Ordham felt that he had every reason to be happy. Were not he and Margarethe Styr going for a long day in the country, a long unbroken day? Although they had carried out their programme and visited many sights, still was it their first whole day together. Rehearsals8 demanded by the heterogeneous9 mass of singers they had been able to borrow from German cities had stolen many of her free days; she had felt obliged to attend three receptions arranged in her honour and receive once; and during the coming week practically all her spare time would be occupied with rehearsals for Tannh?user and Lohengrin, for she had not sung the r?les of Elizabeth and Elsa for several years. But these hours they had snatched together had been wholly delightful11, their spirits had been high to the edge of excitement; both took a nervous delight in playing with a danger that would soon finish, leave them face to face either with tragedy or a vast and cynical12 philosophy. It was tacitly understood that this was to be their last period of companionship, and although Ordham alternated between the pit of melancholy13 when alone and an almost fierce sensation of happiness while with this woman, whom he found more surely his than in the old days when his eyes were closed, he refused at any time to ask more of fate or to dwell upon the future. But that he was no longer the languid manageable youth of less than a year ago he knew as well as she. If he too put ambition before love, accepted the consequences of his marrying, it was because he chose to do so, not because of the woman’s subtle manipulation. Ordham sometimes found an added food for sadness in the knowledge that he had left the best of his youth behind him, but was wise enough to congratulate himself that his acute attack of racial industry had cleared his blood of blinding humours.
But only to Styr was there any change in his appearance, and as he entered her sitting room this morning he looked the archetype of conquering youth, of splendid young English manhood. His mouth, which of late had often been consciously firm, was as soft and boyish as when they had met at Neuschwanstein, and his eyes, always luminous14, were sparkling with anticipation15. Not the least of his attractions to Styr was his perfect grooming16, for being artist as well as woman, she hated the sight of “artistic” men. She herself looked very smart, as he immediately told her, in an entire costume of tan-coloured cloth. As the day was warm and she could not wear a wrap, and as her tailor was the best in Paris, her frock followed every line and curve of her perfect figure. But as she had concluded to ignore the fact that Ordham was man as well as soul, and circumstances protected them both, she saw no reason for making herself clumsy and uncomfortable, as if he were a boy and she his guardian17! Moreover, she was not averse18 from leaving in his memory as many charming pictures of herself as might be composed.
“How delicious it is merely to be alive!” she exclaimed with that enthusiasm which, when the sullenness20 of her face was routed by the mere19 pagan joy of living, was not the least of her fascinations21. “Where are we going?” she added, as they entered a hansom.
“I have not the least idea.” But in a moment he lifted the trap and directed the cabby to drive to Euston Station.
They alighted at Bushey, and, hiring a carriage for the day, drove or strolled through the old English lanes, with their high scented22 hedges, past houses built for subjects of Elizabeth, visited the tomb of Bacon at St. Albans, and even stared at the splendours of Hatfield House like veritable tourists, Ordham characteristically neglecting to mention that he had dined and slept there more than once. They idled on commons and in woods almost as full of light, lunched at the famous inn of Harrow, sat on the tomb favoured by Byron in the old town’s churchyard, hung over high-walled fences to inhale24 the perfume of flowers that the island’s moisture makes so rich, and to stare at the immense masses of pink and white hawthorn25; bought fruit of a farmer (grown under glass, of course!) and sat on his wall to eat it. Few counties in England have more charms than Hertfordshire, and not its least is that it is practically undiscovered by the tourist.
They dined in the inn at Stanmore, dismissing their carriage, as they could take the train at this beautiful old town, which invited them to linger as long as it was light. They soon forsook26 the enormous joints27, the mess of greens, the peas as round and hard as marbles, and an apple dumpling like a tunnel filled with the débris of many wrecks28, and wandered forth29 once more. The streets were very narrow, the houses, of a dozen centuries, covered with ivy30 close cut; the church looked as old as England. At this hour the little town was silent and outwardly deserted31, but one expected every moment to hear the sound of a horn, to see the London coach dash round a corner, a post-chaise with a lady in powder and patches at the window. Stanmore is so close to London that it was the first town reached by the mounted courier galloping32 through the dawn to tell the country that Victoria was queen, but it is as old and quiet and forgotten as if it were lost in one of the great counties of the north.
Gypsy wagons33 were halted on one corner of the heath, and the women cooked supper in the early twilight34 while the men lay on the ground and smoked their pipes. Their children, catching35 sight of two prosperous strangers, ran without prompting to beg. Ordham and Margarethe gave them silver, then, declining to have their fortunes told, in other words getting rid of them, strolled out over the heath. This large piece of waste land is as wild as anything in America, broken and rough of surface and covered with tangled36 grasses and shrubs37. Beyond was what looked to be a black mass of woods, but the glimpse of a gateway38 suggested that they might be but the generously planted trees of a park. A grey church spire39 of some distant hamlet stood out sharply against a red band of afterglow. There was an intermittent40 tinkle41 of cow-bells, but no other sound.
They sat down in the very centre of the heath and watched the twilight gather, that long English twilight without chill or dew which brings with it something of the mystery of night while still holding in a loose embrace the safeguards of day. At that hour the flowers smell more sweetly, the night moths42 flutter among them, and man feels that his day’s work is done. A pungent43 scent23 rose from the gorse of Stanmore Heath, but Margarethe, who had felt as exhilarated all day as if she were a girl unexpectedly alone with a man secretly loved, felt her spirits drop. She remembered who she was and one of her objects in coming to London. So far not a word had passed between them concerning his married life. They had renewed the old intimate friendship in snatches that made them eager for more, but had found much to talk about in the monuments they visited, the most tactful programme for Covent Garden, in many subjects of common impersonal44 interest. But Margarethe had determined45 upon at least one crossed and dotted conversation with Ordham, and she believed this to be the time.
Ordham, too, was silent, staring straight before him with an expression which Styr had seen before when words lagged, an expression of mingled46 abstraction, astonishment47, and apprehension48.
“I want the whole story,” she said abruptly49.
He turned to her with a start and flush. “The whole story?”
“Yes. All that has happened since we parted in Munich.”
“I thought we were to ignore the subject of my marriage.”
“To ignore is not to forget. I have tormented50 myself with so many versions—possibilities—how shall I call it? I want the truth. It will lay the ghost.”
“I am afraid you will hate me. I was an inconceivable ass10.”
“No—it is wonderful that the story should be always the same and always different! But I hate generalities. I cannot go on confounding you with millions of other men. I want the specific incidents, your own version. A man’s viewpoint is always his best excuse.”
“Very well.” And as his love for her had always appealed to the carefully secluded51 fount of truth in his nature, for love would be wholly truth were it not for life, he told the story from beginning to end, omitting neither the skilful52 plot he had since unravelled53, nor his own abject54 surrender.
“I loved Mabel; there can be no doubt of that. I suppose that the long root of such love is the axis55 of life. It permits millions to marry every day that have little or no prospect56 of educating or even supporting possible offspring; but if they paused to forecast, in other words, if their brains were not in a state of toxic57 poisoning from this love secretion58, whatever it may be, the race would soon put an end to itself. Perhaps in time the law will step in and forbid marriages before the man is thirty and the woman twenty-five. As for the turbulence59 of desire and suffering—after one has endured the acute stage for a certain length of time, there is bound to be a decline and reaction. Man simply cannot suffer and desire at concert pitch forever. Moreover, did the law forbid the banns, a man would take jolly good care to keep out of harm’s way. But I know now that even had Mabel been all they made me believe, all that she looked, I should have ceased to care tuppence for her, although no doubt rather later. It is not necessary to explain the reason to you. A man may love many times in his life, but only one woman takes full and complete possession of his inner kingdom, as you have called it. Man is a sultan. One woman is his sultana; the others, absorbing enough during their little hour, are the caprices of his desultory60 harem. It is odd that his legal wife should so often be but one of these casual minor61 passions, and the woman he may never possess the one to persuade him of the immortality62 of love. It is a nice comment upon the makeshifts of civilization.”
Styr stirred uneasily. She was white, for the story had cut her even more deeply than she had anticipated. It is not pleasant to hear your chosen idol63 draw a picture of his youthful passion, his first abandon for another woman. She had clenched64 her long hands, and a blast from the furnace of her soul sped in the direction of Grosvenor Square. But she answered judicially65: “The first study of civilized66 nations is every possible precaution against anarchy67. They are doing their little best; we can only wait until the world grows wiser.” Then she laughed with a fair assumption of gayety. “It is something more than humorous that I should be the one to say that, not you: I, Margarethe Styr, and you, John Ordham, so soon to be a hereditary68 legislator of the most wisely governed country on earth. Well! Never mind! I have played many r?les in my life.”
“Will you not tell me that story now?” he asked eagerly. “You have half promised, more than once. And I am sick of outrageous69 concoctions70. The truth could not be worse.”
“The truth is always worse, when there is any foundation for gossip at all. No!” she said violently, her voice harsh with the revolt let loose by his own story. “I will never tell you. It is only because I have lived so much, suffered so much, weathered a thousand storms, that I have been able to listen to all you have told me to-night without hating you. Were it otherwise, were I ten years younger, it would be months before I should want even to look at you again. You could never stand a similar—a far worse test. This life may not be for us, but at all events you shall never hear from my lips what would make you—Ah! Bah!”
“Do you believe in another life?” he asked, tactfully ignoring this outburst, in which he secretly exulted71.
“This inner life of ours does not undergo death and resurrection for nothing,” she replied sullenly72. “Nor is imagination a mere offshoot of the active mind. If it means anything, it means that somewhere, in some future incarnation, or on some more satisfactory planet, its supernormal efforts will become the facts of existence. And what then? Still subtler and more imperative73 wants that can only be realized in a higher state still? It makes one incline to Buddhism74 and Nirvana.”
“Either way of looking at it is a poor compensation for the disappointments of this life, when you are young, at least; and when you are old, you don’t care. The trouble is with civilization. We need a new religion. Perhaps the solution is in a combination of the Eastern and Western forms. It is as significant that Christianity has converted but one-third of the Earth’s peoples as that the remaining two-thirds are an anomaly in this eve of the twentieth century. The last are too supercilious75 in their ancient wisdom to borrow anything from us. We are raw conceited76 schoolboys, too ignorant, and worse, to help ourselves from their abundant stores. Perhaps the time will come.”
Margarethe suppressed her feminine resentment77 at generalities in the twilight. “Well, that may be one of your many missions. But it was not a personal craving78 alone that made me demand the history of these last ten months. It is an immense relief to me to know that your eyes are opened, that you are no longer blinded by either love or cunning. I have a strong suspicion, and so has Excellenz, that they do not intend you shall go abroad. I have heard since my arrival of your wife’s consuming ambition to be a beauty in London, of her detestation of Continental79 life, the third, or fourth, fiddle80 she would be forced to play for many years. They will keep you here if they can.”
“I have heard nothing of all this, but I shouldn’t wonder—and it makes no difference. As soon as my wife is able to travel, I go to whatever post is open to me. I should go the day you left London had I not given my word to remain here until September or thereabouts.”
“And what if she refuses to go with you?”
Ordham smiled grimly. “I have not the faintest idea she will refuse to go with me when she is persuaded that no argument or threat will keep me at home. I can understand that she will hate to leave London,—England,—but she will accompany me. Small doubt of that.”
Margarethe set her teeth. It was with some difficulty that she clung to the programme she had worked out before arriving in England. To manipulate him until his wife should be abhorrent81 and desertion inevitable82, with the consequent scandal and disaster, was not the part she had set herself to play in his life. But when the rich soil of a woman’s nature, long covered with the volcanic83 ashes of old passions, which conserve84 and fertilize85, is sprouting86 with the roses and the toadstools of a new passion, the r?les of operatic masterpieces are mere play to that of the disinterested87 friend. Margarethe had come to this renewal88 of their intimacy89 secure in the belief that her passions were either dead or safely entombed; but they had revealed themselves, insolent90 and powerful, when, shaken with the tumults91 of Isolde, she had met his eyes that first night in Covent Garden. She was appalled92, but her will lost nothing of its strength, she had practised self-control for many years; and by one of those profound and obscure contradictions, ever manifesting themselves in human nature, her idealism recovered from its late inertia93 and entered upon a new lease. The more insistently94 and unequivocally love spoke95, the more determined she grew that descend96 to that buried plane set thick with awful corpses97 she would not, those dead foul98 memories that must forever make the materializing of love mean but one more carnal experience. Once she could have idealized this bond, even had she known Ordham in her ignorant youth, a thousand times more had she met him with a mature mind and a past of even comparative ignorance; but now, the moment she gave herself, all power of idealism would be slain99, and she believed that she should kill herself—perhaps him as well.
Nor was self-control an unendurable tax. She had passed that first and best period of reproductiveness, when passion drowns reason, nor had she reached that age when so many women fatally awaken5 to the fact that but a bit of youth remains100 and they had best make the most of it. Moreover, perhaps the vitalest point of all, she was a great artist with the world at her feet. Poor women, that had only their good intentions to bulwark101 them! She threw them a passing sympathy.
“Perhaps it is not necessary,” she said abruptly, “but I should like your promise that you will permit nothing to interfere102 with your career, the public exercise of your best energies. I know that you will not reply, ‘Of course!’ and that if you make me the promise you will keep it.”
“The promise is not necessary, but you shall have it if you wish. What else have I left? Were it not for that prospect of future usefulness and activity—I don’t care to think of what I should become—or be doing at the present moment.”
“Speculation would be throwing away good time, for without the abilities which are driving you into a career you would not be you. But what you must husband at present are your opportunities. In some subtle way, your wife, supported by your mother, who seems to have great political influence—I believe you told me that two of her cousins or uncles are in the present cabinet?—might rear obstacles, create postponements, until the government wiped you off its slate103 as a trifler who was blocking the way of more serious men.”
He sat up in a sudden fright. “I’ll go to the F. O. to-morrow and ask definitely for a post in September, giving my word that nothing less than a mortal illness shall prevent my departure the moment I get orders.”
She leaned forward eagerly, and, taking his hand, held it against her breast, which was neither cold nor calm. “You promise me that, you swear it,” she whispered.
He trembled violently, his lids dropped, and he made a sudden movement as if to take her in his arms. She stood up.
“Gypsies have strong eyes,” she said lightly.
“So much the better,” said Ordham.
“If you kiss me, this will be the last time we shall ever be alone.”
“Again, so much the better. I am going to kiss you, and I am willing to take the consequences. If you run from me, you will stumble.”
He caught her in his arms and kissed her a great many times. And she knew that she should be eternally grateful to him for these few moments of terrified happiness he forced her to admit. But she was grateful also for the gypsies.
She disengaged herself and stood back a pace. “They are coming this way,” she said. “You have not given me that other promise.”
He stood before her, whipping one hand with the gloves he held in the other. His face was so white that it would have looked dead but for the eyes, which were black and blazing. He answered steadily104 enough, however:
“I swear, since you will have it, that, as much to erect105 a monument to this love of ours, as to gratify my own ambition and compensate106 myself for the bleakness107 of my personal life, I will do what I can to make a great and useful man of myself.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
vender
|
|
| n.小贩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
plaintive
|
|
| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
withdrawn
|
|
| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
banished
|
|
| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
awaken
|
|
| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
blessing
|
|
| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
rehearsals
|
|
| n.练习( rehearsal的名词复数 )；排练；复述；重复 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
heterogeneous
|
|
| adj.庞杂的；异类的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
ass
|
|
| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
cynical
|
|
| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
luminous
|
|
| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
anticipation
|
|
| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
grooming
|
|
| n. 修饰, 美容，（动物）梳理毛发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
guardian
|
|
| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
averse
|
|
| adj.厌恶的；反对的，不乐意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
sullenness
|
|
| n. 愠怒, 沉闷, 情绪消沉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
fascinations
|
|
| n.魅力( fascination的名词复数 )；有魅力的东西；迷恋；陶醉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
scented
|
|
| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
inhale
|
|
| v.吸入(气体等)，吸(烟) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
hawthorn
|
|
| 山楂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
forsook
|
|
| forsake的过去式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
joints
|
|
| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
wrecks
|
|
| n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 )；（事故中）遭严重毁坏的汽车（或飞机等）；（身体或精神上）受到严重损伤的人；状况非常糟糕的车辆（或建筑物等）v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 )；使（船舶）失事，使遇难，使下沉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
ivy
|
|
| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
galloping
|
|
| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
wagons
|
|
| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
tangled
|
|
| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
shrubs
|
|
| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
gateway
|
|
| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
spire
|
|
| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
intermittent
|
|
| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
tinkle
|
|
| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
moths
|
|
| n.蛾( moth的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
pungent
|
|
| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
impersonal
|
|
| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
tormented
|
|
| 饱受折磨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
secluded
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
skilful
|
|
| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
unravelled
|
|
| 解开，拆散，散开( unravel的过去式和过去分词 )； 阐明； 澄清； 弄清楚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
abject
|
|
| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
axis
|
|
| n.轴，轴线，中心线；坐标轴，基准线 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
toxic
|
|
| adj.有毒的，因中毒引起的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
secretion
|
|
| n.分泌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
turbulence
|
|
| n.喧嚣，狂暴，骚乱，湍流 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
desultory
|
|
| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
minor
|
|
| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
immortality
|
|
| n.不死，不朽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
idol
|
|
| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
clenched
|
|
| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
judicially
|
|
| 依法判决地，公平地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
civilized
|
|
| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
anarchy
|
|
| n.无政府状态；社会秩序混乱，无秩序 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
hereditary
|
|
| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
outrageous
|
|
| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
concoctions
|
|
| n.编造，捏造，混合物( concoction的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
exulted
|
|
| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
sullenly
|
|
| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
imperative
|
|
| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
Buddhism
|
|
| n.佛教（教义） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
supercilious
|
|
| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
conceited
|
|
| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
craving
|
|
| n.渴望,热望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
continental
|
|
| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
fiddle
|
|
| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
abhorrent
|
|
| adj.可恶的，可恨的，讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
volcanic
|
|
| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
conserve
|
|
| vt.保存，保护，节约，节省，守恒，不灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
fertilize
|
|
| v.使受精，施肥于，使肥沃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
sprouting
|
|
| v.发芽( sprout的现在分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
disinterested
|
|
| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
renewal
|
|
| adj.(契约)延期，续订，更新，复活，重来 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
intimacy
|
|
| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
insolent
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
tumults
|
|
| 吵闹( tumult的名词复数 )； 喧哗； 激动的吵闹声； 心烦意乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
92
appalled
|
|
| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
inertia
|
|
| adj.惰性，惯性，懒惰，迟钝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
insistently
|
|
| ad.坚持地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
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： |
|
|
|
|
96
descend
|
|
| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
corpses
|
|
| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
slain
|
|
| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
bulwark
|
|
| n.堡垒，保障，防御 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
slate
|
|
| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
compensate
|
|
| vt.补偿，赔偿；酬报 vi.弥补；补偿；抵消 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
bleakness
|
|
| adj. 萧瑟的, 严寒的, 阴郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |