In a closed room of one of the riverside houses at Chandernagore, a husband and his wife were seated on a bed spread on the floor, intently discussing. An earthen lamp burned beside them.
The husband, Sharat, was saying: "I wish you would stay on a few days more; you would then be able to return home quite strong again."
The wife, Kiran, was saying: "I have quite recovered already. It will not, cannot possibly, do me any harm to go home now."
Every married person will at once understand that the conversation was not quite so brief as I have [Pg 130] reported it. The matter was not difficult, but the arguments for and against did not advance it towards a solution. Like a rudderless boat, the discussion kept turning round and round the same point; and at last threatened to be overwhelmed in a flood of tears.
Sharat said: "The doctor thinks you should stop here a few days longer."
Kiran replied: "Your doctor knows everything!"
"Well," said Sharat, "you know that just now all sorts of illnesses are abroad. You would do well to stop here a month or two more."
What had happened was this: Kiran was a universal favourite with her family and neighbours, so that, when she fell seriously ill, they were all anxious. The village wiseacres thought it shameless for her husband to make so much fuss about a mere7 wife and even to suggest a change of air, and asked if Sharat supposed that no woman had ever been ill before, or whether he had found out that the folk of the place to which he meant to take her were immortal8. Did he imagine that the writ9 of Fate did not run there? But Sharat and his mother turned a deaf ear to them, thinking that the little [Pg 131] life of their darling was of greater importance than the united wisdom of a village. People are wont10 to reason thus when danger threatens their loved ones. So Sharat went to Chandernagore, and Kiran recovered, though she was still very weak. There was a pinched look on her face which filled the beholder11 with pity, and made his heart tremble, as he thought how narrowly she had escaped death.
Kiran was fond of society and amusement; the loneliness of her riverside villa6 did not suit her at all. There was nothing to do, there were no interesting neighbours, and she hated to be busy all day with medicine and dieting. There was no fun in measuring doses and making fomentations. Such was the subject discussed in their closed room on this stormy evening.
So long as Kiran deigned12 to argue, there was a chance of a fair fight. When she ceased to reply, and with a toss of her head disconsolately15 looked the other way, the poor man was disarmed16. He was on the point of surrendering unconditionally17 when a servant shouted a message through the shut door.
Sharat got up and on opening the door learnt that a boat had been upset in the storm, and that one of the occupants, a young Brahmin boy, had succeeded in swimming ashore18 at their garden. [Pg 132]
Kiran was at once her own sweet self and set to work to get out some dry clothes for the boy. She then warmed a cup of milk and invited him to her room.
The boy had long curly hair, big expressive19 eyes, and no sign yet of hair on the face. Kiran, after getting him to drink some milk asked him all about himself.
He told her that his name was Nilkanta, and that he belonged to a theatrical20 troupe21. They were coming to play in a neighbouring villa when the boat had suddenly foundered22 in the storm. He had no idea what had become of his companions. He was a good swimmer and had just managed to reach the shore.
The boy stayed with them. His narrow escape from a terrible death made Kiran take a warm interest in him. Sharat thought the boy's appearance at this moment rather a good thing, as his wife would now have something to amuse her, and might be persuaded to stay on for some time longer. Her mother-in-law, too, was pleased at the prospect23 of profiting their Brahmin guest by her kindness. And Nilkanta himself was delighted at his double escape from his master and from the other world, as well as at finding a home in this wealthy family.
But in a short while Sharat and his mother [Pg 133] changed their opinion, and longed for his departure. The boy found a secret pleasure in smoking Sharat's hookahs; he would calmly go off in pouring rain with Sharat's best silk umbrella for a stroll through the village, and make friends with all whom he met. Moreover, he had got hold of a mongrel village dog which he petted so recklessly that it came indoors with muddy paws, and left tokens of its visit on Sharat's spotless bed. Then he gathered about him a devoted24 band of boys of all sorts and sizes, and the result was that not a solitary25 mango in the neighbourhood had a chance of ripening26 that season.
There is no doubt that Kiran had a hand in spoiling the boy. Sharat often warned her about it, but she would not listen to him. She made a dandy of him with Sharat's cast-off clothes, and gave him new ones also. And because she felt drawn27 towards him, and had a curiosity to know more about him, she was constantly calling him to her own room. After her bath and midday meal Kiran would be seated on the bedstead with her betel-leaf box by her side; and while her maid combed and dried her hair, Nilkanta would stand in front and recite pieces out of his repertory with appropriate gesture and song, his elf-locks waving wildly. Thus the long afternoon hours passed merrily away. Kiran would often try to persuade Sharat to sit with her as one [Pg 134] of the audience, but Sharat, who had taken a cordial dislike to the boy, refused; nor could Nilkanta do his part half so well when Sharat was there. His mother would sometimes be lured28 by the hope of hearing sacred names in the recitation; but love of her mid-day sleep speedily overcame devotion, and she lay lapped in dreams.
The boy often got his ears boxed and pulled by Sharat, but as this was nothing to what he had been used to as a member of the troupe, he did not mind it in the least. In his short experience of the world he had come to the conclusion that, as the earth consisted of land and water, so human life was made up of eatings and beatings, and that the beatings largely predominated.
It was hard to tell Nilkanta's age. If it was about fourteen or fifteen, then his face was too old for his years; if seventeen or eighteen, then it was too young. He was either a man too early or a boy too late. The fact was that, joining the theatrical band when very young, he had played the parts of Radhika, Damayanti, and Sita, and a thoughtful Providence29 so arranged things that he grew to the exact stature30 that his manager required, and then growth ceased.
Since every one saw how small Nilkanta was, and [Pg 135] he himself felt small, he did not receive due respect for his years. Causes, natural and artificial, combined to make him sometimes seem immature31 for seventeen years, and at other times a mere lad of fourteen but far too knowing even for seventeen. And as no sign of hair appeared on his face, the confusion became greater. Either because he smoked or because he used language beyond his years, his lips puckered32 into lines that showed him to be old and hard; but innocence33 and youth shone in his large eyes. I fancy that his heart remained young, but the hot glare of publicity34 had been a forcing-house that ripened35 untimely his outward aspect.
In the quiet shelter of Sharat's house and garden at Chandernagore, Nature had leisure to work her way unimpeded. Nilkanta had lingered in a kind of unnatural36 youth, but now he silently and swiftly overpassed that stage. His seventeen or eighteen years came to adequate revelation. No one observed the change, and its first sign was this, that when Kiran treated him like a boy, he felt ashamed. When the gay Kiran one day proposed that he should play the part of lady's companion, the idea of woman's dress hurt him, though he could not say why. So now, when she called for him to act over again his old characters, he disappeared. [Pg 136]
It never occurred to Nilkanta that he was even now not much more than a lad-of-all-work in a strolling company. He even made up his mind to pick up a little education from Sharat's factor. But, because he was the pet of his master's wife, the factor could not endure the sight of him. Also, his restless training made it impossible for him to keep his mind long engaged; sooner or later, the alphabet did a misty37 dance before his eyes. He would sit long enough with an open book on his lap, leaning against a champak bush beside the Ganges. The waves sighed below, boats floated past, birds flitted and twittered restlessly above. What thoughts passed through his mind as he looked down on that book he alone knew, if indeed he did know. He never advanced from one word to another, but the glorious thought, that he was actually reading a book, filled his soul with exultation38. Whenever a boat went by, he lifted his book, and pretended to be reading hard, shouting at the top of his voice. But his energy dropped as soon as the audience was gone.
Formerly39 he sang his songs automatically, but now their tunes40 stirred in his mind. Their words were of little import and full of trifling41 alliteration42. Even the feeble meaning they had was beyond his comprehension; yet when he sang [Pg 137]—
Twice-born bird, ah! wherefore stirred
To wrong our royal lady?
Her in forest shady?
then he felt as if transported to another world and to fear other folk. This familiar earth and his own poor life became music, and he was transformed. That tale of the goose and the king's daughter flung upon the mirror of his mind a picture of surpassing beauty. It is impossible to say what he imagined himself to be, but the destitute45 little slave of the theatrical troupe faded from his memory.
When with evening the child of want lies down, dirty and hungry, in his squalid home, and hears of prince and princess and fabled46 gold, then in the dark hovel with its dim flickering47 candle, his mind springs free from its bonds of poverty and misery48 and walks in fresh beauty and glowing raiment, strong beyond all fear of hindrance49, through that fairy realm where all is possible.
Even so, this drudge50 of wandering players fashioned himself and his world anew, as he moved in spirit amid his songs. The lapping water, rustling51 leaves, and calling birds; the goddess who had given shelter to him, the helpless, the God-forsaken; her gracious, lovely face, her exquisite52 arms with their shining bangles, her rosy53 feet as soft as [Pg 138] flower-petals; all these by some magic became one with the music of his song. When the singing ended, the mirage54 faded, and the Nilkanta of the stage appeared again, with his wild elf-locks. Fresh from the complaints of his neighbour, the owner of the despoiled55 mango-orchard, Sharat would come and box his ears and cuff56 him. The boy Nilkanta, the misleader of adoring youths, went forth57 once more, to make ever new mischief58 by land and water and in the branches that are above the earth.
Shortly after the advent59 of Nilkanta, Sharat's younger brother, Satish, came to spend his college vacation with them. Kiran was hugely pleased at finding a fresh occupation. She and Satish were of the same age, and the time passed pleasantly in games and quarrels and reconciliations60 and laughter and even tears. Suddenly she would clasp him over the eyes from behind with vermilion-stained hands, or she would write "monkey" on his back, or else she would bolt the door on him from the outside amidst peals61 of laughter. Satish in his turn did not take things lying down; he would steal her keys and rings; he would put pepper among her betel, he would tie her to the bed when she was not looking.
Meanwhile, heaven only knows what possessed62 [Pg 139] poor Nilkanta. He was suddenly filled with a bitterness which he must avenge63 on somebody or something. He thrashed his devoted boy-followers for no fault, and sent them away crying. He would kick his pet mongrel till it made the skies resound64 with its whinings. When he went out for a walk, he would litter his path with twigs66 and leaves beaten from the roadside shrubs67 with his cane68.
Kiran liked to see people enjoying good fare. Nilkanta had an immense capacity for eating, and never refused a good thing however often it was offered. So Kiran liked to send for him to have his meals in her presence, and ply14 him with delicacies69, happy in the bliss70 of seeing this Brahmin boy eat to satiety71. After Satish's arrival she had much less spare time on her hands, and was seldom present when Nilkanta's meals were served. Before, her absence made no difference to the boy's appetite, and he would not rise till he had drained his cup of milk and rinsed72 it thoroughly73 with water.
But now, if Kiran was not present to ask him to try this and that, he was miserable74, and nothing tasted right. He would get up, without eating much, and say to the serving-maid in a choking voice: "I am not hungry." He thought in imagination that the news of his repeated refusal, "I am not hungry," would reach Kiran; he pictured her concern, [Pg 140] and hoped that she would send for him, and press him to eat. But nothing of the sort happened. Kiran never knew and never sent for him; and the maid finished whatever he left. He would then put out the lamp in his room, and throw himself on his bed in the darkness, burying his head in the pillow in a paroxysm of sobs75. What was his grievance76? Against whom? And from whom did he expect redress77? At last, when no one else came, Mother Sleep soothed78 with her soft caresses79 the wounded heart of the motherless lad.
Nilkanta came to the unshakable conviction that Satish was poisoning Kiran's mind against him. If Kiran was absent-minded, and had not her usual smile, he would jump to the conclusion that some trick of Satish had made her angry with him. He took to praying to the gods, with all the fervour of his hate, to make him at the next rebirth Satish, and Satish him. He had an idea that a Brahmin's wrath80 could never be in vain; and the more he tried to consume Satish with the fire of his curses, the more did his own heart burn within him. And upstairs he would hear Satish laughing and joking with his sister-in-law.
Nilkanta never dared openly to show his enmity to Satish. But he would contrive81 a hundred petty ways of causing him annoyance82. When Satish went [Pg 141] for a swim in the river, and left his soap on the steps of the bathing-place, on coming back for it he would find that it had disappeared. Once he found his favourite striped tunic83 floating past him on the water, and thought it had been blown away by the wind.
One day Kiran, desiring to entertain Satish, sent for Nilkanta to recite as usual, but he stood there in gloomy silence. Quite surprised, Kiran asked him what was the matter. But he remained silent. And when again pressed by her to repeat some particular favourite piece of hers, he answered: "I don't remember," and walked away.
At last the time came for their return home. Everybody was busy packing up. Satish was going with them. But to Nilkanta nobody said a word. The question whether he was to go or not seemed to have occurred to nobody.
The subject, as a matter of fact, had been raised by Kiran, who had proposed to take him along with them. But her husband and his mother and brother had all objected so strenuously84 that she let the matter drop. A couple of days before they were to start, she sent for the boy, and with kind words advised him to go back to his own home.
So many days had he felt neglected that this touch of kindness was too much for him; he burst into [Pg 142] tears. Kiran's eyes were also brimming over. She was filled with remorse85 at the thought that she had created a tie of affection, which could not be permanent.
But Satish was much annoyed at the blubbering of this overgrown boy. "Why does the fool stand there howling instead of speaking?" said he. When Kiran scolded him for an unfeeling creature, he replied: "My dear sister, you do not understand. You are too good and trustful. This fellow turns up from the Lord knows where, and is treated like a king. Naturally the tiger has no wish to become a mouse again. And he has evidently discovered that there is nothing like a tear or two to soften86 your heart."
Nilkanta hurriedly left the spot. He felt he would like to be a knife to cut Satish to pieces; a needle to pierce him through and through; a fire to burn him to ashes. But Satish was not even scared. It was only his own heart that bled and bled.
Satish had brought with him from Calcutta a grand inkstand. The inkpot was set in a mother-of-pearl boat drawn by a German-silver goose supporting a penholder. It was a great favourite of his, and he cleaned it carefully every day with an old silk handkerchief. Kiran would laugh, and tapping the silver bird's beak87 would say [Pg 143]—
Twice-born bird, ah! wherefore stirred
To wrong our royal lady?
and the usual war of words would break out between her and her brother-in-law.
The day before they were to start, the inkstand was missing and could nowhere be found. Kiran smiled, and said: "Brother-in-law, your goose has flown off to look for your Damayanti."
But Satish was in a great rage. He was certain that Nilkanta had stolen it—for several people said they had seen him prowling about the room the night before. He had the accused brought before him. Kiran also was there. "You have stolen my inkstand, you thief!" he blurted88 out. "Bring it back at once." Nilkanta had always taken punishment from Sharat, deserved or undeserved, with perfect equanimity89. But, when he was called a thief in Kiran's presence, his eyes blazed with a fierce anger, his breast swelled90, and his throat choked. If Satish had said another word, he would have flown at him like a wild cat and used his nails like claws.
Kiran was greatly distressed91 at the scene, and taking the boy into another room said in her sweet, kind way: "Nilu, if you really have taken that inkstand give it to me quietly, and I shall see that no one says another word to you about it." Big tears coursed down the boy's cheeks, till at last he [Pg 144] hid his face in his hands, and wept bitterly. Kiran came back from the room and said: "I am sure Nilkanta has not taken the inkstand." Sharat and Satish were equally positive that no other than Nilkanta could have done it.
But Kiran said determinedly92: "Never."
Sharat wanted to cross-examine the boy, but his wife refused to allow it.
Then Satish suggested that his room and box should be searched. And Kiran said: "If you dare do such a thing I will never forgive you. You shall not spy on the poor innocent boy." And as she spoke93, her wonderful eyes filled with tears. That settled the matter and effectually prevented any further molestation94 of Nilkanta.
Kiran's heart overflowed95 with pity at this attempted outrage96 on a homeless lad. She got two new suits of clothes and a pair of shoes, and with these and a banknote in her hand she quietly went into Nilkanta's room in the evening. She intended to put these parting presents into his box as a surprise. The box itself had been her gift.
From her bunch of keys she selected one that fitted and noiselessly opened the box. It was so jumbled97 up with odds98 and ends that the new clothes would not go in. So she thought she had better take everything out and pack the box for him. At [Pg 145] first knives, tops, kite-flying reels, bamboo twigs, polished shells for peeling green mangoes, bottoms of broken tumblers and such like things dear to a boy's heart were discovered. Then there came a layer of linen99, clean and otherwise. And from under the linen there emerged the missing inkstand, goose and all.
Kiran, with flushed face, sat down helplessly with the inkstand in her hand, puzzled and wondering.
In the meantime, Nilkanta had come into the room from behind without Kiran knowing it. He had seen the whole thing and thought that Kiran had come like a thief to catch him in his thieving,—and that his deed was out. How could he ever hope to convince her that he was not a thief, and that only revenge had prompted him to take the inkstand, which he meant to throw into the river at the first chance? In a weak moment he had put it in the box instead. "He was not a thief," his heart cried out, "not a thief!" Then what was he? What could he say? That he had stolen, and yet he was not a thief? He could never explain to Kiran how grievously wrong she was. And then, how could he bear the thought that she had tried to spy on him?
At last Kiran with a deep sigh replaced the inkstand in the box, and, as if she were the thief herself, covered it up with the linen and the trinkets [Pg 146] as they were before; and at the top she placed the presents, together with the banknote which she had brought for him.
The next day the boy was nowhere to be found. The villagers had not seen him; the police could discover no trace of him. Said Sharat: "Now, as a matter of curiosity, let us have a look at his box." But Kiran was obstinate100 in her refusal to allow that to be done.
She had the box brought up to her own room; and taking out the inkstand alone, she threw it into the river.
The whole family went home. In a day the garden became desolate101. And only that starving mongrel of Nilkanta's remained prowling along the river-bank, whining65 and whining as if its heart would break.
WORDS TO BE STUDIED
favourite. A certain number of words such as honour, colour, favour, ardour, fervour have come into English through the French from the Latin. There is a constant tendency to-day in modern English to leave out the letter "u" and spell color, favor, etc. But this movement has not yet gained much ground in England.
wiseacres. This form originally comes from the Dutch. The ending "acres" is a corruption102 of the Dutch "seggen" which is the same as the English to say. The word is equivalent to "wise-sayers."
deign13. This is a word which comes through the French [Pg 147] from the Latin "dignus," meaning worthy103. Compare indignant, dignitary, condign104, indignity105.
troupe. An example of two words, with slightly different meanings, coming from one and the same French word. The French word is "troupe," meaning a company. This form is used in English for a company of players or actors. But the form "troop" is used chiefly of soldiers.
automatically. This is a modern English word from the Greek "autos," meaning self. Compare autobiography106, autonomy, autocracy107. Modern English is drawing largely from the Greek language for its new words.
alliteration. The Latin word for letter is "littera." From this we get many English words, e.g. letter, literate108, literal, literature, illiterate109, obliterate110, transliterate, etc.
mirage. From the Latin "mirari," to wonder. Compare mirror, miracle, admire. This is one of the words in English which keeps the old French accent on the last syllable—miráge. The tendency in English is always to throw the accent back as far as possible. Many words have changed their pronunciation in the course of time. Obdurate111, in Milton's time, was pronounced obdúrate, but to-day it is pronounced óbdurate. Trafalgar was pronounced Trafalgár last century. Now we pronounce it Trafálgar.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
demons
|
|
| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
doom
|
|
| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
lashed
|
|
| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
groans
|
|
| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
villa
|
|
| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
immortal
|
|
| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
writ
|
|
| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
wont
|
|
| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
beholder
|
|
| n.观看者，旁观者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
deigned
|
|
| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
deign
|
|
| v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
ply
|
|
| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
disconsolately
|
|
| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
disarmed
|
|
| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
unconditionally
|
|
| adv.无条件地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
ashore
|
|
| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
expressive
|
|
| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
theatrical
|
|
| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
troupe
|
|
| n.剧团，戏班；杂技团；马戏团 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
foundered
|
|
| v.创始人( founder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
ripening
|
|
| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
lured
|
|
| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
stature
|
|
| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
immature
|
|
| adj.未成熟的，发育未全的，未充分发展的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
puckered
|
|
| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
publicity
|
|
| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
ripened
|
|
| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
misty
|
|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
exultation
|
|
| n.狂喜，得意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
tunes
|
|
| n.曲调，曲子( tune的名词复数 )v.调音( tune的第三人称单数 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
trifling
|
|
| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
alliteration
|
|
| n.（诗歌的）头韵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
wilt
|
|
| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
slay
|
|
| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
destitute
|
|
| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
fabled
|
|
| adj.寓言中的，虚构的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
flickering
|
|
| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
hindrance
|
|
| n.妨碍，障碍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
drudge
|
|
| n.劳碌的人；v.做苦工，操劳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
rustling
|
|
| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
mirage
|
|
| n.海市蜃楼，幻景 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
despoiled
|
|
| v.掠夺，抢劫( despoil的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
cuff
|
|
| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
advent
|
|
| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
reconciliations
|
|
| 和解( reconciliation的名词复数 )； 一致； 勉强接受； （争吵等的）止息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
peals
|
|
| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
avenge
|
|
| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
resound
|
|
| v.回响 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
whining
|
|
| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
twigs
|
|
| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
shrubs
|
|
| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
cane
|
|
| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
delicacies
|
|
| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
bliss
|
|
| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
satiety
|
|
| n.饱和；(市场的)充分供应 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
rinsed
|
|
| v.漂洗( rinse的过去式和过去分词 )；冲洗；用清水漂洗掉（肥皂泡等）；（用清水）冲掉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
sobs
|
|
| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
grievance
|
|
| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
redress
|
|
| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
soothed
|
|
| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
caresses
|
|
| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
wrath
|
|
| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
contrive
|
|
| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
annoyance
|
|
| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
tunic
|
|
| n.束腰外衣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
strenuously
|
|
| adv.奋发地，费力地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
remorse
|
|
| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
soften
|
|
| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
beak
|
|
| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
blurted
|
|
| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
equanimity
|
|
| n.沉着，镇定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
swelled
|
|
| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
distressed
|
|
| 痛苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
determinedly
|
|
| adv.决意地；坚决地，坚定地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
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： |
|
|
|
|
94
molestation
|
|
| n.骚扰，干扰，调戏；折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
overflowed
|
|
| 溢出的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
outrage
|
|
| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
jumbled
|
|
| adj.混乱的；杂乱的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
odds
|
|
| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
obstinate
|
|
| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
corruption
|
|
| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
condign
|
|
| adj.应得的，相当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
indignity
|
|
| n.侮辱，伤害尊严，轻蔑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
autobiography
|
|
| n.自传 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
autocracy
|
|
| n.独裁政治，独裁政府 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
literate
|
|
| n.学者；adj.精通文学的，受过教育的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
illiterate
|
|
| adj.文盲的；无知的；n.文盲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
obliterate
|
|
| v.擦去，涂抹，去掉...痕迹，消失，除去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
obdurate
|
|
| adj.固执的，顽固的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |