“Out on the ocean it would go scudding6 by, all murky7 black and elfy white,” Ruth said. “The poor sailors on the good ship would see it, and know they were doomed8. A dreadful man stood at the helm, leering, and the wind shrieked9 and howled ... like that ...” and she stopped, a little pale, as the house trembled at a new and stronger rush of the gale10.
“Could the Flying Dutchman and his magic ship fly over the land to us here?” she asked Marmie, when they went to bed. But Marmie laughed, and told the two girls that even magic ships must stay on the water.
“It’s going to be a hard blow,” Marmie said, “but you mustn’t be frightened. The house is quite safe, and fortunately the boys have got the stock safely corralled. But they’ve had a job over it. Dad says he’s never had a harder time, and that he thought his horse and he would certainly be blown clean up to the moon before it was done.”
And blow it did all night. The girls kept waking up and hearing the sound of it, and their beds rocked, so that they thought they really might have blown out to sea, after all. Rose even got up to peer out of the window, but there, in the grey light, for the moon was shining through clouds, she saw the red roofs, snuggled under the hill; one of the cottonwood trees however, the biggest of all, lay flat.
So there was no going out to play. After lessons and dinner were over and Marmie had gone to see about putting things to rights, Rose and Ruth settled themselves in the living room. Rose was painting with her box of water colours, and Ruth sat looking into the fire, very quiet and rather drowsy14, for she hadn’t slept much through the wild night.
Though it was early in the afternoon the room 127was pretty dark, for the skies were black and grey, and the sleet13 pushed itself against the windows like a heavy curtain.
“What do you suppose I’m painting?” Rose asked her sister suddenly.
Ruth jumped. She must have been almost asleep.
“Are you going to be an artist when you grow up, Rose? If you are you can make pictures for my stories, because I’m going to be an author, and write wonderful books with fairies and heroines and wild robbers and splendid knights15 in them.”
“Yes, but what d’you think I’m painting now?” insisted Rose.
“A ship with the Flying Dutchman on it?”
“No.”
“Can I see and try to guess?”
“All right,” agreed Rose, apparently16 not troubled by the suggestion that her painting might be difficult to identify.
So Ruth came and leaned over the artist’s shoulder, and looked at the drawing on the big sheet of paper.
In the background was a large dark green tree that arched splendidly over the top of the picture. On the ground underneath17 were some flat-topped mushrooms, and seated on one of these was a little creature with a golden crown and flowing hair, dressed in a sort of rainbow coloured fuzzy looking 128garment, and carrying in one tiny hand a slender flower stalk topped by a white blossom.
“It’s the best picture you’ve ever made, Rose!”
Rose looked at it complacently20.
“Isn’t it nice? I meant the dress to look like mist, but I couldn’t, so I changed it to a rainbow. Well, what is it?”
“A fairy.”
“Of course—but what fairy?”
“So that’s what you think I look like,” remarked a chatty dewdrop-falling sort of voice.
Rose and Ruth whirled round and round like a couple of well spun22 tops. But nothing could they see except what was always to be seen, and in their excitement they didn’t even see that.
“Look, here I am, right beside my portrait,” laughed the voice.
Well, you can be sure they stared hard enough. Ruth thought she saw a slight glow, more like a light that was thinking of shining than one that had really begun its work. If you can imagine the shadow of a light, that is as like it as anything.“No, that’s not a very good picture of me,” the fairy said, evidently giving up the hope of making herself truly visible. “I’m not a fair fairy, not at all. That may account for the difficulty you have in seeing me. I’m the brunette of the family—and my edges are a trifle indeterminate—I never could see any reason for having an edge all round you. But never mind about me. What are we going to do, now I’m here? Shall we throw open that Magic Gate for another little adventure?”
Rose jumped up and down, stiff-legged with joy.
“What jolls! Oh, do take us to visit some little girl again.”
“Please,” begged Ruth, hugging herself breathless, as she did at times when stirred beyond control.
“I thought of taking you to see another child even lonelier than you two ever thought of being. She’s quite a way off—back in the seventeenth century, and in Devonshire, or Exmoor, if you prefer it—into the bargain. But we’ve a long rainy day before us.”
“Who is she, fairy?”
“Her name’s Lorna—Lorna Doone. I’ve told her to expect you, so perhaps we’d best be off at once.”
“Lorna,” gasped Ruth. “Oh, Rose, remember?”
Rose nodded. “We had her book last Christmas. Shall we see John Ridd, too?”
130“I shouldn’t wonder. And now give me your hands.”
Which of course they did, and had their little thrill of a fall as they shut their eyes, and opened them to find themselves standing24 beside a flowing brook25, with green forest trees bending overhead.
“Rose, Ruth—oh, I’m glad to see you,” called a very sweet voice, and as they turned toward it they saw a pretty girl with a great wave of dark hair falling over her shoulders, running toward them down a little slope. She was dressed in a straight cut gown of green velvet26, with fine white chemisette and sleeves of sheerest lawn. Her great eyes shone with pleasure, and her red lips were parted in excitement.
“And we, too, Lorna—dear Lorna,” they called back. They ran to meet her, and the three of them clasped hands halfway27 up the slope of soft grass, and then kissed rather shyly.
“Come to my bower28. We will have a lovely day. I have received permission to play here till evening, and there is a little luncheon29 laid out for us—but come.”
As usual, Rose and Ruth found they were dressed in the same style as their small hostess. Very fine and pretty they all looked, and very happy they felt in the clear sun and shadow under the mighty30 trees.
The bower was a lovely spot of twisted branches and rustic31 work, all overgrown with vines and flowers. Inside, on a table made of a thick section 131of some forest tree, smoothed and mounted on a sturdy wooden pillar, were set various goodies—a small meat pie, a tiny roast bird, bread, a jug32 of milk and preserved fruits.
Merrily they sat down to the picnic.
“Nay, but the trouble I had to fetch enough here for the three of us,” Lorna told them. “I got one of the lads to carry the basket with the bread and milk and bird, and the rest I carried myself, waiting till there was none to see me go.”
“They are most of them gone on a long ride,” Lorna returned, and she looked a little pale. Then her eyes filled with tears. “I fear they are gone on a bad errand,” she whispered.
Ruth threw affectionate arms about her, while Rose patted her shoulder.
“Never mind, Lorna dear. It is not your fault, and you are sweet and lovely. And perhaps you are mistaken this time.”
“When the Doones go riding harm is pretty sure to befall,” Lorna said, though she ceased to cry. “And now let us play.”
Play they did. Rose and Ruth taught their hostess several new games—games they played at home. One was tree-tag, and what a runner Lorna proved. With flying hair and laughing eyes she slipped beyond touch, rushing from tree to tree, uncatchable as a wood-sprite. How they laughed.
Time flew. Flew faster than they dreamed. Suddenly, as they sank in a shouting heap after 132a hop-skip-and-a-jump race, they heard a heavy step crunching34 the gravel35 by the brook, and the next instant a tall, dark man with gloomy and disturbed features stood before them.
Lorna sprang to her feet.
“How is this, Queen?” asked the man, roughly enough. “What little maids are these, and how came they here with you in the valley of the Doones?”
Lorna met the man’s eye highly, with no sign of fear. “These are my friends,” she said, “here under my protection. I know not how they came, but they mean no harm—surely I can be allowed a playmate once in a while. I will tell Sir Ensor if ye affright them—or harm them.”
“Well, come and tell him,” answered the man. “Come ye all,” and his fierce look swept the two other girls with a glance that sent a quick shiver through their veins36, “and we shall see how Sir Ensor takes the matter.”
He turned as he finished and strode off through the brush. Lorna gave her friends a somewhat tremulous smile.
“Dear me,” she whispered, all her fine show of courage gone, “I hope no harm will come to you. But truly I think not. Sir Ensor is kind when he wills to be, and we have but played together. They will take you beyond the gate and set you down on the moor23, and then you must find your way to some of the good folk of Exmoor. Perhaps”—she hesitated and then a sudden smile 133chased the fear from her face, leaving it clear and rosy37 as a wild flower—“perhaps you will even make your way to the Ridds, and see that good boy, John, with his gentle voice and kind eyes. He came here once, long ago, in the earliest of spring when the snow still patched the ground here and there, though primroses38 had begun to bloom in the forest. And I like him. I would like, too, to send him a word by you....” She stopped talking suddenly, darted39 into her bower, and fumbling40 in a corner, brought out a sheet of paper and a quill41 pen and ink. “Wait but a moment, I will write a few words to him and if you see him you will give him my letter. That will be good fun.”
Rose and Ruth thrilled with the excitement of it all. “I don’t care if they do set us down on the moor, Rose,” Ruth whispered. “It won’t be any wilder than the prairie, and we were never frightened there. But I wish we had our horses, and that Lorna could come with us.”
Rose nodded. “Isn’t she lovely? And if only we do find John——”
Lorna came running with a folded paper in her hand. “Here it is, just a greeting. Hide it, and hasten, for they will suspect something unless we go at once to Sir Ensor.”
So down the slope they raced, and reached the green bottom of the valley in no time at all. A lovely picture they made, the three sweet maids, flushed with their running, their eyes ashine with excitement. An elderly, tall, thin man watched 134them as they came toward him, and smiled, though his face did not look like one much given to smiling.
“Nay, fear nothing, children,” he called. And as they drew nearer, still somewhat fearfully, he asked them how they had got into the Doone valley.
“Our fairy brought us,” answered Rose. “I don’t know just how. You shut your eyes, and take her by the hand—and there you are.”
“How is this, Lorna?” asked the old man, and straight and active he looked for all his years, “Know you ought of a fairy?”
“Some fairy has found out how lonely I am here with no little maid for a playmate, and found a way to bring these friends hither,” Lorna said. “Oh, Sir Ensor, you will not have them harmed,” and with the words she began to cry and sob43.
“Hush, Lorna. No one shall hurt them. But they must go from here at once. Two of my boys are saddling now, and will take them out on the moor and leave them within walking distance of some of the good Exmoor folk.” Sir Ensor sneered44 a trifle over the end of his sentence. “I doubt that any of them would care to see my stout45 youths at too close range,” he concluded. Then, turning to Rose and Ruth, “You must have your eyes bound,” he said, sternly. “And do not come hither again, with or without this talk of fairies.”
135Lorna flashed a smile at them, and as her kinsman46 walked slowly away she threw her arms first round one and then the other of her new friends.
“We had a happy day—and now my letter is safe. They will take you close to the Ridd farm. And perhaps some day you will come back, or perhaps your fairy will take me to play with you.”
“Gee-whillikans, but that would be fine,” exclaimed Rose. “I wonder if she could? We would give you the time of your life, Lorna. And how you’d love riding our cow-ponies, wouldn’t she, Ruth?”
“And sitting by the fire telling stories,” added Ruth. “Oh, Lorna, we like you so much. What a pity you can’t come along now.”
Lorna shook her head. “They wouldn’t let me go—I’m their ‘queen,’ you know. But some day I will be big enough to have my own way, and then——” she smiled, tossed back her dark curls, and kissed the two sisters once more. At that moment two young men rode up on a pair of fine lively horses.
“Up with you, little maids,” they shouted, galloping47 close, and with a last look and wave of their hands, Rose and Ruth were swung up in front of their escorts, and large kerchiefs were tied before their eyes. Then the horses broke into a run, that carried the two girls swiftly away. They heard Lorna’s voice calling a last good-bye, and responded 136lustily, while the men laughed not unkindly.
Part of the way must have been very rough, for the horses struggled along slowly, and once the two men dismounted, leading their mounts, and asking the girls whether they could stay in the saddle. The indignation with which both replied that they certainly could do so, and that they weren’t afraid of any horse, greatly amused them.
“So, so—little spit-fires. Not afraid of any horse, eh? Nor afraid of any man, either?”
“Not of you, anyhow,” Ruth replied; “you are too nice and young and laughy to be cross.”
At that the two laughed harder than ever. And then there was more galloping, and suddenly a stop.
“Here we leave you to go the rest of the way afoot,” said the taller of the two men, whom the other called Jan. “Have a care the wolves do not devour49 you—they won’t be won over by your wiles50 and saucy51 ways.”
They plucked the bandage from the children’s eyes with the word, whirled their horses about, and were off at top speed.
Rose and Ruth exchanged a rather frightened glance.
It was the word “wolves” that had scared them. But they decided52 that the men had only been teasing them, and started bravely off in the direction opposite to that the riders were taking.
They had walked some time and began to feel 137tired, when Rose grabbed her sister suddenly by the arm.
“Look—look there,” she whispered, excitedly.
Ruth saw a moving object on the edge of the moor, and thought “wolf.” But the next moment both girls realised that it was another horseman. He drew near rapidly, and presently approached them. He was a big, handsome, jolly-looking man, and rode a beautiful strawberry-roan mare53, that looked both wild and gentle.
For a moment he sat in silence, looking down on them, while they stared up at him. Then he swung himself from the saddle, and patted his mare on her sleek54 shoulder.
“Isn’t she a beauty?” he remarked.
“I know who you are,” Ruth told him, still staring. “You’re Tom Faggus the highwayman, and this is Winnie, your wonderful strawberry mare. Oh, Mr. Tom, do take us to the Ridd ranch. We are so tired, and we don’t know how to get there.”
“So that’s the way of it. And how do you two little maids happen to be walking the moor alone at this hour?”
Whereupon they told him, and when he heard the Doone name he frowned.
“Lucky to get away at all,” he muttered. “But come, we’ll see whether Winnie will allow us all three to jog on together to Ridd’s house, where I’m sure we’ll find a welcome. How will it be, Winnie, my lady?”
138The mare turned her lovely head and looked softly at her master, whinnying a low response.
“Up with us, then,” he exclaimed. And swinging the two little girls aboard the gentle creature, he mounted himself, setting Ruth before him and Rose behind.
“And now Winnie shall do as she likes,” he said, and bending forward past Ruth he whispered a word or two. Winnie laid back her ears, and then started off with a motion so smooth and swift that both girls gasped in delight.
“To think of riding your beautiful horse, Mr. Highwayman,” Rose ejaculated. “Golly-winks, it seems too good to be true! Did you ever stop a stage?”
Tom laughed. “Surely you don’t think I’ll admit anything like that? Stop a stage? You wouldn’t care to ride with a man who’d do a thing like that, now, would you?”
“Oh, yes,” they both answered, earnestly. “Of course we would. You are a good highwayman, we know all about you.”
“How’s that? I don’t seem to know you two half as well.”
The girls tried to remember. But somehow they only felt hazily55 that they had heard a good deal about Tom Faggus.
“Perhaps the fairy told us.”
And now they were riding up to a house sunk 139a bit between the bare moor hills, with a high hedge running along one side, and trees beyond. A long, low house of stone, with thatched roof and overhanging eaves, and vines clambering up the walls. In the growing twilight57, with the lights shining from its windows, it looked delightfully58 homey and hospitable59. Men moved about in the yard, and as the mare reached the gate, a tall, handsome boy ran out.
“Is it you, Cousin Tom,” he cried eagerly.
“That it is. And here are two young maids with me whom I found lost on the heath.”
The boy looked curiously60 at the sisters, and as they started to slip to the ground he helped them, kindly48 if clumsily, to reach a footing.
“It’s John Ridd, isn’t it?” Rose spoke61, half shyly. He looked at once so young and so big one hardly knew how to take him.
“John it is,” Tom said, fondling his mare. “And where is your mother, John?”
She came from the house at the word, and welcomed Tom and his charges very prettily62. Hearing they had escaped from the Doones she shook her head sadly, and her eyes filled with tears, for she had cause enough to hate these robbers. John listened eagerly to the tale the girls told, when they were all in by the fire together, the mother getting supper and making things comfortable.
What a splendid big kitchen it was, with its raftered ceiling from which depended huge hams 140and flitches, and vari-coloured bunches of herbs. A great fire burned briskly at one end, a long table set with blue and white china stretched down the middle, with heavy wooden chairs about it. Snowy curtains fluttered at the small-paned windows, and a row of geraniums bloomed on each sill. Rose and Ruth thought they had never seen so inviting63 a room.
So there they sat, toasting their feet before the blaze, while they watched the spit that held a great roasting goose turn slowly round and round. John asked many slow questions concerning the Doones, but of Lorna he spoke no word.
“We love Lorna,” Ruth said of a sudden. “Don’t you love her, John?”
He looked at her startled.
“Why yes, I think I do. Who could help loving such a maid?” he replied. “But ’tis long since I saw her, and then only for a few minutes ... among primroses.” He smiled more shyly than seemed possible for so stout and huge a youth, who looked as though he were already a fit match for most men.
“Lorna has sent you a letter,” whispered Rose, drawing it from her pocket cautiously, for she felt that none but John should know of it.
“Lorna—a letter!” The boy flushed scarlet64, and took the folded sheet as though he feared to hurt it in his great hands. “Why, the sweet maiden65! What said she?”
“That she liked you—and hoped some time to 141see you once more,” Rose told him. “And I think—I seem to know somehow——” but here her faint memory failed her. She could not remember what happened to John and Lorna. But she knew she liked them both.
John tucked the letter carefully away in his coat unread. And it was a gay supper they all sat down to, when his mother called them to the table. Tom had some good stories to tell, adventures on long rides where he had met some who would have been as glad not to meet him. But it was plain to be seen that he harmed them not at all. They gave their money over without any fuss, as soon as he expressed a wish for it.
“Which is all the better for me,” laughed Tom. “For I would not kill any man, no, nor harm any, either. But how shall I refuse to take the fat purses they are so kind as to lay in my hands?”
“Tom, Tom, you will lie in a bloody66 grave, I fear,” sighed Madam Ridd. “But better men than you have done that.”
And they all knew she was thinking of her husband, killed by the Doones. And Rose, who sat beside her, laid her warm hand lovingly on the widow’s. She smiled at the caress67 ... Rose smiled back.... And suddenly felt a sort of blurr.... She clutched Mistress Ridd’s hand more firmly. There was a moment of darkness....
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
shriek
|
|
| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
shrieking
|
|
| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
ranch
|
|
| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
demon
|
|
| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
scudding
|
|
| n.刮面v.（尤指船、舰或云彩）笔直、高速而平稳地移动( scud的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
murky
|
|
| adj.黑暗的，朦胧的；adv.阴暗地，混浊地；n.阴暗；昏暗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
doomed
|
|
| 命定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
shrieked
|
|
| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
gale
|
|
| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
torrents
|
|
| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
sleety
|
|
| 雨夹雪的，下雨雪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
sleet
|
|
| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
drowsy
|
|
| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
knights
|
|
| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
underneath
|
|
| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
gasped
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
complacently
|
|
| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
chuckle
|
|
| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
spun
|
|
| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
moor
|
|
| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
brook
|
|
| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
halfway
|
|
| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
bower
|
|
| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
luncheon
|
|
| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
rustic
|
|
| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
jug
|
|
| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
enquired
|
|
| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
crunching
|
|
| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
gravel
|
|
| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
primroses
|
|
| n.报春花( primrose的名词复数 )；淡黄色；追求享乐（招至恶果） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
darted
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
fumbling
|
|
| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
quill
|
|
| n.羽毛管；v.给（织物或衣服）作皱褶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
chatter
|
|
| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
sob
|
|
| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
sneered
|
|
| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
kinsman
|
|
| n.男亲属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
galloping
|
|
| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
devour
|
|
| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
wiles
|
|
| n.（旨在欺骗或吸引人的）诡计，花招；欺骗，欺诈( wile的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
saucy
|
|
| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
mare
|
|
| n.母马，母驴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
sleek
|
|
| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
hazily
|
|
| ad. vaguely, not clear | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
delightfully
|
|
| 大喜，欣然 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
hospitable
|
|
| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
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： |
|
|
|
|
62
prettily
|
|
| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
inviting
|
|
| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
maiden
|
|
| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
bloody
|
|
| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
caress
|
|
| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
cosy
|
|
| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |