Louisa Uncontrolled
i
Hilda, after a long railway journey, was bathing her face, arms, and neck at the large double washstand in the large double bedroom on the second floor of No. 59 Preston Street. At the back of the washstand was an unused door which gave into a small bedroom occupied by the youngest Miss Watchett. George Cannon1 came up quietly behind her. She pretended not to hear him. He put his hands lightly on her wet arms. Smiling with condescending2 indulgence, half to herself, she still pretended to ignore him, and continued her toilet.
The return from the honeymoon3, which she had feared, had accomplished4 itself quite simply and easily. She had feared the return, because only upon the return was the marriage to be formally acknowledged and published. It had been obviously impossible to announce, during the strenuous5 summer season, the engagement of the landlord to a young woman who lived under the same roof with him. The consequences of such an indiscretion would have been in various ways embarrassing. Hence not a word was said. Nor were definite plans for the wedding made until George remarked one evening that he would like to be married at Chichester, Chichester being the name of his new private hotel. Which exhibition of sentimentality had both startled and touched Hilda. Chichester, however, had to be renounced6, owing to the difficulty of residence. The subject having been thus fairly broached7, George had pursued it, and one day somewhat casually8 stated that he had taken a room in Lewes and meant to sleep there every night for the term imposed by the law. Less than three weeks later, Hilda had inobtrusively departed from No. 59, the official account being that she was to take a holiday with friends after the fatigues9 of August and early September. She left the train at Lewes, and there, in the presence of strangers, was married to George Cannon, who had quitted Brighton two days earlier and was supposed to be in London on business. Even Sarah Gailey, though her health had improved, did not assist at the wedding. Sarah, sole depositary of the secret, had to remain in charge of No. 59.
A strange wedding! Not a single wedding present, except those interchanged by the principals! Nor had any of the problems raised by the marriage been solved, or attacked. The future of Sarah Gailey, for example! Was Sarah to go on living with them? It was inconceivable, and yet the converse10 was also inconceivable. Sarah had said nothing, and nothing had been said to Sarah. Matters were to settle themselves. It had not even been decided11 which room Mr. and Mrs. Cannon should inhabit as man and wife. It was almost certain that, in the dead period between the popular summer season and the fashionable autumn season, there would be several bedrooms empty. Hilda, like George, did not want to bother with a lot of tedious details, important or unimportant. The attitude of each was: “Let me get married first, and then I’ll see to all that.”
Thus had the return been formidable to Hilda. All the way from Ireland she had been saying to herself: “I shall have to go up the steps, and into the house, and be spoken to as Mrs. Cannon! And then there’ll be Sarah...!” But the entry into the house had produced no terror. Everywhere George’s adroitness13 had been wonderful, extraordinarily15 comforting and reassuring16, and nowhere more so than in the vestibule of No. 59. The tone in which he had said to Louisa, “Take Mrs. Cannon’s handbag, Louisa,” had been a marvel17 of ease. Louisa had incontestably blenched18, for the bizarre Sarah, who conserved19 in Brighton the inmost spirit of the Five Towns, had thought fit to tell the servants nothing whatever. But the trained veteran in Louisa had instantly recovered, and she had replied “Yes, sir,” with a simplicity20 which proved her to be the equal of George Cannon.... The worst was over for Hilda. And the next moments were made smooth by reason of a great piece of news which, forcing Sarah Gailey to communicate it at once, monopolized21 attention, and so entirely22 relieved the bride’s self-consciousness.
Florence Bagster, having insolently23 quarrelled with her mistress, had left her service without notice. Mr. Boutwood had also gone, and the connection between the two departures was only too apparent, not merely to Sarah, but also to the three Miss Watchetts, who had recently arrived. Florence, who could but whisper, had shouted at her mistress. Little, flushing, modest Florrie, who yesterday in the Five Towns was an infant, had compromised herself with a fat widower25 certainly old enough to be her father. And the widower, the friend of the house, had had so little regard for the feelings of the house that he had not hesitated to flaunt26 with Florrie in the town. It was known that they were more or less together, and that he stood between Florrie and the world.
ii
“I suppose I’d better write at once to her mother—or perhaps her aunt; her aunt’s got more sense,” said Hilda, as she dropped the sponge and groped for a towel, her eyes half blinded.
In moving she had escaped from his hands.
“What do you say?” she asked, having heard a vague murmur27 through the towel.
“I say you can write if you like.” George spoke12 with a careless smile.
Now, facing her, he put his hands on her damp shoulders. She looked up at him over the towel, leaning her head forward, and suspending action. Her nose was about a foot from his. She saw, as she had seen a hundred times, every detail of his large, handsome and yet time-worn face, every hair of his impressive moustache, all the melting shades of colour in his dark eyes. His charm was coarse and crude, but he was very skilful28, and there was something about his experienced, weather-beaten, slightly depraved air, which excited her. She liked to feel young and girlish before him; she liked to feel that with him, alone of all men, her modesty29 availed nothing. She was beginning to realize her power over him, and the extent of it. It was a power miraculous30 and mysterious, never claimed by her, and never admitted by him save in glance and gesture. This power lay in the fact that she was indispensable to him. He was not her slave—she might indeed have been considered the human chattel—but he was the slave of his need of her. He loved her. In him she saw what love was; she had seen it more and more clearly ever since the day of their engagement. She was both proud and ashamed of her power. He did not possess a similar power over herself. She was fond of him, perhaps getting fonder; but his domination of her senses was already nearly at an end. She had passed through painful, shattering ecstasies31 of bliss32, hours unforgettable, hours which she knew could never recur33. And she was left sated and unsatisfied. So that by virtue34 of this not yet quite bitter disillusion35, she was coming to regard herself as his superior, as being less na?ve than he, as being even essentially36 older than he. And in speaking to him sometimes she would put on a grave and precociously37 sapient38 mien39, as if to indicate that she had access to sources of wisdom for ever closed to him.
“But don’t you think we ought to write?” she frowned.
“Certainly if you like! It won’t do any good. You don’t suppose her aunt will come down here, do you? And even if she did.... There it is, and there you are!”
“Just let me wipe my shoulders, will you?” she said.
He lifted his hands obediently, and as they were damp he rubbed them on the loose corner of the towel.
“Well,” he said, “I must be off, I reckon.”
“Shall you see Mr. Boutwood?”
“I might.... I know where to catch him, I fancy.”
She seemed to have a glimpse of her husband’s separate life in the town—masculine haunts and habits of which she knew nothing and would always know nothing. And the large existence of the male made her envious40.
“Going to see him now?”
“Well, yes.” George smiled roguishly.
“What shall you say to him?”
“What can I say to him? No business of mine, you know, except that we’ve lost a decent servant. But I expect that’s Sarah’s fault. She’s no use whatever with servants, now, Sarah isn’t.”
“I shall never speak to Mr. Boutwood again!” Hilda exclaimed almost passionately41.
“Oh, but—”
“His behaviour is simply scandalous. It’s really wicked. A man like him!”
George put his lips out deprecatingly. “You may depend she asked for it,” he said.
“What?”
“She asked for it,” he repeated with convinced firmness, and looked at her steadily42.
A flush slowly spread over her face and neck, and she lowered her gaze. In her breast pride and shame were again mingled43.
“You keep your hair on, littl’un,” said George soothingly44, and kissed her. Then he took his hat and stick, which were with a lot of other things on the broad white counterpane, and went off stylishly45.
“You don’t understand,” she threw at him with a delicious side-glance of reproof46 as he opened the door. She reproached herself for the deceiving coquetry of the glance.
“Don’t I?” he returned airily.
He was quite sure that nothing escaped his intelligence. To Hilda, shocked by the coarseness and the obtuseness47 which evidently characterized his attitude, now as on other occasions, this self-confidence was desolating48; it was ominously49 sinister50.
iii
She was alone with her image in the mirror, and the image was precisely51 the same that she had always seen; she could detect no change in it whatever. She liked the sensation of being alone and at home in this room which before she had only entered as an overseer and which she had never expected to occupy. She savoured the intimacy52 of the room—the necessaries on the washstand, the superb tortoiseshell brushes, bought by George in Dublin, on the dressing-table, the open trunks, George’s clothes on a chair, and her own flimsy trifles on the bed. Through the glass she saw, behind her image, the image of the closed door; and then she turned round to look at the real door and to assure herself that it was closed. Childish! And yet...! George had shut the door. She remembered the noise of its shutting. And that noise, in her memory, seemed to have transformed itself into the sound of fate’s deep bell. She could hear the clang, sharp, definite. She realized suddenly and with awe53 that her destiny was fixed54 hereafter. She had come to the end of her adventures and her vague dreams. For she had always dreamt vaguely55 of an enlarged liberty, of wide interests, and of original activities—such as no woman to her knowledge had ever had. She had always compared the life of men with the life of women, and admitted and resented the inferiority of the latter. She had had glimpses, once, of the male world; she had made herself the only woman shorthand-writer in the Five Towns, and one of the earliest in England—dizzy thought! But the glimpses had been vain and tantalizing56. She had been in the male world, but not of it, as though encircled in a glass ball which neither she nor the males could shatter. She had had money, freedom, and ambition, and somehow, through ignorance or through lack of imagination or opportunity, had been unable to employ them. She had never known what she wanted. The vision had never been clear. And she reflected: “I wonder if my daughter, supposing I had one, would be as different from me as I am from my mother!”
She could recall with intense vividness the moment when she had first really contemplated57 marriage. It was in the steam-tram after having seen Edwin Clayhanger at the door of Clayhanger’s shop. And she could recall the sense of relief with which she had envisaged58 a union with some man stronger and more experienced than herself. In the relief was a certain secret shame, as though it implied cowardice59, a shrinking away from the challenge of life and from the call of a proud instinct. In the steam-tram she had foreseen the time when she would belong utterly60 to some man, surrendering to him without reserve, the time when she would be a woman. And the thing had come about! Only yesterday she had been a little girl entering George Cannon’s office with timid audacity61 to consult him. Only yesterday George Cannon had been a strange, formidable man, indefinitely older and infinitely62 cleverer than she. And now they were man and wife! Now she was his! Now she profoundly knew him, and he was no longer formidable, in spite of his force. She had a recondite63 dominion64 over him. She guessed herself to be his superior in certain qualities. He was revealed to her; she felt that she was not revealed to him, and that in spite of her wholehearted surrender she had not given all because of his blindness to what she offered. She could not completely respect him. But she was his. She was naught65 apart from him. She was the wife. His existence went on mainly as before; hers was diverted, narrowed—fundamentally altered. Never now could she be enfranchised66 into the male world!
iv
She slipped her arms into a new bodice purchased in London on the second day of the marriage. Blushing, she had tried on that bodice in a great shop in Oxford67 Street; then it was that she had first said ‘my husband’ in public. All that day she had felt so weak and shy and light and helpless and guilty that she had positively68 not known what she was doing; she had moved in a phantom69 world. Only, she had perceived quite steadily and practically that she must give more attention to her clothes. Her old contempt for finery expired in the glory of her new condition. And now, as she settled the elegant bodice on her shoulders, and fastened it, and patted her hair, and picked up the skirt and poised70 it over her head, she had a stern, preoccupied71 look, as of one who said: “This that I am doing is important. I must not be hurried in doing it. It is vital that I should look well and that no detail of my appearance should jar.” Already she could see herself standing72 before George when he returned for the meal—the first meal which they would take together in the home. She could feel his eyes on her: she could anticipate her own mood—in which would be mingled pride, misgiving73, pleasure, helplessness, abandonment—and the secret condescension74 towards him of her inmost soul.
All alone in the room she could feel his hands again on her shoulders: a mysterious excitation.... She was a married woman. She had the right to discuss Florrie’s case with aloof75 disdain76, if she chose. Her respectability was unassailable. None might penetrate77 beyond the fact of her marriage. And yet, far within her, she was ashamed. She dimly admitted once more, as on several occasions previous to her marriage, that she had dishonoured78 an ideal. Her conscience would not chime with the conscience of society. She thought, as she prepared with pleasurable expectancy79 for her husband: “This is not right. This cannot lead to good. It must lead to evil. I am bound to suffer for it. The whole thing is wrong. I know it and I have always known it.”
Already she was disappointed with her marriage. Amid the fevers of bodily appetite she could clearly distinguish the beginning of lassitude; she no longer saw her husband as a romantic and baffling figure; she had explored and chartered his soul, and not all his excellences80 could atone81 for his earthliness. She wondered grimly where and under what circumstances he had acquired the adroitness which had charmed and still did charm her. She saw in front of her a vista82 of days and years in which ennui83 would probably increase and joy diminish. And she put her shoulders back defiantly84, and thought: “Well, here I am anyhow! I wanted him and I’ve got him. What I have to go through I shall go through!”
And all the time, floating like vapour over these depths was a sheeny mood of bright expectation and immediate85 na?ve content. And she said gaily86 that she must write at once to Janet Orgreave to announce the marriage, and that her mother’s uncle up in the north must also be informed.
v
Unusual phenomena87 made themselves apparent on the top staircase: raised voices which Hilda could hear more and more plainly, even through the shut door. At No. 59, in the off-seasons, nobody ever spoke in a loud tone, particularly on the staircase, except perhaps Florrie when, in conversation with Louisa, she thought she was out of all other hearing. Hilda’s voice was very clear and penetrating88, but not loud. George Cannon’s voice in public places such as the staircase had an almost caressing89 softness. The Watchetts cooed like faint doves, thereby90 expressing the delicate refinement91 of their virginal natures. The cook’s voice was unknown beyond the kitchen. And nobody was more grimly self-controlled in speech than Sarah Gailey and Louisa. These two—and especially Louisa—seemed generally to be restraining with ease tremendous secret forces of bitterness and contempt. And now it was just these two who were noisy, and becoming noisier, to the dismay of a scandalized house. Owing to some accident or negligence92 the secret forces had got loose.
Hilda shook her head. It was clear that the problem of Sarah Gailey would have to be tackled and settled very soon. The poor woman’s physical sufferings had without doubt reacted detrimentally93 on her temperament94 and temper. She used to be quite extraordinarily adroit14 in the directing of servants, though her manner to them never approached geniality95. But she had quarrelled with Florrie, and now she was breaking the peace with Louisa! It was preposterous96 and annoying, and it could not be allowed to continue. Hilda was not seriously alarmed, because she had the most perfect confidence in George’s skill to restore order and calm, and to conquer every difficulty of management; and she also put a certain trust in herself; but the menacing and vicious accents of Louisa startled her, and she sympathized with Sarah Gailey, for whom humiliation97 was assuredly in store—if not immediately at the tongue of Louisa, then later when George would have to hint the truth to her about her decadence98.
The dispute on the attic99 landing appeared to be concerning linen100 which Louisa had omitted to remove from Florrie’s abandoned couch in her kennel101.
“I ain’t going to touch her sheets, not for nobody!” Louisa proclaimed savagely102. And by that single phrase, with its implications, she laid unconsciously bare the sordid103 baseness of her ageing heart; she exposed by her mere24 intonation104 of the word ‘sheets’ all the foulness105 of jealousy106 and thwarted107 salacity that was usually concealed108 beneath her tight dress and neat apron109, and beneath her prim110 gestures and deferential111 tones. Her undisciplined voice rang spinsterishly down the staircase, outraging112 it, defiling113 the whole interior.
Hilda as silently as possible unlatched the door of the bedroom, and stood with ear cocked. Should she issue forth114 and interfere115, or should she remain discreetly116 where she was? Almost in the same instant she heard the cautious unlatching of the drawing-room door; two of the Watchetts were there listening also. And there came up from the ground floor a faint giggle117. The cook, at the kitchen door, was enjoying herself and giggling118 moral support to her colleague. The giggle proved that the master was out, that the young mistress had not yet established a definite position, and that during recent weeks the old mistress must have been steadily dissipating her own authority. Hilda peered along the landing from her lair119, and upstairs and downstairs; she could see nothing but senseless carpets and brass120 rods and steps and banisters; but she knew that the entire household—she had the sensation that the very house itself—was alert and eavesdropping121.
There was a hesitating movement on the unseen stairs above, and then Hilda could see Sarah Gailey’s felt slippers122 and the valance of her skirt. And she could hear Sarah’s emotional breathing.
“Very well, Louisa, I’ve done!” Sarah’s voice was quieter now. She was trying to control it, and to a limited extent was controlling its volume. It shook in spite of her. She spoke true. She had indeed done. She was at the end of her resources.
“I’ve been in houses,” Louisa conqueringly sneered123, “that I have! But I never been in a house afore where one as ought to have been scullery-girl went off with a boarder, and nothing said, and him the friend of the master! And it isn’t as if that was all!... Sheets, indeed!”
“I’ve nothing further to say,” Sarah returned unnecessarily, and descended124 the stair. “I shall simply report to Mr. Cannon. We shall see.”
“And what’s this about Mrs. Cannon?” Louisa shouted, beside herself.
The peculiarity125 of her tone arrested Sarah Gailey. Hilda flushed. The Watchetts were listening. The Watchetts had not yet been told of the marriage. The announcement was to be made to them formally, a little later. And now it was Louisa who was making the announcement, brutally126, coarsely. The outrage127 of the episode was a hundredfold intensified128; it grew into an inconceivable ghastly horror. Hilda’s self-respect seemed to have a physical body and Louisa to be hacking129 at it with a jagged knife.
“Mr. Cannon has brought his wife home,” said Sarah Gailey shortly, with a dignity and courage that increased as her distance from the appalling130, the incredible Louisa. Hilda could see her pale face now. The eyebrows131 and chin were lifted in scorn of the vile132 menial, but the poor head was trembling.
“And what about his other wife?”
“Louisa!”—Sarah Gailey looked again up the stairs—“I know you’re in a temper and not responsible for what you say. But you’d better be careful.” She spoke with elaborate haughty133 negligence.
“Had I?” Louisa shrilled134. “What I say is, what about his other wife? What about the old woman he married in Devonshire? Why, God bless me, Florrie was full of it—couldn’t talk about anything else in bed of a night! Didn’t you know the old woman’d been inquiring for her beautiful ‘usband down your way?” She laughed loudly. “Turnhill—what’s-its-name?... And all of you lying low, and then making out all of a sudden as he’s brought his wife home! A nice house! And I’ve been in a few, too!”
Hilda could feel her heart beating with terrific force against her bodice, but she was conscious of no other sensation. She heard a loud snort of shattering contempt from Louisa; and then a strange and terrific silence fell on the stairs. There was no sound even of a movement. The Watchetts did not stir; the cook did not stir; Sarah Gailey did not stir; Louisa’s fury was sated. The empty landing lay, as it were, expectant at Hilda’s door.
Then Sarah Gailey perceived Hilda half hidden in the doorway135, and staggeringly rushed towards her. In an instant they were both in the bedroom and the door shut.
“When will George be back so that he can put her out of the house?” Sarah whispered frantically136.
“Soon, I expect,” said Hilda, and felt intensely self-conscious.
They said no more. And it was as though the house were besieged137 and invested, and only in that room were they safe, and even in that room only for a few moments.
收听单词发音 |
1
cannon
|
|
| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
condescending
|
|
| adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
honeymoon
|
|
| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
strenuous
|
|
| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
renounced
|
|
| v.声明放弃( renounce的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
broached
|
|
| v.谈起( broach的过去式和过去分词 )；打开并开始用；用凿子扩大（或修光）；（在桶上）钻孔取液体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
casually
|
|
| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
fatigues
|
|
| n.疲劳( fatigue的名词复数 )；杂役；厌倦；（士兵穿的）工作服 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
converse
|
|
| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
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： |
|
|
|
|
13
adroitness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
adroit
|
|
| adj.熟练的，灵巧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
extraordinarily
|
|
| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
reassuring
|
|
| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
marvel
|
|
| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
blenched
|
|
| v.（因惊吓而）退缩，惊悸( blench的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）变白，（使）变苍白 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
conserved
|
|
| v.保护，保藏，保存( conserve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
monopolized
|
|
| v.垄断( monopolize的过去式和过去分词 )；独占；专卖；专营 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
insolently
|
|
| adv.自豪地，自傲地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
widower
|
|
| n.鳏夫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
flaunt
|
|
| vt.夸耀，夸饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
skilful
|
|
| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
modesty
|
|
| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
miraculous
|
|
| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
ecstasies
|
|
| 狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 )； 出神； 入迷； 迷幻药 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
bliss
|
|
| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
recur
|
|
| vi.复发，重现，再发生 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
disillusion
|
|
| vt.使不再抱幻想，使理想破灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
essentially
|
|
| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
precociously
|
|
| Precociously | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
sapient
|
|
| adj.有见识的，有智慧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
mien
|
|
| n.风采；态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
envious
|
|
| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
passionately
|
|
| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
soothingly
|
|
| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
stylishly
|
|
| adv.时髦地，新式地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
reproof
|
|
| n.斥责，责备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
obtuseness
|
|
| 感觉迟钝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
desolating
|
|
| 毁坏( desolate的现在分词 )； 极大地破坏； 使沮丧； 使痛苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
ominously
|
|
| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
sinister
|
|
| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
intimacy
|
|
| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
tantalizing
|
|
| adj.逗人的；惹弄人的；撩人的；煽情的v.逗弄，引诱，折磨( tantalize的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
contemplated
|
|
| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
envisaged
|
|
| 想像，设想( envisage的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
cowardice
|
|
| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
audacity
|
|
| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
infinitely
|
|
| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
recondite
|
|
| adj.深奥的，难解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
dominion
|
|
| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
naught
|
|
| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
enfranchised
|
|
| v.给予选举权( enfranchise的过去式和过去分词 )；（从奴隶制中）解放 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
Oxford
|
|
| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
phantom
|
|
| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
poised
|
|
| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
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： |
|
|
|
|
72
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
misgiving
|
|
| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
condescension
|
|
| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
aloof
|
|
| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
disdain
|
|
| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
penetrate
|
|
| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
dishonoured
|
|
| a.不光彩的，不名誉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
expectancy
|
|
| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
excellences
|
|
| n.卓越( excellence的名词复数 )；（只用于所修饰的名词后）杰出的；卓越的；出类拔萃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
atone
|
|
| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
vista
|
|
| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
ennui
|
|
| n.怠倦，无聊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
defiantly
|
|
| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
gaily
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
phenomena
|
|
| n.现象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
penetrating
|
|
| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
caressing
|
|
| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
thereby
|
|
| adv.因此，从而 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
refinement
|
|
| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
negligence
|
|
| n.疏忽，玩忽，粗心大意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
detrimentally
|
|
| adv.有害地，不利地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
temperament
|
|
| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
geniality
|
|
| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
preposterous
|
|
| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
humiliation
|
|
| n.羞辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
decadence
|
|
| n.衰落，颓废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
attic
|
|
| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
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： |
|
|
|
|
101
kennel
|
|
| n.狗舍，狗窝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
savagely
|
|
| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
sordid
|
|
| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
intonation
|
|
| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
foulness
|
|
| n. 纠缠, 卑鄙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
jealousy
|
|
| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
thwarted
|
|
| 阻挠( thwart的过去式和过去分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
apron
|
|
| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
prim
|
|
| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
deferential
|
|
| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
outraging
|
|
| 引起…的义愤，激怒( outrage的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
113
defiling
|
|
| v.玷污( defile的现在分词 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
discreetly
|
|
| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
giggle
|
|
| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
giggling
|
|
| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
lair
|
|
| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
eavesdropping
|
|
| n. 偷听 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
slippers
|
|
| n. 拖鞋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
sneered
|
|
| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
peculiarity
|
|
| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
brutally
|
|
| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
outrage
|
|
| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
intensified
|
|
| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
hacking
|
|
| n.非法访问计算机系统和数据库的活动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
appalling
|
|
| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
eyebrows
|
|
| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
vile
|
|
| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
shrilled
|
|
| （声音）尖锐的，刺耳的，高频率的( shrill的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
frantically
|
|
| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
besieged
|
|
| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |