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Wide golden streaming Regent Street was quite near. Some near narrow street would lead into it.
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Flags of pavement flowing along—smooth clean grey squares and oblongs, faintly polished, shaping and drawing away—sliding into each other.... I am part of the dense7 smooth clean paving stone ... sunlit; gleaming under dark winter rain; shining under warm sunlit rain, sending up a fresh stony8 smell ... always there ... dark and light ... dawn, stealing....
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Life streamed up from the close dense stone. With every footstep she felt she could fly.
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The little dignified9 high-built cut-through street, with its sudden walled-in church, swept round and opened into brightness and a clamour of central sounds ringing harshly up into the sky.
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The pavement of heaven.
To walk along the radiant pavement of sunlit Regent Street forever.
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She sped along looking at nothing. Shops passed by, bright endless caverns10 screened with glass ... the bright teeth of a grand piano running along the edge of its darkness, a cataract11 of light pouring down its raised lid; forests of hats; dresses, shining against darkness, bright headless crumpling12 stalks; sly, silky, ominous13 furs; metals, cold and clanging, brandishing14 the light; close prickling fire of jewels ... strange people who bought these things, touched and bought them.
8
She pulled up sharply in front of a window. The pavement round it was clear, allowing her to stand rooted where she had been walking, in the middle of the pavement, in the midst of the tide flowing from the clear window, a soft fresh tide of sunlit colours ... clear green glass shelves laden15 with shapes of fluted16 glass, glinting transparencies of mauve and amber17 and green, rose-pearl and milky18 blue, welded to a flowing tide, freshening and flowing through her blood, a sea rising and falling with her breathing.
9
The edge had gone from the keenness of the light. The street was a happy, sunny, simple street—small. She was vast. She could gather up the buildings in her arms and push them away, clearing the sky ... a strange darkling and she would sleep. She felt drowsy19, a drowsiness20 in her brain and limbs and great strength, and hunger.
A clock told her she had been away from Brook21 Street ten minutes. Twenty minutes to spare. What should she do with her strength? Talk to someone or write ... Bob; where was Bob? Somewhere in the West End. She would write from the West End a note to him in the West End.
10
There were no cheap shops in Regent Street. She looked about. Across the way a little side street showing a small newspaper shop offered help.
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Thoroughly22 frightened she hurried with clenched23 hands down the little mean street ready to give up her scheme at the first sight of an unfriendly eye. “We went through those awful
side streets off the West End; I was terrified; I didn’t know where he was driving us,” Mrs. Poole had said about a cabman driving to the theatre ... and her face as she sat in her thick pink dress by the dining-room fire had been cunning and mean and full of terror. A small shop appeared close at hand, there were newspaper posters propped24 outside it and its window was full of fly-blown pipes, toilet requisites25, stationery26 and odd-looking books. “Letters may be left here,” said a dirty square of cardboard in the corner of the window. “That’s all right,” thought Miriam, “it’s a sort of agency.” She plunged27 into the gloomy interior. “Yes!” shouted a tall stout28 man with a red coarse face coming forward, as if she had asked something that had made him angry. “I want some notepaper, just a little, the smallest quantity you have and an envelope,” said Miriam, quivering and panic-stricken in the hostile atmosphere. The man turned and whisked a small packet off a shelf, throwing it down on the counter before her. “One penny!” bellowed29 the man as she took it up. “Oh, thank you,” murmured Miriam ingratiatingly putting down twopence. “Do you sell pencils?” The man’s great
fingers seemed an endless time wrenching30 a small metal-sheathed pencil from its card. The street outside would have closed in and swallowed her up forever if she did not quickly get away.
12
“Dear Mr. Greville,” she wrote in a clear bold hand.... He won’t expect me to have that kind of handwriting, like his own, but stronger. He’ll admire it on the page and then hear a man’s voice, Pater’s voice talking behind it and not like it. Me. He’d be a little afraid of it. She felt her hard self standing31 there as she wrote, and shifted her feet a little, raising one heel from the ground, trying to feminise her attitude; but her hat was hard against her forehead, her clothes would not flow.... “Just imagine that I am in town—I could have helped you with your shopping if I had known I was coming....” The first page was half filled. She glanced at her neighbours, a woman on one side and a man on the other, both bending over telegram forms in a careless preoccupied32 way—wealthy, with expensive clothes with West End lines.... Regent Street was Salviati’s. It was Liberty’s and a music shop and the shop with the chickens.
But most of all it was Salviati’s. She feared the officials behind the long grating could see by the expression of her shoulders that she was a scrubby person who was breaking the rules by using one of the little compartments33 with its generosity34 of ink and pen and blotting35 paper, for letter writing. Someone was standing impatiently just behind her, waiting for her place. “Telle est la vie,” she concluded with a flourish, “yours sincerely,” and addressed the envelope in almost illegible36 scrawls37. Guiltily she bought a stamp and dropped the letter with a darkening sense of guilt38 into the box. It fell with a little muffled39 plop that resounded40 through her as she hurried away towards Brook Street. She walked quickly, to make everything surrounding her move more quickly. London revelled41 and clamoured softly all round her; she strode her swiftest heightening its clamorous42 joy. The West End people, their clothes, their carriages and hansoms, their clean bright spring-filled houses, their restaurants and the theatres waiting for them this evening, their easy way with each other, the mysterious something behind their faces, was hers. She, too, now had a mysterious secret face—a West End life of her own....
点击收听单词发音
1 softened | |
(使)变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 ); 缓解打击; 缓和; 安慰 | |
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2 crumb | |
n.饼屑,面包屑,小量 | |
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3 fraying | |
v.(使布、绳等)磨损,磨破( fray的现在分词 ) | |
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4 scarlet | |
n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
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5 pouching | |
vt.& vi.(使)成为袋状(pouch的现在分词形式) | |
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6 streaked | |
adj.有条斑纹的,不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 );使布满条纹 | |
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7 dense | |
a.密集的,稠密的,浓密的;密度大的 | |
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8 stony | |
adj.石头的,多石头的,冷酷的,无情的 | |
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9 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
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10 caverns | |
大山洞,大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
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11 cataract | |
n.大瀑布,奔流,洪水,白内障 | |
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12 crumpling | |
压皱,弄皱( crumple的现在分词 ); 变皱 | |
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13 ominous | |
adj.不祥的,不吉的,预兆的,预示的 | |
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14 brandishing | |
v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 );炫耀 | |
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15 laden | |
adj.装满了的;充满了的;负了重担的;苦恼的 | |
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16 fluted | |
a.有凹槽的 | |
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17 amber | |
n.琥珀;琥珀色;adj.琥珀制的 | |
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18 milky | |
adj.牛奶的,多奶的;乳白色的 | |
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19 drowsy | |
adj.昏昏欲睡的,令人发困的 | |
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20 drowsiness | |
n.睡意;嗜睡 | |
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21 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
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22 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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23 clenched | |
v.紧握,抓紧,咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24 propped | |
支撑,支持,维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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25 requisites | |
n.必要的事物( requisite的名词复数 ) | |
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26 stationery | |
n.文具;(配套的)信笺信封 | |
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27 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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29 bellowed | |
v.发出吼叫声,咆哮(尤指因痛苦)( bellow的过去式和过去分词 );(愤怒地)说出(某事),大叫 | |
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30 wrenching | |
n.修截苗根,苗木铲根(铲根时苗木不起土或部分起土)v.(猛力地)扭( wrench的现在分词 );扭伤;使感到痛苦;使悲痛 | |
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31 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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32 preoccupied | |
adj.全神贯注的,入神的;被抢先占有的;心事重重的v.占据(某人)思想,使对…全神贯注,使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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33 compartments | |
n.间隔( compartment的名词复数 );(列车车厢的)隔间;(家具或设备等的)分隔间;隔层 | |
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34 generosity | |
n.大度,慷慨,慷慨的行为 | |
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35 blotting | |
吸墨水纸 | |
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36 illegible | |
adj.难以辨认的,字迹模糊的 | |
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37 scrawls | |
潦草的笔迹( scrawl的名词复数 ) | |
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38 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
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39 muffled | |
adj.(声音)被隔的;听不太清的;(衣服)裹严的;蒙住的v.压抑,捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 );用厚厚的衣帽包着(自己) | |
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40 resounded | |
v.(指声音等)回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 );产生回响;(指某处)回荡着声音 | |
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41 revelled | |
v.作乐( revel的过去式和过去分词 );狂欢;着迷;陶醉 | |
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42 clamorous | |
adj.吵闹的,喧哗的 | |
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