The man’s face looked fallen and hectic1; but he was recovered at least of his fit. Darda clung to his arm, a frail2, defiant3, wisp of a thing, her hair a quivering mist of fire in the light of the low-down sun.
“Whither away?” said the baronet in surprise. “My horse, Whimple.”
Dennis put his sister gently to one side, and took the bridle5. Standing6 thus, he turned to his master and spoke7 him quietly.
“And where do you wend now?” said Mr. Tuke mockingly.
“I don’t know, sir; indeed, I don’t. We must make shift in a barn for to-night.”
“And your belongings—your personal effects?”
The servant made a sad expressive9 gesture. “Only our poor clothes,” it seemed to imply.
“Now, my good fellow,” said the baronet, a little grimly, “I decline, you know, to take the responsibility of this self-martyrdom. It is a weak attempt to put me in the wrong, which is no improvement of your case. I gave an order which was not carried out.”
“Nor you?”
“Nor I, indeed, sir.”
“H’m! It must be one of those remnants of mortality that provide for themselves, it seems. Anyhow, it is gone now, I presume?”
“I will swear I took it away and locked it up.”
“Very well. Then let us say no more about it. Do you wish to stay on?”
“I wish, sir, with all respect, to do my duty by the place that has so long harboured us.”
“Which means I am not included in the contract, and that you would take service elsewhere if you could get a better.”
The man was protesting, but the other stopped him with a laugh.
“Go your ways,” said he. “I see no reason why you should love me. We will make it a question of duty, and abide13 by that.”
Throughout the little discussion, Darda had stood in the entrance, passive and indifferent. Now, foreseeing the upshot, she turned and walked away into the gathering14 dusk of the house.
Mr. Tuke followed, jovially15 whistling. All the evening he was in great spirits, and at supper he had up a bottle of Muscadine, jacketed with a half-century growth of cobwebs and tartar, and drank to the blue of a couple of eyes that were comically, and a little sweetly, in his thoughts.
He went to bed, slept like Innocence17, and woke like Justice, and, as he lay on his morning pillow, pondered the oddities of his new life.
One small matter exercised his mind perplexingly—his antipathy18 to the man Whimple. Whence it was born, and on what cherished, he found it difficult to decide. The fellow was respectful, obedient, and, so far as he knew, honest. Yet, from the first, he had felt an inclination19, unusual to his bent20, to bully21 him and depreciate22 his efforts. Something in the man—he could not tell what—woke suspicion in him—unjustified, he verily believed. He would remedy this, if possible; would look with a broader view of toleration on the conduct of his spiritless dependent.
The resolve was frank and characteristic enough; and he was decided24 to give it immediate25 expression. But so it happened, an incident of the coming day was to reawaken and confirm his deepest distrust in the unhappy caretaker.
All the morning he spent riding about his ragged26 estate, exploring, investigating, calculating possibilities and planning improvements. It was past mid-day when he turned his horse’s head homewards, and then he was by a dense27 thicket28 that skirted a little long wood of lofty trees. Here he dismounted; for it struck him that this was the fringe of the very holt he had penetrated29 on his first coming, and he must put his conjecture30 to the test. He tied up his horse and plunged31 amongst the branches, and presently was rewarded by catching32 a glimpse through the thronging33 trunks of the mossy lap of the drive and the dank stones of the ruined lodge34. Right opposite the latter, but well hidden in the brush, he sat himself down upon a tumbled log; for he was hot and weary, and the high green silence of the place smote35 upon his senses like a cathedral anthem36. Far away the tap of a woodpecker rang like an elfin hammer; things unseen pattered from a height upon the dead leaves—mere37 accents on solitude38; the “caw” of a sailing rook came through the leafy canopy39 overhead with a weight of drowsy40 utterance41.
He closed his eyes blissfully—and opened them again with a start.
Something soft-footed had entered the drive by way of the iron gate—had paused, and was peering forward with a concentrated gaze.
He made this out—cautiously shifting his body for the better view—to be a tall, dark-featured woman—a gipsy-like creature by every token—keen-faced; very poorly dressed. Presently she moved secretly, a yard at a time, in skirmishing advances, as a mouse does.
Suddenly she gave a little run; stopped; drew her ragged shawl tightly about her bosom42, and uttered a low exclamation43 of greeting. To whom? It was with a curious wonder that the watcher saw coming from the other direction his man Whimple. He, the latter, moved as the woman, with a like air of secrecy44; and he had a scared look in his face, too, as if he were on some errand of a disturbing privacy.
The two met, with a hasty familiarity of welcome, and words passed between them. These were earnest, rapid, vehement45; but Mr. Tuke could not gather their import. More than once the woman’s voice wavered up for an instant into a tone of scorn and indignation, which was as quickly subdued46.
Then, in a moment, something had passed from the man to the stranger—something, wrapped in an old chequered handkerchief, that she received delicately and hid under her shawl,—and they had parted, and the woman had gone to the gate with a sound of sobbing47.
“Mr. Whimple, Mr. Whimple,” thought Mr. Whimple’s master—“if there was only a little more brass48 in your hang-dog face, I could respect, if I didn’t encourage, your tactics.”
He saw the fellow turn and scurry49 away as he had come, and gave an indrawn whistle deflected50 at the stop, as men do who vent51 upon themselves an emotion of surprise.
“Now, what is the riddle52?” he muttered. “Our effectless friend can find the means to a little barter53 on his own account, it seems. But where is in all the house to tempt10 his honesty? Well, forewarned is forearmed; and there is an end of the reaction in your favour, Mr. Dennis.”
He left the wood by and by, and made for the house, lost in speculation54. For the present he was resolved to allude55 in no way to the interview he had been witness of; and to alter no whit4 of his manner towards his servant. So should he be clad in double proof who keeps secret his discovery of his enemy’s ambush56.
Despite the decision, however, he found it no light matter to give to his consideration for his dependent that air of spontaneity he had made it his task to exhibit. He could hardly tell if it were his own reawakened suspicions they saw themselves reflected in the man’s face; but—so it seemed to him—the latter was full of a covert57 significance of guilt58 and trepidation59 that was expressed in a certain watchfulness60 most difficult to ignore.
He was sitting, having finished his dinner, deep in thought; when this very fellow entered to say that a man without craved61 the indulgence of a word with his honour.
“A man?—What man?” said Tuke.
“He is a stranger to me, sir.”
“Did you ask his name—his business?”
“No, sir.”
“Go and do so, blockhead!”—He lost his patience for a moment; then, recollecting62 himself, “Tell him to walk in here,” he added more mildly.
In response to this amiable63 permission, an individual, whose wooden face wore the perpetual smile of an “Aunt Sally,” and whose clothes smelt64 of stables and were mere patched horse-cloths in appearance, advanced to the threshold of the hall, where he stood, after touching65 his forelock, with an expression on his features of the most engaging vacuity66.
“Now, my man!” said the baronet; “what is your business?”
“I come to enkvire, master, if ye has a gawdner?”
“A gardener? No, I have not.”
The oddity’s little eyes looked anywhere but at the speaker. He seemed to be joyously67 calculating the dimensions of the ceiling.
“Mebbe ye vants a gawdner?” he said roguishly.
“Maybe you want to be engaged? Where do you hail from—any place hereabouts?”
“Not I, squeer. I comes fro’ Suth’ampt’n.”
“And what are your qualifications?”
“I’m Joe Corby.”
“What are your qualifications for the post, I say?”
“All’s one for that. I’m a gawdner, squeer.”
“Do you know a cabbage from a rose?”
“Aye; and a spade from a stallion.”
Mr. Tuke scanned the fellow in silence for a moment.
“And a barrow from a rakehell, I suppose?” said he quietly. “You are too accomplished68 for me. Whimple, show this person off the premises69.”
“Certainly. Whimple!”
“Look’ee here, master,” said the intruder, hesitating and apparently71 embarrassed, “I’ll ventur’ to speak Gawd’s truth, with your honour’s kind indulgence. I’m a Jack-o’-trades, I am—a handy man, ye might call me, and tough as a dawg in bout12 or brawl72. You live lonely, says I to myself—the gent lives lonely; and there be reskel characters about in every lonely by-way. He might find me useful, the gent might; and my sarvice is for him, so be he rekvires it. Roses, says you? Well, not partiklerly; but cabbages—yes—bein’ all heart and head. That’s what I am—heart and head, and both at your honour’s sarvice. I know a thing or two. Them shutters73, now—how be they fastened?”
Actually, as he spoke, he was stepping into the room, smile and all, with the apparent intention of setting his mind at rest on the subject. However, the gentleman jumped up and barred his way.
“What!” cried the latter. “Take yourself off, fellow—you aren’t wanted here!”
The man stopped; scratched his head with a laughable expression of chagrin74, and retreated muttering.
“No offence, master; no offence,” said he, and either a very comical or a very wicked light glinted in his little eyes as he retired75.
Dennis escorted him without, and the voices of the two in low converse76 came to Mr. Tuke where he stood. He rattled77 on the window angrily, and the man slouched off, going in the direction of the drive.
Now the oddness of this apparition78 and of the interview it had brought about was filling the baronet with a sense of uneasiness. There had been that in the fellow that had seemed to belie23 his assumption of stupidity; and, after a moment’s thought, Tuke left the hall, quitted the house by a back door, and started rapidly upon a private détour that should bring him upon the drive at a point near to the ruined lodge. He wished to satisfy himself as to two little matters—whether or no the man had confederates in waiting at the gate, and whether or no he would make his exit in proper course.
He sped so energetically, that, when at last he struck the thickets79 at the back of the lodge, and, moving cautiously, peered through the trees, he found that he had fairly outrun his quarry80 and must await its coming. For this purpose no better ambush could offer than the deserted81 cottage itself.
Stepping warily82, he moved round by way of the garden he had entered once before, and passed with a little thrill that torn patch in the tangle83 that remained an intimate mark in his memory. It was with a tickle84 of nervousness that, as he went by, he paused an instant and, looking down, caught sight of a glint of slimy wall on which the very canker of death seemed to lie in an oily scab.
At the back of the lodge stood a crazy porch of rustic85 woodwork, and therefrom a door, lolling on broken hinges, gave access to the interior of the building. There was a gap here sufficient for the entrance of a man, and he went through it swiftly, and along a stone-paved passage beyond, that was dumb with dust and littered with flaked86 rags of plaster and crackling wall-paper. So he made his way to a front room that looked upon the drive; and here he paused with a certain measure of astonishment87. For on some mouldering88 shelves that spanned a recess89 by the chimney, lay in orderly arrangement of ugliness Darda’s banished90 museum of curiosities.
He nodded to himself with set lips, and moved to the window. In the moment of his doing so, a low crooning voice broke upon his ears, and the fantastic figure of the girl herself came out from amongst the trees opposite and stood in a shaft92 of sunlight that broke from above into that luminous93 well of leafiness.
She smiled and sang, making a harmony of weird94 discords95; and throwing her head back, with her hands beneath, it received the touch of the sun upon her mouth, and seemed to return it with a fond little sound of kissing.
She was so near to him, that he could see the pulse in her throat fluttering like a bird’s as she murmured her strange music—could note every movement of the spirit that rose from her heart to her lips.
Suddenly she was silent, and gazing before her, dropped an odd little curtsey and stood still. Mr. Joseph Corby had, it appeared, come down the drive and was slouching into view. He stopped before the girl; yet not, it seemed, as one who was altogether unacquainted with her or ignorant of her reputation; for he stood at gaze with some expression of hilarity96, but none of wonder upon his face.
“That’s right, missy,” he said. “Drink the sun, like the new wine it is for a merry maid. It’s yaller, for youth, as is cowslips and buttercupses and pretty gildilocks; but give me the old red of Oporto for a seasoned skin, and a ship’s bucket of it to drink against bed-time.”
“You could swallow a lake of it, I expect,” said she, “like the troll in the fairy tale.”
“That’s it,” he said, “a lake of wine.”
He came quite close to the girl, and advanced his red face so that his injected eyes looked full into hers.
“A lake of wine,” he repeated. “Have you ever heard tell of one?”
She shook her head smiling.
“Come now,” said the man—and the watcher saw his jovial16 face suddenly assume a very evil and menacing look. “Have you ever heard of one, I say? You’d better answer.”
Again she shook her head.
“You must know, you know,” said the fellow, his eyes staring and his mouth creasing98 at the corners. “You ain’t a lively sucker o’ the old stem and growed up here all these years not to have heard on it. What is it, I say? What’s become o’ the Lake of Wine?”
He gripped her wrist as he spoke. She uttered a little shriek99 of pain and anger—not of fear—and sprang back from him. She even made a feint of aiming a blow at him with her soft fist.
“You dare to touch me!” she cried. “My nails are like thorns.”
“Aye, and so’s your mind,” muttered the man. He looked at her in savage100 gloom a moment; then his broad face cleared, and he grinned in a conciliatory manner.
“Come, missy,” he said, with an upward jerk of his chin. “We’ll be good friends, I can see. I not expeerunce spurit in a gal101 without knowing how to admire it. Of course if you’re set on havin’ a secret from old Joe, Joe’s not the man to appint to find it out. His wit’s a rumfusticus sort o’ target to put up agen your bright arrers. I only axed out o’ curiosity—has you ever heard tell of a Lake of Wine?—and no, says you.”
The girl was silent.
She nodded and laughed in an elfin manner.
“Perhaps I did,” she said. “What then?”
“I thought so,” said he. “Well, what’s become on it?”
She was laughing again, when Dennis’s voice came from a distance, calling her. At the sound she sprang forward immediately, evaded Mr. Corby, who had made a clutch at her, and was sped out of sight up the drive before he could collect his faculties104.
“Missy!” he had called, as she ran from him. “You and me must meet agen and have a long talk. Missy! mum’s the word!” but she had given no sign of hearing him.
Left by himself, the fellow plunged into a ruminative105 mood; spat106 thoughtfully upon the ground; and then all of a sudden made rapidly for the gate and vanished up the road.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
hectic
|
|
| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
frail
|
|
| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
defiant
|
|
| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
whit
|
|
| n.一点，丝毫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
bridle
|
|
| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
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： |
|
|
|
|
8
snug
|
|
| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
expressive
|
|
| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
tempt
|
|
| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
skull
|
|
| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
bout
|
|
| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
abide
|
|
| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
jovially
|
|
| adv.愉快地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
jovial
|
|
| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
antipathy
|
|
| n.憎恶；反感，引起反感的人或事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
inclination
|
|
| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
bully
|
|
| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
depreciate
|
|
| v.降价，贬值，折旧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
belie
|
|
| v.掩饰，证明为假 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
thicket
|
|
| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
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： |
|
|
|
|
30
conjecture
|
|
| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
thronging
|
|
| v.成群，挤满( throng的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
lodge
|
|
| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
smote
|
|
| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
anthem
|
|
| n.圣歌，赞美诗，颂歌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
canopy
|
|
| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
drowsy
|
|
| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
exclamation
|
|
| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
secrecy
|
|
| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
vehement
|
|
| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
subdued
|
|
| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
sobbing
|
|
| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
scurry
|
|
| vi.急匆匆地走；使急赶；催促；n.快步急跑，疾走；仓皇奔跑声；骤雨，骤雪；短距离赛马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
deflected
|
|
| 偏离的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
vent
|
|
| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
riddle
|
|
| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
barter
|
|
| n.物物交换，以货易货，实物交易 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
speculation
|
|
| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
allude
|
|
| v.提及，暗指 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
ambush
|
|
| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
covert
|
|
| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
guilt
|
|
| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
trepidation
|
|
| n.惊恐，惶恐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
watchfulness
|
|
| 警惕，留心； 警觉（性） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
craved
|
|
| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
recollecting
|
|
| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
amiable
|
|
| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
smelt
|
|
| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
vacuity
|
|
| n.(想象力等)贫乏，无聊，空白 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
joyously
|
|
| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
premises
|
|
| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
genial
|
|
| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
brawl
|
|
| n.大声争吵，喧嚷；v.吵架，对骂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
shutters
|
|
| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
chagrin
|
|
| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
converse
|
|
| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
rattled
|
|
| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
apparition
|
|
| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
thickets
|
|
| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
quarry
|
|
| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
warily
|
|
| adv.留心地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
tangle
|
|
| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
tickle
|
|
| v.搔痒，胳肢；使高兴；发痒；n.搔痒，发痒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
rustic
|
|
| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
flaked
|
|
| 精疲力竭的，失去知觉的，睡去的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
mouldering
|
|
| v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
recess
|
|
| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
banished
|
|
| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
evaded
|
|
| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
shaft
|
|
| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
luminous
|
|
| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
weird
|
|
| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
discords
|
|
| 不和（discord的复数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
hilarity
|
|
| n.欢乐；热闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
shrilly
|
|
| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
creasing
|
|
| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的现在分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 挑檐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
shriek
|
|
| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
gal
|
|
| n.姑娘，少女 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
geniality
|
|
| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
grunt
|
|
| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
faculties
|
|
| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
ruminative
|
|
| adj.沉思的，默想的，爱反复思考的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
spat
|
|
| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |