This imprudent admission set Caroline in open rebellion; she wanted to jump from the carriage, fully1 determined2 to walk back to the place where she had met M. de Villemer.
Peyraque dissuaded3 her from this; but finally had to yield and return, in spite of the ever-increasing danger and the difficulties of a still slower progress over the half-league they had so painfully traversed since losing sight of the Marquis.
It was in vain for them to search by simply looking for him. In one hour the snow in large, spreading flakes4 had buried up the ground and its ruggedness5. It was impossible for them to tell whether they had not passed by the place they wanted to explore. Caroline uttered groans6, inaudible to herself, finding no words at her command but the faint outcry, "My God, my God!" Peyraque no longer strove to quiet her, and only encouraged her by telling her to look carefully.
Suddenly the horse stopped. "It must be we have found the road again here," said Peyraque. "Mignon remembers."
"Then we have come too far," replied Caroline.
"But we have met no one," returned Peyraque. "This gentleman, seeing the storm coming on, has gone back to Laussonne, and we, who are nearer Estables, are running a great risk in staying here, unless it stops snowing. I give you warning."
"Go on, go on, Peyraque!" cried Caroline, leaping into the snow. "For my part, I shall stay here till I find him."
Peyraque made no reply. He alighted and began searching, but without the least hope. There was already half a foot of snow, and the wind, drifting it into every hollow, would soon bury up a corpse7.
Caroline walked on at random8, gliding9 forward like a spirit, so great was her excitement. She was already at some little distance from the carriage when she heard the horse snort loudly as he put down his head. She thought he was dying, and, watching him with real distress10, saw him scenting11 out something in front of him in a strange way. It was a revelation; she darted12 forward and perceived a gloved hand, apparently13 belonging to one dead, which the breath of the horse, melting the snow over it, had brought to light. The body extended beneath was the obstacle which the animal had refused to tread under foot. Peyraque came running at Caroline's call, and, extricating14 M. de Villemer, put him in the carriage, where Mlle de Saint-Geneix held him up and tried to warm him in her arms.
Peyraque took the bridle15 and walked on again in the direction of Mézenc. He knew perfectly16 there was not a moment to lose, but went on without knowing where to set foot; and he soon disappeared in a ravine which he was unable to clear. The horse stopped of his own accord; Peyraque got up again, but, on trying to make him back, found the wheels caught in some unseen obstacle. Besides, the horse was at the end of his strength. Peyraque treated him harshly, but all to no purpose; he struck his pony17 for the first time in his life; he pulled on the bridle till the creature's mouth bled. The poor animal turned upon him with a glance of almost human intelligence, as if to say, "I have done all I could; I can do nothing more to save you."
"Must we then perish here?" said Peyraque, disheartened, as he watched the snow falling in inexorable whirls. The plateau had become a Siberian waste, beyond which Mézenc alone showed his livid head between the gusts18 of wind. Not a tree, not a roof, not a rock for shelter. Peyraque knew there was nothing to be done.
"Let us hope," said he, which, in these Southern forms of speech, simply means, "Let us wait."
It soon occurred to him, however, that he would gain the next fifteen minutes, even if they should be the last of life. He took a small board from his little carriage, and fought with the drifting snow, which threatened to bury up both horse and vehicle. Incessantly19 for ten minutes he worked like a wrestler20 at this task of clearing away, saying to himself that perhaps it was all useless, but that he would defend himself and Caroline to the last breath.
At the expiration21 of the ten minutes he thanked God the snow grew lighter22; the wind abated23; the fog, which was far less dangerous, strove to reappear. He slackened his work without giving it over. At last he saw something like a pale streak24 of light breaking through the depths of the sky; it was a promise of fair weather.
So far he had not spoken a word or uttered an oath. If Caroline had been fated to perish there, she would not have suspected it till the last moment. Yet he looked at her and found her so pale and her glance so wild that he was alarmed.
"Well, well!" said he, "what is the trouble? There is no more danger; this will be nothing."
"O, nothing, is it?" she replied, with a bitter smile, pointing to Urbain, stretched out on the seat of the little vehicle, his face livid with the cold, his large eyes wide open and glazed25, like those of a corpse.
Peyraque looked around him again. It was hopeless to expect human aid. He sprang into the carriage, seized M. de Villemer firmly in his arms, rubbed him vigorously, bruised26 him in his iron hands, trying to impart to him the warmth of his own old blood reanimated by exercise and a strong will; but it was all in vain. With the effects of the cold were united those of a nervous crisis peculiar27 to the organization of the Marquis.
"He is not dead, though," said Peyraque. "I feel that; I am sure of it. If I only had something to make a fire with! But I can't make one of stones."
"We might burn the carriage, at all events," cried Caroline.
"That is an idea,—yes, but after that?"
"After that perhaps the Lord will send help. Don't you see the first thing is to prevent death from laying hold of us here?"
Peyraque saw Caroline so pale and the blue lines so defined under her eyes that he began to think she felt herself dying also. He hesitated no longer, but risked all to save all. He unharnessed the pony, which, like the horses of the Cossacks, at once rolled in the snow to rest himself. Taking the awning28 from his carriage and placing it on the ground, Peyraque carried M. de Villemer, still frozen and motionless, to it; then, drawing from his boxes a few handfuls of hay, some old papers, and fragments of matting, he put the whole under the vehicle and struck fire with the flint and steel with which he was accustomed to light his pipe. Breaking up with his farrier's tools the boards and planks29 of his poor little carriage, he succeeded in a few moments in kindling30 them into a blaze and into brands. He demolished31 and broke in pieces as fast as the fire burned. The snow no longer fell, and M. de Villemer, lying within a semicircle of blazing wreck32, began to gaze in a stupor33 at the strange scene, which he took for a dream.
"He is saved, saved! Do you hear, Peyraque?" cried Caroline, who saw the Marquis making an attempt to rise. "A hundred blessings34 on your head! You have saved him!"
The Marquis heard Caroline's voice close by him, but, still thinking it some hallucination, made no effort to look at her. He did not comprehend what was taking place till he felt on his hands the distracted pressure of Caroline's lips. Then he thought he must be dying, as she no longer avoided him, and, trying to smile, he bade her adieu in a faint voice.
"No, no; not adieu!" she replied, covering his forehead with kisses; "you must live. I will have it so! I love you!"
A slight flush came over the livid face, but no words could express his joy. The Marquis still feared it might be all a dream; yet he was plainly reviving. The warmth had concentrated under the carriage-top which served him as a shelter. He was as comfortable as he could possibly be made there, lying on the cloaks of Caroline and Peyraque.
"But we must go on, nevertheless," thought the latter, and his unquiet eyes questioned the brightening horizon. The cold was severe, the fire was going out for want of fuel, and the invalid36 surely could not walk to Estables. And was Caroline herself equal to such an attempt? To mount them both on the horse was the only expedient37; but would the exhausted38 animal have strength to carry them? No matter, it would have to be tried; and, first of all, they must give the horse some oats. Peyraque looked, but found none; the fire had consumed the little bag as well as the box in which it was stored.
An exclamation39 from Caroline revived his hopes. She showed him a light vapor40 on the rising ground which sheltered them. He ran in that direction, and saw below him an ox-cart, painfully approaching, the driver smoking in order to keep warm.
"You see now," said Caroline, when the cart had nearly reached them, "the Lord has helped us!"
M. de Villemer was still so weak that he had to be lifted into the cart, which, fortunately, was loaded with straw; and in this Peyraque buried him up, after a fashion. Caroline placed herself near him. Peyraque bestrode his pony, leaving the wreck of his poor carriage behind, and in an hour they had finally reached the village of Estables.
Peyraque went disdainfully by the inn of a certain giantess with bare legs and a golden necklace, a veritable tardigrade of peculiar repulsiveness41. He knew the Marquis would find no zealous42 attention there. He conducted him, to the house of a peasant whom he knew. The people crowded around the invalid, overwhelming him with questions, and friendly proffers43 which he did not understand. Peyraque, with an air of authority, dismissed all who could be of no service, gave his orders, and went to work himself. In a few minutes the fire was blazing, and hot wine was foaming44 in the kettle. M. de Villemer, stretched on a thick bed of straw and dry turf, saw Caroline on her knees beside him, busily engaged in protecting his clothes from the fire and caring for him with a mother's tenderness. She was uneasy about the terrible drink which Peyraque was brewing45 for him with strong spices; but the Marquis had confidence in the experience of the mountaineer. He made a sign that he would obey him, and Caroline, with trembling hand, put the cup to his lips. He was soon able to speak, thank his new hosts, and tell Peyraque, pressing his hand warmly, that he would like to be alone with him and Caroline.
It was no easy thing to induce the family to forsake46 their own roof for several hours. Places of shelter are rare under this inclement47 sky, and the flocks, the sole dependence48 of the Cévenois, are lodged49 in a way to leave no room for the inhabitants. Those living here, in particular, have a reputation for rudeness and lack of hospitality which dates from the murder of the mathematician50 sent by Cassini to measure the height of Mézenc, and who was taken for a sorcerer. They have greatly improved, and now show themselves more civil; but their habits of life are those of the lowest poverty, and yet they are given to trading, raise magnificent cattle, and are as well provided as possible with commodities for barter51. Still, the severity of the climate and the isolation52 of their rough dwelling-place have passed into their dispositions53 as well as into their blood.
The room which, with the stable, comprised the whole interior of the house, was given up at last to Peyraque and his friends. It was quite small, and hardly richer than the Celtic grotto54 of the old woman at Espaly. The smoke poured out partly through the chimney and partly, also, through a gaping55 hole in the wall on one side. Two beds, shaped like boxes, gave lodgings56 at night, in some incomprehensible way, to a family of six persons. The bare rock formed the floor; and on one side the cows, goats, sheep, and hens took their comfort.
Peyraque spread clean straw around everywhere, brought in a supply of wood, rummaged57 in the cupboard, found some bread, and urged Caroline to eat and rest. The Marquis, with a look, begged her to think of herself, for she dared not leave him a minute, and still held his hands in hers. He wanted to speak; he was able to speak now, and yet he was afraid to say a word. He feared she would go away from him as soon as she saw he knew himself beloved; and then Peyraque puzzled him cruelly. He did not comprehend in the least the part played by this rustic58 Providence59 which, in its watch over Caroline, had shown itself so obstinate60 and so merciless toward him; but which was now beginning to regard him with unbounded solicitude61 and devotion. At last Peyraque went out. He could not forget his poor horse,—his faithful companion,—which he blamed himself for having treated so brutally62, and which, on his arrival, he had been forced to intrust to the care of strangers.
"Caroline," said the Marquis, having seated himself on a stool, and still leaning on her arm, "I had many things to tell you, but I have not my reason,—no, really, I have n't the use of it, and I'm afraid to talk in my delirium63. Forgive me, I am so happy,—happy to see you, to feel you near me, now I have come back again from the verge64 of death. But I cannot trouble you any more. Heavens! what a burden I have been on your life! It shall be so no longer; this is only an accident,—a foolish, imprudent act on my part; but how could I consent to lose you again? You do not know, you never will know,—no, you have no idea, you don't comprehend what you are to me; and perhaps you don't care ever to comprehend it! To-morrow, perhaps, you will shun65 me again. And why, pray? Here, read!" he added, searching for and then handing her the crumpled66 page of the letter begun at Lantriac that very morning; "it maybe illegible67 now; the rain and the snow—"
"No," said Caroline, leaning toward the fire, "I can see, I read perfectly, and—I understand. I knew before. I guessed; and I accept. It was the wish of my heart,—the dream of my life. My heart and my life, do they not both belong to you?"
"Don't tire yourself by talking, trying to convince me," said Caroline, with something imperious in her warmth. "I believe in you, but not in my own destiny. Well! I accept it, such as you make it for me. Good or ill, it shall be dear to me, since I can accept no other. Now listen, listen to me! Perhaps I have only an instant to tell you this in. I don't know what events your conscience and mine will have to meet; I know your mother to be inexorable. I have felt the chill of her contempt; and we have nothing to hope from God if we break her heart. We must submit, then, and that forever. You yourself have said that to form any scheme of being happy upon the loss of a mother is placing the dream of happiness among the most criminal of thoughts, and such happiness would be under the ban of a hundred curses; we ourselves should curse it in our hearts."
"Why do you remind me of all this?" asked the Marquis, sorrowfully; "do you think I have forgotten? But you believe a change in my mother to be impossible; and I see from this that you would not have me try to bring it about, and that pity alone—"
"You see nothing at all," cried Caroline, putting her hand on his mouth; "you see nothing, if you don't see that I love you."
"O Heaven!" said the Marquis, sinking to her feet; "say that again! It seems like a dream. This is the first time you have said it. I have thought I divined it, but I dare not believe it now. Tell me so again,—tell me, and then let me die!"
"Yes; I love you more than my own life," she replied, pressing to her heart the noble brow, seat of a soul so brave and true; "I love you more than my pride, more than my pride of womanhood. I have denied it to myself this long time; I have denied it in my prayers to God, and I lied to God and to myself! At last I understood, and I fled through a cowardly weakness. I felt all was lost, and so it is. Well, what matters it, after all? It only involves myself. While I cherished the hope of learning to forget, I could struggle; but you love me too well,—I see that now,—and you will die, if I forsake you. I thought you were dead a few hours ago, and then I saw clearly into our lives; I had killed you! I might have saved you,—you, the noblest and best of beings,—but I made you the victim of my vain self-respect. And what am I to let you die so, when all that is not your regard is nothing to me? No, no! I have resisted long enough. I have been proud enough, cruel enough, and you have suffered too much from my wrong-doing. I love you, do you hear? I will not become your wife, because that would be to plunge69 you into bitter remorse70, into a woe71 beyond remedy; but I will be your friend, your servant, a mother to your child, your faithful companion. The purity of our lives may be misunderstood; I shall be mistaken for Didier's actual mother perhaps. Well, I consent even to that. I accept the scorn I have dreaded72; and it seems to me drinking of this cup, poured out by you, will give me a new life."
"O noble heart! as pure as heaven!" cried the Marquis. "I accept, for my part, this divine sacrifice. Pray do not scorn me for that! You make me feel worthy73 of it, and I will soon put an end to it. Yes, yes! I shall work miracles. I feel strong enough now. My mother will yield without a regret. In my heart I feel now the faith and the power that shall persuade her to it. But even if the whole world should rise up to condemn74 you,—do you see?—you, my sister and my daughter, my pure-minded companion, my dearest friend,—you will only stand the higher in my regard. I shall only be more and more proud of you. What is the world, what is public opinion, to a man who has penetrated75 the social life of past ages and that of the present as well, fathoming76 the mysteries of their selfishness and the nothingness of their deceit? Such a man knows full well that, at all times, by the side of one poor truth which floats safely, a thousand truths go under with the mark of infamy77 upon them. He well knows that the best and most unselfish spirits have walked in the footprints of their Lord, on a thorny78 path, where wounds and insults fall like rain. Well, we will walk there, if need be; love will keep us from feeling these base attacks. Yes, I can answer for that, at least, and this is what I can swear in defiance79 of all threats from that destiny the world would make for us: you shall be loved, and you shall be happy! You knew me well, cruel one, shutting your eyes as you ran away. You knew perfectly that my whole life, my whole soul is love and nothing else. You knew perfectly that, if I have sometimes been eager in pursuit of truth, it was from love of her alone; and not for the vain glory of proclaiming her in person. I am not myself a scholar; I am not an author. I am an unknown soldier, who, of my own free will, avoid the noise and smoke of the conflict, fighting unsupported and in the background, not through lack of courage, but that my mother and brother may not be wounded in the struggle. I have accepted this obscure position without a pang80 to my vanity. I felt that my heart stood in need, not of praise, but of love. All the ambition of my fellows, all their immoderate vanities, their thirst for power, their needs of luxury, their continual hunger for notoriety,—what did all these matter to me? I could not be amused with toys like these. I was myself only a poor, single-hearted man, enamored of an ideal,—an ingenuous81 child, if you will, seeking love and feeling it alive within him long before meeting her who was to develop its power. I kept silence, knowing I should have to bear raillery,—a thing indifferent, as far as I am concerned personally, but one which would have pained me as an outrage82 to my inmost, sacred religion. Once, only once in my life,—I should like to tell you this, Caroline,—I have loved—"
"Don't tell me!" cried she, "I don't want to know."
"Nevertheless, you ought to know all. She was good and gentle, and, in recalling her, I can without an effort respect and bless her in her tomb; but she could not love me. It was the fault of her destiny, and not her own. There is not a reproach in my heart for her; there are many for myself. I have hated myself bitterly, and done heavy penance83 for having yielded to a passion which was never encouraged or really shared. I was only reconciled to life when I saw life blooming into its fairest and purest form in you. I then understood why I was born in tears, why I had been fated to love, and condemned84 to love too early,—with sorrow, and in sin,—because I sought the one dream and aim of my life too eagerly. And now I feel restored forever and saved. I feel that my character will regain85 its balance, my youth its hopes, my heart its natural sustenance86. Have faith in me,—you whom Heaven has sent me! You know for a certainty that we are made for each other. You have felt a thousand times, in spite of yourself that we had but one mind and one thought; that we loved the same principles, the same art, the same names, the same people, and the same things without influencing each other, except to strengthen and develop what was already there,—to make the germs of our deepest feelings bud and blossom. Do you remember, Caroline, do you remember Séval? And our sunny hours in the valley? And the hours of delicious coolness beneath the arches of the library, where, with lovely vases of flowers, you paid festive87 honors to this deep, mysterious union of our souls? Was it not an indissoluble marriage which our hands consecrated88 every morning in their pure touch of greeting! Did not our first glance every single day give us to each other, and that for all time? And can all this be lost utterly89, flown forever? Did you yourself believe for one instant that this man could live without you, deprived of air and sunlight,—that he would consent to fall back into darkness again? No, no! you never believed it. He would have followed you to the end of the earth; he would have gone through fire and water and ice to rejoin you. And if you had left me to die in the snow to-day, can't you feel that my spirit set free would have still, like a desperate spectre, pursued you through the mountain storm?"
"Listen to him, just listen!" said Caroline to Peyraque, who had come in and was stupidly looking at the Marquis, now seemingly transfigured by passion; "hear what he says, and do not wonder if I love him better than myself. Do not be frightened, do not worry, do not go away, pitying us. Stay with us and see how happy we are. The presence of a good old man like you will not trouble us. Perhaps you will not understand us,—you who would listen to nothing beyond a certain duty, which I understood yesterday, but no longer admit to-day; yet, against your will even, you will love me again and give me your blessing35, for you will feel the rightful authority of this man, who is more to me than all other men, and to whom God has given only the words of truth. Yes, I love him.—I love you, you whom I came near losing to-day, and I will never leave you again. I will follow you everywhere; your child shall be mine, as your country is my country, your faith my faith. There is no higher honor in this world, there is no other virtue90 before God, than loving you, serving you, and comforting you."
M. de Villemer stood there, radiant with a pure joy, which dazzled Caroline, but did not frighten her. In this hour of enthusiasm there was not even the memory of a trouble. He pressed her to his heart with that sacred paternal91 feeling which belonged to his nature, and which arose from an instinctive92 idea of protection,—the rightful authority of a high intelligence over a noble heart, of a superior mind over another mind raised by its love to the same level.
They did not ask themselves whether this lofty rapture93 would endure always. It must be said, to their praise, that they felt the infinite tenderness of friendship,—enthusiastic, it is true, but deep and sincere,—rather than any other intoxication94; and that the aim of their future was, at this moment, defined and summed up in their minds in this one resolution,—never to forsake each other.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
dissuaded
|
|
| 劝（某人）勿做某事，劝阻( dissuade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
flakes
|
|
| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
ruggedness
|
|
| 险峻，粗野； 耐久性； 坚固性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
groans
|
|
| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
corpse
|
|
| n.尸体，死尸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
random
|
|
| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
gliding
|
|
| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
scenting
|
|
| vt.闻到（scent的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
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： |
|
|
|
|
13
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
extricating
|
|
| v.使摆脱困难，脱身( extricate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
bridle
|
|
| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
pony
|
|
| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
gusts
|
|
| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
incessantly
|
|
| ad.不停地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
wrestler
|
|
| n.摔角选手，扭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
expiration
|
|
| n.终结，期满，呼气，呼出物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
abated
|
|
| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
streak
|
|
| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
glazed
|
|
| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
bruised
|
|
| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
awning
|
|
| n.遮阳篷；雨篷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
planks
|
|
| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
kindling
|
|
| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
demolished
|
|
| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
wreck
|
|
| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
stupor
|
|
| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
blessings
|
|
| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
blessing
|
|
| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
invalid
|
|
| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
expedient
|
|
| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
exclamation
|
|
| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
vapor
|
|
| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
repulsiveness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
zealous
|
|
| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
proffers
|
|
| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
44
foaming
|
|
| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
brewing
|
|
| n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
forsake
|
|
| vt.遗弃，抛弃；舍弃，放弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
inclement
|
|
| adj.严酷的，严厉的，恶劣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
dependence
|
|
| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
lodged
|
|
| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
mathematician
|
|
| n.数学家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
barter
|
|
| n.物物交换，以货易货，实物交易 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
isolation
|
|
| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
dispositions
|
|
| 安排( disposition的名词复数 )； 倾向； （财产、金钱的）处置； 气质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
grotto
|
|
| n.洞穴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
gaping
|
|
| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
lodgings
|
|
| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
rummaged
|
|
| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
rustic
|
|
| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
obstinate
|
|
| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
solicitude
|
|
| n.焦虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
brutally
|
|
| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
delirium
|
|
| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
verge
|
|
| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
shun
|
|
| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
crumpled
|
|
| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
illegible
|
|
| adj.难以辨认的，字迹模糊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
plunge
|
|
| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
remorse
|
|
| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
woe
|
|
| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
dreaded
|
|
| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
condemn
|
|
| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
fathoming
|
|
| 测量 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
infamy
|
|
| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
thorny
|
|
| adj.多刺的，棘手的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
defiance
|
|
| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
pang
|
|
| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
ingenuous
|
|
| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
outrage
|
|
| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
penance
|
|
| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
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： |
|
|
|
|
85
regain
|
|
| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
sustenance
|
|
| n.食物，粮食；生活资料；生计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
festive
|
|
| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
consecrated
|
|
| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
paternal
|
|
| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
instinctive
|
|
| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
rapture
|
|
| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
intoxication
|
|
| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |