“She’ll occupy herself with this affair, and it’ll be easier for her,” the mother reflected.
“Yes, of course!” responded Nikolay, and turning around to the mother with a kind smile on his face, asked: “And how about you, Nilovna — did this cup of bitterness escape you? Did you never know the pangs1 for a beloved person?”
“Well!” exclaimed the mother with a wave of her hand. “What sort of a pang2? The fear they had whether they won’t marry me off to this man or that man?”
“And you liked no one?”
She thought a little, and answered:
“I don’t recall, my dear! How can it be that I didn’t like anybody? I suppose there was somebody I was fond of, but I don’t remember.”
She looked at him, and concluded simply, with sad composure: “My husband beat me a lot; and everything that was before him was effaced3 from my soul.”
Nikolay turned back to the table; the mother walked out of the room for a minute. On her return Nikolay looked at her kindly4 and began to speak softly and lovingly. His reminiscences stroked her like a caress5.
“And I, you see, was like Sashenka. I loved a girl: a marvelous being, a wonder, a — guiding star; she was gentle and bright for me. I met her about twenty years ago, and from that time on I loved her. And I love her now, too, to speak the truth. I love her all so — with my whole soul — gratefully — forever!”
Standing6 by his side the mother saw his eyes lighted from within by a clear, warm light. His hands folded over the back of the chair, and his head leaning on them, he looked into the distance; his whole body, lean and slender, but powerful, seemed to strive upward, like the stalk of a plant toward the sun.
“Why didn’t you marry? You should have!”
“Oh, she’s been married five years!”
“And before that — what was the matter? Didn’t she love you?”
He thought a while, and answered:
“Yes, apparently8 she loved me; I’m certain she did. But, you see, it was always this way: I was in prison, she was free; I was free, she was in prison or in exile. That’s very much like Sasha’s position, really. Finally they exiled her to Siberia for ten years. I wanted to follow her, but I was ashamed and she was ashamed, and I remained here. Then she met another man — a comrade of mine, a very good fellow, and they escaped together. Now they live abroad. Yes ——”
Nikolay took off his glasses, wiped them, held them up to the light and began to wipe them again.
“Ah, you, my dear!” the mother exclaimed lovingly, shaking her head. She was sorry for him; at the same time something compelled her to smile a warm, motherly smile. He changed his pose, took the pen in his hand, and said, punctuating9 the rhythm of his speed with waves of his hand:
“Family life always diminishes the energy of a revolutionist. Children must be maintained in security, and there’s the need to work a great deal for one’s bread. The revolutionist ought without cease to develop every iota10 of his energy; he must deepen and broaden it; but this demands time. He must always be at the head, because we — the workingmen — are called by the logic11 of history to destroy the old world, to create the new life; and if we stop, if we yield to exhaustion12, or are attracted by the possibility of a little immediate13 conquest, it’s bad — it’s almost treachery to the cause. No revolutionist can adhere closely to an individual — walk through life side by side with another individual — without distorting his faith; and we must never forget that our aim is not little conquests, but only complete victory!”
His voice became firm, his face paled, and his eyes kindled14 with the force that characterized him. The bell sounded again. It was Liudmila. She wore an overcoat too light for the season, her cheeks were purple with the cold. Removing her torn overshoes, she said in a vexed15 voice:
“The date of the trial is appointed — in a week!”
“Really?” shouted Nikolay from the room.
The mother quickly walked up to him, not understanding whether fright or joy agitated17 her. Liudmila, keeping step with her, said, with irony18 in her low voice:
“Yes, really! The assistant prosecuting19 attorney, Shostak, just now brought the incriminating acts. In the court they say, quite openly, that the sentence has already been fixed20. What does it mean? Do the authorities fear that the judges will deal too mercifully with the enemies of the government? Having so long and so assiduously kept corrupting22 their servants, is the government still unassured of their readiness to be scoundrels?”
Liudmila sat on the sofa, rubbing her lean cheeks with her palms; her dull eyes burned contemptuous scorn, and her voice filled with growing wrath23.
“You waste your powder for nothing, Liudmila!” Nikolay tried to soothe24 her. “They don’t hear you.”
“Some day I’ll compel them to hear me!”
The black circles under her eyes trembled and threw an ominous25 shadow on her face. She bit her lips.
“You go against me — that’s your right; I’m your enemy. But in defending your power don’t corrupt21 people; don’t compel me to have instinctive26 contempt for them; don’t dare to poison my soul with your cynicism!”
Nikolay looked at her through his glasses, and screwing up his eyes, shook his head sadly. But she continued to speak as if those whom she detested27 stood before her. The mother listened with strained attention, understanding nothing, and instinctively28 repeating to herself one and the same words, “The trial — the trial will come off in a week!”
She could not picture to herself what it would be like; how the judges would behave toward Pavel. Her thoughts muddled29 her brain, covered her eyes with a gray mist, and plunged30 her into something sticky, viscid, chilling and paining her body. The feeling grew, entered her blood, took possession of her heart, and weighed it down heavily, poisoning in it all that was alive and bold.
Thus, in a cloud of perplexity and despondency under the load of painful expectations, she lived through one day, and a second day; but on the third day Sasha appeared and said to Nikolay:
“Everything is ready — to-day, in an hour!”
“Everything ready? So soon?” He was astonished.
“Why shouldn’t everything be ready? The only thing I had to do was to get a hiding place and clothes for Rybin. All the rest Godun took on himself. Rybin will have to go through only one ward7 of the city. Vyesovshchikov will meet him on the street, all disguised, of course. He’ll throw an overcoat over him, give him a hat, and show him the way. I’ll wait for him, change his clothes and lead him off.”
“Not bad! And who’s this Godun?”
“You’ve seen him! You gave talks to the locksmiths in his place.”
“Oh, I remember! A droll31 old man.”
“He’s a soldier who served his time — a roofer, a man of little education, but with an inexhaustible fund of hatred32 for every kind of violence and for all men of violence. A bit of a philosopher!”
The mother listened in silence to her, and something indistinct slowly dawned upon her.
“Godun wants to free his nephew — you remember him? You liked Yevchenko, a blacksmith, quite a dude.” Nikolay nodded his head. “Godun has arranged everything all right. But I’m beginning to doubt his success. The passages in the prison are used by all the inmates33, and I think when the prisoners see the ladder many will want to run —” She closed her eyes and was silent for a while. The mother moved nearer to her. “They’ll hinder one another.”
They all three stood before the window, the mother behind Nikolay and Sasha. Their rapid conversation roused in her a still stronger sense of uneasiness and anxiety.
“I’m going there,” the mother said suddenly.
“Why?” asked Sasha.
“Don’t go, darling! Maybe you’ll get caught. You mustn’t!” Nikolay advised.
The mother looked at them and softly, but persistently34, repeated: “No; I’m going! I’m going!”
They quickly exchanged glances, and Sasha, shrugging her shoulders, said:
“Of course — hope is tenacious35!”
Turning to the mother she took her by the hand, leaned her head on her shoulder, and said in a new, simple voice, near to the heart of the mother:
“But I’ll tell you after all, mamma, you’re waiting in vain — he won’t try to escape!”
“My dear darling!” exclaimed the mother, pressing Sasha to her tremulously. “Take me; I won’t interfere36 with you; I don’t believe it is possible — to escape!”
“She’ll go,” said the girl simply to Nikolay.
“That’s your affair!” he answered, bowing his head.
“We mustn’t be together, mamma. You go to the garden in the lot. From there you can see the wall of the prison. But suppose they ask you what you are doing there?”
Rejoiced, the mother answered confidently:
“I’ll think of what to say.”
“Don’t forget that the overseers of the prison know you,” said Sasha; “and if they see you there ——”
“They won’t see me!” the mother laughed softly.
An hour later she was in the lot by the prison. A sharp wind blew about her, pulled her dress, and beat against the frozen earth, rocked the old fence of the garden past which the woman walked, and rattled37 against the low wall of the prison; it flung up somebody’s shouts from the court, scattered38 them in the air, and carried them up to the sky. There the clouds were racing39 quickly, little rifts40 opening in the blue height.
Behind the mother lay the city; in front the cemetery41; to the right, about seventy feet from her, the prison. Near the cemetery a soldier was leading a horse by a rein42, and another soldier tramped noisily alongside him, shouted, whistled, and laughed. There was no one else near the prison. On the impulse of the moment the mother walked straight up to them. As she came near she shouted:
“Soldiers! didn’t you see a goat anywhere around here?”
One of them answered:
“No.”
She walked slowly past them, toward the fence of the cemetery, looking slantwise to the right and the back. Suddenly she felt her feet tremble and grow heavy, as if frozen to the ground. From the corner of the prison a man came along, walking quickly, like a lamplighter. He was a stooping man, with a little ladder on his shoulder. The mother, blinking in fright, quickly glanced at the soldiers; they were stamping their feet on one spot, and the horse was running around them. She looked at the ladder — he had already placed it against the wall and was climbing up without haste. He waved his hand in the courtyard, quickly let himself down, and disappeared around the corner. That very second the black head of Mikhail appeared on the wall, followed by his entire body. Another head, with a shaggy hat, emerged alongside of his. Two black lumps rolled to the ground; one disappeared around the corner; Mikhail straightened himself up and looked about.
“Run, run!” whispered the mother, treading impatiently. Her ears were humming. Loud shouts were wafted44 to her. There on the wall appeared a third head. She clasped her hands in faintness. A light-haired head, without a beard, shook as if it wanted to tear itself away, but it suddenly disappeared behind the wall. The shouts came louder and louder, more and more boisterous46. The wind scattered the thin trills of the whistles through the air. Mikhail walked along the wall — there! he was already beyond it, and traversed the open space between the prison and the houses of the city. It seemed to her as if he were walking very, very slowly, that he raised his head to no purpose. “Everyone who sees his face will remember it forever,” and she whispered, “Faster! faster!” Behind the wall of the prison something slammed, the thin sound of broken glass was heard. One of the soldiers, planting his feet firmly on the ground, drew the horse to him, and the horse jumped. The other one, his fist at his mouth, shouted something in the direction of the prison, and as he shouted he turned his head sidewise, with his ear cocked.
All attention, the mother turned her head in all directions, her eyes seeing everything, believing nothing. This thing which she had pictured as terrible and intricate was accomplished47 with extreme simplicity48 and rapidity, and the simpleness of the happenings stupefied her. Rybin was no longer to be seen — a tall man in a thin overcoat was walking there — a girl was running along. Three wardens49 jumped out from a corner of the prison; they ran side by side, stretching out their right hands. One of the soldiers rushed in front of them; the other ran around the horse, unsuccessfully trying to vault50 on the refractory51 animal, which kept jumping about. The whistles incessantly52 cut the air, their alarming, desperate shrieks53 aroused a consciousness of danger in the woman. Trembling, she walked along the fence of the cemetery, following the wardens; but they and the soldiers ran around the other corner of the prison and disappeared. They were followed at a run by the assistant overseer of the prison, whom she knew; his coat was unbuttoned. From somewhere policemen appeared, and people came running.
The wind whistled, leaped about as if rejoicing, and carried the broken, confused shouts to the mother’s ears.
“It stands here all the time.”
“The ladder?”
“What’s the matter with you then? The devil take you!”
“Arrest the soldiers!”
“Policeman!”
Whistles again. This hubbub54 delighted her and she strode on more boldly, thinking, “So, it’s possible — HE could have done it!”
But now pain for her son no longer entered her heart without pride in him also. And only fear for him weighed and oppressed her to stupefaction as before.
From the corner of the fence opposite her a constable55 with a black, curly beard, and two policemen emerged.
“Stop!” shouted the constable, breathing heavily. “Did you see — a man — with a beard — didn’t he run by here?”
She pointed16 to the garden and answered calmly:
“He went that way!”
“Yegorov, run! Whistle! Is it long ago?”
“Yes — I should say — about a minute!”
But the whistle drowned her voice. The constable, without waiting for an answer, precipitated56 himself in a gallop57 along the hillocky ground, waving his hands in the direction of the garden. After him, with bent58 head, and whistling, the policemen darted59 off.
The mother nodded her head after them, and, satisfied with herself, went home. When she walked out of the field into the street a cab crossed her way. Raising her head she saw in the vehicle a young man with light mustache and a pale, worn face. He, too, regarded her. He sat slantwise. It must have been due to his position that his right shoulder was higher than his left.
At home Nikolay met her joyously60.
“Alive? How did it go?”
“It seems everything’s been successful!”
And slowly trying to reinstate all the details in her memory, she began to tell of the escape. Nikolay, too, was amazed at the success.
“You see, we’re lucky!” said Nikolay, rubbing his hands. “But how frightened I was on your account only God knows. You know what, Nilovna, take my friendly advice: don’t be afraid of the trial. The sooner it’s over and done with the sooner Pavel will be free. Believe me. I’ve already written to my sister to try to think what can be done for Pavel. Maybe he’ll even escape on the road. And the trial is approximately like this.” He began to describe to her the session of the court. She listened, and understood that he was afraid of something — that he wanted to inspirit her.
“Maybe you think I’ll say something to the judges?” she suddenly inquired. “That I’ll beg them for something?”
He jumped up, waved his hands at her, and said in an offended tone:
“What are you talking about? You’re insulting me!”
“Excuse me, please; excuse me! I really AM afraid — of what I don’t know.”
She was silent, letting her eyes wander about the room.
“Sometimes it seems to me that they’ll insult Pasha — scoff61 at him. ‘Ah, you peasant!’ they’ll say. ‘You son of a peasant! What’s this mess you’ve cooked up?’ And Pasha, proud as he is, he’ll answer them so ——! Or Andrey will laugh at them — and all the comrades there are hot-headed and honest. So I can’t help thinking that something will suddenly happen. One of them will lose his patience, the others will support him, and the sentence will be so severe — you’ll never see them again.”
Nikolay was silent, pulling his beard glumly62 as the mother continued:
“It’s impossible to drive this thought from my head. The trial is terrible to me. When they’ll begin to take everything apart and weigh it — it’s awful! It’s not the sentence that’s terrible, but the trial — I can’t express it.” She felt that Nikolay didn’t understand her fear; and his inability to comprehend kept her from further analysis of her timidities, which, however, only increased and broadened during the three following days. Finally, on the day of the trial, she carried into the hall of the session a heavy dark load that bent her back and neck.
In the street, acquaintances from the suburbs had greeted her. She had bowed in silence, rapidly making her way through the dense63, crowd in the corridor of the courthouse. In the hall she was met by relatives of the defendants64, who also spoke65 to her in undertones. All the words seemed needless; she didn’t understand them. Yet all the people were sullen66, filled with the same mournful feeling which infected the mother and weighed her down.
“Let’s sit next to each other,” suggested Sizov, going to a bench.
She sat down obediently, settled her dress, and looked around. Green and crimson67 specks68, with thin yellow threads between, slowly swam before her eyes.
“Your son has ruined our Vasya,” a woman sitting beside her said quietly.
“You keep still, Natalya!” Sizov chided her angrily.
Nilovna looked at the woman; it was the mother of Samoylov. Farther along sat her husband — bald-headed, bony-faced, dapper, with a large, bushy, reddish beard which trembled as he sat looking in front of himself, his eyes screwed up.
A dull, immobile light entered through the high windows of the hall, outside of which snow glided69 and fell lingeringly on the ground. Between the windows hung a large portrait of the Czar in a massive frame of glaring gilt70. Straight, austere71 folds of the heavy crimson window drapery dropped over either side of it. Before the portrait, across almost the entire breadth of the hall, stretched the table covered with green cloth. To the right of the wall, behind the grill72, stood two wooden benches; to the left two rows of crimson armchairs. Attendants with green collars and yellow buttons on their abdomens73 ran noiselessly about the hall. A soft whisper hummed in the turbid74 atmosphere, and the odor was a composite of many odors as in a drug shop. All this — the colors, the glitter, the sounds and odors — pressed on the eyes and invaded the breast with each inhalation. It forced out live sensations, and filled the desolate75 heart with motionless, dismal76 awe77.
Suddenly one of the people said something aloud. The mother trembled. All arose; she, too, rose, seizing Sizov’s hand.
In the left corner of the hall a high door opened and an old man emerged, swinging to and fro. On his gray little face shook white, sparse78 whiskers; he wore eyeglasses; the upper lip, which was shaven, sank into his mouth as by suction; his sharp jawbones and his chin were supported by the high collar of his uniform; apparently there was no neck under the collar. He was supported under the arm from behind by a tall young man with a porcelain79 face, red and round. Following him three more men in uniforms embroidered80 in gold, and three garbed81 in civilian82 wear, moved in slowly. They stirred about the table for a long time and finally took seats in the armchairs. When they had sat down, one of them in unbuttoned uniform, with a sleepy, clean-shaven face, began to say something to the little old man, moving his puffy lips heavily and soundlessly. The old man listened, sitting strangely erect83 and immobile. Behind the glasses of his pince-nez the mother saw two little colorless specks.
At the end of the table, at the desk, stood a tall, bald man, who coughed and shoved papers about.
The little old man swung forward and began to speak. He pronounced clearly the first words, but what followed seemed to creep without sound from his thin, gray lips.
“I open ——”
“See!” whispered Sizov, nudging the mother softly and arising.
In the wall behind the grill the door opened, a soldier came out with a bared saber on his shoulder; behind him appeared Pavel, Andrey, Fedya Mazin, the two Gusevs, Samoylov, Bukin, Somov, and five more young men whose names were unknown to the mother. Pavel smiled kindly; Andrey also, showing his teeth as he nodded to her. The hall, as it were, became lighter43 and simpler from their smile; the strained, unnatural84 silence was enlivened by their faces and movements. The greasy85 glitter of gold on the uniforms dimmed and softened86. A waft45 of bold assurance, the breath of living power, reached the mother’s heart and roused it. On the benches behind her, where up to that time the people had been waiting in crushed silence, a responsive, subdued87 hum was audible.
“They’re not trembling!” she heard Sizov whisper; and at her right side Samoylov’s mother burst into soft sobs88.
“Silence!” came a stern shout.
“I warn you beforehand,” said the old man, “I shall have to ——”
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收听单词发音
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1
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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3
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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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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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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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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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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8
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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punctuating
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| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的现在分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
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iota
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| n.些微，一点儿 | |
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logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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prosecuting
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| 检举、告发某人( prosecute的现在分词 )； 对某人提起公诉； 继续从事（某事物）； 担任控方律师 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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corrupt
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| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
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corrupting
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| （使）败坏( corrupt的现在分词 )； （使）腐化； 引起（计算机文件等的）错误； 破坏 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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inmates
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| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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tenacious
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| adj.顽强的，固执的，记忆力强的，粘的 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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38
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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rifts
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| n.裂缝( rift的名词复数 )；裂隙；分裂；不和 | |
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41
cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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waft
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| v.飘浮，飘荡；n.一股；一阵微风；飘荡 | |
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boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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wardens
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| n.看守人( warden的名词复数 )；管理员；监察员；监察官 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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refractory
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| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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precipitated
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| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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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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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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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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scoff
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| n.嘲笑，笑柄，愚弄；v.嘲笑，嘲弄，愚弄，狼吞虎咽 | |
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glumly
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| adv.忧郁地，闷闷不乐地；阴郁地 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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defendants
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| 被告( defendant的名词复数 ) | |
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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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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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specks
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| n.眼镜；斑点，微粒，污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
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glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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grill
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| n.烤架，铁格子，烤肉；v.烧，烤，严加盘问 | |
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abdomens
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| n.腹（部）( abdomen的名词复数 ) | |
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turbid
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| adj.混浊的，泥水的，浓的 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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garbed
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| v.（尤指某类人穿的特定）服装，衣服，制服( garb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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84
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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85
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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86
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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