Equally unprecedented13 and extravagant15 was the realization16 of the discovery in Mulrady's shaft. It was alleged17 that a company, hastily formed in Sacramento, paid him a million of dollars down, leaving him still a controlling two-thirds interest in the mine. With an obstinacy18, however, that amounted almost to a moral conviction, he refused to include the house and potato-patch in the property. When the company had yielded the point, he declined, with equal tenacity19, to part with it to outside speculators on even the most extravagant offers. In vain Mrs. Mulrady protested; in vain she pointed20 out to him that the retention21 of the evidence of his former humble22 occupation was a green blot23 upon their social escutcheon.
"It's the only thing I ever made myself, and got out of the soil with my own hands; it's the beginning of my fortune, and it may be the end of it. Mebbee I'll be glad enough to have it to come back to some day, and be thankful for the square meal I can dig out of it."
By repeated pressure, however, Mulrady yielded the compromise that a portion of it should be made into a vineyard and flower-garden, and by a suitable coloring of ornament25 and luxury obliterate26 its vulgar part. Less successful, however, was that energetic woman in another effort to mitigate27 the austerities of their earlier state. It occurred to her to utilize28 the softer accents of Don Caesar in the pronunciation of their family name, and privately29 had "Mulrade" take the place of Mulrady on her visiting card. "It might be Spanish," she argued with her husband. "Lawyer Cole says most American names are corrupted30, and how do you know that yours ain't?" Mulrady, who would not swear that his ancestors came from Ireland to the Carolinas in '98, was helpless to refute the assertion. But the terrible Nemesis31 of an un-Spanish, American provincial32 speech avenged33 the orthographical34 outrage35 at once. When Mrs. Mulrady began to be addressed orally, as well as by letter, as "Mrs. Mulraid," and when simple amatory effusions to her daughter rhymed with "lovely maid," she promptly36 refused the original vowel37. But she fondly clung to the Spanish courtesy which transformed her husband's baptismal name, and usually spoke38 of him—in his absence—as "Don Alvino." But in the presence of his short, square figure, his orange tawny39 hair, his twinkling gray eyes, and retrousse nose, even that dominant40 woman withheld41 his title. It was currently reported at Red Dog that a distinguished42 foreigner had one day approached Mulrady with the formula, "I believe I have the honor of addressing Don Alvino Mulrady?" "You kin11 bet your boots, stranger, that's me," had returned that simple hidalgo.
Although Mrs. Mulrady would have preferred that Mamie should remain at Sacramento until she could join her, preparatory to a trip to "the States" and Europe, she yielded to her daughter's desire to astonish Rough-and-Ready, before she left, with her new wardrobe, and unfold in the parent nest the delicate and painted wings with which she was to fly from them forever. "I don't want them to remember me afterwards in those spotted43 prints, ma, and like as not say I never had a decent frock until I went away." There was something so like the daughter of her mother in this delicate foresight44 that the touched and gratified parent kissed her, and assented. The result was gratifying beyond her expectation. In that few weeks' sojourn45 at Sacramento, the young girl seemed to have adapted and assimilated herself to the latest modes of fashion with even more than the usual American girl's pliancy46 and taste. Equal to all emergencies of style and material, she seemed to supply, from some hitherto unknown quality she possessed47, the grace and manner peculiar48 to each. Untrammeled by tradition, education, or precedent14, she had the Western girl's confidence in all things being possible, which made them so often probable. Mr. Mulrady looked at his daughter with mingled49 sentiments of pride and awe50. Was it possible that this delicate creature, so superior to him that he seemed like a degenerate51 scion52 of her remoter race, was his own flesh and blood? Was she the daughter of her mother, who even in her remembered youth was never equipped like this? If the thought brought no pleasure to his simple, loving nature, it at least spared him the pain of what might have seemed ingratitude53 in one more akin10 to himself. "The fact is, we ain't quite up to her style," was his explanation and apology. A vague belief that in another and a better world than this he might approximate and understand this perfection somewhat soothed54 and sustained him.
It was quite consistent, therefore, that the embroidered55 cambric dress which Mamie Mulrady wore one summer afternoon on the hillside at Los Gatos, while to the critical feminine eye at once artistic56 and expensive, should not seem incongruous to her surroundings or to herself in the eyes of a general audience. It certainly did not seem so to one pair of frank, humorous ones that glanced at her from time to time, as their owner, a young fellow of five-and-twenty, walked at her side. He was the new editor of the "Rough-and-Ready Record," and, having been her fellow-passenger from Sacramento, had already once or twice availed himself of her father's invitation to call upon them. Mrs. Mulrady had not discouraged this mild flirtation57. Whether she wished to disconcert Don Caesar for some occult purpose, or whether, like the rest of her sex, she had an overweening confidence in the unheroic, unseductive, and purely58 platonic59 character of masculine humor, did not appear.
"When I say I'm sorry you are going to leave us, Miss Mulrady," said the young fellow, lightly, "you will comprehend my unselfishness, since I frankly60 admit your departure would be a positive relief to me as an editor and a man. The pressure in the Poet's Corner of the 'Record' since it was mistakingly discovered that a person of your name might be induced to seek the 'glade61' and 'shade' without being 'afraid,' 'dismayed,' or 'betrayed,' has been something enormous, and, unfortunately, I am debarred from rejecting anything, on the just ground that I am myself an interested admirer."
"It's dreadful to be placarded around the country by one's own full name, isn't it?" said Mamie, without, however, expressing much horror in her face.
"They think it much more respectful than to call you 'Mamie,'" he responded, lightly; "and many of your admirers are middle-aged62 men, with a mediaeval style of compliment. I've discovered that amatory versifying wasn't entirely63 a youthful passion. Colonel Cash is about as fatal with a couplet as with a double-barreled gun, and scatters64 as terribly. Judge Butts65 and Dr. Wilson have both discerned the resemblance of your gifts to those of Venus, and their own to Apollo. But don't undervalue those tributes, Miss Mulrady," he added, more seriously. "You'll have thousands of admirers where you are going; but you'll be willing to admit in the end, I think, that none were more honest and respectful than your subjects at Rough-and-Ready and Red Dog." He stopped, and added in a graver tone, "Does Don Caesar write poetry?"
"He has something better to do," said the young lady, pertly.
"I can easily imagine that," he returned, mischievously67; "it must be a pallid68 substitute for other opportunities."
"What did you come here for?" she asked, suddenly.
"To see you."
"Nonsense! You know what I mean. Why did you ever leave Sacramento to come here? I should think it would suit you so much better than this place."
"I suppose I was fired by your father's example, and wished to find a gold mine."
"Men like you never do," she said, simply.
"Is that a compliment, Miss Mulrady?"
"I don't know. But I think that you think that it is."
He gave her the pleased look of one who had unexpectedly found a sympathetic intelligence. "Do I? This is interesting. Let's sit down." In their desultory69 rambling70 they had reached, quite unconsciously, the large boulder71 at the roadside. Mamie hesitated a moment, looked up and down the road, and then, with an already opulent indifference72 to the damaging of her spotless skirt, sat herself upon it, with her furled parasol held by her two little hands thrown over her half-drawn-up knee. The young editor, half sitting, half leaning, against the stone, began to draw figures in the sand with his cane73.
"On the contrary, Miss Mulrady, I hope to make some money here. You are leaving Rough-and-Ready because you are rich. We are coming to it because we are poor."
"We?" echoed Mamie, lazily, looking up the road.
"Yes. My father and two sisters."
"I am sorry. I might have known them if I hadn't been going away." At the same moment, it flashed across her mind that, if they were like the man before her, they might prove disagreeably independent and critical. "Is your father in business?" she asked.
He shook his head. After a pause, he said, punctuating75 his sentences with the point of his stick in the soft dust, "He is paralyzed, and out of his mind, Miss Mulrady. I came to California to seek him, as all news of him ceased three years since; and I found him only two weeks ago, alone, friendless—an unrecognized pauper76 in the county hospital."
"Two weeks ago? That was when I went to Sacramento."
"Very probably."
"It must have been very shocking to you?"
"It was."
"I should think you'd feel real bad?"
"I do, at times." He smiled, and laid his stick on the stone. "You now see, Miss Mulrady, how necessary to me is this good fortune that you don't think me worthy77 of. Meantime I must try to make a home for them at Rough-and-Ready."
Miss Mulrady put down her knee and her parasol. "We mustn't stay here much longer, you know."
"Why?"
"Why, the stage-coach comes by at about this time."
"And you think the passengers will observe us sitting here?"
"Of course they will."
He was leaning over her with such apparent earnestness of voice and gesture that the color came into her cheek. For a moment she scarcely dared to lift her conscious eyes to his. When she did so, she suddenly glanced her own aside with a flash of anger. He was laughing.
"If you have any pity for me, do not leave me now," he repeated. "Stay a moment longer, and my fortune is made. The passengers will report us all over Red Dog as engaged. I shall be supposed to be in your father's secrets, and shall be sought after as a director of all the new companies. The 'Record' will double its circulation; poetry will drop out of its columns, advertising79 rush to fill its place, and I shall receive five dollars a week more salary, if not seven and a half. Never mind the consequences to yourself at such a moment. I assure you there will be none. You can deny it the next day—I will deny it—nay, more, the 'Record' itself will deny it in an extra edition of one thousand copies, at ten cents each. Linger a moment longer, Miss Mulrady. Fly, oh fly not yet. They're coming—hark! oh! By Jove, it's only Don Caesar!"
It was, indeed, only the young scion of the house of Alvarado, blue-eyed, sallow-skinned, and high-shouldered, coming towards them on a fiery80, half-broken mustang, whose very spontaneous lawlessness seemed to accentuate81 and bring out the grave and decorous ease of his rider. Even in his burlesque82 preoccupation the editor of the "Record" did not withhold83 his admiration84 of this perfect horsemanship. Mamie, who, in her wounded amour propre, would like to have made much of it to annoy her companion, was thus estopped any ostentatious compliment.
Don Caesar lifted his hat with sweet seriousness to the lady, with grave courtesy to the gentleman. While the lower half of this Centaur85 was apparently86 quivering with fury, and stamping the ground in his evident desire to charge upon the pair, the upper half, with natural dignity, looked from the one to the other, as if to leave the privilege of an explanation with them. But Mamie was too wise, and her companion too indifferent, to offer one. A slight shade passed over Don Caesar's face. To complicate87 the situation at that moment, the expected stagecoach88 came rattling89 by. With quick feminine intuition, Mamie caught in the faces of the driver and the expressman, and reflected in the mischievous66 eyes of her companion, a peculiar interpretation90 of their meeting, that was not removed by the whispered assurance of the editor that the passengers were anxiously looking back "to see the shooting."
"You know Mr. Slinn, of the 'Record," said Mamie, "don't you?"
Don Caesar had never before met the Senor Esslinn. He was under the impression that it was a Senor Robinson that was of the "Record."
"Oh, HE was shot," said Slinn. "I'm taking his place."
"Bueno! To be shot too? I trust not."
Slinn looked quickly and sharply into Don Caesar's grave face. He seemed to be incapable92 of any double meaning. However, as he had no serious reason for awakening93 Don Caesar's jealousy94, and very little desire to become an embarrassing third in this conversation, and possibly a burden to the young lady, he proceeded to take his leave of her. From a sudden feminine revulsion of sympathy, or from some unintelligible95 instinct of diplomacy96, Mamie said, as she extended her hand, "I hope you'll find a home for your family near here. Mamma wants pa to let our old house. Perhaps it might suit you, if not too far from your work. You might speak to ma about it."
"Thank you; I will," responded the young man, pressing her hand with unaffected cordiality.
Don Caesar watched him until he had disappeared behind the wayside buckeyes.
"He is a man of family—this one—your countryman?"
It seemed strange to her to have a mere97 acquaintance spoken of as "her countryman"—not the first time nor the last time in her career. As there appeared no trace or sign of jealousy in her questioner's manner, she answered briefly98 but vaguely99:
"Yes; it's a shocking story. His father disappeared some years ago, and he has just found him—a helpless paralytic—in the Sacramento Hospital. He'll have to support him—and they're very poor."
"So, then, they are not independent of each other always—these fathers and children of Americans!"
"No," said Mamie, shortly. Without knowing why, she felt inclined to resent Don Caesar's manner. His serious gravity—gentle and high-bred as it was, undoubtedly—was somewhat trying to her at times, and seemed even more so after Slinn's irreverent humor. She picked up her parasol, a little impatiently, as if to go.
But Don Caesar had already dismounted, and tied his horse to a tree with a strong lariat100 that hung at his saddle-bow.
"Let us walk through the woods towards your home. I can return alone for the horse when you shall dismiss me."
They turned in among the pines that, overcrowding the hollow, crept partly up the side of the hill of Mulrady's shaft. A disused trail, almost hidden by the waxen-hued yerba buena, led from the highway, and finally lost itself in the undergrowth. It was a lovers' walk; they were lovers, evidently, and yet the man was too self-poised in his gravity, the young woman too conscious and critical, to suggest an absorbing or oblivious passion.
"I should not have made myself so obtrusive101 to-day before your friend," said Don Caesar, with proud humility102, "but I could not understand from your mother whether you were alone or whether my company was desirable. It is of this I have now to speak, Mamie. Lately your mother has seemed strange to me; avoiding any reference to our affection; treating it lightly, and even as to-day, I fancy, putting obstacles in the way of our meeting alone. She was disappointed at your return from Sacramento where, I have been told, she intended you to remain until you left the country; and since your return I have seen you but twice. I may be wrong. Perhaps I do not comprehend the American mother; I have—who knows?—perhaps offended in some point of etiquette103, omitted some ceremony that was her due. But when you told me, Mamie, that it was not necessary to speak to HER first, that it was not the American fashion—"
Mamie started, and blushed slightly.
"Yes," she said hurriedly, "certainly; but ma has been quite queer of late, and she may think—you know—that since—since there has been so much property to dispose of, she ought to have been consulted."
"Then let us consult her at once, dear child! And as to the property, in Heaven's name, let her dispose of it as she will. Saints forbid that an Alvarado should ever interfere104. And what is it to us, my little one? Enough that Dona Mameta Alvarado will never have less state than the richest bride that ever came to Los Gatos."
Mamie had not forgotten that, scarcely a month ago, even had she loved the man before her no more than she did at present, she would still have been thrilled with delight at these words! Even now she was moved—conscious as she had become that the "state" of a bride of the Alvarados was not all she had imagined, and that the bare adobe105 court of Los Gatos was open to the sky and the free criticism of Sacramento capitalists!
"Yes, dear," she murmured with a half childlike pleasure, that lit up her face and eyes so innocently that it stopped any minute investigation106 into its origin and real meaning. "Yes, dear; but we need not have a fuss made about it at present, and perhaps put ma against us. She wouldn't hear of our marrying now; and she might forbid our engagement."
"But you are going away."
"I should have to go to New York or Europe FIRST, you know," she answered, naively107, "even if it were all settled. I should have to get things! One couldn't be decent here."
With the recollection of the pink cotton gown, in which she had first pledged her troth to him, before his eyes, he said, "But you are charming now. You cannot be more so to me. If I am satisfied, little one, with you as you are, let us go together, and then you can get dresses to please others."
She had not expected this importunity108. Really, if it came to this, she might have engaged herself to some one like Slinn; he at least would have understood her. He was much cleverer, and certainly more of a man of the world. When Slinn had treated her like a child, it was with the humorous tolerance109 of an admiring superior, and not the didactic impulse of a guardian110. She did not say this, nor did her pretty eyes indicate it, as in the instance of her brief anger with Slinn. She only said gently,—
"I should have thought you, of all men, would have been particular about your wife doing the proper thing. But never mind! Don't let us talk any more about it. Perhaps as it seems such a great thing to you, and so much trouble, there may be no necessity for it at all."
I do not think that the young lady deliberately111 planned this charmingly illogical deduction112 from Don Caesar's speech, or that she calculated its effect upon him; but it was part of her nature to say it, and profit by it. Under the unjust lash74 of it, his pride gave way.
"Ah, do you not see why I wish to go with you?" he said, with sudden and unexpected passion. "You are beautiful; you are good; it has pleased Heaven to make you rich also; but you are a child in experience, and know not your own heart. With your beauty, your goodness, and your wealth, you will attract all to you—as you do here—because you cannot help it. But you will be equally helpless, little one, if THEY should attract YOU, and you had no tie to fall back upon."
It was an unfortunate speech. The words were Don Caesar's; but the thought she had heard before from her mother, although the deduction had been of a very different kind. Mamie followed the speaker with bright but visionary eyes. There must be some truth in all this. Her mother had said it; Mr. Slinn had laughingly admitted it. She HAD a brilliant future before her! Was she right in making it impossible by a rash and foolish tie? He himself had said she was inexperienced. She knew it; and yet, what was he doing now but taking advantage of that inexperience? If he really loved her, he would be willing to submit to the test. She did not ask a similar one from him; and was willing, if she came out of it free, to marry him just the same. There was something so noble in this thought that she felt for a moment carried away by an impulse of compassionate113 unselfishness, and smiled tenderly as she looked up in his face.
"Then you consent, Mamie?" he said, eagerly, passing his arm around her waist.
"Not now, Caesar," she said, gently disengaging herself. "I must think it over; we are both too young to act upon it rashly; it would be unfair to you, who are so quiet and have seen so few girls—I mean Americans—to tie yourself to the first one you have known. When I am gone you will go more into the world. There are Mr. Slinn's two sisters coming here—I shouldn't wonder if they were far cleverer and talked far better than I do—and think how I should feel if I knew that only a wretched pledge to me kept you from loving them!" She stopped, and cast down her eyes.
It was her first attempt at coquetry, for, in her usual charming selfishness, she was perfectly114 frank and open; and it might not have been her last, but she had gone too far at first, and was not prepared for a recoil115 of her own argument.
"If you admit that it is possible—that it is possible to you!" he said, quickly.
She saw her mistake. "We may not have many opportunities to meet alone," she answered, quietly; "and I am sure we would be happier when we meet not to accuse each other of impossibilities. Let us rather see how we can communicate together, if anything should prevent our meeting. Remember, it was only by chance that you were able to see me now. If ma has believed that she ought to have been consulted, our meeting together in this secret way will only make matters worse. She is even now wondering where I am, and may be suspicious. I must go back at once. At any moment some one may come here looking for me."
"But I have so much to say," he pleaded. "Our time has been so short."
"You can write."
"But what will your mother think of that?" he said, in grave astonishment116.
She colored again as she returned, quickly, "Of course, you must not write to the house. You can leave a letter somewhere for me—say, somewhere about here. Stop!" she added, with a sudden girlish gayety, "see, here's the very place. Look there!"
She pointed to the decayed trunk of a blasted sycamore, a few feet from the trail. A cavity, breast high, half filled with skeleton leaves and pine-nuts, showed that it had formerly117 been a squirrel's hoard118, but for some reason had been deserted119.
"Look! it's a regular letter-box," she continued, gayly, rising on tip-toe to peep into its recesses120. Don Caesar looked at her admiringly; it seemed like a return to their first idyllic121 love-making in the old days, when she used to steal out of the cabbage rows in her brown linen122 apron123 and sun-bonnet to walk with him in the woods. He recalled the fact to her with the fatality124 of a lover already seeking to restore in past recollections something that was wanting in the present. She received it with the impatience125 of youth, to whom the present is all sufficient.
"I wonder how you could ever have cared for me in that holland apron," she said, looking down upon her new dress.
"Shall I tell you why?" he said, fondly, passing his arm around her waist, and drawing her pretty head nearer his shoulder.
"No—not now!" she said, laughingly, but struggling to free herself. "There's not time. Write it, and put it in the box. There," she added, hastily, "listen!—what's that?"
"It's only a squirrel," he whispered reassuringly126 in her ear.
"No; it's somebody coming! I must go! Please! Caesar, dear! There, then—"
She met his kiss half-way, released herself with a lithe127 movement of her wrist and shoulder, and the next moment seemed to slip into the woods, and was gone.
Don Caesar listened with a sigh as the last rustling128 ceased, cast a look at the decayed tree as if to fix it in his memory, and then slowly retraced129 his steps towards his tethered mustang.
He was right, however, in his surmise130 of the cause of that interruption. A pair of bright eyes had been watching them from the bough131 of an adjacent tree. It was a squirrel, who, having had serious and prior intentions of making use of the cavity they had discovered, had only withheld examination by an apparent courteous132 discretion133 towards the intruding134 pair. Now that they were gone he slipped down the tree and ran towards the decayed stump135.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
shaft
|
|
| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
besieging
|
|
| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
garrisoned
|
|
| 卫戍部队守备( garrison的过去式和过去分词 )； 派部队驻防 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
conscientious
|
|
| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
scruples
|
|
| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
placating
|
|
| v.安抚，抚慰，使平静( placate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
contingency
|
|
| n.意外事件，可能性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
degradation
|
|
| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
prospectors
|
|
| n.勘探者，探矿者( prospector的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
akin
|
|
| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
kin
|
|
| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
assented
|
|
| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
unprecedented
|
|
| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
precedent
|
|
| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
extravagant
|
|
| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
realization
|
|
| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
alleged
|
|
| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
obstinacy
|
|
| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
tenacity
|
|
| n.坚韧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
retention
|
|
| n.保留，保持，保持力，记忆力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
blot
|
|
| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
adamant
|
|
| adj.坚硬的，固执的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
ornament
|
|
| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
obliterate
|
|
| v.擦去，涂抹，去掉...痕迹，消失，除去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
mitigate
|
|
| vt.（使）减轻，（使）缓和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
utilize
|
|
| vt.使用，利用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
privately
|
|
| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
corrupted
|
|
| （使）败坏( corrupt的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）腐化； 引起（计算机文件等的）错误； 破坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
nemesis
|
|
| n.给以报应者，复仇者，难以对付的敌手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
provincial
|
|
| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
avenged
|
|
| v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 )；为…报复 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
orthographical
|
|
| adj.正字法的，拼字正确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
35
outrage
|
|
| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
promptly
|
|
| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
vowel
|
|
| n.元音；元音字母 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
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： |
|
|
|
|
39
tawny
|
|
| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
dominant
|
|
| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
withheld
|
|
| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
spotted
|
|
| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
foresight
|
|
| n.先见之明，深谋远虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
sojourn
|
|
| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
pliancy
|
|
| n.柔软，柔顺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
degenerate
|
|
| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
scion
|
|
| n.嫩芽，子孙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
ingratitude
|
|
| n.忘恩负义 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
soothed
|
|
| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
embroidered
|
|
| adj．绣花的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
artistic
|
|
| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
flirtation
|
|
| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
purely
|
|
| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
platonic
|
|
| adj.精神的；柏拉图（哲学）的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
glade
|
|
| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
middle-aged
|
|
| adj.中年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
scatters
|
|
| v.（使）散开， （使）分散，驱散( scatter的第三人称单数 )；撒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
butts
|
|
| 笑柄( butt的名词复数 )； （武器或工具的）粗大的一端； 屁股； 烟蒂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
mischievous
|
|
| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
mischievously
|
|
| adv.有害地；淘气地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
pallid
|
|
| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
desultory
|
|
| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
rambling
|
|
| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
boulder
|
|
| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
cane
|
|
| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
lash
|
|
| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
punctuating
|
|
| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的现在分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
pauper
|
|
| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
implore
|
|
| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
advertising
|
|
| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
accentuate
|
|
| v.着重，强调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
burlesque
|
|
| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
withhold
|
|
| v.拒绝，不给；使停止，阻挡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
centaur
|
|
| n.人首马身的怪物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
complicate
|
|
| vt.使复杂化，使混乱，使难懂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
stagecoach
|
|
| n.公共马车 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
rattling
|
|
| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
interpretation
|
|
| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
oblivious
|
|
| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
awakening
|
|
| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
jealousy
|
|
| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
unintelligible
|
|
| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
diplomacy
|
|
| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
lariat
|
|
| n.系绳，套索；v.用套索套捕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
obtrusive
|
|
| adj.显眼的；冒失的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
humility
|
|
| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
etiquette
|
|
| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
adobe
|
|
| n.泥砖，土坯，美国Adobe公司 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
investigation
|
|
| n.调查，调查研究 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
naively
|
|
| adv. 天真地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
importunity
|
|
| n.硬要，强求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
tolerance
|
|
| n.宽容；容忍，忍受；耐药力；公差 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
guardian
|
|
| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
deduction
|
|
| n.减除，扣除，减除额；推论，推理，演绎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
compassionate
|
|
| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
recoil
|
|
| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
hoard
|
|
| n./v.窖藏，贮存，囤积 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
recesses
|
|
| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
idyllic
|
|
| adj.质朴宜人的，田园风光的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
apron
|
|
| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
fatality
|
|
| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
reassuringly
|
|
| ad.安心，可靠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
lithe
|
|
| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
rustling
|
|
| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
retraced
|
|
| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
surmise
|
|
| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
bough
|
|
| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
courteous
|
|
| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
discretion
|
|
| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
intruding
|
|
| v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的现在分词)；把…强加于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
stump
|
|
| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |