Brownleigh did not try to put the thought of it out of his life, but rather let it glorify2 the common round. Day after day passed and he went from post to post, from hogan to mesa, and back to his shanty3 again, always with the thought of her companionship, and found it sweet. Never had he been less cheery when he met his friends, though there was a quiet dignity, a tender reserve behind it all that a few discerning ones perceived. They said at the Fort that he was losing flesh, but if so, he was gaining muscle. His lean brown arms were never stronger, and his fine strong face was never sad when any one was by. It was only in the night-time alone upon the moonlit desert, or in his little quiet dwelling4 place when he talked with his Father,[163] and told all the loneliness and heartache. His people found him more sympathetic, more painstaking5, more tireless than ever before, and the work prospered6 under his hand.
The girl in the city deliberately7 set herself to forget.
The first few days after she left him had been a season of ecstatic joy mingled8 with deep depression, as she alternately meditated9 upon the fact of a great love, or faced its impossibility.
She had scorched10 Milton Hamar with her glance of aversion, and avoided him constantly even in the face of protest from her family, until he had made excuse and left the party at Pasadena. There, too, Aunt Maria had relieved them of her annoying interference, and the return trip taken by the southern route had been an unmolested time for meditation11 for the girl. She became daily more and more dissatisfied with herself and her useless, ornamental12 life. Some days she read the little book, and other days she shut it away and tried to get back to her former life, telling herself it was useless to attempt to change herself. She had found that the little book gave her a deep unrest and a sense that life held[164] graver, sweeter things than just living to please one's self. She began to long for home, and the summer round of gaieties, with which to fill the emptiness of her heart.
As the summer advanced there was almost a recklessness sometimes about the way she planned to have a good time every minute; yet in the quiet of her own room there would always come back the yearning14 that had been awakened15 in the desert and would not be silenced.
Sometimes when the memory of that great deep love she had heard expressed for herself came over her, the bitter tears would come to her eyes and one thought would throb16 through her consciousness: "Not worthy17! Not worthy!" He had not thought her fit to be his wife. Her father and her world would think it quite otherwise. They would count him unworthy to mate with her, an heiress, the pet of society; he a man who had given up his life for a whim18, a fad19, a fanatical fancy! But she knew it was not so. She knew him to be a man of all men. She knew it was true that she was not such a woman as a man like that could fitly wed1, and the thought galled20 her constantly.
She tried to accustom21 herself to think of him as a pleasant experience, a friend who[165] might have been if circumstances with them both had been different; she tried to tell herself that it was a passing fancy with them which both would forget; and she tried with all her heart to forget, even locking away the precious little book and trying to forget it too.
And then, one day in late summer, she went with a motoring party through New England; as frolicsome22 and giddy a party as could be found among New York society transferred for the summer to the world of Nature. There was to be a dance or a house party or something of the sort at the end of the drive. Hazel scarcely knew, and cared less. She was becoming utterly23 weary of her butterfly life.
The day was hot and dusty, Indian summer intensified24. They had got out of their way through a mistake of the chauffeur25, and suddenly just on the edge of a tiny quaint26 little village the car broke down and refused to go on without a lengthy27 siege of coaxing28 and petting.
The members of the party, powdered with dust and in no very pleasant frame of mind from the delay, took refuge at the village inn, an old-time hostelry close to the roadside, with wide, brick-paved, white-pillared piazza29 across the front, and a mysterious hedged[166] garden at the side. There were many plain wooden rockers neatly30 adorned31 with white crash on the piazza, and one or two late summer boarders loitering about with knitting work or book. The landlord brought cool tinkling32 glasses of water and rich milk from the spring-house, and they dropped into the chairs to wait while the men of the party gave assistance to the chauffeur in patching up the car.
Hazel sank wearily into her chair and sipped33 the milk unhungrily. She wished she had not come; wished the day were over, and that she might have planned something more interesting; wished she had chosen different people to be of her party; and idly watched a white hen with yellow kid boots and a coral comb in her nicely groomed34 hair picking daintily about the green under the oak trees that shaded the street. She listened to the drone of the bees in the garden near by, the distant whetting35 of a scythe36, the monotonous37 whang of a steam thresher not far away, the happy voices of children, and thought how empty a life in this village would be; almost as dreary38 and uninteresting as living in a desert—and then suddenly she caught a name and the pink flew into her cheeks and memory set her heart athrob.
It was the landlord talking to a lingering summer boarder, a quiet, gray-haired woman who sat reading at the end of the piazza.
"Well, Miss Norton, so you're goin' to leave us next week. Sorry to hear it. Don't seem nat'ral 'thout you clear through October. Ca'c'late you're comin' back to Granville in the spring?"
Granville! Granville! Where had she heard of Granville? Ah! She knew instantly. It was his old home! His mother lived there! But then of course it might have been another Granville. She wasn't even sure what state they were in now, New Hampshire or Vermont. They had been wavering about on the state line several times that day, and she never paid attention to geography.
Then the landlord raised his voice again.
He was gazing across the road where a white colonial house, white-fenced with pickets39 like clean sugar frosting, nestled in the luscious40 grass, green and clean and fresh, and seeming utterly apart from the soil and dust of the road, as if nothing wearisome could ever enter there. Brightly there bloomed a border of late flowers, double asters, zinnias, peonies, with a flame of scarlet41 poppies breaking into the smoke-like blue of larkspurs and bachelor buttons, as it neared the house. Hazel had not noticed it until now and she almost cried out with pleasure over the splendour of colour.
"Wal," said the landlord chinking some loose coins in his capacious pockets, "I reckon Mis' Brownleigh'll miss yeh 'bout13 as much as enny of us. She lots on your comin' over to read to her. I've heerd her say as how Amelia Ellen is a good nurse, but she never was much on the readin', an' Amelia Ellen knows it too. Mis' Brownleigh she'll be powerful lonesome fer yeh when yeh go. It's not so lively fur her tied to her bed er her chair, even ef John does write to her reg'lur twicet a week."
And now Hazel noticed that on the covered veranda42 in front of the wing of the house across the way there sat an old lady on a reclining wheeled chair, and that another woman in a plain blue gown hovered43 near waiting upon her. A luxuriant woodbine partly hid the chair, and the distance was too great to see the face of the woman, but Hazel grew weak with wonder and pleasure. She sat quite still trying to gather her forces while the summer boarder expressed earnest regret at having to leave her chosen summer abiding44 place so much earlier than usual. At last her friends began to rally Hazel on her silence. She turned away annoyed, and answered them crossly, following the landlord into the house and questioning him eagerly. She had suddenly arrived at the conclusion that she must see Mrs. Brownleigh and know if she looked like her son, and if she was the kind of mother one would expect such a son to have. She felt that in the sight might lie her emancipation45 from the bewitchment that had bound her in its toils46 since her Western trip. She also secretly hoped it might justify47 her dearest dreams of what his mother was like.
"Do you suppose that lady across the street would mind if I went over to look at her beautiful flowers?" she burst in upon the astonished landlord as he tipped his chair back with his feet on another and prepared to browse48 over yesterday's paper for the third time that day.
He brought his chair down on its four legs with a thump49 and drew his hat further over his forehead.
"Not a bit, not a bit, young lady. She's proud to show off her flowers. They're one of the sights of Granville. Mis' Brownleigh loves to have comp'ny. Jest go right over an' tell her I sent you. She'll tell you all about 'em, an' like ez not she'll give you a bokay to take 'long. She's real generous with 'em."
He tottered50 out to the door after her on his stiff rheumatic legs, and suggested that the other young ladies might like to go along, but they one and all declined, to Hazel's intense relief, and called their ridicule51 after her as she picked her way across the dusty road and opened the white gate into the peaceful scene beyond.
When she drew close to the side piazza she saw one of the most beautiful faces she had ever looked upon. The features were delicate and exquisitely52 modelled, aged54 by years and much suffering, yet lovely with a peace that had permitted no fretting55. An abundance of waving silken hair white as driven snow was piled high upon her head against the snowy pillow, and soft brown eyes made the girl's heart throb quickly with their likeness56 to those other eyes that had once looked into hers.
She was dressed in a simple little muslin gown of white and gray with white cloud-like finish at throat and wrists, and across the helpless limbs was flung a light afghan of pink and gray wool. She made a sweet picture as she lay and watched her ap[171]proaching guest with a smile of interest and welcome.
"The landlord said you would not mind if I came over to see your flowers," Hazel said with a shy, half-frightened catch in her voice. Now that she was here she was almost sorry she had come. It might not be his mother at all, and what could she say anyway? Yet her first glimpse told her that this was a mother to be proud of. "The most beautiful mother in the world" he had called her, and surely this woman could be none other than the one who had mothered such a son. Her highest ideals of motherhood seemed realized as she gazed upon the peaceful face of the invalid57.
And then the voice! For the woman was speaking now, holding out a lily-white hand to her and bidding her be seated in the Chinese willow58 chair that stood close by the wheeled one; a great green silk cushion at the back, and a large palm leaf fan on the table beside it.
"I am so pleased that you came over," Mrs. Brownleigh was saying. "I have been wondering if some one wouldn't come to me. I keep my flowers partly to attract my friends, for I can stand a great deal of company since I'm all alone. You came in the big motor car that broke down, didn't you? I've been watching the pretty girls over there, in their gay ribbons and veils. They look like human flowers. Rest here and tell me where you have come from and where you are going, while Amelia Ellen picks you some flowers to take along. Afterwards you shall go among them and see if there are any you like that she has missed. Amelia Ellen! Get your basket and scissors and pick a great many flowers for this young lady. It is getting late and they have not much longer to blossom. There are three white buds on the rose-bush. Pick them all. I think they fit your face, my dear. Now take off your hat and let me see your pretty hair without its covering. I want to get your picture fixed59 in my heart so I can look at you after you are gone."
And so quite simply they fell into easy talk about each other, the day, the village, and the flowers.
"You see the little white church down the street? My husband was its pastor60 for twenty years. I came to this house a bride, and our boy was born here. Afterwards, when his father was taken away, I stayed right here with the people who loved him. The boy was in college then, getting ready to take up his father's work. I've stayed here ever since. I love the people and they love me, and I couldn't very well be moved, you know. My boy is out in Arizona, a home missionary61!" She said it as Abraham Lincoln's mother might have said: "My boy is president of the United States!" Her face wore a kind of glory that bore a startling resemblance to the man of the desert. Hazel marvelled62 greatly, and understood what had made the son so great.
"I don't see how he could go and leave you alone!" she broke forth63 almost bitterly. "I should think his duty was here with his mother!"
"Yes, I know," the mother smiled; "they do say that, some of them, but it's because they don't understand. You see we gave John to God when he was born, and it was our hope from the first that he would choose to be a minister and a missionary. Of course John thought at first after his father went away that he could not leave me, but I made him see that I would be happier so. He wanted me to go with him, but I knew I should only be a hindrance64 to the work, and it came to me that my part in the work was to stay at home and let him go. It was all I had left to do after I became an invalid.[174] And I'm very comfortable. Amelia Ellen takes care of me like a baby, and there are plenty of friends. My boy writes me beautiful letters twice a week, and we have such nice talks about the work. He's very like his father, and growing more so every day. Perhaps," she faltered65 and fumbled66 under the pink and silver lap robe, "perhaps you'd like to read a bit of one of his letters. I have it here. It came yesterday and I've only read it twice. I don't let myself read them too often because they have to last three days apiece at least. Perhaps you'd read it aloud to me. I like to hear John's words aloud sometimes and Amelia Ellen has never spent much time reading. She is peculiar67 in her pronunciation. Do you mind reading it to me?"
She held a letter forth, written in a strong free hand, the same that had signed the name John Chadwick Brownleigh in the little book. Hazel's heart throbbed68 eagerly and her hand trembled as she reached it shyly towards the letter. What a miracle was this! that his very letter was being put into her hand, her whom he loved—to read! Was it possible? Could there be a mistake? No, surely not. There could not be two John Brownleighs, both missionaries69 to Arizona.
"Dear little Mother o' Mine:" it began, and plunged70 at once into the breezy life of the Western country. He had been to a cattle round-up the week before and he described it minutely in terse71 and vivid language, with many a flash of wit, or graver touch of wisdom, and here and there a boyish expression that showed him young at heart, and devoted72 to his mother. He told of a visit he had paid to the Hopi Indians, their strange villages, each like a gigantic house with many rooms, called a pueblo73, built on the edges of lofty crags or mesas and looking like huge castles five or six hundred feet above the desert floor. He told of Walpi, a village out on the end of a great promontory74, its only access a narrow neck of land less than a rod wide, with one little path worn more than a foot deep in the solid rock by the feet of ten generations passing over it, where now live about two hundred and thirty people in one building. There were seven of these villages built on three mesas that reach out from the northern desert like three great fingers, Oraibi, the largest, having over a thousand people. He explained that Spanish explorers found these Hopis in 1540, long before the pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock,and called the country Tusayan. Then he went on to describe a remarkable75 meeting that had been held in which the Indians had manifested deep interest in spiritual things, and had asked many curious questions about life, death and the hereafter.
"You see, dear," said the mother, her eyes shining eagerly, "you see how much they need him, and I'm glad I can give him. It makes me have a part in the work."
Hazel turned back to the letter and went on reading to hide the tears that were gathering76 in her own eyes as she looked upon the exalted77 face of the mother.
There was a detailed78 account of a conference of missionaries, to attend which the rider had ridden ninety miles on horseback; and at the close there was an exquisite53 description of the spot where they had camped the last night of their ride. She knew it from the first word almost, and her heart beat so wildly she could hardly keep her voice steady to read:
"I stopped over night on the way home at a place I dearly love. There is a great rock, shelving and overhanging, for shelter from any passing storm, and quite near a charming green boudoir of cedars79 on three sides,and rock on the fourth. An abundant water-hole makes camping easy for me and Billy, and the stars overhead are good tapers80. Here I build my fire and boil the kettle, read my portion and lie down to watch the heavens. Mother, I wish you knew how near to God one feels out in the desert with the stars. Last night about three o'clock I woke to replenish81 my fire and watch a while a great comet, the finest one for many years. I would tell you about it but I've already made this letter too long, and it's time Billy and I were on our way again. I love this spot beside the big rock and often come back to it on my journeys; perhaps because here I once camped with a dear friend and we had pleasant converse82 together around our brushwood fire. It makes the desert seem less lonely because I can sometimes fancy my friend still reclining over on the other side of the fire in the light that plays against the great rock. Well, little mother o' mine, I must close. Cheer up, for it has been intimated to me that I may be sent East to General Assembly in the spring, and then for three whole weeks with you! That will be when the wild strawberries are out, and I shall carry you in my arms and spread a couch for you on the strawberry hill behind the house, and you shall pick some again with your own hands."
With a sudden catch in her throat like a sob83 the reading came to an end and Hazel, her eyes bright with tears, handed the letter reverently84 back to the mother whose face was bright with smiles.
"Isn't he a boy worth giving?" she asked as she folded the letter and slipped it back under the pink and gray cover.
"He is a great gift," said Hazel in a low voice.
She was almost glad that Amelia Ellen came up with an armful of flowers just then and she might bury her face in their freshness and hide the tears that would not be stayed, and then before she had half admired their beauty there was a loud "Honk-honk!" from the road, followed by a more impatient one, and Hazel was made aware that she was being waited for.
"I'm sorry you must go, dear," said the gentle woman. "I haven't seen so beautiful a girl in years, and I'm sure you have a lovely heart, too. I wish you could visit me again."
"I will come again some time if you will let me!" said the girl impulsively85, and then stooped and kissed the soft rose-leaf cheek, and fled down the path trying to get control of her emotion before meeting her companions.
Hazel was quiet all the rest of the way, and was rallied much upon her solemnity. She pleaded a headache and closed her eyes, while each heart-throb carried her back over the months and brought her again to the little camp under the rock beneath the stars.
"He remembered still! He cared!" This was what her glad thoughts sang as the car whirled on, and her gay companions forgot her and chattered86 of their frivolities.
"How wonderful that I should find his mother!" she said again and again to herself. Yet it was not so wonderful. He had told her the name of the town, and she might have come here any time of her own accord. But it was strange and beautiful that the accident had brought her straight to the door of the house where he had been born and brought up! What a beautiful, happy boyhood he must have had with a mother like that! Hazel found herself thinking wistfully, out of the emptiness of her own motherless girlhood. Yes, she would go back and see the sweet mother some day; and she fell to planning how it could be.[180]
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
wed
|
|
| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
glorify
|
|
| vt.颂扬，赞美，使增光，美化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
shanty
|
|
| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
painstaking
|
|
| adj.苦干的；艰苦的，费力的，刻苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
prospered
|
|
| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
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： |
|
|
|
|
9
meditated
|
|
| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
scorched
|
|
| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
meditation
|
|
| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
ornamental
|
|
| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
bout
|
|
| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
yearning
|
|
| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
throb
|
|
| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
whim
|
|
| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
fad
|
|
| n.时尚；一时流行的狂热；一时的爱好 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
galled
|
|
| v.使…擦痛( gall的过去式和过去分词 )；擦伤；烦扰；侮辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
accustom
|
|
| vt.使适应，使习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
frolicsome
|
|
| adj.嬉戏的，闹着玩的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
intensified
|
|
| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
chauffeur
|
|
| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
quaint
|
|
| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
lengthy
|
|
| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
coaxing
|
|
| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的现在分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱；“锻炼”效应 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
piazza
|
|
| n.广场；走廊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
adorned
|
|
| [计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
tinkling
|
|
| n.丁当作响声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
sipped
|
|
| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
groomed
|
|
| v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的过去式和过去分词 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
whetting
|
|
| v.（在石头上）磨（刀、斧等）( whet的现在分词 )；引起，刺激（食欲、欲望、兴趣等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
scythe
|
|
| n. 长柄的大镰刀，战车镰； v. 以大镰刀割 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
monotonous
|
|
| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
pickets
|
|
| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
luscious
|
|
| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
veranda
|
|
| n.走廊；阳台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
hovered
|
|
| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
abiding
|
|
| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
emancipation
|
|
| n.（从束缚、支配下）解放 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
toils
|
|
| 网 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
justify
|
|
| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
browse
|
|
| vi.随意翻阅，浏览；(牛、羊等)吃草 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
thump
|
|
| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
tottered
|
|
| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
ridicule
|
|
| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
exquisitely
|
|
| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
aged
|
|
| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
fretting
|
|
| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
likeness
|
|
| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
invalid
|
|
| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
willow
|
|
| n.柳树 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
pastor
|
|
| n.牧师，牧人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
missionary
|
|
| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
marvelled
|
|
| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
hindrance
|
|
| n.妨碍，障碍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
faltered
|
|
| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
fumbled
|
|
| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
throbbed
|
|
| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
missionaries
|
|
| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
terse
|
|
| adj.(说话，文笔)精炼的，简明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
pueblo
|
|
| n.（美国西南部或墨西哥等）印第安人的村庄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
promontory
|
|
| n.海角；岬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
exalted
|
|
| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
detailed
|
|
| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
cedars
|
|
| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
tapers
|
|
| （长形物体的）逐渐变窄( taper的名词复数 )； 微弱的光； 极细的蜡烛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
replenish
|
|
| vt.补充；(把…)装满；(再)填满 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
converse
|
|
| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
sob
|
|
| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
reverently
|
|
| adv.虔诚地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
impulsively
|
|
| adv.冲动地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
chattered
|
|
| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |