He had really been too ill to go; the penetrating1 dampness of the studio, the nervous strain, the tireless application, all had told on him heavily. But the feverish2 discomfort3 in his head and lungs gave him no rest; it was impossible to lie there in bed and do nothing; besides, he did not care to disappoint his hostess. So he managed to crawl into his clothes, summon a cab, and depart. The raw night air cooled his head and throat; he opened the cab window and let the snow blow in on him.
When he arrived he did not feel much better, although Catharine was glad to see him.
Somebody’s wife was allotted5 to him to take in to dinner, and he executed the commission with that distinction of manner peculiar6 to men of his temperament7.
When the women had withdrawn8 and the men had lighted cigars and cigarettes, and the conversation wavered between municipal reform and contes drolatiques, and the Boznovian attaché had begun an interminable story, and Count Fantozzi was emphasizing his opinion of women by joining the tips of his overmanicured thumb and forefinger9 and wafting10 spectral11 kisses at an annoyed Englishman opposite, Helmer laid down his unlighted cigar and, leaning over, touched his host on the sleeve.
“Hello! What’s up, Philip?” said his host cordially; and Helmer, dropping his voice a tone below the sustained pitch of conversation, asked him the question that had been burning his feverish lips since dinner began.
“I mean the girl in the fluffy13 black gown, with shoulders and arms of ivory, and the eyes of Aphrodite.”
His host smiled. “Where did she sit, this human wonder?”
“Beside Colonel Farrar.”
“Farrar? Let’s see”— he knit his brows thoughtfully, then shook his head. “I can’t recollect15; we’re going in now and you can find her and I’ll —”
His words were lost in the laughter and hum around them; he nodded an abstracted assurance at Helmer; others claimed his attention, and by the time he rose to signal departure he had forgotten the girl in black.
As the men drifted toward the drawing-rooms, Helmer moved with the throng16. There were a number of people there whom he knew and spoke17 to, although through the increasing feverishness18 he could scarce hear himself speak. He was too ill to stay; he would find his hostess and ask the name of that girl in black, and go.
The white drawing-rooms were hot and over-thronged. Attempting to find his hostess, he encountered Colonel Farrar, and together they threaded their way aimlessly forward.
“Who is the girl in black, Colonel?” he asked; “I mean the one that you took in to dinner.”
“A girl in black? I don’t think I saw her.”
“She sat beside you!”
“Beside me?” The Colonel halted, and his inquiring gaze rested for a moment on the younger man, then swept the crowded rooms.
“Do you see her now?” he asked.
“No,” said Helmer, after a moment.
They stood silent for a little while, then parted to allow the Chinese minister thoroughfare — a suave19 gentleman, all antique silks, and a smile “thousands of years old.” The minister passed, leaning on the arm of the general commanding at Governor’s Island, who signaled Colonel Farrar to join them; and Helmer drifted again, until a voice repeated his name insistently20, and his hostess leaned forward from the brilliant group surrounding her, saying: “What in the world is the matter, Philip? You look wretchedly ill.”
“It’s a trifle close here — nothing’s the matter.”
He stepped nearer, dropping his voice: “Catharine, who was that girl in black?”
“What girl?”
“She sat beside Colonel Farrar at dinner — or I thought she did —”
“Do you mean Mrs. Van Siclen? She is in white, silly!”
“No — the girl in black.”
His hostess bent her pretty head in perplexed21 silence, frowning a trifle with the effort to remember.
“There were so many,” she murmured; “let me see — it is certainly strange that I cannot recollect. Wait a moment! Are you sure she wore black? Are you sure she sat next to Colonel Farrar?”
“A moment ago I was certain —” he said, hesitating. “Never mind, Catherine; I?ll prowl about until I find her.”
His hostess, already partly occupied with the animated22 stir around her, nodded brightly; Helmer turned his fevered eyes and then his steps toward the cool darkness of the conservatories23.
But he found there a dozen people who greeted him by name, demanding not only his company but his immediate24 and undivided attention.
“Mr. Helmer might be able to explain to us what his own work means,” said a young girl, laughing.
They had evidently been discussing his sculptured group, just completed for the new fa?ade of the National Museum. Press and public had commented very freely on the work since the unveiling a week since; critics quarreled concerning the significance of the strange composition in marble. The group was at the same time repellent and singularly beautiful; but nobody denied its technical perfection. This was the sculptured group: A vaquero, evidently dying, lay in a loose heap among some desert rocks. Beside him, chin on palm, sat an exquisite25 winged figure, calm eyes fixed26 on the dying man. It was plain that death was near; it was stamped on the ravaged27 visage, on the collapsed28 frame. And yet, in the dying boy’s eyes there was nothing of agony, no fear, only an intense curiosity as the lovely winged figure gazed straight into the glazing29 eyes.
“It may be,” observed an attractive girl, “that Mr. Helmer will say with Mr. Gilbert, ‘It is really very clever, But I don’t know what it means.’” Helmer laughed and started to move away. “I think I’d better admit that at once,” he said, passing his hand over his aching eyes; but the tumult30 of protest blocked his retreat, and he was forced to find a chair under the palms and tree ferns. “It was merely an idea of mine,” he protested, good-humoredly, “an idea that has haunted me so persistently31 that, to save myself further annoyance32, I locked it up in marble.”
“Not at all,” protested Helmer, smiling; “the idea annoyed me until I gave it expression. It doesn’t bother me any more.”
“You said,” observed the attractive girl, “that you were going to tell us all about it.”
“About the idea? Oh no, I didn’t promise that —”
“Please, Mr. Helmer!”
A number of people had joined the circle; he could see others standing35 here and there among the palms, evidently pausing to listen.
“There is no logic36 in the idea,” he said, uneasily —“nothing to attract your attention. I have only laid a ghost —”
He stopped short. The girl in black stood there among the others, intently watching him. When she caught his eye, she nodded with the friendliest little smile; and as he started to rise she shook her head and stepped back with a gesture for him to continue.
“The idea that has always attracted me,” he began slowly, “is purely38 instinctive39 and emotional, not logical. It is this: As long as I can remember I have taken it for granted that a person who is doomed40 to die, never dies utterly41 alone. We who die in our beds — or expect to — die surrounded by the living. So fall soldiers on the firing line; so end the great majority — never absolutely alone. Even in a murder, the murderer at least must be present. If not, something else is there.
“But how is it with those solitary42 souls isolated43 in the world — the lone14 herder who is found lifeless in some vast, waterless desert, the pioneer whose bones are stumbled over by the tardy44 pickets45 of civilization — and even those nearer us — here in our city — who are found in silent houses, in deserted46 streets, in the solitude47 of salt meadows, in the miserable48 desolation of vacant lands beyond the suburbs?”
The girl in black stood motionless, watching him intently.
“I like to believe,” he went on, “that no living creature dies absolutely and utterly alone. I have thought that, perhaps in the desert, for instance, when a man is doomed, and there is no chance that he could live to relate the miracle, some winged sentinel from the uttermost outpost of Eternity49, putting off the armor of invisibility, drops through space to watch beside him so that he may not die alone.”
There was absolute quiet in the circle around him. Looking always at the girl in black, he said:
“Perhaps those doomed on dark mountains or in solitary deserts, or the last survivor50 at sea, drifting to certain destruction after the wreck51 has foundered52, finds death no terror, being guided to it by those invisible to all save the surely doomed. That is really all that suggested the marble — quite illogical, you see.”
In the stillness, somebody drew a long, deep breath; the easy reaction followed; people moved, spoke together in low voices; a laugh rippled53 up out of the darkness. But Helmer had gone, making his way through the half light toward a figure that moved beyond through the deeper shadows of the foliage54 — moved slowly and more slowly. Once she looked back, and he followed, pushing forward and parting the heavy fronds55 of fern and palm and masses of moist blossoms. Suddenly he came upon her, standing there as though waiting for him.
“There is not a soul in this house charitable enough to present me,” he began.
“Then,” she answered laughingly, “charity should begin at home. Take pity on yourself — and on me. I have waited for you.”
That blue radiance which a starless sky sheds lighted her white shoulders; transparent59 shadow veiled the contour of neck and cheeks.
“At dinner,” he said, “I did not mean to stare so — but I simply could not keep my eyes from yours —”
“A hint that mine were on yours, too?”
She laughed a little laugh so sweet that the sound seemed part of the twilight60 and the floating fragrance61. She turned gracefully62, holding out her hand.
“Let us be friends,” she said, “after all these years.”
Her hand lay in his for an instant; then she withdrew it and dropped it caressingly63 upon a cluster of massed flowers.
“Forced bloom,” she said, looking down at them, where her fingers, white as the blossoms, lay half buried. Then, raising her head, “You do not know me, do you?”
“Know you?” he faltered64; “how could I know you? Do you think for a moment that I could have forgotten you?”
“Ah, you have not forgotten me!” she said, still with her wide smiling eyes on his; “you have not forgotten. There is a trace of me in the winged figure you cut in marble — not the features, not the massed hair, nor the rounded neck and limbs — but in the eyes. Who living, save yourself, can read those eyes?”
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Answer me; who alone in all the world can read the message in those sculptured eyes?”
“What do you read there?”
“Pardon for guilt66. You have foreshadowed it unconsciously — the resurrection of the soul. That is what you have left in marble for the mercilessly just to ponder on; that alone is the meaning of your work.”
“The eyes of the dying man are your own,” she said. “Is it not true?”
And still he stood there, groping, probing through dim and forgotten corridors of thought toward a faint memory scarcely perceptible in the wavering mirage68 of the past.
“Let us talk of your career,” she said, leaning back against the thick foliage —“your success, and all that it means to you,” she added gayly.
He stood staring at the darkness. “You have set the phantoms69 of forgotten things stirring and whispering together somewhere within me. Now tell me more; tell me the truth.”
“You are slowly reading it in my eyes,” she said, laughing sweetly. “Read and remember.”
The fever in him seared his sight as he stood there, his confused gaze on hers.
“Is it a threat of hell you read in the marble?” he asked.
“No, no thing of destruction, only resurrection and hope of Paradise. Look at me closely.”
“Who are you?” he whispered, closing his eyes to steady his swimming senses. “When have we met?”
“You were very young,” she said under her breath —“and I was younger — and the rains had swollen71 the Canadian river so that it boiled amber72 at the fords; and I could not cross — alas74!”
A moment of stunning75 silence, then her voice again: “I said nothing, not a word even of thanks when you offered aid . . . I— was not too heavy in your arms, and the ford73 was soon passed —— soon passed. That was very long ago.” Watching him from shadowy sweet eyes, she said:
“For a day you knew the language of my mouth and my arms around you, there in the white sun glare of the river. For every kiss taken and retaken, given and forgiven, we must account —— for every one, even to the last.
“But you have set a monument for us both, preaching the resurrection of the soul. Love is such a little thing — and ours endured a whole day long! Do you remember? Yet He who created love, designed that it should last a lifetime. Only the lost outlive it.”
She leaned nearer:
“Tell me, you who have proclaimed the resurrection of dead souls, are you afraid to die?”
Her low voice ceased; lights broke out like stars through the foliage around them; the great glass doors of the ballroom76 were opening; the illuminated77 fountain flashed, a falling shower of silver. Through the outrush of music and laughter swelling78 around them, a clear far voice called “Fran?oise!”
Again, close by, the voice rang faintly, “Fran?oise! Fran?oise!”
She slowly turned, staring into the brilliant glare beyond.
“My mother,” she said, listening intently. “Will you wait for me?”
“By the memory of our last kiss, wait for me!” she pleaded, her little hand tightening81 on his.
“Where?” he said, with dry lips. “We cannot talk here! — we cannot say here the things that must be said.”
“In your studio,” she whispered. “Wait for me.”
“Do you know the way?”
“I tell you I will come; truly I will! Only a moment with my mother —— then I will be there!”
Their hands clung together an instant, then she slipped away into the crowded rooms; and after a moment Helmer followed, head bent, blinded by the glare.
“You are ill, Philip,” said his host, as he took his leave. “Your face is as ghastly as that dying vaquero’s — by Heaven, man, you look like him!”
“Did you find your girl in black?” asked his hostess curiously.
“Yes,” he said; “good night.”
The air was bitter as he stepped out — bitter as death. Scores of carriage lamps twinkled as he descended82 the snowy steps, and a faint gust83 of music swept out of the darkness, silenced as the heavy doors closed behind him.
He turned west, shivering. A long smear84 of light bounded his horizon as he pressed toward it and entered the sordid85 avenue beneath the iron arcade86 which was even now trembling under the shock of an oncoming train. It passed overhead with a roar; he raised his hot eyes and saw, through the tangled87 girders above, the illuminated disk of the clock tower all distorted — for the fever in him was disturbing everything — even the cramped88 and twisted street into which he turned, fighting for breath like a man stabbed through and through.
“What folly89!” he said aloud, stopping short in the darkness. “This is fever — all this. She could not know where to come —”
Where two blind alleys91 cut the shabby block, worming their way inward from the avenue and from Tenth Street, he stopped again, his hands working at his coat.
“It is fever, fever!” he muttered. “She was not there.”
There was no light in the street save for the red fire lamp burning on the corner, and a glimmer92 from the Old Grapevine Tavern93 across the way. Yet all around him the darkness was illuminated with pale unsteady flames, lighting94 him as he groped through the shadows of the street to the blind alley90. Dark old silent houses peered across the paved lane at their aged4 counterparts, waiting for him.
And at last he found a door that yielded, and he stumbled into the black passageway, always lighted on by the unsteady pallid95 flames which seemed to burn in infinite depths of night.
“She was not there — she was never there,” he gasped96, bolting the door and sinking down upon the floor. And, as his mind wandered, he raised his eyes and saw the great bare room growing whiter and whiter under the uneasy flames.
Suddenly he laughed, and the vast studio rang again.
“Hark!” he whispered, listening intently. “Who knocked?”
There was some one at the door; he managed to raise himself and drag back the bolt.
“You!” he breathed, as she entered hastily, her hair disordered and her black skirts powdered with snow.
“Who but I?” she whispered, breathless. “Listen! do you hear my mother calling me? It is too late; but she was with me to the end.”
He had fallen back into his chair again, and the little busy flames enveloped98 him so that the room began to whiten again into a restless glare. Through it he watched her.
The hour struck, passed, struck and passed again. Other hours grew, lengthening99 into night.
She sat beside him with never a word or sigh or whisper of breathing; and dream after dream swept him, like burning winds. Then sleep immersed him so that he lay senseless, sightless eyes still fixed on her. Hour after hour — and the white glare died out, fading to a glimmer. In densest100 darkness, he stirred, awoke, his mind quite clear, and spoke her name in a low voice.
“Yes, I am here,” she answered gently.
“Is it death?” he asked, closing his eyes.
“Yes. Look at me, Philip.”
His eyes unclosed; into his altered face there crept an intense curiosity. For he beheld101 a glimmering102 shape, wide-winged and deep-eyed, kneeling beside him, and looking him through and through.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
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： |
|
|
|
|
2
feverish
|
|
| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
discomfort
|
|
| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
aged
|
|
| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
allotted
|
|
| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
temperament
|
|
| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
withdrawn
|
|
| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
forefinger
|
|
| n.食指 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
wafting
|
|
| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
spectral
|
|
| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
fluffy
|
|
| adj.有绒毛的，空洞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
lone
|
|
| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
recollect
|
|
| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
throng
|
|
| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
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： |
|
|
|
|
18
feverishness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
19
suave
|
|
| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
insistently
|
|
| ad.坚持地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
animated
|
|
| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
conservatories
|
|
| n.（培植植物的）温室，暖房( conservatory的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
ravaged
|
|
| 毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
collapsed
|
|
| adj.倒塌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
glazing
|
|
| n.玻璃装配业；玻璃窗；上釉；上光v.装玻璃( glaze的现在分词 )；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
tumult
|
|
| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
persistently
|
|
| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
annoyance
|
|
| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
obsession
|
|
| n.困扰，无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
morbid
|
|
| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
logic
|
|
| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
purely
|
|
| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
instinctive
|
|
| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
doomed
|
|
| 命定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
isolated
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
tardy
|
|
| adj.缓慢的，迟缓的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
pickets
|
|
| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
eternity
|
|
| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
survivor
|
|
| n.生存者，残存者，幸存者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
wreck
|
|
| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
foundered
|
|
| v.创始人( founder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
rippled
|
|
| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
fronds
|
|
| n.蕨类或棕榈类植物的叶子( frond的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
stammered
|
|
| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
scented
|
|
| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
valor
|
|
| n.勇气，英勇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
transparent
|
|
| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
fragrance
|
|
| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
gracefully
|
|
| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
caressingly
|
|
| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
faltered
|
|
| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
guilt
|
|
| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
throbbing
|
|
| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
mirage
|
|
| n.海市蜃楼，幻景 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
phantoms
|
|
| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
phantom
|
|
| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
swollen
|
|
| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
amber
|
|
| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
Ford
|
|
| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
stunning
|
|
| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
ballroom
|
|
| n.舞厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
swelling
|
|
| n.肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
hoarsely
|
|
| adv.嘶哑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
ashen
|
|
| adj.灰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
tightening
|
|
| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
gust
|
|
| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
smear
|
|
| v.涂抹；诽谤，玷污；n.污点；诽谤，污蔑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
sordid
|
|
| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
arcade
|
|
| n.拱廊；(一侧或两侧有商店的)通道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
tangled
|
|
| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
cramped
|
|
| a.狭窄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
alley
|
|
| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
alleys
|
|
| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
glimmer
|
|
| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
tavern
|
|
| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
lighting
|
|
| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
pallid
|
|
| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
gasped
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
lengthening
|
|
| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
densest
|
|
| 密集的( dense的最高级 )； 密度大的； 愚笨的； （信息量大得）难理解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
glimmering
|
|
| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |