THE rain held off, and an hour later, when she started,wild gleams of sunlight were blowing across the fields.
After Harney's departure she had returned her bicycleto its owner at Creston, and she was not sure of beingable to walk all the way to the Mountain. The desertedhouse was on the road; but the idea of spending thenight there was unendurable, and she meant to try topush on to Hamblin, where she could sleep under a wood-shed if her strength should fail her. Her preparationshad been made with quiet forethought. Before startingshe had forced herself to swallow a glass of milk andeat a piece of bread; and she had put in her canvassatchel a little packet of the chocolate that Harneyalways carried in his bicycle bag. She wanted aboveall to keep up her strength, and reach her destinationwithout attracting notice....
Mile by mile she retraced1 the road over which she hadso often flown to her lover. When she reached theturn where the wood-road branched off from the Crestonhighway she remembered the Gospel tent--long sincefolded up and transplanted--and her start ofinvoluntary terror when the fat evangelist had said:
"Your Saviour3 knows everything. Come and confess yourguilt." There was no sense of guilt4 in her now, butonly a desperate desire to defend her secret fromirreverent eyes, and begin life again among people towhom the harsh code of the village was unknown. Theimpulse did not shape itself in thought: she only knewshe must save her baby, and hide herself with itsomewhere where no one would ever come to trouble them.
She walked on and on, growing more heavy-footed as theday advanced. It seemed a cruel chance that compelledher to retrace2 every step of the way to the desertedhouse; and when she came in sight of the orchard5, andthe silver-gray roof slanting6 crookedly8 through theladen branches, her strength failed her and she satdown by the road-side. She sat there a long time,trying to gather the courage to start again, and walkpast the broken gate and the untrimmed rose-bushesstrung with scarlet9 hips10. A few drops of rain werefalling, and she thought of the warm evenings whenshe and Harney had sat embraced in the shadowy room,and the noise of summer showers on the roof had rustledthrough their kisses. At length she understood that ifshe stayed any longer the rain might compel her to takeshelter in the house overnight, and she got up andwalked on, averting12 her eyes as she came abreast13 of thewhite gate and the tangled14 garden.
The hours wore on, and she walked more and more slowly,pausing now and then to rest, and to eat a little breadand an apple picked up from the roadside. Her bodyseemed to grow heavier with every yard of the way, andshe wondered how she would be able to carry her childlater, if already he laid such a burden on her....Afresh wind had sprung up, scattering15 the rain andblowing down keenly from the mountain. Presently theclouds lowered again, and a few white darts16 struck herin the face: it was the first snow falling overHamblin. The roofs of the lonely village were onlyhalf a mile ahead, and she was resolved to push beyondit, and try to reach the Mountain that night. She hadno clear plan of action, except that, once in thesettlement, she meant to look for Liff Hyatt, and gethim to take her to her mother. She herself hadbeen born as her own baby was going to be born; andwhatever her mother's subsequent life had been, shecould hardly help remembering the past, and receiving adaughter who was facing the trouble she had known.
Suddenly the deadly faintness came over her once moreand she sat down on the bank and leaned her headagainst a tree-trunk. The long road and the cloudylandscape vanished from her eyes, and for a time sheseemed to be circling about in some terrible wheelingdarkness. Then that too faded.
She opened her eyes, and saw a buggy drawn17 up besideher, and a man who had jumped down from it and wasgazing at her with a puzzled face. Slowlyconsciousness came back, and she saw that the man wasLiff Hyatt.
She was dimly aware that he was asking her something,and she looked at him in silence, trying to findstrength to speak. At length her voice stirred in herthroat, and she said in a whisper: "I'm going up theMountain.""Up the Mountain?" he repeated, drawing aside a little;and as he moved she saw behind him, in the buggy, aheavily coated figure with a familiar pink faceand gold spectacles on the bridge of a Grecian nose.
"Charity! What on earth are you doing here?" Mr. Milesexclaimed, throwing the reins19 on the horse's back andscrambling down from the buggy.
She lifted her heavy eyes to his. "I'm going to see mymother."The two men glanced at each other, and for a momentneither of them spoke20.
Then Mr. Miles said: "You look ill, my dear, and it's along way. Do you think it's wise?"Charity stood up. "I've got to go to her."A vague mirthless grin contracted Liff Hyatt's face,and Mr. Miles again spoke uncertainly. "You know,then--you'd been told?"She stared at him. "I don't know what you mean. Iwant to go to her."Mr. Miles was examining her thoughtfully. She fanciedshe saw a change in his expression, and the bloodrushed to her forehead. "I just want to go to her,"she repeated.
He laid his hand on her arm. "My child, your mother isdying. Liff Hyatt came down to fetch me....Get in andcome with us."He helped her up to the seat at his side, LiffHyatt clambered in at the back, and they drove offtoward Hamblin. At first Charity had hardly graspedwhat Mr. Miles was saying; the physical relief offinding herself seated in the buggy, and securely onher road to the Mountain, effaced21 the impression of hiswords. But as her head cleared she began tounderstand. She knew the Mountain had but the mostinfrequent intercourse22 with the valleys; she had oftenenough heard it said that no one ever went up thereexcept the minister, when someone was dying. And nowit was her mother who was dying...and she would findherself as much alone on the Mountain as anywhere elsein the world. The sense of unescapable isolation23 wasall she could feel for the moment; then she began towonder at the strangeness of its being Mr. Miles whohad undertaken to perform this grim errand. He did notseem in the least like the kind of man who would careto go up the Mountain. But here he was at her side,guiding the horse with a firm hand, and bending on herthe kindly24 gleam of his spectacles, as if there werenothing unusual in their being together in suchcircumstances.
For a while she found it impossible to speak, and heseemed to understand this, and made no attempt toquestion her. But presently she felt her tears riseand flow down over her drawn cheeks; and he must haveseen them too, for he laid his hand on hers, and saidin a low voice: "Won't you tell me what is troublingyou?"She shook her head, and he did not insist: but after awhile he said, in the same low tone, so that theyshould not be overheard: "Charity, what do you know ofyour childhood, before you came down to North Dormer?"She controlled herself, and answered: "Nothing onlywhat I heard Mr. Royall say one day. He said hebrought me down because my father went to prison.""And you've never been up there since?""Never."Mr. Miles was silent again, then he said: "I'm gladyou're coming with me now. Perhaps we may find yourmother alive, and she may know that you have come."They had reached Hamblin, where the snow-flurry hadleft white patches in the rough grass on the roadside,and in the angles of the roofs facing north. It was apoor bleak25 village under the granite26 flank of theMountain, and as soon as they left it they beganto climb. The road was steep and full of ruts, andthe horse settled down to a walk while they mounted andmounted, the world dropping away below them in greatmottled stretches of forest and field, and stormy darkblue distances.
Charity had often had visions of this ascent28 of theMountain but she had not known it would reveal so widea country, and the sight of those strange landsreaching away on every side gave her a new sense ofHarney's remoteness. She knew he must be miles andmiles beyond the last range of hills that seemed to bethe outmost verge29 of things, and she wondered how shehad ever dreamed of going to New York to find him....
As the road mounted the country grew bleaker30, and theydrove across fields of faded mountain grass bleached31 bylong months beneath the snow. In the hollows a fewwhite birches trembled, or a mountain ash lit itsscarlet clusters; but only a scant32 growth of pinesdarkened the granite ledges33. The wind was blowingfiercely across the open slopes; the horse faced itwith bent34 head and straining flanks, and now and thenthe buggy swayed so that Charity had to clutch itsside.
Mr. Miles had not spoken again; he seemed tounderstand that she wanted to be left alone.
After a while the track they were following forked, andhe pulled up the horse, as if uncertain of the way.
Liff Hyatt craned his head around from the back, andshouted against the wind: "Left----" and they turnedinto a stunted35 pine-wood and began to drive down theother side of the Mountain.
A mile or two farther on they came out on a clearingwhere two or three low houses lay in stony36 fields,crouching among the rocks as if to brace11 themselvesagainst the wind. They were hardly more than sheds,built of logs and rough boards, with tin stove-pipessticking out of their roofs. The sun was setting, anddusk had already fallen on the lower world, but ayellow glare still lay on the lonely hillside and thecrouching houses. The next moment it faded and leftthe landscape in dark autumn twilight37.
"Over there," Liff called out, stretching his long armover Mr. Miles's shoulder. The clergyman turned to theleft, across a bit of bare ground overgrown with docksand nettles38, and stopped before the most ruinous of thesheds. A stove-pipe reached its crooked7 arm out of onewindow, and the broken panes39 of the other were stuffedwith rags and paper.
In contrast to such a dwelling40 the brown house inthe swamp might have stood for the home of plenty.
As the buggy drew up two or three mongrel dogs jumpedout of the twilight with a great barking, and a youngman slouched to the door and stood there staring. Inthe twilight Charity saw that his face had the samesodden look as Bash Hyatt's, the day she had seen himsleeping by the stove. He made no effort to silencethe dogs, but leaned in the door, as if roused from adrunken lethargy, while Mr. Miles got out of the buggy.
"Is it here?" the clergyman asked Liff in a low voice;and Liff nodded.
Mr. Miles turned to Charity. "Just hold the horse aminute, my dear: I'll go in first," he said, puttingthe reins in her hands. She took them passively, andsat staring straight ahead of her at the darkeningscene while Mr. Miles and Liff Hyatt went up to thehouse. They stood a few minutes talking with the manin the door, and then Mr. Miles came back. As he cameclose, Charity saw that his smooth pink face wore afrightened solemn look.
"Your mother is dead, Charity; you'd better come withme," he said.
She got down and followed him while Liff led thehorse away. As she approached the door she saidto herself: "This is where I was born...this is where Ibelong...." She had said it to herself often enough asshe looked across the sunlit valleys at the Mountain;but it had meant nothing then, and now it had become areality. Mr. Miles took her gently by the arm, andthey entered what appeared to be the only room in thehouse. It was so dark that she could just discern agroup of a dozen people sitting or sprawling41 about atable made of boards laid across two barrels. Theylooked up listlessly as Mr. Miles and Charity came in,and a woman's thick voice said: "Here's the preacher."But no one moved.
Mr. Miles paused and looked about him; then he turnedto the young man who had met them at the door.
"Is the body here?" he asked.
The young man, instead of answering, turned his headtoward the group. "Where's the candle? I tole yer tobring a candle," he said with sudden harshness to agirl who was lolling against the table. She did notanswer, but another man got up and took from somecorner a candle stuck into a bottle.
"How'll I light it? The stove's out," the girlgrumbled.
Mr. Miles fumbled42 under his heavy wrappings and drewout a match-box. He held a match to the candle, and ina moment or two a faint circle of light fell on thepale aguish heads that started out of the shadow likethe heads of nocturnal animals.
"Mary's over there," someone said; and Mr. Miles,taking the bottle in his hand, passed behind the table.
Charity followed him, and they stood before a mattresson the floor in a corner of the room. A woman lay onit, but she did not look like a dead woman; she seemedto have fallen across her squalid bed in a drunkensleep, and to have been left lying where she fell, inher ragged44 disordered clothes. One arm was flung aboveher head, one leg drawn up under a torn skirt that leftthe other bare to the knee: a swollen45 glistening46 legwith a ragged stocking rolled down about the ankle. Thewoman lay on her back, her eyes staring up unblinkinglyat the candle that trembled in Mr. Miles's hand.
"She jus' dropped off," a woman said, over the shoulderof the others; and the young man added: "I jus' come inand found her."An elderly man with lank27 hair and a feeble grinpushed between them. "It was like this: I says to heron'y the night before: if you don't take and quit, Isays to her..."Someone pulled him back and sent him reeling against abench along the wall, where he dropped down mutteringhis unheeded narrative47.
There was a silence; then the young woman who had beenlolling against the table suddenly parted the group,and stood in front of Charity. She was healthier androbuster looking than the others, and her weather-beaten face had a certain sullen48 beauty.
"Who's the girl? Who brought her here?" she said,fixing her eyes mistrustfully on the young man who hadrebuked her for not having a candle ready.
Mr. Miles spoke. "I brought her; she is Mary Hyatt'sdaughter.""What? Her too?" the girl sneered49; and the young manturned on her with an oath. "Shut your mouth, damnyou, or get out of here," he said; then he relapsedinto his former apathy51, and dropped down on the bench,leaning his head against the wall.
Mr. Miles had set the candle on the floor and taken offhis heavy coat. He turned to Charity. "Come and helpme," he said.
He knelt down by the mattress43, and pressed thelids over the dead woman's eyes. Charity, tremblingand sick, knelt beside him, and tried to compose hermother's body. She drew the stocking over the dreadfulglistening leg, and pulled the skirt down to thebattered upturned boots. As she did so, she looked ather mother's face, thin yet swollen, with lips partedin a frozen gasp52 above the broken teeth. There was nosign in it of anything human: she lay there like adead dog in a ditch Charity's hands grew cold as theytouched her.
Mr. Miles drew the woman's arms across her breast andlaid his coat over her. Then he covered her face withhis handkerchief, and placed the bottle with the candlein it at her head. Having done this he stood up.
"Is there no coffin53?" he asked, turning to the groupbehind him.
There was a moment of bewildered silence; then thefierce girl spoke up. "You'd oughter brought it withyou. Where'd we get one here, I'd like ter know?"Mr. Miles, looking at the others, repeated: "Is itpossible you have no coffin ready?""That's what I say: them that has it sleepsbetter," an old woman murmured. "But then shenever had no bed....""And the stove warn't hers," said the lank-haired man,on the defensive54.
Mr. Miles turned away from them and moved a few stepsapart. He had drawn a book from his pocket, and aftera pause he opened it and began to read, holding thebook at arm's length and low down, so that the pagescaught the feeble light. Charity had remained on herknees by the mattress: now that her mother's face wascovered it was easier to stay near her, and avoid thesight of the living faces which too horribly showed bywhat stages hers had lapsed50 into death.
"I am the Resurrection and the Life," Mr. Miles began;"he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yetshall he live....Though after my skin worms destroy mybody, yet in my flesh shall I see God...."IN MY FLESH SHALL I SEE GOD! Charity thought of thegaping mouth and stony eyes under the handkerchief, andof the glistening leg over which she had drawn thestocking....
"We brought nothing into this world and we shall takenothing out of it----"There was a sudden muttering and a scuffle at theback of the group. "I brought the stove," said theelderly man with lank hair, pushing his way between theothers. "I wen' down to Creston'n bought it...n' I gota right to take it outer here...n' I'll lick any fellersays I ain't....""Sit down, damn you!" shouted the tall youth who hadbeen drowsing on the bench against the wall.
"For man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquietethhimself in vain; he heapeth up riches and cannot tellwho shall gather them....""Well, it ARE his," a woman in the backgroundinterjected in a frightened whine55.
The tall youth staggered to his feet. "If you don'thold your mouths I'll turn you all out o' here, thewhole lot of you," he cried with many oaths. "G'wan,minister...don't let 'em faze you....""Now is Christ risen from the dead and become thefirst-fruits of them that slept....Behold56, I show you amystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all bechanged, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, atthe last trump57....For this corruptible58 must put onincorruption and this mortal must put on immortality60.
So when this corruption59 shall have put onincorruption, and when this mortal shall have put onimmortality, then shall be brought to pass the sayingthat is written, Death is swallowed up in Victory...."One by one the mighty61 words fell on Charity's bowedhead, soothing62 the horror, subduing63 the tumult,mastering her as they mastered the drink-dazedcreatures at her back. Mr. Miles read to the lastword, and then closed the book.
"Is the grave ready?" he asked.
Liff Hyatt, who had come in while he was reading,nodded a "Yes," and pushed forward to the side of themattress. The young man on the bench who seemed toassert some sort of right of kinship with the deadwoman, got to his feet again, and the proprietor64 of thestove joined him. Between them they raised up themattress; but their movements were unsteady, and thecoat slipped to the floor, revealing the poor body inits helpless misery65. Charity, picking up the coat,covered her mother once more. Liff had brought alantern, and the old woman who had already spoken tookit up, and opened the door to let the little processionpass out. The wind had dropped, and the night was verydark and bitterly cold. The old woman walkedahead, the lantern shaking in her hand andspreading out before her a pale patch of dead grass andcoarse-leaved weeds enclosed in an immensity ofblackness.
Mr. Miles took Charity by the arm, and side by sidethey walked behind the mattress. At length the oldwoman with the lantern stopped, and Charity saw thelight fall on the stooping shoulders of the bearers andon a ridge18 of upheaved earth over which they werebending. Mr. Miles released her arm and approached thehollow on the other side of the ridge; and while themen stooped down, lowering the mattress into the grave,he began to speak again.
"Man that is born of woman hath but a short time tolive and is full of misery....He cometh up and is cutdown...he fleeth as it were a shadow....Yet, O Lord Godmost holy, O Lord most mighty, O holy and mercifulSaviour, deliver us not into the bitter pains ofeternal death....""Easy there...is she down?" piped the claimant to thestove; and the young man called over his shoulder:
"Lift the light there, can't you?"There was a pause, during which the light floateduncertainly over the open grave. Someone bentover and pulled out Mr. Miles's coat----("No, no--leave the handkerchief," he interposed)--and then LiffHyatt, coming forward with a spade, began to shovel66 inthe earth.
"Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty67 God of His greatmercy to take unto Himself the soul of our dear sisterhere departed, we therefore commit her body to theground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust todust..." Liff's gaunt shoulders rose and bent in thelantern light as he dashed the clods of earth into thegrave. "God--it's froze a'ready," he muttered,spitting into his palm and passing his ragged shirt-sleeve across his perspiring68 face.
"Through our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change ourvile body that it may be like unto His glorious body,according to the mighty working, whereby He is able tosubdue all things unto Himself..." The last spadeful ofearth fell on the vile69 body of Mary Hyatt, and Liffrested on his spade, his shoulder blades still heavingwith the effort.
"Lord, have mercy upon us, Christ have mercy upon us,Lord have mercy upon us..."Mr. Miles took the lantern from the old woman'shand and swept its light across the circle ofbleared faces. "Now kneel down, all of you," hecommanded, in a voice of authority that Charity hadnever heard. She knelt down at the edge of the grave,and the others, stiffly and hesitatingly, got to theirknees beside her. Mr. Miles knelt, too. "And now praywith me--you know this prayer," he said, and he began:
"Our Father which art in Heaven..." One or two of thewomen falteringly70 took the words up, and when he ended,the lank-haired man flung himself on the neck of thetall youth. "It was this way," he said. "I tole herthe night before, I says to her..." The reminiscenceended in a sob71.
Mr. Miles had been getting into his coat again. Hecame up to Charity, who had remained passively kneelingby the rough mound72 of earth.
"My child, you must come. It's very late."She lifted her eyes to his face: he seemed to speak outof another world.
"I ain't coming: I'm going to stay here.""Here? Where? What do you mean?""These are my folks. I'm going to stay with them."Mr. Miles lowered his voice. "But it's notpossible--you don't know what you are doing. Youcan't stay among these people: you must come with me."She shook her head and rose from her knees. The groupabout the grave had scattered73 in the darkness, but theold woman with the lantern stood waiting. Her mournfulwithered face was not unkind, and Charity went up toher.
"Have you got a place where I can lie down for thenight?" she asked. Liff came up, leading the buggy outof the night. He looked from one to the other with hisfeeble smile. "She's my mother. She'll take youhome," he said; and he added, raising his voice tospeak to the old woman: "It's the girl from lawyerRoyall's--Mary's girl...you remember...."The woman nodded and raised her sad old eyes toCharity's. When Mr. Miles and Liff clambered into thebuggy she went ahead with the lantern to show them thetrack they were to follow; then she turned back, and insilence she and Charity walked away together throughthe night.
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retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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retrace
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| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
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saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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crookedly
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| adv. 弯曲地，不诚实地 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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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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brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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averting
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| 防止，避免( avert的现在分词 )； 转移 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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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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scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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darts
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| n.掷飞镖游戏；飞镖( dart的名词复数 )；急驰，飞奔v.投掷，投射( dart的第三人称单数 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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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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effaced
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| v.擦掉( efface的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；超越；使黯然失色 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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bleaker
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| 阴冷的( bleak的比较级 )； （状况）无望的； 没有希望的； 光秃的 | |
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bleached
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| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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ledges
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| n.（墙壁，悬崖等）突出的狭长部分( ledge的名词复数 )；（平窄的）壁架；横档；（尤指）窗台 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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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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nettles
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| n.荨麻( nettle的名词复数 ) | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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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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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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defensive
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| adj.防御的；防卫的；防守的 | |
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whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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trump
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| n.王牌，法宝；v.打出王牌，吹喇叭 | |
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corruptible
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| 易腐败的，可以贿赂的 | |
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corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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subduing
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| 征服( subdue的现在分词 )； 克制； 制服； 色变暗 | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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falteringly
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| 口吃地，支吾地 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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