, Benjamin Bunce, very nearly followed Mollie Fullerford's example, when "young Mr. Wilberforce"--anxious only to allay65 his suspicions--called at Ronnie's chambers next morning.
"I'm sure I don't know what to do, sir," wailed66 Benjamin. "Here's a couple of good briefs come in; and my instructions is not to send anything on to him. No, sir, I'm afraid I can't give you his address. I'm not allowed to give any one his address--except Mr. David Patterson. And that only if Mr. David Patterson asks me for it."
"David Patterson!" exclaimed the solicitor.
"Yes, sir. Mr. Brunton's--Mr. Hector Brunton's--clerk."
"Good God!" said a young man whose ruddy complexion67 had gone suddenly white. "Good God!" And he walked out of the door, as Benjamin subsequently described it, "as though he'd been lifting the elbow ever since breakfast."
4
James Wilberforce did not gossip; nevertheless, within a week of the flight for paradise, rumor68--the amazing omniscient69 rumor of London--began to weave, spider-like, her intangible filaments70. As yet, rumor was unconfirmed: only a vague web of talk, spun71 from boudoir to drawing-room, from drawing-room to club, from club to Fleet Street, from Fleet Street to the Griffin.
And in the center of the web, watching it a-weave, sat Aliette's husband.
More than once, friends, those maddeningly tactful friends of the successful, touched on rumor; but none of them, not even Hector's father, succeeded in extracting a syllable72. "My wife," said Hector Brunton, K.C, to his friends, "has not been feeling very well lately. I've sent her out of town for a bit of a holiday."
At first the mere33 mention of Aliette's name enraged73 him; aroused in him a cruelty so melodramatic, so virulent74 that, for a full three days, he went in fear of becoming a murderer. He knew that he could find "the guilty pair" easily enough: Cavendish's clerk--Aliette's brief note told him--would give his solicitors75 their address. But even without Cavendish's clerk it would be simple to trace them. You couldn't lug76 a twelve-stone dog round the London railway termini without attracting the attention of at least half a hundred involuntary private detectives!
Somehow (comedy and tragedy blend strangely in the heart of a man!) the idea of Ponto's accompanying his wife's elopement seemed in Brunton's eyes the culminating insult, a last intolerable outrage77 on the domestic decencies. He, Hector, had given Aliette that dog; and, though he hated the beast himself, he grudged78 it to Cavendish. To his enraged mind, the dog turned symbol of his betrayal. He had been betrayed by a dishonest woman. If Aliette had possessed any sense of honesty, she would have left Ponto behind: as she had left all his other gifts--the pearl necklace, the jeweled wrist-watch, the gray ostrich-feather fan.
Then, hot on the heels of rage, came remorse--remorse, not for his cruelty, not for his infidelities, but only for the crass79 stupidity with which he believed himself to have handled the situation. He might have known the woman better than to attempt bluff80. He ought to have pleaded with her. Or locked her in her bedroom. On no account ought he to have gone down to the courts next morning. Why hadn't he telephoned Mollie to return that very night? Why hadn't he wired to Clyst Fullerford for Aliette's mother?
Self-pity succeeded. He pictured himself the injured husband; and, his heart softening81 towards Aliette, vowed82 "that seducer83 Cavendish should suffer."
But Cavendish's sufferings did not suffice his imagination. Why should Cavendish alone suffer? Why should either the woman or the man get off scotfree? Why shouldn't both of them be made to suffer--damnably--as damnably as he himself was suffering?
For, surely as love made paradise of Chilworth Cove, so surely did lust11 fashion hell at Lancaster Gate.
From this hell in which--as Brunton imagined--the loss of a woman, and not the loss of his own self-esteem furnished the flame, Brunton's only escape was work; and into work he flung himself, as a scalded child into cold water, only to find the agony redoubled on emergence84. For though his work--eight, ten, and sometimes sixteen hours a day of the tensest mental concentration--did momentarily banish85 introspection; always, his work concluded, came the Furies.
In the night, they came--like evil old women--lashing him, sleepless86, from room to room of that huge silent house, mocking him, mocking him. "Only wait," mocked the Furies. "She'll come back. Perhaps she's on her way home at this very moment. She'll soon tire of Cavendish--of Cavendish."
Brunton tried to scream back at them (he knew, even before they showed him his face in the mirror of his dressing-room, that the scream could not pass his lips), "I wouldn't have her back. I wouldn't, I tell you--I wouldn't. She's a loose woman. An adulteress."
"Oh, yes, you would," answered the Furies. "Oh, yes, you would. If she came into this house now--if she rang the front door-bell--listen! listen hard! didn't you hear a bell, Brunton?--if she offered herself to you, you'd take her. It's three years, Brunton. Three years since you went into that room. Think of her, Brunton. Think of her--her hair unbound--her arms open to receive--Cavendish!"
And by day, when the evil old women slept, men mocked at him--voicelessly. All men--so it seemed to him--knew his shame. All men! Lennard and the chauffeur87, so smooth-faced, so efficient, grinning behind smug hands: the acquaintances at his clubs: his co-barristers, lunching either side of him at Middle Temple Hall: his subservient88 clerk: his respectful clients--all these knew him for the deserted89 bull, for the male incapable90 of authority, for the public cuckold. Even the impassive pseudo-friendly judges who gave him his verdicts were wise to his cuckoldry.
Curiously91 enough, in all that month of June, Brunton never lost a case. Possible defeats, probable compromises, doubtful prosecution92, or still more doubtful defense--every legal battle he fought ended in sweeping93 victory. Treasury94 briefs, consultations95, and demands for his "opinion" avalanched on his chambers in King's Bench Walk. Fleet Street echoed and re?choed his name; till it appeared as though the herd96, the damned hypocritical herd who fawned97 openly on his public success so that they might gloat the more on his secret failure, twitted him in very malice98 with the prospects99 of a knighthood, of a judgeship, of a safe seat at the next election.
More and more, as the days went by, he saw himself as the deserted bull; and, so seeing, swore that he would teach the whole herd a lesson. The herd had its rules, its shibboleths100; but he was above all rules, above all shibboleths. Let the herd murmur31 if it dared. His wife and her lover could rot in the mire101 they had pashed for themselves. The lone58 bull would not even deign102 to horn their flanks.
So, arrogance103 and cruelty in his secret heart; lash-marks of the Furies red across his secret loins; feigning104 himself unhurt, uncaring; feigning himself ignorant; feigning even solicitude105 for the health of his absent wife, Hector Brunton went his conquering conquered way.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
hummock
|
|
| n.小丘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
buttresses
|
|
| n.扶壁，扶垛( buttress的名词复数 )v.用扶壁支撑，加固( buttress的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
cove
|
|
| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
eddying
|
|
| 涡流，涡流的形成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
translucent
|
|
| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
dignified
|
|
| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
strutted
|
|
| 趾高气扬地走，高视阔步( strut的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
mused
|
|
| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
droops
|
|
| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
lust
|
|
| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
parlor
|
|
| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
ridges
|
|
| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
drowsy
|
|
| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
curdled
|
|
| v.（使）凝结( curdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
homely
|
|
| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
harassing
|
|
| v.侵扰，骚扰( harass的现在分词 )；不断攻击（敌人） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
isolation
|
|
| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
consolation
|
|
| n.安慰，慰问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
distilled
|
|
| adj.由蒸馏得来的v.蒸馏( distil的过去式和过去分词 )；从…提取精华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
wrought
|
|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
poise
|
|
| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
virgin
|
|
| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
foam
|
|
| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
adoration
|
|
| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
hush
|
|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
ripples
|
|
| 逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
subduing
|
|
| 征服( subdue的现在分词 )； 克制； 制服； 色变暗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
haze
|
|
| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
crumpled
|
|
| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
mischievous
|
|
| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
kennel
|
|
| n.狗舍，狗窝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
plied
|
|
| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
harassed
|
|
| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
fugitives
|
|
| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
scrawl
|
|
| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
reassurances
|
|
| n.消除恐惧或疑虑( reassurance的名词复数 )；恢复信心；使人消除恐惧或疑虑的事物；使人恢复信心的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
chambers
|
|
| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
terse
|
|
| adj.(说话，文笔)精炼的，简明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
perturbed
|
|
| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
stuffy
|
|
| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
previously
|
|
| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
weird
|
|
| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
reticent
|
|
| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
subconsciously
|
|
| ad.下意识地，潜意识地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
solicitor
|
|
| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
disappearances
|
|
| n.消失( disappearance的名词复数 )；丢失；失踪；失踪案 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
reassure
|
|
| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
lone
|
|
| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
fumed
|
|
| 愤怒( fume的过去式和过去分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
subdued
|
|
| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
modulated
|
|
| 已调整[制]的，被调的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
sentimental
|
|
| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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
allay
|
|
| v.消除，减轻(恐惧、怀疑等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
wailed
|
|
| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
complexion
|
|
| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
rumor
|
|
| n.谣言，谣传，传说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
omniscient
|
|
| adj.无所不知的；博识的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
filaments
|
|
| n.（电灯泡的）灯丝( filament的名词复数 )；丝极；细丝；丝状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
spun
|
|
| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
syllable
|
|
| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
enraged
|
|
| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
virulent
|
|
| adj.有毒的，有恶意的，充满敌意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
solicitors
|
|
| 初级律师( solicitor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
lug
|
|
| n.柄，突出部，螺帽；(英）耳朵；（俚）笨蛋；vt.拖，拉，用力拖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
outrage
|
|
| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
grudged
|
|
| 怀恨（grudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
crass
|
|
| adj.愚钝的，粗糙的；彻底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
bluff
|
|
| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
softening
|
|
| 变软，软化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
vowed
|
|
| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
seducer
|
|
| n.诱惑者,骗子,玩弄女性的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
emergence
|
|
| n.浮现，显现，出现，（植物）突出体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
banish
|
|
| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
sleepless
|
|
| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
chauffeur
|
|
| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
subservient
|
|
| adj.卑屈的，阿谀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
prosecution
|
|
| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
treasury
|
|
| n.宝库；国库，金库；文库 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
consultations
|
|
| n.磋商（会议）( consultation的名词复数 )；商讨会；协商会；查找 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
herd
|
|
| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
fawned
|
|
| v.（尤指狗等）跳过来往人身上蹭以示亲热( fawn的过去式和过去分词 )；巴结；讨好 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
malice
|
|
| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
prospects
|
|
| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
shibboleths
|
|
| n.（党派、集团等的）准则( shibboleth的名词复数 )；教条；用语；行话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
mire
|
|
| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
deign
|
|
| v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
arrogance
|
|
| n.傲慢，自大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
feigning
|
|
| 假装，伪装( feign的现在分词 )； 捏造（借口、理由等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
solicitude
|
|
| n.焦虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |