The coldness soon broke out into open chiding5. One grievous failing of Elizabeth's was her occasional pretty and picturesque6 use of dialect words--those terrible marks of the beast to the truly genteel.
It was dinner-time--they never met except at meals--and she happened to say when he was rising from table, wishing to show him something, "If you'll bide7 where you be a minute, father, I'll get it."
"'Bide where you be,'" he echoed sharply, "Good God, are you only fit to carry wash to a pig-trough, that ye use such words as those?"
She reddened with shame and sadness.
"I meant 'Stay where you are,' father," she said, in a low, humble8 voice. "I ought to have been more careful."
He made no reply, and went out of the room.
The sharp reprimand was not lost upon her, and in time it came to pass that for "fay" she said "succeed"; that she no longer spoke9 of "dumbledores" but of "humble bees"; no longer said of young men and women that they "walked together," but that they were "engaged"; that she grew to talk of "greggles" as "wild hyacinths"; that when she had not slept she did not quaintly10 tell the servants next morning that she had been "hag-rid," but that she had "suffered from indigestion."
These improvements, however, are somewhat in advance of the story. Henchard, being uncultivated himself, was the bitterest critic the fair girl could possibly have had of her own lapses--really slight now, for she read omnivorously11. A gratuitous12 ordeal13 was in store for her in the matter of her handwriting. She was passing the diningroom door one evening, and had occasion to go in for something. It was not till she had opened the door that she knew the Mayor was there in the company of a man with whom he transacted15 business.
"Here, Elizabeth-Jane," he said, looking round at her, "just write down what I tell you--a few words of an agreement for me and this gentleman to sign. I am a poor tool with a pen."
"Be jowned, and so be I," said the gentleman.
She brought forward blotting-book, paper, and ink, and sat down.
"Now then--'An agreement entered into this sixteenth day of October'--write that first."
She started the pen in an elephantine march across the sheet. It was a splendid round, bold hand of her own conception, a style that would have stamped a woman as Minerva's own in more recent days. But other ideas reigned16 then: Henchard's creed17 was that proper young girls wrote ladies'-hand--nay, he believed that bristling18 characters were as innate19 and inseparable a part of refined womanhood as sex itself. Hence when, instead of scribbling20, like the Princess Ida,-
"In such a hand as when a field of corn
Bows all its ears before the roaring East,"
Elizabeth-Jane produced a line of chain-shot and sand-bags, he reddened in angry shame for her, and, peremptorily21 saying, "Never mind--I'll finish it," dismissed her there and then.
Her considerate disposition22 became a pitfall23 to her now. She was, it must be admitted, sometimes provokingly and unnecessarily willing to saddle herself with manual labours. She would go to the kitchen instead of ringing, "Not to make Phoebe come up twice." She went down on her knees, shovel24 in hand, when the cat overturned the coal-scuttle; moreover, she would persistently25 thank the parlour-maid for everything, till one day, as soon as the girl was gone from the room, Henchard broke out with, "Good God, why dostn't leave off thanking that girl as if she were a goddess-born! Don't I pay her a dozen pound a year to do things for 'ee?" Elizabeth shrank so visibly at the exclamation26 that he became sorry a few minutes after, and said that he did not mean to be rough.
These domestic exhibitions were the small protruding27 needlerocks which suggested rather than revealed what was underneath28. But his passion had less terror for her than his coldness. The increasing frequency of the latter mood told her the sad news that he disliked her with a growing dislike. The more interesting that her appearance and manners became under the softening29 influences which she could now command, and in her wisdom did command, the more she seemed to estrange30 him. Sometimes she caught him looking at her with a louring invidiousness that she could hardly bear. Not knowing his secret it was cruel mockery that she should for the first time excite his animosity when she had taken his surname.
But the most terrible ordeal was to come. Elizabeth had latterly been accustomed of an afternoon to present a cup of cider or ale and bread-and-cheese to Nance31 Mockridge, who worked in the yard wimbling hay-bonds. Nance accepted this offering thankfully at first; afterwards as a matter of course. On a day when Henchard was on the premises32 he saw his step-daughter enter the hay-barn on this errand; and, as there was no clear spot on which to deposit the provisions, she at once set to work arranging two trusses of hay as a table, Mockridge meanwhile standing33 with her hands on her hips34, easefully looking at the preparations on her behalf.
"Elizabeth, come here!" said Henchard; and she obeyed.
"Why do you lower yourself so confoundedly?" he said with suppressed passion. "Haven't I told you o't fifty times? Hey? Making yourself a drudge35 for a common workwoman of such a character as hers! Why, ye'll disgrace me to the dust!"
Now these words were uttered loud enough to reach Nance inside the barn door, who fired up immediately at the slur36 upon her personal character. Coming to the door she cried regardless of consequences, "Come to that, Mr. Henchard, I can let 'ee know she've waited on worse!"
"Then she must have had more charity than sense," said Henchard.
"O no, she hadn't. 'Twere not for charity but for hire; and at a public-house in this town!"
"It is not true!" cried Henchard indignantly.
"Just ask her," said Nance, folding her naked arms in such a manner that she could comfortably scratch her elbows.
Henchard glanced at Elizabeth-Jane, whose complexion37, now pink and white from confinement38, lost nearly all of the former colour. "What does this mean?" he said to her. "Anything or nothing?"
"It is true," said Elizabeth-Jane. "But it was only--"
"Did you do it, or didn't you? Where was it?"
"At the Three Mariners39; one evening for a little while, when we were staying there."
Nance glanced triumphantly40 at Henchard, and sailed into the barn; for assuming that she was to be discharged on the instant she had resolved to make the most of her victory. Henchard, however, said nothing about discharging her. Unduly41 sensitive on such points by reason of his own past, he had the look of one completely ground down to the last indignity42. Elizabeth followed him to the house like a culprit; but when she got inside she could not see him. Nor did she see him again that day.
Convinced of the scathing43 damage to his local repute and position that must have been caused by such a fact, though it had never before reached his own ears, Henchard showed a positive distaste for the presence of this girl not his own, whenever he encountered her. He mostly dined with the farmers at the market-room of one of the two chief hotels, leaving her in utter solitude44. Could he have seen how she made use of those silent hours he might have found reason to reserve his judgment45 on her quality. She read and took notes incessantly46, mastering facts with painful laboriousness47, but never flinching48 from her self-imposed task. She began the study of Latin, incited49 by the Roman characteristics of the town she lived in. "If I am not well-informed it shall be by no fault of my own," she would say to herself through the tears that would occasionally glide50 down her peachy cheeks when she was fairly baffled by the portentous51 obscurity of many of these educational works.
Thus she lived on, a dumb, deep-feeling, great-eyed creature, construed52 by not a single contiguous being; quenching53 with patient fortitude54 her incipient55 interest in Farfrae, because it seemed to be one-sided, unmaidenly, and unwise. True, that for reasons best known to herself, she had, since Farfrae's dismissal, shifted her quarters from the back room affording a view of the yard (which she had occupied with such zest) to a front chamber56 overlooking the street; but as for the young man, whenever he passed the house he seldom or never turned his head.
Winter had almost come, and unsettled weather made her still more dependent upon indoor resources. But there were certain early winter days in Casterbridge--days of firmamental58 exhaustion59 which followed angry south-westerly tempests--when, if the sun shone, the air was like velvet60. She seized on these days for her periodical visits to the spot where her mother lay buried--the still-used burialground of the old Roman-British city, whose curious feature was this, its continuity as a place of sepulture. Mrs. Henchard's dust mingled61 with the dust of women who lay ornamented62 with glass hair-pins and amber57 necklaces, and men who held in their mouths coins of Hadrian, Posthumus, and the Constantines.
Half-past ten in the morning was about her hour for seeking this spot--a time when the town avenues were deserted63 as the avenues of Karnac. Business had long since passed down them into its daily cells, and Leisure had not arrived there. So Elizabeth-Jane walked and read, or looked over the edge of the book to think, and thus reached the churchyard.
There, approaching her mother's grave she saw a solitary64 dark figure in the middle of the gravel65-walk. This figure, too, was reading; but not from a book: the words which engrossed66 it being the inscription67 on Mrs. Henchard's tombstone. The personage was in mourning like herself, was about her age and size, and might have been her wraith68 or double, but for the fact that it was a lady much more beautifully dressed than she. Indeed, comparatively indifferent as Elizabeth-Jane was to dress, unless for some temporary whim69 or purpose, her eyes were arrested by the artistic70 perfection of the lady's appearance. Her gait, too, had a flexuousness about it, which seemed to avoid angularity. It was a revelation to Elizabeth that human beings could reach this stage of external development--she had never suspected it. She felt all the freshness and grace to be stolen from herself on the instant by the neighbourhood of such a stranger. And this was in face of the fact that Elizabeth could now have been writ14 handsome, while the young lady was simply pretty.
Had she been envious71 she might have hated the woman; but she did not do that--she allowed herself the pleasure of feeling fascinated. She wondered where the lady had come from. The stumpy and practical walk of honest homeliness72 which mostly prevailed there, the two styles of dress thereabout, the simple and the mistaken, equally avouched73 that this figure was no Casterbridge woman's, even if a book in her hand resembling a guide-book had not also suggested it.
The stranger presently moved from the tombstone of Mrs. Henchard, and vanished behind the corner of the wall. Elizabeth went to the tomb herself; beside it were two footprints distinct in the soil, signifying that the lady had stood there a long time. She returned homeward, musing74 on what she had seen, as she might have mused75 on a rainbow or the Northern Lights, a rare butterfly or a cameo.
Interesting as things had been out of doors, at home it turned out to be one of her bad days. Henchard, whose two years' mayoralty was ending, had been made aware that he was not to be chosen to fill a vacancy76 in the list of aldermen; and that Farfrae was likely to become one of the Council. This caused the unfortunate discovery that she had played the waiting-maid in the town of which he was Mayor to rankle77 in his mind yet more poisonously. He had learnt by personal inquiry78 at the time that it was to Donald Farfrae--that treacherous79 upstart--that she had thus humiliated80 herself. And though Mrs. Stannidge seemed to attach no great importance to the incident--the cheerful souls at the Three Mariners having exhausted81 its aspects long ago--such was Henchard's haughty82 spirit that the simple thrifty83 deed was regarded as little less than a social catastrophe84 by him.
Ever since the evening of his wife's arrival with her daughter there had been something in the air which had changed his luck. That dinner at the King's Arms with his friends had been Henchard's Austerlitz: he had had his successes since, but his course had not been upward. He was not to be numbered among the aldermen--that Peerage of burghers--as he had expected to be, and the consciousness of this soured him to-day.
"Well, where have you been?" he said to her with offhand85 laconism86.
"I've been strolling in the Walks and churchyard, father, till I feel quite leery." She clapped her hand to her mouth, but too late.
This was just enough to incense87 Henchard after the other crosses of the day. "I WON'T have you talk like that!" he thundered. "'Leery,' indeed. One would think you worked upon a farm! One day I learn that you lend a hand in publichouses. Then I hear you talk like a clodhopper. I'm burned, if it goes on, this house can't hold us two."
The only way of getting a single pleasant thought to go to sleep upon after this was by recalling the lady she had seen that day, and hoping she might see her again.
Meanwhile Henchard was sitting up, thinking over his jealous folly88 in forbidding Farfrae to pay his addresses to this girl who did not belong to him, when if he had allowed them to go on he might not have been encumbered89 with her. At last he said to himself with satisfaction as he jumped up and went to the writing-table: "Ah! he'll think it means peace, and a marriage portion--not that I don't want my house to be troubled with her, and no portion at all!" He wrote as follows:-
Sir,--On consideration, I don't wish to interfere90 with your courtship of Elizabeth-Jane, if you care for her. I therefore withdraw my objection; excepting in this--that the business be not carried on in my house.-
Yours,
M. HENCHARD Mr. Farfrae.
The morrow, being fairly fine, found Elizabeth-Jane again in the churchyard, but while looking for the lady she was startled by the apparition91 of Farfrae, who passed outside the gate. He glanced up for a moment from a pocket-book in which he appeared to be making figures as he went; whether or not he saw her he took no notice, and disappeared.
Unduly depressed92 by a sense of her own superfluity she thought he probably scorned her; and quite broken in spirit sat down on a bench. She fell into painful thought on her position, which ended with her saying quite loud, "O, I wish I was dead with dear mother!"
Behind the bench was a little promenade93 under the wall where people sometimes walked instead of on the gravel. The bench seemed to be touched by something, she looked round, and a face was bending over her, veiled, but still distinct, the face of the young woman she had seen yesterday.
Elizabeth-Jane looked confounded for a moment, knowing she had been overheard, though there was pleasure in her confusion. "Yes, I heard you," said the lady, in a vivacious94 voice, answering her look. "What can have happened?"
"I don't--I can't tell you," said Elizabeth, putting her hand to her face to hide a quick flush that had come.
There was no movement or word for a few seconds; then the girl felt that the young lady was sitting down beside her.
"I guess how it is with you," said the latter. "That was your mother." She waved her hand towards the tombstone. Elizabeth looked up at her as if inquiring of herself whether there should be confidence. The lady's manner was so desirous, so anxious, that the girl decided95 there should be confidence. "It was my mother," she said, "my only friend."
"But your father, Mr. Henchard. He is living?"
"Yes, he is living," said Elizabeth-Jane.
"Is he not kind to you?"
"I've no wish to complain of him."
"There has been a disagreement?"
"A little."
"Perhaps you were to blame," suggested the stranger.
"I was--in many ways," sighed the meek96 Elizabeth. "I swept up the coals when the servants ought to have done it; and I said I was leery;--and he was angry with me."
The lady seemed to warm towards her for that reply. "Do you know the impression your words give me?" she said ingenuously97. "That he is a hot-tempered man--a little proud--perhaps ambitious; but not a bad man." Her anxiety not to condemn98 Henchard while siding with Elizabeth was curious.
"O no; certainly not BAD," agreed the honest girl. "And he has not even been unkind to me till lately--since mother died. But it has been very much to bear while it has lasted. All is owing to my defects, I daresay; and my defects are owing to my history."
"What is your history?"
Elizabeth-Jane looked wistfully at her questioner. She found that her questioner was looking at her, turned her eyes down; and then seemed compelled to look back again. "My history is not gay or attractive," she said. "And yet I can tell it, if you really want to know."
The lady assured her that she did want to know; whereupon Elizabeth-Jane told the tale of her life as she understood it, which was in general the true one, except that the sale at the fair had no part therein.
Contrary to the girl's expectation her new friend was not shocked. This cheered her; and it was not till she thought of returning to that home in which she had been treated so roughly of late that her spirits fell.
"I don't know how to return," she murmured. "I think of going away. But what can I do? Where can I go?"
"Perhaps it will be better soon," said her friend gently. "So I would not go far. Now what do you think of this: I shall soon want somebody to live in my house, partly as housekeeper99, partly as companion; would you mind coming to me? But perhaps--"
"O yes," cried Elizabeth, with tears in her eyes. "I would, indeed--I would do anything to be independent; for then perhaps my father might get to love me. But, ah!"
"What?"
"I am no accomplished100 person. And a companion to you must be that."
"O, not necessarily."
"Not? But I can't help using rural words sometimes, when I don't mean to."
"Never mind, I shall like to know them."
"And--O, I know I shan't do!"--she cried with a distressful101 laugh. "I accidentally learned to write round hand instead of ladies'-hand. And, of course, you want some one who can write that?"
"Well, no."
"What, not necessary to write ladies'-hand?" cried the joyous102 Elizabeth.
"Not at all."
"But where do you live?"
"In Casterbridge, or rather I shall be living here after twelve o'clock to-day."
Elizabeth expressed her astonishment103.
"I have been staying at Budmouth for a few days while my house was getting ready. The house I am going into is that one they call High-Place Hall--the old stone one looking down the lane to the market. Two or three rooms are fit for occupation, though not all: I sleep there to-night for the first time. Now will you think over my proposal, and meet me here the first fine day next week, and say if you are still in the same mind?"
Elizabeth, her eyes shining at this prospect104 of a change from an unbearable105 position, joyfully106 assented107; and the two parted at the gate of the churchyard.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
enigmas
|
|
| n.难于理解的问题、人、物、情况等，奥秘( enigma的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
agitation
|
|
| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
constrained
|
|
| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
chiding
|
|
| v.责骂，责备( chide的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
picturesque
|
|
| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
bide
|
|
| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
quaintly
|
|
| adv.古怪离奇地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
omnivorously
|
|
| adv.随手地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
12
gratuitous
|
|
| adj.无偿的，免费的；无缘无故的，不必要的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
ordeal
|
|
| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
writ
|
|
| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
transacted
|
|
| v.办理（业务等）( transact的过去式和过去分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
reigned
|
|
| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
creed
|
|
| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
bristling
|
|
| a.竖立的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
innate
|
|
| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
scribbling
|
|
| n.乱涂[写]胡[乱]写的文章[作品]v.潦草的书写( scribble的现在分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
peremptorily
|
|
| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
pitfall
|
|
| n.隐患，易犯的错误；陷阱，圈套 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
shovel
|
|
| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
persistently
|
|
| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
exclamation
|
|
| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
protruding
|
|
| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
underneath
|
|
| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
softening
|
|
| 变软，软化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
estrange
|
|
| v.使疏远，离间，使离开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
nance
|
|
| n.娘娘腔的男人，男同性恋者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
premises
|
|
| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
hips
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
drudge
|
|
| n.劳碌的人；v.做苦工，操劳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
slur
|
|
| v.含糊地说；诋毁；连唱；n.诋毁；含糊的发音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
complexion
|
|
| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
confinement
|
|
| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
mariners
|
|
| 海员，水手（mariner的复数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
triumphantly
|
|
| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
unduly
|
|
| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
indignity
|
|
| n.侮辱，伤害尊严，轻蔑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
scathing
|
|
| adj.（言词、文章）严厉的，尖刻的；不留情的adv.严厉地，尖刻地v.伤害，损害（尤指使之枯萎）( scathe的现在分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
incessantly
|
|
| ad.不停地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
laboriousness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
48
flinching
|
|
| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
incited
|
|
| 刺激，激励，煽动( incite的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
glide
|
|
| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
portentous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
construed
|
|
| v.解释（陈述、行为等）( construe的过去式和过去分词 )；翻译，作句法分析 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
quenching
|
|
| 淬火，熄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
fortitude
|
|
| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
incipient
|
|
| adj.起初的，发端的，初期的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
amber
|
|
| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
firmamental
|
|
| adj.天空的，苍天的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
exhaustion
|
|
| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
ornamented
|
|
| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
gravel
|
|
| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
engrossed
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
inscription
|
|
| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
wraith
|
|
| n.幽灵；骨瘦如柴的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
whim
|
|
| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
artistic
|
|
| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
envious
|
|
| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
homeliness
|
|
| n.简朴，朴实；相貌平平 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
avouched
|
|
| v.保证，断言，承认( avouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
74
musing
|
|
| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
mused
|
|
| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
vacancy
|
|
| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
rankle
|
|
| v.（怨恨，失望等）难以释怀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
inquiry
|
|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
treacherous
|
|
| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
humiliated
|
|
| 感到羞愧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
thrifty
|
|
| adj.节俭的；兴旺的；健壮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
catastrophe
|
|
| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
offhand
|
|
| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
laconism
|
|
| n.（说话）简洁；简练的格言，精辟的警句 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
87
incense
|
|
| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
encumbered
|
|
| v.妨碍，阻碍，拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
apparition
|
|
| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
depressed
|
|
| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
promenade
|
|
| n./v.散步 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
vivacious
|
|
| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
meek
|
|
| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
ingenuously
|
|
| adv.率直地，正直地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
condemn
|
|
| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
housekeeper
|
|
| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
distressful
|
|
| adj.苦难重重的，不幸的，使苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
joyous
|
|
| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
unbearable
|
|
| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
joyfully
|
|
| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
assented
|
|
| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |