The burial-ground by which he had paused was as little restful to the eye as are most of those discoverable in the byways of London. The small trees that grew about it shivered in their leaflessness; the rank grass was wan13 under the failing day; most of the stones leaned this way or that, emblems14 of neglect (they were very white at the top, and darkened downwards15 till the damp soil made them black), and certain cats and dogs were prowling or sporting among the graves. At this corner the east wind blew with malice16 such as it never puts forth17 save where there are poorly clad people to be pierced; it swept before it thin clouds of unsavoury dust, mingled18 with the light refuse of the streets. Above the shapeless houses night was signalling a murky19 approach; the sky — if sky it could be called — gave threatening of sleet20, perchance of snow. And on every side was the rumble21 of traffic, the voiceful evidence of toil22 and of poverty; hawkers were crying their goods; the inevitable23 organ was clanging before a public-house hard by; the crumpet-man was hastening along, with monotonous24 ringing of his bell and hoarse25 rhythmic26 wail27.
The old man had fixed28 his eyes half absently on the inscription29 of a gravestone near him; a lean cat springing out between the iron railings seemed to recall his attention, and with a slight sigh he went forward along the narrow street which is called St. James’s Walk. In a few minutes he had reached the end of it, and found himself facing a high grey-brick wall, wherein, at this point, was an arched gateway30 closed with black doors. He looked at the gateway, then fixed his gaze on something that stood just above — something which the dusk half concealed31, and by so doing made more impressive. It was the sculptured counterfeit32 of a human face, that of a man distraught with agony. The eyes stared wildly from their sockets33, the hair struggled in maniac34 disorder35, the forehead was wrung36 with torture, the cheeks sunken, the throat fearsomely wasted, and from the wide lips there seemed to be issuing a horrible cry. Above this hideous37 effigy38 was carved the legend: ‘MIDDLESEX HOUSE OF DETENTION39.’
Something more than pain came to the old man’s face as he looked and pondered; his lips trembled like those of one in anger, and his eyes had a stern resentful gleaming. He walked on a few paces, then suddenly stopped where a woman was standing at an open door.
‘I ask your pardon,’ he said, addressing her with the courtesy which owes nothing to refined intercourse41, ‘but do you by chance know anyone of the name of Snowdon hereabouts?’
The woman replied with a brief negative; she smiled at the appearance of the questioner, and, with the vulgar instinct, looked about for someone to share her amusement.
‘Better inquire at the ’ouse at the corner,’ she added, as the man was moving away. ‘They’ve been here a long time, I b’lieve.’
He accepted her advice. But the people at the public-house could not aid his search. He thanked them, paused for a moment with his eyes down, then again sighed slightly and went forth into the gathering42 gloom.
Less than five minutes later there ran into the same house of refreshment43 a little slight girl, perhaps thirteen years old; she carried a jug44, and at the bar asked for ‘a pint45 of old six.’ The barman, whilst drawing the ale, called out to a man who had entered immediately after the child:
‘Don’t know nobody called Snowdon about ’ere, do you, Mr. Squibbs?’
The individual addressed was very dirty, very sleepy, and seemingly at odds46 with mankind. He replied contemptuously with a word which, in phonetic47 rendering48 may perhaps be spelt ‘Nay-oo.’
But the little girl was looking eagerly from one man to the other; what had been said appeared to excite keen interest in her. She forgot all about the beer-jug that was waiting, and, after a brief but obvious struggle with timidity, said in an uncertain voice:
‘Has somebody been asking for that name, sir?’
‘Yes, they have,’ the barman answered, in surprise. ‘Why?’
My name’s Snowdon, sir — Jane Snowdon.’
She reddened over all her face as soon as she had given utterance49 to the impulsive50 words. The barman was regarding her with a sort of semi-interest, and Mr. Squibbs also had fixed his bleary (or beery) eyes upon her. Neither would have admitted an active interest in so pale and thin and wretchedly-clad a little mortal. Her hair hung loose, and had no covering; it was hair of no particular colour, and seemed to have been for a long time utterly51 untended; the wind, on her run hither, had tossed it into much disorder. Signs there were of some kind of clothing beneath the short, dirty, worn dress, but it was evidently of the scantiest52 description. The freely exposed neck was very thin, but, like the outline of her face, spoke53 less of a feeble habit of body than of the present pinch of sheer hunger. She did not, indeed, look like one of those children who are born in disease and starvation, and put to nurse upon the pavement; her limbs were shapely enough, her back was straight, she had features that were not merely human, but girl-like, and her look had in it the light of an intelligence generally sought for in vain among the children of the street. The blush and the way in which she hung her head were likewise tokens of a nature endowed with ample sensitiveness.
‘Oh, your name’s Jane Snowdon, is it?’ said the barman. ‘Well, you’re just three minutes an’ three-quarters too late. P’r’aps it’s a fortune a-runnin’ after you. He was a rum old party as inquired. Never mind; it’s all in a life. There’s fortunes lost every week by a good deal less than three minutes when it’s ‘orses — eh, Mr. Squibbs?’
Mr. Squibbs swore with emphasis.
The little girl took her jug of beer and was turning away.
‘Hollo!’ cried the barman. ‘Where’s the money, Jane? — if you don’t mind.’
She turned again in increased confusion, and laid coppers54 on the counter. Thereupon the man asked her where she lived; she named a house in Clerkenwell Close, near at hand.
‘Father live there?’
She shook her head.
‘Mother?’
‘I haven’t got one, sir.’
‘Who is it as you live with, then?’
‘Mrs. Peckover, sir.’
‘Well, as I was sayin’, he was a queer old joker as arsted for the name of Snowdon. Shouldn’t wonder if you see him goin’ round.’
And he added a pretty full description of this old man, to which the girl listened closely. Then she went thoughtfully — a little sadly — on her way.
In the street, all but dark by this time, she cast anxious glances onwards and behind, but no old man in an odd hat and cloak and with white hair was discoverable. Linger she might not. She reached a house of which the front-door stood open; it looked black and cavernous within; but she advanced with the step of familiarity, and went downstairs to a front-kitchen. Through the half-open door came a strong odour and a hissing56 sound, plainly due to the frying of sausages. Before Jane could enter she was greeted sharply in a voice which was young and that of a female, but had no other quality of graciousness.
‘You’ve taken your time, my lady! All right! just wait till I’ve ‘ad my tea, that’s all! Me an’ you’ll settle accounts to-night, see if we don’t. Mother told me as she owed you a lickin’, and I’ll pay it off, with a little on my own account too. Only wait till I’ve ‘ad my tea, that’s all. What are you standin’ there for, like a fool? Bring that beer ’ere, an’ let’s see ‘ow much you’ve drank.’
‘I haven’t put my lips near it, miss; indeed I haven’t,’ pleaded the child, whose face of dread57 proved both natural timidity and the constant apprehension58 of ill-usage.
‘Little liar55! that’s what you always was, an’ always will be. — Take that!’
The speaker was a girl of sixteen, tall, rather bony, rudely handsome; the hand with which she struck was large and coarse-fibred, the muscles that impelled59 it vigorous. Her dress was that of a work-girl, unsubstantial, ill-fitting, but of ambitious cut; her hair was very abundant, and rose upon the back of her head in thick coils, an elegant fringe depending in front. The fire had made her face scarlet60, and in the lamplight her large eyes glistened61 with many joys.
First and foremost, Miss Clementina Peckover rejoiced because she had left work much earlier than usual, and was about to enjoy what she would have described as a ‘blow out.’ Secondly62, she rejoiced because her mother, the landlady63 of the house, was absent for the night, and consequently she would exercise sole authority over the domestic slave, Jane Snowdon — that is to say, would indulge to the uttermost her instincts of cruelty in tormenting64 a defenceless creature. Finally — a cause of happiness antecedent to the others, but less vivid in her mind at this moment — in the next room lay awaiting burial the corpse65 of Mrs. Peckover’s mother-inlaw, whose death six days ago had plunged66 mother and daughter into profound delight, partly because they were relieved at length from making a pretence67 of humanity to a bed-ridden old woman, partly owing to the fact that the deceased had left behind her a sum of seventy-five pounds, exclusive of moneys due from a burial-club.
‘Ah!’ exclaimed Miss Peckover (who was affectionately known to her intimates as ‘Clem’), as she watched Jane stagger back from the blow, and hide her face in silent endurance of pain. ‘That’s just a morsel68 to stay your appetite, my lady! You didn’t expect me back ‘ome at this time, did you? You thought as you was goin’ to have the kitchen to yourself when mother went. Ha ha! ho ho! — These sausages is done; now you clean that fryin’-pan; and if I can find a speck69 of dirt in it as big as ‘arlf a farden, I’ll take you by the ‘air of the ‘ed an’ clean it with your face, that’s what I’ll do I Understand? Oh, I mean what I say, my lady! Me an’ you’s a-goin’ to spend a evenin’ together, there’s no two ways about that. Ho ho! he he!’
The frankness of Clem’s brutality70 went far towards redeeming71 her character. The exquisite72 satisfaction with which she viewed Jane’s present misery73, the broad joviality74 with which she gloated over the prospect75 of cruelties shortly to be inflicted76, put her at once on a par40 with the noble savage77 running wild in woods. Civilisation78 could bring no charge against this young woman; it and she had no common criterion. Who knows but this lust79 of hers for sanguinary domination was the natural enough issue of the brutalising serfdom of her predecessors80 in the family line of the Peckovers? A thrall81 suddenly endowed with authority will assuredly make bitter work for the luckless creature in the next degree of thraldom82.
A cloth was already spread across one end of the deal table, with such other preparations for a meal as Clem deemed adequate. The sausages — five in number — she had emptied from the frying-pan directly on to her plate, and with them all the black rich juice that had exuded83 in the process of cooking — particularly rich, owing to its having several times caught fire and blazed triumphantly84. On sitting down and squaring her comely85 frame to work, the first thing Clem did was to take a long draught86 out of the beer-jug; refreshed thus, she poured the remaining liquor into a glass. Ready at hand was mustard, made in a tea-cup; having taken a certain quantity of this condiment87 on to her knife, she proceeded to spread each sausage with it from end to end, patting them in a friendly way as she finished the operation. Next she sprinkled them with pepper, and after that she constructed a little pile of salt on the side of the plate, using her fingers to convey it from the salt-cellar. It remained to cut a thick slice of bread — she held the loaf pressed to her bosom88 whilst doing this — and to crush it down well into the black grease beside the sausages; then Clem was ready to begin.
For five minutes she fed heartily89, showing really remarkable90 skill in conveying pieces of sausage to her mouth by means of the knife alone. Finding it necessary to breathe at last, she looked round at Jane. The hand-maiden was on her knees near the fire, scrubbing very hard at the pan with successive pieces of newspaper. It was a sight to increase the gusto of Clem’s meal, but of a sudden there came into the girl’s mind a yet more delightful91 thought. I have mentioned that in the back-kitchen lay the body of a dead woman; it was already encoffined, and waited for interment on the morrow, when Mrs. Peckover would arrive with a certain female relative from St. Albans. Now the proximity93 of this corpse was a ceaseless occasion of dread and misery to Jane Snowdon; the poor child had each night to make up a bed for herself in this front-room, dragging together a little heap of rags when mother and daughter were gone up to their chamber94, and since the old woman’s death it was much if Jane had enjoyed one hour of unbroken sleep. She endeavoured to hide these feelings, but Clem, with her Bed Indian scent95, divined them accurately96 enough. She hit upon a good idea.
‘Go into the next room,’ she commanded suddenly, ‘and fetch the matches off of the mantel-piece. I shall want to go upstairs presently, to see if you’ve scrubbed the bed-room well.’
Jane was blanched97; but she rose from her knees at once, and reached a candlestick from above the fireplace.
‘What’s that for?’ shouted Clem, with her mouth full. ‘You’ve no need of a light to find the mantel-piece. If you’re not off —’
Jane hastened from the kitchen. Clem yelled to her to close the door, and she had no choice but to obey. In the dark passage outside there was darkness that might be felt. The child all but fainted with the sickness of horror as she turned the handle of the other door and began to grope her way. She knew exactly where the coffin92 was; she knew that to avoid touching98 it in the diminutive99 room was all but impossible. And touch it she did. Her anguish100 uttered itself, not in a mere12 sound of terror, but in a broken word or two of a prayer she knew by heart, including a name which sounded like a charm against evil. She had reached the mantel-piece; oh, she could not, could not find the matches I Yes, at last her hand closed on them. A blind rush, and she was out again in the passage. She reentered the front-kitchen with limbs that quivered, with the sound of dreadful voices ringing about her, and blankness before her eyes.
Clem laughed heartily, then finished her beer in a long, enjoyable pull. Her appetite was satisfied; the last trace of oleaginous matter had disappeared from her plate, and now she toyed with little pieces of bread lightly dipped into the mustard-pot. These bonnes bouches put her into excellent humour; presently she crossed her arms and leaned back. There was no denying that Clem was handsome; at sixteen she had all her charms in apparent maturity101, and they were of the coarsely magnificent order. Her forehead was low and of great width; her nose was well shapen, and had large sensual apertures102; her cruel lips may be seen on certain fine antique busts103; the neck that supported her heavy head was splendidly rounded. In laughing, she became a model for an artist, an embodiment of fierce life independent of morality. Her health was probably less sound than it seemed to be; one would have compared her, not to some piece of exuberant104 normal vegetation, but rather to a rank, evilly-fostered growth. The putrid105 soil of that nether106 world yields other forms besides the obviously blighted107 and sapless.
‘Have you done any work for Mrs. Hewett today?’ she asked of her victim, after sufficiently108 savouring the spectacle of terror.
‘Yes, miss; I did the front-room fireplace, an’ fetched fourteen of coals, an’ washed out a few things.’
‘What did she give you?’
‘A penny, miss. I gave it to Mrs. Peckover before she went.’
‘Oh, you did? Well, look ’ere; you’ll just remember in future that all you get from the lodgers109 belongs to me, an’ not to mother. It’s a new arrangement, understand. An’ if you dare to give up a ‘apenny to mother, I’ll lick you till you’re nothin’ but a bag o’ bones. Understand?’
Having on the spur of the moment devised this ingenious difficulty for the child, who was sure to suffer in many ways from such a conflict of authorities, Clem began to consider how she should spend her evening. After all, Jane was too poor-spirited a victim to afford long entertainment. Clem would have liked dealing110 with some one who showed fight — some one with whom she could try savage issue in real tooth-and-claw conflict. She had in mind a really exquisite piece of cruelty, but it was a joy necessarily postponed111 to a late hour of the night. In the meantime, it would perhaps be as well to take a stroll, with a view of meeting a few friends as they came away from the work-rooms. She was pondering the invention of some long and hard task to be executed by Jane in her absence, when a knocking at the house-door made itself heard. Clem at once went up to see who the visitor was.
A woman in a long cloak and a showy bonnet112 stood on the step, protecting herself with an umbrella from the bitter sleet which the wind was now driving through the darkness. She said that she wished to see Mrs. Hewett.
‘Second-floor front,’ replied Clem in the offhand113, impertinent tone wherewith she always signified to strangers her position in the house.
The visitor regarded her with a look of lofty contempt, and, having deliberately114 closed her umbrella, advanced towards the stairs. Clem drew into the back regions for a few moments, but as soon as she heard the closing of a door in the upper part of the house, she too ascended115, going on tip-toe, with a noiselessness which indicated another side of her character. Having reached the room which the visitor had entered, she brought her ear close to the keyhole, and remained in that attitude for a long time — nearly twenty minutes, in fact. Her sudden and swift return to the foot of the stairs was followed by the descent of the woman in the showy bonnet.
‘Miss Peckover I’ cried the latter when she had reached the foot of the stairs.
‘Well, what is it?’ asked Clem, seeming to come up from the kitchen.
‘Will you ‘ave the goodness to go an’ speak to Mrs. Hewett for a hinstant?’ said the woman, with much affectation of refined speech.
‘All right! I will just now, if I’ve time.’
The visitor tossed her head and departed, whereupon Clem at once ran upstairs. In five minutes she was back in the kitchen.
‘See ’ere,’ she addressed Jane. ‘You know where Mr. Kirkwood works in St. John’s Square? You’ve been before now. Well, you’re to go an’ wait at the door till he comes out, and then you’re to tell him to come to Mrs. Hewett at wunst. Understand? — Why ain’t these tea-things all cleared away? All right Wait till you come back, that’s all. Now be off, before I skin you alive!’
On the floor in a corner of the kitchen lay something that had once been a girl’s hat. This Jane at once snatched up and put on her head. Without other covering, She ran forth upon her errand.
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收听单词发音
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1
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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bespeaks
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| v.预定( bespeak的第三人称单数 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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6
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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7
buffeted
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| 反复敲打( buffet的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续猛击； 打来打去； 推来搡去 | |
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8
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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9
marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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10
ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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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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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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emblems
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| n.象征，标记( emblem的名词复数 ) | |
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15
downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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16
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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17
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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18
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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19
murky
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| adj.黑暗的，朦胧的；adv.阴暗地，混浊地；n.阴暗；昏暗 | |
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20
sleet
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| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
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21
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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23
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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24
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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27
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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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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29
inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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30
gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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31
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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32
counterfeit
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| vt.伪造，仿造；adj.伪造的，假冒的 | |
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33
sockets
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| n.套接字，使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 )；孔( socket的名词复数 )；（电器上的）插口；托座；凹穴 | |
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34
maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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36
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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37
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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effigy
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| n.肖像 | |
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39
detention
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| n.滞留，停留；拘留，扣留；(教育)留下 | |
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40
par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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41
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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42
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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43
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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44
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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45
pint
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| n.品脱 | |
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46
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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47
phonetic
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| adj.语言的，语言上的，表示语音的 | |
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48
rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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49
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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50
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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51
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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52
scantiest
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| adj.（大小或数量）不足的，勉强够的( scanty的最高级 ) | |
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53
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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54
coppers
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| 铜( copper的名词复数 )； 铜币 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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tormenting
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| 使痛苦的，使苦恼的 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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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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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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redeeming
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| 补偿的，弥补的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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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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joviality
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| n.快活 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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predecessors
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| n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 )；前辈；（被取代的）原有事物；前身 | |
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thrall
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| n.奴隶；奴隶制 | |
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thraldom
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| n.奴隶的身份，奴役，束缚 | |
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exuded
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| v.缓慢流出，渗出，分泌出( exude的过去式和过去分词 )；流露出对（某物）的神态或感情 | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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condiment
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| n.调味品 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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blanched
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| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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maturity
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| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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apertures
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| n.孔( aperture的名词复数 )；隙缝；（照相机的）光圈；孔径 | |
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busts
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| 半身雕塑像( bust的名词复数 )； 妇女的胸部； 胸围； 突击搜捕 | |
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exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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putrid
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| adj.腐臭的；有毒的；已腐烂的；卑劣的 | |
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nether
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| adj.下部的，下面的；n.阴间；下层社会 | |
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blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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108
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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109
lodgers
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| n.房客，租住者( lodger的名词复数 ) | |
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110
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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111
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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112
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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113
offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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114
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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115
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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