AMHERST could never afterward1 regain2 a detailed3 impression of the weeks that followed. They lived in his memory chiefly as exponents4 of the unforeseen, nothing he had looked for having come to pass in the way or at the time expected; while the whole movement of life was like the noon-day flow of a river, in which the separate ripples6 of brightness are all merged7 in one blinding glitter. His recurring8 conferences with Mrs. Westmore formed, as it were, the small surprising kernel9 of fact about which sensations gathered and grew with the swift ripening11 of a magician's fruit. That she should remain on at Hanaford to look into the condition of the mills did not, in itself, seem surprising to Amherst; for his short phase of doubt had been succeeded by an abundant inflow of faith in her intentions. It satisfied his inner craving12 for harmony that her face and spirit should, after all, so corroborate13 and complete each other; that it needed no moral sophistry14 to adjust her acts to her appearance, her words to the promise of her smile. But her immediate15 confidence in him, her resolve to support him in his avowed16 insubordination, to ignore, with the royal license17 of her sex, all that was irregular and inexpedient in asking his guidance while the whole official strength of the company darkened the background with a gathering18 storm of disapproval--this sense of being the glove flung by her hand in the face of convention, quickened astonishingly the flow of Amherst's sensations. It was as though a mountain-climber, braced19 to the strain of a hard ascent20, should suddenly see the way break into roses, and level itself in a path for his feet.
On his second visit he found the two ladies together, and Mrs. Ansell's smile of approval seemed to cast a social sanction on the episode, to classify it as comfortably usual and unimportant. He could see that her friend's manner put Bessy at ease, helping21 her to ask her own questions, and to reflect on his suggestions, with less bewilderment and more self-confidence. Mrs. Ansell had the faculty22 of restoring to her the belief in her reasoning powers that her father could dissolve in a monosyllable.
The talk, on this occasion, had turned mainly on the future of the Dillon family, on the best means of compensating23 for the accident, and, incidentally, on the care of the young children of the mill-colony. Though Amherst did not believe in the extremer forms of industrial paternalism, he was yet of opinion that, where married women were employed, the employer should care for their children. He had been gradually, and somewhat reluctantly, brought to this conviction by the many instances of unavoidable neglect and suffering among the children of the women-workers at Westmore; and Mrs. Westmore took up the scheme with all the ardour of her young motherliness, quivering at the thought of hungry or ailing24 children while her Cicely, leaning a silken head against her, lifted puzzled eyes to her face.
On the larger problems of the case it was less easy to fix Bessy's attention; but Amherst was far from being one of the extreme theorists who reject temporary remedies lest they defer25 the day of general renewal26, and since he looked on every gain in the material condition of the mill-hands as a step in their moral growth, he was quite willing to hold back his fundamental plans while he discussed the establishment of a nursery, and of a night-school for the boys in the mills.
The third time he called, he found Mr. Langhope and Mr. Halford Gaines of the company. The President of the Westmore mills was a trim middle-sized man, whose high pink varnish27 of good living would have turned to purple could he have known Mr. Langhope's opinion of his jewelled shirt-front and the padded shoulders of his evening-coat. Happily he had no inkling of these views, and was fortified28 in his command of the situation by an unimpaired confidence in his own appearance; while Mr. Langhope, discreetly29 withdrawn30 behind a veil of cigar-smoke, let his silence play like a fine criticism over the various phases of the discussion.
It was a surprise to Amherst to find himself in Mr. Gaines's presence. The President, secluded31 in his high office, seldom visited the mills, and when there showed no consciousness of any presence lower than Truscomb's; and Amherst's first thought was that, in the manager's enforced absence, he was to be called to account by the head of the firm. But he was affably welcomed by Mr. Gaines, who made it clear that his ostensible32 purpose in coming was to hear Amherst's views as to the proposed night-schools and nursery. These were pointedly33 alluded35 to as Mrs. Westmore's projects, and the young man was made to feel that he was merely called in as a temporary adviser37 in Truscomb's absence. This was, in fact, the position Amherst preferred to take, and he scrupulously38 restricted himself to the answering of questions, letting Mrs. Westmore unfold his plans as though they had been her own. "It is much better," he reflected, "that they should all think so, and she too, for Truscomb will be on his legs again in a day or two, and then my hours will be numbered."
Meanwhile he was surprised to find Mr. Gaines oddly amenable39 to the proposed innovations, which he appeared to regard as new fashions in mill-management, to be adopted for the same cogent40 reasons as a new cut in coat-tails.
"Of course we want to be up-to-date--there's no reason why the Westmore mills shouldn't do as well by their people as any mills in the country," he affirmed, in the tone of the entertainer accustomed to say: "I want the thing done handsomely." But he seemed even less conscious than Mrs. Westmore that each particular wrong could be traced back to a radical41 vice42 in the system. He appeared to think that every murmur43 of assent44 to her proposals passed the sponge, once for all, over the difficulty propounded45: as though a problem in algebra46 should be solved by wiping it off the blackboard.
"My dear Bessy, we all owe you a debt of gratitude47 for coming here, and bringing, so to speak, a fresh eye to bear on the subject. If I've been, perhaps, a little too exclusively absorbed in making the mills profitable, my friend Langhope will, I believe, not be the first to--er--cast a stone at me." Mr. Gaines, who was the soul of delicacy48, stumbled a little over the awkward associations connected with this figure, but, picking himself up, hastened on to affirm: "And in that respect, I think we can challenge comparison with any industry in the state; but I am the first to admit that there may be another side, a side that it takes a woman--a mother--to see. For instance," he threw in jocosely49, "I flatter myself that I know how to order a good dinner; but I always leave the flowers to my wife. And if you'll permit me to say so," he went on, encouraged by the felicity of his image, "I believe it will produce a most pleasing effect--not only on the operatives themselves, but on the whole of Hanaford--on our own set of people especially--to have you come here and interest yourself in the--er--philanthropic side of the work."
Bessy coloured a little. She blushed easily, and was perhaps not over-discriminating as to the quality of praise received; but under her ripple5 of pleasure a stronger feeling stirred, and she said hastily: "I am afraid I never should have thought of these things if Mr. Amherst had not pointed34 them out to me."
Mr. Gaines met this blandly50. "Very gratifying to Mr. Amherst to have you put it in that way; and I am sure we all appreciate his valuable hints. Truscomb himself could not have been more helpful, though his larger experience will no doubt be useful later on, in developing and--er--modifying your plans."
It was difficult to reconcile this large view of the moral issue with the existence of abuses which made the management of the Westmore mills as unpleasantly notorious in one section of the community as it was agreeably notable in another. But Amherst was impartial51 enough to see that Mr. Gaines was unconscious of the incongruities52 of the situation. He left the reconciling of incompatibles to Truscomb with the simple faith of the believer committing a like task to his maker53: it was in the manager's mind that the dark processes of adjustment took place. Mr. Gaines cultivated the convenient and popular idea that by ignoring wrongs one is not so much condoning54 as actually denying their existence; and in pursuance of this belief he devoutly55 abstained56 from studying the conditions at Westmore.
A farther surprise awaited Amherst when Truscomb reappeared in the office. The manager was always a man of few words; and for the first days his intercourse57 with his assistant was restricted to asking questions and issuing orders. Soon afterward, it became known that Dillon's arm was to be amputated, and that afternoon Truscomb was summoned to see Mrs. Westmore. When he returned he sent for Amherst; and the young man felt sure that his hour had come.
He was at dinner when the message reached him, and he knew from the tightening58 of his mother's lips that she too interpreted it in the same way. He was glad that Duplain's presence kept her from speaking her fears; and he thanked her inwardly for the smile with which she watched him go.
That evening, when he returned, the smile was still at its post; but it dropped away wearily as he said, with his hands on her shoulders: "Don't worry, mother; I don't know exactly what's happening, but we're not blacklisted yet."
Mrs. Amherst had immediately taken up her work, letting her nervous tension find its usual escape through her finger-tips. Her needles flagged as she lifted her eyes to his.
"Something _is_ happening, then?" she murmured.
"Oh, a number of things, evidently--but though I'm in the heart of them, I can't yet make out how they are going to affect me."
His mother's glance twinkled in time with the flash of her needles. "There's always a safe place in the heart of a storm," she said shrewdly; and Amherst rejoined with a laugh: "Well, if it's Truscomb's heart, I don't know that it's particularly safe for me."
"Tell me just what he said, John," she begged, making no attempt to carry the pleasantry farther, though its possibilities still seemed to flicker59 about her lip; and Amherst proceeded to recount his talk with the manager.
Truscomb, it appeared, had made no allusion60 to Dillon; his avowed purpose in summoning his assistant had been to discuss with the latter the question of the proposed nursery and schools. Mrs. Westmore, at Amherst's suggestion, had presented these projects as her own; but the question of a site having come up, she had mentioned to Truscomb his assistant's proposal that the company should buy for the purpose the notorious Eldorado. The road-house in question had always been one of the most destructive influences in the mill-colony, and Amherst had made one or two indirect attempts to have the building converted to other uses; but the persistent61 opposition62 he encountered gave colour to the popular report that the manager took a high toll63 from the landlord.
It therefore at once occurred to Amherst to suggest the purchase of the property to Mrs. Westmore; and he was not surprised to find that Truscomb's opposition to the scheme centred in the choice of the building. But even at this point the manager betrayed no open resistance; he seemed tacitly to admit Amherst's right to discuss the proposed plans, and even to be consulted concerning the choice of a site. He was ready with a dozen good reasons against the purchase of the road-house; but here also he proceeded with a discretion64 unexampled in his dealings with his subordinates. He acknowledged the harm done by the dance-hall, but objected that he could not conscientiously65 advise the company to pay the extortionate price at which it was held, and reminded Amherst that, if that particular source of offense66 were removed, others would inevitably67 spring up to replace it; marshalling the usual temporizing68 arguments of tolerance69 and expediency70, with no marked change from his usual tone, till, just as the interview was ending, he asked, with a sudden drop to conciliation71, if the assistant manager had anything to complain of in the treatment he received.
This came as such a surprise to Amherst that before he had collected himself he found Truscomb ambiguously but unmistakably offering him--with the practised indirection of the man accustomed to cover his share in such transactions--a substantial "consideration" for dropping the matter of the road-house. It was incredible, yet it had really happened: the all-powerful Truscomb, who held Westmore in the hollow of his hand, had stooped to bribing72 his assistant because he was afraid to deal with him in a more summary manner. Amherst's leap of anger at the offer was curbed73 by the instant perception of its cause. He had no time to search for a reason; he could only rally himself to meet the unintelligible74 with a composure as abysmal75 as Truscomb's; and his voice still rang with the wonder of the incident as he retailed76 it to his mother.
"Think of what it means, mother, for a young woman like Mrs. Westmore, without any experience or any habit of authority, to come here, and at the first glimpse of injustice77, to be so revolted that she finds the courage and cleverness to put her little hand to the machine and reverse the engines--for it's nothing less that she's done! Oh, I know there'll be a reaction--the pendulum's sure to swing back: but you'll see it won't swing _as far_. Of course I shall go in the end--but Truscomb may go too: Jove, if I could pull him down on me, like what's-his-name and the pillars of the temple!"
He had risen and was measuring the little sitting-room78 with his long strides, his head flung back and his eyes dark with the inward look his mother had not always cared to see there. But now her own glance seemed to have caught a ray from his, and the knitting flowed from her hands like the thread of fate, as she sat silent, letting him exhale79 his hopes and his wonder, and murmuring only, when he dropped again to the chair at her side: "You won't go, Johnny--you won't go."
* * * * *
Mrs. Westmore lingered on for over two weeks, and during that time Amherst was able, in various directions, to develop her interest in the mill-workers. His own schemes involved a complete readjustment of the relation between the company and the hands: the suppression of the obsolete80 company "store" and tenements81, which had so long sapped the thrift82 and ambition of the workers; the transformation83 of the Hopewood grounds into a park and athletic84 field, and the division of its remaining acres into building lots for the mill-hands; the establishing of a library, a dispensary and emergency hospital, and various other centres of humanizing influence; but he refrained from letting her see that his present suggestion was only a part of this larger plan, lest her growing sympathy should be checked. He had in his mother an example of the mind accessible only to concrete impressions: the mind which could die for the particular instance, yet remain serenely85 indifferent to its causes. To Mrs. Amherst, her son's work had been interesting simply because it _was_ his work: remove his presence from Westmore, and the whole industrial problem became to her as non-existent as star-dust to the naked eye. And in Bessy Westmore he divined a nature of the same quality--divined, but no longer criticized it. Was not that concentration on the personal issue just the compensating grace of her sex? Did it not offer a warm tint86 of human inconsistency to eyes chilled by contemplating87 life in the mass? It pleased Amherst for the moment to class himself with the impersonal88 student of social problems, though in truth his interest in them had its source in an imagination as open as Bessy's to the pathos89 of the personal appeal. But if he had the same sensitiveness, how inferior were his means of expressing it! Again and again, during their talks, he had the feeling which had come to him when she bent90 over Dillon's bed--that her exquisite91 lines were, in some mystical sense, the visible flowering of her nature, that they had taken shape in response to the inward motions of the heart.
To a young man ruled by high enthusiasms there can be no more dazzling adventure than to work this miracle in the tender creature who yields her mind to his--to see, as it were, the blossoming of the spiritual seed in forms of heightened loveliness, the bluer beam of the eye, the richer curve of the lip, all the physical currents of life quickening under the breath of a kindled92 thought. It did not occur to him that any other emotion had effected the change he perceived. Bessy Westmore had in full measure that gift of unconscious hypocrisy93 which enables a woman to make the man in whom she is interested believe that she enters into all his thoughts. She had--more than this--the gift of self-deception, supreme94 happiness of the unreflecting nature, whereby she was able to believe herself solely95 engrossed96 in the subjects they discussed, to regard him as the mere36 spokesman of important ideas, thus saving their intercourse from present constraint97, and from the awkward contemplation of future contingencies98. So, in obedience99 to the ancient sorcery of life, these two groped for and found each other in regions seemingly so remote from the accredited100 domain101 of romance that it would have been as a great surprise to them to learn whither they had strayed as to see the arid102 streets of Westmore suddenly bursting into leaf.
With Mrs. Westmore's departure Amherst, for the first time, became aware of a certain flatness in his life. His daily task seemed dull and purposeless, and he was galled103 by Truscomb's studied forbearance, under which he suspected a quickly accumulating store of animosity. He almost longed for some collision which would release the manager's pent-up resentment104; yet he dreaded105 increasingly any accident that might make his stay at Westmore impossible.
It was on Sundays, when he was freed from his weekly task, that he was most at the mercy of these opposing feelings. They drove him forth106 on long solitary107 walks beyond the town, walks ending most often in the deserted108 grounds of Hopewood, beautiful now in the ruined gold of October. As he sat under the beech-limbs above the river, watching its brown current sweep the willow-roots of the banks, he thought how this same current, within its next short reach, passed from wooded seclusion109 to the noise and pollution of the mills. So his own life seemed to have passed once more from the tranced flow of the last weeks into its old channel of unillumined labour. But other thoughts came to him too: the vision of converting that melancholy110 pleasure-ground into an outlet111 for the cramped112 lives of the mill-workers; and he pictured the weed-grown lawns and paths thronged113 with holiday-makers, and the slopes nearer the factories dotted with houses and gardens.
An unexpected event revived these hopes. A few days before Christmas it became known to Hanaford that Mrs. Westmore would return for the holidays. Cicely was drooping114 in town air, and Bessy had persuaded Mr. Langhope that the bracing115 cold of Hanaford would be better for the child than the milder atmosphere of Long Island. They reappeared, and brought with them a breath of holiday cheerfulness such as Westmore had never known. It had always been the rule at the mills to let the operatives take their pleasure as they saw fit, and the Eldorado and the Hanaford saloons throve on this policy. But Mrs. Westmore arrived full of festal projects. There was to be a giant Christmas tree for the mill-children, a supper on the same scale for the operatives, and a bout10 of skating and coasting at Hopewood for the older lads--the "band" and "bobbin" boys in whom Amherst had always felt a special interest. The Gaines ladies, resolved to show themselves at home in the latest philanthropic fashions, actively116 seconded Bessy's endeavours, and for a week Westmore basked117 under a sudden heat-wave of beneficence.
The time had passed when Amherst might have made light of such efforts. With Bessy Westmore smiling up, holly-laden, from the foot of the ladder on which she kept him perched, how could he question the efficacy of hanging the opening-room with Christmas wreaths, or the ultimate benefit of gorging118 the operatives with turkey and sheathing119 their offspring in red mittens120? It was just like the end of a story-book with a pretty moral, and Amherst was in the mood to be as much taken by the tinsel as the youngest mill-baby held up to gape121 at the tree.
At the New Year, when Mrs. Westmore left, the negotiations122 for the purchase of the Eldorado were well advanced, and it was understood that on their completion she was to return for the opening of the night-school and nursery. Suddenly, however, it became known that the proprietor123 of the road-house had decided124 not to sell. Amherst heard of the decision from Duplain, and at once foresaw the inevitable125 result--that Mrs. Westmore's plan would be given up owing to the difficulty of finding another site. Mr. Gaines and Truscomb had both discountenanced the erection of a special building for what was, after all, only a tentative enterprise. Among the purchasable houses in Westmore no other was suited to the purpose, and they had, therefore, a good excuse for advising Bessy to defer her experiment.
Almost at the same time, however, another piece of news changed the aspect of affairs. A scandalous occurrence at the Eldorado, witnesses to which were unexpectedly forthcoming, put it in Amherst's power to threaten the landlord with exposure unless he should at once accept the company's offer and withdraw from Westmore. Amherst had no long time to consider the best means of putting this threat into effect. He knew it was not only idle to appeal to Truscomb, but essential to keep the facts from him till the deed was done; yet how obtain the authority to act without him? The seemingly insuperable difficulties of the situation whetted126 Amherst's craving for a struggle. He thought first of writing to Mrs. Westmore;, but now that the spell of her presence was withdrawn he felt how hard it would be to make her understand the need of prompt and secret action; and besides, was it likely that, at such short notice, she could command the needful funds? Prudence127 opposed the attempt, and on reflection he decided to appeal to Mr. Gaines, hoping that the flagrancy of the case would rouse the President from his usual attitude of indifference128.
Mr. Gaines was roused to the extent of showing a profound resentment against the cause of his disturbance129. He relieved his sense of responsibility by some didactic remarks on the vicious tendencies of the working-classes, and concluded with the reflection that the more you did for them the less thanks you got. But when Amherst showed an unwillingness130 to let the matter rest on this time-honoured aphorism131, the President retrenched132 himself behind ambiguities133, suggestions that they should await Mrs. Westmore's return, and general considerations of a pessimistic nature, tapering134 off into a gloomy view of the weather.
"By God, I'll write to her!" Amherst exclaimed, as the Gaines portals closed on him; and all the way back to Westmore he was busy marshalling his arguments and entreaties135.
He wrote the letter that night, but did not post it. Some unavowed distrust of her restrained him--a distrust not of her heart but of her intelligence. He felt that the whole future of Westmore was at stake, and decided to await the development of the next twenty-four hours. The letter was still in his pocket when, after dinner, he was summoned to the office by Truscomb.
That evening, when he returned home, he entered the little sitting-room without speaking. His mother sat there alone, in her usual place--how many nights he had seen the lamplight slant136 at that particular angle across her fresh cheek and the fine wrinkles about her eyes! He was going to add another wrinkle to the number now--soon they would creep down and encroach upon the smoothness of the cheek.
She looked up and saw that his glance was turned to the crowded bookshelves behind her.
"There must be nearly a thousand of them," he said as their eyes met.
"Books? Yes--with your father's. Why--were you thinking...?" She started up suddenly and crossed over to him.
"Too many for wanderers," he continued, drawing her hands to his breast; then, as she clung to him, weeping and trembling a little: "It had to be, mother," he said, kissing her penitently137 where the fine wrinkles died into the cheek.
1 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 regain | |
vt.重新获得,收复,恢复 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 detailed | |
adj.详细的,详尽的,极注意细节的,完全的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 exponents | |
n.倡导者( exponent的名词复数 );说明者;指数;能手 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 ripple | |
n.涟波,涟漪,波纹,粗钢梳;vt.使...起涟漪,使起波纹; vi.呈波浪状,起伏前进 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 ripples | |
逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 merged | |
(使)混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 ); 相融; 融入; 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 recurring | |
adj.往复的,再次发生的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 kernel | |
n.(果实的)核,仁;(问题)的中心,核心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 bout | |
n.侵袭,发作;一次(阵,回);拳击等比赛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 ripening | |
v.成熟,使熟( ripen的现在分词 );熟化;熟成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 craving | |
n.渴望,热望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 corroborate | |
v.支持,证实,确定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 sophistry | |
n.诡辩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 avowed | |
adj.公开声明的,承认的v.公开声明,承认( avow的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 license | |
n.执照,许可证,特许;v.许可,特许 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 braced | |
adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 );撑牢;使自己站稳;振作起来 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 ascent | |
n.(声望或地位)提高;上升,升高;登高 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 helping | |
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 faculty | |
n.才能;学院,系;(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 compensating | |
补偿,补助,修正 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 ailing | |
v.生病 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 defer | |
vt.推迟,拖延;vi.(to)遵从,听从,服从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 renewal | |
adj.(契约)延期,续订,更新,复活,重来 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 varnish | |
n.清漆;v.上清漆;粉饰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 fortified | |
adj. 加强的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 discreetly | |
ad.(言行)审慎地,慎重地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 withdrawn | |
vt.收回;使退出;vi.撤退,退出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 secluded | |
adj.与世隔绝的;隐退的;偏僻的v.使隔开,使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 ostensible | |
adj.(指理由)表面的,假装的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 pointedly | |
adv.尖地,明显地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 alluded | |
提及,暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 adviser | |
n.劝告者,顾问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 scrupulously | |
adv.一丝不苟地;小心翼翼地,多顾虑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 amenable | |
adj.经得起检验的;顺从的;对负有义务的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 cogent | |
adj.强有力的,有说服力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 radical | |
n.激进份子,原子团,根号;adj.根本的,激进的,彻底的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 vice | |
n.坏事;恶习;[pl.]台钳,老虎钳;adj.副的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 assent | |
v.批准,认可;n.批准,认可 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 propounded | |
v.提出(问题、计划等)供考虑[讨论],提议( propound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 algebra | |
n.代数学 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 delicacy | |
n.精致,细微,微妙,精良;美味,佳肴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 jocosely | |
adv.说玩笑地,诙谐地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 blandly | |
adv.温和地,殷勤地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 impartial | |
adj.(in,to)公正的,无偏见的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 incongruities | |
n.不协调( incongruity的名词复数 );不一致;不适合;不协调的东西 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 maker | |
n.制造者,制造商 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 condoning | |
v.容忍,宽恕,原谅( condone的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 devoutly | |
adv.虔诚地,虔敬地,衷心地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 abstained | |
v.戒(尤指酒),戒除( abstain的过去式和过去分词 );弃权(不投票) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 intercourse | |
n.性交;交流,交往,交际 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 tightening | |
上紧,固定,紧密 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 flicker | |
vi./n.闪烁,摇曳,闪现 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 allusion | |
n.暗示,间接提示 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 persistent | |
adj.坚持不懈的,执意的;持续的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 opposition | |
n.反对,敌对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 toll | |
n.过路(桥)费;损失,伤亡人数;v.敲(钟) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 discretion | |
n.谨慎;随意处理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 conscientiously | |
adv.凭良心地;认真地,负责尽职地;老老实实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 offense | |
n.犯规,违法行为;冒犯,得罪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 inevitably | |
adv.不可避免地;必然发生地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 temporizing | |
v.敷衍( temporize的现在分词 );拖延;顺应时势;暂时同意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 tolerance | |
n.宽容;容忍,忍受;耐药力;公差 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 expediency | |
n.适宜;方便;合算;利己 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 conciliation | |
n.调解,调停 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 bribing | |
贿赂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 curbed | |
v.限制,克制,抑制( curb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 unintelligible | |
adj.无法了解的,难解的,莫明其妙的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 abysmal | |
adj.无底的,深不可测的,极深的;糟透的,极坏的;完全的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 retailed | |
vt.零售(retail的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 injustice | |
n.非正义,不公正,不公平,侵犯(别人的)权利 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 sitting-room | |
n.(BrE)客厅,起居室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 exhale | |
v.呼气,散出,吐出,蒸发 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 obsolete | |
adj.已废弃的,过时的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 tenements | |
n.房屋,住户,租房子( tenement的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 thrift | |
adj.节约,节俭;n.节俭,节约 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 transformation | |
n.变化;改造;转变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 athletic | |
adj.擅长运动的,强健的;活跃的,体格健壮的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 serenely | |
adv.安详地,宁静地,平静地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 tint | |
n.淡色,浅色;染发剂;vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 contemplating | |
深思,细想,仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 ); 注视,凝视; 考虑接受(发生某事的可能性); 深思熟虑,沉思,苦思冥想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 impersonal | |
adj.无个人感情的,与个人无关的,非人称的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 pathos | |
n.哀婉,悲怆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 kindled | |
(使某物)燃烧,着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 ); 激起(感情等); 发亮,放光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 hypocrisy | |
n.伪善,虚伪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 solely | |
adv.仅仅,唯一地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 engrossed | |
adj.全神贯注的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 constraint | |
n.(on)约束,限制;限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 contingencies | |
n.偶然发生的事故,意外事故( contingency的名词复数 );以备万一 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 accredited | |
adj.可接受的;可信任的;公认的;质量合格的v.相信( accredit的过去式和过去分词 );委托;委任;把…归结于 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 domain | |
n.(活动等)领域,范围;领地,势力范围 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 arid | |
adj.干旱的;(土地)贫瘠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 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: |
|
|
104 resentment | |
n.怨愤,忿恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 dreaded | |
adj.令人畏惧的;害怕的v.害怕,恐惧,担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 seclusion | |
n.隐遁,隔离 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 outlet | |
n.出口/路;销路;批发商店;通风口;发泄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 cramped | |
a.狭窄的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 thronged | |
v.成群,挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 drooping | |
adj. 下垂的,无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 bracing | |
adj.令人振奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 actively | |
adv.积极地,勤奋地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 basked | |
v.晒太阳,取暖( bask的过去式和过去分词 );对…感到乐趣;因他人的功绩而出名;仰仗…的余泽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 gorging | |
v.(用食物把自己)塞饱,填饱( gorge的现在分词 );作呕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 sheathing | |
n.覆盖物,罩子v.将(刀、剑等)插入鞘( sheathe的现在分词 );包,覆盖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 mittens | |
不分指手套 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 gape | |
v.张口,打呵欠,目瞪口呆地凝视 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 negotiations | |
协商( negotiation的名词复数 ); 谈判; 完成(难事); 通过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 proprietor | |
n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 whetted | |
v.(在石头上)磨(刀、斧等)( whet的过去式和过去分词 );引起,刺激(食欲、欲望、兴趣等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 prudence | |
n.谨慎,精明,节俭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 indifference | |
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 disturbance | |
n.动乱,骚动;打扰,干扰;(身心)失调 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 unwillingness | |
n. 不愿意,不情愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 aphorism | |
n.格言,警语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 retrenched | |
v.紧缩开支( retrench的过去式和过去分词 );削减(费用);节省 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 ambiguities | |
n.歧义( ambiguity的名词复数 );意义不明确;模棱两可的意思;模棱两可的话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 tapering | |
adj.尖端细的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 entreaties | |
n.恳求,乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 slant | |
v.倾斜,倾向性地编写或报道;n.斜面,倾向 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 penitently | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |