She had exhausted4 the delights of the car of thirty-five million dove-power, and was anxious to settle Sheila in Romney Place as quickly as possible.
“As for you two,” she added, “you have had as big a dose of each other as is good for you.”
Only one thing tempted5 her to linger in Paris—curiosity as to the sentimental6 degree of the friendship between the lady of her disfavour and Quixtus. That she was a new friend and not an old friend, the exchange of a few remarks with the ingenuous7 Lady Louisa had enabled her very soon to discover. Clementina looked askance on such violent intimacies8. Quixtus, for whose welfare now she felt herself, in an absurd way, responsible, had not the constitution to stand them. The lady might be highly connected and move in the selectest of circles, but she had a hard edge, betraying what Clementina was pleased to call the society hack9; she was shallow, insincere; talked out of a hastily stuffed memory instead of an intellect; she had the vulgarity of good breeding, as noticeable a quality as the good-breeding of one in lowly station; she was insufferable—an impossible companion for a man of Quixtus’s mental equipment and sensitive organisation10. There was something else about her that baffled Clementina, and further whetted11 her curiosity.
Neither was Clementina perfect, nor did she look for perfection in this compromise of a world. As an artist she demanded light and shade. “I wouldn’t paint an angel’s portrait,” she said once, “for fifty thousand pounds. And if an angel came to tea with me, the first thing I should do would be to claw off his wings.” Now, no one could deny the light and shade in Lena Fontaine. But there is such a thing as false chiaroscuro12, and it offends and perplexes the artist. Lena Fontaine offended and perplexed13 Clementina.
Again, Clementina, with regard to the chambers15 of her heart, was somewhat house-proud. Very few were admitted; but once admitted, the favoured mortal was welcome to stay there for ever. Now, behold16 an exasperating17 aggravation18. She had just received Quixtus in the very best guest-room, and, instead of admiring it and taking his ease in it, here he was hanging halfway19 out of window, all ears to a common hussy. If she had an insane desire to pull him back by the coat-tails, who can blame her?
No sensible purpose being attainable21, however, by lingering in Paris, she gruffly sent temptation packing, and, with her brood under her wing, took the noon train from the Gare du Nord on the following day.
Quixtus was there, at the station, to see them off, his arms filled with packages. As he could not raise his hat when the party approached, he smiled apologetically, looking, according to Tommy, like Father Christmas detected at Midsummer. There was a great bouquet22 of orchids23 for Clementina (such a handy, useful thing on the journey from Paris to London!) an enormous bonbonnière of sweets for Etta; a stupendous woolly lamb for Sheila which, on something being done to its anatomy24, opened its mouth and gramaphonically chanted the “Jewel Song” from Faust; and a gold watch for Tommy.
The singing of the lamb, incautiously exploited on the platform, to Sheila’s ecstasy25, caused considerable dislocation of railway business. A crowd collected to see the gaunt, scholarly Englishman holding the apocalyptic26 beast in his arms, all intent on the rapture27 of the tiny flower-like thing standing28 open-mouthed before him. Even porters forgot to say “Faites attention,” and stopped their barrows, to listen to the magic song and view the unprecedented29 spectacle. It was only when the lamb bleated30 his last note that Quixtus became conscious of his surroundings.
“Good heavens!” said he.
“Do it again,” said Sheila, in her clear contralto, whereat the bystanders laughed.
“Not for anything in the world, my dear. Tommy, take the infernal thing. My dear,” said he, lifting Sheila in his arms, “if I know anything of Tommy, he will have that tune31 going for the next seven hours.”
She allowed herself to be carried in seraphic content to the entrance of the car in which was the compartment32 reserved for the party. Tommy carrying the lamb, Clementina and Etta followed.
“That kid’s a wonder,” said Tommy. “She would creep into the heart of a parsnip.”
Clementina, to whom the remark was addressed, walked three or four steps in silence. Then she said:
“Tommy, if I hear you say a thing like that again, I’ll box your ears.”
He stared at her in amazement33. He had paid a spontaneous and sincere tribute to the child over whom she had gone crazy. What more could she want? She moved a step in advance, leaving him free to justify34 himself with Etta, who agreed with him in the proposition that Clementina for the last two days was in a very cranky mood. Very natural, the proposition of the two innocents. How could they divine that the moisture in Clementina’s eyes had nothing whatsoever35 to do with Sheila’s appreciation36 of the vocal37 lamb or her readiness to be carried by Quixtus? How could they divine that, at the possibility of which the cruelty and insolence38 of youth would have caused them both to shriek39 with inextinguishable laughter? And how was Tommy, generous-hearted lad that he was, to know that this one unperceptive speech of his sent him hurtling out of the land of Romance down to common earth? Henceforward Tommy, whilst retaining his chamber14 in Clementina’s heart, was to walk in and out just as he chose. Not the tiniest pang40 was he again to cause her. But what could Tommy know—what can you or I or any other male thing ever born know of a woman? We walk, good easy men; with confident and careless tread through the familiar garden, and then suddenly terra firma miraculously42 ceases to exist, and head-over-heels we go down a precipice43. How came it that we were unaware44 of its existence? Mystère! Who could interpret the soul of La Giaconda? Leonardo da Vinci least of all. It is all very well to give a man a vote; he is a transparent45 animal, and you know the way the dunderhead is going to use it; but the incalculable and pyrotechnic way in which women will use it will make humanity blink. Let us therefore pardon Tommy for staring in amazement at Clementina. He sought refuge in Etta. From Scylla, perhaps, to Charybdis; but for the present, Charybdis sat smiling under her fig-tree, the most innocent and bewitching monster in the world.
Leaving the three children in the compartment, Clementina and Quixtus walked, for the last few moments before the train started, up and down the platform.
“I suppose you’ll soon be coming back to London?” said Clementina.
“I think so,” said he. “Now that the Grand Prix is over Paris is emptying rapidly.”
“Parrot!” thought Clementina, once more confounding the instructress; but she said blandly46; “What difference in the world can it make to you whether Paris is empty or not?”
He smiled good-naturedly. “To tell the honest truth, none. Yes. I must be getting home again.”
“Of course there’ll be a certain amount of worry over Hammersley’s affairs,” she said; “but I hope you’ve got something else to do to occupy your mind.”
“I want to settle down to systematic47 work,” replied Quixtus.
“What kind of work?”
“Well,” said he, with an apologetic air, “I mean to extend my little handbook on ‘The Household Arts of the Neolithic48 Age’ into an authoritative49 and comprehensive treatise50. I’ve been gathering51 material for years. I’m anxious to begin.”
“Begin to-morrow,” said Clementina. “And whenever you feel lonely come and read bits of it to Sheila and me.”
And thus came about the surprising and monstrous52 alliance between Clementina and Prehistoric53 Man. Dead men’s jawbones had some use after all.
“En voiture!” cried the guard.
“We have, indeed. You are sending away three very happy people.”
“Why not four?”
But she only smiled wryly55 and said: “Good-bye, God bless you. And keep out of mischief,” and clambered into the train.
The train began to move, to the faint strains of the “Jewel Song” in Faust, and Sheila blew him kisses from the carriage window. He responded until the little white face disappeared. Then he thought of Clementina.
“The very best, but the most enigmatic woman in the world,” said he.
Entirely58 ignorant of the word of the enigma56, he went back to the spotless flower of insulted womanhood, who took him off to lunch with her French friends. She welcomed his undivided homage59. That fishfag of a creature, as she characterised Clementina in conversation with Lady Louisa, made her feel uncomfortable. Even now that she had gone, the problem of Quixtus’s removal from her sphere of influence remained. The child was the stake to which he was fettered60 within that sphere. Could she break the chains? Therein seemed to lie the only solution—unless by audacity61 and adroitness62 she uprooted63 the stake and carried it, with Quixtus, chains and all, into her own territory.
She had a talk after lunch with Huckaby. The luncheon-party had broken up into groups of two or three, who wandered about the cool enclosure of the Bois de Boulogne restaurant where the feast had been given, and, half by chance, half by design, the two had joined company. Their conversation on the evening of Quixtus’s departure from Paris had deeply affected64 their mutual65 relations. Each felt conscious of presenting a less tarnished66 front to the other, and each, not hypocritically, began to assume a little halo of virtue67 in the pathetic hope that the other would be impressed by its growing radiance. During the few days of Quixtus’s absence they had become friends and exchanged confidences. Huckaby convinced her of the sincerity68 of his desire to reform. He described his life. He had worked when work came his way—but work has a curious habit of shrinking from the drunkard’s way; a bit of teaching, a bit of free-lance journalism69, a bit of hack compilation70 in the British Museum; he had borrowed far and wide; he had not been over-scrupulous71 on the point of financial honour. Hunger had driven him. Lena Fontaine shivered at the horrors through which he had struggled. All he desired was cleanliness in life and body and surroundings. She understood. Material cleanliness had been and would be hers; but cleanliness of life she yearned72 for as much as he did. But for him, the man, with the given boon73 of honourable74 employment, it was an easy matter. For her, the woman, tired and soul-sick, what avenue lay open? She, in her turn, told him of incidents in her career at which he shuddered75. “Throw it up, throw it up,” he counselled. She smiled bitterly. What could be the end of the bird of prey76 who assumed the habits of the dove? She could marry, he replied, before it was too late. Marry, ay! But whom? She had not dared confide41 to him her hope. So close, however, being their relations, Huckaby had not failed to acquaint her with the important scope of his conversation with Quixtus the day before. Quixtus’s changed demeanour, obvious to her at once, confirmed his announcement. She welcomed it with more joy than Huckaby could appreciate. For behind the pity that had paralysed beak77 and talon78, the new-born hope and the curious liking79 she had conceived for the mild, crazy gentleman, stalked the instinctive80 aversion which the sane20 feel towards those whose wits have gone ever so little astray. The news had come as an immense relief. Now she could meet him on normal ground. All was fair.
They found two chairs by a little table under a tree, at the back of the Chalet Restaurant and secluded81 from the gaiety and laughter of the front. Nothing human was in sight save, through the tall, masking acacias and shrubs82, the white gleams of cooks and hurrying, aproned waiters.
“Let us sit,” she said. “How good it is to get a little cool and quiet. This vie de cabaret is getting on my nerves. I’m weary to death of it.”
Huckaby laughed. “It’s still enough novelty to me to be pleasant.”
She accepted a cigarette. They smoked for a while.
“How’s goodness getting on?” she asked.
“By leaps and bounds daily. I’m becoming a fanatical believer in the copy-book. I’m virtuous83. I’m happy. Industry is a virtue. My virtue is to be rewarded by industry. Therefore virtue is its own reward.”
“What industry?”
“I’m going to collaborate84 with our friend in the new book he’s talking about,” replied Huckaby, with a surviving touch of boastfulness. “There is also a possibility of my taking over the secretaryship of the Anthropological85 Society.”
“You’re lucky,” said Lena Fontaine.
“How’s goodness with you?”
“Husbands seem to have, as I’ve already suggested to you.”
“Have you any particular husband to suggest?”
He cast on her a glance of admiration87, for in her outward seeming she was an object for any man’s forgivable desire, and he said in a tone not wholly of banter88:
She laughed. “None whatever.”
“You’ll pardon my presumption90 in making the offer; but could I, en galant homme, do otherwise?”
“No,” she replied, good-humouredly, “you couldn’t. If you had five thousand a year, it would give me to think, for you’re not unsympathetic. But as you haven’t, I’ve no use for you—as a husband, bien entendu.”
It was a jest. They laughed. Presently a cloud obscured the sunshine of her laughter. She leaned over the table.
“Eustace Huckaby, are you or are you not my friend?”
For once in her dealings with a man whose goodwill91 she desperately92 craved93, she was sincere. She dropped the conscious play of glance and tone; but she forgot the liquid splendour of her eyes and the dangerous nearness of her face to his.
“Your friend?” he cried, laying his hand on her wrist. “Can you doubt it? I am indeed. I swear it.”
“Do you know why I’m staying here—apparently wasting my time?”
“I’ve supposed something was up; but my supposition seemed too absurd!”
“Why absurd?”
“Quixtus as a husband?”
“Yes. Why not?”
“Do you care for him?”
“Yes. In a way. I sincerely do. If you mean—have I fallen desperately in love with him?—well, I haven’t. That would be absurd. It’s not my habit to fall in love.”
“What would you get out of it?”
She made an impatient gesture. “Rest. Peace. Happiness. He’s a wealthy man and would give me all the comfort I need. I couldn’t face poverty. And he would be kind to me.”
“I’m a lady, after all,” she said, “and I know how to run a large house—and as a woman I’m not unattractive. And I’d run straight. Temperamentally I am straight. That’s frank. Whatever impulses I’ve had within me with regard to running off the rails have been the other way. Oh, God, yes,” she added, with a little shiver and averted97 eyes, “I’d run straight.”
“What about ghosts of the past rising up and queering things?”
Huckaby lit another cigarette. “He looks on you as a spotless angel of purity,” said he. “If he married you on that assumption, and learned things afterwards, there would be the devil to pay. He’s been hit like that already, and he went off his head. I shouldn’t like him to have another experience. Why not tell him something—just a little?”
She raised both hands in nervous protest. “Oh, no, no. The woman who does that is a fool. It never comes off. Let him take me for what he thinks I am, and I’ll see that I remain so. Trust me. It will be all right. You’re the only impediment.”
“I?”
“Of course. You have it in your power to give me away at any time. That’s why I asked you whether you were my friend.”
Huckaby tugged at his beard, and pondered deeply. He meant, with all the fresh energy of new resolve, to be loyal to Quixtus. But how could he stand in the way of a woman seeking salvation100? Moral sense, however, is a plant of gradual growth. Huckaby’s as yet was not adequate to the solution of the perplexing problem. Lena Fontaine held out her hand, palm upward, across the table.
“Speak,” she said.
He took her hand and pressed it.
“I’ll be your friend in this,” said he.
She thanked him with her eyes, and rose.
“Let us go back to the others, or they’ll think we’re having a horrible flirtation101.”
On this and on the succeeding days she discovered a subtle change in Quixtus’s attitude towards her. His manner had grown, if possible, more courteous102; it betrayed a more delicate admiration, a more graceful103 homage to the beautiful and charming woman. Before his Marseilles visit she had found it an easy task to appeal to the fool that grins in every man. A trick of eyes and voice was enough to set him love-making in what she had termed the Quixtine manner. Now the task was more difficult. She found herself confronted by a greater sensitiveness that did not respond to the obvious invitation. He was up in the clouds, more chivalrous104, more idealistic. With a sigh, she gathered her skirts together and climbed to the higher plane.
And all this on Quixtus’s part was sheer remorse—atonement for the unspeakable insult. The thought of having dared to make coarse love to this exquisite105 creature filled him with horrified106 dismay. That the lady had appeared rather to like the coarse love-making he did not stop to consider. Certainly, in his crazy exultation107, he had proclaimed her a fruit ripe to his hand, but that was only an additional vulgarity which had stained that peculiar108 phase of his being. The result of the reaction was to accentuate109 the reverential conception of woman, which, by reason of a temperament96 dreamy and poetic110 and of a scholarly life remote from the disillusionising conflicts of sex, he had always entertained. He comported111 himself therefore towards her with scrupulous delicacy112, resolved that not a word or intonation113 that could be construed114 into an affront115 should ever pass his lips.
The fine weather broke. Torrential rains swept Paris. The meteorologists talked learnedly about cyclonic116 disturbances117 in the Atlantic which would affect the weather adversely118 for some time to come. Lena Fontaine began to reflect. Summer Paris in rain is no place for junketing, even on the high planes. It offers to the visitor nothing but the boredom119 of hotel and restaurant. She knew the elementary axiom of sex relations, that the woman who bores a man is lost. The high planes were all right when you looked down from them on charming objective things; but, after all, a man has to be amused, and fun on the high planes is a humour dangerously attenuated120. She announced an immediate121 departure from Paris.
“If you would accept the escort of Huckaby and myself, we should be honoured,” said Quixtus. “Unless of course we should be in the way.”
She laughed. “My dear friend, did you ever hear of men being in the way when women were travelling? A lone2 woman is never more conspicuously122 lonesome than en voyage. All the other women around who have men to look after them look at one with a kind of patronising pity, as though they said; ‘Poor thing that can’t rake up a man from anywhere.’ And it makes one want to scratch.”
“Does it really?” smiled Quixtus.
“It does.” She laughed again and sighed. “A lone woman has much to put up with. Malicious123 tongues not the least.”
“My dear Mrs. Fontaine,” said he, “what tongue could be so malicious as to speak evil of you?”
“There are thousands in this gossipy world. Our little friendship and camaraderie124 of the last fortnight—sweetness and innocence125 itself—who knows what misinterpretation slanderers might put on it?”
Quixtus flushed, and drew his gaunt body to its full height. “I’m not pugilistic by habit,” said he, “but if any man made such an insinuation, I should knock him down.”
“It would be more likely a woman.”
“Then,” said he, “I think I could manage to convey to her, without brutality, that she was a disgrace to her sex.”
She fluttered a glance at him. “I should like to have you always as a champion.”
“If I understand the word gentleman aright,” said Quixtus, “he is always the champion of the unprotected woman.”
His tone assured her that this Early-Victorian sentiment was not mere126 gallantry. He meant it, indignant still at the idea of misconstruction of their friendship.
“I happen to be a woman,” she said, “and seek the particular rather than the general. I said my champion, Dr. Quixtus. Now don’t say that the greater includes the less, or I shall fall through the floor.”
He was too much in earnest to smile with her in her coquetry.
“Mrs. Fontaine,” said he, with a bow, “no one will ever dare speak evil of you in my presence.”
She rose—they were sitting in the lounge.
“Thank you,” she said, falling in with his earnest mood. “Thank you. I shall go back to London with a light heart.”
And like a wise woman, she cut short the conversation, and went upstairs to dress for dinner.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
lone
|
|
| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
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： |
|
|
|
|
6
sentimental
|
|
| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
ingenuous
|
|
| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
intimacies
|
|
| 亲密( intimacy的名词复数 )； 密切； 亲昵的言行； 性行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
hack
|
|
| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
organisation
|
|
| n.组织，安排，团体，有机休 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
whetted
|
|
| v.（在石头上）磨（刀、斧等）( whet的过去式和过去分词 )；引起，刺激（食欲、欲望、兴趣等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
chiaroscuro
|
|
| n.明暗对照法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
chambers
|
|
| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
exasperating
|
|
| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
aggravation
|
|
| n.烦恼，恼火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
halfway
|
|
| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
sane
|
|
| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
attainable
|
|
| a.可达到的，可获得的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
bouquet
|
|
| n.花束，酒香 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
orchids
|
|
| n.兰花( orchid的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
anatomy
|
|
| n.解剖学，解剖；功能，结构，组织 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
ecstasy
|
|
| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
apocalyptic
|
|
| adj.预示灾祸的，启示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
rapture
|
|
| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
unprecedented
|
|
| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
bleated
|
|
| v.（羊，小牛）叫( bleat的过去式和过去分词 )；哭诉；发出羊叫似的声音；轻声诉说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
tune
|
|
| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
compartment
|
|
| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
justify
|
|
| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
whatsoever
|
|
| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
appreciation
|
|
| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
vocal
|
|
| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
insolence
|
|
| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
shriek
|
|
| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
pang
|
|
| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
confide
|
|
| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
miraculously
|
|
| ad.奇迹般地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
precipice
|
|
| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
unaware
|
|
| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
transparent
|
|
| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
blandly
|
|
| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
systematic
|
|
| adj.有系统的，有计划的，有方法的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
neolithic
|
|
| adj.新石器时代的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
authoritative
|
|
| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
treatise
|
|
| n.专著；(专题)论文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
monstrous
|
|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
prehistoric
|
|
| adj.（有记载的）历史以前的，史前的，古老的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
memorable
|
|
| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
wryly
|
|
| adv. 挖苦地，嘲弄地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
enigma
|
|
| n.谜，谜一样的人或事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
homage
|
|
| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
fettered
|
|
| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
audacity
|
|
| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
adroitness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
uprooted
|
|
| v.把（某物）连根拔起( uproot的过去式和过去分词 )；根除；赶走；把…赶出家园 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
mutual
|
|
| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
tarnished
|
|
| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
sincerity
|
|
| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
journalism
|
|
| n.新闻工作，报业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
compilation
|
|
| n.编译，编辑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
scrupulous
|
|
| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
yearned
|
|
| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
boon
|
|
| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
honourable
|
|
| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
shuddered
|
|
| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
beak
|
|
| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
talon
|
|
| n.爪；（如爪般的）手指；爪状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
liking
|
|
| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
instinctive
|
|
| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
secluded
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
shrubs
|
|
| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
virtuous
|
|
| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
collaborate
|
|
| vi.协作，合作；协调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
anthropological
|
|
| adj.人类学的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
slump
|
|
| n.暴跌，意气消沉，（土地）下沉；vi.猛然掉落，坍塌，大幅度下跌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
banter
|
|
| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
presumption
|
|
| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
goodwill
|
|
| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
desperately
|
|
| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
craved
|
|
| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
tugged
|
|
| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
brutality
|
|
| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
temperament
|
|
| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
averted
|
|
| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
bluff
|
|
| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
bluffed
|
|
| 以假象欺骗，吹牛( bluff的过去式和过去分词 )； 以虚张声势找出或达成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
salvation
|
|
| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
flirtation
|
|
| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
courteous
|
|
| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
chivalrous
|
|
| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
horrified
|
|
| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
exultation
|
|
| n.狂喜，得意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
accentuate
|
|
| v.着重，强调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
poetic
|
|
| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
comported
|
|
| v.表现( comport的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
intonation
|
|
| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
construed
|
|
| v.解释（陈述、行为等）( construe的过去式和过去分词 )；翻译，作句法分析 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
affront
|
|
| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
cyclonic
|
|
| adj.气旋的，飓风的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
disturbances
|
|
| n.骚乱( disturbance的名词复数 )；打扰；困扰；障碍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
adversely
|
|
| ad.有害地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
boredom
|
|
| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
attenuated
|
|
| v.（使）变细( attenuate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）变薄；（使）变小；减弱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
conspicuously
|
|
| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
malicious
|
|
| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
camaraderie
|
|
| n.同志之爱，友情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |