When the Saturday came he went down to South-ampton to see theNormannia off.
It was a fantastic decision, useless, undignified, risky1, and he had not the least intention of going when he left home. But when he reached London the hunger that tormented2 him nightly came into the open and demanded its prey3, he forgot everything ex-cept Alec's face and body, and took the only means of seeing them. He did not want to speak to his lover or to hear his voice or to touch him—all that part was over—only to recapture his image before it vanished for ever. Poor wretched Alec! Who could blame him, how could he have acted differently? But oh, the wretchedness it was causing them both.
He got down to the boat in a dream, and awoke there to a new sort of discomfort4: Alec was nowhere in sight, the stewards5 were busy, and it was some time before they brought him to Mr Scudder, an unattractive middle-aged6 man, a tradesman, a cad —brother Fred: with him was a bearded elder—presumably the butcher from Osmington. Alec's main charm was the fresh colouring that surged against the cliff of his hair: Fred, facially the same, was sandy and foxlike, and greasiness7 had replaced the sun's caress8. Fred thought highly of himself, as did Alec, but his was the conceit9 that comes with commercial success and despises manual labour. He did not like having a brother who had chanced to grow up rough, and he thought that Mr Hall, of
whom he had never heard, was out to patronize. This made him insolent10. "Licky's not aboard yet, but his kit11 is," he said. "Inter-ested to see his kit?" The father said, "Plenty of time yet," and looked at his watch. The mother said with compressed lips, "He won't be late. When Licky says a thing Licky means it." Fred said, "He can be late if he likes. If I lose his company I can bear it, but he needn't expect me to help him again. What he's cost me..."
"This is where Alec belongs," Maurice reflected. "These people will make him happier than I could have." He filled a pipe with the tobacco that he had smoked for the last six years, and watched Romance wither12. Alec was not a hero or god, but a man embedded13 in society like himself, for whom sea and woodland and the freshening breeze and the sun were preparing no apoth-eosis. They ought not to have spent that night together in the hotel. It had now raised hopes that were too high. They should have parted with that handshake in the rain.
A morbid14 fascination15 kept him among the Scudders, listening to their vulgarity, and tracing the gestures of his friend in theirs. He tried to be pleasant and ingratiate himself, and failed, for his self-confidence had gone. As he brooded a quiet voice said, "Good afternoon, Mr Hall." He could not reply. The surprise was too complete. It was Mr Borenius. And both of them remem-bered that initial silence of his, and his frightened gaze, and the quick movement with which he removed his pipe from his lips, as if smoking were forbidden by the clergy16.
Mr Borenius introduced himself gently to the company; he had come to see his young parishioner off, since the distance was not great from Penge. They discussed which route Alec would arrive by—there seemed some uncertainty—and Maurice tried to slip off, for the situation had become equivocal. But Mr Borenius checked him. "Going on deck?" he inquired; "I too. I
too." They returned to the air and sunlight; the shallows of Southampton Water stretched golden around them, edged by the New Forest. To Maurice the beauty of the evening seemed ominous17 of disaster.
"Now this is very kind of you," said the clergyman, beginning at once. He spoke18 as one social worker to another, but Maurice thought there was a veil over his voice. He tried to reply—two or three normal sentences would save him—but no words would come, and his underlip trembled like an unhappy boy's. "And the more kind because if I remember rightly you disapprove19 of young Scudder. You told me when we dined at Penge that he was 'a bit of a swine'—an expression that, as applied20 to a fellow creature, struck me. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw you among his friends down here. Believe me, Mr Hall, he will value the attention though he may not appear to. Men like that are more impressionable than the outsider supposes. For good and for evil."
Maurice tried to stop him by saying, "Well . . . what about you?"
"I?Why have I come? You will only laugh. I have come to bring him a letter of introduction to an Anglican priest at Buenos Aires in the hope that he will get confirmed after landing. Absurd, is it not? But being neither a helleriist nor an atheist21 I hold that conduct is dependent on faith, and that if a man is a ``bit of a swine' the cause is to be found in some misapprehension of God. Where there is heresy22, immorality23 will sooner or later ensue. But you—how came you to know so precisely24 when his boat sailed?"
"It... it was advertised." The trembling spread all over his body, and his clothes stuck to him. He seemed to be back at school, defenceless. He was certain that the rector had guessed, or rather that a wave of recognition had passed. A man of the world would have suspected nothing—Mr Ducie hadn't—but
this man had a special sense, being spiritual, and could scent25 out invisible emotions. Asceticism26 and piety27 have their practical side. They can generate insight, as Maurice realized too late. He had assumed at Penge that a white-faced parson in a cassock could never have conceived of masculine love, but he knew now that there is no secret of humanity which, from a wrong angle, orthodoxy has not viewed, that religion is far more acute than science, and if it only added judgement to insight would be the greatest thing in the world. Destitute28 of the religious sense him-self, he never yet encountered it in another, and the shock was terrific. He feared and hated Mr Borenius, he wanted to kill him.
And Alec—when he arrived, he would be flung into the trap too; they were small people, who could take no risk—far smaller, for instance, than Clive and Anne—and Mr Borenius knew this, and would punish them by the only means in his power.
The voice continued; it had paused for a moment in case the victim chose to reply.
"Yes. To speak frankly29, I am far from easy about young Scudder. When he left Penge last Tuesday to go to his parents as he told me, though he never reached them till Wednesday— I had a most unsatisfactory interview with him. He was hard. He resisted me. When I spoke of Confirmation30 he sneered31. The fact being— I could not mention this to you if it weren't for your charitable interest in him—the fact being that he has been guilty of sensuality." There was a pause. "With women. In time, Mr Hall, one gets to recognize that sneer32, that hardness, for fornica-tion extends far beyond the actual deed. Were it a deed only, I for one would not hold it anathema33. But when the nations went a whoring they invariably ended by denying God, I think, and until all sexual irregularities and not some of them are penal34 the Church will never reconquer England. I have reason to believe that he spent that missing night in London. But surely—that must be his train."
He went below, and Maurice, utterly35 to pieces, followed him. He heard voices, but did not understand them; one of them might have been Alec's for all it mattered to him. "This too has gone wrong" began flitting through his brain, like a bat that returns at twilight36. He was back in the smoking-room at home with Clive, who said, "I don't love you any more; I'm sorry," and he felt that his life would revolve37 in cycles of a year, always to the same eclipse. "Like the sun... it takes a year..." He thought his grandfather was speaking to him; then the haze38 cleared, and it was Alec's mother. "It's not like Licky," she gibbered, and vanished.
Like whom? Bells were ringing, a whistle blew. Maurice ran up on deck; his faculties39 had returned, and he could see with extraordinary distinctness the masses of men sorting themselves, those to stop in England, those to go, and he knew that Alec was stopping. The afternoon had broken into glory. White clouds sailed over the golden waters and woods. In the midst of the pageant40 Fred Scudder was raving41 because his unreliable brother had missed the last train, and the women were protesting while they were hustled42 up the gangways, and Mr Borenius and old Scudder were lamenting43 to the officials. How negligible they had all become, beside the beautiful weather and fresh air.
Maurice went ashore44, drunk with excitement and happiness. He watched the steamer move, and suddenly she reminded him of the Viking's funeral that had thrilled him as a boy. The paral-lel was false, yet she was heroic, she was carrying away death. She warped45 out from the quay46, Fred yapping, she swung into the channel to the sound of cheers, she was off at last, a sacrifice, a splendour, leaving smoke that thinned into the sunset, and ripples47 that died against the wooded shores. For a long time he gazed after her, then turned to England. His journey was nearly over. He was bound for his new home. He had brought out the
man in Alec, and now it was Alec's turn to bring out the hero in him. He knew what the call was, and what his answer must be. They must live outside class, without relations or money; they must work and stick to each other till death. But England be-longed to them. That, besides companionship, was their reward. Her air and sky were theirs, not the timorous48 millions' who own stuffy49 little boxes, but never their own souls.
He faced Mr Borenius, who had lost all grasp of events. Alec had completely routed him. Mr Borenius assumed that love be-tween two men must be ignoble50, and so could not interpret what had happened. He became an ordinary person at once, his irony51 vanished. In a straightforward52 and rather silly way he discussed what could have befallen young Scudder and then repaired to visit friends in Southampton. Maurice called after him, "Mr. Borenius do look at the sky—it's gone all on fire," but the rector had no use for the sky when on fire, and disappeared.
In his excitement he felt that Alec was close to him. He wasn't, couldn't be, he was elsewhere in the splendour and had to be found, and without a moment's hesitation53 he set out for Boat-house, Penge. Those words had got into his blood, they were part of Alec's yearnings and blackmailings, and of his own promise in that last desperate embrace. They were all he had to go by. He left Southampton as he had come to it—instinctively—and he felt that not merely things wouldn't go wrong this time but that they daren't, and that the universe had been put in its place. A little local train did its duty, a gorgeous horizon still glowed, and inflamed54 cloudlets which flared55 when the main glory faded, and there was even enough light for him to walk up from the station at Penge through quiet fields.
He entered the estate at its lower end, through a gap in the hedge, and it struck him once more how derelict it was, how un-fit to set standards or control the future. Night was approaching,
a bird called, animals scuttled56, he hurried on until he saw the pond glimmering57, and black against it the trysting place, and heard the water sipping58.
He was here, or almost here. Still confident, he lifted up his voice and called Alec.
There was no answer.
He called again.
Silence and the advancing night. He had miscalculated.
"Likely enough," he thought, and instantly took himself in hand. Whatever happened he must not collapse59. He had done that enough over Clive, and to no effect, and to collapse in this graying wilderness60 might mean going mad. To be strong, to keep calm, and to trust—they were still the one hope.. But the sudden disappointment revealed to him how exhausted61 he was physi-cally. He had been on the run ever since early morning, ravaged62 by every sort of emotion, and he was ready to drop. In a little while he would decide what next should be done, but now his head was splitting, every bit of him ached or was useless and he must rest.
The boathouse offered itself convenientlyfor that purpose. He went in and found his lover asleep. Alec lay upon piled up cushions, just visible in the last dying of the day. When he woke he did not seem excited or disturbed and fondled Maurice's arm between his hands before he spoke. "So you got the wire," he said.
"What wire?"
"The wire I sent off this morning to your house, telling you ..." He yawned, "Excuse me, I'm a bit tired, one thing and another . . . telling you to come here without fail." And since Maurice did not speak, indeed could not, he added, "Andnow we shan't be parted no more, and that's finished."
到了星期六，他赴南安普敦，送诺曼尼亚号起航。
这是个异想天开的决定，无济于事，有损尊严，很危险。当他离开家的时候，丝毫没有这个打算。然而抵达伦敦后，夜夜折磨他的饥饿明目张胆地向他索取猎获物。除了阿列克的脸和身子，他把一切都抛在脑后，就采取了可以见到他们的惟一手段。他并不想跟自己的情人说话，或者听他的声音，要么就摸摸他——这一切均已成为过去—一只想在阿列克的身影永远消逝之前，重新看一遍。可怜的、倒霉的阿列克！谁能责备他呢？他除了这么行事，还能有什么办法呢？然而，哦，他们两个人都一样倒霉。
莫瑞斯像做梦似的上了船。他在那儿清醒过来，一种新的不安袭上心头。阿列克无影无踪，轮船服务员忙得不可开交，过了一会儿，才把他领到斯卡德先生——阿列克的哥哥弗雷德跟前去。这是个粗鄙无礼、枯燥乏味的中年生意人。他身旁那位胡子拉碴的长者想必是奥斯敏顿的屠夫。阿列克主要的魅力是闪现在发际、充满青春活力的红润光泽。弗雷德长得像弟弟，但皮肤是沙色的，令人联想到狐狸。他脸上油腻腻的，取代了弟弟脸上那太阳的爱抚。弗雷德跟阿列克一样，自视甚高。他的自负起因于商业上取得的成功。他瞧不起体力劳动，不料弟弟竟长成了个粗人，他觉得丢面子。他从未听说过霍尔先生的事，就认为此人一定会对他们以恩赐者自居。于是，他摆出一副傲慢的态度。“利基（译注：利基是阿列克的昵称）还没上船呢，可他的行李已经在这儿了。”他说，“你有兴趣看看他的行李吗？”他的父亲说：“时间还蛮充裕。”并瞧了瞧自己的手表。他的母亲把嘴一抿，说：“他不会迟到的，利基说话是算数的。”弗雷德说：“他要是愿意迟到，就随他去吧。他不跟我走，我也经得起。可是他就别指望我再帮助他了，为了他，我花了太多的钱……”
“这就是阿列克所属于的世界。”莫瑞斯仔细考虑道。“这些人比我更能够使他幸福。”他把已经抽了六年的烟丝塞进烟斗，观看着这件风流韵事的破灭。阿列克既不是英雄，也不是神，只不过是跟他一样被社会束缚得一筹莫展的凡人。海洋和森林也罢，使人感到清爽的微风与太阳也罢，都不准备把他神化。他们两个人不该在旅店里共度一夜，这样就萌发了难以企及的希望。他们应该在雨里握完手就分道扬镳。
一种病态的好奇心把他留在斯卡德一家人当中。他倾听他们那粗俗的交谈，从他们的一举一动中寻觅朋友的姿态。他设法快快活活地巴结他们，然而归于失败，因为他没有自信了。他正郁闷地沉思，一个安详的嗓音传到耳际：“你好，霍尔先生。”他吃惊到极点，无言以对。那是博雷尼乌斯先生。他们两个人都不会忘记，起初他怎样默不作声，他那充满了恐惧的眼神，以及他如何飞快地将烟斗从嘴里拔出来，就好像这位教区长禁止他吸烟似的。
博雷尼乌斯先生温和地向斯卡德一家人做了自我介绍。彭杰离这里不远，他为这位年轻的教区居民送行来了。他们谈论着阿列克会沿着哪条路走来——好像有点儿拿不准——莫瑞斯试图溜掉，因为他弄不清该不该在这儿待下去，然而博雷尼乌斯先生拦住了他：“你要到甲板上去吗？”教区长问，“我也去，我奉陪。”他们两个人回到新鲜空气和阳光中来了。南安普敦港的浅滩在他们周围展开，一片金黄色，尽头绵延着新福里斯特（译注：汉普郡一区，范围包括新福里斯特及其沿南安普敦湾和索伦特海峡的城市化的沿海地区，加上该郡西部灵伍德和福丁布里奇周围的农业区）。对莫瑞斯而言，傍晚的美景似乎预示着大祸即将临头。
“谢谢你的好意。”教区长立即开口说。他的口气仿佛是一个社会福利工作者在跟另一个交谈，然而莫瑞斯觉得他是在旁敲侧击。莫瑞斯试图回答——两三句普普通通的话就能救他--但他一句话也说不出来。下嘴唇发颤，就像一个哭丧着脸的少年似的。“假若我没记错的话，你对小斯卡德是感到不满意的，所以你的一片好意就更难能可贵了。咱们在彭杰吃饭的时候，你对我说，他是个‘贪鄙下流的家伙’——竟这样来形容一位同胞，使我吃了一惊。当我在下面瞧见你跟他的亲人们待在一起的时候，我几乎不敢相信自己的眼睛。相信我吧，霍尔先生，他会珍重你对他的关怀，尽管他可能不显露出来。像他那样的人，比局外人所想象的要容易被感动，好也罢，坏也罢。”
莫瑞斯竭力打断他的话说：“那么……你呢？”
“我？我为什么要来呢？你只会笑话我。我给他送来了一封写给布宜诺斯艾利斯的英国国教会牧师的信，希望他上岸之后，就给他施坚振礼。荒唐可笑，对吗？可我既不是古希腊文化的崇拜者，也不是无神论者。我相信人的行动取决于信仰。倘若某人是个‘贪鄙下流的家伙’，归根结底是由于对神有所误解造成的。凡是有异端邪说的地方，迟早会滋生伤风败俗的行为。可是你——究竟是怎样准确地知道他这艘船起航的时间呢？”
“这……这登了广告。”他浑身打起哆嗦来，衣服紧紧地裹在他身上了。他好像重新变成了学童，毫无防备的能力。他确信这位教区长猜出来了，或者毋宁说是灵机一动，明察秋毫。凡人什么也不会怀疑——杜希先生就浑然不觉——然而这位先生却有特殊的感觉。由于他是个神职人员，竟嗅得出肉眼看不见的感情。禁欲主义与虔诚有着实用的一面，它们能够导致洞察力。莫瑞斯领悟到这一点的时候，已经太迟了。在彭杰，他曾认为，像这样一个身穿黑色法衣、脸色苍白的教区长，绝不可能懂得男子之间的同性爱。但现在他知道了，即便是从不公正的角度也罢，反正正统的宗教对人性的任何秘密都曾加以探讨。宗教比科学敏锐厉害得多，倘若除了洞察力，再补充上判断力，宗教就无敌于天下了。莫瑞斯本人是被信仰抛弃了的，他从未跟这样一股力量对峙过，他受到了极度的打击。他对博雷尼乌斯先生恐惧与憎恶交加，恨不得将这个教区长杀掉。
至于阿列克呢——如果这时候到了，也会被丢进陷阱。他们足小人物，担不起风险——比方说，远比克莱夫和安妮弱小得多．博雷尼乌斯先生知道这一点，打算用自己的权力范围内的惟一手段来惩罚他们。
为了给没有还手之力的对方回答的机会，那个声音停顿了一会儿，现在又继续下去了。
“是啊，老实说，关于小斯卡德，我非常不放心。星期二他离开了彭杰，对我说是要到他的父母那儿去。可是他拖到星期三才到家。他动身之前，我跟他面谈过一次，使我不满意到极点。他冷酷无情，他反抗我，当我谈到坚振礼的时候，他嘲笑我。事实上——要不是你对他有着慈悲为怀的兴趣，我是不会跟你提起这件事的——事实上，他犯了淫荡罪。”他顿了一下，“跟女人们。到了一定的时候，霍尔先生，那种嘲笑，那种冷酷无情，就会被识破。因为通奸会发展成比实际行为严重得多的罪恶。倘若这仅仅是个别人的行为，我不会考虑用诅咒将他逐出教会。然而，我认为一旦世界各国人民都道德败坏，最后他们一定会否定神。除非一切不正当的性行为统统受到刑罚，而不是只有其中几桩，教会是永远不能重新征服英国的。我有理由相信，他下落不明的那个晚上是在伦敦度过的。是的，没错儿——他准在这列火车里。”
他走下去了。莫瑞斯的神经受了撼动，跟随着他。他听见了讲话声，然而听不懂。其中的一个嗓音也许是阿列克的，这又与他何干。“又搞糟了。”他浮想联翩，犹如薄暮时分飞回来的蝙蝠。他重返家里的吸烟室，跟克莱夫待在一起。克莱夫说：“我再也不爱你了，请原谅。”他觉得自己的人生每年自转一周，最后总是黯然无光。“跟太阳一样……要花一年工夫……”他觉得外祖父在跟他这么念叨。随后，雾消散了，阿列克的母亲就在跟前。“这简直不像是利基。”她急促不安地说完，无影无踪了。
那么，像谁呢？起航的锣响了，汽笛一声长鸣。莫瑞斯飞奔到甲板上去了。他的感觉和意识恢复了，他能够异常清晰地看到成群的人分为两批-一批留在英国，一批出发。他明白阿列克将留下来。这个下午突然变得光辉灿烂，朵朵白云在金黄色的水和森林上空飘浮。在这场露天表演中，弗雷德‘斯卡德正大发脾气，因为他那个不可信赖的弟弟误了最后一班火车，女人们一面被推推搡搡地催逼着走上舷梯，一面抗议。博雷尼乌斯先生和老斯卡德则向官员哀叹着。天气这么好，空气这么清新，其他的一切都变得无足轻重了。
莫瑞斯上岸了，如醉如痴地沉浸在兴奋与幸福之中。他看着那艘轮船出航。突然，此船使他记起少年时代曾让他心里怦怦直跳的瓦伊金的葬礼。二者没有相似之处，然而该船英姿潇洒，它正把死亡运走。它被缆索牵引到固定的位置后驶出码头，弗雷德大喊大叫着。在一片欢送声中，船急速转向海峡，终于驶到海面上去了。它是个牺牲品，何等壮丽，留下一股烟，越来越淡，逐渐融人到落日的余晖中。还有那些细浪，冲上树木繁茂的海岸，化为乌有。他目送轮船良久，然后把目光转向英国。他的旅程快结束了，他的目的地是那个新家。他把阿列克内部的男子汉亮出来了，现在轮到阿列克来亮出他内部的英雄。他知道什么在召唤自己，也知道自己该怎样回答。他们必须打破阶级的畛域来生活，没有亲属，囊空如洗。他们必须劳动，至兀相依为命。然而英国是属于他们的，结为终身伴侣，这乃是他们所获得的奖赏。英国的空气和天空是属于他们的，却不属于好几百万个胆小鬼。那些人拥有空气混浊的小室，但从未有过自己的灵魂。
他来到博雷尼乌斯先生面前。这位教区长被弄蒙了，阿列克把他彻底击败了。博雷尼乌斯先生认为两个男人相爱必然是可耻的，因而对目前发生的这件事丝毫不能理解。转瞬之间他就变成一个普普通通的人了，他的讥讽消失了。他用一种坦率而相当愚蠢的口吻谈论着小斯卡德到底出了什么事呢？接着就举步去探望南安普敦的一些朋友。莫瑞斯朝着他的背景呼唤：“博雷尼乌斯先生，务必看看天空吧——整个儿着起火来啦。”然而教区长不需要熊熊燃烧的天空，他的踪影消失了。
他兴奋不已，觉得阿列克就在离自己不远的地方。阿列克不在附近，不可能在附近，却在这片辉煌的另外一处，非找到他不可。莫瑞斯片刻也没迟疑，立即赶赴彭杰的船库。“彭杰的船库”已渗入他的血液，阿列克既用它来倾诉思慕，又用它来进行讹诈。当他们最后一次不顾一切地拥抱的时候，莫瑞斯本人也做出过涉及此词的许诺。此词成了他惟一的依靠。他就像来的时候那样，凭着直觉离开了南安普敦——他确信，这次事情不仅不能搞糟，还一点儿差错也不能出。宇宙回到正常的位置上来了。莫瑞斯是乘小小的慢车去的，鲜艳夺目的地平线依然燃烧着，日没后，微云闪出火苗，天空染成一片红。甚至他在彭杰的车站下车，穿过寂静的田野走去的时候，光线还很足。
他从较低的那一头进入这座庄园，是从篱笆的裂缝钻过去的。他再度突然想到这片地何等荒芜，多么不宜把人分成等级，或规定将由谁支配未来。夜幕即将降临，一只鸟儿叫了，一些动物在慌慌张张地窜来窜去。他加快了脚步，一直走到瞧见池面发出微光为止。以池子为背景，幽会场所黑乎乎地映入眼帘，他听见了汩汩的水声。
他抵达这儿了，或者不啻抵达了。他依然充满信心，放声呼唤阿列克。
没有回答。
他又呼唤了一遍。
一片寂静，夜晚逼近了。他判断错了。
“这样的事是完全可能的。”他想道，然而刹那间抑制住了自己。不论发生了什么事，他也绝不能垮掉。克莱夫那次，他已尝够了滋味，徒劳无功。在这片越来越灰暗的荒野中垮掉，意味着会发疯。意志要坚强，保持冷静的头脑，并信任对方——他把最后的一线希望仍寄托于此。但是突然袭上心头的失望感告诉他，自己的身体已吃不消了。大清早以来他就东奔西走，被各种各样的感情蹂躏着，眼看着就要支撑不住了。过一会儿他就决定下一步该做什么，不过，现在他头痛欲裂，浑身酸疼，像散了架似的，他非休息不可。
船库是个方便的安歇处。他踱进去，发现自己的情人正在酣睡。阿列克睡在一摞靠垫上，在最后一抹暮色中，依稀可见。他醒来后，好像既不激动，也不烦闷，用两只手爱抚了一会儿莫瑞斯的胳膊，这才说：“那么，你收到电报啦。”
“什么电报？”
“我给你往家里发了一封电报，告诉你……”他打了个呵欠，“对不起，我有点儿累啦，这呀那呀的……告诉你，务必到这儿来。”莫瑞斯没有吭声，他实在什么也说不出来。于是阿列克补充了一句：“现在咱们再也用不着分手了，就这么决定了。”
收听单词发音 |
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risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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stewards
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| （轮船、飞机等的）乘务员( steward的名词复数 )； （俱乐部、旅馆、工会等的）管理员； （大型活动的）组织者； （私人家中的）管家 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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greasiness
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| n.多脂，油腻，阿谀 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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wither
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| vt.使凋谢，使衰退，(用眼神气势等)使畏缩；vi.枯萎，衰退，消亡 | |
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embedded
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| a.扎牢的 | |
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morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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clergy
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| n.[总称]牧师，神职人员 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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spoke
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| 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 | |
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disapprove
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| v.不赞成，不同意，不批准 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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atheist
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| n.无神论者 | |
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heresy
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| n.异端邪说；异教 | |
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immorality
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| n. 不道德, 无道义 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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asceticism
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| n.禁欲主义 | |
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piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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anathema
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| n.诅咒；被诅咒的人(物)，十分讨厌的人(物) | |
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penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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revolve
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| vi.(使)旋转；循环出现 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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lamenting
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| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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warped
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| 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， | |
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quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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ripples
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| 逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
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timorous
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| adj.胆怯的，胆小的 | |
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stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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56
scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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57
glimmering
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| 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 ) | |
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sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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59
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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60
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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ravaged
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| 毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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