Here was Miss Nellie Wynn, the belle10 of Excelsior, calm, quiet, self-possessed, her chaste11 cambric skirts and dainty shoes as fresh as when she had left her father's house; but where was the woman of the brown duster, and where the yellow-dressed apparition12 of the woods? He was feebly repeating to himself his mental adjuration13 of a few hours before when he caught her eye, and was taken with a blush and a fit of coughing. Could he have been such an egregious14 fool, and was it not plainly written on his embarrassed face for her to read?
“Are we going down together?” asked Miss Nellie with an exceptionally gracious smile.
There was neither affectation nor coquetry in this advance. The girl had no idea of Brace's suspicion of her, nor did any uneasy desire to placate15 or deceive a possible rival of Low's prompt her graciousness. She simply wished to shake off in this encounter the already stale excitement of the past two hours, as she had shaken the dust of the woods from her clothes. It was characteristic of her irresponsible nature and transient susceptibilities that she actually enjoyed the relief of change; more than that, I fear, she looked upon this infidelity to a past dubious16 pleasure as a moral principle. A mild, open flirtation17 with a recognized man like Brace, after her secret passionate18 tryst19 with a nameless nomad20 like Low, was an ethical21 equipoise that seemed proper to one of her religious education.
Brace was only too happy to profit by Miss Nellie's condescension22; he at once secured the seat by her side, and spent the four hours and a half of their return journey to Excelsior in blissful but timid communion with her. If he did not dare to confess his past suspicions, he was equally afraid to venture upon the boldness he had premeditated a few hours before. He was therefore obliged to take a middle course of slightly egotistical narration23 of his own personal adventures, with which he beguiled24 the young girl's ear. This he only departed from once, to describe to her a valuable grizzly25 bearskin which he had seen that day for sale at Indian Spring, with a view to divining her possible acceptance of it for a “buggy robe;” and once to comment upon a ring which she had inadvertently disclosed in pulling off her glove.
“It's only an old family keepsake,” she added, with easy mendacity; and affecting to recognize in Mr. Brace's curiosity a not unnatural26 excuse for toying with her charming fingers, she hid them in chaste and virginal seclusion27 in her lap, until she could recover the ring and resume her glove.
A week passed—a week of peculiar28 and desiccating heat for even those dry Sierra table-lands. The long days were filled with impalpable dust and acrid29 haze30 suspended in the motionless air; the nights were breathless and dewless; the cold wind which usually swept down from the snow line was laid to sleep over a dark monotonous31 level, whose horizon was pricked32 with the eating fires of burning forest crests33. The lagging coach of Indian Spring drove up at Excelsior, and precipitated34 its passengers with an accompanying cloud of dust before the Excelsior Hotel. As they emerged from the coach, Mr. Brace, standing35 in the doorway, closely scanned their begrimed and almost unrecognizable faces. They were the usual type of travelers: a single professional man in dusty black, a few traders in tweeds and flannels36, a sprinkling of miners in red and gray shirts, a Chinaman, a negro, and a Mexican packer or muleteer. This latter for a moment mingled37 with the crowd in the bar-room, and even penetrated38 the corridor and dining-room of the hotel, as if impelled39 by a certain semi-civilized curiosity, and then strolled with a lazy, dragging step—half impeded40 by the enormous leather leggings, chains, and spurs, peculiar to his class—down the main street. The darkness was gathering41, but the muleteer indulged in the same childish scrutiny42 of the dimly lighted shops, magazines, and saloons, and even of the occasional groups of citizens at the street corners. Apparently43 young, as far as the outlines of his figure could be seen, he seemed to show even more than the usual concern of masculine Excelsior in the charms of womankind. The few female figures about at that hour, or visible at window or veranda44, received his marked attention; he respectfully followed the two auburn-haired daughters of Deacon Johnson on their way to choir45 meeting to the door of the church. Not content with that act of discreet46 gallantry, after they had entered he managed to slip unperceived behind them.
The memorial of the Excelsior gamblers' generosity47 was a modern building, large and pretentious48, for even Mr. Wynn's popularity, and had been good-humoredly known, in the characteristic language of the generous donors49, as one of the “biggest religious bluffs” on record. Its groined rafters, which were so new and spicy50 that they still suggested their native forest aisles51, seldom covered more than a hundred devotees, and in the rambling52 choir, with its bare space for the future organ, the few choristers, gathered round a small harmonium, were lost in the deepening shadow of that summer evening. The muleteer remained hidden in the obscurity of the vestibule. After a few moments' desultory53 conversation, in which it appeared that the unexpected absence of Miss Nellie Wynn, their leader, would prevent their practicing, the choristers withdrew. The stranger, who had listened eagerly, drew back in the darkness as they passed out, and remained for a few moments a vague and motionless figure in the silent church. Then coming cautiously to the window, the flapping broad-brimmed hat was put aside, and the faint light of the dying day shone in the black eyes of Teresa! Despite her face, darkened with dye and disfigured with dust, the matted hair piled and twisted around her head, the strange dress and boyish figure, one swift glance from under her raised lashes54 betrayed her identity.
She turned aside mechanically into the first pew, picked up and opened a hymn-book. Her eyes became riveted55 on a name written on the title-page, “Nellie Wynn.” HER name, and HER book. The instinct that had guided her here was right; the slight gossip of her fellow-passengers was right; this was the clergyman's daughter, whose praise filled all mouths. This was the unknown girl the stranger was seeking, but who in turn perhaps had been seeking Low—the girl who absorbed his fancy—the secret of his absences, his preoccupation, his coldness! This was the girl whom to see, perhaps in his arms, she was now periling56 her liberty and her life unknown to him! A slight odor, some faint perfume of its owner, came from the book; it was the same she had noticed in the dress Low had given her. She flung the volume to the ground, and, throwing her arms over the back of the pew before her, buried her face in her hands.
In that light and attitude she might have seemed some rapt acolyte57 abandoned to self-communion. But whatever yearning58 her soul might have had for higher sympathy or deeper consolation59, I fear that the spiritual Tabernacle of Excelsior and the Reverend Mr. Wynn did not meet that requirement. She only felt the dry, oven-like heat of that vast shell, empty of sentiment and beauty, hollow in its pretense60 and dreary61 in its desolation. She only saw in it a chief altar for the glorification62 of this girl who had absorbed even the pure worship of her companion, and converted and degraded his sublime63 paganism to her petty creed64. With a woman's withering65 contempt for her own art displayed in another woman, she thought how she herself could have touched him with the peace that the majesty66 of their woodland aisles—so unlike this pillared sham—had taught her own passionate heart, had she but dared. Mingling67 with this imperfect theology, she felt she could have proved to him also that a brunette and a woman of her experience was better than an immature68 blonde. She began to loathe69 herself for coming hither, and dreaded70 to meet his face. Here a sudden thought struck her. What if he had not come here? What if she had been mistaken? What if her rash interpretation71 of his absence from the wood that night was simple madness? What if he should return—if he had already returned? She rose to her feet, whitening yet joyful72 with the thought. She could return at once; what was the girl to her now? Yet there was time to satisfy herself if he were at HER house. She had been told where it was; she could find it in the dark; an open door or window would betray some sign or sound of the occupants. She rose, replaced her hat over her eyes, knotted her flaunting73 scarf around her throat, groped her way to the door, and glided74 into the outer darkness.
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1 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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2 trenches | |
深沟,地沟( trench的名词复数 ); 战壕 | |
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3 obliterated | |
v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 );涂去;擦掉;彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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4 feline | |
adj.猫科的 | |
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5 demureness | |
n.demure(拘谨的,端庄的)的变形 | |
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6 ostentation | |
n.夸耀,卖弄 | |
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7 jack | |
n.插座,千斤顶,男人;v.抬起,提醒,扛举;n.(Jake)杰克 | |
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8 brace | |
n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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9 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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10 belle | |
n.靓女 | |
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11 chaste | |
adj.贞洁的;有道德的;善良的;简朴的 | |
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12 apparition | |
n.幽灵,神奇的现象 | |
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13 adjuration | |
n.祈求,命令 | |
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14 egregious | |
adj.非常的,过分的 | |
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15 placate | |
v.抚慰,平息(愤怒) | |
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16 dubious | |
adj.怀疑的,无把握的;有问题的,靠不住的 | |
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17 flirtation | |
n.调情,调戏,挑逗 | |
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18 passionate | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,激昂的,易动情的,易怒的,性情暴躁的 | |
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19 tryst | |
n.约会;v.与…幽会 | |
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20 nomad | |
n.游牧部落的人,流浪者,游牧民 | |
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21 ethical | |
adj.伦理的,道德的,合乎道德的 | |
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22 condescension | |
n.自以为高人一等,贬低(别人) | |
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23 narration | |
n.讲述,叙述;故事;记叙体 | |
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24 beguiled | |
v.欺骗( beguile的过去式和过去分词 );使陶醉;使高兴;消磨(时间等) | |
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25 grizzly | |
adj.略为灰色的,呈灰色的;n.灰色大熊 | |
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26 unnatural | |
adj.不自然的;反常的 | |
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27 seclusion | |
n.隐遁,隔离 | |
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28 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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29 acrid | |
adj.辛辣的,尖刻的,刻薄的 | |
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30 haze | |
n.霾,烟雾;懵懂,迷糊;vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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31 monotonous | |
adj.单调的,一成不变的,使人厌倦的 | |
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32 pricked | |
刺,扎,戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 ); 刺伤; 刺痛; 使剧痛 | |
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33 crests | |
v.到达山顶(或浪峰)( crest的第三人称单数 );到达洪峰,达到顶点 | |
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34 precipitated | |
v.(突如其来地)使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 );促成;猛然摔下;使沉淀 | |
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35 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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36 flannels | |
法兰绒男裤; 法兰绒( flannel的名词复数 ) | |
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37 mingled | |
混合,混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 ); 混进,与…交往[联系] | |
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38 penetrated | |
adj. 击穿的,鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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39 impelled | |
v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40 impeded | |
阻碍,妨碍,阻止( impede的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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42 scrutiny | |
n.详细检查,仔细观察 | |
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43 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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44 veranda | |
n.走廊;阳台 | |
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45 choir | |
n.唱诗班,唱诗班的席位,合唱团,舞蹈团;v.合唱 | |
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46 discreet | |
adj.(言行)谨慎的;慎重的;有判断力的 | |
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47 generosity | |
n.大度,慷慨,慷慨的行为 | |
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48 pretentious | |
adj.自命不凡的,自负的,炫耀的 | |
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49 donors | |
n.捐赠者( donor的名词复数 );献血者;捐血者;器官捐献者 | |
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50 spicy | |
adj.加香料的;辛辣的,有风味的 | |
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51 aisles | |
n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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52 rambling | |
adj.[建]凌乱的,杂乱的 | |
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53 desultory | |
adj.散漫的,无方法的 | |
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54 lashes | |
n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 );鞭子;突然猛烈的一击;急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
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55 riveted | |
铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 ); 把…固定住; 吸引; 引起某人的注意 | |
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56 periling | |
置…于危险中(peril的现在分词形式) | |
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57 acolyte | |
n.助手,侍僧 | |
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58 yearning | |
a.渴望的;向往的;怀念的 | |
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59 consolation | |
n.安慰,慰问 | |
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60 pretense | |
n.矫饰,做作,借口 | |
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61 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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62 glorification | |
n.赞颂 | |
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63 sublime | |
adj.崇高的,伟大的;极度的,不顾后果的 | |
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64 creed | |
n.信条;信念,纲领 | |
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65 withering | |
使人畏缩的,使人害羞的,使人难堪的 | |
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66 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
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67 mingling | |
adj.混合的 | |
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68 immature | |
adj.未成熟的,发育未全的,未充分发展的 | |
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69 loathe | |
v.厌恶,嫌恶 | |
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70 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) | |
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71 interpretation | |
n.解释,说明,描述;艺术处理 | |
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72 joyful | |
adj.欢乐的,令人欢欣的 | |
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73 flaunting | |
adj.招摇的,扬扬得意的,夸耀的v.炫耀,夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 );有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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74 glided | |
v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
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