Outside an inn an old soldier with a wooden leg and very drunk stood wailing7 a street ballad8, both eyes shut, impervious9 to the fact that his audience had long since left him. Penhale turned into “The Angel,” went on straight into the dining-room and sat down in the far corner with the right side of his face to the wall. He did so from habit. A trio of squireens in mud-bespattered riding coats sat near the door and made considerable noise. They had been hare hunting and were rosy11 with sharp air and hard riding. They greeted every appearance of the ripe serving maid with loud whoops12 and passed her from arm to arm. She protested and giggled13. Opposite them a local shop-keeper was entertaining a creditor14 from Plymouth to the best bottle the town afforded. The company was made up by a very young ensign of Light Dragoons bound to Winchester to join his regiment15 for the first time, painfully self-conscious and aloof16, in his new scarlet17. Penhale beat on the table with his knife. The maid escaped from the festive19 sportsmen and brought him a plate of boiled beef and onions. As she was about to set the plate before him one of the hare hunters lost his balance and fell to the ground with a loud crash of his chair and a yell of delight from his companions.
The noise caused Penhale to turn his head. The girl emitted an “ach” of horror, dropped the plate on the table and recoiled20 as though some one had struck her. Penhale pulled the plate towards him, picked up his knife and fork and quietly began to eat. He was quite used to these displays. The girl backed away, staring in a sort of dreadful fascination21. A squireen caught at her wrist calling her his “sweet slut,” but she wrenched22 herself free and ran out of the door.
She did not come near Penhale again; the tapster brought him the rest of his meal. Penhale went on eating, outwardly unmoved; he had been subject to these outbursts, off and on, for eighteen years.
Eighteen years previously23 myriads24 of birds had been driven south by the hard winter upcountry. One early morning, after a particularly bitter snap, a hind25 had run in to say that the pond on Polmenna Downs, above the farm, was covered with wild duck. Penhale took an old flintlock fowling26 piece of his father’s which had been hanging neglected over the fireplace for years, and made for Polmenna, loading as he went.
As the hind had said, the pool was covered with duck. Penhale crouched27 under cover of some willows28, brought the five-foot gun to his shoulder, and blazed into the brown.
An hour later a fisherman setting rabbit snares29 in a hedge above the Luddra saw what he described as “a red man” fighting through the scrub and bramble that fringed the cliff. It was John Penhale; the gun had exploded, blowing half his face away. Penhale had no intention of throwing himself over the Luddra, he was blind with blood and pain. The fisherman led him home with difficulty, and then, being of a practical mind, returned to the pond to pick up the duck.
An old crone who had the reputation of being a “white witch” was summoned to Bosula and managed to stop the bleeding by means of incantations, cobwebs and dung—principally dung. The hind was sent on horseback to Penzance to fetch Doctor Spargo.
Doctor Spargo had been making a night of it with his friend the Collector of Customs and a stray ship captain who was peculiarly gifted in the brewing31 of rum toddies. The doctor was put to bed at dawn by his household staff, and when he was knocked up again at eleven he was not the best pleased. He bade his housekeeper32 tell the Bosula messenger that he was out—called out to a confinement33 in Morvah parish and was not expected back till evening—and turned over on his pillow.
The housekeeper returned, agitated34, to say that the messenger refused to move. He knew the doctor was in, he said; the groom35 had told him so. Furthermore if Spargo did not come to his master’s assistance without further ado he would smash every bone in his body. Doctor Spargo rolled out of bed, and opening the window treated the messenger to samples from a vocabulary enriched by a decade of army life. The messenger listened to the tirade36 unmoved and, as Doctor Spargo cursed, it was borne in on him that he had seen this outrageous37 fellow before. Presently he remembered when; he had seen him at Gwithian Feast, a canvas jacket on, tossing parish stalwarts as a terrier tosses rats. The messenger was Bohenna, the wrestler38. Doctor Spargo closed both the tirade and the window abruptly39 and bawled40 for his boots.
The pair rode westwards, the truculent41 hind cantering on the heels of the physician’s cob, laying into it with an ash plant whenever it showed symptoms of flagging. The cob tripped over a stone in Bucca’s Pass and shied at a goat near Trewoofe, on each occasion putting its master neatly42 over its head. By the time Spargo arrived at Bosula he was shaking worse than ever. He demanded more rum to steady his hand, but there was none. He pulled himself together as best he could and set to work, trembling and wheezing43.
Spargo was a retired44 army surgeon; he had served his apprenticeship45 in the shambles46 of Oudenarde and Malplaquet among soldiers who had no option but to submit to his ministrations. His idea was to patch men up so that they might fight another day, but without regard to their appearance. He sewed the tatters of John Penhale’s face together securely but roughly, pocketed his fee and rode home, gasping47, to his toddies.
John Penhale was of fine frame and hearty48. In a week or two he was out and about; in a month he had resumed the full business of the farm, but his face was not a pleasant sight. The left side was merely marked with a silvery burn on the cheek bone, but the right might have been dragged by a harrow; it was ragged49 scars from brow to chin. The eye had gone and part of an ear, the broken jaw50 had set concave and his cheek had split into a long harelip, revealing a perpetual snarl51 of teeth underneath52. He hid the eye socket53 with a black patch, but the lower part of his face he could not mask.
Three months after his accident he rode into Penzance market. If one woman squeaked54 at the sight of him so did a dozen, and children ran to their mothers blubbering that the devil had come for them. Even the men, though sympathetic, would not look him in the face, but stared at their boots while they talked and were plainly relieved when he moved away. John never went in again, unless driven by the direst necessity, and then hurried out the moment his affairs were transacted55. For despite his bulk and stoic56 bearing he was supersensitive, and the horror his appearance awoke cut him to the raw. Thus at the age of twenty-three he became a bitter recluse57, a prisoner within the bounds of his farm, Bosula, cared for by a widow and her idiot daughter, mixing only with his few hinds58 and odd farmers and fishermen that chance drove his way.
He had come to Helston on business, to hear the terms of his Aunt Selina’s will, and now that he had heard them he was eager to be quit of the place. The serving girl’s behavior had stung him like a whip lash59 and the brawling60 of the drunken squires61 jarred on his every nerve. He could have tossed the three of them out of the window if he liked, but he quailed62 at the thought of their possible mockery. They put their heads together and whispered, hiccoughing and sniggering. They were, as a fact, planning a descent on a certain lady in Pigs Street, but John Penhale was convinced that they were laughing at him. The baby ensign had a derisive63 curl in his lip, John was sure . . . he could feel the two shop-keepers’ eyes turned his way . . . it was unbearable64.
Sneers65, jeers66, laughter . . . he hated them all, everybody. He would get out, go home to Bosula, to sanctuary67. He had a sudden longing68 for Bosula, still and lonely among the folding hills . . . his own place. He drank off his ale, paid the score and went out to see what the weather was like.
The wind had chopped around easterly and the rain had stopped. The moon was up breasting through flying ridges70 of cloud like a naked white swimmer in the run of surf. Penhale found an ostler asleep on a pile of straw, roused him and told him to saddle his horse, mounted and rode westwards out of town.
He passed a lone69 pedestrian near Antron and a string of pack horses under Breage Church, but for the rest he had the road to himself. He ambled71 gently, considering the terms of his aunt’s will. She had left him her strong farm of Tregors, in the Kerrier Hundred, lock, stock and barrel, on the one condition that he married within twelve months. In default of his marrying it was to pass to her late husband’s cousin, Carveth Donnithorne, ship chandler of Falmouth.
John Penhale paid silent tribute to his aunt’s cleverness. She disliked the smug and infallible Donnithorne intensely, and in making him her next heir had passed over four nearer connections with whom she was on good terms. Her reasons for this curious conduct were that she was a Penhale by birth with intense family pride and John was the last of her line. A trivial dispute between John and Carveth over a coursing match she had fostered with all the cunning that was in her till the men’s dislike of each other amounted to plain hatred72. She knew John would do anything in his power to keep Donnithorne out of the Tregors’ rents. She would drive him into matrimony, and then, with reasonable luck, the line would go on and Penhales rule at Bosula forever and ever.
John laughed grimly at the thought of his aunt—sly old devil! She had married and left home before he was born, and he had not seen her a score of times in his life, but she was a vivid memory. He could see her now riding into Bosula, a-pillion behind one of her farm hands, her cold blue eyes taking in every detail of the yard, and hear her first words of greeting to her brother after a year’s separation.
“Jan, thou mazed73 fool, the trash wants cutting back down to Long meadow, and there’s a cow coughing—bring her in to once and I’ll physick her.”
The cow came in at once; everybody obeyed Selina without question or delay both at Bosula and Tregors. Her husband, Jabez Donnithorne, was the merest cipher74 whose existence she barely acknowledged.
On one occasion Jabez, returning very drunk from Helston market, having neglected to buy the heifers he was sent after, Selina personally chastised75 him with a broom handle and bolted him in the pig-sty for the night, where he was overlaid by a sow and suffered many indignities76. That cured Jabez.
Selina never stopped long at Bosula—three days at the most—but in that time she would have inspected the place from bound to bound, set everybody to rights, and dictated77 the policy of the farm for twelve months to come. As she had ruled her brother in boyhood she ruled him to the day of his death. She was fond of him, but only because he was head of the family. His wife she looked on merely as a machine for producing male Penhales. She would see to it that on her death Tregors fell to her family, and then, doubly endowed, the Penhales of Bosula would be squires and gentlefolk in the land.
When, after many years, John remained the only child, Selina bit back her disappointment and concentrated on the boy. She insisted on his being sent to Helston Grammar School, paid half the cost of his education, kept him in plentiful78 pocket money and saw that his clothes were of the best. He was a handsome, upstanding lad and did her credit. She was more than satisfied; he would go far, she told herself; make a great match. Then came John’s accident. Selina made no move until he was out and about again, and then rode over to assess the damage. She stalked suddenly into the kitchen one morning, surveyed the ruins of her nephew’s comely80 face, outwardly unmoved, and then stalked out again without a word of consolation81 or regret, barked instructions that her horse was to be baited and ready in two hours and turned up the hill.
Up the hill she strode, over Polmenna Downs and on to that haunt of her girlhood, the Luddra Head. Perched high on its stone brows, the west wind in her cloak and hair, she stared, rigid82 and unseeing, over the glitter of the Channel. She was back in the two hours, but her eyelids83 were red—for the last time in her life Selina had been crying.
She slept at the Angel at Helston that night, visited a certain disreputable attorney next morning and left his office with the Tregellas mortgage in her pocket.
Mr. Hugh Tregellas of Tregellas had four daughters and a mania84 for gambling85. He did not fling his substance away on horse-racing, cock or man fights—indeed he lifted up his voice loudly against the immorality86 of these pursuits—he took shares in companies formed to extract gold from sea water, in expeditions to discover the kingdom of Prester John, and such like. Any rogue87 with an oiled tongue and a project sufficiently88 preposterous89 could win a hearing from the Squire10. But though much money went out few ships came home, and the four Miss Tregellases sat in the parlor90, their dowries dwindling91 to nothing, and waited for the suitors who did not come.
All this was well known to their neighbor, Selina Donnithorne. She knew that when the four Miss Tregellases were not in the parlor playing at ladies they were down on their knee bones scrubbing floors. She even had it on sound authority that the two youngest forked out the cow-byre every morning.
She called on the Squire one afternoon, going to Tregellas in state, dressed in her best, and driving in a cabriolet she had purchased dirt cheap from a broken-down roisterer at Bodmin Assizes. She saw Mr. Tregellas in his gunless gun-room and came to the point at once. She wanted his youngest daughter for John Penhale. Mr. Tregellas flushed with anger and opened his mouth to reply, but Selina gave him no opportunity. Her nephew was already a man of moderate means, she said, living on his own good farm in the Penwith Hundred, with an income of nearly one hundred pounds per annum into the bargain. When she died he would have Tregors also. He was well educated, a fine figure of a man and sound in wind and limb, if a trifle cut about one side of the face—one side only—but then, after all these wars, who was not?
Here Mr. Tregellas managed to interpose a spluttering refusal. Selina nodded amiably92. She ventured to remind Mr. Tregellas that since Arethusina’s dowry had sunk off Cape18 St. Vincent with the Fowey privateer, God’s Providence93, her chances of a distinguished94 marriage were negligible—also that she, Selina, was now mortgagee of Tregellas and the mortgage fell due at Michaelmas.
Mr. Tregellas was a gambler. As long as there was one chance left to him, no matter how long, the future was radiant. He laughed at Selina. He had large interests in a company for trading with the King of certain South Sea atolls, he said, the lagoons95 of which were paved with pearl. It had been estimated that this enterprise could not fail to enrich him at a rate of less than eleven hundred and fifty-three per centum. A ship bearing the first fruits was expected in Bristol almost any day now, was in fact overdue96, but these nor’-easterly head winds . . . Mr. Tregellas saw Selina to the door, his good humor restored, promising97 her that long before Michaelmas he would not only be paying off the mortgage on Tregellas, but offering her a price for Tregors as well.
Selina rocked home in her cabriolet no whit30 perturbed98 by the Squire’s optimism. Nor’-easterly head winds, indeed! . . .
Three months from that date Mr. Tregellas returned the call. Selina was feeding ducks in the yard when he came. She emptied her apron99, led the Squire into the kitchen and gave him a glass of cowslip wine—which he needed.
“Come to offer me a price for Tregors?” she asked.
The old gambler blinked his weak eyes pathetically, like a child blinking back tears, and buried his face in his hands. Selina did not twit him further. There was no need. She had him where she wanted him. She smiled to herself. So the pearl ship had gone the deep road of the Fowey privateer—and all the other ventures. She clicked her tongue, “Tchuc—tchuc!” and offered him another glass of wine.
“I’ll send for John Penhale to-morrow,” said she. “I’ll tell him that if he don’t take your maid he shan’t have Tregors. You tell your maid if she don’t take my John I’ll put you all out on the road come Michaelmas. Now get along wid ’ee.”
Arethusina came over to Tregors to pay Mrs. Donnithorne a week’s visit, and John was angled from his retreat by the bait of a roan colt he had long coveted100 and which his aunt suddenly expressed herself willing to sell.
The sun was down when he reached the farm; Selina met him in the yard, and leading him swiftly into the stables explained the lay of the land while he unsaddled his horse, but she did not tell him what pressure had been brought to bear on the youngest Miss Tregellas.
John was amazed and delighted. Mr. Hugh Tregellas’ daughter willing to marry him, a common farmer! Pretty too; he had seen her once, before his accident, sitting in the family pew in Cury church—plump, fluffy101 little thing with round blue eyes, like a kitten. This was incredible luck!
He was young then and hot-blooded, sick of the loneliness of Bosula and the haphazard102 ministrations of the two slatterns. He was for dashing into the house and starting his love-making there and then, but Selina held him, haggling103 like a fish wife over the price of the roan. When he at length got away from her it was thick dusk. It was dark in the kitchen, except for the feeble glow of the turf fire, Selina explaining that she had unaccountably run out of tallow dips—the boy should fetch some from Helston on the morrow.
Arethusina came downstairs dressed in her eldest104 sister’s bombazine dress, borrowed for the occasion. She was not embarrassed; she, like John, was eager for change, weary of the threadbare existence and unending struggle at home, of watching her sisters grow warped105 and bitter. She saw ahead, saw four gray old women, dried kernels106 rattling107 in the echoing shell of Tregellas House, never speaking, hating each other and all things, doddering on to the blank end, four gray nuns108 cloistered109 by granite110 pride. Anything were better than that. She would sob111 off to sleep swearing to take any chance rather than come to that, and here was a chance. John Penhale stood for life full and flowing in place of want and decay. He might only be a yeoman, but he would have two big farms and could keep her in comfort. She would have children, she hoped, silk dresses and a little lap dog. Some day she might even visit London.
She entered the kitchen in good heart and saw John standing79 before the fire, a vague but imposing112 silhouette113. A fine figure of a man, she thought, and her heart lifted still higher. She dropped him a mischievous114 curtsey. He took her hand, laughing, a deep, pleasant laugh. They sat on the settle at the back of the kitchen and got on famously.
John had barely spoken to any sort of woman for a year, leave alone a pretty woman; he thought her wonderful. Arethusina had not seen a presentable man for double that period; all her stored coquetry bubbled out. John was only twenty-four, the girl but nineteen; they were like two starved children sitting down to a square meal.
The brass-studded grandfather clock tick-tocked, in its corner; the yellow house cat lay crouched on the hearth115 watching the furze kindling116 for mice; Selina nodded in her rocker before the fire, subconsciously117 keeping time with the beats of the clock. A whinny of treble laughter came from the settle, followed by John’s rumbling118 bass119, then whisperings.
Selina beamed at her vis-à-vis, the yellow cat. She was elated at the success of her plans. It had been a good idea to let the girl get to know John before she could see him. The blow would be softened120 when morning came. In Selina’s experience obstacles that appeared insurmountable at night dwindled121 to nothing in the morning light; one came at them with a fresh heart. She was pleased with Arethusina. The girl was healthy, practical and ambitious—above all, ambitious. She might not be able to do much with John, marred122 as he was, but their children would get all the advantages of the mother’s birth, Selina was sure. The chariot of the Penhales would roll onwards, steered123 by small, strong hands.
She glanced triumphantly124 at the pair on the settle and curled her thin lips. Then she rose quietly and slipped off to bed. The yellow cat remained, waiting its prey125. Arethusina and John did not notice Selina’s departure, they were engrossed126 in each other. The girl had the farmer at her finger ends and enjoyed the experience; she played on his senses as on a keyboard. He loomed127 above her on the settle, big, eager, boyish, with a passionate128 break in his laughter. She kept him guessing, yielded and retreated in turn, thrilled to feel how easily he responded to her flying moods. What simpletons men were!—and what fun!
John shifted nearer up the settle, his great hot hand closed timorously129 over hers; she snatched it free and drew herself up.
“La! sir, you forget yourself, I think. I will beg you to remember I am none of your farm wenches! I—I . . .” She shook with indignation.
John trembled; he had offended, lost her. . . . O fool! He tried to apologize and stuttered ridiculously. He had lost her! The prospect130 of facing a lifetime without this delectable131 creature, on whom he had not bestowed132 a moment’s thought three hours before, suddenly became intolerable. He bit his nails with rage at his impetuosity. So close beside him, yet gone forever! Had she gone already? Melted into air? . . . A dream after all? He glanced sideways. No, she was still there; he could see the dim pallor of her face and neck against the darkness, the folds of the bombazine dress billowing out over the edge of the settle like a great flower.
A faint sweet waft133 of perfume touched his nostrils134. Something stirred beside him; he looked down. Her hand . . . her hand was creeping back up the settle towards him! He heard a sound and looked up again; she was crying! . . . Stay, was she crying? No, by the Lord in heaven she was not; she was laughing! In a flash he was on his feet, had crushed her in his arms, as though to grasp the dear dream before it could fade, and hold it to him forever. He showered kisses on her mouth, throat, forehead—anywhere. She did not resist, but turned her soft face up to his, laughing still. Tregors and Bosula were safe, safe for both of them and all time.
At that moment the yellow cat sprang, and in so doing toppled a clump135 of furze kindling over the embers. The dry bush caught and flared136, roaring, up the chimney. The kitchen turned in a second from black to red, and John felt the youngest Miss Tregellas go suddenly rigid in his arms, her blue eyes stared at him big with horror, her full lips were drawn137 tight and colorless across her clenched138 teeth. He kissed her once more, but it was like kissing the dead.
Then she came to life, struggled frantically139, battered140 at his mouth with both fists, giving little “Oh! Ohs!” like a trapped animal mad with pain. He let her go, amazed.
She fled across the kitchen, crashing against the table in her blind hurry, whipped round, stared at him again and then ran upstairs, panting and sobbing141. He heard the bolt of her door click, and then noises as though she was piling furniture against it.
John turned about, still amazed, and jumped back startled. Who was that? . . . that ghoul’s mask lit by flickers142 of red flame, snarling143 across the room? Then he remembered it was himself of course, himself in the old round mirror. After his accident he had smashed every looking-glass at home and had forgotten what he looked like. . . . During the few hours of fool’s paradise he had forgotten about his face altogether . . . supposed the girl knew . . . had been told. The fatal furze bush burnt out, leaving him in merciful darkness.
John opened the door, stumbled across to the stable, saddled his horse and, riding hard, was at Bosula with dawn.
When the farm girl went to call Arethusina next morning she found the room empty and the bed had not been slept in. Selina sent to the Squire at once, but the youngest Miss Tregellas had not returned. They discovered her eventually in an old rab pit halfway144 between the two houses, her neck broken; she had fallen over the edge in the dark. It was supposed she was trying to find her way home.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
drizzle
|
|
| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
shutters
|
|
| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
misty
|
|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
puddles
|
|
| n.水坑， （尤指道路上的）雨水坑( puddle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
clattered
|
|
| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
wailing
|
|
| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
ballad
|
|
| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
impervious
|
|
| adj.不能渗透的，不能穿过的，不易伤害的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
squire
|
|
| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
whoops
|
|
| int.呼喊声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
giggled
|
|
| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
creditor
|
|
| n.债仅人，债主，贷方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
regiment
|
|
| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
aloof
|
|
| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
cape
|
|
| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
festive
|
|
| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
recoiled
|
|
| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
fascination
|
|
| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
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： |
|
|
|
|
23
previously
|
|
| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
myriads
|
|
| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
hind
|
|
| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
fowling
|
|
| 捕鸟，打鸟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
crouched
|
|
| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
willows
|
|
| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
snares
|
|
| n.陷阱( snare的名词复数 )；圈套；诱人遭受失败（丢脸、损失等）的东西；诱惑物v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
whit
|
|
| n.一点，丝毫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
brewing
|
|
| n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
housekeeper
|
|
| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
confinement
|
|
| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
groom
|
|
| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
tirade
|
|
| n.冗长的攻击性演说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
outrageous
|
|
| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
wrestler
|
|
| n.摔角选手，扭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
bawled
|
|
| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
truculent
|
|
| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
wheezing
|
|
| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的现在分词 )；哮鸣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
apprenticeship
|
|
| n.学徒身份；学徒期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
shambles
|
|
| n.混乱之处；废墟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
gasping
|
|
| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
jaw
|
|
| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
snarl
|
|
| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
underneath
|
|
| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
socket
|
|
| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
squeaked
|
|
| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
transacted
|
|
| v.办理（业务等）( transact的过去式和过去分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
stoic
|
|
| n.坚忍克己之人，禁欲主义者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
recluse
|
|
| n.隐居者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
hinds
|
|
| n.（常指动物腿）后面的( hind的名词复数 )；在后的；（通常与can或could连用）唠叨不停；滔滔不绝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
lash
|
|
| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
brawling
|
|
| n.争吵，喧嚷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
squires
|
|
| n.地主，乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
quailed
|
|
| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
derisive
|
|
| adj.嘲弄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
unbearable
|
|
| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
sneers
|
|
| 讥笑的表情（言语）( sneer的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
jeers
|
|
| 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 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
sanctuary
|
|
| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
lone
|
|
| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
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： |
|
|
|
|
71
ambled
|
|
| v.（马）缓行( amble的过去式和过去分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
mazed
|
|
| 迷惘的，困惑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
cipher
|
|
| n.零；无影响力的人；密码 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
chastised
|
|
| v.严惩（某人）（尤指责打）( chastise的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
indignities
|
|
| n.侮辱，轻蔑( indignity的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
dictated
|
|
| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
plentiful
|
|
| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
comely
|
|
| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
consolation
|
|
| n.安慰，慰问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
rigid
|
|
| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
eyelids
|
|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
mania
|
|
| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
gambling
|
|
| n.赌博；投机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
immorality
|
|
| n. 不道德, 无道义 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
rogue
|
|
| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
preposterous
|
|
| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
parlor
|
|
| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
dwindling
|
|
| adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
amiably
|
|
| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
lagoons
|
|
| n.污水池( lagoon的名词复数 )；潟湖；（大湖或江河附近的）小而浅的淡水湖；温泉形成的池塘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
overdue
|
|
| adj.过期的，到期未付的；早该有的，迟到的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
promising
|
|
| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
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： |
|
|
|
|
99
apron
|
|
| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
coveted
|
|
| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
fluffy
|
|
| adj.有绒毛的，空洞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
haphazard
|
|
| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
haggling
|
|
| v.讨价还价( haggle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
eldest
|
|
| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
warped
|
|
| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
kernels
|
|
| 谷粒( kernel的名词复数 )； 仁； 核； 要点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
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： |
|
|
|
|
108
nuns
|
|
| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
cloistered
|
|
| adj.隐居的，躲开尘世纷争的v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
granite
|
|
| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
sob
|
|
| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
imposing
|
|
| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
silhouette
|
|
| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
mischievous
|
|
| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
hearth
|
|
| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
kindling
|
|
| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
subconsciously
|
|
| ad.下意识地，潜意识地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
rumbling
|
|
| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
bass
|
|
| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
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： |
|
|
|
|
121
dwindled
|
|
| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
marred
|
|
| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
steered
|
|
| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
triumphantly
|
|
| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
engrossed
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
loomed
|
|
| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
timorously
|
|
| adv.胆怯地，羞怯地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
delectable
|
|
| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
bestowed
|
|
| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
waft
|
|
| v.飘浮，飘荡；n.一股；一阵微风；飘荡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
nostrils
|
|
| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
clump
|
|
| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
Flared
|
|
| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
clenched
|
|
| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
frantically
|
|
| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
battered
|
|
| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
sobbing
|
|
| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
flickers
|
|
| 电影制片业； （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
snarling
|
|
| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
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： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |