Nothing in the place was more blatantly11 mediaeval than the village green, across which Georgie took his tripping steps after leaving the presence of his queen. Round it stood a row of great elms, and in its centre was the ducking-pond, according to Riseholme tradition, though perhaps in less classical villages it might have passed merely for a duck-pond. But in Riseholme it would have been rank heresy12 to dream, even in the most pessimistic moments, of its being anything but a ducking-pond. Close by it stood a pair of stocks, about which there was no doubt whatever, for Mr Lucas had purchased them from a neighbouring iconoclastic13 village, where they were going to be broken up, and, after having them repaired, had presented them to the village-green, and chosen their site close to the ducking pond. Round the green were grouped the shops of the village, slightly apart from the residential14 street, and at the far end of it was that undoubtedly15 Elizabethan hostelry, the Ambermere Arms, full to overflowing16 of ancient tables and bible-boxes, and fire-dogs and fire-backs, and bottles and chests and settles. These were purchased in large quantities by the American tourists who swarmed17 there during the summer months, at a high profit to the nimble proprietor18, who thereupon purchased fresh antiquities19 to take their places. The Ambermere Arms in fact was the antique furniture shop of the place, and did a thriving trade, for it was much more interesting to buy objects out of a real old Elizabethan inn, than out of a shop.
Georgie had put his smart military cape20 over his arm for his walk, and at intervals22 applied23 his slim forefinger24 to one nostril25, while he breathed in through the other, continuing the practice which he had observed going on in Mrs Quantock’s garden. Though it made him a little dizzy, it certainly produced a sort of lightness, but soon he remembered the letter from Mrs Quantock which Lucia had read out, warning her that these exercises ought to be taken under instruction, and so desisted. He was going to deliver Lucia’s answer at Mrs Quantock’s house, and with a view to possibly meeting the Guru, and being introduced to him, he said over to himself “Guru, Guru, Guru” instead of doing deep breathing, in order to accustom26 himself to the unusual syllables27.
It would, of course, have been very strange and unRiseholme-like to have gone to a friend’s door, even though the errand was so impersonal28 a one as bearing somebody else’s note, without enquiring29 whether the friend was in, and being instantly admitted if she was, and as a matter of fact, Georgie caught a glimpse, when the knocker was answered (Mrs Quantock did not have a bell at all), through the open door of the hall, of Mrs Quantock standing30 in the middle of the lawn on one leg. Naturally, therefore, he ran out into the garden without any further formality. She looked like a little round fat stork31, whose legs had not grown, but who preserved the habits of her kind.
“Dear lady, I’ve brought a note for you,” he said, “it’s from Lucia.”
The other leg went down, and she turned on him the wide firm smile that she had learned in the vanished days of Christian32 Science.
“Om,” said Mrs Quantock, expelling the remainder of her breath. “Thank you, my dear Georgie. It’s extraordinary what Yoga has done for me already. Cold quite gone. If ever you feel out of sorts, or depressed33 or cross you can cure yourself at once. I’ve got a visitor staying with me.”
“Have you indeed?” asked Georgie, without alluding34 to the thrilling excitements which had trodden so close on each other’s heels since yesterday morning when he had seen the Guru in Rush’s shop.
“Yes; and as you’ve just come from dear Lucia’s perhaps she may have said something to you about him, for I wrote to her about him. He’s a Guru of extraordinary sanctity from Benares, and he’s teaching me the Way. You shall see him too, unless he’s meditating35. I will call to him; if he’s meditating he won’t hear me, so we shan’t be interrupting him. He wouldn’t hear a railway accident if he was meditating.”
She turned round towards the house.
“Guru, dear!” she called.
There was a moment’s pause, and the Indian’s face appeared at a window.
“Beloved lady!” he said.
“Guru dear, I want to introduce a friend of mine to you,” she said. “This is Mr Pillson, and when you know him a little better you will call him Georgie.”
“Beloved lady, I know him very well indeed. I see into his clear white soul. Peace be unto you, my friend.”
“Isn’t he marvellous? Fancy!” said Mrs Quantock, in an aside.
Georgie raised his hat very politely.
“How do you do?” he said. (After his quiet practice he would have said “How do you do Guru?” but it rhymed in a ridiculous manner and his red lips could not frame the word.)
“I am always well,” said the Guru, “I am always young and well because I follow the Way.”
“Sixty at least he tells me,” said Mrs Quantock in a hissing36 aside, probably audible across the channel, “and he thinks more, but the years make no difference to him. He is like a boy. Call him ‘Guru.’”
“Guru — ” began Georgie.
“Yes, my friend.”
“I am very glad you are well,” said Georgie wildly. He was greatly impressed, but much embarrassed. Also it was so hard to talk at a second-story window with any sense of ease, especially when you had to address a total stranger of extraordinary sanctity from Benares.
Luckily Mrs Quantock came to the assistance of his embarrassment37.
“Guru dear, are you coming down to see us?” she asked.
“Beloved lady, no!” said the level voice. “It is laid on me to wait here. It is the time of calm and prayer when it is good to be alone. I will come down when the guides bid me. But teach our dear friend what I have taught you. Surely before long I will grasp his earthly hand, but not now. Peace! Peace! and Light!”
“Have you got some Guides as well?” asked Georgie when the Guru disappeared from the window. “And are they Indians too?”
“Oh, those are his spiritual guides,” said Mrs Quantock, “He sees them and talks to them, but they are not in the body.”
She gave a happy sigh.
“I never have felt anything like it,” she said. “He has brought such an atmosphere into the house that even Robert feels it, and doesn’t mind being turned out of his dressing-room. There, he has shut the window. Isn’t it all marvellous?”
Georgie had not seen anything particularly marvellous yet, except the phenomenon of Mrs Quantock standing on one leg in the middle of the lawn, but presumably her emotion communicated itself to him by the subtle infection of the spirit.
“And what does he do?” he asked.
“My dear, it is not what he does, but what he is,” said she. “Why, even my little bald account of him to Lucia has made her ask him to her garden-party. Of course I can’t tell whether he will go or not. He seems so very much — how shall I say it? — so very much sent to Me. But I shall of course ask him whether he will consent. Trances and meditation38 all day! And in the intervals such serenity39 and sweetness. You know, for instance, how tiresome40 Robert is about his food. Well, last night the mutton, I am bound to say, was a little underdone, and Robert was beginning to throw it about his plate in the way he has. Well, my Guru got up and just said, ‘Show me the way to kitchen’— he leaves out little words sometimes, because they don’t matter — and I took him down, and he said ‘Peace!’ He told me to leave him there, and in ten minutes he was up again with a little plate of curry41 and rice and what had been underdone mutton, and you never ate anything so good. Robert had most of it and I had the rest, and my Guru was so pleased at seeing Robert pleased. He said Robert had a pure white soul, just like you, only I wasn’t to tell him, because for him the Way ordained42 that he must find it out for himself. And today before lunch again, the Guru went down in the kitchen, and my cook told me he only took a pinch of pepper and a tomato and a little bit of mutton fat and a sardine43 and a bit of cheese, and he brought up a dish that you never saw equalled. Delicious! I shouldn’t a bit wonder if Robert began breathing-exercises soon. There is one that makes you lean and young and exercises the liver.”
This sounded very entrancing.
“Can’t you teach me that?” asked Georgie eagerly. He had been rather distressed44 about his increasing plumpness for a year past, and about his increasing age for longer than that. As for his liver he always had to be careful.
She shook her head.
“You cannot practise it except under tuition from an expert,” she said.
Georgie rapidly considered what Hermy’s and Ursy’s comments would be if, when they arrived tomorrow, he was found doing exercises under the tuition of a Guru. Hermy, when she was not otter-hunting, could be very sarcastic45, and he had a clear month of Hermy in front of him, without any otter-hunting, which, so she had informed him, was not possible in August. This was mysterious to Georgie, because it did not seem likely that all otters46 died in August, and a fresh brood came in like caterpillars47. If Hermy was here in October, she would otter-hunt all morning and snore all afternoon, and be in the best of tempers, but the August visit required more careful steering48. Yet the prospect49 of being lean and young and internally untroubled was wonderfully tempting50.
“But couldn’t he be my Guru as well?” he asked.
Quite suddenly and by some demoniac possession, a desire that had been only intermittently51 present in Mrs Quantock’s consciousness took full possession of her, a red revolutionary insurgence52 hoisted53 its banner. Why with this stupendous novelty in the shape of a Guru shouldn’t she lead and direct Riseholme instead of Lucia? She had long wondered why darling Lucia should be Queen of Riseholme, and had, by momentary54 illumination, seen herself thus equipped as far more capable of exercising supremacy55. After all, everybody in Riseholme knew Lucia’s old tune56 by now, and was in his secret consciousness quite aware that she did not play the second and third movements of the Moonlight Sonata57, simply because they “went faster,” however much she might cloak the omission58 by saying that they resembled eleven o’clock in the morning and 3 p.m. And Mrs Quantock had often suspected that she did not read one quarter of the books she talked about, and that she got up subjects in the Encyclopaedia59, in order to make a brave show that covered essential ignorance. Certainly she spent a good deal of money over entertaining, but Robert had lately made twenty times daily what Lucia spent annually60, over Roumanian oils. As for her acting61, had she not completely forgotten her words as Lady Macbeth in the middle of the sleep-walking scene?
But here was Lucia, as proved by her note, and her A. D. C. Georgie, wildly interested in the Guru. Mrs Quantock conjectured62 that Lucia’s plan was to launch the Guru at her August parties, as her own discovery. He would be a novelty, and it would be Lucia who gave Om-parties and breathing-parties and standing-on-one-leg parties, while she herself, Daisy Quantock, would be bidden to these as a humble63 guest, and Lucia would get all the credit, and, as likely as not, invite the discoverer, the inventress, just now and then. Mrs Quantock’s Guru would become Lucia’s Guru and all Riseholme would flock hungrily for light and leading to The Hurst. She had written to Lucia in all sincerity64, hoping that she would extend the hospitality of her garden-parties to the Guru, but now the very warmth of Lucia’s reply caused her to suspect this ulterior motive65. She had been too precipitate66, too rash, too ill-advised, too sudden, as Lucia would say. She ought to have known that Lucia, with her August parties coming on, would have jumped at a Guru, and withheld67 him for her own parties, taking the wind out of Lucia’s August sails. Lucia had already suborned Georgie to leave this note, and begin to filch68 the Guru away. Mrs Quantock saw it all now, and clearly this was not to be borne. Before she answered, she steeled herself with the triumph she had once scored in the matter of the Welsh attorney.
“Dear Georgie,” she said, “no one would be more delighted than I if my Guru consented to take you as a pupil. But you can’t tell what he will do, as he said to me today, apropos69 of myself, ‘I cannot come unless I’m sent.’ Was not that wonderful? He knew at once he had been sent to me.”
By this time Georgie was quite determined70 to have the Guru. The measure of his determination may be gauged71 from the fact that he forgot all about Lucia’s garden-party.
“But he called me his friend,” he said. “He told me I had a clean white soul.”
“Yes; but that is his attitude towards everybody,” said Mrs Quantock. “His religion makes it impossible for him to think ill of anybody.”
“But he didn’t say that to Rush,” cried Georgie, “when he asked for some brandy, to be put down to you.”
Mrs Quantock’s expression changed for a moment, but that moment was too short for Georgie to notice it. Her face instantly cleared again.
“Naturally he cannot go about saying that sort of thing,” she observed. “Common people — he is of the highest caste — would not understand him.”
Georgie made the direct appeal.
“Please ask him to teach me,” he said.
For a moment Mrs Quantock did not answer, but cocked her head sideways in the direction of the pear-tree where a thrush was singing. It fluted72 a couple of repeated phrases and then was silent again.
Mrs Quantock gave a great smile to the pear-tree.
“Thank you, little brother,” she said.
She turned to Georgie again.
“That comes out of St. Francis,” she said, “but Yoga embraces all that is true in every religion. Well, I will ask my Guru whether he will take you as a pupil, but I can’t answer for what he will say.”
“What does he — what does he charge for his lesson?” asked Georgie.
The Christian Science smile illuminated73 her face again.
“The word ‘money’ never passes his lips,” she said. “I don’t think he really knows what it means. He proposed to sit on the green with a beggar’s bowl but of course I would not permit that, and for the present I just give him all he wants. No doubt when he goes away, which I hope will not be for many weeks yet, though no one can tell when he will have another call, I shall slip something suitably generous into his hand, but I don’t think about that. Must you be going? Good night, dear Georgie. Peace! Om!”
His last backward glance as he went out of the front door revealed her standing on one leg again, just as he had seen her first. He remembered a print of a fakir at Benares, standing in that attitude; and if the stream that flowed into the Avon could be combined with the Ganges, and the garden into the burning ghaut, and the swooping74 swallows into the kites, and the neat parlour-maid who showed him out, into a Brahmin, and the Chinese gong that was so prominent an object in the hall into a piece of Benares brassware, he could almost have fancied himself as standing on the brink75 of the sacred river. The marigolds in the garden required no transmutation. . . .
Georgie had quite “to pull himself together,” as he stepped round Mrs Quantock’s mulberry tree, and ten paces later round his own, before he could recapture his normal evening mood, on those occasions when he was going to dine alone. Usually these evenings were very pleasant and much occupied, for they did not occur very often in this whirl of Riseholme life, and it was not more than once a week that he spent a solitary76 evening, and then, if he got tired of his own company, there were half a dozen houses, easy of access where he could betake himself in his military cloak, and spend a post-prandial hour. But oftener than not when these occasions occurred, he would be quite busy at home, dusting a little china, and rearranging ornaments77 on his shelves, and, after putting his rings and handkerchief in the candle-bracket of the piano, spending a serious hour (with the soft pedal down, for fear of irritating Robert) in reading his share of such duets as he would be likely to be called upon to play with Lucia during the next day or two. Though he read music much better than she did, he used to “go over” the part alone first, and let it be understood that he had not seen it before. But then he was sure that she had done precisely78 the same, so they started fair. Such things whiled away very pleasantly the hours till eleven, when he went to bed, and it was seldom that he had to set out Patience-cards to tide him over the slow minutes.
But every now and then — and tonight was one of those occasions — there occurred evenings when he never went out to dinner even if he was asked, because he “was busy indoors.” They occurred about once a month (these evenings that he was “busy indoors”)— and even an invitation from Lucia would not succeed in disturbing them. Ages ago Riseholme had decided79 what made Georgie “busy indoors” once a month, and so none of his friends chatted about the nature of his engagements to anyone else, simply because everybody else knew. His business indoors, in fact, was a perfect secret, from having been public property for so long.
June had been a very busy time, not “indoors,” but with other engagements, and as Georgie went up to his bedroom, having been told by Foljambe that the hair-dresser was waiting for him, and had been waiting “this last ten minutes,” he glanced at his hair in the Cromwellian mirror that hung on the stairs, and was quite aware that it was time he submitted himself to Mr Holroyd’s ministrations. There was certainly an undergrowth of grey hair visible beneath his chestnut80 crop, that should have been attended to at least a fortnight ago. Also there was a growing thinness in the locks that crossed his head; Mr Holroyd had attended to that before, and had suggested a certain remedy, not in the least inconvenient6, unless Georgie proposed to be athletic81 without a cap, in a high wind, and even then not necessarily so. But as he had no intention of being athletic anywhere, with or without a cap, he determined as he went up the stairs that he would follow Mr Holroyd’s advice. Mr Holroyd’s procedure, without this added formula, entailed82 sitting “till it dried,” and after that he would have dinner, and then Mr Holroyd would begin again. He was a very clever person with regard to the face and the hands and the feet. Georgie had been conscious of walking a little lamely83 lately; he had been even more conscious of the need of hot towels on his face and the “tap-tap” of Mr Holroyd’s fingers, and the stretchings of Mr Holroyd’s thumb across rather slack surfaces of cheek and chin. In the interval21 between the hair and the face, Mr Holroyd should have a good supper downstairs with Foljambe and the cook. And tomorrow morning, when he met Hermy and Ursy, Georgie would be just as spick and span and young as ever, if not more so.
Georgie (happy innocent!) was completely unaware84 that the whole of Riseholme knew that the smooth chestnut locks which covered the top of his head, were trained like the tendrils of a grapevine from the roots, and flowed like a river over a bare head, and consequently when Mr Holroyd explained the proposed innovation, a little central wig85, the edges of which would mingle86 in the most natural manner with his own hair, it seemed to Georgie that nobody would know the difference. In addition he would be spared those risky87 moments when he had to take off his hat to a friend in a high wind, for there was always the danger of his hair blowing away from the top of his head, and hanging down, like the tresses of a Rhine-maiden over one shoulder. So Mr Holroyd was commissioned to put that little affair in hand at once, and when the greyness had been attended to, and Georgie had had his dinner, there came hot towels and tappings on his face, and other ministrations. All was done about half past ten, and when he came downstairs again for a short practice at the bass88 part of Beethoven’s fifth symphony, ingeniously arranged for two performers on the piano, he looked with sincere satisfaction at his rosy89 face in the Cromwellian mirror, and his shoes felt quite comfortable again, and his nails shone like pink stars, as his hands dashed wildly about the piano in the quicker passages. But all the time the thought of the Guru next door, under whose tuition he might be able to regain90 his youth without recourse to those expensive subterfuges91 (for the price of the undetectable toupet astonished him) rang in his head with a melody more haunting than Beethoven’s. What he would have liked best of all would have been to have the Guru all to himself, so that he should remain perpetually young, while all the rest of Riseholme, including Hermy and Ursy, grew old. Then, indeed, he would be king of the place, instead of serving the interests of its queen.
He rose with a little sigh, and after adjusting the strip of flannel92 over the keys, shut his piano and busied himself for a little with a soft duster over his cabinet of bibelots which not even Foljambe was allowed to touch. It was generally understood that he had inherited them, though the inheritance had chiefly passed to him through the medium of curiosity shops, and there were several pieces of considerable value among them. There were a gold Louis XVI snuff box, a miniature by Karl Huth, a silver toy porringer of the time of Queen Anne, a piece of Bow china, an enamelled cigarette case by Faberge. But tonight his handling of them was not so dainty and delicate as usual, and he actually dropped the porringer on the floor as he was dusting it, for his mind still occupied itself with the Guru and the practices that led to permanent youth. How quick Lucia had been to snap him up for her garden-party. Yet perhaps she would not get him, for he might say he was not sent. But surely he would be sent to Georgie, whom he knew, the moment he set eyes on him to have a clean white soul. . . .
The clock struck eleven, and, as usual on warm nights Georgie opened the glass door into his garden and drew in a breath of the night air. There was a slip of moon in the sky which he most punctiliously93 saluted94, wondering (though he did not seriously believe in its superstition) how Lucia could be so foolhardy as to cut the new moon. She had seen it yesterday, she told him, in London, and had taken no notice whatever of it. . . . The heavens were quickly peppered with pretty stars, which Georgie after his busy interesting day enjoyed looking at, though if he had had the arrangement of them, he would certainly have put them into more definite patterns. Among them was a very red planet, and Georgie with recollections of his classical education, easily remembered that Mars, the God of War, was symbolized95 in the heavens by a red star. Could that mean anything to peaceful Riseholme? Was internal warfare96, were revolutionary movements possible in so serene97 a realm?
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1
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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accretions
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| n.堆积( accretion的名词复数 )；连生；添加生长；吸积 | |
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inconvenient
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| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
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inconveniently
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| ad.不方便地 | |
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stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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yews
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| n.紫杉( yew的名词复数 ) | |
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blatantly
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| ad.公开地 | |
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heresy
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| n.异端邪说；异教 | |
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iconoclastic
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| adj.偶像破坏的，打破旧习的 | |
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residential
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| adj.提供住宿的；居住的；住宅的 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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antiquities
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| n.古老( antiquity的名词复数 )；古迹；古人们；古代的风俗习惯 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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applied
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forefinger
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nostril
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accustom
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| vt.使适应，使习惯 | |
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syllables
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impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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enquiring
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standing
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stork
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| n.鹳 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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depressed
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alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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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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embarrassment
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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curry
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| n.咖哩粉，咖哩饭菜；v.用咖哩粉调味，用马栉梳，制革 | |
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ordained
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| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
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sardine
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| n.[C]沙丁鱼 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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otters
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| n.（水）獭( otter的名词复数 )；獭皮 | |
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caterpillars
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| n.毛虫( caterpillar的名词复数 )；履带 | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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intermittently
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| adv.间歇地；断断续续 | |
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insurgence
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| n.起义；造反；暴动；叛乱 | |
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hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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sonata
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| n.奏鸣曲 | |
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omission
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| n.省略，删节；遗漏或省略的事物，冗长 | |
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encyclopaedia
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| n.百科全书 | |
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annually
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| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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conjectured
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| 推测，猜测，猜想( conjecture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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withheld
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| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
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filch
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| v.偷窃 | |
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apropos
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| adv.恰好地；adj.恰当的；关于 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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gauged
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| adj.校准的；标准的；量规的；量计的v.（用仪器）测量( gauge的过去式和过去分词 )；估计；计量；划分 | |
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fluted
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| a.有凹槽的 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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swooping
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的现在分词 ) | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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entailed
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| 使…成为必要( entail的过去式和过去分词 )； 需要； 限定继承； 使必需 | |
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lamely
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| 一瘸一拐地，不完全地 | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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subterfuges
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| n.（用说谎或欺骗以逃脱责备、困难等的）花招，遁词( subterfuge的名词复数 ) | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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punctiliously
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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symbolized
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| v.象征，作为…的象征( symbolize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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