Sarah’s Benefactor1
i
On the following afternoon Hilda travelled alone by the local train from Bleakridge to Knype, the central station where all voyagers for London, Birmingham, and Manchester had to foregather in order to take the fast expresses that unwillingly2 halted there, and there only, in their skimming flights across the district. It was a custom of Five Towns hospitality that a departing guest should be accompanied as far as Knype and stowed with personal attentions into the big train. But on this occasion Hilda had wished otherwise. “I should prefer nobody to go with me to Knype,” she had said, in a characteristic tone, to Janet. It was enough. The family had wondered; but it was enough. The family knew its singular, its mysterious Hilda. And instead of at Knype, the leave-takings had occurred at the little wayside station of Bleakridge, with wavy3 moorland behind, factory chimneys in front, and cinder4 and shawd heaps all around. Hilda had told Janet: “Mr. Cannon5 may be meeting me at Knype. He’s probably going to London too.” And the discreet6 Janet, comprehending Hilda, had not even mentioned this fact to the rest of the family.
George Cannon, in a light summer suit and straw hat, was already on the platform at Knype. Hilda had feared that at Bleakridge he might be looking out of the window of the local train, which started from Turnhill; she had desired not to meet him in the presence of any of the Orgreaves. But either he had caught the previous train to Knype, or he had driven down. Holding a Gladstone bag and a stick in one hand, he stood talking to another man of about his own age and height. The conversation was vivacious7, at any rate on George Cannon’s part. Hilda passed close by him amid the populous9 stir of the expectant platform. He saw her, turned, and raised his hat, but in a perfunctory, preoccupied10 manner; and instantly resumed the speech to his companion. Hilda recognized the latter. It was ‘young Lawton,’ son and successor to ‘old Lawton,’ the most famous lawyer in the Five Towns. Young Lawton had a branch office at Turnhill, and lived in an important house half-way between Turnhill and Bursley, where, behind the Town Hall, was the historic principal office of the firm.
The express came loudly in, and Hilda, having climbed into a second-class compartment11, leaned out from it, to descry12 her porter and bestow13 on him a threepenny bit. George Cannon and young Lawton were still in argument, and apparently14 quite indifferent to the train. Young Lawton’s thin face had its usual faint, harsh smile; his limbs were moveless in an exasperating15 and obstinate16 calm; Hilda detested17 the man from his mere18 looks. But George Cannon was very obviously under excitement. His face was flushed; he moved his free arm violently—even the Gladstone bag swung to and fro; he punctuated19 his sentences with sharp, angry nods of the head, insisting and protesting and insisting, while the other, saying much less, maintained his damnable stupid disdainful grin.
Would he let the train go, in his feverish20 preoccupation? Hilda was seriously afraid that he would. The last trunks were flung into the front van, the stationmaster in his tall hat waved curtly21 to the glittering guard; the guard waved his flag, and whistled; a porter banged the door of Hilda’s compartment, ignoring her gestures; the engine whistled. And at that moment George Cannon, throwing apparently a last malediction22 at young Lawton, sprang towards the train, and, seeing Hilda’s face, rushed to the door which she strained to open again.
“I was afraid you’d be left behind,” she said, as he dropped his bag on the seat and the affronted23 stationmaster himself shut the door.
“Not quite!” ejaculated Cannon grimly.
The smooth, irresistible24 gliding25 of the train became apparent, establishing a sudden aloof26 calm. Hilda perceived that all her muscles were tense.
In the compartment was a middle-aged27 couple.
“What’s this place?” asked the woman.
“Looks like Tamworth,” said the man sleepily.
“Knype, sir!” George Cannon corrected him very sharply. He was so wrought28 up that he had omitted even to shake hands with Hilda. Making no effort to talk, and showing no curiosity about Hilda’s welfare or doings, he moved uneasily on his seat, and from time to time opened and shut the Gladstone bag. Gradually the flush paled from his face.
At Lichfield the middle-aged couple took advice from a porter and stumbled out of the train.
ii
“We’re fairly out of the smoke now,” said Hilda, when the train began to move again. As a fact, they had been fairly out of the smoke of the Five Towns for more than half an hour; but Hilda spoke29 at random30, timidly, nervously31, for the sake of speaking. And she was as apologetic as though it was she herself who by some untimely discretion32 had annoyed George Cannon.
“Yes, thank God!” he replied fiercely, blowing with pleasure upon the embers of his resentment33. “And I’ll take good care I never go into it again—to live, that is!”
“Really?” she murmured, struck into an extreme astonishment34.
He produced a cigar and a match-box.
“May I?” he demanded carelessly, and accepted her affirmative as of course.
“You’ve heard about my little affair?” he asked, after lighting35 the cigar. And he gazed at her curiously36.
“No.”
“Do you mean to say that none of the Orgreaves have said anything this last day or two?” He leaned forward. They were in opposite corners.
“No,” she repeated stiffly. Nevertheless, she remembered a peculiar37 glance of Tom’s to his father on the previous day, when George Cannon’s name had been mentioned.
“Well,” said he. “You surprise me! That’s all!”
“But—” She stopped, full of misgivings38.
“Never heard any gossip about me—never?” he persisted, as it were, menacing her.
She shook her head.
“Never heard that I’m not really a solicitor39?”
“Oh! well—I think mother once did say something—”
“I thought so.”
“But I don’t understand those things,” she said simply. “Is anything the matter? Is—”
“Nothing!” he replied, calm and convincing. “Only I’ve been done! Done! You’ll hear about it some day, I dare say.... Shall I tell you? Would you like me to tell you?” He smiled rather boyishly and leaned back.
“Yes,” she nodded.
His attitude was very familiar, recalling their former relation of employer and employed. It seemed as natural to her as to him that he should not too ceremoniously conceal40 his feelings or disguise his mood.
“Well, you see, I expect I know as much about law as any of ’em, but I’ve never been admitted, and so—” He stopped, perceiving that she did not comprehend the significance of such a word as ‘admitted.’ “If you want to practise as a solicitor you have to pass examinations, and I never have passed examinations. Very expensive, all that! And I couldn’t afford when I was young. It isn’t the exams that are difficult—you may tell that from the fellows that pass them. Lawton, for instance. But after a certain age exams become a nuisance. However, I could do everything else. I might have had half a dozen situations as managing clerk in the Five Towns if I’d wanted. Only I didn’t want! I wanted to be on my own. I could get clients as quick as any of them. And quicker! So I found Karkeek—the excellent Mr. Karkeek! Another of the bright ones that could pass the exams! Oh! He’d passed the exams all right! He’d spent five years and I don’t know how many hundred pounds in passing the exams, and with it all he couldn’t get above a couple of pounds a week. There are hundreds of real solicitors41 up and down the country who aren’t earning more. And they aren’t worth more. But I gave him more, and a lot more. Just to use his name on my door and my blinds. See? In theory I was his clerk, but in reality he was mine. It was all quite clear. He understood—I should think he did, by Jove!” George Cannon laughed shortly. “Every one understood. I got a practice together in no time. He didn’t do it. He wouldn’t have got a practice together in a thousand years. I had the second-best practice in Turnhill, and I should soon have had the best—if I hadn’t been done.”
“Yes?” said Hilda. The confidence flattered her.
“Well, Karkeek came into some money,—and he simply walked out of the office! Simply walked out! Didn’t give me time to turn round. I’d always treated him properly. But he was jealous.”
“What a shame!” Hilda’s scorn shrivelled up Mr. Karkeek. There was nothing that she detested so much as a disloyalty.
“Yes. I couldn’t stop him, of course. No formal agreement between us. Couldn’t be, in a case like ours! So he had me. He’d taken my wages quick enough as long as it suited him. Then he comes into money, and behaves like that. Jealousy42! They were all jealous,—always had been. I was doing too well. So I had the whole gang down on me instantly like a thousand of bricks. They knew I was helpless, and so they came on. Special meeting of the committee of the North Staffordshire Law Society, if you please! Rumours43 of prosecution—oh yes! I don’t know what!... All because I wouldn’t take the trouble to pass their wretched exams.... Why, I could pass their exams on my head, if I hadn’t anything better to do. But I have. At first I thought I’d retire for five years and pass their exams, and then come back and make ’em sit up. And wouldn’t I have made ’em sit up! But then I said to myself, ‘No. It isn’t good enough.’”
Hilda frowned. “What isn’t?”
“What? The Five Towns isn’t good enough! I can find something better than the law, and I can find something better than the Five Towns!... And here young Lawton has the impudence44 to begin to preach to me on Knype platform, and to tell me I’m wise in going! He’s the President of the local Law Society, you know! No end of a President! And hasn’t even got gumption45 enough to keep his father’s practice together! Stupid ass8! Well, I let him have it, and straight! He’s no worse than the rest. They’ve got no brains in this district. And they’re so narrow—narrow isn’t the word! Thick-headed’s the word. Stupid! Mean!... Mean!... What did it matter to them? I kept to all their rules. There was a real solicitor on the premises46, and there’d soon have been another, if I’d had time. No concern of theirs how the money was divided between me and the real solicitor. But they were jealous—there you are! They don’t understand enterprise. They hate it. Nothing ever moves in the Five Towns. And they’ve got no manners—I do believe that’s the worst. Look at Lawton’s manners! Nothing but a boor47! They aren’t civilized48 yet—that’s what’s the matter with them! That’s what my father used to say. Barbarians49, he used to say. ‘Ce sont des barbares!’... Kids used to throw stones at him because of his neck-tie. The grown-ups chuck a brick at anything they don’t quite fancy. That’s their idea of wit.”
Hilda was afraid of his tempestuous50 mood. But she enjoyed her fear, as she might have enjoyed exposure to a dangerous storm. She enjoyed the sensation of her fragility and helplessness there, cooped up with him in the close intimacy51 of the compartment. She was glad that he did not apologize to her for his lack of restraint, nor foolishly pretend that he was boring her.
“It does seem a shame!” she murmured, her eyes candidly52 admitting that she felt enormously flattered.
He sighed and laughed. “How often have I heard my father say that—‘Ce sont des barbares!’ Peels only brought him over because they could find nobody in the Five Towns civilized enough to do the work that he did.... I can imagine how he must have felt when he first came here!... My God!... Environment!... I tell you what—it’s only lately I’ve realized how I loathe53 the provinces!”
The little interior in which they were, swept steadily54 and smoothly55 across the central sunlit plain of England, passing canals and brooks56 and cottages and churches—silent and stolid57 in that English stupidity that he was criticizing. And Hilda saw of George Cannon all that was French in him. She saw him quite anew, as something rather exotic and entirely58 marvellous. She thought: “When I first met him, I said to myself he was a most extraordinary man. And I was right. I was more right than I ever imagined. No one down there has any idea of what he really is. They’re too stupid, as he says.”
He imposed on her his scorn of the provincial59. She had to share it. She had a vision of the Five Towns as a smoky blotch60 on the remote horizon,—negligible, crass61, ridiculous in its heavy self-complacency. The very Orgreaves themselves were tinged62 with this odious63 English provincialism.
He smiled to himself, and then said, very quietly: “It isn’t of the least importance, you know. In fact I’m rather glad. I’ve never had any difficulty in making money, and when I’ve settled up everything down there I shan’t be precisely64 without. And I shall have no excuse for not branching out in a new line.”
She meekly65 encouraged him to continue.
“Oh yes!” he went on. “The law isn’t the only thing—not by a long way. And besides, I’m sick of it. Do you know what the great thing of the future is, I mean the really great thing—the smashing big thing?” He smiled, kindly66 and confidential67.
She too smiled, shaking her head.
“Well, I’ll tell you. Hotels!”
“Hotels?” She was perfectly68 nonplussed69.
“Hotels! There’ll be more money and more fun to be got out of hotels, soon, than out of any other kind of enterprise in the world. You should see those hotels that are going up in London! They’d give you a start, and no mistake! Yes, hotels! There aren’t twenty people in England who know what a hotel is! But I know!” He paused, and added reflectively, in a comically na?ve tone: “Curious how these things come to you, bit by bit! Now, if it hadn’t been for Sarah—and that boarding-house—”
He was using his straw hat as a fan. With an unexpected and almost childlike gesture he suddenly threw the hat up on to the rack above his head, “How’s that?”
“What a boy he is, after all!” thought Hilda sympathetically, wondering why in the midst of all her manifold astonishment she felt so light-hearted and gay.
“Funny parcel you’ve got up there!” he idly observed, glancing from one rack to the other.
The parcel contained Mrs. Orgreave’s generous conception of a repast proper to be eaten in a train in place of high tea. He helped her to eat it.
As the train approached London he resumed his manhood. And he was impeccably adult as he conducted her from Euston to King’s Cross, and put her into a train in a corner of the station that the summer twilight70 had already taken possession of.
iii
Late at night Hilda sat with Sarah Gailey in the landlady’s small bedroom at the Cedars71. It was lighted by a lamp, because the builder of the house, hating excess, had thought fit not to carry gas-pipes higher than the first floor. A large but old bedstead filled half the floor space. On the shabby dressing-table a pile of bills and various papers lay near the lamp. Clothes were hung behind the door, and a vague wisp of muslin moved slightly in the warm draught72 from the tiny open window. There were two small cane-chairs, enamelled, on which the women sat, close to each other, both incommoded by the unwholesome sultriness of the only chamber73 that could be spared for the private use of the house-mistress. This small bedroom was Sarah Gailey’s home; its amenities74 were the ultimate nightly reward of her labours. If George Cannon had obtained possession of the Cedars as an occupation for Sarah, this room and Sarah’s pleasure therein were the sole justification75 of the entire mansion76.
As Hilda looked at Sarah Gailey’s bowed head, but little greyed, beneath the ray of the lamp, and at her shrivelled, neurotic77, plaintive78 face in shadow, and at her knotty79 hands loosely clasped, she contrasted her companion and the scene with the youthfulness and the spaciousness80 and the sturdy gay vigour81 of existence in the household of the Orgreaves. She thought, with a renewed sense of the mysterious strangeness of life: “Last night I was there, far away—all those scores of miles of fields and towns are between!—and to-night I am here. Down there I was nothing but an idler. Here I am the strongest. I am indispensable. I am the one person on whom she depends. Without me everything will go to pieces.” And she thought of George Cannon’s vast enigmatic projects concerning grand hotels. In passing the immense pile of St. Pancras on the way from Euston to King’s Cross, George Cannon had waved his hand and said: “Look at that! Look at that! It’s something after that style that I want for a toy! And I’ll have it!” Yes, the lofty turrets82 of St. Pancras had not intimidated83 him. He, fresh from little Turnhill and from defeats, could rise at once to the height of them, and by the force of imagination make them his own! He could turn abruptly84 from the law—to hotels! A disconcerting man! And the mere tone in which he mentioned his enterprise seemed, in a most surprising way, to dignify85 hotels, and even boarding-houses; to give romance to the perfectly unromantic business of lodging86 and catering87!... And the seed from which he was to grow the magic plant sat in the room there with Hilda: that bowed head! The ambition and the dream resembled St. Pancras: the present reality was the Cedars, and Sarah’s poor, stuffy88 little bedroom in the Cedars.
Sarah began to cry, weakly.
“But what’s the matter?” asked Hilda, the strong succourer.
“Nothing. Only it’s such a relief to me you’ve come.”
Hilda deprecated lightly. “I should have come sooner if I’d known. You ought to have sent word before.”
“No, I couldn’t. After all, what is it? I’m only silly. There’s nothing really the matter. The minute you come I can see that. I can even stand those Boutwoods if you’re here. You know George made it up with them; and I won’t say he wasn’t right. But I had to put my pride in my pocket. And yesterday it nearly made me scream out to see Mrs. Boutwood stir her tea.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. It’s nerves, that’s what it is.... Well, I’ve got to go through these.” She fingered the papers on the dressing-table with her left hand while drying her tears with the right. “He’s very wishful for proper accounts, George is. That’s right enough. But—well—I think I can make a shilling go as far as anyone, and choose flesh-meat with anyone, too—that I will say—but these accounts...! George is always wanting to know how much it costs a head a week for this that and the other.... It’s all very well for him, but if he had the servants to look after and—”
“I’m going to keep your accounts for you,” Hilda soothed89 her.
“But—”
“I’m going to keep your accounts for you,” And she thought: “How exactly like mother I was just then!”
It appeared to Hilda that she was making a promise, and shouldering a responsibility, against her will, and perhaps against her common sense. She might keep accounts at the Cedars for a week, a fortnight, a month. But she could not keep accounts there indefinitely. She was sowing complications for herself. Freedom and change and luxury were what she deemed she desired; not a desk in a boarding-house. And yet something within her compelled her to say in a firm, sure, kindly voice:
“Now give me all those papers, Miss Gailey.”
And amid indefinite regret and foreboding, she was proud and happy in her r?le of benefactor.
When Hilda at length rose to go to her own room, Sarah Gailey had to move her chair so that she might pass. At the door both hesitated for an instant, and then Hilda with a sudden gesture advanced her lips. It was the first time she and Sarah had ever kissed. The contact with that desiccated skin intensified90 to an extraordinary degree Hilda’s emotional sympathy for the ageing woman. She thought, poignantly91: “Poor old thing!”
And when she was on the dark little square landing under the roof, Sarah, holding the lamp, called out in a whisper.
“Hilda!”
“Well?”
“Did he say anything to you about Brighton?”
“Brighton?” She perceived with certainty from Sarah’s eager and yet apologetic tone, that the question had been waiting for utterance92 throughout the evening, and that Sarah had lacked courage for it until the kiss had enheartened her. And also she perceived that Sarah was suspecting her of being somehow in conspiracy93 with George Cannon.
“Yes,” said Sarah. “He’s got into his head that Brighton’s the only place for this boarding-house business if it’s to be properly done.”
“He never said a word to me about Brighton,” Hilda whispered positively94.
“Oh!”
Hilda descended95 the stairs, groping. Brighton? What next?
收听单词发音 |
1
benefactor
|
|
| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
unwillingly
|
|
| adv.不情愿地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
wavy
|
|
| adj.有波浪的，多浪的，波浪状的，波动的，不稳定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
cinder
|
|
| n.余烬，矿渣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
cannon
|
|
| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
discreet
|
|
| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
vivacious
|
|
| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
ass
|
|
| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
populous
|
|
| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
preoccupied
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
compartment
|
|
| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
descry
|
|
| v.远远看到；发现；责备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
bestow
|
|
| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
exasperating
|
|
| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
obstinate
|
|
| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
detested
|
|
| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
punctuated
|
|
| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的过去式和过去分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
feverish
|
|
| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
curtly
|
|
| adv.简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
malediction
|
|
| n.诅咒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
affronted
|
|
| adj.被侮辱的，被冒犯的v.勇敢地面对( affront的过去式和过去分词 )；相遇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
irresistible
|
|
| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
gliding
|
|
| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
aloof
|
|
| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
middle-aged
|
|
| adj.中年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
wrought
|
|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
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： |
|
|
|
|
30
random
|
|
| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
nervously
|
|
| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
discretion
|
|
| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
lighting
|
|
| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
misgivings
|
|
| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
solicitor
|
|
| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
solicitors
|
|
| 初级律师( solicitor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
jealousy
|
|
| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
rumours
|
|
| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
impudence
|
|
| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
gumption
|
|
| n.才干 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
premises
|
|
| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
boor
|
|
| n.举止粗野的人；乡下佬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
civilized
|
|
| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
barbarians
|
|
| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
tempestuous
|
|
| adj.狂暴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
intimacy
|
|
| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
candidly
|
|
| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
loathe
|
|
| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
smoothly
|
|
| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
brooks
|
|
| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
stolid
|
|
| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
provincial
|
|
| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
blotch
|
|
| n.大斑点；红斑点；v.使沾上污渍，弄脏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
crass
|
|
| adj.愚钝的，粗糙的；彻底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
tinged
|
|
| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
odious
|
|
| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
meekly
|
|
| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
confidential
|
|
| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
nonplussed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的，陷于窘境的v.使迷惑( nonplus的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
cedars
|
|
| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
draught
|
|
| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
amenities
|
|
| n.令人愉快的事物；礼仪；礼节；便利设施；礼仪( amenity的名词复数 )；便利设施；（环境等的）舒适；（性情等的）愉快 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
justification
|
|
| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
mansion
|
|
| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
neurotic
|
|
| adj.神经病的，神经过敏的；n.神经过敏者，神经病患者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
plaintive
|
|
| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
knotty
|
|
| adj.有结的，多节的，多瘤的，棘手的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
spaciousness
|
|
| n.宽敞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
vigour
|
|
| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
turrets
|
|
| （六角）转台( turret的名词复数 )； （战舰和坦克等上的）转动炮塔； （摄影机等上的）镜头转台； （旧时攻城用的）塔车 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
intimidated
|
|
| v.恐吓；威胁adj.害怕的；受到威胁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
dignify
|
|
| vt.使有尊严；使崇高；给增光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
lodging
|
|
| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
catering
|
|
| n. 给养 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
stuffy
|
|
| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
soothed
|
|
| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
intensified
|
|
| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
poignantly
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
conspiracy
|
|
| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |