As she unlocked her door Halo heard animated1 talk in the studio. The voices were Savignac’s and Tolby’s; they were speaking with great vivacity2, as if the subject under discussion provoked curiosity and amusement. Still humming to herself: “I’ve been cut by Mrs. Glaisher — Mrs. Glaisher — ” Halo thought: “How I shall make Vance laugh over it!” and she tried to catch his voice among the others. But if he were there he was doubtless listening in silence, stretched out on the brown Bokhara of the divan3, his arms folded under his head, and watching between half-shut lids his cigarette smoke spiral upward. “Shall I tell him before the others?” she thought, with an impulse of bravado4.
“Well —!” she cried out gaily5 from the threshold. Only Tolby and Savignac were there; as she turned the door-handle they ceased talking and her “Well!” rang out in the silence. Savignac rose, and Tolby, who was bending over the fire, continued to poke6 it. “They were talking of me!” she thought, and Lorry’s phrase flashed through her mind: “The fellows are saying to themselves: ‘His sister? Oh, anybody can have her the day her novelist chucks her’.”
That was what these young men, whom she liked, and who were sitting over her fire waiting for her to come in, were probably saying. If not, why should they stop talking so suddenly, and lift such embarrassed faces? It had been very comic to be cut by Mrs. Glaisher; it seemed to put things in their right perspective, and rid Halo of her last scruples7. But the idea that her lover’s friends had fallen silent on her entrance because they had been caught discussing her situation did not strike her as comic, and she felt a sudden childish ache to be back in the accustomed frame~work of her life.
She came in and shook hands with the young men. “What have you done with Vance?” she asked lightly.
Tolby gave a laugh. “Why, we were talking about him — if that’s what you mean.”
“Oh — about VANCE?” In her relief she could not help stressing the name. “Is that why you both look so guilty?”
Tolby laughed again, and Savignac rejoined: “Yes, it is. But for my part I’m going to confess. I don’t like his book — at least not as much as I want to.”
“Oh, I know you don’t. And Tolby doesn’t either. But he had the courage to tell me so.” Inwardly Halo was thinking: “What an idiot I am! As if these young fellows cared whether Vance and I are married or not! They know we love each other, and for them that’s all that counts. These are the kind of people I want to live among.” She sat down by the fire, and said: “One of you might find the cocktail8 shaker. I’m too lazy.”
Tolby made the necessary effort, and while they sipped9, and lit their cigarettes, Halo continued gaily: “But, you know, Vance doesn’t really care for the Spanish novel himself. Has he shown you ‘Magic’, the one he began two years ago?”
“No,” Tolby rejoined. “He said it was no use showing it because it was definitely discarded; but last night at Savignac’s he read us an outline of this big new thing he’s planning. Derek Fane, of the ‘Amplifier’, was there, and Weston wanted his opinion. That’s the book we were talking about.”
“Oh — ” Halo murmured. There was a big new book, then; and Vance hadn’t yet seen fit to speak to her about it, much less to read her the outline with which the young English critic had been favoured. Why did he no longer talk to her about his work? The idea that it must be her fault made her spirits droop10 again; but she thought: “I mustn’t let them see that I haven’t heard of it.” She leaned back and puffed11 at her cigarette. “Well — how does it strike you?”
Tolby gave a shrug12. “Not my job — I’m no critic.”
Halo laughed. “Savignac can’t get out of it on that pretext13.”
“No,” Savignac admitted. “But I can say that I’m a critic only within certain limits.”
“Is this out of your limits?”
“It’s out of my scale. Too big — ”
“For human nature’s daily food,” Tolby interpolated. “That’s my trouble. I think the proper measure of mankind is man.”
“Well —?”
“Well — did you ever read Maeterlinck on the Bee — or, rather, I should say, on THE BEE? Rather before your day, but — you have? Well, then you’ll understand. When I began to read that book I had imagined the bee was a small animal — insect, in fact; something to be spoken of in a whisper, written of in airy monosyllables — an idea justified15 by the dimensions of the hives in which, I’m assured by competent authorities, a whole swarm16 can be comfortably lodged18, and carry on their complicated civic19 and domestic affairs . . . Well, as I read Maeterlinck, the bee grew and grew — like Alice after eating the cake. With each adjective — and they rained like hailstones — that bee grew bigger. Maeterlinck, in his admiration20 for the creature’s mental capacity, had endowed it with a giant’s physical proportions. The least epithet21 he applied22 to it would have fitted a Roman emperor — or an elephant. That’s what the creature became: a winged elephant. That bee was afflicted23 with giantism, as they say in French. You didn’t know that giantism was a glandular24 disease? Certainly! And Maeterlinck didn’t give his thyroid piq?res in time — he let the creature swell25 and swell till it turned into an earth-shaking megatherium among whose legs rogue26 elephants could have romped27. . .” Tolby laughed, refilled his pipe, and stretched his contented28 ankles to the fire. “That’s what I told Weston, in my untutored language.”
Halo echoed his laugh; then she said tentatively: “But I don’t quite see how I’m to apply your analogy.” She was trying to conceal29 from them that Vance had never breathed a word to her of the new book.
Tolby raised himself on an elbow. “Savignac’s the man to give you the reasons; it’s his trade. But he won’t; he’s too polite. I’m just a blundering brute30 of a painter, who can’t explain himself in anything but pigments31. And I don’t know why I don’t like Goliaths, except that they’ve always proved so much less paintable than the Davids.”
“But is it the subject you think too big? Or the characters?”
Savignac plunged32 in. “It’s the scale of the pattern. It’s all part of a pattern, subject and characters. It’s to be an attempt to deal microscopically33, with the infinitely34 little of human experience, incalculably magnified, like those horrid35 close-ups of fever microbes, when you don’t know whether you’re looking at a streptococcus or the villain36 of a Chinese drama. Till I can find a reason why the meanest physical reflexes should have an ?sthetic value equal to the windows of Chartres, or the final scenes of Faust, I shall refuse to believe that they may be legitimately37 treated as if they had.”
“I should refuse even if I found the reason — but then I’m a mere38 empirical Briton,” Tolby rejoined.
Halo sat silent, trying to piece together these comments. She began to guess why Vance had not talked to her of the book. He had evidently caught the literary infection of Jane Meggs’s back shop, and was trying to do a masterpiece according to the new recipe; and he had guessed that Halo would warn him against the danger of sacrificing his individuality to a fashion or a school. Vance was curiously39 wary40 about guarding the secrets of his work from premature41 exposure; but hitherto he had seemed to feel that with her they ran no risk. Now, instinctively42, he had anticipated her disapproval43; and in a certain way it proved her power over him.
For a while she reflected; then she said: “But if Vance’s elephants are winged, like Maeterlinck’s, and use their wings, won’t that justify44 his subject and his scale?”
Savignac nodded. “Perfectly.”
“Then I suppose all we can do is to wait and see.”
“Manifestly. And in the meantime all we can do is to wait for Vance,” Tolby interrupted. “He told us to be here by six — we were to hear the first chapters. And it’s nearly eight now. Have you any idea where he is?”
“Not the least.” Halo got up, lit a lamp, drew the heavy linen45 curtains. The studio, as she shut out the dusk, grew smaller and more intimate. Tolby threw another log on the hearth46, and the rising flame reminded her of the New York winter evenings when she and Vance had sat over the library fire, wandering from book to book, from vision to vision. “We were nearer to each other then,” she thought.
Half-past eight struck, and the two young men said they would go off to dine, and drop in afterward47 to see if Vance had turned up. They tried to persuade Halo to accompany them to the restaurant which the group frequented; but she said she would wait, and join them later with Vance. She drew a breath of relief when they left; she wanted to sit down quietly and think over what they had said of this new book.
The first chapters were finished, apparently48, since Vance had convoked49 his friends to hear them read. She knew where he kept his papers when he was working; it would have been easy to open a drawer in the old cabinet against the wall and rummage50 for the manuscript. She longed to see it, to assure herself that Vance’s treatment of his subject would justify itself — that she would discover in it a promise which Savignac and Tolby had missed. Their literary judgment51, to which she had attached so much importance, suddenly seemed open to question. After all, they were both very young, they belonged to a little clan52 like the others, a number of indirect causes might unconsciously affect their opinion. “Perhaps he’s doing something that’s beyond their measure,” she thought, fastening on the idea with immediate53 conviction. But much as she desired to confirm it by reading the manuscript she could not bring herself to open the drawer where she was sure it lay. It was the first time that Vance had not taken her into his confidence; and whatever his reasons were, she meant to respect them. If there had been a letter from a woman in that drawer, she reflected, it would have been almost easier to resist looking at it. The relation between herself and Vance had hitherto been so complete that her imagination was lazy about picturing its disturbance54. She could not think of him as desiring another woman; but she suffered acutely from the fact that, for the first time, he had not sought her intellectual collaboration55.
It was the maid’s evening out, and there was no food in the house; but Halo did not feel hungry. She thought: “When he turns up, we’ll go out and have supper, as we did that first night at Cordova, when he couldn’t eat for the beauty of it.” That was only a few months ago; but she was beginning to discover the arbitrariness of time-measures in the sentimental56 world. The memory seemed to come out of another life.
She stretched herself on the divan, and took up a book to which she gave only the surface of her thoughts. Nine struck, then half~past; almost immediately afterward, it was ten o’clock. She was beginning to think of street accidents and other disquieting57 possibilities when, toward eleven, the bell rang, and she jumped to her feet. Vance always carried his latchkey; but he might have mislaid or lost it. She ran to the door and opened it on a messenger with a telegram. She fumbled58 for a franc, and tore open the message under the faint gaslight of the landing. It was dated Paris, and ran: “Off for a day or two to think over book all right love Vance.”
Nothing more; no explanation; no excuses; no specifying59 of place or date. The baldest and vaguest statement of fact — and no more. . .
Familiar voices rose from below, and she caught sight of Tolby’s faded Homburg hat at the turn of the stair. “No,” she called down to it, “he’s not here, he’s not come back; but it’s all right. I’ve just had a wire. He had to dash off to see somebody . . . a publisher, yes, a publisher — in London . . . Oh, no, thanks; really not; I’m too sleepy for supper. When I’m alone I don’t keep Montmartre hours . . . Thank you, my dears, thank you . . . No — don’t come up!”
Halo carried the telegram back into the studio and sat down to reread it. The words stared at her with secretive faces that yielded no hint of the truth. But why had she so spontaneously fibbed about the message to those young men? In the easy world of Montparnasse everybody came and went without making excuses or giving reasons; only the old instinct of order and propriety60, reasserting itself in her, had made her invent that silly story about a London publisher. Lorry was right; she evidently was not cut out to be a poet’s love! She smiled defiantly61, whispered to herself: “We’ll see — ” and immediately felt it incumbent62, in her new character, to develop a healthy hunger and thirst. In the pantry she found cheese and stale biscuits, which she consumed with the help of a cocktail; then she said: “Now I’ll go to bed, like a sensible woman — ” and, instead, lit a cigarette and threw herself again on the divan.
The room had grown very still. The friendly fire burned itself out, and she was too lazy to get up and light it. Suddenly it occurred to her that everything she had done for the last year — from choosing her hats and dresses to replenishing the fire, getting the right lamp shades, the right menu for dinner, the right flowers for the brown jar on Vance’s table — everything had been done not for herself but for Vance. She had no longer cared to make her life comely63 for its own sake; she thought of it only in relation to her love for Vance. She understood how a young woman full of the pride of self-adornment might turn into a slattern if her lover left her . . . She must suggest that to Vance for a story. . .
But now she saw what must have happened. Alders64, she was sure, had turned up again and persuaded Vance to go on a trip with him. Poor Alders knew well enough that he bored her, that she secretly disliked him; he would prefer to pour his second-rate eloquence65 into Vance’s uncritical ear. No doubt he and Vance had gone to stay with some of Alders’s pseudo-fashionable friends; and Vance, aware of the faint smile with which Halo would greet such a project, had preferred to go without telling her . . . Well, probably she deserved it; she had always been too critical, had made her likes and dislikes too evident. As if they mattered, or anything did, except that she should go on serving and inspiring this child of genius with whom a whim66 of the gods had entrusted67 her. . .
Yet was it likely that Vance would have gone off on a trip with Alders? The friends he had made in Paris, the comrades of these last stimulating68 months, had relegated69 Alders to an obscure corner of the background. Vance hardly ever spoke14 of Alders nowadays — the only time Halo could remember his mentioning the name, he had said: “Poor old Alders,” with a shrug of comprehension. “I wonder what’s become of Alders’s duke — you remember, the one with the name like the clanging of shields?” No; it was not likely that he had gone away with Alders.
If Tolby and Savignac had not been spending that very evening with her at Vance’s invitation, and in the expectation of hearing the first pages of his new novel, Halo would have concluded that the three friends had improvised70 another trip together. Tolby and Savignac were Vance’s closest friends nowadays; their companionship had become such an intellectual necessity to him that Halo would have been neither surprised nor resentful if he had gone with them without including her in the party. But Vance had invited his friends to his house, and had obviously meant to be there to receive them; it was after he had made the arrangement that something had occurred, something mysterious, inexplicable71, which had caused him to change his plans too hurriedly to give Halo any clearer explanation than this cryptic72 telegram. It was not Alders who had worked that change.
Halo started up in sudden alarm. Supposing it were not Vance who had sent the telegram? Memories of mysterious abductions, of forged messages from victims already dead, rushed through her agitated73 mind. There was no telephone in the flat, or even in the concierge’s lodge17 below; the old-fashioned building, like most of its kind, was without such conveniences. She would have to go to the nearest police-station, and say — say what? That her husband had not come home for dinner, but that she had had a telegram from him telling her that he was all right, and would be back in two or three days. No — that was scarcely worth carrying to the police. She decided74 to wait.
Her glance, wandering about the studio, fell again on the old walnut75 cabinet in which she was sure that Vance had put the manuscript; and suddenly she decided to get it out and read it. She felt that she had the right to do so. If he had withdrawn76 his confidence from her she must find out about him in other ways . . . She took up the lamp and carried it across to the cabinet. She noticed that her hand was trembling. “One would think I was a jealous woman expecting to find a love-letter,” she smiled to herself — and felt the smile harden on her lips.
What a fool she had been! Why shouldn’t there be love-letters in that drawer? How was it that never, till that moment, the most probable reason for Vance’s gradual detachment had occurred to her? Intellectual companionship? Spiritual union? Rubbish! A young man with a fiery77 imagination wanted a new woman — a succession of new women — for his flame to feed on. The lives of the poets and artists all proved it — showed how the flame devoured78 one lovely victim after another, how many had to be heaped on the pyre of genius! If Vance had ceased to talk to her about his work it was because he was talking about it to some other woman. Since the beginning of the world there had been no other clue to the withdrawal79 of one lover from another. All Halo’s intellectual subtleties80 shrivelled up in the glare of this truth.
She set the lamp down and stood studying the carved doors behind which the answer to the riddle81 perhaps lay. She no longer thought of the novel — what she saw, through those worm-eaten panels, was a packet of letters in a woman’s writing. Was the writing known or unknown to her? Even that she could not guess. Her imagination, racing82 backward over the last weeks and months, scrutinized83 one after another the feminine faces in their group, trying to recall some significant glance or word of Vance’s. But though these young women obviously interested and amused him, he seemed to treat them all with an odd detachment, and she could not remember his having shown a preference for one above the others. But how did she know that in the course of his Parisian wanderings he had not come across some one she had never seen or even heard of? The chance propinquity of a café or a cinema might have sufficed to undo84 her life, and put this burning anguish85 in her heart — this pain so new that she pressed her hands to her breast and whispered: “Oh, God, dear God — only not THAT! Oh, God, don’t let it be that!”
It seemed too cruel for endurance that all the treasures of her love for Vance, and the passionate86 year which had been its flowering, should be at the mercy of some unknown woman’s laugh, of the way her eyelashes grew, or her shoulder sloped as the dress drooped87 from it. . .
“But how do I know it’s an unknown woman?” She remembered how long she and Vance had loved each other without its being suspected; she recalled all the devices and prevarications that had shielded their growing passion, and had seemed so natural and necessary. He might have been carrying on an intrigue88 for weeks with some woman they were meeting constantly at cafés, at dances, at Lorry’s . . . She broke off, as if her brother’s name had brought enlightenment. At Lorry’s — but of course! What else was the meaning of Lorry’s unaccountable diatribe89 against the women who came to his studio? He had told Halo they were not fit to associate with her; and she had laughed, and wondered what could be the cause of this new prudery. Now she saw how the bits of the puzzle fitted into each other, and smiled at her own dulness. What he had obviously been trying to do was to warn her of Vance’s peril90. Perhaps he was jealous of Vance; perhaps Jane Meggs had been too kind to him. The power of such women was so insidious91 that though Lorry despised Jane, and laughed at her, he could not do without her, and he had probably meant Halo to take the warning and pass it on to Vance.
Then again — what was it that Tolby and Savignac had hinted about the new book? Why, that it belonged to the type of literature in which Jane Meggs specialized92. Not the kind she kept in her back shop; they could hardly have meant that; but that Vance had been too much influenced by the stream-of-consciousness school which Jane’s group proclaimed to a bewildered public to be the one model for modern fiction.
Jane Meggs! How a woman of that sort would know how to flatter Vance, astonish his inexperience, amuse him by her literary jargon93, fascinate him by her moral perversity94. Even the ugliness which Jane flaunted95 as though it were HER kind of beauty, the kind she wanted and had deliberately96 chosen, might have a coarse fascination97 for him. Perhaps at this very minute he was with her, in the little flat to which she boasted that even Lorry had never been admitted. . .
Halo turned from the cabinet. She no longer wanted to open its hidden drawers. How should she bear the sight of the truth, when the imaging of it was so intolerable?
收听单词发音 |
1
animated
|
|
| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
vivacity
|
|
| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
divan
|
|
| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
bravado
|
|
| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
gaily
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
poke
|
|
| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
scruples
|
|
| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
cocktail
|
|
| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
sipped
|
|
| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
droop
|
|
| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
puffed
|
|
| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
shrug
|
|
| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
pretext
|
|
| n.借口，托词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
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： |
|
|
|
|
15
justified
|
|
| a.正当的，有理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
swarm
|
|
| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
lodge
|
|
| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
lodged
|
|
| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
civic
|
|
| adj.城市的，都市的，市民的，公民的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
epithet
|
|
| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
afflicted
|
|
| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
glandular
|
|
| adj.腺体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
swell
|
|
| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
rogue
|
|
| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
romped
|
|
| v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
pigments
|
|
| n.（粉状）颜料( pigment的名词复数 )；天然色素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
microscopically
|
|
| 显微镜下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
infinitely
|
|
| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
horrid
|
|
| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
villain
|
|
| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
legitimately
|
|
| ad.合法地；正当地，合理地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
wary
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
premature
|
|
| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
disapproval
|
|
| n.反对，不赞成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
justify
|
|
| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
hearth
|
|
| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
afterward
|
|
| adv.后来；以后 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
convoked
|
|
| v.召集，召开（会议）( convoke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
rummage
|
|
| v./n.翻寻，仔细检查 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
clan
|
|
| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
disturbance
|
|
| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
collaboration
|
|
| n.合作，协作；勾结 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
sentimental
|
|
| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
disquieting
|
|
| adj.令人不安的，令人不平静的v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
fumbled
|
|
| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
specifying
|
|
| v.指定( specify的现在分词 )；详述；提出…的条件；使具有特性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
propriety
|
|
| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
defiantly
|
|
| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
incumbent
|
|
| adj.成为责任的，有义务的；现任的，在职的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
comely
|
|
| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
alders
|
|
| n.桤木( alder的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
65
eloquence
|
|
| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
whim
|
|
| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
entrusted
|
|
| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
stimulating
|
|
| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
relegated
|
|
| v.使降级( relegate的过去式和过去分词 )；使降职；转移；把…归类 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
improvised
|
|
| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
inexplicable
|
|
| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
cryptic
|
|
| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
walnut
|
|
| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
withdrawn
|
|
| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
devoured
|
|
| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
withdrawal
|
|
| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
subtleties
|
|
| 细微( subtlety的名词复数 )； 精细； 巧妙； 细微的差别等 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
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： |
|
|
|
|
82
racing
|
|
| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
scrutinized
|
|
| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
undo
|
|
| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
anguish
|
|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
drooped
|
|
| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
intrigue
|
|
| vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
diatribe
|
|
| n.抨击，抨击性演说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
insidious
|
|
| adj.阴险的，隐匿的，暗中为害的，（疾病）不知不觉之间加剧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
specialized
|
|
| adj.专门的，专业化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
jargon
|
|
| n.术语，行话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
perversity
|
|
| n.任性；刚愎自用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
flaunted
|
|
| v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的过去式和过去分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
fascination
|
|
| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |