THE WEEK passed away. On the Saturday it rained, a soft drizzling1 rain that held off at times. In one of the intervals2 Gudrun and Ursula set out for a walk, going towards Willey Water. The atmosphere was grey and translucent3, the birds sang sharply on the young twigs4, the earth would be quickening and hastening in growth. The two girls walked swiftly, gladly, because of the soft, subtle rush of morning that filled the wet haze5. By the road the black-thorn was in blossom, white and wet, its tiny amber6 grains burning faintly in the white smoke of blossom. Purple twigs were darkly luminous7 in the grey air, high hedges glowed like living shadows, hovering8 nearer, coming into creation. The morning was full of a new creation.
When the sisters came to Willey Water, the lake lay all grey and visionary, stretching into the moist, translucent vista9 of trees and meadow. Fine electric activity in sound came from the dumbles below the road, the birds piping one against the other, and water mysteriously plashing, issuing from the lake.
The two girls drifted swiftly along. In front of them, at the corner of the lake, near the road, was a mossy boat-house under a walnut10 tree, and a little landing-stage where a boat was moored11, wavering like a shadow on the still grey water, below the green, decayed poles. All was shadowy with coming summer.
Suddenly, from the boat-house, a white figure ran out, frightening in its swift sharp transit12, across the old landing-stage. It launched in a white arc through the air, there was a bursting of the water, and among the smooth ripples13 a swimmer was making out to space, in a centre of faintly heaving motion. The whole otherworld, wet and remote, he had to himself. He could move into the pure translucency14 of the grey, uncreated water.
Gudrun stood by the stone wall, watching.
`How I envy him,' she said, in low, desirous tones.
`Ugh!' shivered Ursula. `So cold!'
`Yes, but how good, how really fine, to swim out there!' The sisters stood watching the swimmer move further into the grey, moist, full space of the water, pulsing with his own small, invading motion, and arched over with mist and dim woods.
`Don't you wish it were you?' asked Gudrun, looking at Ursula.
`I do,' said Ursula. `But I'm not sure -- it's so wet.'
`No,' said Gudrun, reluctantly. She stood watching the motion on the bosom15 of the water, as if fascinated. He, having swum a certain distance, turned round and was swimming on his back, looking along the water at the two girls by the wall. In the faint wash of motion, they could see his ruddy face, and could feel him watching them.
`It is Gerald Crich,' said Ursula.
`I know,' replied Gudrun.
And she stood motionless gazing over the water at the face which washed up and down on the flood, as he swam steadily16. From his separate element he saw them and he exulted17 to himself because of his own advantage, his possession of a world to himself. He was immune and perfect. He loved his own vigorous, thrusting motion, and the violent impulse of the very cold water against his limbs, buoying18 him up. He could see the girls watching him a way off, outside, and that pleased him. He lifted his arm from the water, in a sign to them.
`He is waving,' said Ursula.
`Yes,' replied Gudrun. They watched him. He waved again, with a strange movement of recognition across the difference.
`Like a Nibelung,' laughed Ursula. Gudrun said nothing, only stood still looking over the water.
Gerald suddenly turned, and was swimming away swiftly, with a side stroke. He was alone now, alone and immune in the middle of the waters, which he had all to himself. He exulted in his isolation19 in the new element, unquestioned and unconditioned. He was happy, thrusting with his legs and all his body, without bond or connection anywhere, just himself in the watery20 world.
Gudrun envied him almost painfully. Even this momentary21 possession of pure isolation and fluidity seemed to her so terribly desirable that she felt herself as if damned, out there on the high-road.
`God, what it is to be a man!' she cried.
`What?' exclaimed Ursula in surprise.
`The freedom, the liberty, the mobility22!' cried Gudrun, strangely flushed and brilliant. `You're a man, you want to do a thing, you do it. You haven't the thousand obstacles a woman has in front of her.'
Ursula wondered what was in Gudrun's mind, to occasion this outburst. She could not understand.
`What do you want to do?' she asked.
`Nothing,' cried Gudrun, in swift refutation. `But supposing I did. Supposing I want to swim up that water. It is impossible, it is one of the impossibilities of life, for me to take my clothes off now and jump in. But isn't it ridiculous, doesn't it simply prevent our living!'
She was so hot, so flushed, so furious, that Ursula was puzzled.
The two sisters went on, up the road. They were passing between the trees just below Shortlands. They looked up at the long, low house, dim and glamorous23 in the wet morning, its cedar24 trees slanting25 before the windows. Gudrun seemed to be studying it closely.
`Don't you think it's attractive, Ursula?' asked Gudrun.
`Very,' said Ursula. `Very peaceful and charming.'
`It has form, too -- it has a period.'
`What period?'
`Oh, eighteenth century, for certain; Dorothy Wordsworth and Jane Austen, don't you think?'
Ursula laughed.
`Don't you think so?' repeated Gudrun.
`Perhaps. But I don't think the Criches fit the period. I know Gerald is putting in a private electric plant, for lighting26 the house, and is making all kinds of latest improvements.'
Gudrun shrugged28 her shoulders swiftly.
`Of course,' she said, `that's quite inevitable29.'
`Quite,' laughed Ursula. `He is several generations of youngness at one go. They hate him for it. He takes them all by the scruff of the neck, and fairly flings them along. He'll have to die soon, when he's made every possible improvement, and there will be nothing more to improve. He's got go, anyhow.'
`Certainly, he's got go,' said Gudrun. `In fact I've never seen a man that showed signs of so much. The unfortunate thing is, where does his go go to, what becomes of it?'
`Oh I know,' said Ursula. `It goes in applying the latest appliances!'
`Exactly,' said Gudrun.
`You know he shot his brother?' said Ursula.
`Shot his brother?' cried Gudrun, frowning as if in disapprobation.
`Didn't you know? Oh yes! -- I thought you knew. He and his brother were playing together with a gun. He told his brother to look down the gun, and it was loaded, and blew the top of his head off. Isn't it a horrible story?'
`How fearful!' cried Gudrun. `But it is long ago?'
`Oh yes, they were quite boys,' said Ursula. `I think it is one of the most horrible stories I know.'
`And he of course did not know that the gun was loaded?'
`Yes. You see it was an old thing that had been lying in the stable for years. Nobody dreamed it would ever go off, and of course, no one imagined it was loaded. But isn't it dreadful, that it should happen?'
`Frightful!' cried Gudrun. `And isn't it horrible too to think of such a thing happening to one, when one was a child, and having to carry the responsibility of it all through one's life. Imagine it, two boys playing together -- then this comes upon them, for no reason whatever -- out of the air. Ursula, it's very frightening! Oh, it's one of the things I can't bear. Murder, that is thinkable, because there's a will behind it. But a thing like that to happen to one --'
`Perhaps there was an unconscious will behind it,' said Ursula. `This playing at killing30 has some primitive31 desire for killing in it, don't you think?'
`Desire!' said Gudrun, coldly, stiffening32 a little. `I can't see that they were even playing at killing. I suppose one boy said to the other, "You look down the barrel while I pull the trigger, and see what happens." It seems to me the purest form of accident.'
`No,' said Ursula. `I couldn't pull the trigger of the emptiest gun in the world, not if some-one were looking down the barrel. One instinctively33 doesn't do it -- one can't.'
Gudrun was silent for some moments, in sharp disagreement.
`Of course,' she said coldly. `If one is a woman, and grown up, one's instinct prevents one. But I cannot see how that applies to a couple of boys playing together.'
Her voice was cold and angry.
`Yes,' persisted Ursula. At that moment they heard a woman's voice a few yards off say loudly:
`Oh damn the thing!' They went forward and saw Laura Crich and Hermione Roddice in the field on the other side of the hedge, and Laura Crich struggling with the gate, to get out. Ursula at once hurried up and helped to lift the gate.
`Thanks so much,' said Laura, looking up flushed and amazon-like, yet rather confused. `It isn't right on the hinges.'
`No,' said Ursula. `And they're so heavy.'
`Surprising!' cried Laura.
`How do you do,' sang Hermione, from out of the field, the moment she could make her voice heard. `It's nice now. Are you going for a walk? Yes. Isn't the young green beautiful? So beautiful -- quite burning. Good morning -- good morning -- you'll come and see me? -- thank you so much -- next week -- yes -good-bye, g-o-o-d b-y-e.'
Gudrun and Ursula stood and watched her slowly waving her head up and down, and waving her hand slowly in dismissal, smiling a strange affected34 smile, making a tall queer, frightening figure, with her heavy fair hair slipping to her eyes. Then they moved off, as if they had been dismissed like inferiors. The four women parted.
As soon as they had gone far enough, Ursula said, her cheeks burning,
`I do think she's impudent35.'
`Who, Hermione Roddice?' asked Gudrun. `Why?'
`The way she treats one -- impudence36!'
`Why, Ursula, what did you notice that was so impudent?' asked Gudrun rather coldly.
`Her whole manner. Oh, It's impossible, the way she tries to bully37 one. Pure bullying38. She's an impudent woman. "You'll come and see me," as if we should be falling over ourselves for the privilege.'
`I can't understand, Ursula, what you are so much put out about,' said Gudrun, in some exasperation39. `One knows those women are impudent -- these free women who have emancipated40 themselves from the aristocracy.'
`But it is so Unnecessary -- so vulgar,' cried Ursula.
`No, I don't see it. And if I did -- pour moi, elle n'existe pas. I don't grant her the power to be impudent to me.'
`Do you think she likes you?' asked Ursula.
`Well, no, I shouldn't think she did.'
`Then why does she ask you to go to Breadalby and stay with her?'
Gudrun lifted her shoulders in a low shrug27.
`After all, she's got the sense to know we're not just the ordinary run,' said Gudrun. `Whatever she is, she's not a fool. And I'd rather have somebody I detested41, than the ordinary woman who keeps to her own set. Hermione Roddice does risk herself in some respects.'
Ursula pondered this for a time.
`I doubt it,' she replied. `Really she risks nothing. I suppose we ought to admire her for knowing she can invite us -- school teachers -- and risk nothing.'
`Precisely!' said Gudrun. `Think of the myriads42 of women that daren't do it. She makes the most of her privileges -- that's something. I suppose, really, we should do the same, in her place.'
`No,' said Ursula. `No. It would bore me. I couldn't spend my time playing her games. It's infra dig.'
The two sisters were like a pair of scissors, snipping43 off everything that came athwart them; or like a knife and a whetstone, the one sharpened against the other.
`Of course,' cried Ursula suddenly, `she ought to thank her stars if we will go and see her. You are perfectly44 beautiful, a thousand times more beautiful than ever she is or was, and to my thinking, a thousand times more beautifully dressed, for she never looks fresh and natural, like a flower, always old, thought-out; and we are more intelligent than most people.'
`Undoubtedly!' said Gudrun.
`And it ought to be admitted, simply,' said Ursula.
`Certainly it ought,' said Gudrun. `But you'll find that the really chic45 thing is to be so absolutely ordinary, so perfectly commonplace and like the person in the street, that you really are a masterpiece of humanity, not the person in the street actually, but the artistic46 creation of her --'
`How awful!' cried Ursula.
`Yes, Ursula, it is awful, in most respects. You daren't be anything that isn't amazingly a terre, so much a terre that it is the artistic creation of ordinariness.'
`It's very dull to create oneself into nothing better,' laughed Ursula.
`Very dull!' retorted Gudrun. `Really Ursula, it is dull, that's just the word. One longs to be high-flown, and make speeches like Corneille, after it.'
Gudrun was becoming flushed and excited over her own cleverness.
`Strut47,' said Ursula. `One wants to strut, to be a swan among geese.'
`Exactly,' cried Gudrun, `a swan among geese.'
`They are all so busy playing the ugly duckling,' cried Ursula, with mocking laughter. `And I don't feel a bit like a humble48 and pathetic ugly duckling. I do feel like a swan among geese -- I can't help it. They make one feel so. And I don't care what they think of me. fe m'en fiche.'
Gudrun looked up at Ursula with a queer, uncertain envy and dislike.
`Of course, the only thing to do is to despise them all -- just all,' she said.
The sisters went home again, to read and talk and work, and wait for Monday, for school. Ursula often wondered what else she waited for, besides the beginning and end of the school week, and the beginning and end of the holidays. This was a whole life! Sometimes she had periods of tight horror, when it seemed to her that her life would pass away, and be gone, without having been more than this. But she never really accepted it. Her spirit was active, her life like a shoot that is growing steadily, but which has not yet come above ground.
一个星期过去了。星期六这天下起了细细的毛毛雨，时下时停。潇潇雨歇之际，戈珍和厄秀拉出来散步，朝威利湖走去。天色空濛，鸟儿在新枝上鸣啭，大地上万物竞相勃发。姐妹两人在清晨柔和、细腻的雨雾中兴致勃勃地疾行。路边黑刺李绽开了湿漉漉的白花瓣儿，那小小的棕色果粒在一团团烟儿似的白花中若隐若现。灰蒙蒙的大气中，紫色的树枝显得黯淡，高大的篱笆象活生生的阴影在闪动，忽闪忽闪的，走近了才看得清。早晨，万象更新。
姐妹两人来到威利湖畔，但见湖面一片朦胧，幻影般地向着湿漉漉空濛濛的树林和草坪伸延开去。道路下方传来微弱的电机声，鸟儿对唱着，湖水神秘地汩汩淌了出来。
两位姑娘飘然而至。前面，湖的角落里，离大路不远处，一棵胡桃树掩映着一座爬满鲜苔的停船房，还有一座浮码头，码头上停泊着一条船，象影子一样在绿色朽柱下的湖水上荡漾着。夏天就要到来了，到处都笼罩着阴影。
突然，从停船房里闪出一个白色的身影，疾速飞掠过旧浮码头。随着一道白色的孤光在空中划过，水面上飞溅起一团浪花，接着舒缓的涟漪中钻出一个游泳者。他置身的是另一个水淋淋、遥远的世界。他竟钻入了这纯洁透明的天然水域中。
戈珍站在石墙边看着。
“我真羡慕他呀。”她低沉、满怀渴望地说。
“嚯！”厄秀拉颤抖着说：“好冷！”
“是啊，可在湖里游泳是多么棒啊，真了不起！”姐妹两人站着，看着泳者游向浩淼的空濛水面，他动作很小地朝远处游着，渐渐水雾和朦胧的树林溶为一体。
“你不希望这是你自己吗？”戈珍看着厄秀拉问。
“我希望这样，”厄秀拉说，“不过我不敢肯定，这水太凉了。”
“是啊，”戈珍勉强地说。她仍然入迷地看着那人在湖心里游动。他游了一程后就翻过身来仰泳，眼睛却看着墙下的两个姑娘。她们可以看到微波中闪现出他红润的面庞，可以感到他在看她们。
“是杰拉德·克里奇。”厄秀拉说。
“我知道的，”戈珍说。
她伫立着，凝视他的脸在水上起伏，盯着他稳健地游着。他边游边看她们，他为自己深深地感到自豪，他处在优越的位置上，自己拥有一个世界。他我行我素，丝毫不受他人的影响。他喜爱自己那强有力的击水动作，喜爱冰冷的水猛烈撞击他的四肢将他浮起。他可以看到湖边上的姑娘们在看他，这真让他高兴。于是他在水中举起手臂向她们打招呼。
“他在挥动胳膊呢。”厄秀拉说。
“是啊。”戈珍回答道。她们仍然看着他。他又一次挥舞着手臂，表示看到了她们，那动作很怪。
“很象一个尼伯龙根家的人。①”厄秀拉笑道。可戈珍什么也没说，仍然默立着俯视水面。
①参见德国英雄史诗《尼伯龙根之歌》。
杰拉德突然一个翻身，用侧泳的姿式快速划走。他现在孤身一人独处湖心，拥有这里的一切。在新的环境中，他毫无疑问是兴高采烈的，他喜欢这种孤独。他幸福地舒展双腿，舒展全身，没有任何束缚，也不同任何东西发生联系，在这个水的世界中只有他自己。
戈珍太羡慕他了，就是他拥有那纯粹的孤独与流水的那一刻都让她那样渴望，她太渴望得到那一刻了。为此她感到似乎自己站在公路上受着诅咒。
“天啊，作一个男人是多么好啊！”她叫道。
“什么？”厄秀拉惊叫道。
“自由，解放，灵活！”戈珍脸色出奇地红润，光采照人地叫着。“你是一个男人，想做什么就可以做。没有女人那许许多多的障碍。”
厄秀拉弄不清戈珍脑子里在想些什么，怎么会这样突如其来地大叫。她不明白。
“那你想做什么呢？”她问道。
“什么也没有，”戈珍立即叫着驳斥她。“只是假设而已。假设我要在这水中游泳吧，可这不可能，我生活中不可能有这等事，我就不能脱掉衣服跳进水中去。可这是多么不合理啊，简直阻碍着我生活嘛！”
戈珍的脸涨得通红，她太生气了，这让厄秀拉不知所措。
姐妹两人继续在路上走着。她们这时刚好穿过肖特兰兹下方的林子。她们抬头看去，但见那一长溜矮矮的房屋在湿漉漉的清晨朦胧而富有魅力，更有棵棵雪松掩映着一扇扇窗口。戈珍似乎认真地琢磨着这幅图景。
“你不觉得它迷人吗，厄秀拉？”戈珍问。
“太迷人了，”厄秀拉说，“淡泊而迷人。”
“它是有一定风格的，属于某个时期。”
“哪个时期？”
“肯定是十八世纪，朵拉茜·华滋华斯①和简·奥斯汀那个时代，你说呢？”
①朵拉茜·华滋华斯（１７７１—１８５５），女批评家，威廉·华滋华斯的妹妹。
厄秀拉笑了。
“难道不是吗？”戈珍又问。
“也许是吧，不过我觉得克里奇家的人跟那个时期不般配。我知道，杰拉德正建一座私人发电厂，为室内供电，他还着手进行最时髦的改进呢。”
戈珍迅速耸耸肩说：
“那当然，这是不可避免的嘛。”
“对呀，”厄秀拉笑道。“他一下子就做了几代人的事。为这个，人们都恨他。他强抓住别人的脖领子拖着人家走。等到他把可能改进的都改进了，再也没有什么需要改进的时候，他就会立即死去。当然，他应该做这些。”
“当然，他应该做。”戈珍说，“说实在的，我还没见过象他这么显身手的人。不幸的是，他这样做会走向何方，后果是什么？”
“我知道，”厄秀拉说，“就是推行最新的机器呗！”
“太对了！”戈珍说。
“你知道他杀死了他的弟弟吗？”厄秀拉问。
“杀死他弟弟？”戈珍大叫着皱起了眉头，似乎她不同意这么说。
“你还不知道？是这样！我还以为你知道了呢。他和弟弟一起玩一支枪。他让弟弟低头看着装了子弹的枪筒，他开了枪，把他弟弟的头打破了，这太可怕了！”
“多么可怕！”戈珍叫道，“不过这是很久以前的事了吧？”
“对，当他们很小的时候。”厄秀拉说，“我觉得这是我所知道的最可怕的事儿。”
“他并不知道枪里上着子弹，对吗？”
“对，那是一支在马厩里藏了好多年的老枪了。没人知道它还会响，更没人知道它里面还上着子弹。可发生这样的事，真是吓死人啊！”
“活吓死人！”戈珍叫道，“同样可怕的是孩提时代出了这样的事，一生都要负疚，想想都害怕。想想这事儿，两个男孩子一起玩得好好的，不知为什么，这场祸从天而降。厄秀拉，这太可怕了！我受不了。要是谋杀还可以理解，因为那是有意的。可这种事发生在一个人身上，这——”
“或许真是有意的，它藏在潜意识中。”厄秀拉说，“这种漫不经心的杀戮中隐藏着一个原始的杀人欲，你说呢？”
“杀人欲！”戈珍冷漠、有点生硬地说。“我认为这连杀人都不算。我猜可能是这么回事：一个孩子说：‘你看着枪口，我拉一下板机，看看有什么情况。’我觉得这纯粹是偶然事故。”
“不，”厄秀拉说。“如果别人低头看枪口时，我是不会扣动板机的。人的本能使得人不会这样做，不会的。”
戈珍沉默了，但心里十分不服气。
“那当然，”她冷冷地说。“如果是个女人，是个成年女人，她的本能会阻止她这样做。可两个一起玩的男孩子就会这样。”
她既冷酷又生气。
“不会的，”厄秀拉坚持说。就在这时她们听到几码开外有个女人在大叫：
“哎呀，该死的东西！”她们走上前去，发现劳拉·克里奇和赫麦妮·罗迪斯在篱笆墙里，劳拉·克里奇使劲弄着门要出来。厄秀拉忙上前帮她打开门。
“谢谢您，”劳拉说着抬起头，脸红得象个悍妇，不解地说：“铰链掉了。”
“是的，”厄秀拉说，“这门也太沉了。”
“真奇怪！”劳拉大叫着。
“您好啊，”赫麦妮一开口便歌唱般地说。“天儿很好。你们来散步吗？好。这青枝绿叶美吗？太美了，太美了。早晨好——早晨好，你们会来看我吗？谢谢了，下星期，好，再见——再——见。”
戈珍和厄秀拉站着，见她缓缓地点头，缓缓地挥手告别。她故作微笑，浓密的头发滑到了眉际，看上去高大、奇怪、令人胆寒。然后姐妹两人走开了，似乎低人三分，让人家打发走了一样。四个女人就这样分别了。
她们走到比较远的地方时，厄秀拉红着脸说：
“我觉得她太没礼貌了。”
“谁？赫麦妮·罗迪斯？”戈珍问，“为什么？”
“她待人的态度，没礼貌！”
“怎么了，厄秀拉，她哪点没礼貌了？”戈珍有点冷漠地问。
“她的全部举止，哼，她想欺侮人，没礼貌。她就是欺侮人，这个无礼的女人。‘你们会来看我’，好象我们会爬在地上抢这份恩赐似的。”
“我不明白，厄秀拉，你这是生的什么气，”戈珍有点恼火地说，“那些女人才无礼——那些脱离了贵族阶层的女人。”
“可是这太庸俗了，多余。”厄秀拉叫道。
“不，我看不出来。如果我发现了这一点，我就不允许她对我无礼。”
“你认为她喜欢你吗？”厄秀拉问。
“哦，不，我不这么以为。”
“那她为什么请你去布莱德比作客？”
戈珍微微耸耸肩膀。
“反正她明白我们不是普通人。”戈珍说，“不管她怎样，她并不傻。我宁可同一个我痛恨的人在一起，也不同那些墨守成规的普通女人在一起。赫麦妮·罗迪斯在某些方面是敢于冒险的。”
厄秀拉回味了一会儿这句话。
“我怀疑这一点，”她回答，“她什么险也没冒。她竟能请我们这些教员去作客，这点倒值得我们敬佩，不过她这样做并不冒什么险。”
“太对了！”戈珍说，“想想吧，好多女人都不敢这样做呢。她最大限度地利用了她的特权，这就不错。我想，真的，如果我们处在她的位置上，我们也会这样做的。”
“才不呢，”厄秀拉说，“不，那会烦死我。我才不花时间做她这种游戏呢。那太失身份了。”
这姐妹两人象一把剪刀，谁从她们中间穿过都会被她们剪断；或者又象一把刀和一块磨刀石相互磨擦。
“当然，”厄秀拉突然叫道，“我们去看她那是她的福份。你十全十美得漂亮，比她漂亮一千倍，她过去和现在都无法跟你比。我还觉得你的衣着比她美一千倍。她从来没有象一朵花似地鲜艳、自然，总是那么老气横秋、老谋深算。而我们比大多数人都聪明。”
“一点不错！”戈珍说。
“这一点应该得到承认才是。”厄秀拉说。
“当然应该，”戈珍说，“不过，真正的美应该是绝对得平凡，就象街上的行人那么平凡。那样你才是人类的杰作，当然不是实际上的行人，应该是艺术创造出来的行人——”
“太好了！”厄秀拉叫道。
“当然啦，厄秀拉，是太好了。你无法超脱尘世，十足的朴实才是艺术创造出来的平凡。”
“打扮自己打扮不好可太没意思了。”厄秀拉笑道。
“太没意思了呗！”戈珍说。“真的，厄秀拉，这太没意思了，就这么回事。一个人希望自己能口若悬河，便学着高乃依①那样夸夸其谈。”
①高乃依（１６０６—８４），法国诗人与戏剧家，著有悲剧《熙德》等。
戈珍妙语连珠地说着，脸红了，心儿激动起来。
“而且高视阔步，”厄秀拉说，“人们总想象鹅群中的白天鹅一样高视阔步。”
“没错，”戈珍叫道，“鹅群中的白天鹅。”
“他们都忙着装扮成丑小鸭，”厄秀拉嘲讽地笑着说，“可我就不觉得自己是一只丑陋、可怜的小鸭子。我情不自禁地以为自己是鹅群中的白天鹅。人们让我这样看自己。我才不管他们怎么看我呢，爱怎么看怎么看。”
戈珍抬头看看厄秀拉，心里有点奇怪，说不出的妒忌与厌恶。
“当然，唯一可以做的就是不理睬他们，就这样。”她说。
姐妹二人又回家了，回去读书、谈天、做点活儿，一直到星期一又开始上课。厄秀拉常常弄不清除了学校一周中的始与终及假期的始与终以外，她还等待别的什么。这就是全部的生活啊！有时，当她似乎感到如果她的生活不是这样度过时，她就觉得可怕极了。但她并没有真地认命。她的精神生活很活跃，她的生活就象一棵幼芽，缓缓发育着但还未钻出地面。
收听单词发音 |
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drizzling
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| 下蒙蒙细雨，下毛毛雨( drizzle的现在分词 ) | |
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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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translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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walnut
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| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
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moored
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| adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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transit
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| n.经过，运输；vt.穿越，旋转；vi.越过 | |
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ripples
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| 逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
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translucency
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| 半透明，半透明物； 半透澈度 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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buoying
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| v.使浮起( buoy的现在分词 )；支持；为…设浮标；振奋…的精神 | |
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isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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mobility
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| n.可动性，变动性，情感不定 | |
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glamorous
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| adj.富有魅力的；美丽动人的；令人向往的 | |
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cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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stiffening
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| n. (使衣服等)变硬的材料, 硬化 动词stiffen的现在分词形式 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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emancipated
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| adj.被解放的，不受约束的v.解放某人（尤指摆脱政治、法律或社会的束缚）( emancipate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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myriads
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| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
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snipping
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| n.碎片v.剪( snip的现在分词 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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chic
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| n./adj.别致(的)，时髦(的)，讲究的 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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strut
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| v.肿胀，鼓起；大摇大摆地走；炫耀；支撑；撑开；n.高视阔步；支柱，撑杆 | |
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48
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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