I
“With the most heartfelt joy, my dear Major, I take up my pen to announce to you the happy arrival of the Ramchunder, and the dearest and handsomest little boy who, I am sure, ever came from India. Little Clive is in perfect health. He speaks English wonderfully well. He cried when he parted from Mr. Sneid, the supercargo, who most kindly1 brought him from Southampton in a postchaise, but these tears in childhood are of very brief duration! The voyage, Mr. Sneid states, was most favourable2, occupying only four months and eleven days. How different from that more lengthened3 and dangerous passage of eight months, and almost perpetual sea-sickness, in which my poor dear sister Emma went to Bengal, to become the wife of the best of husbands and the mother of the dearest of little boys, and to enjoy these inestimable blessings4 for so brief an interval6! She has quitted this wicked and wretched world for one where all is peace. The misery7 and ill-treatment which she endured from Captain Case her first odious8 husband, were, I am sure, amply repaid, my dear Colonel, by your subsequent affection. If the most sumptuous9 dresses which London, even Paris, could supply, jewellery the most costly10, and elegant lace, and everything lovely and fashionable, could content a woman, these, I am sure, during the last four years of her life, the poor girl had. Of what avail are they when this scene of vanity is closed?
“Mr. Sneid announces that the passage was most favourable. They stayed a week at the Cape11, and three days at St. Helena, where they visited Bonaparte’s tomb (another instance of the vanity of all things!), and their voyage was enlivened off Ascension by the taking of some delicious turtle!
“You may be sure that the most liberal sum which you have placed to my credit with the Messrs. Hobson and Co. shall be faithfully expended12 on my dear little charge. Mrs. Newcome can scarcely be called his grandmamma, I suppose; and I daresay her Methodistical ladyship will not care to see the daughter and grandson of a clergyman of the Church of England! My brother Charles took leave to wait upon her when he presented your last most generous bill at the bank. She received him most rudely, and said a fool and his money are soon parted; and when Charles said, ‘Madam, I am the brother of the late Mrs. Major Newcome,’ ‘Sir,’ says she, ‘I judge nobody; but from all accounts, you are the brother of a very vain, idle, thoughtless, extravagant14 woman; and Thomas Newcome was as foolish about his wife as about his money.’ Of course, unless Mrs. N. writes to invite dear Clive, I shall not think of sending him to Clapham.
“It is such hot weather that I cannot wear the beautiful shawl you have sent me, and shall keep it in lavender till next winter! My brother, who thanks you for your continuous bounty15, will write next month, and report progress as to his dear pupil. Clive will add a postscript16 of his own, and I am, my dear Major, with a thousand thanks for your kindness to me, — Your grateful and affectionate Martha Honeyman.”
In a round hand and on lines ruled with pencil:—
“Dearest Papa i am very well i hope you are Very Well. M Sneed brought me in a postchaise i like Mr. Sneed very much. i like Aunt Martha i like Hannah. There are no ships here i am your affectionate son Clive Newcome.”
II
Rue17 St. Dominique, St. Germain, Paris,
Nov. 15, 1820,
“Long separated from the country which was the home of my youth, I carried from her tender recollections, and bear her always a lively gratitude18. The Heaven has placed me in a position very different from that in which I knew you. I have been the mother of many children. My husband has recovered a portion of the property which the Revolution tore from us; and France, in returning to its legitimate20 sovereign, received once more the nobility which accompanied his august house into exile. We, however, preceded His Majesty21, more happy than many of our companions. Believing further resistance to be useless; dazzled, perhaps, by the brilliancy of that genius which restored order, submitted Europe, and governed France; M. de Florac, in the first days, was reconciled to the Conqueror22 of Marengo and Austerlitz, and held a position in his Imperial Court. This submission23, at first attributed to infidelity, has subsequently been pardoned to my husband. His sufferings during the Hundred Days made to pardon his adhesion to him who was Emperor. My husband is now an old man. He was of the disastrous24 campaign of Moscow, as one of the chamberlains of Napoleon. Withdrawn25 from the world, he gives his time to his feeble health — to his family — to Heaven.
“I have not forgotten a time before those days, when, according to promises given by my father, I became the wife of M. de Florac. Sometimes I have heard of your career. One of my parents, M. de F., who took service in the English India, has entertained me of you; he informed me how yet a young man you won laurels27 at Argom and Bhartpour; how you escaped to death at Laswari. I have followed them, sir, on the map. I have taken part in your victories and your glory. Ah! I am not so cold, but my heart has trembled for your dangers; not so aged28, but I remember the young man who learned from the pupil of Frederick the first rudiments29 of war. Your great heart, your love of truth, your courage were your own. None had to teach you those qualities, of which a good God had endowed you, My good father is dead since many years. He, too, was permitted to see France before to die.
“I have read in the English journals not only that you are married, but that you have a son. Permit me to send to your wife, to your child, these accompanying tokens of an old friendship. I have seen that Mistress Newcome was widow, and am not sorry of it. My friend, I hope there was not that difference of age between your wife and you that I have known in other unions. I pray the good God to bless yours. I hold you always in my memory. As I write, the past comes back to me. I see a noble young man, who has a soft voice, and brown eyes. I see the Thames, and the smiling plains of Blackheath. I listen and pray at my chamber-door as my father talks to you in our little cabinet of studies. I look from my window, and see you depart.
“My son’s are men: one follows the profession of arms, one has embraced the ecclesiastical state; my daughter is herself a mother. I remember this was your birthday; I have made myself a little fete in celebrating it, after how many years of absence, of silence! Comtesse De Florac.
(Nee L. de Blois.)”
III
“My Dear Thomas — Mr. Sneid, supercargo of the Ramchunder, East Indiaman, handed over to us yesterday your letter, and, today, I have purchased three thousand three hundred and twenty-three pounds 6 and 8d. three per cent Consols, in our joint30 names (H. and B. Newcome), held for your little boy. Mr. S. gives a very favourable account of the little man, and left him in perfect health two days since, at the house of his aunt, Miss Honeyman. We have placed 200 pounds to that lady’s credit, at your desire.
“Lady Anne is charmed with the present which she received yesterday, and says the white shawl is a great deal too handsome. My mother is also greatly pleased with hers, and has forwarded, by the coach to Brighton, today, a packet of books, tracts31, etc., suited for his tender age, for your little boy. She heard of you lately from the Rev19. T. Sweatenham on his return from India. He spoke32 of your kindness — and of the hospitable33 manner in which you had received him at your house, and alluded34 to you in a very handsome way in the course of the thanksgiving that evening. I dare say my mother will ask your little boy to the Hermitage; and when we have a house of our own, I am sure Anne and I will be very happy to see him. Yours affectionately, Major Newcome. B. Newcome.”
IV
“My Dear Colonel — Did I not know the generosity36 of your heart, and the bountiful means which Heaven has put at your disposal in order to gratify that noble disposition37; were I not certain that the small sum I required will permanently38 place me beyond the reach of the difficulties of life, and will infallibly be repaid before six months are over, believe me I never would have ventured upon that bold step which our friendship (carried on epistolarily as it has been), our relationship, and your admirable disposition, have induced me to venture to take.
“That elegant and commodious39 chapel40, known as Lady Whittlesea’s, Denmark Street, Mayfair, being for sale, I have determined41 on venturing my all in its acquisition, and in laying, as I hope, the foundation of a competence42 for myself and excellent sister. What is a lodging43-house at Brighton but an uncertain maintenance? The mariner44 on the sea before those cliffs is no more sure of wind and wave, or of fish to his laborious46 net, than the Brighton house-owner (bred in affluence47 she may have been, and used to unremitting plenty) to the support of the casual travellers who visit the city. On one day they come in shoals, it is true, but where are they on the next? For many months my poor sister’s first floor was a desert, until occupied by your noble little boy, my nephew and pupil. Clive is everything that a father’s, an uncle’s (who loves him as a father), a pastor’s, a teacher’s affections could desire. He is not one of those premature48 geniuses whose much-vaunted infantine talents disappear along with adolescence49; he is not, I frankly50 own, more advanced in his classical and mathematical studies than some children even younger than himself; but he has acquired the rudiments of health; he has laid in a store of honesty and good-humour, which are not less likely to advance him in life than mere51 science and language, than the as in praesenti, or the pons asinorum.
“But I forget, in thinking of my dear little friend and pupil, the subject of this letter — namely, the acquisition of the proprietary52 chapel to which I have alluded, and the hopes, nay53, certainty of a fortune, if aught below is certain, which that acquisition holds out. What is a curacy, but a synonym54 for starvation? If we accuse the Eremites of old of wasting their lives in unprofitable wildernesses55, what shall we say to many a hermit35 of Protestant, and so-called civilised times, who hides his head in a solitude56 in Yorkshire, and buries his probably fine talents in a Lincolnshire fen57? Have I genius? Am I blessed with gifts of eloquence58 to thrill and soothe59, to arouse the sluggish60, to terrify the sinful, to cheer and convince the timid, to lead the blind groping in darkness, and to trample61 the audacious sceptic in the dust? My own conscience, besides a hundred testimonials from places of popular, most popular worship, from reverend prelates, from distinguished62 clergy13, tells me I have these gifts. A voice within me cries, ‘Go forth63, Charles Honeyman, fight the good fight; wipe the tears of the repentant64 sinner; sing of hope to the agonised criminal; whisper courage, brother, courage, at the ghastly deathbed, and strike down the infidel with the lance of evidence and the shield of reason!’ In a pecuniary65 point of view I am confident, nay, the calculations may be established as irresistibly66 as an algebraic equation, that I can realise, as incumbent67 of Lady Whittlesea’s chapel, the sum of not less than one thousand pounds per annum. Such a sum, with economy (and without it what sum were sufficient?), will enable me to provide amply for my wants, to discharge my obligations to you, to my sister, and some other creditors69, very, very unlike you, and to place Miss Honeyman in a home more worthy70 of her than that which she now occupies, only to vacate it at the beck of every passing stranger!
“My sister does not disapprove71 of my plan, into which enter some modifications72 which I have not, as yet, submitted to her, being anxious at first that they should be sanctioned by you. From the income of the Whittlesea chapel I propose to allow Miss Honeyman the sum of two hundred pounds per annum, paid quarterly. This, with her private property, which she has kept more thriftily73 than her unfortunate and confiding74 brother guarded his (for whenever I had a guinea a tale of distress75 would melt it into half a sovereign), will enable Miss Honeyman to live in a way becoming my father’s daughter.
“Comforted with this provision as my sister will be, I would suggest that our dearest young Clive should be transferred from her petticoat government, and given up to the care of his affectionate uncle and tutor. His present allowance will most liberally suffice for his expenses, board, lodging, and education while under my roof, and I shall be able to exert a paternal76, a pastoral influence over his studies, his conduct, and his highest welfare, which I cannot so conveniently exercise at Brighton, where I am but Miss Honeyman’s stipendiary, and where I often have to submit in cases where I know, for dearest Clive’s own welfare, it is I, and not my sister, should be paramount77.
“I have given then to a friend, the Rev. Marcus Flather a draft for two hundred and fifty pounds sterling78, drawn26 upon you at your agent’s in Calcutta, which sum will go in liquidation79 of dear Clive’s first year’s board with me, or, upon my word of honour as a gentleman and clergyman, shall be paid back at three months after sight, if you will draw upon me. As I never — no, were it my last penny in the world — would dishonour80 your draft, I implore81 you, my dear Colonel, not to refuse mine. My credit in this city, where credit is everything, and the awful future so little thought of, my engagements to Mr. Flather, my own prospects82 in life, and the comfort of my dear sister’s declining years, all — all depend upon this bold, this eventful measure. My ruin or my earthly happiness lies entirely83 in your hands. Can I doubt which way your kind heart will lead you, and that you will come to the aid of your affectionate brother-inlaw? Charles Honeyman.”
“Our little Clive has been to London on a visit to his uncles and to the Hermitage, Clapham, to pay his duty to his step-grandmother, the wealthy Mrs. Newcome. I pass over words disparaging84 of myself which the child in his artless prattles85 subsequently narrated86. She was very gracious to him, and presented him with a five-pound note, a copy of Kirk White’s Poems, and a work called Little Henry and his Bearer, relating to India, and the excellent Catechism of our Church. Clive is full of humour, and I enclose you a rude scrap87 representing the Bishopess of Clapham, as she is called — the other figure is a rude though entertaining sketch88 of some other droll89 personage.
“Lieutenant-Colonel Newcome, etc.”
V
“My Dear Colonel; — The Rev. Marcus Flather has just written me a letter at which I am greatly shocked and perplexed90, informing me that my brother Charles has given him a draft upon you for two hundred and fifty pounds, when goodness knows it is not you but we who are many, many hundred pounds debtors91 to you. Charles has explained that he drew the bill at your desire, that you wrote to say you would be glad to serve him in any way, and that the money is wanted to make his fortune. Yet I don’t know — poor Charles is always going to make his fortune and has never done it. That school which he bought, and for which you and me between us paid the purchase-money, turned out no good, and the only pupils left at the end of the first half-year were two woolly-headed poor little mulattos, whose father was in gaol92 at St. Kitt’s, and whom I kept actually in my own second-floor back room whilst the lawyers were settling things, and Charles was away in France, and until my dearest little Clive came to live with me.
“Then, as he was too small for a great school, I thought Clive could not do better than stay with his old aunt and have his Uncle Charles for a tutor, who is one of the finest scholars in the world. I wish you could hear him in the pulpit. His delivery is grander and more impressive than any divine now in England. His sermons you have subscribed93 for, and likewise his book of elegant poems, which are pronounced to be very fine.
“When he returned from Calais, and those horrid94 lawyers had left off worriting him, I thought as his frame was much shattered and he was too weak to take a curacy, that he could not do better than become Clive’s tutor, and agreed to pay him out of your handsome donation of 250 pounds for Clive, a sum of one hundred pounds per year, so that, when the board of the two and Clive’s clothing are taken into consideration, I think you will see that no great profit is left to Miss Martha Honeyman.
“Charles talks to me of his new church in London, and of making me some grand allowance. The poor boy is very affectionate, and always building castles in the air, and of having Clive to live with him in London. Now this mustn’t be, and I won’t hear of it. Charles is too kind to be a schoolmaster, and Master Clive laughs at him. It was only the other day, after his return from his grandmamma’s, regarding which I wrote you, per Burrampooter, the 23rd ult., that I found a picture of Mrs. Newcome and Charles too, and of both their spectacles, quite like. I put it away, but some rogue95, I suppose, has stolen it. He has done me and Hannah too. Mr. Speck96, the artist, laughed and took it home, and says he is a wonder at drawing.
“Instead, then, of allowing Clive to go with Charles to London next month, where my brother is bent68 on going, I shall send Clivey to Dr. Timpany’s school, Marine45 Parade, of which I hear the best account, but I hope you will think of soon sending him to a great school. My father always said it was the best place for boys, and I have a brother to whom my poor mother spared the rod, and who, I fear, has turned out but a spoilt child.
“I am, dear Colonel, your most faithful servant, Martha Honeyman.”
“Lieutenant-Colonel Newcome, C. B.”
VI
“My Dear Brother — I hasten to inform you of a calamity97 which, though it might be looked for in the course of nature, has occasioned deep grief not only in our family but in this city. This morning, at half-past four o’clock, our beloved and respected mother, Sophia Alethea Newcome, expired, at the advanced age of eighty-three years. On the night of Tuesday-Wednesday, the 12-13th, having been engaged reading and writing in her library until a late hour, and having dismissed the servants, whom she never would allow to sit up for her, as well as my brother and his wife, who always are in the habit of retiring early, Mrs. Newcome extinguished the lamps, took a bedchamber candle to return to her room, and must have fallen on the landing, where she was discovered by the maids, sitting with her head reclining against the balustrades, and endeavouring to staunch a wound in her forehead, which was bleeding profusely98, having struck in a fall against the stone step of the stair.
“When Mrs. Newcome was found she was speechless, but still sensible, and medical aid being sent for, she was carried to bed. Mr. Newcome and Lady Anne both hurried to her apartment, and she knew them, and took the hands of each, but paralysis99 had probably ensued in consequence of the shock of the fall; nor was her voice ever heard, except in inarticulate moanings, since the hour on the previous evening when she gave them her blessing5 and bade them good-night. Thus perished this good and excellent woman, the truest Christian100, the most charitable friend to the poor and needful, the head of this great house of business, the best and most affectionate of mothers.
“The contents of her will have long been known to us, and that document was dated one month after our lamented101 father’s death. Mr. Thomas Newcome’s property being divided equally amongst his three sons, the property of his second wife naturally devolves upon her own issue, my brother Brian and myself. There are very heavy legacies102 to servants and to charitable and religious institutions, of which, in life, she was the munificent103 patroness; and I regret, my dear brother, that no memorial to you should have been left by my mother, because she often spoke of you latterly in terms of affection, and on the very day on which she died, commenced a letter to your little boy, which was left unfinished on the library table. My brother said that on that same day, at breakfast, she pointed104 to a volume of Orme’s Hindostan, the book, she said, which set poor dear Tom wild to go to India, I know you will be pleased to hear of these proofs of returning goodwill105 and affection in one who often spoke latterly of her early regard for you. I have no more time, under the weight of business which this present affliction entails106, than to say that I am yours, dear brother, very sincerely, H. Newcome.”
“Lieutenant-Colonel Newcome, etc.”
点击收听单词发音
1 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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2 favourable | |
adj.赞成的,称赞的,有利的,良好的,顺利的 | |
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3 lengthened | |
(时间或空间)延长,伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4 blessings | |
n.(上帝的)祝福( blessing的名词复数 );好事;福分;因祸得福 | |
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5 blessing | |
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
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6 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
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7 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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8 odious | |
adj.可憎的,讨厌的 | |
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9 sumptuous | |
adj.豪华的,奢侈的,华丽的 | |
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10 costly | |
adj.昂贵的,价值高的,豪华的 | |
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11 cape | |
n.海角,岬;披肩,短披风 | |
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12 expended | |
v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 );使用(钱等)做某事;用光;耗尽 | |
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13 clergy | |
n.[总称]牧师,神职人员 | |
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14 extravagant | |
adj.奢侈的;过分的;(言行等)放肆的 | |
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15 bounty | |
n.慷慨的赠予物,奖金;慷慨,大方;施与 | |
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16 postscript | |
n.附言,又及;(正文后的)补充说明 | |
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17 rue | |
n.懊悔,芸香,后悔;v.后悔,悲伤,懊悔 | |
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18 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
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19 rev | |
v.发动机旋转,加快速度 | |
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20 legitimate | |
adj.合法的,合理的,合乎逻辑的;v.使合法 | |
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21 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
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22 conqueror | |
n.征服者,胜利者 | |
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23 submission | |
n.服从,投降;温顺,谦虚;提出 | |
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24 disastrous | |
adj.灾难性的,造成灾害的;极坏的,很糟的 | |
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25 withdrawn | |
vt.收回;使退出;vi.撤退,退出 | |
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26 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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27 laurels | |
n.桂冠,荣誉 | |
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28 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
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29 rudiments | |
n.基础知识,入门 | |
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30 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
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31 tracts | |
大片土地( tract的名词复数 ); 地带; (体内的)道; (尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的)短文 | |
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32 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 | |
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33 hospitable | |
adj.好客的;宽容的;有利的,适宜的 | |
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34 alluded | |
提及,暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35 hermit | |
n.隐士,修道者;隐居 | |
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36 generosity | |
n.大度,慷慨,慷慨的行为 | |
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37 disposition | |
n.性情,性格;意向,倾向;排列,部署 | |
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38 permanently | |
adv.永恒地,永久地,固定不变地 | |
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39 commodious | |
adj.宽敞的;使用方便的 | |
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40 chapel | |
n.小教堂,殡仪馆 | |
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41 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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42 competence | |
n.能力,胜任,称职 | |
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43 lodging | |
n.寄宿,住所;(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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44 mariner | |
n.水手号不载人航天探测器,海员,航海者 | |
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45 marine | |
adj.海的;海生的;航海的;海事的;n.水兵 | |
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46 laborious | |
adj.吃力的,努力的,不流畅 | |
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47 affluence | |
n.充裕,富足 | |
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48 premature | |
adj.比预期时间早的;不成熟的,仓促的 | |
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49 adolescence | |
n.青春期,青少年 | |
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50 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
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51 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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52 proprietary | |
n.所有权,所有的;独占的;业主 | |
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53 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
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54 synonym | |
n.同义词,换喻词 | |
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55 wildernesses | |
荒野( wilderness的名词复数 ); 沙漠; (政治家)在野; 不再当政(或掌权) | |
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56 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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57 fen | |
n.沼泽,沼池 | |
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58 eloquence | |
n.雄辩;口才,修辞 | |
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59 soothe | |
v.安慰;使平静;使减轻;缓和;奉承 | |
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60 sluggish | |
adj.懒惰的,迟钝的,无精打采的 | |
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61 trample | |
vt.踩,践踏;无视,伤害,侵犯 | |
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62 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
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63 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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64 repentant | |
adj.对…感到悔恨的 | |
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65 pecuniary | |
adj.金钱的;金钱上的 | |
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66 irresistibly | |
adv.无法抵抗地,不能自持地;极为诱惑人地 | |
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67 incumbent | |
adj.成为责任的,有义务的;现任的,在职的 | |
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68 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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69 creditors | |
n.债权人,债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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70 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
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71 disapprove | |
v.不赞成,不同意,不批准 | |
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72 modifications | |
n.缓和( modification的名词复数 );限制;更改;改变 | |
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73 thriftily | |
节俭地; 繁茂地; 繁荣的 | |
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74 confiding | |
adj.相信人的,易于相信的v.吐露(秘密,心事等)( confide的现在分词 );(向某人)吐露(隐私、秘密等) | |
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75 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
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76 paternal | |
adj.父亲的,像父亲的,父系的,父方的 | |
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77 paramount | |
a.最重要的,最高权力的 | |
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78 sterling | |
adj.英币的(纯粹的,货真价实的);n.英国货币(英镑) | |
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79 liquidation | |
n.清算,停止营业 | |
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80 dishonour | |
n./vt.拒付(支票、汇票、票据等);vt.凌辱,使丢脸;n.不名誉,耻辱,不光彩 | |
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81 implore | |
vt.乞求,恳求,哀求 | |
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82 prospects | |
n.希望,前途(恒为复数) | |
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83 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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84 disparaging | |
adj.轻蔑的,毁谤的v.轻视( disparage的现在分词 );贬低;批评;非难 | |
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85 prattles | |
v.(小孩般)天真无邪地说话( prattle的第三人称单数 );发出连续而无意义的声音;闲扯;东拉西扯 | |
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86 narrated | |
v.故事( narrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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87 scrap | |
n.碎片;废料;v.废弃,报废 | |
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88 sketch | |
n.草图;梗概;素描;v.素描;概述 | |
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89 droll | |
adj.古怪的,好笑的 | |
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90 perplexed | |
adj.不知所措的 | |
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91 debtors | |
n.债务人,借方( debtor的名词复数 ) | |
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92 gaol | |
n.(jail)监狱;(不加冠词)监禁;vt.使…坐牢 | |
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93 subscribed | |
v.捐助( subscribe的过去式和过去分词 );签署,题词;订阅;同意 | |
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94 horrid | |
adj.可怕的;令人惊恐的;恐怖的;极讨厌的 | |
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95 rogue | |
n.流氓;v.游手好闲 | |
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96 speck | |
n.微粒,小污点,小斑点 | |
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97 calamity | |
n.灾害,祸患,不幸事件 | |
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98 profusely | |
ad.abundantly | |
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99 paralysis | |
n.麻痹(症);瘫痪(症) | |
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100 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
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101 lamented | |
adj.被哀悼的,令人遗憾的v.(为…)哀悼,痛哭,悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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102 legacies | |
n.遗产( legacy的名词复数 );遗留之物;遗留问题;后遗症 | |
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103 munificent | |
adj.慷慨的,大方的 | |
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104 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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105 goodwill | |
n.善意,亲善,信誉,声誉 | |
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106 entails | |
使…成为必要( entail的第三人称单数 ); 需要; 限定继承; 使必需 | |
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