“Ah!” he said. “What do you think of her?”
“Fascinating.”
“I’ll tell her that, she won’t turn a hair. The earth’s most matter-of-fact young woman. She seems to be vamping her neighbour all right. Who is he?”
“Lord Saxenden.”
“Oh! And who’s the John Bull at the corner on our side?”
“Wilfred Bentworth, ‘the Squire,’ they call him.”
“And next to you — talking to Mrs. Michael?”
“That’s Professor Hallorsen from America.”
“He’s a fine-looking chap.”
“So everybody says,” said Dinny, drily.
“Don’t you think so?”
“Men oughtn’t to be so good-looking.”
“Delighted to hear you say that.”
“Why?”
“It means that the ugly have a look in.”
“Oh! Do you often go trawling?”
“You know, I’m terribly glad I’ve met you at last.”
“At last? You’d never even heard of me this morning.”
“No. But that doesn’t prevent you from being my ideal.”
“Goodness! Is this the way they have in the Navy?”
“Yes. The first thing they teach us is to make up our minds quickly.”
“Mr. Tasburgh —”
“Alan.”
“I begin to understand the wife in every port.”
“I,” said young Tasburgh, seriously, “haven’t a single one. And you’re the first I’ve ever wanted.”
“Oo! Or is it: Coo!”
“Fact! You see, the Navy is very strenuous9. When we see what we want, we have to go for it at once. We get so few chances.”
Dinny laughed. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Then you weren’t at Zeebrugge?”
“I was.”
“I see. It’s become a habit to lay yourself alongside.”
“And get blown up for it.”
Her eyes rested on him kindly10.
“I am now going to talk to my enemy.”
“Enemy? Can I do anything about that?”
“His demise11 would be of no service to me, till he’s done what I want.”
“Sorry for that; he looks to me dangerous.”
“Mrs. Charles is lying in wait for you,” murmured Dinny, and she turned to Hallorsen, who said deferentially12: “Miss Cherrell,” as if she had arrived from the moon.
“I hear you shot amazingly, Professor.”
“Why! I’m not accustomed to birds asking for it as they do here. I’ll maybe get used to that in time. But all this is quite an experience for me.”
“Everything in the garden lovely?”
“It certainly is. To be in the same house with you is a privilege I feel very deeply, Miss Cherrell.”
“‘Cannon13 to right of me, cannon to left of me!’” thought Dinny.
“And have you,” she asked, suddenly, “been thinking what amend14 you can make to my brother?”
Hallorsen lowered his voice.
“I have a great admiration for you, Miss Cherrell, and I will do what you tell me. If you wish, I will write to your papers and withdraw the remarks in my book.”
“And what would you want for that, Professor Hallorsen?”
“Why, surely, nothing but your goodwill15.”
“My brother has given me his diary to publish.”
“If that will be a relief to you — go to it.”
“I wonder if you two ever began to understand each other.”
“I judge we never did.”
“And yet you were only four white men, weren’t you? May I ask exactly what annoyed you in my brother?”
“You’d have it up against me if I were to tell you.”
“Oh! no, I CAN be fair.”
“Well, first of all, I found he’d made up his mind about too many things, and he wouldn’t change it. There we were in a country none of us knew anything about, amongst Indians and people that were only half civilised; but the captain wanted everything done as you might in England: he wanted rules, and he wanted ’em kept. Why, I judge he would have dressed for dinner if we’d have let him.”
“I think you should remember,” said Dinny, taken aback, “that we English have found formality pay all over the world. We succeed in all sorts of wild out of the world places because we stay English. Reading his diary, I think my brother failed from not being stolid16 enough.”
“Well, he is not your John Bull type,” he nodded towards the end of the table, “like Lord Saxenden and Mr. Bentworth there; maybe I’d have understood him better if he were. No, he’s mighty17 high-strung and very tight held-in; his emotions kind of eat him up from within. He’s like a race-horse in a hansom cab. Yours is an old family, I should judge, Miss Cherrell.”
“Not yet in its dotage18.”
She saw his eyes leave her, rest on Adrian across the table, move on to her Aunt Wilmet, and thence to Lady Mont.
“I would like to talk to your uncle the Curator about old families,” he said.
“What else was there in my brother that you didn’t like?”
“Well, he gave me the feeling that I was a great husky.”
Dinny raised her brows a little.
“There we were,” went on Hallorsen, “in the hell of a country — pardon me! — a country of raw metal. Well, I was raw metal myself, out to meet and beat raw metal; and he just wouldn’t be.”
“Perhaps couldn’t be. Don’t you think what was really wrong was your being American and his being English? Confess, Professor, that you don’t like us English.”
Hallorsen laughed.
“I like YOU terribly.”
“Thank you, but every rule —”
“Well,” his face hardened, “I just don’t like the assumption of a superiority that I don’t believe in.”
“Have we a monopoly of that? What about the French?”
“If I were an orang-outang, Miss Cherrell, I wouldn’t care a hoot19 whether a chimpanzee thought himself superior.”
“I see; too far removed. But, forgive me, Professor, what about yourselves? Are you not the chosen people? And don’t you frequently say so? Would you exchange with any other people in the world?”
“I certainly would not.”
“But isn’t that an assumption of a superiority that WE don’t believe in?”
He laughed. “You have me there; but we haven’t touched rock-bottom in this matter. There’s a snob20 in every man. We’re a new people; we haven’t gotten your roots and your old things; we haven’t gotten your habit of taking ourselves for granted; we’re too multiple and various and too much in the making. We have a lot of things that you could envy us besides our dollars and our bathrooms.”
“What ought we to envy you? I should very much like it made clear to me.”
“Well, Miss Cherrell, we know that we have qualities and energy and faith and opportunities that you just ought to envy; and when you don’t do it, we feel we’ve no use for that kind of gone-dead, bone-superior attitude. It’s like a man of sixty looking down his nose at a youth of thirty; and there’s no such God-darned — pardon me! — mistake as that.”
Dinny sat looking at him, silent and impressed.
“Where,” Hallorsen went on, “you British irritate us is that you’ve lost the spirit of enquiry; or if you’ve still gotten it, you have a dandy way of hiding it up. I judge there are many ways in which we irritate you. But we irritate your epidermis21 and you irritate our nerve centres. That’s about all there is to it, Miss Cherrell.”
“I see,” said Dinny; “that’s terribly interesting and I daresay quite true. My aunt’s getting up, so I must remove my epidermis and leave your nerve centres to quiet down.” She rose, and over her shoulder smiled back at him.
Young Tasburgh was at the door. At him too she smiled, and murmured: “Talk to my friend the enemy; he’s worth it.”
In the drawing-room she sought out the ‘leopardess,’ but converse22 between them suffered from the inhibition of a mutual23 admiration which neither wished to show. Jean Tasburgh was just twenty-one, but she impressed Dinny as older than herself. Her knowledge of things and people seemed precise and decided25, if not profound; her mind was made up on all the subjects they touched on; she would be a marvellous person — Dinny thought — in a crisis, or if driven to the wall; would be loyal to her own side, but want to rule whatever roost she was in. But alongside her hard efficiency Dinny could well perceive a strange, almost feline26 fascination27 that would go to any man’s head, if she chose that it should. Hubert would succumb28 to her at once! And at that conclusion his sister was the more doubtful whether she wished him to. Here was the very girl to afford the swift distraction29 she was seeking for her brother. But was he strong enough and alive enough for the distractor? Suppose he fell in love with her and she would have none of him? Or suppose he fell in love with her and she had all of him! And then — money! If Hubert received no appointment or lost his commission what would they live on? He had only three hundred a year without his pay, and the girl presumably nothing. The situation was perverse30. If Hubert could plunge31 again into soldiering, he would not need distraction. If he continued to be shelved, he would need distraction but could not afford it. And yet — was not this exactly the sort of girl who would carve out a career somehow for the man she married? So they talked of Italian pictures.
“By the way,” said Jean, suddenly, “Lord Saxenden says you want him to do something for you.”
“Oh!”
“What is it? Because I’ll make him.”
Dinny smiled.
“How?”
Jean gave her a look from under her lashes32.
“It’ll be quite easy. What is it you want from him?”
“I want my brother back in his regiment33, or, better — some post for him. He’s under a cloud owing to that Bolivian expedition with Professor Hallorsen.”
“The big man? Is that why you had him down here?”
Dinny had a feeling that she would soon have no clothes on.
“If you want frankness, yes.”
“He’s rather fine to look at.”
“So your brother said.”
“Alan’s the most generous person in the world. He’s taken a toss over you.”
“So he was telling me.”
“He’s an ingenuous34 child. But, seriously, shall I go for Lord Saxenden?”
“Why should you worry?”
“I like to put my fingers into pies. Give me a free hand, and I’ll bring you that appointment on a charger.”
“I am credibly35 informed,” said Dinny, “that Lord Saxenden is a tough proposition.”
Jean stretched herself.
“Is your brother Hubert like you?”
“Not a scrap36; he’s dark, and brown-eyed.”
“You know our families intermarried a long way back. Are you interested in breeding? I breed Airedales, and I don’t believe much in either the tail male or the tail female theories. Prepotency can be handed down through either male or female, and at any point of the pedigree.”
“Perhaps, but except for not being covered with yellow varnish37, my father and my brother are both very like the earliest portrait we have of a male ancestor.”
“Well, we’ve got a Fitzherbert woman who married a Tasburgh in 1547, and she’s the spit of me except for the ruff; she’s even got my hands.” And the girl spread out to Dinny two long brown hands, crisping them slightly as she did so.
“A strain,” she went on, “may crop out after generations that have seemed free from it. It’s awfully38 interesting. I should like to see your brother, if he’s so unlike you.”
Dinny smiled.
“I’ll get him to drive over from Condaford and fetch me. You may not think him worth your wiles39.”
And at this moment the men came in.
“They do so look,” murmured Dinny, “as if they were saying: ‘Do I want to sit next to a female, and if so, why?’ Men are funny after dinner.”
Sir Lawrence’s voice broke the hush40:
“Saxenden, you and the Squire for Bridge?”
At those words Aunt Wilmet and Lady Henrietta rose automatically from the sofa where they had been having a quiet difference, and passed towards where they would continue the motion for the rest of the evening; they were followed closely by Lord Saxenden and the Squire.
Jean Tasburgh grimaced41: “Can’t you just see Bridge growing on people like a fungus42?”
“Another table?” said Sir Lawrence: “Adrian? No. Professor?”
“Why, I think not, Sir Lawrence.”
“Fleur, you and I then against Em and Charles. Come along, let’s get it over.”
“You can’t see it growing on Uncle Lawrence,” murmured Dinny. “Oh! Professor! Do you know Miss Tasburgh?”
Hallorsen bowed.
“It’s an amazing night,” said young Tasburgh on her other side: “Couldn’t we go out?”
“Michael,” said Jean, rising, “we’re going out.”
The night had been justly described. The foliage43 of holmoaks and elms clung on the dark air unstirring; stars were diamond bright, and there was no dew; the flowers had colour only when peered into; and sounds were lonely — the hooting44 of an owl24 from away towards the river, the passing drone of a chafer’s flight. The air was quite warm, and through the cut cypresses45 the lighted house stared vaguely46. Dinny and the sailor strolled in front.
“This is the sort of night,” he said, “when you can see the Scheme a bit. My old Governor is a dear old boy, but his Services are enough to kill all belief. Have you any left?”
“In God, do you mean?” said Dinny: “Ye-es, without knowing anything about it.”
“Don’t YOU find it impossible to think of God except in the open and alone?”
“I HAVE been emotionalised in church.”
“You want something beyond emotion, I think; you want to grasp infinite invention going on in infinite stillness. Perpetual motion and perpetual quiet at the same time. That American seems a decent chap.”
“Did you talk about cousinly love?”
“I kept that for you. One of our great-great-great-great-grandfathers was the same, under Anne; we’ve got his portrait, terrible, in a wig47. So we’re cousins — the love follows.”
“Does it? Blood cuts both ways. It certainly makes every difference glare out.”
“Thinking of Americans?”
Dinny nodded.
“All the same,” said the sailor, “there isn’t a question in my mind that in a scrap I’d rather have an American with me than any other kind of foreigner. I should say we all felt like that in the Fleet.”
“Isn’t that just because of language being the same?”
“No. It’s some sort of grain and view of things in common.”
“But surely that can only apply to British-stock Americans?”
“That’s still the American who counts, especially if you lump in the Dutch and Scandinavian-stock Americans, like this fellow Hallorsen. We’re very much that stock ourselves.”
“Why not German-Americans, then?”
“To some extent. But look at the shape of the German head. By and large, the Germans are Central or Eastern Europeans.”
“You ought to be talking to my Uncle Adrian.”
“Is that the tall man with the goatee? I like his face.”
“He’s a dear,” said Dinny. “We’ve lost the others and I can feel dew.”
“Just one moment. I was perfectly48 serious in what I said at dinner. You ARE my ideal, and I hope you’ll let me pursue it.”
Dinny curtsied.
“Young Sir, you are very flattering. ‘But —’ she went on with a slight blush —‘I would point out that you have a noble profession —’”
“Are you never serious?”
“Seldom, when the dew is falling.”
He seized her hand.
“Well, you will be one day; and I shall be the cause of it.”
Slightly returning the pressure of his hand, Dinny disengaged hers, and walked on.
“Pleached alley49 — can you stand that expression? It seems to give joy to so many people.”
“Fair cousin,” said young Tasburgh, “I shall be thinking of you day and night. Don’t trouble to answer.”
And he held open a French window.
Cicely Muskham was at the piano, and Michael standing50 behind her.
Dinny went up to him.
“If I go to Fleur’s sitting-room51 now, could you show Lord Saxenden where it is, Michael? If he doesn’t come by twelve, I shall go to bed. I must sort out the bits I want to read to him.”
“All right, Dinny. I’ll leave him on the door-mat. Good luck!”
Fetching the diary, Dinny threw open the window of the little sitting-room and sat down to make her selections. It was half-past-ten, and not a sound disturbed her. She selected six fairly long passages which seemed to illustrate52 the impossible nature of her brother’s task. Then, lighting53 a cigarette, she waited, leaning out. The night was neither more nor less ‘amazing’ than it had been, but her own mood was deeper. Perpetual motion in perpetual quiet? If that, indeed, were God, He was not of much immediate54 use to mortals but why should He be? When Saxenden tailored the hare and it had cried, had God heard and quivered? When her hand was pressed, had He seen and smiled? When Hubert in the Bolivian wilds had lain fever-stricken, listening to the cry of the loon55, had He sent an angel with quinine? When that star up there went out billions of years hence, and hung cold and lightless, would He note it on his shirt-cuff? The million million leaves and blades of grass down there that made the texture56 of the deeper darkness, the million million stars that gave the light by which she saw that darkness, all — all the result of perpetual motion in endless quiet, all part of God. And she herself, and the smoke of her cigarette; the jasmine under her nose, whose colour was invisible, and the movement of her brain, deciding that it was not yellow; that dog barking so far away that the sound was as a thread by which the woof of silence could be grasped; all — all endowed with the purpose remote, endless, pervading57, incomprehensible, of God!
She shivered and withdrew her head. Sitting down in an armchair, with the diary in her lap, she gazed round the room. Fleur’s taste had remodelled58 it; there was fine colour in the carpet, the light was softly shaded and fell pleasantly on her sea-green frock and hands resting on the diary. The long day had tired her. She lay back tilting59 up her face, looking drowsily60 at the frieze61 of baked China Cupids with which some former Lady Mont had caused the room to be encircled. Fat funny little creatures they seemed to her — thus tied by rosy62 chains to the perpetual examination of each other’s behinds from stated distances. Chase of the rosy hours, of the rosy —! Dinny’s eyelids63 drooped64, her lips opened, she slept. And the discreet65 light visiting her face and hair and neck revealed their negligence66 in slumber67, their impudent68 daintiness, as of the fair Italians, so very English, whom Botticelli painted. A tendril of short ripe hair had come apart, a smile strayed off and on to the parted lips; eyelashes, a little darker than the hair, winked69 flutteringly on cheeks which seemed to have a sort of transparence; and in the passing of her dreams, the nose twitched70 and quivered as if mocking at its slight tiptilt. Uplifted thus, the face looked as if but a twist were needed to pluck it from its white stalk of neck . . . .
With a start her head came to the erect71. He who had been ‘Snubby Bantham’ was standing in the middle of the room, regarding her with a hard blue unwinking stare.
“Sorry,” he said; “sorry! You were having a nice snooze.”
“I was dreaming of mince72 pies,” said Dinny. “It’s terribly good of you to come at whatever time of night it is.”
“Seven bells. You won’t be long, I suppose. D’you mind if I smoke a pipe?”
He sat down on a sofa opposite to her and began to fill his pipe. He had the look of a man who meant her to get it over, and was going to reserve judgment73 when she had. She better understood at that moment the conduct of public affairs. ‘Of course,’ she thought, ‘he’s giving his quo and he doesn’t see his quid. That’s the result of Jean!’ And whether she felt gratitude74 to the ‘leopardess’ for having deflected75 his interest, or whether a sort of jealousy76, neither she nor any other woman would have told. Her heart was beating, however, and in a quick, matter-of-fact voice she began. She read through three of the passages before she looked at him again. His face, but for the lips sucking at his pipe, might have been made of a well-coloured wood. His eyes still regarded her in a curious and now slightly hostile way, as if he were thinking: ‘This young woman is trying to make me feel something. It’s very late.’
With an increasing hatred77 of her task Dinny hurried on. The fourth passage was — except for the last — the most harrowing, at least to herself; and her voice quivered a little as she finished it.
“Bit thick that,” said Lord Saxenden; “mules have no feelings, you know — most extraordinary brutes78.”
Dinny’s temper rose; she would not look at him again. And she read on. This time she lost herself in that tortured recital79, thus put into sound for the first time. She finished, breathless, quivering all over with the effort of keeping her voice controlled. Lord Saxenden’s chin was resting on his hand. He was asleep.
She stood looking at him, as he not long before had looked at her. For the moment she was on the point of jerking his hand from under his chin. Her sense of humour saved her, and gazing at him rather as Venus gazes at Mars in Botticelli’s picture, she took a sheet of notepaper from Fleur’s bureau, wrote the words: ‘So sorry I exhausted80 you. Good-night,’ and laid it with infinite precaution on his knee. Rolling up the diary, she stole to the door, opened it and looked back, faint sounds, that would soon be snoring, were coming from him. ‘Appeal to his feelings and he sleeps,’ she thought: ‘That’s exactly how he must have won the war.’ And, turning, she found herself staring up at Professor Hallorsen.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
slanting
|
|
| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
oblique
|
|
| adj.斜的，倾斜的，无诚意的，不坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
genial
|
|
| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
squire
|
|
| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
calloused
|
|
| adj.粗糙的，粗硬的，起老茧的v.（使）硬结，（使）起茧( callous的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）冷酷无情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
strenuous
|
|
| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
demise
|
|
| n.死亡；v.让渡，遗赠，转让 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
deferentially
|
|
| adv.表示敬意地，谦恭地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
cannon
|
|
| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
amend
|
|
| vt.修改，修订，改进；n.[pl.]赔罪，赔偿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
goodwill
|
|
| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
stolid
|
|
| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
dotage
|
|
| n.年老体衰；年老昏聩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
hoot
|
|
| n.鸟叫声，汽车的喇叭声； v.使汽车鸣喇叭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
snob
|
|
| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
epidermis
|
|
| n.表皮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
converse
|
|
| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
mutual
|
|
| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
owl
|
|
| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
feline
|
|
| adj.猫科的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
fascination
|
|
| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
succumb
|
|
| v.屈服，屈从；死 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
distraction
|
|
| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
perverse
|
|
| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
plunge
|
|
| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
lashes
|
|
| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
regiment
|
|
| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
ingenuous
|
|
| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
credibly
|
|
| ad.可信地；可靠地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
scrap
|
|
| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
varnish
|
|
| n.清漆；v.上清漆；粉饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
awfully
|
|
| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
wiles
|
|
| n.（旨在欺骗或吸引人的）诡计，花招；欺骗，欺诈( wile的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
hush
|
|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
grimaced
|
|
| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
fungus
|
|
| n.真菌，真菌类植物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
hooting
|
|
| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
cypresses
|
|
| n.柏属植物，柏树( cypress的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
wig
|
|
| n.假发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
alley
|
|
| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
sitting-room
|
|
| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
illustrate
|
|
| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
lighting
|
|
| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
loon
|
|
| n.狂人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
texture
|
|
| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
pervading
|
|
| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
remodelled
|
|
| v.改变…的结构[形状]( remodel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
tilting
|
|
| 倾斜，倾卸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
drowsily
|
|
| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
frieze
|
|
| n.(墙上的)横饰带，雕带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
eyelids
|
|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
drooped
|
|
| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
discreet
|
|
| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
negligence
|
|
| n.疏忽，玩忽，粗心大意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
slumber
|
|
| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
impudent
|
|
| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
winked
|
|
| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
twitched
|
|
| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
mince
|
|
| n.切碎物；v.切碎，矫揉做作地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
deflected
|
|
| 偏离的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
jealousy
|
|
| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
brutes
|
|
| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
recital
|
|
| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |