The bee-line which he was making took him, first, past the Rugby posts—mere symbols of a departed game—and here he struck the broad pathway along the outskirts4 of the playing fields. Where the way branched into two he came to Seymour’s, and he would have passed that tall house at his best speed, cutting the night air like a land yacht, had not a sudden clamour of excited voices, raised in consummate5 confusion, floated down to him from an upstairs window and distracted his attention. So he stopped and he looked and he listened.
The bright light in a window immediately above him, evidently that of a study, indicated without doubt the source of the commotion7. For a little 244while he stood, his head thrown back, peering curiously8 towards it. There was no law against a light in a senior’s study at nine o’clock, but there could be no excuse for such disorder9 as was evidenced by those so wildly contesting voices.
At last he made up his mind. Enthusiasm prompted him to hasten upon his way, but allegiance to the dogma of unexpectedness was too strong. He glanced round him once, then fixed10 the front door with protuberant11 eyes, lifted the latch12 and went in. If Mr Seymour was out visiting some colleague, the occasion called for action on his own part. It might well be that this most memorable13 evening would grant him an all-round victory over the school on points.
He could not have chosen a more sensational moment to appear.
As he reached the bottom of the stairs a young man came dancing down. It may be that those who had been watching and who would have followed had peeped over the banisters in time and had withdrawn14 to make good their escape, but this one young man was in that condition in which loneliness is as nothing. He was singing raucously16, and his manner of descent was like that of a low comedian17 on a sliding staircase. His hair was tangled18 and his countenance19 was flushed to fever heat.
The Head had drawn15 back as if in preparation for a suitably sudden appearance from the wings, but instead he slowly drew himself now to his full height. As if at one touch of a magic wand Hard Roe suddenly ceased to look merely a silly old man. He was transformed into a lonely monarch20 in a terrible predicament. His rather grim face suddenly aged21 to that of a man who has faced all weathers and seen all things. The look that came into his eyes whilst he watched was not now merely one of anger or contempt; 245all thoughts had fled from his mind and left him cold and stricken, and his stare was testimony22 to the power of unexpectedness.
The young man was his son.
Time passed on leaden wings.
His son had stumbled once on the bottom stair and had swung forward towards the wall. As he righted himself Hard Roe moved out of the shadows to meet him, and they came face to face. At first the young man did not seem to comprehend the grim reality of it. He just stood swaying upon his heels and smiling at the old man kindly23. Next he broke into cackling laughter.
“I can’t help it,” he confessed. “I’m—I’m drunk.”
Hard Roe threw out his hand and clutched him by the shoulder.
“Stand up! You are my son.”
Roe made a belated attempt to look apologetic.
“Where have you been? Why are you like this?”
He was speaking through clenched25 teeth and his arms were trembling with the force of his passion. But there came only an unresponsive silence. If there is one particular phase of drunkenness at which one may best appreciate the beastliness of it, then it is at that moment when one perceives the subject looking around him as if in search of a convenient spot in which to be sick.
The Head removed his hands and they fell weightily to his sides. He began to jerk words incredulously at his son, as if his power of speech was somehow dislocated.
“You understand—you understand. You are the Headmaster’s son. You are captain of football. You came as an example to them. I——”
His passion slowly subsided26. He began to grow 246hard and isolated27, impregnable. Once he heard a hurried scuffling upstairs as if someone were hiding away all traces of carousal28 and vanishing quickly from the scene. Now the whole house was very still. He had an implicit29 belief that even if the banisters were not lined with the heads of inquisitive30 boys, at least every member of the house was listening at an open door, and he knew that they would be wondering what Hard Roe would do at this, the crisis of his life. He knew that he must not hesitate. He gave his son a final shaking.
“Have you no explanation at all?” he begged. “Have you nothing whatever to say to me?”
The boy could find no proper answer. His eyes were closing sleepily. He had propped31 himself against the banisters. The final exhilaration that had sent him downstairs in that eccentric dance had deserted32 him, and a feeling of giddy biliousness33 had come in its place. He shook his head with a comical slantwise motion.
Above the many conflicting emotions in his mind now the Head remembered his reputation. Throughout his life, whenever he had been in doubt, facing two roads, he had taken always that way which he felt he would not be expected to take. Now the unexpected had, in its turn, come upon him with a rush. Once again two ways lay open to him, and he knew now that the way which would be the unexpected way would be a way that was terribly hard, albeit34 absolutely just.
He suddenly tilted35 up his chin. A glare of dour36 pugnacity37 had settled upon his features as if in token of decision. Then at last he spoke38, and his voice was resolute39 and even.
“There is one law in this school, and I show no favour. It was you that I brought here as an example to a school which knew no discipline. Now it is as an example that I shall have to send you away. 247You are expelled. To-morrow you leave this school in disgrace.”
He stopped.
In all the house there was not one solitary40 creak. The silence was absolutely cold and merciless. And then at last a footstep sounded in the portico41. Mr Seymour was coming in. The Head turned and looked at him with a lofty dignity. It was as if he wanted the position to be perfectly42 clear to the other before he spoke. Then when Mr Seymour had looked dazedly43 first at the boy and then at the Head, Hard Roe spoke up.
“Please have this boy taken to bed at once,” he said gently. “I have expelled him. To-morrow he will leave the school.”
He moved to the open door and, reaching it, passed out, whilst Mr Seymour still stood looking fixedly44 at the boy as if he could not believe his eyes.
He went out into the dark with his head a little bowed and his hands tight clasped again behind his gown. So he made his way slowly back towards the distant school, and now the night seemed very chill. There was no longer any attraction in seeking Rouse. Rouse was saved. Hard Roe’s part at Harley was played. The last act was done.
It might very well have ended in his son leaving with him, proudly and almost in disdain45. That could not be now. Had he allowed his boy to stay on to the end of term and then to leave quietly whilst he expelled Rouse, the name of Roe would have stood for ever in disrepute. It was his duty to do all in his power to save that name. However keenly the school disliked his character, they would know now that he had at least been true to it at the crisis of his life. His prophecy would perhaps come true.
It might, after all, be the outstanding boldness of his last act by which the school would ever afterwards remember him. He had very nearly forgotten 248how badly he had wanted that to be so a short while back.
At last the Head passed through the old oak door again and back into his own room. Then it was as though the veil of night fell gently over the confines of the school. Here and there, in the haunts of the privileged, lights still glittered for an hour or so, showing that some were still up and about in Harley; but in the houses and the body of the school they vanished one by one, as if the gusty46 wind were scurrying47 on its rounds and looking in at windows to blow them out.
A full hour passed before the figure of one who was weary and inordinately48 cold appeared with decided49 caution at the little gate beside the school pavilion and, climbing over, began to trudge50 disappointedly along the line of trees right round the outskirts of the playing fields towards Morley’s. It was Rouse, and he had both hands rammed52 into his trouser pockets and the collar of his coat turned up around his neck. There was an atmosphere about the school that was unusually lonely, and he felt it. His errand had proved utterly53 fruitless. He had no particular idea how he was going to get in again. He missed the company of Terence. His intention to keep in the shadows was taking him a long way round and he was in no mood to enjoy the walk. Altogether things were rotten. At last he came to Morley’s and stopped to look up for a moment at the forbidding walls. Then he moved with a kind of ill-humoured curiosity to the hall window. There came back to him the memory of a night of long ago when he and Terence had as youngsters crouched54 below that selfsame window to find themselves locked out, and how at last a small boy had tiptoed down the stairs to their rescue, had opened the window without a word and let them in, and had then gone peaceably 249to bed. That small boy had been Henry Hope.
Rouse gazed at the window now with the affection of an old friend. Terence must surely have made some plan to effect his entry without his having to ring the front-door bell. His hand reached out and passed cautiously across the window-pane. Then he seized the framework and tried it gingerly. Without a moment’s delay there came the sound of a gentle movement within, and he perceived a long arm reaching towards him behind the glass. Next the window was slowly raised and a tousled head of hair was thrust out into the night. Rouse raised himself on to his toes and inclined his body forward.
“Don’t make too much row. Has anybody seen you? Have you had any luck?”
Rouse levered himself on to the window-sill and poised56 there miserably57 for a moment before he answered, and even then he did not speak. He just shook his head dismally58 and scrambled59 in. And then he sneezed.
Terence seized him in a steely grip and thrust a handkerchief violently into his face. But Rouse freed himself vexedly, listened a moment for any sign of alarm, and then proceeded, in the time-honoured manner of all who keep late hours, to remove his boots.
He turned once before beginning to climb the staircase and looked thoughtfully through the darkness at the shape that was Terence.
“You have not,” said he softly, “such a thing as a hot drink concealed60 about your person, I presume?”
Terence slowly lowered the window and secured it with the latch. When he turned he shook his head regretfully.
“Thank you,” whispered Rouse. “That’s all I wanted to know.”
250Next moment he was making his way nimbly upstairs. Terence looked round him once, then followed after. The warmth of a bed had become a strangely appealing thought.
For two hours Harley had slumbered61. The last good-nights had all been said. The last lights had been snuffed. Only the great clock over the school, vigilantly62 marking time like the ghost of some soldier of the king, was still awake and looking far out into the country, when a car came droning down the highroad, branched along the fork that led past the playing fields and stopped beside the school pavilion. There was a moment’s muttered conversation, then out of the car stepped Toby Nicholson. He turned once to the small figure wrapped in rugs that was still reclining in a corner.
“You understand?” he said. “Wait here till I’ve spied out the lie of the land. Then I’ll come back and fetch you. I may be some little time, but you must wait.”
Bobbie nodded his head obediently, and Toby turned and scrambled over the narrow gate into the school grounds. Off he set along the line of the trees, stepping, had he but known it, almost in the very footprints that Rouse had left in his tracks. He went swiftly, and at times, with a furtive63 glance around him, he left the shadows and slipped across the open to cut a corner. At last he came to Seymour’s and here he stopped, just as Rouse had stopped at Morley’s, and glanced up at the windows. Everywhere the blinds were drawn. There was not one solitary light. He had expected as much, and now he had to come swiftly to a decision. By hook or by crook64 he intended to get into the house and rouse Mr Seymour. There were several ways and means. He could ring the bell or batter65 upon the door with his clenched fists until he was answered. He could 251throw stones at windows. These methods would, however, necessarily excite undue66 commotion, and this Toby determined67 to avoid. Since nothing much could be accomplished68 before morning by those within, there existed the alternative, of course, of camping out under the trees until the first greyness of the dawn broke through the night, and surreptitiously slipping Bobbie into the house at the first opening of the door, if necessary with the connivance69 of a servant. On a winter’s night this solution was, however, emphatically inconvenient70. There remained, therefore, the only really sound means of entry, that of the break-in. Without any great hesitation71 Toby decided upon this latter. He had once committed a burglary for the benefit of the cinema, and he saw no valid72 reason why he should not break into Mr Seymour’s bedroom for the benefit of the school. He cast an inquisitive eye at the window behind which Mr Seymour would be sleeping, and considered the question of the ascent73. Mr Seymour was a quiet, rather faded gentleman who affected74 a hat-guard all the year round and who looked upon school life from the scholarly rather than the magisterial75 standpoint. Above all, he hated to be bothered.
Somewhere within him Toby cherished a distinct affection for this old-fashioned gentleman, and he was aware that this was reciprocated76. To how great an extent, however, this esteem77 would be affected by his entering the gentleman’s room by the window at one A.M. he did not care to surmise78. He made a brief inspection79, then secured a firm hold on the drain-pipe, collected a bunch of ivy80 in the other hand, and commenced to climb. At first his progress was slow. By skilful81 work he nevertheless rose foot by foot until he at last reached a window on the first floor parallel with Mr Seymour’s own. He swung on to this window-ledge and gravely considered 252the prospect82 of his being able to move sideways across the face of the wall. So far as he could see there was only one practicable route. He must climb to the story next above, make use of the attic83 window-ledge, and swing from here to the window immediately above his destination. From here he could drop from his hands and land neatly84 and daintily, like the falling petal85 of a flower, upon Mr Seymour’s window-sill. This he did with delightful86 grace.
Five minutes later the blade of his pocket-knife was moving gently between the upper and lower halves of the window, and after a moment’s work he had pushed the catch carefully aside. He paused then for a moment, like the look-out in the crow’s nest of a ship, to gaze down and take in the surrounding view. For the first time in his life he was clinging to the wall of a house in the loneliest hour of the night and about to break into a gentleman’s apartment. He sighed happily as a man will who delights in new experiences, turned inwards and slowly raised the lower half of the window. Then he stepped into the room and sat down on the inner window-ledge. The blast of cold air which his entry had introduced had an almost immediate6 effect in a noise of pronounced discontent from the recesses87 of the room. As his eyes grew used to the dark he dimly perceived a long arm reaching a bunch of blanket and drawing it gratefully about the pillow. Toby collected himself for discovery. The terrifying thought flashed through his mind that he might possibly have come to the wrong room. Supposing that by some freak of Fate Mr Seymour chanced to have changed his quarters during the last few days? He cast a hurried glance at his only means of escape, then steeled himself for the worst and spoke:
“Mr Seymour.”
At first there was no reply. It was difficult to 253know, however, whether this was because Mr Seymour was not yet awake or whether he was endeavouring to decide what to say in reply. At last Toby repeated his salutation.
“What?” said he. “Oh, please—for goodness’ sake do shut that door.”
Toby considerately closed the window.
“May I switch on the light?” he inquired. “Shall I fall over anything?”
“Whatever is it?” sighed Mr Seymour. “Put on the light, yes. Really, I—— Who is it wants me? I——”
Toby stumbled across the room, cannoned90 violently into the bed and, reaching the switch, at last flooded the room with light. As he did so he explained himself briefly91:
“It’s me—Nicholson.”
Mr Seymour peered at him dazedly.
“Nicholson? Why, yes, I see it is. But how very odd. Do you know, I quite thought you’d gone away. Quite. I must have been dreaming. How very strange.”
Toby approached and sat down pleasantly on the bed.
“I did go away,” he confessed. “But you know how a felon92 always returns to the scene of his crime. As a matter of fact, I have just come in through the window.”
He paused a moment as if to allow this information to sink well in. Mr Seymour took the news oddly. He just sat up in bed and looked as if he were about to weep.
“What time is it?” he demanded. “Dear me, how troublesome a night! It seems only a few minutes ago that I was having a boy put to bed. Whatever is it now?”
254Toby leaned over him.
“Were all your boys present to-night?” he inquired. “Was anybody reported missing?”
“Really, I can hardly say. So much has been happening to-night. No doubt you have not yet heard——”
Toby waved the point aside.
“I may have done you a good turn. I hope so, anyway. One of the youngsters in your house has been bullied94 into getting whisky for someone amongst your seniors, and at last he’s kicked. So this evening he ran away.”
“Good gracious me!” exclaimed the other, “who’s run away? Why, only this evening I have had——”
“Fortunately,” said Toby, pressing on hastily, “I came across him myself and I have been able to lead him back to the fold. It may be in time for you to take this matter of the whisky in hand yourself before anything comes out about it.”
Mr Seymour rose a little farther out of his bed and pointed51 at Toby excitedly. He was suddenly very wide awake.
“You say this boy ran away? I am not surprised. This evening a boy was found in this house drunk, and he was expelled.”
“Yes.”
“Who was the boy?”
“It was his own son,” said Mr Seymour, and drawing himself completely out of bed he began to feel for his slippers96. Suddenly he looked up with a jerk.
Toby was still staring at him thoughtfully.
“He found his own son drunk?”
“Yes.”
“And nobody else?”
255“Apparently not,” said Mr Seymour. He stood up. “Nicholson,” he demanded, “who is this boy? And,” he added, “how on earth did you get into this house?”
“His name is Carr,” said Toby. “And I came in via the window. I crawled up the wall.”
Mr Seymour approached the window, looked at it incredulously, then opened the lower half and peered out.
“It is a nasty drop,” he declared.
Toby moved to the window and stood beside him.
“Yes,” said he. “It looks worse from here. Nevertheless that is how I got in. Those pieces of cloth you see there hanging on nails amongst the ivy are pieces of my trousers. In other words, you have been burgled.”
“But why on earth didn’t you ring the bell?”
Toby tapped him upon the shoulder.
“The boy who ran away is outside in a car. I thought you would rather we got him in without attracting attention.”
“But, goodness me,” said the other, “a number of boys in the house will know that he was out. What will be the excuse?”
“The other boys in the house,” said Toby, “know a great deal more about what’s been going on than you do. You can bet your life on that. And after this evening’s little entertainment there won’t be many who won’t understand the truth. My advice to you is to let him come in and go to bed without a word. You yourself need know nothing about it.”
“The reason I say this,” Toby explained, “is that it means a lot to the school if we can come through this term without the spirit having been knocked out of any single boy by the Head’s idea of 256justice. It won’t be quite so satisfactory if this youngster should be found out. It’s the last lap, too, Seymour. In another ten days term will be over.”
He paused.
“There will be another term following after,” said Mr Seymour gloomily.
Toby nodded his head.
“Yes,” he admitted; “but it will not be quite the same. Next term the Grey Man is coming back.”
He smiled. Mr Seymour gazed at him with open mouth.
“Are you sure?”
“I saw him yesterday,” said Toby. “But it is better that the school as a whole should not know just yet. If one thing rather than another would send Harley completely off its head just now it would be the rumour98 that the Headmaster was defeated and that the Grey Man was coming back. Well, we must play fair. There is something about the Head that at times makes him almost likeable in his loneliness. Now the only ally that he had has let him down and the Head’s done the right thing by expelling him. There will be hard days coming for the Head, and, after all, you and I are masters and have a master’s point of view. I fancy the Head knows his fate already, but I think that we ought to respect his position to the end. It’s up to us to let him break the news when he feels ready. Don’t you think so?”
Mr Seymour nodded his head.
“It makes a difference,” said he. “I had always rather looked upon you as an Old Boy pure and simple, Nicholson. But I see now that there is a little of something else in your composition as well. If you will go out and fetch this boy I will see that he gets in by the front door.”
257Toby held out his hand.
“I hope you’ll forgive me getting in by the window,” he said. “It was the only way. I’ll go out by the door now, though, and leave it unbolted for Carr. I shall see you again soon.”
“You will be coming back?”
“I am starting again next term,” said Toby. “See you then.”
With morning sensation came like a dust-storm to sweep Harley in its whirl and leave her spinning. The whole of Roe’s own house, of course, knew overnight. Those who had been asleep were violently awakened99 to be told. And in the morning the members of Seymour’s spread out fanwise and ran through the other houses before their breakfast, carrying the news.
At morning prayers there was some kind of hope that the Head would make an announcement revoking100 his selection of a football captain, and perhaps even acknowledging the claims of Rouse, but instead he came in without an indication of any kind that anything was untoward101 and faced them. His eyes roamed round the sea of their upturned faces. He noticed Rouse in the forefront, but Rouse did not look his way. Next his eyes turned upon the rebels of the Sixth lined up beneath his dais, each in a most devout102 and learned attitude, and finally he turned to Pointon and jerked his head at him. So Pointon’s voice broke the silence at last as he began to read.
When, later, the moment came for the Head to walk down the aisle103 between them, his gown majestically104 swinging, and to pass through the open doors before their shuffling105 dismissal to their classes could begin, he walked with a quick and irritable106 step, and it was not until he had reached the quiet of his own room that he remembered one saving thought in his bitter sorrow. They did not yet know that he 258himself would, at the end of term, leave them in triumphant107 possession of their own unwritten laws.
One master and one boy were, as we know, in the secret, but the boy had honourably108 promised not to speak of it to anyone in the school, not even to Rouse or Terence or Henry Hope.
“It is not your secret,” Toby had said. “You have stumbled upon it, and so it is not yours to tell.”
In Seymour’s they had looked at Bobbie curiously in the morning, and a great many boys of his own age had gathered about him to satisfy their curiosity by asking questions. But he had smiled at them and shaken his head.
“I went out for someone and I was late back,” was all he would say; “but I got in all right.”
For the rest, he let their imagination carry them where it would. Rouse came upon him and he too would have begun to question, but Bobbie gave him a note from Toby and this appeared to afford him wholesome109 satisfaction.
For a little while those who knew that Roe had found a friend in Coles wondered what part he had played in Roe’s downfall, and indeed curiosity as to which other boys from somewhere behind the scenes had really been responsible for his own son’s defection troubled the Head himself; but the awe110 in which he held his father effectually prevented Roe from turning King’s evidence. He went quietly, with abashed111 mien112, intensely annoyed with his father for ever having fetched him from Wilton to become a puppet at Harley. Afterwards Hard Roe seemed almost to forget the incident, for he asked no questions of anybody in the school. It may well be that in certain respects his sense of pride was satisfied by the certainty that his iron justice would live in the memory of the boys he would leave at Harley long after he had gone, and that for this reason he preferred to 259leave things entirely113 as they were. By digging deeper into the mystery and dragging to light whatever other miscreants114 there were in Seymour’s he would seem to be finding excuses for his son by sweeping115 away a handful of other boys as bad as he on the grounds that they had led him astray, when his one expulsion would have all the effect that was necessary in curing the evil by making an example of the chief wrong-doer.
He had a distaste for excuses of any kind. His son should have been strong enough to stand alone. Instead he had sinned, and he could not pardon his son for drinking whisky on the grounds that another boy had given it to him.
Coles lived in considerable anxiety during those last long days, because he was unaware116 of the Head’s real attitude and quite uncertain whether, before he left, Roe had given him away.
“If you breathe so much as a word of this,” he had said, “I’ll tell your secret too, and all the school shall know that a low professional pug has sent his brat118 to a school for the sons of gentlemen. Not only that. If you let me down I’ll see that your life here is a never-ending nightmare. Are you going to promise?”
“I don’t see any need to promise,” said Bobbie, “but I’ll do so if you like.”
Coles shook his fist angrily.
“I shall hold you to it,” he declared. “One word, and you’ll wish you’d been born dumb.”
Bobbie turned and left him. After all, there was nobody he would need to tell—now.
The last few days of term passed slowly. The most sensational thing that could have come about had happened. That which followed was only aftermath. To the last day they did not know how 260completely they had won the long fight, nor guess that when Hard Roe stood in the great hall and spoke to them of their Christmas holidays in a quiet and unemotional voice he was in reality bidding them good-bye.
He had not altogether the bearing of a man who had failed. It was rather that of a man who knew that he would leave his mark.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
roe
|
|
| n.鱼卵；獐鹿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
sensational
|
|
| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
rustling
|
|
| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
outskirts
|
|
| n.郊外，郊区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
consummate
|
|
| adj.完美的；v.成婚；使完美 [反]baffle | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
commotion
|
|
| n.骚动，动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
disorder
|
|
| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
protuberant
|
|
| adj.突出的，隆起的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
latch
|
|
| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
memorable
|
|
| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
withdrawn
|
|
| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
raucously
|
|
| adv.粗声地；沙哑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
comedian
|
|
| n.喜剧演员；滑稽演员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
tangled
|
|
| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
monarch
|
|
| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
aged
|
|
| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
testimony
|
|
| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
savagely
|
|
| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
clenched
|
|
| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
subsided
|
|
| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
isolated
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
carousal
|
|
| n.喧闹的酒会 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
29
implicit
|
|
| a.暗示的，含蓄的，不明晰的，绝对的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
inquisitive
|
|
| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
propped
|
|
| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
biliousness
|
|
| [医] 胆汁质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
34
albeit
|
|
| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
tilted
|
|
| v. 倾斜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
dour
|
|
| adj.冷酷的，严厉的；（岩石）嶙峋的；顽强不屈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
pugnacity
|
|
| n.好斗，好战 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
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： |
|
|
|
|
39
resolute
|
|
| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
portico
|
|
| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
dazedly
|
|
| 头昏眼花地，眼花缭乱地，茫然地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
fixedly
|
|
| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
disdain
|
|
| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
gusty
|
|
| adj.起大风的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
scurrying
|
|
| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
inordinately
|
|
| adv.无度地，非常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
trudge
|
|
| v.步履艰难地走；n.跋涉，费力艰难的步行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
rammed
|
|
| v.夯实（土等）( ram的过去式和过去分词 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
crouched
|
|
| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
hoarse
|
|
| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
poised
|
|
| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
miserably
|
|
| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
dismally
|
|
| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
scrambled
|
|
| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
slumbered
|
|
| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
vigilantly
|
|
| adv.警觉地，警惕地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
furtive
|
|
| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
crook
|
|
| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
batter
|
|
| v.接连重击；磨损；n.牛奶面糊；击球员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
undue
|
|
| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
connivance
|
|
| n.纵容；默许 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
inconvenient
|
|
| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
hesitation
|
|
| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
valid
|
|
| adj.有确实根据的；有效的；正当的，合法的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
ascent
|
|
| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
magisterial
|
|
| adj.威风的，有权威的；adv.威严地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
reciprocated
|
|
| v.报答，酬答( reciprocate的过去式和过去分词 )；（机器的部件）直线往复运动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
esteem
|
|
| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
surmise
|
|
| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
inspection
|
|
| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
ivy
|
|
| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
skilful
|
|
| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
attic
|
|
| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
petal
|
|
| n.花瓣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
recesses
|
|
| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
uncertainty
|
|
| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
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： |
|
|
|
|
90
cannoned
|
|
| vi.与…猛撞（cannon的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
felon
|
|
| n.重罪犯；adj.残忍的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
bullied
|
|
| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
eyebrow
|
|
| n.眉毛，眉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
slippers
|
|
| n. 拖鞋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
dubiously
|
|
| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
rumour
|
|
| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
revoking
|
|
| v.撤销，取消，废除( revoke的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
untoward
|
|
| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
devout
|
|
| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
aisle
|
|
| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
majestically
|
|
| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
shuffling
|
|
| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
irritable
|
|
| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
triumphant
|
|
| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
honourably
|
|
| adv.可尊敬地，光荣地，体面地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
wholesome
|
|
| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
abashed
|
|
| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
mien
|
|
| n.风采；态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
miscreants
|
|
| n.恶棍，歹徒( miscreant的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
unaware
|
|
| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
secrecy
|
|
| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
brat
|
|
| n.孩子；顽童 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |