Lazily Ernest stretched his limbs on the beach of Atlantic City. The sea, that purger1 of sick souls, had washed away the fever and the fret2 of the last few days. The wind was in his hair and the spray was in his breath, while the rays of the sun kissed his bare arms and legs. He rolled over in the glittering sand in the sheer joy of living.
Now and then a wavelet stole far into the beach, as if to caress3 him, but pined away ere it could reach its goal. It was as if the enamoured sea was stretching out its arms to him. Who knows, perhaps through the clear water some green-eyed nymph, or a young sea-god with the tang of the sea in his hair, was peering amorously4 at the boy's red mouth. The people of the deep love the red warm blood of human kind. It is always the young that they lure5 to their watery6 haunts, never the shrivelled limbs that totter7 shivering to the grave.
Such fancies came to Ernest as he lay on the shore in his bathing attire8, happy, thoughtless,--animal.
The sun and the sea seemed to him two lovers vying9 for his favor. The sudden change of environment had brought complete relaxation10 and had quieted his rebellious11, assertive12 soul. He was no longer a solitary13 unit but one with wind and water, herb and beach and shell. Almost voluptuously14 his hand toyed with the hot sand that glided15 caressingly16 through his fingers and buried his breast and shoulder under its glittering burden.
A summer girl who passed lowered her eyes coquettishly. He watched her without stirring. Even to open his mouth or to smile would have seemed too much exertion17.
Thus he lay for hours. When at length noon drew nigh, it cost him a great effort of will to shake off his drowsy18 mood and exchange his airy costume for the conventional habilaments of the dining-room.
He had taken lodgings19 in a fashionable hotel. An unusual stroke of good luck, hack-work that paid outrageously20 well, had made it possible for him to idle for a time without a thought of the unpleasant necessity of making money.
One single article to which he signed his name only with reluctance21 had brought to him more gear than a series of golden sonnets22.
"Surely," he thought, "the social revolution ought to begin from above. What right has the bricklayer to grumble23 when he receives for a week's work almost more than I for a song?"
Thus soliloquising, he reached the dining-room. The scene that unfolded itself before him was typical--the table over-loaded, the women over-dressed.
The luncheon24 was already in full course when he came. He mumbled25 an apology and seated himself on the only remaining chair next to a youth who reminded him of a well-dressed dummy26. With slight weariness his eyes wandered in all directions for more congenial faces when they were arrested by a lady on the opposite side of the table. She was clad in a silk robe with curiously27 embroidered28 net-work that revealed a nervous and delicate throat. The rich effect of the net-work was relieved by the studied simplicity29 with which her heavy chestnut-colored hair was gathered in a single knot. Her face was turned away from him, but there was something in the carriage of her head that struck him as familiar. When at last she looked him in the face, the glass almost fell from his hand: it was Ethel Brandenbourg. She seemed to notice his embarrassment30 and smiled. When she opened her lips to speak, he knew by the haunting sweetness of the voice that he was not mistaken.
"Tell me," she said wistfully, "you have forgotten me? They all have."
He hastened to assure her that he had not forgotten her. He recollected31 now that he had first been introduced to her in Walkham's house some years ago, when a mere32 college boy, he had been privileged to attend one of that master's famous receptions. She had looked quite resolute33 and very happy then, not at all like the woman who had stared so strangely at Reginald in the Broadway restaurant.
He regarded this encounter as very fortunate. He knew so much of her personal history that it almost seemed to him as if they had been intimate for years. She, too, felt on familiar ground with him. Neither as much as whispered the name of Reginald Clarke. Yet it was he, and the knowledge of what he was to them, that linked their souls with a common bond.
1 purger | |
清除别人者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 fret | |
v.(使)烦恼;(使)焦急;(使)腐蚀,(使)磨损 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 caress | |
vt./n.爱抚,抚摸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 amorously | |
adv.好色地,妖艳地;脉;脉脉;眽眽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 lure | |
n.吸引人的东西,诱惑物;vt.引诱,吸引 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 watery | |
adj.有水的,水汪汪的;湿的,湿润的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 totter | |
v.蹒跚, 摇摇欲坠;n.蹒跚的步子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 attire | |
v.穿衣,装扮[同]array;n.衣着;盛装 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 vying | |
adj.竞争的;比赛的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 relaxation | |
n.松弛,放松;休息;消遣;娱乐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 rebellious | |
adj.造反的,反抗的,难控制的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 assertive | |
adj.果断的,自信的,有冲劲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 voluptuously | |
adv.风骚地,体态丰满地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 glided | |
v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 caressingly | |
爱抚地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 exertion | |
n.尽力,努力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 drowsy | |
adj.昏昏欲睡的,令人发困的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 lodgings | |
n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 outrageously | |
凶残地; 肆无忌惮地; 令人不能容忍地; 不寻常地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 reluctance | |
n.厌恶,讨厌,勉强,不情愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 sonnets | |
n.十四行诗( sonnet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 grumble | |
vi.抱怨;咕哝;n.抱怨,牢骚;咕哝,隆隆声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 luncheon | |
n.午宴,午餐,便宴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 mumbled | |
含糊地说某事,叽咕,咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 dummy | |
n.假的东西;(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 embroidered | |
adj.绣花的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 embarrassment | |
n.尴尬;使人为难的人(事物);障碍;窘迫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 recollected | |
adj.冷静的;镇定的;被回忆起的;沉思默想的v.记起,想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 resolute | |
adj.坚决的,果敢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |