Who can wonder that the laws of society should at times be forgotten by those whom the eye of society habitually1 overlooks, and whom the heart of society often appears to discard?
—Dr. John Simon, City Medical Report (1849)
I went, and knelt, and scooped2 my hand
As if to drink, into the brook3,
And a faint figure seemed to stand
Above me, with the bygone look.
—Hardy, “On a Midsummer Eve”
Two days passed during which Charles’s hammers lay idle in his rucksack. He banned from his mind thoughts of the tests lying waiting to be discovered: and thoughts, now associated with them, of women lying asleep on sunlit ledges4. But then, Ernestina having a migraine, he found himself unexpected-ly with another free afternoon. He hesitated a while; but the events that passed before his eyes as he stood at the bay window of his room were so few, so dull. The inn sign—a white lion with the face of an unfed Pekinese and a distinct resemblance, already remarked on by Charles, to Mrs. Poulteney—stared glumly5 up at him. There was little wind, little sunlight ... a high gray canopy6 of cloud, too high to threaten rain. He had intended to write letters, but he found himself not in the mood.
To tell the truth he was not really in the mood for anything; strangely there had come ragingly upon him the old travel-lust that he had believed himself to have grown out of those last years. He wished he might be in Cadiz, Naples, the Morea, in some blazing Mediterranean7 spring not only for the Mediterranean spring itself, but to be free, to have endless weeks of travel ahead of him, sailed-towards islands, moun-tains, the blue shadows of the unknown.
Half an hour later he was passing the Dairy and entering the woods of Ware8 Commons. He could have walked in some other direction? Yes, indeed he could. But he had sternly forbidden himself to go anywhere near the cliff-meadow; if he met Miss Woodruff, he would do, politely but firmly, what he ought to have done at that last meeting—that is, refuse to enter into conversation with her. In any case, it was evident that she resorted always to the same place. He felt sure that he would not meet her if he kept well clear of it.
Accordingly, long before he came there he turned north-ward, up the general slope of the land and through a vast grove9 of ivyclad ash trees. They were enormous, these trees, among the largest of the species in England, with exotic-looking colonies of polypody in their massive forks. It had been their size that had decided11 the encroaching gentleman to found his arboretum12 in the Undercliff; and Charles felt dwarfed13, pleasantly dwarfed as he made his way among them towards the almost vertical14 chalk faces he could see higher up the slope. He began to feel in a better humor, especially when the first beds of flint began to erupt from the dog’s mercury and arum that carpeted the ground. Almost at once he picked up a test of Echinocorys scutata. It was badly worn away ... a mere15 trace remained of one of the five sets of converging16 pinpricked lines that decorate the perfect shell. But it was better than nothing and thus encouraged, Charles began his bending, stopping search.
Gradually he worked his way up to the foot of the bluffs17 where the fallen flints were thickest, and the tests less likely to be corroded18 and abraded19. He kept at this level, moving westward20. In places the ivy10 was dense21—growing up the cliff face and the branches of the nearest trees indiscriminately, hanging in great ragged22 curtains over Charles’s head. In one place he had to push his way through a kind of tunnel of such foliage23; at the far end there was a clearing, where there had been a recent fall of flints. Such a place was most likely to yield tests; and Charles set himself to quarter the area, bounded on all sides by dense bramble thickets24, methodically. He had been at this task perhaps ten minutes, with no sound but the lowing of a calf25 from some distant field above and inland; the clapped wings and cooings of the wood pigeons; and the barely perceptible wash of the tranquil26 sea far through the trees below. He heard then a sound as of a falling stone. He looked, and saw nothing, and presumed that a flint had indeed dropped from the chalk face above. He searched on for another minute or two; and then, by one of those inexplicable27 intuitions, perhaps the last remnant of some faculty28 from our paleolithic past, knew he was not alone. He glanced sharply round.
She stood above him, where the tunnel of ivy ended, some forty yards away. He did not know how long she had been there; but he remembered that sound of two minutes before. For a moment he was almost frightened; it seemed uncanny that she should appear so silently. She was not wearing nailed boots, but she must even so have moved with great caution. To surprise him; therefore she had deliberately29 followed him.
“Miss Woodruff!” He raised his hat. “How come you here?”
“I saw you pass.”
He moved a little closer up the scree towards her. Again her bonnet30 was in her hand. Her hair, he noticed, was loose, as if she had been in wind; but there had been no wind. It gave her a kind of wildness, which the fixity of her stare at him aggravated31. He wondered why he had ever thought she was not indeed slightly crazed.
“You have something ... to communicate to me?”
Again that fixed32 stare, but not through him, very much down at him. Sarah had one of those peculiar33 female faces that vary very much in their attractiveness; in accordance with some subtle chemistry of angle, light, mood. She was dramatically helped at this moment by an oblique34 shaft35 of wan36 sunlight that had found its way through a small rift37 in the clouds, as not infrequently happens in a late English afternoon. It lit her face, her figure standing38 before the entombing greenery behind her; and her face was suddenly very beautiful, truly beautiful, exquisitely39 grave and yet full of an inner, as well as outer, light. Charles recalled that it was just so that a peasant near Gavarnie, in the Pyrenees, had claimed to have seen the Virgin40 Mary standing on a deboulis beside his road . . . only a few weeks before Charles once passed that way. He was taken to the place; it had been most insignificant41. But if such a figure as this had stood before him!
However, this figure evidently had a more banal42 mission. She delved43 into the pockets of her coat and presented to him, one in each hand, two excellent Micraster tests. He climbed close enough to distinguish them for what they were. Then he looked up in surprise at her unsmiling face. He remembered— he had talked briefly44 of paleontology, of the importance of sea urchins45, at Mrs. Poulteney’s that morning. Now he stared again at the two small objects in her hands.
“Will you not take them?”
She wore no gloves, and their fingers touched. He exam-ined the two tests; but he thought only of the touch of those cold fingers.
“I am most grateful. They are in excellent condition.”
“They are what you seek?”
“Yes indeed.”
“They were once marine46 shells?”
He hesitated, then pointed47 to the features of the better of the two tests: the mouth, the ambulacra, the anus. As he talked, and was listened to with a grave interest, his disappro-val evaporated. The girl’s appearance was strange; but her mind—as two or three questions she asked showed—was very far from deranged48. Finally he put the two tests carefully in his own pocket.
“It is most kind of you to have looked for them.”
“I had nothing better to do.”
“I was about to return. May I help you back to the path?”
But she did not move. “I wished also, Mr. Smithson, to thank you ... for your offer of assistance.”
“Since you refused it, you leave me the more grateful.”
There was a little pause. He moved up past her and parted the wall of ivy with his stick, for her to pass back. But she stood still, and still facing down the clearing.
“I should not have followed you.”
He wished he could see her face, but he could not.
“I think it is better if I leave.”
She said nothing, and he turned towards the ivy. But he could not resist a last look back at her. She was staring back over her shoulder at him, as if body disapproved50 of face and turned its back on such shamelessness; because her look, though it still suggested some of the old universal reproach, now held an intensity51 that was far more of appeal. Her eyes were anguished52 ... and anguishing53; an outrage54 in them, a weakness abominably55 raped56. They did not accuse Charles of the outrage, but of not seeing that it had taken place. A long moment of locked eyes; and then she spoke57 to the ground between them, her cheeks red.
“I have no one to turn to.”
“I hoped I had made it clear that Mrs. Tranter—“
“Has the kindest heart. But I do not need kindness.”
There was a silence. He still stood parting the ivy.
“I am told the vicar is an excellently sensible man.”
“It was he who introduced me to Mrs. Poulteney.”
Charles stood by the ivy, as if at a door. He avoided her eyes; sought, sought for an exit line.
“If I can speak on your behalf to Mrs. Tranter, I shall be most happy ... but it would be most improper58 of me to ...”
“Interest yourself further in my circumstances.”
“That is what I meant to convey, yes.” Her reaction was to look away; he had reprimanded her. Very slowly he let the downhanging strands60 of ivy fall back into position. “You haven’t reconsidered my suggestion—that you should leave this place?”
“If I went to London, I know what I should become.” He stiffened61 inwardly. “I should become what so many women who have lost their honor become in great cities.” Now she turned fully49 towards him. Her color deepened. “I should become what some already call me in Lyme.”
It was outrageous62, most unseemly. He murmured, “My dear Miss Woodruff . . .” His own cheeks were now red as well.
“I am weak. How should I not know it?” She added bitterly, “I have sinned.”
This new revelation, to a stranger, in such circumstances— it banished63 the good the attention to his little lecture on fossil sea urchins had done her in his eyes. But yet he felt the two tests in his pockets; some kind of hold she had on him; and a Charles in hiding from himself felt obscurely flattered, as a clergyman does whose advice is sought on a spiritual problem.
He stared down at the iron ferrule of his ashplant.
“Is this the fear that keeps you at Lyme?”
“In part.”
“That fact you told me the other day as you left. Is anyone else apprised64 of it?”
“If they knew, they would not have missed the opportunity of telling me.”
There was a longer silence. Moments like modulations come in human relationships: when what has been until then an objective situation, one perhaps described by the mind to itself in semiliterary terms, one it is sufficient merely to classify under some general heading (man with alcoholic65 problems, woman with unfortunate past, and so on) becomes subjective66; becomes unique; becomes, by empathy, instan-taneously shared rather than observed. Such a metamorphosis took place in Charles’s mind as he stared at the bowed head of the sinner before him. Like most of us when such mo-ments come—who has not been embraced by a drunk?—he sought for a hasty though diplomatic restoration of the status quo.
“I am most sorry for you. But I must confess I don’t understand why you should seek to ... as it were ... make me your confidant.”
She began then—as if the question had been expected—to speak rapidly; almost repeating a speech, a litany learned by heart.
“Because you have traveled. Because you are educated. Because you are a gentleman. Because ... because, I do not know, I live among people the world tells me are kind, pious67, Christian68 people. And they seem to me crueler than the cruelest heathens, stupider than the stupidest animals. I can-not believe that the truth is so. That life is without under-standing or compassion69. That there are not spirits generous enough to understand what I have suffered and why I suffer . . . and that, whatever sins I have committed, it is not right that I should suffer so much.” There was silence. Unprepared for this articulate account of her feelings, this proof, already suspected but not faced, of an intelligence beyond conven-tion, Charles said nothing. She turned away and went on in a quieter voice. “My only happiness is when I sleep. When I wake, the nightmare begins. I feel cast on a desert island, imprisoned70, condemned71, and I know not what crime it is for.”
Charles looked at her back in dismay, like a man about to be engulfed72 by a landslide73; as if he would run, but could not; would speak, but could not.
Her eyes were suddenly on his. “Why am I born what I am? Why am I not born Miss Freeman?” But the name no sooner passed her lips than she turned away, conscious that she had presumed too much.
“That question were better not asked.”
“I did not mean to ...”
“Envy is forgivable in your—“
“Not envy. Incomprehension.”
“It is beyond my powers—the powers of far wiser men than myself—to help you here.”
“I do not—I will not believe that.”
Charles had known women—frequently Ernestina herself— contradict him playfully. But that was in a playful context. A woman did not contradict a man’s opinion when he was being serious unless it were in carefully measured terms. Sarah seemed almost to assume some sort of equality of intellect with him; and in precisely74 the circumstances where she should have been most deferential75 if she wished to encompass76 her end. He felt insulted, he felt ... he could not say. The logical conclusion of his feelings should have been that he raised his hat with a cold finality and walked away in his stout77 nailed boots. But he stood where he was, as if he had taken root. Perhaps he had too fixed an idea of what a siren looked like and the circumstances in which she ap-peared—long tresses, a chaste78 alabaster79 nudity, a mermaid’s tail, matched by an Odysseus with a face acceptable in the best clubs. There were no Doric temples in the Undercliff; but here was a Calypso.
She murmured, “Now I have offended you.”
“You bewilder me, Miss Woodruff. I do not know what you can expect of me that I haven’t already offered to try to effect for you. But you must surely realize that any greater intimacy80 . . . however innocent in its intent . . . between us is quite impossible in my present circumstances.”
There was a silence; a woodpecker laughed in some green recess81, mocking those two static bipeds far below.
“Would I have ... thrown myself on your mercy in this way if I were not desperate?”
“I don’t doubt your despair. But at least concede the impossibility of your demand.” He added, “Whose exact nature I am still ignorant of.”
“I should like to tell you of what happened eighteen months ago.”
A silence. She looked to see his reaction. Again Charles stiffened. The invisible chains dropped, and his conventional side triumphed. He drew himself up, a monument to suspi-cious shock, rigidly82 disapproving83; yet in his eyes a something that searched hers ... an explanation, a motive84 ... he thought she was about to say more, and was on the point of turning through the ivy with no more word. But as if she divined his intention, she did, with a forestalling85 abruptness86, the most unexpected thing. She sank to her knees.
Charles was horrified87; he imagined what anyone who was secretly watching might think. He took a step back, as if to keep out of view. Strangely, she seemed calm. It was not the kneeling of a hysteric. Only the eyes were more intense: eyes without sun, bathed in an eternal moonlight.
“Miss Woodruff!”
“I beg you. I am not yet mad. But unless I am helped I shall be.”
“Control yourself. If we were seen ...”
“You are my last resource. You are not cruel, I know you are not cruel.”
He stared at her, glanced desperately88 round, then moved forward and made her stand, and led her, a stiff hand under her elbow, under the foliage of the ivy. She stood before him with her face in her hands; and Charles had, with the atrocious swiftness of the human heart when it attacks the human brain, to struggle not to touch her.
“I don’t wish to seem indifferent to your troubles. But you must see I have ... I have no choice.”
She spoke in a rapid, low voice. “All I ask is that you meet me once more. I will come here each afternoon. No one will see us.” He tried to expostulate, but she was not to be stopped. “You are kind, you understand what is beyond the understanding of any in Lyme. Let me finish. Two days ago I was nearly overcome by madness. I felt I had to see you, to speak to you. I know where you stay. I would have come there to ask for you, had not ... had not some last remnant of sanity89 mercifully stopped me at the door.”
“But this is unforgivable. Unless I mistake, you now threaten me with a scandal.”
She shook her head vehemently90. “I would rather die than you should think that of me. It is that ... I do not know how to say it, I seem driven by despair to contemplate91 these dreadful things. They fill me with horror at myself. I do not know where to turn, what to do, I have no one who can . . . please ... can you not understand?”
Charles’s one thought now was to escape from the appall-ing predicament he had been landed in; from those remorse-lessly sincere, those naked eyes.
“I must go. I am expected in Broad Street.”
“But you will come again?”
“I cannot—“
“I walk here each Monday, Wednesday, Friday. When I have no other duties.”
“What you are suggesting is—I must insist that Mrs. Tran-ter ...”
“I could not tell the truth before Mrs. Tranter.”
“Then it can hardly be fit for a total stranger—and not of your sex—to hear.”
“A total stranger . . . and one not of one’s sex ... is often the least prejudiced judge.”
“Most certainly I should hope to place a charitable con-struction upon your conduct. But I must repeat that I find myself amazed that you should ...”
But she was still looking up at him then; and his words tailed off into silence. Charles, as you will have noticed, had more than one vocabulary. With Sam in the morning, with Ernestina across a gay lunch, and here in the role of Alarmed Propriety92 ... he was almost three different men; and there will be others of him before we are finished. We may explain it biologically by Darwin’s phrase: cryptic93 color-ation, survival by learning to blend with one’s surroundings—with the unquestioned assumptions of one’s age or social caste. Or we can explain this flight to formality sociological-ly. When one was skating over so much thin ice—ubiquitous economic oppression, terror of sexuality, the flood of mechanistic science—the ability to close one’s eyes to one’s own absurd stiffness was essential. Very few Victorians chose to question the virtues94 of such cryptic coloration; but there was that in Sarah’s look which did. Though direct, it was a timid look. Yet behind it lay a very modern phrase: Come clean, Charles, come clean. It took the recipient95 off balance. Ernestina and her like behaved always as if habited in glass: infinitely96 fragile, even when they threw books of poetry. They encouraged the mask, the safe distance; and this girl, behind her facade97 of humility98 forbade it. He looked down in his turn.
“I ask but one hour of your time.”
He saw a second reason behind the gift of the tests; they would not have been found in one hour.
“If I should, albeit99 with the greatest reluctance—“
She divined, and interrupted in a low voice. “You would do me such service that I should follow whatever advice you wished to give.”
“It must certainly be that we do not continue to risk—“
Again she entered the little pause he left as he searched for the right formality. “That—I understand. And that you have far more pressing ties.”
The sun’s rays had disappeared after their one brief illumi-nation. The day drew to a chilly100 close. It was as if the road he walked, seemingly across a plain, became suddenly a brink101 over an abyss. He knew it as he stared at her bowed head. He could not say what had lured102 him on, what had gone wrong in his reading of the map, but both lost and lured he felt. Yet now committed to one more folly103.
She said, “I cannot find the words to thank you. I shall be here on the days I said.” Then, as if the clearing was her drawing room, “I must not detain you longer.”
Charles bowed, hesitated, one last poised104 look, then turned. A few seconds later he was breaking through the further curtain of ivy and stumbling on his downhill way, a good deal more like a startled roebuck than a worldly En-glish gentleman.
He came to the main path through the Undercliff and strode out back towards Lyme. An early owl59 called; but to Charles it seemed an afternoon singularly without wisdom. He should have taken a firmer line, should have left earlier, should have handed back the tests, should have suggested— no, commanded—other solutions to her despair. He felt outwitted, inclined almost to stop and wait for her. But his feet strode on all the faster.
He knew he was about to engage in the forbidden, or rather the forbidden was about to engage in him. The farther he moved from her, in time and distance, the more clearly he saw the folly of his behavior. It was as if, when she was before him, he had become blind: had not seen her for what she was, a woman most patently dangerous—not consciously so, but prey105 to intense emotional frustration106 and no doubt social resentment107.
Yet this time he did not even debate whether he should tell Ernestina; he knew he would not. He felt as ashamed as if he had, without warning her, stepped off the Cobb and set sail for China.
收听单词发音 |
1
habitually
|
|
| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
scooped
|
|
| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
brook
|
|
| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
ledges
|
|
| n.（墙壁，悬崖等）突出的狭长部分( ledge的名词复数 )；（平窄的）壁架；横档；（尤指）窗台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
glumly
|
|
| adv.忧郁地，闷闷不乐地；阴郁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
canopy
|
|
| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
Mediterranean
|
|
| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
ware
|
|
| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
grove
|
|
| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
ivy
|
|
| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
arboretum
|
|
| n.植物园 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
dwarfed
|
|
| vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
vertical
|
|
| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
converging
|
|
| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
bluffs
|
|
| 恐吓( bluff的名词复数 )； 悬崖； 峭壁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
corroded
|
|
| 已被腐蚀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
abraded
|
|
| adj.[医]刮擦的v.刮擦( abrade的过去式和过去分词 )；（在精神方面）折磨（人）；消磨（意志、精神等）；使精疲力尽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
westward
|
|
| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
thickets
|
|
| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
calf
|
|
| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
tranquil
|
|
| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
inexplicable
|
|
| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
faculty
|
|
| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
bonnet
|
|
| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
aggravated
|
|
| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
oblique
|
|
| adj.斜的，倾斜的，无诚意的，不坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
shaft
|
|
| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
wan
|
|
| (wide area network)广域网 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
rift
|
|
| n.裂口，隙缝，切口；v.裂开，割开，渗入 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
exquisitely
|
|
| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
virgin
|
|
| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
insignificant
|
|
| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
banal
|
|
| adj.陈腐的，平庸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
delved
|
|
| v.深入探究，钻研( delve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
urchins
|
|
| n.顽童( urchin的名词复数 )；淘气鬼；猬；海胆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
marine
|
|
| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
deranged
|
|
| adj.疯狂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
disapproved
|
|
| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
intensity
|
|
| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
anguished
|
|
| adj.极其痛苦的v.使极度痛苦(anguish的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
anguishing
|
|
| v.（尤指心理上的）极度的痛苦( anguish的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
outrage
|
|
| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
abominably
|
|
| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
raped
|
|
| v.以暴力夺取，强夺( rape的过去式和过去分词 )；强奸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
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： |
|
|
|
|
58
improper
|
|
| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
owl
|
|
| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
strands
|
|
| n.（线、绳、金属线、毛发等的）股( strand的名词复数 )；缕；海洋、湖或河的)岸；（观点、计划、故事等的）部份v.使滞留，使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
stiffened
|
|
| 加强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
outrageous
|
|
| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
banished
|
|
| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
apprised
|
|
| v.告知，通知( apprise的过去式和过去分词 )；评价 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
alcoholic
|
|
| adj.（含）酒精的，由酒精引起的；n.酗酒者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
subjective
|
|
| a.主观(上)的，个人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
pious
|
|
| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
imprisoned
|
|
| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
condemned
|
|
| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
engulfed
|
|
| v.吞没，包住( engulf的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
landslide
|
|
| n.(竞选中)压倒多数的选票；一面倒的胜利 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
deferential
|
|
| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
encompass
|
|
| vt.围绕，包围；包含，包括；完成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
chaste
|
|
| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
alabaster
|
|
| adj.雪白的；n.雪花石膏；条纹大理石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
intimacy
|
|
| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
recess
|
|
| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
rigidly
|
|
| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
disapproving
|
|
| adj.不满的，反对的v.不赞成( disapprove的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
forestalling
|
|
| v.先发制人，预先阻止( forestall的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
86
abruptness
|
|
| n. 突然，唐突 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
horrified
|
|
| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
desperately
|
|
| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
sanity
|
|
| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
vehemently
|
|
| adv. 热烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
contemplate
|
|
| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
propriety
|
|
| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
cryptic
|
|
| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
virtues
|
|
| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
recipient
|
|
| a.接受的,感受性强的 n.接受者,感受者,容器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
infinitely
|
|
| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
facade
|
|
| n.(建筑物的)正面，临街正面；外表 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
humility
|
|
| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
albeit
|
|
| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
chilly
|
|
| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
brink
|
|
| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
lured
|
|
| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
poised
|
|
| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
frustration
|
|
| n.挫折，失败，失效，落空 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |