THE CARD-TABLES were opened, parties were made up for boston, and the count's guests settled themselves in the two drawing-rooms, the divan-room, and the library.
The count, holding his cards in a fan, with some difficulty kept himself from dropping into his customary after-dinner nap, and laughed at everything. The young people, at the countess's suggestion, gathered about the clavichord1 and the harp2. Julie was first pressed by every one to perform, and played a piece with variations on the harp. Then she joined the other young ladies in begging Natasha and Nikolay, who were noted3 for their musical talents, to sing something. Natasha, who was treated by every one as though she were grown-up, was visibly very proud of it, and at the same time made shy by it.
“What are we to sing?” she asked.
“The ‘Spring,' ” answered Nikolay.
“Well, then, let's make haste. Boris, come here,” said Natasha. “But where's Sonya?” She looked round, and seeing that her friend was not in the room, she ran off to find her.
After running to Sonya's room, and not finding her there, Natasha ran to the nursery: Sonya was not there either. Natasha knew that she must be on the chest in the corridor. The chest in the corridor was the scene of the woes4 of the younger feminine generation of the house of Rostov. Yes, Sonya was on the chest, lying face downwards5, crushing her gossamer6 pink frock on their old nurse's dirty striped feather-bed. Her face hidden in her fingers, she was sobbing7, and her little bare shoulders were heaving. Natasha's birthday face that had been festive8 and excited all day, changed at once; her eyes wore a fixed9 look, then her broad neck quivered, and the corners of her lips drooped10.
“Sonya! what is it? … what's the matter with you? Oo-oo-oo! …” and Natasha, letting her big mouth drop open and becoming quite ugly, wailed11 like a baby, not knowing why, simply because Sonya was crying. Sonya tried to lift up her head, tried to answer, but could not, and buried her face more than ever. Natasha cried, sitting on the edge of the blue feather-bed and hugging her friend. Making an effort, Sonya got up, began to dry her tears and to talk.
“Nikolinka's going away in a week, his … paper … has come … he told me himself. … But still I shouldn't cry …” (she showed a sheet of paper she was holding in her hand; on it were verses written by Nikolay). “I shouldn't have cried; but you can't … no one can understand … what a soul he has.”
And again she fell to weeping at the thought of how noble his soul was.
“It's all right for you … I'm not envious12 … I love you and Boris too,” she said, controlling herself a little; “he's so nice … there are no difficulties in your way. But Nikolay's my cousin … the metropolitan13 chief priest himself … has to … or else it's impossible. And so, if mamma's told” (Sonya looked on the countess and addressed her as a mother), “she'll say that I'm spoiling Nikolay's career, that I have no heart, that I'm ungrateful, though really … in God's name” (she made the sign of the cross) “I love her so, and all of you, only Vera … Why is it? What have I done to her? I am so grateful to you that I would be glad to sacrifice everything for you, but I have nothing. …”
Sonya could say no more, and again she buried her head in her hands and the feather-bed. Natasha tried to comfort her, but her face showed that she grasped all the gravity of her friend's trouble.
“Sonya!” she said all at once, as though she had guessed the real cause of her cousin's misery14, “of course Vera's been talking to you since dinner? Yes?”
“Yes, these verses Nikolay wrote himself, and I copied some others; and she found them on my table, and said she should show them to mamma, and she said too that I was ungrateful, and that mamma would never allow him to marry me, but that he would marry Julie. You see how he has been with her all day … Natasha! why is it?”
And again she sobbed15 more bitterly than ever. Natasha lifted her up, hugged her, and, smiling through her tears, began comforting her.
“Sonya, don't you believe her, darling; don't believe her. Do you remember how we talked with Nikolay, all three of us together, in the divan-room, do you remember, after supper? Why, we settled how it should all be. I don't quite remember now, but do you remember, it was all right and all possible. Why, uncle Shinshin's brother is married to his first cousin, and we're only second cousins, you know. And Boris said that it's quite easily arranged. You know I told him all about it. He's so clever and so good,” said Natasha. … “Don't cry, Sonya, darling, sweet one, precious, Sonya,” and she kissed her, laughing. “Vera is spiteful; never mind her! and it will all come right and she won't tell mamma. Nikolinka will tell her himself, and he's never thought of Julie.”
And she kissed her on the head. Sonya got up, and the kitten revived; its eyes sparkled, and it was ready, it seemed, to wag its tail, spring on its soft paws and begin to play with a ball, in its own natural, kittenish way.
“Do you think so? Really? Truly?” she said rapidly, smoothing her frock and her hair.
“Really, truly,” answered Natasha, putting back a stray coil of rough hair on her friend's head; and they both laughed. “Well, come along and sing the ‘Spring.' ”
“Let's go, then.”
“And do you know that fat Pierre, who was sitting opposite me, he's so funny!” Natasha said suddenly, stopping. “I am enjoying myself so,” and Natasha ran along the corridor.
Brushing off the feather fluff from her frock, and thrusting the verses into her bodice next her little throat and prominent breast-bones, Sonya ran with flushed face and light, happy steps, following Natasha along the corridor to the divan-room. At the request of their guests the young people sang the quartette the “Spring,” with which every one was delighted; then Nikolay sang a song he had lately learnt.
“How sweet in the moon's kindly16 ray,
In fancy to thyself to say,
That earth holds still one dear to thee!
Whose thoughts, whose dreams are all of thee!
That her fair fingers as of old
Stray still upon the harp of gold,
Making sweet, passionate17 harmony,
That to her side doth summon thee!
To-morrow and thy bliss18 is near!
Alas19! all's past! she is not here!”
And he had hardly sung the last words when the young people were getting ready to dance in the big hall, and the musicians began stamping with their feet and coughing in the orchestra.
Pierre was sitting in the drawing-room, where Shinshin had started a conversation with him on the political situation, as a subject likely to be of interest to any one who had just come home from abroad, though it did not in fact interest Pierre. Several other persons joined in the conversation. When the orchestra struck up, Natasha walked into the drawing-room, and going straight up to Pierre, laughing and blushing, she said, “Mamma told me to ask you to dance.”
“I'm afraid of muddling20 the figures,” said Pierre, “but if you will be my teacher …” and he gave his fat hand to the slim little girl, putting his arm low down to reach her level.
While the couples were placing themselves and the musicians were tuning21 up, Pierre sat down with his little partner. Natasha was perfectly22 happy; she was dancing with a grown-up person, with a man who had just come from abroad. She was sitting in view of every one and talking to him like a grown-up person. She had in her hand a fan, which some lady had given her to hold, and taking the most modish23 pose (God knows where and when she had learnt it), fanning herself and smiling all over her face, she talked to her partner.
“What a girl! Just look at her, look at her!” said the old countess, crossing the big hall and pointing to Natasha. Natasha coloured and laughed.
“Why, what do you mean, mamma? Why should you laugh? Is there anything strange about it?”
In the middle of the third écossaise there was a clatter24 of chairs in the drawing-room, where the count and Marya Dmitryevna were playing, and the greater number of the more honoured guests and elderly people stretching themselves after sitting so long, put their pocket-books and purses in their pockets and came out to the door of the big hall. In front of all came Marya Dmitryevna and the count, both with radiant faces. The count gave his arm, curved into a hoop25, to Marya Dmitryevna with playfully exaggerated ceremony, like a ballet-dancer. He drew himself up, and his face beamed with a peculiar26, jauntily-knowing smile, and as soon as they had finished dancing the last figure of the écossaise, he clapped his hands to the orchestra, and shouted to the first violin: “Semyon! do you know ‘Daniel Cooper'?”
That was the count's favourite dance that he had danced in his youth. (Daniel Cooper was the name of a figure of the anglaise.)
“Look at papa!” Natasha shouted to all the room (entirely forgetting that she was dancing with a grown-up partner), and ducking down till her curly head almost touched her knees, she went off into her ringing laugh that filled the hall. Every one in the hall was, in fact, looking with a smile of delight at the gleeful old gentleman. Standing27 beside his majestic28 partner, Marya Dmitryevna, who was taller than he was, he curved his arms, swaying them in time to the music, moved his shoulders, twirled with his legs, lightly tapping with his heels, and with a broadening grin on his round face, prepared the spectators for what was to come. As soon as the orchestra played the gay, irresistible29 air of Daniel Cooper, somewhat like a livelier Russian trepak, all the doorways30 of the big hall were suddenly filled with the smiling faces of the house-serfs—men on one side, and women on the other—come to look at their master making merry.
“Our little father! An eagle he is!” the old nurse said out loud at one door.
The count danced well and knew that he did, but his partner could not dance at all, and did not care about dancing well. Her portly figure stood erect31, with her mighty32 arms hanging by her side (she had handed her reticule to the countess). It was only her stern, but comely33 face that danced. What was expressed by the whole round person of the count, was expressed by Marya Dmitryevna in her more and more beaming countenance34 and puckered35 nose. While the count, with greater and greater expenditure36 of energy, enchanted37 the spectators by the unexpectedness of the nimble pirouettes and capers38 of his supple39 legs, Marya Dmitryevna with the slightest effort in the movement of her shoulders or curving of her arms, when they turned or marked the time with their feet, produced no less impression from the contrast, which everyone appreciated, with her portliness and her habitual40 severity of demeanour. The dance grew more and more animated41. The vis-à-vis could not obtain one moment's attention, and did not attempt to do so. All attention was absorbed by the count and Marya Dmitryevna. Natasha pulled at the sleeve or gown of every one present, urging them to look at papa, though they never took their eyes off the dancers. In the pauses in the dance the count drew a deep breath, waved his hands and shouted to the musician to play faster. More and more quickly, more and more nimbly the count pirouetted, turning now on his toes and now on his heels, round Marya Dmitryevna. At last, twisting his lady round to her place, he executed the last steps, kicking his supple legs up behind him, and bowing his perspiring42 head and smiling face, with a round sweep of his right arm, amidst a thunder of applause and laughter, in which Natasha's laugh was loudest. Both partners stood still, breathing heavily, and mopping their faces with their batiste handkerchiefs.
“That's how they used to dance in our day, ma chère, said the count.
“Bravo, Daniel Cooper!” said Marya Dmitryevna, tucking up her sleeves and drawing a deep, prolonged breath.
玩波士顿纸牌的大牌桌摆开了，牌局也都凑成了，伯爵的客人们在两个厅里就座，一间是摆有沙发的休息室，一间是图书室。
伯爵把纸牌铺成扇面形，好不容易才改变午睡的习惯，他对着大家露出一张笑脸。伯爵夫人诱使年轻人聚集在击弦古铜琴和竖琴的近旁。朱莉在大家的请求下头一个用竖琴弹奏了一首变奏短曲，她和其余的女孩一块邀请素以音乐天赋出名的娜塔莎和尼古拉唱一首什么歌。大家像对待大人那样对待娜塔莎，她因此显得十分高傲，但同时有几分胆怯。
“我们唱什么？”她问道。
“《泉水》。”尼古拉答道。
“喂，快点。鲍里斯，到这里来吧，”娜塔莎说道，“索尼娅究竟到哪里去了？”
她向四周环顾，看见她的朋友不在房里，便跑去寻找她了。
娜塔莎跑进索尼娅房里，找不到她的女友，便跑到儿童室去了，那里也没有索尼娅的人影。娜塔莎明白，索尼娅呆在走廊里的箱笼上。走廊里的箱笼是罗斯托夫家年轻妇女们倾吐哀愁的地方。诚然，索尼娅呆在箱笼上，俯卧在保姆那张邋遢的条纹绒毛褥子上，她身上穿的粉红色的薄纱连衣裙都给揉皱了。她用手蒙着脸，哽噎得大声痛哭，赤裸裸的肩膀不住地颤抖。娜塔莎整天价因为过命名日而喜形于色，这时分脸色突然变了，她的视线呆滞不动了，之后她的宽大的脖子颤抖了一下，嘴角松垂下来了。
“索尼娅，你怎么样？……您是怎么回事？呜——鸣——
呜！……”
娜塔莎咧开大嘴哭起来了，样子变得十分难看，她像儿童似地嚎啕大哭，不知为什么，只是因为索尼娅哭泣的缘故。索尼娅想要抬起头来，想回答她的话，可是没法这样办，她把头藏得更深了。娜塔莎哭着，在蓝色的绒毛褥子上坐下，一面拥抱着女友。索尼娅鼓足一股劲，欠起身子，揩掉眼泪，开始述说起来。
“过一个礼拜尼古连卡要去打仗了，他的……公文……下达了……他亲自对我说了……我并不想哭哩……”她让娜塔莎看看她拿在手里的一张纸条，那是尼古拉写的诗句，“我并不想哭哩，可是你没法了解……谁也没法了解……他的心肠多么好啊。”
她于是又哭起来，哭他的心肠太好。
“你觉得挺好……我不妒嫉……我爱你，也爱鲍里斯，”她聚精会神地说道，“他是个可爱的人……对你们毫无妨碍。可是尼古拉是我的表兄……有必要……总主教本人允准……即使那样也不行。而且，若是妈妈（索尼娅认为伯爵夫人是母亲，把她称呼为母亲）……她说我断送尼古拉的锦绣前程，我没有好心眼我忘恩负义，说实话……真的……”她在胸前划了个十字，“我这样爱她，也爱你们大家，唯独薇拉……为什么？我有什么对她过不去呢？我十分感谢你们，我乐于为你们牺牲一切，但是我没有什么可以……”
索尼娅不能再往下说了，又托着头，埋进绒毛褥子里。娜塔莎安静下来了，但是从她的脸色可以看出，她心里明白她朋友的苦衷是何等沉重。
“索尼娅，”她忽然说道，仿佛猜中了表姐伤心的真实原因，“薇拉在午饭后大概对你说过什么话？是吗？”
“是的，尼古拉本人写了这些诗，我还抄了一些别的诗；她在我桌上发现了，还说要把它拿给妈妈看，说我忘恩负义，说妈妈决不会容许他娶我为妻，他要娶朱莉为妻。你看见，他整天价同她在一块吗？……娜塔莎！这是为什么？……”
她又哭了起来，显得比原先更悲伤了。娜搭莎帮助她欠起身来，拥抱她，透过眼泪微露笑容，开始安慰她。
“索尼娅，我亲爱的，不要相信她，不要相信啊。你总还记得我们和尼古拉三人在摆满沙发的休息室里说的话吧，是在晚饭后，你还记得吧？我们不是拿定了主意，把日后的事情划算好了吗？我已经记不清了，可是你总还记得事事都美满，事事都亨通。你看申申叔叔的兄弟娶他的表妹为妻，而我们不就是堂表子妹嘛，鲍里斯也说过完全可以这样做嘛。你知道，什么事我都对他说了。他既聪明，而又善良，”娜塔莎说道……“索尼娅，我亲爱的，你不要哭，索尼娅，我的心肝。”她一面吻她，一面发笑。“薇拉真凶恶，去她的吧！事事都会好起来，她也决不会告诉她妈妈的。尼古拉倒会亲口把话说出来，至于朱莉嘛，他连想也没有想过她。”
她于是吻她的头。索尼娅稍微抬起身子来，那只小猫也活跃起来了，一双小眼睛闪闪发光，它好像就要摇摇尾巴，伸出四双柔软的脚爪霍地跳起来，又要去玩耍线团，好像它适宜于这种游戏似的。
“你是这样想的吗？说的是实在的话？真的？”她说道，一面飞快地弄平连衣裙和头发。
“说实话吗？真的吗？”娜塔莎答道，一面给她的朋友弄平辫子下面露出来的一绺粗硬的头发。
她们二人都笑了起来。
“喂，我们去唱《泉水》这首歌吧。”
“我们去吧。”
“你可知道，坐在我对面的这个胖乎乎的皮埃尔多么滑稽可笑！”娜塔莎停步时忽然说道，“我觉得非常快活！”
娜塔莎于是在走廊里跑起来了。
索尼娅拍掉身上的绒毛，把诗藏在怀里靠近突出的胸骨的脖子旁边，她两颊通红，迈着轻盈而快活的步子，跟在娜塔莎身后沿着走廊向摆满沙发的休息室跑去。年轻人应客人之请唱了一首人人喜欢的四人合唱曲《泉水》之后尼古拉还唱了一首已经背熟的歌曲：
在令人欣悦的晚上，
在皎洁月色映照下，
你想象这该是多么幸福：
有个什么人在这尘世上，
她心中暗自把你思念！
她那秀丽的巧手
拨弄着金色的竖琴，
竖琴激越的和音
把你召唤
召唤到身边！
还有一两天，
幸福的生活就要来临……
唉，你的朋友
活不到那么一天！
他还没有唱完最后一句歌词，青年人就在大厅里准备跳舞，乐师们按照霍拉舞曲的节奏，把脚儿跺得咚咚响，这时传来他们的咳嗽声。
皮埃尔坐在客厅里，申申和这个从外国归来的皮埃尔谈论起使他觉得索然无味的政治范畴的事情，还有其他几个人也和他们攀谈起来，当乐队开始奏乐时，娜塔莎步入客厅，她向皮埃尔身边径直地走去，两脸通红，含笑地说道：“妈妈吩咐我请您去跳舞。”
“我怕会搞乱了舞步，”皮埃尔说道，“不过，假如您愿意当我的老师……”
于是他低低地垂下他那只肥胖的手，递给苗条的少女。
当一对对男女拉开距离站着、乐师正在调音律时，皮埃尔和他的小舞伴一同坐下来。娜塔莎觉得非常幸福：她和国外回来的大人跳过舞了。她在大家眼前坐着，像大人那样和他交谈。她手里拿着一把折扇，一位小姐让她拿去扇扇的。她装出一副地道的交际花的姿态（天知道她是何时何地学到的本领），她扇扇子，隔着折扇露出微笑，和她的舞伴交谈。
“她是啥模样？她是啥模样？你们看吧，你们看吧。”老伯爵夫人走过大厅，用手指着娜塔莎，说道。
娜塔莎两颊通红，笑了起来。
“妈妈，怎么啦？您何苦呢？这有什么奇怪的呢？”
第三节苏格兰民间舞曲奏到半中间时，客厅里的坐椅被移动了，伯爵和玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜、大部分贵宾和老年人都在这里打纸牌，他们久坐之后伸伸懒腰，把皮夹和钱包放进衣袋里，一个个向大厅走去。玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜随同伯爵走在最前面，二人都现出喜悦的神色。伯爵诙谐地装出拘礼的样子，有点像跳芭蕾舞似的，把他那圆圆的手臂伸给玛丽亚·德米特罗耶夫娜。他挺直身子，神采奕奕，流露出特别洒脱的机智的微笑。一跳完苏格兰民间舞，他就向乐师击掌，面对第一提琴手，向那合唱队吼叫：
“谢苗！你熟悉《丹尼拉·库波尔》么？”
这是伯爵青年时代喜欢跳的一种舞蹈。（《丹尼拉·库波尔》其实是英吉利兹舞的一节。）
“瞧我爸爸吧。”娜塔莎朝着整个大厅嚷道（根本忘记了她在和大人一同跳舞），她把长有鬈发的头向膝盖微微垂下，非常洪亮的笑声响彻了厅堂。
诚然，大厅里的人都含着欢快的微笑打量那个愉快的老人，一个比他高大的显赫的女士——玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜站在他身旁，他那手臂蜷曲成圆形，合着拍子摇晃着，舒展开双肩，两脚向外撇开，轻盈地踏着拍子，他圆滚滚的脸上越来越眉开眼笑，让观众准备欣赏将要出现的场景。一当听见欢快的、引人入胜的、与快乐的《特烈帕克》舞曲相似的《丹尼拉·库波尔》舞曲，大厅的几个门口蓦然堆满了家仆的笑脸，一旁是男仆，一旁是女仆，他们都出来观看尽情作乐的老爷。
“我们的老爷！真是苍鹰啊！”保姆从一道门口高声地说道。
伯爵跳得很棒，而且心中有数，不过他的女舞伴根本不擅长跳舞，她也不想把舞跳好。她那硕大的身段笔直地站着，把两只强而有力的手臂低垂下去（她把女式手提包转交给伯爵夫人），只有她那副严肃、但却俊美的面孔在跳舞。伯爵的整个浑圆的身体是他外表上的特点，而越来越显得愉快的眉开眼笑的脸庞和向上翘起的鼻孔却是玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜的外貌特征。如果认为，伯爵跳得越来越痛快，他那出乎意料的灵活转动和脚步从容的轻盈跳跃会使观众心神向往，那末，玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜在转身或踏拍子时，肩膀一动或者手臂一卷曲，就可轻而易举地产生同样良好的印象；虽然她的身躯过分地肥胖，态度素来严厉，每个观众仍然赞赏不已。舞跳得愈益热闹了。他们对面的别的舞伴一刻也没有引起观众的注意，而且也不介意这件事。伯爵和玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜吸引着全体的注意力。在场的人们本来就目不转睛地望着跳舞的伴侣，可是娜塔莎却拉拉这个人袖子，扯扯那个人的连衣裙，要大家都来看看她爸爸。跳舞暂停时，伯爵吃力地喘气，向乐师们挥手喊叫，要他们快点奏乐。伯爵围绕着玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜疾速地旋转，时而把脚尖踮起，时而把脚跟跺地，越来越矫捷，越来越勇猛，终于把舞伴领到她的坐位上，他把一只脚向后磴起来，低垂淌着热汗的头，这样才跳完了最后一个舞步，在洪亮的掌声和笑声中，尤其是在娜塔莎的哈哈大笑声中，他用右手挥动一下，腾空画了一个圆圈。两个跳舞的人停步了，吃力地喘气，用麻纱手巾揩汗。
“我们那个时代就是这样跳舞啊，machère，”①伯爵说道。
“《丹尼拉·库波尔》真不错！”玛丽亚·德米特罗耶夫娜卷起袖子，久久地、吃力地喘气，说道。
①法语：老大娘。
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clavichord
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| n.（敲弦）古钢琴 | |
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harp
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| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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gossamer
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| n.薄纱，游丝 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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festive
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| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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passionate
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| 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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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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muddling
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| v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的现在分词 )；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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tuning
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| n.调谐，调整，调音v.调音( tune的现在分词 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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modish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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hoop
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| n.（篮球）篮圈，篮 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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puckered
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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expenditure
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| n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出；使用，消耗 | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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capers
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| n.开玩笑( caper的名词复数 )；刺山柑v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的第三人称单数 ) | |
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supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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