Touching1 the First Days of Her Probation2
The result of her sleeping was, that Diana’s humour, locked up overnight, insisted on an excursion, as she lay with half-buried head and open eyelids3, thinking of the firm of lawyers she had to see; and to whom, and to the legal profession generally, she would be, under outward courtesies, nothing other than ‘the woman Warwick.’ She pursued the woman Warwick unmercifully through a series of interviews with her decorous and crudely-minded defenders4; accurately5 perusing6 them behind their senior staidness. Her scorching7 sensitiveness sharpened her intelligence in regard to the estimate of discarded wives entertained by men of business and plain men of the world, and she drove the woman Warwick down their ranks, amazed by the vision of a puppet so unlike to herself in reality, though identical in situation. That woman, reciting her side of the case, gained a gradual resemblance to Danvers; she spoke8 primly9; perpetually the creature aired her handkerchief; she was bent10 on softening11 those sugarloaves, the hard business-men applying to her for facts. Facts were treated as unworthy of her; mere12 stuff of the dustheap, mutton-bones, old shoes; she swam above them in a cocoon13 of her spinning, sylphidine, unseizable; and between perplexing and mollifying the slaves of facts, she saw them at their heels, a tearful fry, abjectly14 imitative of her melodramatic performances. The spectacle was presented of a band of legal gentlemen vociferating mightily15 for swords and the onset16, like the Austrian empress’s Magyars, to vindicate17 her just and holy cause. Our Law-courts failing, they threatened Parliament, and for a last resort, the country! We are not going to be the woman Warwick without a stir, my brethren.
Emma, an early riser that morning, for the purpose of a private consultation18 with Mr. Redworth, found her lying placidly19 wakeful, to judge by appearances.
‘You have not slept, my dear child?’
‘Perfectly,’ said Diana, giving her hand and offering the lips. ‘I’m only having a warm morning bath in bed,’ she added, in explanation of a chill moisture that the touch of her exposed skin betrayed; for whatever the fun of the woman Warwick, there had been sympathetic feminine horrors in the frame of the sentient20 woman.
Emma fancied she kissed a quiet sufferer. A few remarks very soon set her wildly laughing. Both were laughing when Danvers entered the room, rather guilty, being late; and the sight of the prim-visaged maid she had been driving among the lawyers kindled21 Diana’s comic imagination to such a pitch that she ran riot in drolleries, carrying her friend headlong on the tide.
‘I have not laughed so much since you were married,’ said Emma.
‘Nor I, dear; proving that the bar to it was the ceremony,’ said Diana.
She promised to remain at Copsley three days. ‘Then for the campaign in Mr. Redworth’s metropolis22. I wonder whether I may ask him to get me lodgings23: a sitting-room24 and two bedrooms. The Crossways has a board up for letting. I should prefer to be my own tenant25; only it would give me a hundred pounds more to get a substitute’s money. I should like to be at work writing instantly. Ink is my opium26, and the pen my nigger, and he must dig up gold for me. It is written. Danvers, you can make ready to dress me when I ring.’
Emma helped the beautiful woman to her dressing-gown and the step from her bed. She had her thoughts, and went down to Redworth at the breakfast-table, marvelling27 that any husband other than a madman could cast such a jewel away. The material loveliness eclipses intellectual qualities in such reflections.
‘He must be mad,’ she said, compelled to disburden herself in a congenial atmosphere; which, however, she infrigidated by her overflow28 of exclamatory wonderment—a curtain that shook voluminous folds, luring29 Redworth to dreams of the treasure forfeited30. He became rigidly31 practical.
‘Provision will have to be made for her. Lukin must see Mr. Warwick. She will do wisely to stay with friends in town, mix in company. Women are the best allies for such cases. Who are her solicitors32?’
‘They are mine: Braddock, Thorpe, and Simnel.’
‘A good firm. She is in safe hands with them. I dare say they may come to an arrangement.’
‘I should wish it. She will never consent.’
Redworth shrugged33. A woman’s ‘never’ fell far short of outstripping34 the sturdy pedestrian Time, to his mind.
Diana saw him drive off to catch the coach in the valley, regulated to meet the train, and much though she liked him, she was not sorry that he had gone. She felt the better clad for it. She would have rejoiced to witness the departure on wings of all her friends, except Emma, to whom her coldness overnight had bound her anew warmly in contrition35. And yet her friends were well-beloved by her; but her emotions were distraught.
Emma told her that Mr. Redworth had undertaken to hire a suite36 of convenient rooms, and to these she looked forward, the nest among strangers, where she could begin to write, earning bread: an idea that, with the pride of independence, conjured37 the pleasant morning smell of a bakery about her.
She passed three peaceable days at Copsley, at war only with the luxury of the house. On the fourth, a letter to Lady Dunstane from Redworth gave the address of the best lodgings he could find, and Diana started for London.
She had during a couple of weeks, besides the first fresh exercising of her pen, as well as the severe gratification of economy, a savage38 exultation39 in passing through the streets on foot and unknown. Save for the plunges40 into the office of her solicitors, she could seem to herself a woman who had never submitted to the yoke41. What a pleasure it was, after finishing a number of pages, to start Eastward42 toward the lawyer-regions, full of imaginary cropping incidents, and from that churchyard Westward43, against smoky sunsets, or in welcome fogs, an atom of the crowd! She had an affection for the crowd. They clothed her. She laughed at the gloomy forebodings of Danvers concerning the perils44 environing ladies in the streets after dark alone. The lights in the streets after dark and the quick running of her blood, combined to strike sparks of fancy and inspirit the task of composition at night. This new, strange, solitary45 life, cut off from her adulatory46 society, both by the shock that made the abyss and by the utter foreignness, threw her in upon her natural forces, recasting her, and thinning away her memory of her past days, excepting girlhood, into the remote. She lived with her girlhood as with a simple little sister. They were two in one, and she corrected the dreams of the younger, protected and counselled her very sagely47, advising her to love Truth and look always to Reality for her refreshment48. She was ready to say, that no habitable spot on our planet was healthier and pleasanter than London. As to the perils haunting the head of Danvers, her experiences assured her of a perfect immunity49 from them; and the maligned50 thoroughfares of a great city, she was ready to affirm, contrasted favourably51 with certain hospitable52 halls.
The long-suffering Fates permitted her for a term to enjoy the generous delusion53. Subsequently a sweet surprise alleviated54 the shock she had sustained. Emma Dunstane’s carriage was at her door, and Emma entered her sitting-room, to tell her of having hired a house in the neighbourhood, looking on the park. She begged to have her for guest, sorrowfully anticipating the refusal. At least they were to be near one another.
‘You really like this life in lodgings?’ asked Emma, to whom the stiff furniture and narrow apartments were a dreariness55, the miserably56 small fire of the sitting-room an aspect of cheerless winter.
‘I do,’ said Diana; ‘yes,’ she added with some reserve, and smiled at her damped enthusiasm, ‘I can eat when I like, walk, work—and I am working! My legs and my pen demand it. Let me be independent! Besides, I begin to learn something of the bigger world outside the one I know, and I crush my mincing57 tastes. In return for that, I get a sense of strength I had not when I was a drawing-room exotic. Much is repulsive58. But I am taken with a passion for reality.’
They spoke of the lawyers, and the calculated period of the trial; of the husband too, in his inciting59 belief in the falseness of his wife. ‘That is his excuse,’ Diana said, her closed mouth meditatively60 dimpling the comers over thoughts of his grounds for fury. He had them, though none for the incriminating charge. The Sphinx mouth of the married woman at war and at bay must be left unriddled. She and the law differed in their interpretation61 of the dues of wedlock62.
But matters referring to her case were secondary with Diana beside the importance of her storing impressions. Her mind required to hunger for something, and this Reality which frequently she was forced to loathe63, she forced herself proudly to accept, despite her youthfulness. Her philosophy swallowed it in the lump, as the great serpent his meal; she hoped to digest it sleeping likewise. Her visits of curiosity to the Law Courts, where she stood spying and listening behind a veil, gave her a great deal of tough substance to digest. There she watched the process of the tortures to be applied64 to herself, and hardened her senses for the ordeal65. She saw there the ribbed and shanked old skeleton world on which our fair fleshly is moulded. After all, your Fool’s Paradise is not a garden to grow in. Charon’s ferry-boat is not thicker with phantoms66. They do not live in mind or soul. Chiefly women people it: a certain class of limp men; women for the most part: they are sown there. And put their garden under the magnifying glass of intimacy67, what do we behold68? A world not better than the world it curtains, only foolisher.
Her conversations with Lady Dunstane brought her at last to the point of her damped enthusiasm. She related an incident or two occurring in her career of independence, and they discussed our state of civilization plainly and gravely, save for the laughing peals69 her phrases occasionally provoked; as when she named the intruders and disturbers of solitarily-faring ladies, ‘Cupid’s footpads.’ Her humour was created to swim on waters where a prescribed and cultivated prudery should pretend to be drowning.
‘I was getting an exalted70 idea of English gentlemen, Emmy. “Rich and rare were the gems71 she wore.” I was ready to vow72 that one might traverse the larger island similarly respected. I praised their chivalry73. I thought it a privilege to live in such a land. I cannot describe to you how delightful74 it was to me to walk out and home generally protected. I might have been seriously annoyed but that one of the clerks-“articled,” he called himself—of our lawyers happened to be by. He offered to guard me, and was amusing with his modest tiptoe air. No, I trust to the English common man more than ever. He is a man of honour. I am convinced he is matchless in any other country, except Ireland. The English gentleman trades on his reputation.’
He was condemned75 by an afflicted76 delicacy77, the sharpest of critical tribunals.
Emma bade her not to be too sweeping78 from a bad example.
‘It is not a single one,’ said Diana. ‘What vexes79 me and frets80 me is, that I must be a prisoner, or allow Danvers to mount guard. And I can’t see the end of it. And Danvers is no magician. She seems to know her countrymen, though. She warded81 one of them off, by saying to me: “This is the crossing, my lady.” He fled.’
Lady Dunstane affixed82 the popular title to the latter kind of gentleman. She was irritated on her friend’s behalf, and against the worrying of her sisterhood, thinking in her heart, nevertheless, that the passing of a face and figure like Diana’s might inspire honourable83 emotions, pitiable for being hapless.
‘If you were with me, dear, you would have none of these annoyances,’ she said, pleading forlornly.
Diana smiled to herself. ‘No! I should relapse into softness. This life exactly suits my present temper. My landlady84 is respectful and attentive85; the little housemaid is a willing slave; Danvers does not despise them pugnaciously86; they make a home for me, and I am learning daily. Do you know, the less ignorant I become, the more considerate I am for the ignorance of others—I love them for it.’ She squeezed Emma’s hand with more meaning than her friend apprehended87. ‘So I win my advantage from the trifles I have to endure. They are really trifles, and I should once have thought them mountains!’
For the moment Diana stipulated88 that she might not have to encounter friends or others at Lady Dunstane’s dinner-table, and the season not being favourable89 to those gatherings90 planned by Lady Dunstane in her project of winning supporters, there was a respite91, during which Sir Lukin worked manfully at his three Clubs to vindicate Diana’s name from the hummers and hawers, gaining half a dozen hot adherents92, and a body of lukewarm, sufficiently93 stirred to be desirous to see the lady. He worked with true champion zeal94, although an interview granted him by the husband settled his opinion as to any possibility of the two ever coming to terms. Also it struck him that if he by misadventure had been a woman and the wife of such a fellow, by Jove!... his apostrophe to the father of the gods of pagandom signifying the amount of matter Warwick would have had reason to complain of in earnest. By ricochet his military mind rebounded95 from his knowledge of himself to an ardent96, faith in Mrs. Warwick’s innocence97; for, as there was no resemblance between them, there must, he deduced, be a difference in their capacity for enduring the perpetual company of a prig, a stick, a petrified98 poser. Moreover, the novel act of advocacy, and the nature of the advocacy, had effect on him. And then he recalled the scene in the winter beech-woods, and Diana’s wild-deer eyes; her, perfect generosity99 to a traitor100 and fool. How could he have doubted her? Glimpses of the corrupting101 cause for it partly penetrated102 his density103: a conqueror104 of ladies, in mid-career, doubts them all. Of course he had meant no harm, nothing worse than some petty philandering105 with the loveliest woman of her time. And, by Jove! it was worth the rebuff to behold the Beauty in her wrath106.
The reflections of Lothario, however much tending tardily107 to do justice to a particular lady, cannot terminate wholesomely108. But he became a gallant109 partisan110. His portrayal111 of Mr. Warwick to his wife and his friends was fine caricature. ‘The fellow had his hand up at my first word—stood like a sentinel under inspection112. “Understand, Sir Lukin, that I receive you simply as an acquaintance. As an intermediary, permit me to state that you are taking superfluous113 trouble. The case must proceed. It is final. She is at liberty, in the meantime, to draw on my bankers for the provision she may need, at the rate of five hundred pounds per annum.” He spoke of “the lady now bearing my name.” He was within an inch of saying “dishonouring.” I swear I heard the “dis,” and he caught himself up. He “again declined any attempt towards reconciliation114.” It could “only be founded on evasion115 of the truth to be made patent on the day of trial.” Half his talk was lawyers’ lingo116. The fellow’s teeth looked like frost. If Lot’s wife had a brother, his name’s Warwick. How Diana Merion, who could have had the pick of the best of us, ever came to marry a fellow like that, passes my comprehension, queer creatures as women are! He can ride; that’s about all he can do. I told him Mrs. Warwick had no thought of reconciliation. “Then, Sir Lukin, you will perceive that we have no standpoint for a discussion.” I told him the point was, for a man of honour not to drag his wife before the public, as he had no case to stand on—less than nothing. You should have seen the fellow’s face. He shot a sneer117 up to his eyelids, and flung his head back. So I said, “Good-day.” He marches me to the door, “with his compliments to Lady Dunstane.” I could have floored him for that. Bless my soul, what fellows the world is made of, when here’s a man, calling himself a gentleman, who, just because he gets in a rage with his wife for one thing or another—and past all competition the handsomest woman of her day, and the cleverest, the nicest, the best of the whole boiling—has her out for a public horsewhipping, and sets all the idiots of the kingdom against her! I tried to reason with him. He made as if he were going to sleep standing118.’
Sir Lukin gratified Lady Dunstane by his honest championship of Diana. And now, in his altered mood (the thrice indebted rogue119 was just cloudily conscious of a desire to propitiate120 his dear wife by serving her friend), he began a crusade against the scandal-newspapers, going with an Irish military comrade straight to the editorial offices, and leaving his card and a warning that the chastisement121 for print of the name of the lady in their columns would be personal and condign122. Captain Carew Mahony, albeit123 unacquainted with Mrs. Warwick, had espoused124 her cause. She was a woman, she was an Irishwoman, she was a beautiful woman. She had, therefore, three positive claims on him as a soldier and a man. Other Irish gentlemen, animated125 by the same swelling126 degrees, were awaking to the intimation that they might be wanted. Some words were dropped here and there by General Lord Larrian: he regretted his age and infirmities. A goodly regiment127 for a bodyguard128 might have been selected to protect her steps in the public streets; when it was bruited129 that the General had sent her a present of his great Newfoundland dog, Leander, to attend on her and impose a required respect. But as it chanced that her address was unknown to the volunteer constabulary, they had to assuage130 their ardour by thinking the dog luckier than they.
The report of the dog was a fact. He arrived one morning at Diana’s lodgings, with a soldier to lead him, and a card to introduce:—the Hercules of dogs, a very ideal of the species, toweringly big, benevolent131, reputed a rescuer of lives, disdainful of dog-fighting, devoted132 to his guardian’s office, with a majestic133 paw to give and the noblest satisfaction in receiving caresses134 ever expressed by mortal male enfolded about the head, kissed, patted, hugged, snuggled, informed that he was his new mistress’s one love and darling.
She despatched a thrilling note of thanks to Lord Larrian, sure of her touch upon an Irish heart.
The dog Leander soon responded to the attachment135 of a mistress enamoured of him. ‘He is my husband,’ she said to Emma, and started a tear in the eyes of her smiling friend; ‘he promises to trust me, and never to have the law of me, and to love my friends as his own; so we are certain to agree.’ In rain, snow, sunshine, through the parks and the streets, he was the shadow of Diana, commanding, on the whole, apart from some desperate attempts to make him serve as introducer, a civilized136 behaviour in the legions of Cupid’s footpads. But he helped, innocently enough, to create an enemy.
1 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 probation | |
n.缓刑(期),(以观后效的)察看;试用(期) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 eyelids | |
n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 );眼睛也不眨一下;不露声色;面不改色 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 defenders | |
n.防御者( defender的名词复数 );守卫者;保护者;辩护者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 accurately | |
adv.准确地,精确地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 perusing | |
v.读(某篇文字)( peruse的现在分词 );(尤指)细阅;审阅;匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览(某篇文字) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 scorching | |
adj. 灼热的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 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: |
|
|
9 primly | |
adv.循规蹈矩地,整洁地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 softening | |
变软,软化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 cocoon | |
n.茧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 abjectly | |
凄惨地; 绝望地; 糟透地; 悲惨地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 mightily | |
ad.强烈地;非常地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 onset | |
n.进攻,袭击,开始,突然开始 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 vindicate | |
v.为…辩护或辩解,辩明;证明…正确 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 consultation | |
n.咨询;商量;商议;会议 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 placidly | |
adv.平稳地,平静地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 sentient | |
adj.有知觉的,知悉的;adv.有感觉能力地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 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: |
|
|
22 metropolis | |
n.首府;大城市 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 lodgings | |
n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 sitting-room | |
n.(BrE)客厅,起居室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 tenant | |
n.承租人;房客;佃户;v.租借,租用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 opium | |
n.鸦片;adj.鸦片的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 marvelling | |
v.惊奇,对…感到惊奇( marvel的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 overflow | |
v.(使)外溢,(使)溢出;溢出,流出,漫出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 luring | |
吸引,引诱(lure的现在分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 forfeited | |
(因违反协议、犯规、受罚等)丧失,失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 rigidly | |
adv.刻板地,僵化地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 solicitors | |
初级律师( solicitor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 shrugged | |
vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 outstripping | |
v.做得比…更好,(在赛跑等中)超过( outstrip的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 contrition | |
n.悔罪,痛悔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 suite | |
n.一套(家具);套房;随从人员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 conjured | |
用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 ); 祈求,恳求; 变戏法; (变魔术般地) 使…出现 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 exultation | |
n.狂喜,得意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 plunges | |
n.跳进,投入vt.使投入,使插入,使陷入vi.投入,跳进,陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 yoke | |
n.轭;支配;v.给...上轭,连接,使成配偶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 eastward | |
adv.向东;adj.向东的;n.东方,东部 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 westward | |
n.西方,西部;adj.西方的,向西的;adv.向西 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 perils | |
极大危险( peril的名词复数 ); 危险的事(或环境) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 adulatory | |
adj. 谄媚的, 奉承的, 阿谀的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 sagely | |
adv. 贤能地,贤明地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 refreshment | |
n.恢复,精神爽快,提神之事物;(复数)refreshments:点心,茶点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 immunity | |
n.优惠;免除;豁免,豁免权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 maligned | |
vt.污蔑,诽谤(malign的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 favourably | |
adv. 善意地,赞成地 =favorably | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 hospitable | |
adj.好客的;宽容的;有利的,适宜的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 delusion | |
n.谬见,欺骗,幻觉,迷惑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 alleviated | |
减轻,缓解,缓和( alleviate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 dreariness | |
沉寂,可怕,凄凉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 miserably | |
adv.痛苦地;悲惨地;糟糕地;极度地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 mincing | |
adj.矫饰的;v.切碎;切碎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 repulsive | |
adj.排斥的,使人反感的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 inciting | |
刺激的,煽动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 meditatively | |
adv.冥想地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 interpretation | |
n.解释,说明,描述;艺术处理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 wedlock | |
n.婚姻,已婚状态 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 loathe | |
v.厌恶,嫌恶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 applied | |
adj.应用的;v.应用,适用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 ordeal | |
n.苦难经历,(尤指对品格、耐力的)严峻考验 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 phantoms | |
n.鬼怪,幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 intimacy | |
n.熟悉,亲密,密切关系,亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 peals | |
n.(声音大而持续或重复的)洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 );隆隆声;洪亮的钟声;钟乐v.(使)(钟等)鸣响,(雷等)发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 exalted | |
adj.(地位等)高的,崇高的;尊贵的,高尚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 gems | |
growth; economy; management; and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 vow | |
n.誓(言),誓约;v.起誓,立誓 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 chivalry | |
n.骑士气概,侠义;(男人)对女人彬彬有礼,献殷勤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 condemned | |
adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 afflicted | |
使受痛苦,折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 delicacy | |
n.精致,细微,微妙,精良;美味,佳肴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 vexes | |
v.使烦恼( vex的第三人称单数 );使苦恼;使生气;详细讨论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 frets | |
基质间片; 品丝(吉他等指板上定音的)( fret的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 warded | |
有锁孔的,有钥匙榫槽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 affixed | |
adj.[医]附着的,附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 );粘贴;加以;盖(印章) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 honourable | |
adj.可敬的;荣誉的,光荣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 landlady | |
n.女房东,女地主 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 attentive | |
adj.注意的,专心的;关心(别人)的,殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 pugnaciously | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 apprehended | |
逮捕,拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 ); 理解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 stipulated | |
vt.& vi.规定;约定adj.[法]合同规定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 favourable | |
adj.赞成的,称赞的,有利的,良好的,顺利的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 gatherings | |
聚集( gathering的名词复数 ); 收集; 采集; 搜集 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 respite | |
n.休息,中止,暂缓 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 adherents | |
n.支持者,拥护者( adherent的名词复数 );党羽;徒子徒孙 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 rebounded | |
弹回( rebound的过去式和过去分词 ); 反弹; 产生反作用; 未能奏效 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 petrified | |
adj.惊呆的;目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆,使惊呆;变僵硬;使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 generosity | |
n.大度,慷慨,慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 traitor | |
n.叛徒,卖国贼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 corrupting | |
(使)败坏( corrupt的现在分词 ); (使)腐化; 引起(计算机文件等的)错误; 破坏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 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: |
|
|
103 density | |
n.密集,密度,浓度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 conqueror | |
n.征服者,胜利者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 philandering | |
v.调戏,玩弄女性( philander的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 tardily | |
adv.缓慢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 wholesomely | |
卫生地,有益健康地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 partisan | |
adj.党派性的;游击队的;n.游击队员;党徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 portrayal | |
n.饰演;描画 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 inspection | |
n.检查,审查,检阅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 superfluous | |
adj.过多的,过剩的,多余的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 reconciliation | |
n.和解,和谐,一致 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 evasion | |
n.逃避,偷漏(税) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 lingo | |
n.语言不知所云,外国话,隐语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 sneer | |
v.轻蔑;嘲笑;n.嘲笑,讥讽的言语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 rogue | |
n.流氓;v.游手好闲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 propitiate | |
v.慰解,劝解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 chastisement | |
n.惩罚 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 condign | |
adj.应得的,相当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 albeit | |
conj.即使;纵使;虽然 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 espoused | |
v.(决定)支持,拥护(目标、主张等)( espouse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 animated | |
adj.生气勃勃的,活跃的,愉快的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 swelling | |
n.肿胀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 regiment | |
n.团,多数,管理;v.组织,编成团,统制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 bodyguard | |
n.护卫,保镖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 bruited | |
v.传播(传说或谣言)( bruit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 assuage | |
v.缓和,减轻,镇定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 benevolent | |
adj.仁慈的,乐善好施的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 majestic | |
adj.雄伟的,壮丽的,庄严的,威严的,崇高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 caresses | |
爱抚,抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 attachment | |
n.附属物,附件;依恋;依附 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 civilized | |
a.有教养的,文雅的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |