“Dear Sir: I should be pleased to have your company for dinner Wednesday evening at eight-thirty at the ‘Cock House Tavern’ on Brattle Street. In case of your acceptance will you kindly2 call at my rooms in Holyoke House, opposite the Widener Library, at seven-fifteen?
“Sincerely yours,
“FRANCIS STARWICK.”
He read that curt3 and cryptic4 note over and over with feelings mixed of astonishment5 and excitement. Who was Francis Starwick? Why should Francis Starwick, a stranger of whom he had never heard, invite him to dinner? And why was that laconic6 note not accompanied by a word of explanation?
It is likely he would have gone anyway, from sheer curiosity, and because of the desperate eagerness with which a young man, alone in a strange world for the first time, welcomes any hope of friendship. But before the day was over, he had learned from another student in Professor Hatcher’s celebrated7 course for dramatists, of which he himself was now a member, that Francis Starwick was Professor Hatcher’s assistant; and correctly inferring that the invitation had some connection with this circumstance, he resolved to go.
In this way, his acquaintance began with that rare and tragically9 gifted creature who was one of the most extraordinary figures of his generation and who, possessing almost every talent that an artist needs, was lacking in that one small grain of common earth that could have saved him, and brought his work to life.
No fatality10 rested on that casual meeting. He could not have foreseen in what strange and sorrowful ways his life would weave and interweave with this other one, nor could he have known from any circumstance of that first meeting that this other youth was destined11 to be that triune figure in his life, of which each man knows one and only one, in youth, and which belongs to the weather of man’s life, and to the fabric12 of his destiny: his friend, his brother — and his mortal enemy. Nor was there, in the boy he met that night, any prefigurement of the tragic8 fatality with which that brilliant life was starred, the horrible end toward which, perhaps, it even then was directed.
They were both young men, and both filled with all the vanity, anguish13 and hot pride of youth, and with its devotion and humility14; they were both strong in their proud hope and faith and untried confidence; they both had shining gifts and powers and they were sure the world was theirs; they were splendid and fierce and weak and strong and foolish; the prescience of wild swelling15 joy was in them; and the goat cry was still torn from their wild young throats. They knew that the most fortunate, good and happy life that any man had ever known was theirs, if they would only take it; they knew that it impended16 instantly — the fortune, fame, and love for which their souls were panting; neither had yet turned the dark column, they knew that they were twenty, and that they could never die.
Francis Starwick, on first sight, was a youth of medium height and average weight, verging17 perhaps toward slenderness, with a pleasant ruddy face, brown eyes, a mass of curly auburn-reddish hair, and a cleft18 chin. The face in its pleasant cast and healthy tone, and spacious19, quiet intelligence was strikingly like those faces of young Englishmen which were painted by Hoppner and Sir Henry Raeburn towards the beginning of the nineteenth century. It was an attractive, pleasant immensely sensitive and intelligent face, but when Starwick spoke20 this impression of warmth and friendliness21 was instantly destroyed.
He spoke in a strange and rather disturbing tone, the pitch and timbre22 of which it would be almost impossible to define, but which would haunt one who had heard it for ever after. His voice was neither very high nor low, it was a man’s voice and yet one felt it might almost have been a woman’s; but there was nothing at all effeminate about it. It was simply a strange voice compared to most American voices, which are rasping, nasal, brutally23 coarse or metallic24. Starwick’s voice had a disturbing lurking25 resonance26, an exotic, sensuous27, and almost voluptuous28 quality. Moreover, the peculiar29 mannered affectation of his speech was so studied that it hardly escaped extravagance. If it had not been for the dignity, grace, and intelligence of his person, the affectation of his speech might have been ridiculous. As it was, the other youth felt the moment’s swift resentment30 and hostility31 that is instinctive32 with the American when he thinks some one is speaking in an affected33 manner.
As Starwick welcomed his guest his ruddy face flushed brick-red with the agonizing34 embarrassment35 of a shy and sensitive person to whom every new meeting is an ordeal36; his greeting was almost repellently cold and formal, but this, too, with the studied affectation of his speech, was protective armour37 for his shyness.
“A-d’ye-do?” he said, shaking hands, the greeting coming from his throat through lips that scarcely seemed to move. “It was good of you to come.”
“It was good of you to ask me,” the other boy said awkwardly, fumbled38 desperately39 for a moment, and then blurted40 out —“I didn’t know who you were at first — when I got your note — but then somebody told me:— you’re Professor Hatcher’s assistant, aren’t you?”
“Ace,” said Starwick, this strange sound which was intended for “yes” coming through his lips in the same curious and almost motionless fashion. The brick-red hue41 of his ruddy face deepened painfully, and for a moment he was silent —“Look!” he said suddenly, yet with a casualness that was very warm and welcome after the stilted42 formality of his greeting, “would you like a drink? I have some whisky.”
“Why, yes — sure — certainly,” the other stammered43, almost feverishly44 grateful for the diversion —“I’d like it.”
Starwick opened the doors of a small cupboard, took out a bottle, a siphon, and some glasses on a tray, and placed them on a table.
“Help yourself,” he said. “Do you like it with soda45 — or plain water — or how?”
“Why — any way you do,” the other youth stammered. “Aren’t you going to drink? I don’t want to unless you do.”
“Ace,” said Starwick again, “I’ll drink with you. I like the soda,” he added, and poured a drink for himself and filled it with the siphon. “Go on. Pour your own. . . . Look,” he said abruptly46 again, as the other youth was awkwardly manipulating the unaccustomed siphon. “Do you mind if I drink mine while I’m shaving? I just came in. I’d like to shave and change my shirt before we go out. Do you mind?”
“No, of course not,” the other said, grateful for the respite47 thus afforded. “Go ahead. Take all the time you like. I’ll drink my drink and have a look at your books, if you don’t mind.”
“Please do,” said Starwick, “if you find anything you like. I think this is the best chair.” He pushed a big chair up beneath a reading lamp and switched the light on. “There are cigarettes on the table,” he said in his strange mannered tone, and went into the bathroom, where, after a moment’s inspection48 of his ruddy face, he immediately began to lather49 himself and to prepare for shaving.
“This is a nice place you have here,” the visitor said presently, after another awkward pause, during which the only sound was the minute scrape of the razor blade on Starwick’s face.
“Quite,” he answered concisely50, in his mannered tone, and with that blurred51 sound of people who try to talk while they are shaving. For a few moments the razor scraped on. “I’m glad you like it,” Starwick said presently, as he put the razor down and began to inspect his work in the mirror. “And what kind of place did you find for yourself? Do you like it?”
“Well, it will do, I guess,” the other boy said dubiously52. “Of course, it’s nothing like this — it’s not an apartment; it’s just a room I rented.”
“Ace,” said Starwick from the bathroom. “And where is that?”
“It’s on a street called Buckingham Road. Do you know where that is?”
“Oh,” said Starwick coldly, and he craned carefully with his neck, and was silent a moment as he did a little delicate razor-work around the Adam’s apple. “Ace,” he said at length as he put the razor down again. “I think I do. . . . And how did you happen to go out there?” he inquired coldly as he began to dry his face on a towel. “Did some one tell you about the place?”
“Well — yes. I knew about it before I came. It’s a room in a house that some people I know have rented.”
“Oh,” said Starwick coldly, formally again, as he thrust his arms into a fresh shirt. “Then you do know people here in Cambridge?”
“Well, no: they are really people from home.”
“Home?”
“Yes — from my own state, the place I came from, where I went to school before I came here.”
“Oh,” said Starwick, buttoning his shirt, “I see. And where was that? What state are you from?”
“Catawba.”
“Oh. . . . And you went to school down there?”
“Yes. To the State University.”
“I see. . . . And these people who have the house where you are living now — what are they doing here?”
“Well, the man — he’s a professor at the State University down there — he’s up here getting some sort of degree in education.”
“In what?”
“In education.”
“Oh. I see. . . . And what does his wife do; has he got a wife?”
“Yes; and three children. . . . Well,” the other youth said uncertainly, and then laughed suddenly, “I haven’t seen her do anything yet but sit on her tail and talk.”
“Ace?” said Starwick, knotting his tie very carefully. “And what does she talk about?”
“Of people back home, mostly — the professors at the University, and their wives and families.”
“Oh,” said Starwick gravely, but there was now lurking in his voice an indefinable drollery53 of humour. “And does she say nice things about them?” He looked out towards his guest with a grave face, but a sly burble in his voice now escaped him and broke out in an infectious chuckling54 laugh. “Or is she —” for a moment he was silent, trembling a little with secret merriment, and his pleasant face reddened with laughter —“or is she,” he said with sly insinuation —“bitter?”
The other, somehow conquered by the sly yet broad and vulgar humour in Starwick’s tone, broke out into a loud guffaw55, and said:
“God! she’s bitter — and nothing but! That’s just the word for it.”
“Has anyone escaped yet?” said Starwick slyly.
“Not a damned one of them,” the other roared. “She’s worked her way from the President and his family all the way down to the instructors56. Now she’s started on the people of the town. I’ve heard about every miscarriage57 and every dirty pair of drawers that ever happened there. We’ve got a bet on, a friend of mine from home who’s also staying there — he’s in the Law School — whether she’s going to say anything good about anyone before the year is over.”
“And which side have you?” said Starwick.
“I say she won’t — but Billy Ingram says she will. He says that the last time she said anything good about anyone was when someone died during the influenza58 epidemic59 in 1917; and he claims she’s due again.”
“And what is the lady’s name?” said Starwick. He had now come out into the living room and was putting on his coat.
“Trotter,” the other said, feeling a strange convulsive humour swelling in him. “Mrs. Trotter.”
“What?” said Starwick, his face reddening and the sly burble appearing in his voice again. “Mrs. — who?”
“Mrs. Trotter!” the other choked, and the room rang suddenly with their wild laughter. When it had subsided60, Starwick blew his nose vigorously, and his pleasant face still reddened with laughter, he asked smoothly61:
“And what does Professor Trotter say while this is going on?”
“He doesn’t say anything,” the other laughed. “He can’t say anything. He just sits there and listens. . . . The man’s all right. Billy and I feel sorry for him. He’s got this damned old shrew of a wife who sits there talking ninety to the minute, and three of the meanest, dirtiest, noisiest little devils you ever saw falling over his feet and raising hell from morning to night, and this sloppy62 nigger wench they brought up with them from the South — the place looks like an earthquake hit it, and the poor devil is up here trying to study for a degree — it’s pretty hard on him. He’s a nice fellow, and he doesn’t deserve it.”
“God!” said Starwick frankly63 and gravely, “but it sounds dreary64! Why did you ever go to such a place?”
“Well, you see, I didn’t know anyone in Cambridge — and I had known these people back home.”
“I should think that would have made you anxious to avoid them,” Starwick answered. “And it’s most important that you have a pleasant place to work in. It really is, you know,” he said earnestly and with a note of reproof65 in his mannered tone. “You really should be more careful about that,” he said.
“Yes, I suppose it is. You certainly have a good place here.”
“Ace,” said Starwick. “It is very pleasant. I’m glad you like it.”
He came out, with his drink in his hand, put the drink down on a table and sat down beside it, crossing his legs and reaching for one of the straw-tipped cigarettes in a small and curiously66 carved wooden box. The impression he made on the other youth was one of magnificence and luxury. The boy’s rooms seemed to fit his sensuous and elegant personality like a glove: he was only twenty-two years old, but his distinctive67 and incomparable quality was everywhere about him in these two rooms.
To the unaccustomed eyes of the younger boy, these modest rooms seemed to be the most magnificent apartment he had seen. For a moment he thought that Starwick must be an immensely wealthy person to live in such a way. The fact that a man so young should live in such splendid and luxurious68 independence — that he should “have his own place,” an apartment of his own, instead of a rented room, the thrilling solitudes69 of midnight privacy to himself, the freedom to come and go as he pleased, to do as he wished, to invite to his place whoever he chose, “to bring a girl there” whenever he wanted, without fear or the need for stealth — all these simple things which are just part of the grand and hopeful joy of youth, which the younger boy had never known, but to which he had aspired70, as every youth aspires71, in many a thrilling fantasy — now made Starwick’s life seem almost impossibly fortunate, happy and exciting.
And yet it was not merely his own inexperience that made Starwick seem so wealthy. Starwick, although he had no regular income save a thousand dollars a year which he received for his work as Professor Hatcher’s assistant, and small sums he got from time to time from his family — he was, incredibly enough, the youngest of a middle-western family of nine children, small business and farming people in modest circumstances — gave the impression of wealth because he really was a wealthy person: he had been born wealthy, endowed with wealth by nature. In everything he did and said and was, in all he touched, in the whole quality of his rare and sensuous personality there was an opulence72 of wealth and luxury such as could not be found in a hundred millionaires. He had that rare and priceless quality that is seldom found in anyone, and almost never in Americans, of being able to give to any simple act or incident a glamour73 of luxury, pleasure, excitement. Thus, when he smoked a cigarette, or drank a drink, or invited someone to go with him to the theatre, or ordered a meal in a shabby Italian restaurant, or made coffee in his rooms, or talked of something he had read in a book, or tied his neck-tie — all these things had a rare, wonderful and thrilling quality in them that the richest millionaire in the world could not have bought for money. And for this reason, people were instantly captivated by the infinite grace and persuasiveness74 of Starwick’s personality: he had the power, as few people in the world have ever had the power, instantly to conquer and command the devotion of people because, while they were with him, everything in the world took on a freshness, wonder, joy and opulence it had never had before, and for this reason people wanted to be near him, to live in this thrilling enchantment75 that he gave to everything.
Even as he sat there smoking, drinking and talking with his guest, he did a simple and characteristic thing that yet seemed wonderful and thrilling to the other boy.
“Look,” said Starwick suddenly, getting up, going over to one of his bookshelves and switching on a light. “Look,” he said again, in his strangely fibred voice, “did you ever read this?”
As he uttered these words he took a book from one of the shelves and put on his spectacles. There was something strange and wonderful about the spectacles, and in the way he put them on, quietly, severely76, plainly; the spectacles had thick old-fashioned silver rims77, and silver handles. Their plain, honest and old-fashioned sobriety was somehow remarkable78, and as he put them on, with a patient and quiet movement, and turned his attention to the pages of the book, the gravity and maturity79 of quiet and lonely thought in the boy’s face and head were, remarkably80 evident.
“Did you ever read this?” he said quietly, turning to the other youth, and handing him the book. It was a copy of George Moore’s Confessions81 of a Young Man: the other replied he had not read it.
“Then,” said Starwick, “why don’t you take it along with you? It’s really quite amusing.” He switched off the light above the bookshelves, took off his glasses with a quiet tired movement, and folding them and putting them in his breast pocket, came back to the table and sat down.
“I think it may interest you,” he said.
Although the other boy had always felt an instinctive repulsion towards books which someone else urged him to read, something in Starwick’s simple act had suddenly given the book a strange rare value: he felt a strange and pleasurable excitement when he thought about it, and was instantly eager and curious to read it. Moreover, in an indefinable way, he had understood, the moment that Starwick turned to him, that he was GIVING, and not LENDING him the book; and this act, too, instantly was invested with a princely and generous opulence. It was this way with everything that Starwick did: everything he touched would come instantly to life with grace and joy; his was an incomparable, an enslaving power — a Midas-gift of life and joy almost too fortunate and effortless for one man to possess and in the end, like all his other gifts of life and joy, a power that would serve death, not life, that would spread corruption82 instead of health, and that finally would turn upon its owner and destroy him.
Later, when they left his rooms and went out on the street, the sensuous quickening of life, the vital excitement and anticipation83 which Starwick was somehow able to convey to everything he did and give to everyone he knew and liked, was constantly apparent. It was a fine clear night in early October, crispness and an indefinable smell of smoke were in the air, students were coming briskly along the street, singly or in groups of two or three, light glowed warmly in the windows of the book-shops, pharmacies84, and tobacco stores near Harvard Square, and from the enormous library and the old buildings in the Harvard Yard there came a glow of lights, soft, rich, densely85 golden, embedded86 in old red brick.
All of these things, vital, exciting, strangely, pleasurably stirring as they were, gained a curious enhancement from Starwick’s presence until they gave to the younger boy not only a feeling of sharp, mounting, strangely indefinable excitement, but a feeling of power and wealth — a sense of being triumphant87 and having before him the whole golden and unvisited plantation88 of the world to explore, possess and do with as he would — the most fortunate and happy life that any man had ever known.
Starwick went into a tobacco shop to cash a cheque and the whole place, with its pungent89 smells of good tobacco, its idling students, its atmosphere of leisure and enjoyment90, became incomparably wealthy, rich, exciting as it had never been before.
And later, when the two young men had gone into the “Cock House Tavern” on Brattle Street, the prim91 and clean little rooms of the old house, the clean starched92 waitresses and snowy tablecloth93, the good food, and several healthy and attractive-looking girls of the New England type all gained an increased value. He felt a thrill of pleasurable anticipation and a feeling of unlimited94 wealth, simply because Starwick was there ordering the meal, conferring on everything around him the sense of wealth and ease and nameless joy which his wonderful personality, with its magic touch, instantly gave to anything on earth.
Yet during the meal the feeling of hostile constraint95 between the two young men was not diminished, but grew constantly. Starwick’s impeccable cold courtesy — really the armour of a desperately shy person — his mannered tone, with its strange and disturbing accent, the surgical96 precision of his cross-examination into the origin, experience, and training of the other youth sharpened a growing antagonism97 in the other’s spirit, and put him on his guard. Moreover, failure to give any information about himself — above all his complete reticence98 concerning his association with Professor Hatcher and the reason for his curt and brusquely-worded invitation to dinner — all this began to bear now with oppressive weight upon the other’s spirit. It seemed to him there was a deliberate arrogance99 in this cold reticence. He began to feel a sullen100 resentment because of this secretive and mysterious conduct. And later that evening when the two young men parted, the manner of each of them was cold and formal. They bowed stiffly, shook hands with each other coldly, and marched away. It was several months before the younger would again talk to Starwick, and during that period he thought of him with a feeling of resentment, almost of dislike.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
costly
|
|
| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
curt
|
|
| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
cryptic
|
|
| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
laconic
|
|
| adj.简洁的；精练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
tragically
|
|
| adv. 悲剧地，悲惨地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
fatality
|
|
| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
fabric
|
|
| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
anguish
|
|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
humility
|
|
| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
swelling
|
|
| n.肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
impended
|
|
| v.进行威胁，即将发生( impend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
verging
|
|
| 接近，逼近（verge的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
cleft
|
|
| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
spacious
|
|
| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
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： |
|
|
|
|
21
friendliness
|
|
| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
timbre
|
|
| n.音色，音质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
brutally
|
|
| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
metallic
|
|
| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
lurking
|
|
| 潜在 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
resonance
|
|
| n.洪亮；共鸣；共振 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
sensuous
|
|
| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
voluptuous
|
|
| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
hostility
|
|
| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
instinctive
|
|
| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
agonizing
|
|
| adj.痛苦难忍的；使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦；折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
embarrassment
|
|
| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
ordeal
|
|
| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
armour
|
|
| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
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： |
|
|
|
|
39
desperately
|
|
| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
blurted
|
|
| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
hue
|
|
| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
stilted
|
|
| adj.虚饰的；夸张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
stammered
|
|
| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
feverishly
|
|
| adv. 兴奋地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
soda
|
|
| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
respite
|
|
| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
inspection
|
|
| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
lather
|
|
| n.(肥皂水的)泡沫，激动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
concisely
|
|
| adv.简明地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
blurred
|
|
| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
dubiously
|
|
| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
drollery
|
|
| n.开玩笑，说笑话；滑稽可笑的图画（或故事、小戏等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
chuckling
|
|
| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
guffaw
|
|
| n.哄笑；突然的大笑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
instructors
|
|
| 指导者，教师( instructor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
miscarriage
|
|
| n.失败，未达到预期的结果；流产 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
influenza
|
|
| n.流行性感冒，流感 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
epidemic
|
|
| n.流行病；盛行；adj.流行性的，流传极广的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
subsided
|
|
| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
smoothly
|
|
| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
sloppy
|
|
| adj.邋遢的，不整洁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
reproof
|
|
| n.斥责，责备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
distinctive
|
|
| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
luxurious
|
|
| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
solitudes
|
|
| n.独居( solitude的名词复数 )；孤独；荒僻的地方；人迹罕至的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
aspired
|
|
| v.渴望，追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
aspires
|
|
| v.渴望，追求( aspire的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
opulence
|
|
| n.财富，富裕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
glamour
|
|
| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
persuasiveness
|
|
| 说服力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
enchantment
|
|
| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
severely
|
|
| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
rims
|
|
| n.（圆形物体的）边( rim的名词复数 )；缘；轮辋；轮圈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
maturity
|
|
| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
remarkably
|
|
| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
confessions
|
|
| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
corruption
|
|
| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
anticipation
|
|
| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
pharmacies
|
|
| 药店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
densely
|
|
| ad.密集地；浓厚地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
embedded
|
|
| a.扎牢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
triumphant
|
|
| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
plantation
|
|
| n.种植园，大农场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
pungent
|
|
| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
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： |
|
|
|
|
92
starched
|
|
| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
tablecloth
|
|
| n.桌布，台布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
unlimited
|
|
| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
constraint
|
|
| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
surgical
|
|
| adj.外科的，外科医生的，手术上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
antagonism
|
|
| n.对抗，敌对，对立 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
reticence
|
|
| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
arrogance
|
|
| n.傲慢，自大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
sullen
|
|
| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |