There were seven of us on a drag, four women and three men; one of the latter sat on the box seat beside the coachman. We were ascending1, at a snail's pace, the winding2 road up the steep cliff along the coast.
Setting out from Etretat at break of day in order to visit the ruins of Tancarville, we were still half asleep, benumbed by the fresh air of the morning. The women especially, who were little accustomed to these early excursions, half opened and closed their eyes every moment, nodding their heads or yawning, quite insensible to the beauties of the dawn.
It was autumn. On both sides of the road stretched the bare fields, yellowed by the stubble of wheat and oats which covered the soil like a beard that had been badly shaved. The moist earth seemed to steam. Larks3 were singing high up in the air, while other birds piped in the bushes.
The sun rose at length in front of us, bright red on the plane of the horizon, and in proportion as it ascended4, growing clearer from minute to minute, the country seemed to awake, to smile, to shake itself like a young girl leaving her bed in her white robe of vapor5. The Comte d'Etraille, who was seated on the box, cried:
“Look! look! a hare!” and he extended his arm toward the left, pointing to a patch of clover. The animal scurried6 along, almost hidden by the clover, only its large ears showing. Then it swerved7 across a furrow8, stopped, started off again at full speed, changed its course, stopped anew, uneasy, spying out every danger, uncertain what route to take, when suddenly it began to run with great bounds, disappearing finally in a large patch of beet-root. All the men had waked up to watch the course of the animal.
Rene Lamanoir exclaimed:
“We are not at all gallant9 this morning,” and; regarding his neighbor, the little Baroness10 de Serennes, who struggled against sleep, he said to her in a low tone: “You are thinking of your husband, baroness. Reassure11 yourself; he will not return before Saturday, so you have still four days.”
She answered with a sleepy smile:
“How stupid you are!” Then, shaking off her torpor12, she added: “Now, let somebody say something to make us laugh. You, Monsieur Chenal, who have the reputation of having had more love affairs than the Duc de Richelieu, tell us a love story in which you have played a part; anything you like.”
Leon Chenal, an old painter, who had once been very handsome, very strong, very proud of his physique and very popular with women, took his long white beard in his hand and smiled. Then, after a few moments' reflection, he suddenly became serious.
“Ladies, it will not be an amusing tale, for I am going to relate to you the saddest love affair of my life, and I sincerely hope that none of my friends may ever pass through a similar experience.
“I was twenty-five years of age and was pillaging13 along the coast of Normandy. I call 'pillaging' wandering about, with a knapsack on one's back, from inn to inn, under the pretext14 of making studies and sketching16 landscapes. I knew nothing more enjoyable than that happy-go-lucky wandering life, in which one is perfectly17 free, without shackles18 of any kind, without care, without preoccupation, without thinking even of the morrow. One goes in any direction one pleases, without any guide save his fancy, without any counsellor save his eyes. One stops because a running brook19 attracts one, because the smell of potatoes frying tickles21 one's olfactories22 on passing an inn. Sometimes it is the perfume of clematis which decides one in his choice or the roguish glance of the servant at an inn. Do not despise me for my affection for these rustics23. These girls have a soul as well as senses, not to mention firm cheeks and fresh lips; while their hearty25 and willing kisses have the flavor of wild fruit. Love is always love, come whence it may. A heart that beats at your approach, an eye that weeps when you go away are things so rare, so sweet, so precious that they must never be despised.
“I have had rendezvous26 in ditches full of primroses27, behind the cow stable and in barns among the straw, still warm from the heat of the day. I have recollections of coarse gray cloth covering supple28 peasant skin and regrets for simple, frank kisses, more delicate in their unaffected sincerity30 than the subtle favors of charming and distinguished31 women.
“But what one loves most amid all these varied32 adventures is the country, the woods, the rising of the sun, the twilight33, the moonlight. These are, for the painter, honeymoon34 trips with Nature. One is alone with her in that long and quiet association. You go to sleep in the fields, amid marguerites and poppies, and when you open your eyes in the full glare of the sunlight you descry35 in the distance the little village with its pointed36 clock tower which sounds the hour of noon.
“You sit down by the side of a spring which gushes37 out at the foot of an oak, amid a growth of tall, slender weeds, glistening38 with life. You go down on your knees, bend forward and drink that cold, pellucid39 water which wets your mustache and nose; you drink it with a physical pleasure, as though you kissed the spring, lip to lip. Sometimes, when you find a deep hole along the course of these tiny brooks40, you plunge41 in quite naked, and you feel on your skin, from head to foot, as it were, an icy and delicious caress42, the light and gentle quivering of the stream.
“You are gay on the hills, melancholy43 on the edge of ponds, inspired when the sun is setting in an ocean of blood-red clouds and casts red reflections or the river. And at night, under the moon, which passes across the vault44 of heaven, you think of a thousand strange things which would never have occurred to your mind under the brilliant light of day.
“So, in wandering through the same country where we, are this year, I came to the little village of Benouville, on the cliff between Yport and Etretat. I came from Fecamp, following the coast, a high coast as straight as a wall, with its projecting chalk cliffs descending45 perpendicularly46 into the sea. I had walked since early morning on the short grass, smooth and yielding as a carpet, that grows on the edge of the cliff. And, singing lustily, I walked with long strides, looking sometimes at the slow circling flight of a gull47 with its white curved wings outlined on the blue sky, sometimes at the brown sails of a fishing bark on the green sea. In short, I had passed a happy day, a day of liberty and of freedom from care.
“A little farmhouse48 where travellers were lodged49 was pointed out to me, a kind of inn, kept by a peasant woman, which stood in the centre of a Norman courtyard surrounded by a double row of beeches50.
“Leaving the coast, I reached the hamlet, which was hemmed51 in by great trees, and I presented myself at the house of Mother Lecacheur.
“She was an old, wrinkled and stern peasant woman, who seemed always to receive customers under protest, with a kind of defiance52.
“It was the month of May. The spreading apple trees covered the court with a shower of blossoms which rained unceasingly both upon people and upon the grass.
“I said: 'Well, Madame Lecacheur, have you a room for me?'
“Astonished to find that I knew her name, she answered:
“'That depends; everything is let, but all the same I can find out.”
“In five minutes we had come to an agreement, and I deposited my bag upon the earthen floor of a rustic24 room, furnished with a bed, two chairs, a table and a washbowl. The room looked into the large, smoky kitchen, where the lodgers54 took their meals with the people of the farm and the landlady55, who was a widow.
“I washed my hands, after which I went out. The old woman was making a chicken fricassee for dinner in the large fireplace in which hung the iron pot, black with smoke.
“'You have travellers, then, at the present time?' said I to her.
“She answered in an offended tone of voice:
“'I have a lady, an English lady, who has reached years of maturity56. She occupies the other room.'
“I obtained, by means of an extra five sous a day, the privilege of dining alone out in the yard when the weather was fine.
“My place was set outside the door, and I was beginning to gnaw57 the lean limbs of the Normandy chicken, to drink the clear cider and to munch58 the hunk of white bread, which was four days old but excellent.
“Suddenly the wooden gate which gave on the highway was opened, and a strange lady directed her steps toward the house. She was very thin, very tall, so tightly enveloped59 in a red Scotch60 plaid shawl that one might have supposed she had no arms, if one had not seen a long hand appear just above the hips61, holding a white tourist umbrella. Her face was like that of a mummy, surrounded with curls of gray hair, which tossed about at every step she took and made me think, I know not why, of a pickled herring in curl papers. Lowering her eyes, she passed quickly in front of me and entered the house.
“That singular apparition63 cheered me. She undoubtedly64 was my neighbor, the English lady of mature age of whom our hostess had spoken.
“I did not see her again that day. The next day, when I had settled myself to commence painting at the end of that beautiful valley which you know and which extends as far as Etretat, I perceived, on lifting my eyes suddenly, something singular standing66 on the crest67 of the cliff, one might have said a pole decked out with flags. It was she. On seeing me, she suddenly disappeared. I reentered the house at midday for lunch and took my seat at the general table, so as to make the acquaintance of this odd character. But she did not respond to my polite advances, was insensible even to my little attentions. I poured out water for her persistently68, I passed her the dishes with great eagerness. A slight, almost imperceptible, movement of the head and an English word, murmured so low that I did not understand it, were her only acknowledgments.
“I ceased occupying myself with her, although she had disturbed my thoughts.
“At the end of three days I knew as much about her as did Madame Lecacheur herself.
“She was called Miss Harriet. Seeking out a secluded69 village in which to pass the summer, she had been attracted to Benouville some six months before and did not seem disposed to leave it. She never spoke65 at table, ate rapidly, reading all the while a small book of the Protestant propaganda. She gave a copy of it to everybody. The cure himself had received no less than four copies, conveyed by an urchin70 to whom she had paid two sous commission. She said sometimes to our hostess abruptly71, without preparing her in the least for the declaration:
“'I love the Saviour72 more than all. I admire him in all creation; I adore him in all nature; I carry him always in my heart.'
“And she would immediately present the old woman with one of her tracts20 which were destined73 to convert the universe.
“In, the village she was not liked. In fact, the schoolmaster having pronounced her an atheist74, a kind of stigma75 attached to her. The cure, who had been consulted by Madame Lecacheur, responded:
“'She is a heretic, but God does not wish the death of the sinner, and I believe her to be a person of pure morals.'
“These words, 'atheist,' 'heretic,' words which no one can precisely76 define, threw doubts into some minds. It was asserted, however, that this English woman was rich and that she had passed her life in travelling through every country in the world because her family had cast her off. Why had her family cast her off? Because of her impiety77, of course!
“She was, in fact, one of those people of exalted78 principles; one of those opinionated puritans, of which England produces so many; one of those good and insupportable old maids who haunt the tables d'hote of every hotel in Europe, who spoil Italy, poison Switzerland, render the charming cities of the Mediterranean79 uninhabitable, carry everywhere their fantastic manias80 their manners of petrified81 vestals, their indescribable toilets and a certain odor of india-rubber which makes one believe that at night they are slipped into a rubber casing.
“Whenever I caught sight of one of these individuals in a hotel I fled like the birds who see a scarecrow in a field.
“Madame Lecacheur, hostile by instinct to everything that was not rustic, felt in her narrow soul a kind of hatred83 for the ecstatic declarations of the old maid. She had found a phrase by which to describe her, a term of contempt that rose to her lips, called forth84 by I know not what confused and mysterious mental ratiocination85. She said: 'That woman is a demoniac.' This epithet86, applied87 to that austere88 and sentimental89 creature, seemed to me irresistibly90 droll91. I myself never called her anything now but 'the demoniac,' experiencing a singular pleasure in pronouncing aloud this word on perceiving her.
“One day I asked Mother Lecacheur: 'Well, what is our demoniac about to-day?'
“To which my rustic friend replied with a shocked air:
“'What do you think, sir? She picked up a toad92 which had had its paw crushed and carried it to her room and has put it in her washbasin and bandaged it as if it were a man. If that is not profanation93 I should like to know what is!'
“On another occasion, when walking along the shore she bought a large fish which had just been caught, simply to throw it back into the sea again. The sailor from whom she had bought it, although she paid him handsomely, now began to swear, more exasperated94, indeed, than if she had put her hand into his pocket and taken his money. For more than a month he could not speak of the circumstance without becoming furious and denouncing it as an outrage95. Oh, yes! She was indeed a demoniac, this Miss Harriet, and Mother Lecacheur must have had an inspiration in thus christening her.
“The stable boy, who was called Sapeur, because he had served in Africa in his youth, entertained other opinions. He said with a roguish air: 'She is an old hag who has seen life.'
“If the poor woman had but known!
“The little kind-hearted Celeste did not wait upon her willingly, but I was never able to understand why. Probably her only reason was that she was a stranger, of another race; of a different tongue and of another religion. She was, in fact, a demoniac!
“She passed her time wandering about the country, adoring and seeking God in nature. I found her one evening on her knees in a cluster of bushes. Having discovered something red through the leaves, I brushed aside the branches, and Miss Harriet at once rose to her feet, confused at having been found thus, fixing on me terrified eyes like those of an owl53 surprised in open day.
“Sometimes, when I was working among the rocks, I would suddenly descry her on the edge of the cliff like a lighthouse signal. She would be gazing in rapture96 at the vast sea glittering in the sunlight and the boundless97 sky with its golden tints98. Sometimes I would distinguish her at the end of the valley, walking quickly with her elastic99 English step, and I would go toward her, attracted by I know not what, simply to see her illuminated100 visage, her dried-up, ineffable101 features, which seemed to glow with inward and profound happiness.
“I would often encounter her also in the corner of a field, sitting on the grass under the shadow of an apple tree, with her little religious booklet lying open on her knee while she gazed out at the distance.
“I could not tear myself away from that quiet country neighborhood, to which I was attached by a thousand links of love for its wide and peaceful landscape. I was happy in this sequestered102 farm, far removed from everything, but in touch with the earth, the good, beautiful, green earth. And—must I avow103 it?—there was, besides, a little curiosity which retained me at the residence of Mother Lecacheur. I wished to become acquainted a little with this strange Miss Harriet and to know what transpires104 in the solitary105 souls of those wandering old English women.
“We became acquainted in a rather singular manner. I had just finished a study which appeared to me to be worth something, and so it was, as it sold for ten thousand francs fifteen years later. It was as simple, however, as two and two make four and was not according to academic rules. The whole right side of my canvas represented a rock, an enormous rock, covered with sea-wrack, brown, yellow and red, across which the sun poured like a stream of oil. The light fell upon the rock as though it were aflame without the sun, which was at my back, being visible. That was all. A first bewildering study of blazing, gorgeous light.
“On the left was the sea, not the blue sea, the slate-colored sea, but a sea of jade106, greenish, milky107 and solid beneath the deep-colored sky.
“I was so pleased with my work that I danced from sheer delight as I carried it back to the inn. I would have liked the whole world to see it at once. I can remember that I showed it to a cow that was browsing108 by the wayside, exclaiming as I did so: 'Look at that, my old beauty; you will not often see its like again.'
“When I had reached the house I immediately called out to Mother Lecacheur, shouting with all my might:
“'Hullo, there! Mrs. Landlady, come here and look at this.'
“The rustic approached and looked at my work with her stupid eyes which distinguished nothing and could not even tell whether the picture represented an ox or a house.
“Miss Harriet just then came home, and she passed behind me just as I was holding out my canvas at arm's length, exhibiting it to our landlady. The demoniac could not help but see it, for I took care to exhibit the thing in such a way that it could not escape her notice. She stopped abruptly and stood motionless, astonished. It was her rock which was depicted109, the one which she climbed to dream away her time undisturbed.
“She uttered a British 'Aoh,' which was at once so accentuated110 and so flattering that I turned round to her, smiling, and said:
“'This is my latest study, mademoiselle.'
“She murmured rapturously, comically and tenderly:
“'Oh! monsieur, you understand nature as a living thing.'
“I colored and was more touched by that compliment than if it had come from a queen. I was captured, conquered, vanquished111. I could have embraced her, upon my honor.
“I took my seat at table beside her as usual. For the first time she spoke, thinking aloud:
“'Oh! I do love nature.'
“I passed her some bread, some water, some wine. She now accepted these with a little smile of a mummy. I then began to talk about the scenery.
“After the meal we rose from the table together and walked leisurely112 across the courtyard; then, attracted doubtless by the fiery113 glow which the setting sun cast over the surface of the sea, I opened the gate which led to the cliff, and we walked along side by side, as contented114 as two persons might be who have just learned to understand and penetrate115 each other's motives116 and feelings.
“It was one of those warm, soft evenings which impart a sense of ease to flesh and spirit alike. All is enjoyment117, everything charms. The balmy air, laden118 with the perfume of grasses and the smell of seaweed, soothes119 the olfactory120 sense with its wild fragrance121, soothes the palate with its sea savor122, soothes the mind with its pervading123 sweetness.
“We were now walking along the edge of the cliff, high above the boundless sea which rolled its little waves below us at a distance of a hundred metres. And we drank in with open mouth and expanded chest that fresh breeze, briny124 from kissing the waves, that came from the ocean and passed across our faces.
“Wrapped in her plaid shawl, with a look of inspiration as she faced the breeze, the English woman gazed fixedly125 at the great sun ball as it descended126 toward the horizon. Far off in the distance a three-master in full sail was outlined on the blood-red sky and a steamship127, somewhat nearer, passed along, leaving behind it a trail of smoke on the horizon. The red sun globe sank slowly lower and lower and presently touched the water just behind the motionless vessel128, which, in its dazzling effulgence129, looked as though framed in a flame of fire. We saw it plunge, grow smaller and disappear, swallowed up by the ocean.
“Miss Harriet gazed in rapture at the last gleams of the dying day. She seemed longing130 to embrace the sky, the sea, the whole landscape.
“She murmured: 'Aoh! I love—I love' I saw a tear in her eye. She continued: 'I wish I were a little bird, so that I could mount up into the firmament131.'
“She remained standing as I had often before seen her, perched on the cliff, her face as red as her shawl. I should have liked to have sketched132 her in my album. It would have been a caricature of ecstasy133.
“I turned away so as not to laugh.
“I then spoke to her of painting as I would have done to a fellow artist, using the technical terms common among the devotees of the profession. She listened attentively134, eagerly seeking to divine the meaning of the terms, so as to understand my thoughts. From time to time she would exclaim:
“'Oh! I understand, I understand. It is very interesting.'
“We returned home.
“The next day, on seeing me, she approached me, cordially holding out her hand; and we at once became firm friends.
“She was a good creature who had a kind of soul on springs, which became enthusiastic at a bound. She lacked equilibrium135 like all women who are spinsters at the age of fifty. She seemed to be preserved in a pickle62 of innocence136, but her heart still retained something very youthful and inflammable. She loved both nature and animals with a fervor137, a love like old wine fermented138 through age, with a sensuous139 love that she had never bestowed140 on men.
“One thing is certain, that the sight of a bitch nursing her puppies, a mare141 roaming in a meadow with a foal at its side, a bird's nest full of young ones, screaming, with their open mouths and their enormous heads, affected29 her perceptibly.
“Poor, solitary, sad, wandering beings! I love you ever since I became acquainted with Miss Harriet.
“I soon discovered that she had something she would like to tell me, but dare not, and I was amused at her timidity. When I started out in the morning with my knapsack on my back, she would accompany me in silence as far as the end of the village, evidently struggling to find words with which to begin a conversation. Then she would leave me abruptly and walk away quickly with her springy step.
“One day, however, she plucked up courage:
“I would like to see how you paint pictures. Are you willing? I have been very curious.'
“And she blushed as if she had said something very audacious.
“I conducted her to the bottom of the Petit-Val, where I had begun a large picture.
“She remained standing behind me, following all my gestures with concentrated attention. Then, suddenly, fearing perhaps that she was disturbing me, she said: 'Thank you,' and walked away.
“But she soon became more friendly, and accompanied me every day, her countenance142 exhibiting visible pleasure. She carried her camp stool under her arm, not permitting me to carry it. She would remain there for hours, silent and motionless, following with her eyes the point of my brush, in its every movement. When I obtained unexpectedly just the effect I wanted by a dash of color put on with the palette knife, she involuntarily uttered a little 'Ah!' of astonishment143, of joy, of admiration144. She had the most tender respect for my canvases, an almost religious respect for that human reproduction of a part of nature's work divine. My studies appeared to her a kind of religious pictures, and sometimes she spoke to me of God, with the idea of converting me.
“Oh, he was a queer, good-natured being, this God of hers! He was a sort of village philosopher without any great resources and without great power, for she always figured him to herself as inconsolable over injustices146 committed under his eyes, as though he were powerless to prevent them.
“She was, however, on excellent terms with him, affecting even to be the confidante of his secrets and of his troubles. She would say:
“'God wills' or 'God does not will,' just like a sergeant147 announcing to a recruit: 'The colonel has commanded.'
“At the bottom of her heart she deplored148 my ignorance of the intentions of the Eternal, which she endeavored to impart to me.
“Almost every day I found in my pockets, in my hat when I lifted it from the ground, in my paintbox, in my polished shoes, standing in front of my door in the morning, those little pious149 tracts which she no doubt, received directly from Paradise.
“I treated her as one would an old friend, with unaffected cordiality. But I soon perceived that she had changed somewhat in her manner, though, for a while, I paid little attention to it.
“When I was painting, whether in my valley or in some country lane, I would see her suddenly appear with her rapid, springy walk. She would then sit down abruptly, out of breath, as though she had been running or were overcome by some profound emotion. Her face would be red, that English red which is denied to the people of all other countries; then, without any reason, she would turn ashy pale and seem about to faint away. Gradually, however, her natural color would return and she would begin to speak.
“Then, without warning, she would break off in the middle of a sentence, spring up from her seat and walk away so rapidly and so strangely that I was at my wits' ends to discover whether I had done or said anything to displease or wound her.
“I finally came to the conclusion that those were her normal manners, somewhat modified no doubt in my honor during the first days of our acquaintance.
“When she returned to the farm, after walking for hours on the windy coast, her long curls often hung straight down, as if their springs had been broken. This had hitherto seldom given her any concern, and she would come to dinner without embarrassment150 all dishevelled by her sister, the breeze.
“But now she would go to her room and arrange the untidy locks, and when I would say, with familiar gallantry, which, however, always offended her:
“'You are as beautiful as a star to-day, Miss Harriet,' a blush would immediately rise to her cheeks, the blush of a young girl, of a girl of fifteen.
“Then she would suddenly become quite reserved and cease coming to watch me paint. I thought, 'This is only a fit of temper; it will blow over.' But it did not always blow over, and when I spoke to her she would answer me either with affected indifference151 or with sullen152 annoyance153.
“She became by turns rude, impatient and nervous. I never saw her now except at meals, and we spoke but little. I concluded at length that I must have offended her in some way, and, accordingly, I said to her one evening:
“'Miss Harriet, why is it that you do not act toward me as formerly154? What have I done to displease you? You are causing me much pain!'
“She replied in a most comical tone of anger:
“'I am just the same with you as formerly. It is not true, not true,' and she ran upstairs and shut herself up in her room.
“Occasionally she would look at me in a peculiar155 manner. I have often said to myself since then that those who are condemned156 to death must look thus when they are informed that their last day has come. In her eye there lurked157 a species of insanity158, an insanity at once mystical and violent; and even more, a fever, an aggravated159 longing, impatient and impotent, for the unattained and unattainable.
“Nay, it seemed to me there was also going on within her a struggle in which her heart wrestled160 with an unknown force that she sought to master, and even, perhaps, something else. But what do I know? What do I know?
“It was indeed a singular revelation.
“For some time I had commenced to work, as soon as daylight appeared, on a picture the subject of which was as follows:
“A deep ravine, enclosed, surmounted162 by two thickets163 of trees and vines, extended into the distance and was lost, submerged in that milky vapor, in that cloud like cotton down that sometimes floats over valleys at daybreak. And at the extreme end of that heavy, transparent164 fog one saw, or, rather, surmised165, that a couple of human beings were approaching, a human couple, a youth and a maiden166, their arms interlaced, embracing each other, their heads inclined toward each other, their lips meeting.
“A first ray of the sun, glistening through the branches, pierced that fog of the dawn, illuminated it with a rosy167 reflection just behind the rustic lovers, framing their vague shadows in a silvery background. It was well done; yes, indeed, well done.
“I was working on the declivity168 which led to the Valley of Etretat. On this particular morning I had, by chance, the sort of floating vapor which I needed. Suddenly something rose up in front of me like a phantom169; it was Miss Harriet. On seeing me she was about to flee. But I called after her, saying: 'Come here, come here, mademoiselle. I have a nice little picture for you.'
“She came forward, though with seeming reluctance170. I handed her my sketch15. She said nothing, but stood for a long time, motionless, looking at it, and suddenly she burst into tears. She wept spasmodically, like men who have striven hard to restrain their tears, but who can do so no longer and abandon themselves to grief, though still resisting. I sprang to my feet, moved at the sight of a sorrow I did not comprehend, and I took her by the hand with an impulse of brusque affection, a true French impulse which acts before it reflects.
“She let her hands rest in mine for a few seconds, and I felt them quiver as if all her nerves were being wrenched171. Then she withdrew her hands abruptly, or, rather, snatched them away.
“I recognized that tremor172, for I had felt it, and I could not be deceived. Ah! the love tremor of a woman, whether she be fifteen or fifty years of age, whether she be of the people or of society, goes so straight to my heart that I never have any hesitation173 in understanding it!
“Her whole frail174 being had trembled, vibrated, been overcome. I knew it. She walked away before I had time to say a word, leaving me as surprised as if I had witnessed a miracle and as troubled as if I had committed a crime.
“I did not go in to breakfast. I went to take a turn on the edge of the cliff, feeling that I would just as lief weep as laugh, looking on the adventure as both comic and deplorable and my position as ridiculous, believing her unhappy enough to go insane.
“I asked myself what I ought to do. It seemed best for me to leave the place, and I immediately resolved to do so.
“Somewhat sad and perplexed175, I wandered about until dinner time and entered the farmhouse just when the soup had been served up.
“I sat down at the table as usual. Miss Harriet was there, eating away solemnly, without speaking to any one, without even lifting her eyes. Her manner and expression were, however, the same as usual.
“I waited patiently till the meal had been finished, when, turning toward the landlady, I said: 'Well, Madame Lecacheur, it will not be long now before I shall have to take my leave of you.'
“The good woman, at once surprised and troubled, replied in her drawling voice: 'My dear sir, what is it you say? You are going to leave us after I have become so accustomed to you?'
“I glanced at Miss Harriet out of the corner of my eye. Her countenance did not change in the least. But Celeste, the little servant, looked up at me. She was a fat girl, of about eighteen years of age, rosy, fresh, as strong as a horse, and possessing the rare attribute of cleanliness. I had kissed her at odd times in out-of-the-way corners, after the manner of travellers—nothing more.
“The dinner being at length over, I went to smoke my pipe under the apple trees, walking up and down from one end of the enclosure to the other. All the reflections which I had made during the day, the strange discovery of the morning, that passionate176 and grotesque177 attachment178 for me, the recollections which that revelation had suddenly called up, recollections at once charming and perplexing, perhaps also that look which the servant had cast on me at the announcement of my departure—all these things, mixed up and combined, put me now in a reckless humor, gave me a tickling179 sensation of kisses on the lips and in my veins180 a something which urged me on to commit some folly181.
“Night was coming on, casting its dark shadows under the trees, when I descried182 Celeste, who had gone to fasten up the poultry183 yard at the other end of the enclosure. I darted184 toward her, running so noiselessly that she heard nothing, and as she got up from closing the small trapdoor by which the chickens got in and out, I clasped her in my arms and rained on her coarse, fat face a shower of kisses. She struggled, laughing all the time, as she was accustomed to do in such circumstances. Why did I suddenly loose my grip of her? Why did I at once experience a shock? What was it that I heard behind me?
“It was Miss Harriet, who had come upon us, who had seen us and who stood in front of us motionless as a spectre. Then she disappeared in the darkness.
“I was ashamed, embarrassed, more desperate at having been thus surprised by her than if she had caught me committing some criminal act.
“I slept badly that night. I was completely unnerved and haunted by sad thoughts. I seemed to hear loud weeping, but in this I was no doubt deceived. Moreover, I thought several times that I heard some one walking up and down in the house and opening the hall door.
“Toward morning I was overcome by fatigue185 and fell asleep. I got up late and did not go downstairs until the late breakfast, being still in a bewildered state, not knowing what kind of expression to put on.
“No one had seen Miss Harriet. We waited for her at table, but she did not appear. At length Mother Lecacheur went to her room. The English woman had gone out. She must have set out at break of day, as she was wont186 to do, in order to see the sun rise.
“Nobody seemed surprised at this, and we began to eat in silence.
“The weather was hot, very hot, one of those broiling187, heavy days when not a leaf stirs. The table had been placed out of doors, under an apple tree, and from time to time Sapeur had gone to the cellar to draw a jug188 of cider, everybody was so thirsty. Celeste brought the dishes from the kitchen, a ragout of mutton with potatoes, a cold rabbit and a salad. Afterward189 she placed before us a dish of strawberries, the first of the season.
“As I wished to wash and freshen these, I begged the servant to go and draw me a pitcher190 of cold water.
“In about five minutes she returned, declaring that the well was dry. She had lowered the pitcher to the full extent of the cord and had touched the bottom, but on drawing the pitcher up again it was empty. Mother Lecacheur, anxious to examine the thing for herself, went and looked down the hole. She returned, announcing that one could see clearly something in the well, something altogether unusual. But this no doubt was bundles of straw, which a neighbor had thrown in out of spite.
“I wished to look down the well also, hoping I might be able to clear up the mystery, and I perched myself close to the brink191. I perceived indistinctly a white object. What could it be? I then conceived the idea of lowering a lantern at the end of a cord. When I did so the yellow flame danced on the layers of stone and gradually became clearer. All four of us were leaning over the opening, Sapeur and Celeste having now joined us. The lantern rested on a black-and-white indistinct mass, singular, incomprehensible. Sapeur exclaimed:
“'It is a horse. I see the hoofs192. It must have got out of the meadow during the night and fallen in headlong.'
“But suddenly a cold shiver froze me to the marrow193. I first recognized a foot, then a leg sticking up; the whole body and the other leg were completely under water.
“I stammered194 out in a loud voice, trembling so violently that the lantern danced hither and thither195 over the slipper196:
“'It is a woman! Who-who-can it be? It is Miss Harriet!'
“Sapeur alone did not manifest horror. He had witnessed many such scenes in Africa.
“Mother Lecacheur and Celeste began to utter piercing screams and ran away.
“But it was necessary to recover the corpse197 of the dead woman. I attached the young man securely by the waist to the end of the pulley rope and lowered him very slowly, watching him disappear in the darkness. In one hand he held the lantern and a rope in the other. Soon I recognized his voice, which seemed to come from the centre of the earth, saying:
“'Stop!'
“I then saw him fish something out of the water. It was the other leg. He then bound the two feet together and shouted anew:
“'Haul up!'
“I began to wind up, but I felt my arms crack, my muscles twitch198, and I was in terror lest I should let the man fall to the bottom. When his head appeared at the brink I asked:
“'Well?' as if I expected he had a message from the drowned woman.
“We both got on the stone slab199 at the edge of the well and from opposite sides we began to haul up the body.
“Mother Lecacheur and Celeste watched us from a distance, concealed200 from view behind the wall of the house. When they saw issuing from the hole the black slippers201 and white stockings of the drowned person they disappeared.
“Sapeur seized the ankles, and we drew up the body of the poor woman. The head was shocking to look at, being bruised202 and lacerated, and the long gray hair, out of curl forevermore, hanging down tangled203 and disordered.
“'In the name of all that is holy! how lean she is,' exclaimed Sapeur in a contemptuous tone.
“We carried her into the room, and as the women did not put in an appearance I, with the assistance of the stable lad, dressed the corpse for burial.
“I washed her disfigured face. Under the touch of my finger an eye was slightly opened and regarded me with that pale, cold look, that terrible look of a corpse which seems to come from the beyond. I braided as well as I could her dishevelled hair and with my clumsy hands arranged on her head a novel and singular coiffure. Then I took off her dripping wet garments, baring, not without a feeling of shame, as though I had been guilty of some profanation, her shoulders and her chest and her long arms, as slim as the twigs204 of a tree.
“I next went to fetch some flowers, poppies, bluets, marguerites and fresh, sweet-smelling grass with which to strew205 her funeral couch.
“I then had to go through the usual formalities, as I was alone to attend to everything. A letter found in her pocket, written at the last moment, requested that her body be buried in the village in which she had passed the last days of her life. A sad suspicion weighed on my heart. Was it not on my account that she wished to be laid to rest in this place?
“Toward evening all the female gossips of the locality came to view the remains206 of the defunct207, but I would not allow a single person to enter. I wanted to be alone, and I watched beside her all night.
“I looked at the corpse by the flickering208 light of the candles, at this unhappy woman, unknown to us all, who had died in such a lamentable209 manner and so far away from home. Had she left no friends, no relations behind her? What had her infancy210 been? What had been her life? Whence had she come thither alone, a wanderer, lost like a dog driven from home? What secrets of sufferings and of despair were sealed up in that unprepossessing body, in that poor body whose outward appearance had driven from her all affection, all love?
“How many unhappy beings there are! I felt that there weighed upon that human creature the eternal injustice145 of implacable nature! It was all over with her, without her ever having experienced, perhaps, that which sustains the greatest outcasts to wit, the hope of being loved once! Otherwise why should she thus have concealed herself, fled from the face of others? Why did she love everything so tenderly and so passionately211, everything living that was not a man?
“I recognized the fact that she believed in a God, and that she hoped to receive compensation from the latter for all the miseries212 she had endured. She would now disintegrate213 and become, in turn, a plant. She would blossom in the sun, the cattle would browse214 on her leaves, the birds would bear away the seeds, and through these changes she would become again human flesh. But that which is called the soul had been extinguished at the bottom of the dark well. She suffered no longer. She had given her life for that of others yet to come.
“Hours passed away in this silent and sinister215 communion with the dead. A pale light at length announced the dawn of a new day; then a red ray streamed in on the bed, making a bar of light across the coverlet and across her hands. This was the hour she had so much loved. The awakened216 birds began to sing in the trees.
“I opened the window to its fullest extent and drew back the curtains that the whole heavens might look in upon us, and, bending over the icy corpse, I took in my hands the mutilated head and slowly, without terror or disgust, I imprinted217 a kiss, a long kiss, upon those lips which had never before been kissed.”
Leon Chenal remained silent. The women wept. We heard on the box seat the Count d'Atraille blowing his nose from time to time. The coachman alone had gone to sleep. The horses, who no longer felt the sting of the whip, had slackened their pace and moved along slowly. The drag, hardly advancing at all, seemed suddenly torpid218, as if it had been freighted with sorrow.
[Miss Harriet appeared in Le Gaulois, July 9, 1883, under the title
of Miss Hastings. The story was later revised, enlarged; and partly
reconstructed. This is what De Maupassant wrote to Editor Havard
March 15, 1884, in an unedited letter, in regard to the title of the
story that was to give its name to the volume:
“I do not believe that Hastings is a bad name, inasmuch as it is
known all over the world, and recalls the greatest facts in English
history. Besides, Hastings is as much a name as Duval is with us.
English name than like a Turkish name. But here is another name as
English as Hastings, and more euphonious219; it is Miss Harriet.
I will ask you therefore to substitute Harriet for Hastings.”
It was in regard to this very tittle that De Maupassant had a
disagreement with Audran and Boucheron director of the Bouffes
Parisiens in October, 1890. They had given this title to an operetta
about to be played at the Bouffes. It ended however, by their
ceding to De Maupassant, and the title of the operetta was changed
to Miss Helyett.]
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1
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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larks
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| n.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的名词复数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了v.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的第三人称单数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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6
scurried
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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baroness
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| n.男爵夫人，女男爵 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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torpor
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| n.迟钝；麻木；（动物的）冬眠 | |
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13
pillaging
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| v.抢劫，掠夺( pillage的现在分词 ) | |
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14
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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15
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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16
sketching
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| n.草图 | |
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17
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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shackles
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| 手铐( shackle的名词复数 )； 脚镣； 束缚； 羁绊 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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tickles
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| （使）发痒( tickle的第三人称单数 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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olfactories
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| n.嗅觉的( olfactory的名词复数 ) | |
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rustics
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| n.有农村或村民特色的( rustic的名词复数 )；粗野的；不雅的；用粗糙的木材或树枝制作的 | |
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24
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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25
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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26
rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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27
primroses
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| n.报春花( primrose的名词复数 )；淡黄色；追求享乐（招至恶果） | |
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28
supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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29
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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30
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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31
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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32
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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34
honeymoon
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| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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35
descry
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| v.远远看到；发现；责备 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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gushes
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| n.涌出，迸发( gush的名词复数 )v.喷，涌( gush的第三人称单数 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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38
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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pellucid
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| adj.透明的，简单的 | |
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40
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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41
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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42
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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44
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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45
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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46
perpendicularly
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| adv. 垂直地, 笔直地, 纵向地 | |
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47
gull
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| n.鸥；受骗的人；v.欺诈 | |
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48
farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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49
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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50
beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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51
hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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52
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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53
owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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54
lodgers
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| n.房客，租住者( lodger的名词复数 ) | |
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55
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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56
maturity
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| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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57
gnaw
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| v.不断地啃、咬；使苦恼，折磨 | |
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58
munch
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| v.用力嚼，大声咀嚼 | |
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59
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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61
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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62
pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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63
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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64
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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65
spoke
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| 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 | |
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66
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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67
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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68
persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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69
secluded
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| 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) | |
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70
urchin
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| n.顽童；海胆 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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72
saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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73
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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atheist
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| n.无神论者 | |
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75
stigma
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| n.耻辱，污名；(花的)柱头 | |
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76
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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impiety
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| n.不敬；不孝 | |
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78
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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Mediterranean
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| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
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manias
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| n.（mania的复数形式） | |
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81
petrified
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| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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82
displease
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| vt.使不高兴，惹怒；n.不悦，不满，生气 | |
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83
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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84
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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85
ratiocination
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| n.推理；推断 | |
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86
epithet
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| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
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87
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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88
austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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89
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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90
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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91
droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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92
toad
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
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93
profanation
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| n.亵渎 | |
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94
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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95
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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96
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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97
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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98
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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99
elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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100
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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101
ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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102
sequestered
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| adj.扣押的；隐退的；幽静的；偏僻的v.使隔绝，使隔离( sequester的过去式和过去分词 )；扣押 | |
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103
avow
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| v.承认，公开宣称 | |
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104
transpires
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| （事实，秘密等）被人知道( transpire的第三人称单数 )； 泄露； 显露； 发生 | |
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105
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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106
jade
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| n.玉石；碧玉；翡翠 | |
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107
milky
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| adj.牛奶的，多奶的；乳白色的 | |
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108
browsing
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| v.吃草( browse的现在分词 )；随意翻阅；（在商店里）随便看看；（在计算机上）浏览信息 | |
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109
depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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110
accentuated
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| v.重读( accentuate的过去式和过去分词 )；使突出；使恶化；加重音符号于 | |
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111
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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112
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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113
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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114
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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115
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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116
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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117
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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118
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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119
soothes
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| v.安慰( soothe的第三人称单数 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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120
olfactory
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| adj.嗅觉的 | |
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121
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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122
savor
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| vt.品尝，欣赏；n.味道，风味；情趣，趣味 | |
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123
pervading
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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124
briny
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| adj.盐水的；很咸的；n.海洋 | |
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125
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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126
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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127
steamship
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| n.汽船，轮船 | |
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128
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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129
effulgence
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| n.光辉 | |
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130
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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131
firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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132
sketched
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| v.草拟（sketch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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133
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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134
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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135
equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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136
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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137
fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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138
fermented
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| v.（使）发酵( ferment的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）激动；骚动；骚扰 | |
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139
sensuous
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| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
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140
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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141
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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142
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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143
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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144
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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145
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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146
injustices
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| 不公平( injustice的名词复数 )； 非正义； 待…不公正； 冤枉 | |
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147
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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148
deplored
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| v.悲叹，痛惜，强烈反对( deplore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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149
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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150
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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151
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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152
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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153
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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154
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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155
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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156
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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157
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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158
insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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159
aggravated
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| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
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160
wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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161
revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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162
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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163
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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164
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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165
surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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166
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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167
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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168
declivity
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| n.下坡，倾斜面 | |
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169
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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170
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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171
wrenched
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| 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 | |
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172
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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173
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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174
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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175
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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176
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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177
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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178
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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179
tickling
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| 反馈，回授，自旋挠痒法 | |
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180
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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181
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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182
descried
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| adj.被注意到的，被发现的，被看到的 | |
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183
poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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184
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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185
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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186
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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187
broiling
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| adj.酷热的，炽热的，似烧的v.（用火）烤（焙、炙等）( broil的现在分词 )；使卷入争吵；使混乱；被烤（或炙） | |
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188
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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189
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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190
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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191
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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192
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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193
marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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194
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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195
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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196
slipper
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| n.拖鞋 | |
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197
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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198
twitch
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| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
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199
slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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200
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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201
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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202
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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203
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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204
twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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205
strew
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| vt.撒；使散落；撒在…上，散布于 | |
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206
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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207
defunct
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| adj.死亡的；已倒闭的 | |
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208
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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209
lamentable
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| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
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210
infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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211
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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212
miseries
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| n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 )；痛苦的事；穷困；常发牢骚的人 | |
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213
disintegrate
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| v.瓦解，解体，（使）碎裂，（使）粉碎 | |
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214
browse
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| vi.随意翻阅，浏览；(牛、羊等)吃草 | |
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215
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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216
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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217
imprinted
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| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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218
torpid
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| adj.麻痹的，麻木的，迟钝的 | |
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219
euphonious
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| adj.好听的，悦耳的，和谐的 | |
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