But in the Murphys the boy discovered none of the richness, wildness, extravagance, and humour of such people as Mike Fogarty, Tim Donovan, or the MacReadys — the Irish he had known at home. The Murphys were hard, sterile8, arid9, meagre, and cruel: they were disfigured by a warped10 and infuriated puritanism, and yet they were terribly corrupt11. There was nothing warm, rich, or generous about them or their lives: it seemed as if the living roots of nature had grown gnarled and barren among the walls and pavements of the city; it seemed that everything that is wild, sudden, capricious, whimsical, passionate12, and mysterious in the spirit of the race had been dried and hardened out of them by their divorce from the magical earth their fathers came from, as if the snarl13 and jangle of the city streets, the barren and earthless angularity of steel and stone and brick had entered their souls. Even their speech had become hard, grey, and sterile: the people were almost inarticulate; it is doubtful if one of them had three hundred words in his vocabulary: the boy noticed that the men especially — Murphy, his two sons, Feeney, and O’Doul — made constant use of a few arid words and phrases, which, with the intonation14 of the voice and a slight convulsive movement of the arms and hands, filled in enormous vacancies15 in thought and feeling, and said all that they could say or wished to say. Chief among these words or phrases was “YOU know?” . . . or “YOU know what I mean?”— words which were uttered with a slight protesting emphasis on “You,” a slight and painful movement of the hands or shoulders, and an air that the listener must fill in for himself all that they wanted to imply. For epithets17 of rich resounding18 rage, for curses thick and opulent with fury, in which he had believed their tongues were apt and their spirits prodigal19, he discovered that they had no more to offer than “Chee!” or “Jeez!” or “Ho-ly Jeez!” or “Christ!” or “HO-ly Christ!” or occasionally “HO-ly Mary!” Finally, they made a constant and stupefying use of that terrible grey abortion20 of a word “guy”: it studded their speech with the numberless monotony of paving brick; without it they would have been completely speechless and would have had to communicate by convulsions of their arms and hands and painful croakings from their tongueless throats — the word fell upon the spirit of the listener with the grey weariness of a cold incessant21 drizzle22; it flowed across the spirit like a river of concrete; hope, joy; the power to feel and think were drowned out under the relentless23 and pitiless aridity24 of its flood.
At first, he thought these words and phrases were part of a meagre but sufficient pattern which they had learned in order to meet the contingencies25 of life and business with alien and Protestant spirits, as waiters in European café‘s, restaurants, and dining-cars will learn a few words of English in order to serve the needs of British and American tourists — he thought this because he saw something sly, closed, conspiratorial26, mocking and full of hatred27 and mistrust, in their relations with people who were not members of their race and their religion; he thought they had a warm, secret and passionate life of their own which never could be known by a stranger. But he soon found that this belief was untrue: even in their conversations with one another, they were almost inarticulate — a race which thought, felt, and spoke28 with the wooden insensitivity of automatons29 or dummies30 on whose waxen souls a few banal31 formulas for speech and feeling had been recorded. He heard some amazing performances: every evening toward six o’clock the family would gather in their dingy32 living-room at the end of the hall, Mr. Feeney and Mr. O’Doul would join them, and then he could hear the voices of the men raised in argument, protest, agreement, denial, affirmation and belief, or scepticism, evoking33 a ghastly travesty34 of all of man’s living moments of faith, doubt, and passion, and yet speaking for hours at a time, with the idiotic35 repetitions of a gramophone held by its needle to a single groove36, a blunted jargon37 of fifty meaningless words:
“What guy?”
“DAT guy!”
“Nah, nah, nah, not him — duh otheh guy!”
“Wich guy do yuh mean — duh big guy?”
“Nah, nah, nah — yuh got it all wrong! — Not HIM— duh little guy!”
“Guh-WAN!”— a derisive38 laugh —“Guh-wan!”
“Watcha tryin’ t’ do — KID me? Dat guy neveh saw de day he could take Grogan. Grogan ‘ud bat his brains out.”
“Guh-WAN! Yer full of prunes39! . . . Watcha tryin’ t’ give me? Dat guy ‘ud neveh take Tommy Grogan in a million yeahs! He couldn’t take Tommy duh best day he eveh saw! Grogan ‘ud have him on de floeh in thirty seconds!”
“HO-ly Ghee!”
“Sure he would!”
“Guh-WAN, Guh-WAN! Yer CRAZY! GROGAN! HO-ly Ghee!”
And this, with laughter, denial, agreement — all the appurtenances of conversation among living men — could go on unweariedly for hours at a time.
Sometimes he would interrupt these conversations for a moment: he would go back to leave a message, to pay the rent, to ask if anyone had called.
As soon as he knocked, the voices would stop abruptly40, the room would grow suddenly hushed, there would be whispers and a dry snickering laughter: in a moment someone would say “Come in,” and he would enter a room full of hushed and suddenly straightened faces. The men would sit quietly or say a word or two of greeting, friendly enough in appearance, but swift sly looks would pass between them, and around the corners of their thin, hard mouths there would be something loose, corrupt and mocking. Mrs. Murphy would rise and come to greet him, her voice filled with a false heartiness41, an unclean courtesy, a horrible and insolent42 travesty of friendliness43, and her face would also have the look of having been suddenly straightened out and solemnly compressed; she would listen with a kind of evil attention, but she would have the same loose, mocking look, and the quiet sly look would pass between her and the others. Then, when he had left them and the door had closed behind him, there would be the same sly silence for a moment, then a low muttering of words, a sudden violence of hard derisive laughter, and someone saying, “HO-ly Jeez!”
He despised them: he loathed44 them because they were dull, dirty, and dishonest, because their lives were stupid, barren, and ugly, for their deliberate and insolent unfriendliness and for the conspiratorial secrecy45 and closure of their petty and vicious lives, entrenched46 solidly behind a wall of violent and corrupt politics and religious fanaticism47, and regarding the alien, the stranger, with the hostile and ignorant eyes of the peasant.
All of the men had a dry, meagre, and brutal49 quality: Mr. Murphy was a little man with a dry, corky figure; he had a grey face, a thin sunken mouth, around which the line of loose mockery was always playing, and a closely cropped grey moustache. The boy always found him in his shirt-sleeves, with his shoes off and his stockinged feet thrust out upon a chair. Feeney, O’Doul, Jimmy and Eddy Murphy, although of various sizes, shapes, and ages, all had thick tallowy-looking skins, hard dull eyes and a way of speaking meagrely out of the corners of their loose thin mouths. Mrs. Murphy was physically50 the biggest of the lot, with a certain quality of ripeness and fertility, however blighted51, that none of the others had: she was a large slatternly woman, with silvery white hair which gave her somehow a look of sly and sinister52 haggishness; she had a high, flaming colour marked with patches of eczematous red, her voice was hearty53 and she had a big laugh, but her face also had the false, hostile and conspiratorial secrecy of the others.
Eddy Murphy, the youngest boy, was also the best of the crowd. All decent and generous impulse had not yet been killed or deadened in him; he still possessed54 a warped and blunted friendliness, the rudiments55 of some youthful feeling for a better, warmer, bolder, and more liberal kind of life. As time went on, he made a few awkward, shamed, and inarticulate advances toward friendship; he began to come into the young man’s room from time to time, and presently to tell him a little of his life at college and his hopes for the future. He was a little fellow, with the same dry, febrile, alert, and corky figure that his father had: he was one of the dark Irish; he had black hair and black eyes, and one of his legs was badly bowed and bent56 outward, the result, he said, of having broken it in a high-school football game. The first time he came into the room he stood around shyly, awkwardly, and mistrustfully for a spell, blurting57 out a few words from time to time, and looking at the books and papers with a kind of dazed and stricken stupefaction.
“Watcha do wit all dese books? Huh?”
“I read them.”
“Guh-WAN! Watcha tryin’ t’ hand me? Y’ ain’t read all dem books! Dey ain’t no guy dat’s read dat much.”
As a matter of fact, there were only two or three hundred books in the place, but he could not have been more impressed if the entire contents of the Widener Library had been stored there.
“Well, I have read them all,” the other said. “Most of them, anyway, and a lot more besides.”
“Guh-WAN! No kiddin’!” he said, in a dazed tone and with an air of astounded58 disbelief. “Watcha want to read so much for?”
“I like to read. Don’t you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. YOU know,” he said painfully, with the slightest convulsive movement of his hands and shoulders. “ . . . ‘S’all right.”
“You have to read for your classes at Boston College, don’t you?”
“DO I?” he cried, with a sudden waking to life. “I’ll say I do! . . . HO-ly Chee! Duh way dose guys pile it on to you is a CRIME!”
There was another awkward silence; he continued to stare at the books and to fumble59 about in an embarrassed and tongue-tied manner, and suddenly he burst out explosively and triumphantly60: “Shakespeare was de greatest poet dat evah lived. He wrote plays an’ sonnets62. A sonnet61 is a pome of foihteen lines: it is composed of two pahts, de sextet an’ de octrave.”
“That’s pretty good. They must make you work out there?”
“DO they?” he cried. “I’ll tell duh cock-eyed world dey do! . . . Do you know who de greatest prose-writeh was?” he burst out with the same convulsive suddenness.
“No . . . who was it? Jonathan Swift?”
“Guh-WAN!”
“Addison? . . . Dryden? . . . Matthew Arnold?” the youth asked hopefully.
“Guh-WAN, Guh-WAN!” he shouted derisively63. “Yuh’re way off!”
“Am I? . . . Who was it then?”
“James Henry Cardinal64 Nooman,” he crowed triumphantly. “Dat’s who it was! . . . Father Dolan said so. . . . Chee! . . . Dey ain’t nuttin’ dat guy don’t know! He’s duh greatest English scholeh livin’! . . . Nooman wrote de Apologia pro16 Vita Suo,” he said triumphantly. “Dat’s Latin.”
“Well, yes, he IS a good writer,” said the other boy. “But Thomas Carlyle is a good writer, too?” he proposed argumentatively.
“Guh-WAN!” shouted Eddy derisively. “Watcha givin’ me?” He was silent a moment; then he added with a grin, “Yuh know de reason why you say dat?”
“No, why?”
“It’s because yuh’re a Sout’paw,” and suddenly he laughed, naturally and good-naturedly.
“A Southpaw? How do you mean?”
“Oh, dat’s duh name de fellows call ’em out at school,” he said.
“Call who?”
“Why, guys like you,” he said. “Dat’s de name we call duh Protestants,” he said, laughing. “We call ’em Sout’paws.”
The word in its connotation of a life that was hostile, hard, fanatic48, and suspicious of everything alien to itself was disgraceful and shameful65, but there was something irresistibly66 funny about it too, and suddenly they both laughed loudly.
After that, they got along together much better: Eddy came in to see the other youth quite often, he talked more freely and naturally, and sometimes he would bring his English themes and ask for help with them.
Such were the Boston Irish as he first saw them; and often as he thought of the wild, extravagant67 and liberal creatures of his childhood — of Mr. Fogarty, Tim Donovan, and the MacReadys — it seemed to him that they belonged to a grander and completely different race; or perhaps, he thought, the glory of earth and air and sky there had kept them ripe and sweet as they always were, while their brothers here had withered68 upon the rootless pavements, soured and sickened in the savage69 tumult70 of the streets, grown hard and dead and ugly in the barren land.
The only person near him in the house, and the only person there the boy saw with any regularity71 was a Chinese student named Wang: he had the room next to him — in fact, he had the two next rooms, for he was immensely rich, the son of a man in the mandarin72 class who governed one of the Chinese provinces.
But his habits and conduct were in marked contrast to those of the average Oriental who attends an American university. These others, studious seekers after knowledge, had come to work. Mr. Wang, a lazy and good-humoured wastrel73 with more money than he could spend, had come to play. And play he did, with a whole-hearted devotion to pleasure that was worthy74 of a better purpose. His pleasures were for the most part simple, but they were also costly75, running to flowered-silk dressing76 gowns, expensively tailored clothes cut in a rakish Broadway style, silk shirts, five-pound boxes of chocolate creams, of which he was inordinately77 fond, week-end trips to New York, stupendous banquets at an expensive Chinese restaurant in Boston, phonograph records, of which he had a great many, and the companionship of “nice flat girls”— by this he meant to say his women should be “fat,” which apparently78 was the primary requisite80 for voluptuous81 pulchritude82.
Mr. Wang himself was just a fat, stupid, indolent, and good-hearted child: his two big rooms in the rear of the Murphy establishment were lavishly83 furnished with carved teak-wood, magnificent screens, fat divans84, couches, and chests. The rooms were always lighted with the glow of dim and sensual lamps, there was always an odour of sandalwood and incense85, and from time to time one heard Mr. Wang’s shrill86 sudden scream of childish laughter. He had two cronies, young Chinese who seemed as idle, wealthy, and pleasure-loving as himself; they came to his rooms every night, and then one could hear them jabbering87 and chattering88 away in their strange speech, and sometimes silence, low eager whisperings, and then screams of laughter.
The boy had grown to know the Chinese very well; Mr. Wang had come to him to seek help on his English composition themes — he was not only stupid but thoroughly89 idle, and would not work at anything — and the boy had written several for him. And Mr. Wang, in grateful recompense, had taken him several times to magnificent dinners of strange delicious foods in the Chinese restaurant, and was for ever urging on him chocolates and expensive cigarettes. And no matter where the Chinaman saw him now, whether in his room, or on the street, or in the Harvard Yard, he would always greet him with one joke — a joke he repeated over and over with the unwearied delight of a child or an idiot. And the joke was this: Mr. Wang would come up slyly, his fat yellow face already beginning to work, his fat throat beginning to tremble with hysterical90 laughter. Then, wagging his finger at the young American, the Chinaman would say:
“Lest night I see you with big flat girl. . . . Yis, yis, yis,” he would scream with laughter as the young man started to protest, shaping voluptuous curves meanwhile with his fat yellow hands —“Big flat girl — like this — yis, yis, yis!” he would scream again, and bend double, choking, stamping at the ground, “nice flat girl — like this — yis, yis, yis, yis, yis.”
He had perpetrated this “joke” so often, and at such unseasonable places, that it had now become embarrassing. He seemed, in fact, to delight in coming upon his victim while he was in serious conversation with some dignified-looking person, and he had already caught the boy three times in this way while he was talking to Dodd, to Professor Hatcher, and finally to a professor with a starched91 prim79 face, who had taught American Literature for thirty years, and whose name was Fust. Nothing could be done to stop him; protests at the impropriety of the proceeding92 only served to set him off again; he was delighted at the embarrassment93 he caused and he would shout down every protest rapturously, screaming, “Yis, yis, yis — nice flat girl — like this, eh,” and would shape fat suggestion with his fat hands.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
lodgers
|
|
| n.房客，租住者( lodger的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
warehouse
|
|
| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
eddy
|
|
| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
middle-aged
|
|
| adj.中年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
rheumatism
|
|
| n.风湿病 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
sterile
|
|
| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
arid
|
|
| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
warped
|
|
| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
corrupt
|
|
| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
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： |
|
|
|
|
13
snarl
|
|
| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
intonation
|
|
| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
vacancies
|
|
| n.空房间( vacancy的名词复数 )；空虚；空白；空缺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
pro
|
|
| n.赞成，赞成的意见，赞成者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
epithets
|
|
| n.（表示性质、特征等的）词语( epithet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
resounding
|
|
| adj. 响亮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
prodigal
|
|
| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
abortion
|
|
| n.流产，堕胎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
incessant
|
|
| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
drizzle
|
|
| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
relentless
|
|
| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
aridity
|
|
| n.干旱，乏味；干燥性；荒芜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
contingencies
|
|
| n.偶然发生的事故，意外事故( contingency的名词复数 )；以备万一 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
conspiratorial
|
|
| adj.阴谋的，阴谋者的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
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： |
|
|
|
|
29
automatons
|
|
| n.自动机，机器人( automaton的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
dummies
|
|
| n.仿制品( dummy的名词复数 )；橡皮奶头；笨蛋；假传球 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
banal
|
|
| adj.陈腐的，平庸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
dingy
|
|
| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
evoking
|
|
| 产生，引起，唤起( evoke的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
travesty
|
|
| n.歪曲，嘲弄，滑稽化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
idiotic
|
|
| adj.白痴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
groove
|
|
| n.沟，槽；凹线，（刻出的）线条，习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
jargon
|
|
| n.术语，行话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
derisive
|
|
| adj.嘲弄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
prunes
|
|
| n.西梅脯，西梅干( prune的名词复数 )v.修剪（树木等）( prune的第三人称单数 )；精简某事物，除去某事物多余的部分 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
heartiness
|
|
| 诚实，热心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
insolent
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
friendliness
|
|
| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
loathed
|
|
| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
secrecy
|
|
| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
entrenched
|
|
| adj.确立的，不容易改的(风俗习惯) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
fanaticism
|
|
| n.狂热，盲信 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
fanatic
|
|
| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
brutal
|
|
| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
physically
|
|
| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
blighted
|
|
| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
sinister
|
|
| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
rudiments
|
|
| n.基础知识，入门 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
blurting
|
|
| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
astounded
|
|
| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
fumble
|
|
| vi.笨拙地用手摸、弄、接等，摸索 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
triumphantly
|
|
| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
sonnet
|
|
| n.十四行诗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
sonnets
|
|
| n.十四行诗( sonnet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
derisively
|
|
| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
cardinal
|
|
| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
shameful
|
|
| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
irresistibly
|
|
| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
extravagant
|
|
| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
withered
|
|
| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
tumult
|
|
| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
regularity
|
|
| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
Mandarin
|
|
| n.中国官话，国语，满清官吏；adj.华丽辞藻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
wastrel
|
|
| n.浪费者；废物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
costly
|
|
| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
dressing
|
|
| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
inordinately
|
|
| adv.无度地，非常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
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： |
|
|
|
|
80
requisite
|
|
| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
voluptuous
|
|
| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
pulchritude
|
|
| n.美丽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
lavishly
|
|
| adv.慷慨地，大方地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
divans
|
|
| n.（可作床用的）矮沙发( divan的名词复数 )；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
85
incense
|
|
| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
jabbering
|
|
| v.急切而含混不清地说( jabber的现在分词 )；急促兴奋地说话；结结巴巴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
chattering
|
|
| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
hysterical
|
|
| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
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： |
|
|
|
|
92
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
embarrassment
|
|
| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |