By some method known only to herself she had put herself upon a speaking-plane with Dufour, who, as she approached him, was standing2 in an angle of the wide wooden veranda4 waiting for the moon to rise over the distant peaks of the eastern mountains.
“I saw Mr. Tolliver to-day while whipping a brook5 down here,” said he, turning to look her squarely in the face.
“Oh, did you! Isn’t he a virile6, villainous, noble, and altogether melodramatic looking man? I wish there was some one here who could sketch7 him for me. But, say, Mr. Dufour, what do you mean, please, when you speak of whipping a brook?”
She took from her pocket a little red note-book and a pencil as he promptly8 responded: “Whipping a brook? oh, that’s angler’s nonsense, it means casting the line into the water, you know.”
“That’s funny,” she remarked, making a note.
She was taller than Dufour, and so slender and angular that in comparison with his excessive plumpness she looked gaunt and bony. In speaking her lips made all sorts of wild contortions9 showing her uneven10 teeth to great effect, and the extreme rapidity of her utterance11 gave an explosive emphasis to her voice. Over her forehead, which projected, a fluffy12 mass of pale[40] yellow hair sprang almost fiercely as if to attack her scared and receding13 chin.
“You are from Michigan, I believe, Miss Crabb,” remarked Dufour.
“Oh, dear, no!” she answered, growing red in the face, “No, indeed. I am from Indiana, from Ringville, associate editor of the Star.”
“Pardon, I meant Indiana. Of course I knew you were not from Michigan.”
“I usually do—a little late,” he remarked complacently15.
“Not precisely,” he said, with an approving laugh, “but I admit that I have some Bostonian qualities.”
At this point in the conversation she was drooping17 over him, so to say, and he was sturdily looking up into her bright, insistent18 face.
“What a group!” said Crane to Mrs. Bridges, a New York fashion editor. “I’d give the best farm in Kentucky (so far as my title goes) for a photograph of it! Doesn’t she appear to be just about to peck out his eyes!”
“Your lofty imagination plays you fantastic tricks,” said Mrs. Bridges. “Is she the famous Western lady reporter?”
“The same, of the Ringville Star. I met her at the Cincinnati convention. It was there[41] that Bascom of the Bugle19 called her a bag of gimlets, because she bored him so.”
“Oh!”
This exclamation20 was not in response to what Crane had said, but it was an involuntary tribute to the moon-flower just flaring21 into bloom between twin peaks lying dusky and heavy against the mist of silver and gold that veiled the sweet sky beyond. A semi-circle of pale straw-colored fire gleamed in the lowest angle of the notch22 and sent up long, wavering lines of light almost to the zenith, paling the strongest stars and intensifying23 the shadows in the mountain gorges25 and valleys. Grim as angry gods, the pines stood along the slopes, as if gloomily contemplating26 some dark scheme of vengeance27.
“A real Sapphic,” said Crane, dropping into a poetical28 tone, as an elocutionist does when he is hungry for an opportunity to recite a favorite sketch.
“Why a Sapphic?” inquired the matter-of-fact fashion-editor.
“Oh, don’t you remember that fragment, that glorious picture Sappho’s divine genius has made for us—”
He quoted some Greek.
“About as divine as Choctaw or Kickapoo,” she said. “I understand the moon-shine better. In fact I have a sincere contempt for all this transparent29 clap-trap you poets and critics indulge in when you got upon your Greek hobby. Divine Sappho, indeed! A lot of bald bits of[42] jargon30 made famous by the comments of fogies. Let’s look at the moon, please, and be sincere.”
“Sincere!”
“Yes, you know very well that if you had written the Sapphic fragments the critics would——”
“The critics! What of them? They are a set of disappointed poetasters themselves. Blind with rage at their own failures, they snap right and left without rhyme or reason. Now there’s Peck, a regular——”
“Well, sir, a regular what?” very coolly demanded the critic who had stepped forth31 from a shadowy angle and now stood facing Crane.
“A regular star-gazer,” said Mrs. Bridges. “Tell us why the planets yonder all look so ghastly through the shimmering32 moonlight.”
Peck, without reply, turned and walked away.
“Is he offended?” she asked.
“No, he gives offence, but can not take it.”
Mrs. Bridges grew silent.
“We were speaking of Sappho,” observed Crane, again gliding33 into an elocutionary mood. “I have translated the fragment that I repeated a while ago. Let me give it to you.
“When on the dusky violet sky
The full flower of the moon blooms high
The stars turn pale and die!”
Just then Miss Moyne, dressed all in white, floated by on Peck’s arm, uttering a silvery gust34 of laughter in response to a cynical35 observation of the critic.
[43]
“What a lovely girl she is,” said Mrs. Bridges. “Mr. Peck shows fine critical acumen36 in being very fond of her.”
Crane was desperately37 silent. “He’s a handsome man, too, and I suspect it’s a genuine love affair,” Mrs. Bridges went on, fanning herself complacently. Back and forth, walking slowly and conversing39 in a soft minor40 key, save when now and then Miss Moyne laughed melodiously41, the promenaders passed and repassed, Peck never deigning43 to glance toward Crane, who had forgotten both Sappho and the moon. Miss Moyne did, however, once or twice turn her eyes upon the silent poet.
“Oh,” went on Miss Crabb, filling Dufour’s ears with the hurried din3 of her words, “Oh, I’m going to write a novel about this place. I never saw a better chance for local color, real transcripts44 from life, original scenes and genuine romance all tumbled together. Don’t you think I might do it?”
“It does appear tempting,” said Dufour. “There’s Tolliver for instance, a genuine Chilhowee moonshiner.” He appeared to laugh inwardly as he spoke45. Indeed he heard the plash of water and the dripping, shivering mountaineer stood forth in his memory down there in the gorge24.
“A moonshiner!” gasped46 Miss Crabb, fluttering the leaves of her note-book and writing by moonlight with a celerity that amazed Dufour.
[44]
“Potentially, at least,” he replied evasively. “He looks like one and he don’t like water.”
“If he does turn out to be a real moonshiner,” Miss Crabb proceeded reflectively to say, “it will be just too delicious for anything. I don’t mind telling you, confidentially47, Mr. Dufour, that I am to write some letters while here to the Chicago Daily Lightning Express. So I’d take it as a great favor if you’d give me all the points you get.”
“That’s interesting,” he said, with a keen scrutiny48 of her face for a second. “I shall be glad to be of assistance to you.”
He made a movement to go, but lingered to say: “Pray give me all the points, too, will you?”
“Oh, are you a journalist too?” she inquired, breathlessly hanging over him. “What paper—”
“I’m not much of anything,” he hurriedly interposed, “but I like to know what is going on, that’s all.”
He walked away without further excuse and went up to his room.
“I’ve got to watch him,” soliloquized Miss Crabb, “or he’ll get the scoop49 of all the news. Give him points, indeed! Maybe so, but not till after I’ve sent them to the Lightning Express! I’ll keep even with him, or know the reason why.”
It was a grand panorama50 that the climbing moon lighted up all around Mount Boab, a vast billowy sea of gloom and sheen. Here were[45] shining cliffs, there dusky gulches51; yonder the pines glittered like steel-armed sentinels on the hill-tops, whilst lower down they appeared to skulk52 like cloaked assassins. Shadows came and went, now broad-winged and wavering, again slender and swift as the arrows of death. The hotel was bright within and without. Some one was at the grand piano in the hall making rich music—a fragment from Beethoven,—and a great horned owl38 down the ravine was booming an effective counterpoint.
Crane stood leaning on the railing of the veranda and scowling53 savagely54 as Peck and Miss Moyne continued to promenade42 and converse55. He was, without doubt, considering sinister56 things. Mrs. Bridges, finding him entirely57 unsympathetic, went to join Miss Crabb, who was alone where she had been left by Dufour. Meantime, up in his room, with his chair tilted58 far back and his feet thrust out over the sill of an open window, Dufour was smoking a fragrant59 Cuban cigar, (fifty cents at retail) and alternating smiles with frowns as he contemplated60 his surroundings.
“Authors,” he thought, “are the silliest, the vainest, and the most impractical61 lot of human geese that ever were plucked for their valuable feathers. And newspaper people! Humph!” He chuckled62 till his chin shook upon his immaculate collar. “Just the idea, now, of that young woman asking me to furnish her with points!”
There was something almost jocund63 blent with his air of solid self-possession, and he[46] smoked the precious cigars one after another with prodigal64 indifference65 and yet with the perfect grace of him to the manner born.
“Hotel Helicon on Mt. Boab!” he repeated, and then betook himself to bed.
点击收听单词发音
1 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
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2 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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3 din | |
n.喧闹声,嘈杂声 | |
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4 veranda | |
n.走廊;阳台 | |
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5 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
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6 virile | |
adj.男性的;有男性生殖力的;有男子气概的;强有力的 | |
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7 sketch | |
n.草图;梗概;素描;v.素描;概述 | |
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8 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
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9 contortions | |
n.扭歪,弯曲;扭曲,弄歪,歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
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10 uneven | |
adj.不平坦的,不规则的,不均匀的 | |
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11 utterance | |
n.用言语表达,话语,言语 | |
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12 fluffy | |
adj.有绒毛的,空洞的 | |
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13 receding | |
v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 );向后倾斜;自原处后退或避开别人的注视;尤指问题 | |
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14 shrug | |
v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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15 complacently | |
adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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16 glibly | |
adv.流利地,流畅地;满口 | |
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17 drooping | |
adj. 下垂的,无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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18 insistent | |
adj.迫切的,坚持的 | |
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19 bugle | |
n.军号,号角,喇叭;v.吹号,吹号召集 | |
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20 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
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21 flaring | |
a.火焰摇曳的,过份艳丽的 | |
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22 notch | |
n.(V字形)槽口,缺口,等级 | |
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23 intensifying | |
v.(使)增强, (使)加剧( intensify的现在分词 );增辉 | |
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24 gorge | |
n.咽喉,胃,暴食,山峡;v.塞饱,狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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25 gorges | |
n.山峡,峡谷( gorge的名词复数 );咽喉v.(用食物把自己)塞饱,填饱( gorge的第三人称单数 );作呕 | |
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26 contemplating | |
深思,细想,仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 ); 注视,凝视; 考虑接受(发生某事的可能性); 深思熟虑,沉思,苦思冥想 | |
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27 vengeance | |
n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
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28 poetical | |
adj.似诗人的;诗一般的;韵文的;富有诗意的 | |
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29 transparent | |
adj.明显的,无疑的;透明的 | |
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30 jargon | |
n.术语,行话 | |
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31 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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32 shimmering | |
v.闪闪发光,发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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33 gliding | |
v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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34 gust | |
n.阵风,突然一阵(雨、烟等),(感情的)迸发 | |
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35 cynical | |
adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的,不信世道向善的 | |
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36 acumen | |
n.敏锐,聪明 | |
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37 desperately | |
adv.极度渴望地,绝望地,孤注一掷地 | |
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38 owl | |
n.猫头鹰,枭 | |
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39 conversing | |
v.交谈,谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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40 minor | |
adj.较小(少)的,较次要的;n.辅修学科;vi.辅修 | |
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41 melodiously | |
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42 promenade | |
n./v.散步 | |
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43 deigning | |
v.屈尊,俯就( deign的现在分词 ) | |
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44 transcripts | |
n.抄本( transcript的名词复数 );转写本;文字本;副本 | |
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45 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 | |
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46 gasped | |
v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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47 confidentially | |
ad.秘密地,悄悄地 | |
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48 scrutiny | |
n.详细检查,仔细观察 | |
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49 scoop | |
n.铲子,舀取,独家新闻;v.汲取,舀取,抢先登出 | |
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50 panorama | |
n.全景,全景画,全景摄影,全景照片[装置] | |
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51 gulches | |
n.峡谷( gulch的名词复数 ) | |
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52 skulk | |
v.藏匿;潜行 | |
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53 scowling | |
怒视,生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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54 savagely | |
adv. 野蛮地,残酷地 | |
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55 converse | |
vi.谈话,谈天,闲聊;adv.相反的,相反 | |
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56 sinister | |
adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
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57 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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58 tilted | |
v. 倾斜的 | |
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59 fragrant | |
adj.芬香的,馥郁的,愉快的 | |
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60 contemplated | |
adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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61 impractical | |
adj.不现实的,不实用的,不切实际的 | |
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62 chuckled | |
轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63 jocund | |
adj.快乐的,高兴的 | |
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64 prodigal | |
adj.浪费的,挥霍的,放荡的 | |
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65 indifference | |
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
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