It’s astonishing in this world how things don’t turn out at all the way youexpect them to!
We’d moved into our house and were living there and we’d got awayfrom everyone just the way I’d meant and planned. Only of course wehadn’t got away from everyone. Things crowded back upon us across theocean and in other ways.
First of all there was Ellie’s blasted stepmother. She sent letters andcables and asked Ellie to go and see estate agents. She’d been so fascin-ated, she said, by our house that she really must have a house of her ownin England. She said she’d love to spend a couple of months every year inEngland. And hard on her last cable she arrived and had to be takenround the neighbourhood with lots of orders to view. In the end she moreor less settled on a house. A house about fifteen miles away from us. Wedidn’t want her there, we hated the idea—but we couldn’t tell her so. Orrather, what I really mean is even if we had told her so, it wouldn’t havestopped her taking it if she’d wanted to. We couldn’t order her not to comethere. It was the last thing Ellie wanted. I knew that. However, while shewas still awaiting a surveyor’s report, some cables arrived.
Uncle Frank, it seemed, had got himself into a jam of some kind. Some-thing crooked1 and fraudulent, I gathered, which would mean a big sum ofmoney to get him out. More cables passed to and fro between Mr. Lippin-cott and Ellie. And then there turned out to be some trouble between Stan-ford Lloyd and Lippincott. There was a row about some of Ellie’s invest-ments. I had felt, in my ignorance and credulity, that people who were inAmerica were a long way away. I’d never realized that Ellie’s relationsand business connections thought nothing of taking a plane over to Eng-land for twenty- four hours and then flying back again. First StanfordLloyd flew over and back again. Then Andrew Lippincott flew over.
Ellie had to go up to London and meet them. I hadn’t got the hang ofthese financial things. I think everybody was being fairly careful in whatthey said. But it was something to do with the settling up of the trusts onEllie, and a kind of sinister2 suggestion that either Mr. Lippincott haddelayed the matter or it was Stanford Lloyd who was holding up the ac-counting.
In the lull3 between these worries Ellie and I discovered our Folly4. Wehadn’t really explored all our property yet (only the part just round thehouse). We used to follow up tracks through the woods and see wherethey led. One day we followed a sort of path that had been so overgrownthat you couldn’t really see where it was at first. But we tracked it out andin the end it came out at what Ellie said was a Folly. A sort of little whiteridiculous temple- looking place. It was in fairly good condition so wecleared it up and had it painted and we put a table, and a few chairs in it,and a divan5 and a corner cupboard in which we put china and glasses,and some bottles. It was fun really. Ellie said we’d have the path clearedand made easier to climb and I said no, it would be more fun if no oneknew where it was except us. Ellie thought that was a romantic idea.
“We certainly won’t let Cora know,” I said and Ellie agreed.
It was when we were coming down from there, not the first time butlater, after Cora had gone away and we were hoping to be peaceful again,that Ellie, who was skipping along ahead of me, suddenly tripped over theroot of a tree and fell and sprained6 her ankle.
Dr. Shaw came and said she’d taken a nasty sprain7 but that she’d be ableto get about again all right in perhaps a week. Ellie sent for Greta then. Icouldn’t object. There was no one really to look after her properly, no wo-man I mean. The servants we had were pretty useless and anyway Elliewanted Greta. So Greta came.
She came and she was a great blessing8 of course to Ellie. And to me asfar as that went. She arranged things and kept the household workingproperly. Our servants gave notice about now. They said it was too lonely—but really I think Cora had upset them. Greta put in advertisements andgot another couple almost at once. She looked after Ellie’s ankle, amusedher, fetched things for her that she knew she liked, the kind of books andfruit and things like that—things I knew nothing about. And they seemedfrightfully happy together. Ellie was certainly delighted to see Greta. Andsomehow or other Greta just didn’t go away again…She stopped on. Elliesaid to me:
“You don’t mind, do you, if Greta stays on for a bit?”
I said, “Oh no. No, of course not.”
“It’s such a comfort having her,” said Ellie. “You see, there are so manysort of female things we can do together. One’s awfully10 lonely without an-other woman about.”
Every day I noticed Greta was taking a bit more upon herself, giving or-ders, queening it over things. I pretended I liked having Greta there, butone day when Ellie was lying with her foot up inside the drawing roomand Greta and I were out on the terrace, we suddenly got into a row to-gether. I can’t remember the exact words that started it. Something thatGreta said, it annoyed me and I answered sharply back. And then we wenton, hammer and tongs11. Our voices rose. She let me have it, saying all thevicious, unkind things she could think of, and I pretty well gave her asgood as I was getting. Told her she was a bossy12, interfering13 female, thatshe’d far too much influence over Ellie, that I wasn’t going to stand havingEllie bossed about the whole time. We shouted at each other and then sud-denly Ellie came hobbling out on the terrace looking from one to the otherof us, and I said:
“Darling, I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry.”
I went back into the house and settled Ellie on the sofa again. She said:
“I didn’t realize. I didn’t realize a bit that you—that you really hatedhaving Greta here.”
I soothed14 her and calmed her and said she mustn’t take any notice, that Ijust lost my temper, that I was rather quarrelsome sometimes. I said allthat was the matter was that I thought Greta was just a bit bossy. Perhapsthat was natural enough because she’d been used to being so. And in theend I said I really liked Greta very much, it was just that I’d lost my temperbecause I’d been upset and worried. So it ended that I practically beggedGreta to stay on.
It was quite a scene we’d had. I think quite a good many other people inthe house had heard it as well. Our new manservant and his wife certainlydid. When I get angry I do shout. I dare say I really overdid15 it a bit. I’m likethat.
Greta seemed to make a point of worrying a great deal about Ellie’shealth, saying she oughtn’t to do this, or that.
“She isn’t really very strong, you know,” she said to me.
“There’s nothing wrong with Ellie,” I said, “she’s always perfectly16 well.”
“No, she isn’t, Mike. She’s delicate.”
When Dr. Shaw next came to have a look at Ellie’s ankle and to tell her,by the way, that it was quite all right again, just bind17 it up if she was goingto walk over rough ground, I said to him, I suppose in rather the foolishway that men do:
“She isn’t delicate or anything, is she, Dr. Shaw?”
“Who says she’s delicate?” Dr. Shaw was the kind of practitioner18 that isfairly rare nowadays and was, indeed, known locally as “Leave- it- to-Nature Shaw.”
“Nothing wrong with her as far as I can see,” he said. “Anyone cansprain an ankle.”
“I didn’t mean her ankle. I wondered if she had a weak heart or any-thing like that.”
He looked at me through the top of his spectacles. “Don’t start imaginingthings, young man. What put it into your head? You’re not the type thatworries usually about women’s ailments19.”
“It was only what Miss Andersen said.”
“Ah. Miss Andersen. What does she know about it? Not medically quali-fied, is she?”
“Oh no,” I said.
“Your wife’s a woman of great wealth,” he said, “according to local gos-sip anyway. Of course some people just imagine all Americans are rich.”
“She is wealthy,” I said.
“Well, you must remember this. Rich women get the worst of it in manyways. Some doctor or other is always giving them powders and pills, stim-ulants or pep pills, or tranquillizers, things that on the whole they’d bebetter without. Now the village women are much healthier becausenobody worries about their health in the same way.”
“She does take some capsules or something,” I said.
“I’ll give her a check-up if you like. Might as well find out what muckshe’s been given. I can tell you, before now I’ve said to people ‘chuck thewhole lot in the wastepaper basket.’”
He spoke20 to Greta before he left. He said:
“Mr. Rogers asked me to give Mrs. Rogers a general check-up. I can’tfind anything much wrong with her. I think more exercise in the open airmight do her good. What does she take in the way of medicines?”
“She has some tablets that she takes when she’s tired, and some that shetakes for sleeping if she wants them.”
She and Dr. Shaw went and had a look at Ellie’s prescriptions22. Ellie wassmiling a little.
“I don’t take all these things, Dr. Shaw,” she said. “Only the allergy23 cap-sules.”
Shaw took a look at the capsules, read the prescription21 and said therewas no harm in that, and passed on to a prescription for sleeping pills.
“Any trouble with sleeping?”
“Not living in the country. I don’t think I’ve taken a single sleeping pillsince I’ve been here.”
“Well, that’s a good thing.” He patted her on the shoulder. “There’s noth-ing wrong with you, my dear. Inclined to worry a bit sometimes, I shouldsay. That’s all. These capsules are mild enough. Lots of people take themnowadays and they don’t do them any harm. Go on with them but leavethe sleeping pills alone.”
“I don’t know why I worried,” I said to Ellie apologetically. “I suppose itwas Greta.”
“Oh,” said Ellie and laughed, “Greta fusses about me. She never takesany remedies herself.” She said, “We’ll have a turnout, Mike, and throwmost of these things away.”
Ellie was getting on very friendly terms with most of our neighboursnow. Claudia Hardcastle came over quite often and she and Ellie went rid-ing together occasionally. I didn’t ride, I’d dealt with cars and mechanicalthings all my life. I didn’t know the first thing about a horse in spite ofmucking out stables in Ireland for a week or two once, but I thought tomyself that some time or other when we were in London I’d go to a poshriding stable and learn how to ride properly. I didn’t want to start downhere. People would laugh at me very likely. I thought riding was perhapsgood for Ellie. She seemed to enjoy it.
Greta encouraged her to ride, although Greta herself also knew nothingabout horses.
Ellie and Claudia went together to a sale and on Claudia’s advice Elliebought herself a horse, a chestnut24 called Conquer. I urged Ellie to be care-ful when she went out riding by herself but she laughed at me.
“I’ve ridden since I was three years old,” she said.
So she usually went for a ride about two or three times a week. Gretaused to drive the car and go into Market Chadwell to do the shopping.
One day Greta said at lunchtime: “You and your gipsies! There was a ter-rible- looking old woman this morning. She stood in the middle of theroad. I might have run over her. Just stood smack25 in front of the car. I hadto pull up. Coming up the hill too.”
“Why, what did she want?”
Ellie was listening to us both but she didn’t say anything. I thought,though, that she looked rather worried.
“Damn” cheek, she threatened me,” said Greta.
“Threatened you?” I said sharply.
“Well, she told me to get out of here. She said: ‘This is gipsy land here.
Go back. Go back the lot of you. Go back to where you came from if youwish to be safe.’ And she lifted up her fist and shook it at me. She said: ‘If Icurse you,’ she said, ‘there’ll be no good luck for you ever again. Buyingour land and raising houses on our land. We don’t want houses where tentdwellers should be.’”
Greta said a lot more. Ellie said to me afterwards, frowning a little:
“It all sounded most improbable, didn’t you think so, Mike?”
“I think Greta was exaggerating a bit,” I said.
“It didn’t sound right somehow,” said Ellie. “I wonder if Greta was mak-ing some of it up.”
I considered. “Why would she want to make things up?” Then I askedsharply, “You haven’t seen our Esther lately, have you? Not when you areout riding?”
“The gipsy woman? No.”
“You don’t sound quite sure, Ellie,” I said.
“I think I’ve caught glimpses of her,” said Ellie. “You know, standingamong the trees peering out but never near enough for me to be sure.”
But Ellie came back from a ride one day, white and shaking. The old wo-man had come out from in between the trees. Ellie had reined27 up andstopped to speak to her. She said the old woman was shaking her fist andmuttering under her breath. Ellie said, “This time I was angry, I said toher:
’What do you want here? This land doesn’t belong to you. It’s our landand our house.’”
The old woman had said then:
“It’ll never be your land and it’ll never belong to you. I warned you onceand I’ve warned you twice. I shan’t warn you again. It won’t be long now—I can tell you that. It’s Death I see. There behind your left shoulder. It’sDeath standing26 by you and it’s Death will have you. That horse you’re rid-ing has got one white foot. Don’t you know that it’s bad luck to ride ahorse with one white foot? It’s Death I see and the grand house you’vebuilt falling in ruins!”
“This has got to be stopped,” I said angrily.
Ellie didn’t laugh it off this time. Both she and Greta looked upset. I wentstraight down to the village. I went first to Mrs. Lee’s cottage. I hesitatedfor a moment but there was no light there and I went on to the police sta-tion. I knew the Sergeant28 in Charge, Sergeant Keene, a square, sensibleman. He listened to me, then he said:
“I’m sorry you’ve had this trouble. She’s a very old woman and she maybe getting tiresome29. We’ve never had much real trouble with her up tonow. I’ll speak to her and tell her to lay off.”
“If you would,” I said.
He hesitated a minute and then said:
“I don’t like to suggest things—but as far as you know, Mr. Rogers, isthere anyone around here who might—perhaps for some trivial cause—have it in for you or your wife?”
“I should think it most unlikely. Why?”
“Old Mrs. Lee has been flush of money lately—I don’t know where it’scoming from—”
“What are you suggesting?”
“It could be someone is paying her—someone who wants you out ofhere. There was an incident—a good many years ago. She took moneyfrom someone in the village—to frighten a neighbour away. Doing thissame sort of stuff—threats—warnings—evil eye business—Village peopleare superstitious30. You’d be surprised at the number of villages in Englandthat have got their private witch, so to speak. She got a warning then andso far as I know she’s never tried it on since—but it could be like that.
She’s fond of money—they’ll do a lot for money—”
But I couldn’t accept that idea. I pointed31 out to Keene that we were com-plete strangers here. “We’ve not had time to make enemies,” I said.
I walked back to the house worried and perplexed32. As I turned thecorner of the terrace, I heard the faint sound of Ellie’s guitar, and a tall fig-ure, who had been standing by the window looking in, wheeled round andcame towards me. For a moment I thought it was a gipsy, then I relaxed asI recognized Santonix.
“Oh,” I said with a slight gasp33, “it’s you. Where have you sprung from?
We’ve not heard from you for ages.”
He didn’t answer me directly. He just caught my arm and drew me awayfrom the window.
“So she’s here!” he said. “I’m not surprised. I thought she’d come sooneror later. Why did you let her? She’s dangerous. You ought to know that.”
“You mean Ellie?”
“No, no, not Ellie. The other one! What’s her name? Greta?”
I stared at him.
“Do you know what Greta’s like or don’t you? She’s come, hasn’t she?
Taken possession! You won’t get rid of her now. She’s come to stay.”
“Ellie sprained her ankle,” I said. “Greta came to look after her. She’s—Isuppose she’s going soon.”
“You don’t know anything of the kind. She always meant to come. Iknew that. I took her measure when she came down while the house wasbuilding.”
“Ellie seems to want her,” I muttered.
“Oh yes, she’s been with Ellie some time, hasn’t she? She knows how tomanage Ellie.”
That was what Lippincott had said. I’d seen for myself lately how true itwas.
“Do you want her here, Mike?”
“I can’t throw her out of the house,” I said irritably34. “She’s Ellie’s oldfriend. Her best friend. What the hell can I do about it?”
“No,” said Santonix, “I suppose you can’t do anything, can you?”
He looked at me. It was a very strange glance. Santonix was a strangeman. You never knew what his words really meant.
“Do you know where you’re going, Mike?” he said. “Have you any idea?
Sometimes I don’t think you know anything at all.”
“Of course I know,” I said. “I’m doing what I want to. I’m going where Iwanted.”
“Are you? I wonder. I wonder if you really know what you want your-self. I’m afraid for you with Greta. She’s stronger than you are, you know.”
“I don’t see how you make that out. It isn’t a question of strength.”
“Isn’t it? I think it is. She’s the strong kind, the kind that always gets herway. You didn’t mean to have her here. That’s what you said. But here sheis, and I’ve been watching them. She and Ellie sitting together, at home to-gether, chattering35 and settled in. What are you, Mike? The outsider? Oraren’t you an outsider?”
“You’re crazy, the things you say. What do you mean—I’m an outsider?
I’m Ellie’s husband, aren’t I?”
“Are you Ellie’s husband or is Ellie your wife?”
“You’re daft,” I said. “What’s the difference?”
He sighed. Suddenly, his shoulders sagged36 as though vigour37 went out ofhim.
“I can’t reach you,” said Santonix. “I can’t make you hear me. I can’tmake you understand. Sometimes I think you do understand, sometimes Ithink you don’t know anything at all about yourself or anyone else.”
“Look here,” I said, “I’ll take so much from you, Santonix. You’re a won-derful architect—but—”
His face changed in the queer way it had.
“Yes,” he said, “I’m a good architect. This house is the best thing I havedone. I’m as near as possible satisfied with it. You wanted a house likethis. And Ellie wanted a house like this, too, to live in with you. She’s got itand you’ve got it. Send that other woman away, Mike, before it’s too late.”
“How can I upset Ellie?”
“That woman’s got you where she wants you,” said Santonix.
“Look here,” I said, “I don’t like Greta. She gets on my nerves. The otherday I even had a frightful9 row with her. But none of it’s as simple as youthink.”
“No, it won’t be simple with her.”
“Whoever called this place Gipsy’s Acre and said it had a curse on it mayhave had something,” I said angrily. “We’ve got gipsies who jump out frombehind trees and shake fists at us and warn us that if we don’t get out ofhere, some awful fate will happen to us. This place that ought to be goodand beautiful.”
They were queer words to say, those last ones. I said them as though itwas somebody else saying them.
“Yes, it should be like that,” said Santonix. “It should be. But it can’t be,can it, if there is something evil possessing it?”
“You don’t believe, surely, in—”
“There are many queer things I believe…I know something about evil.
Don’t you realize, haven’t you often felt, that I am partly evil myself? Al-ways have been. That’s why I know when it’s near me, although I don’t al-ways know exactly where it is…I want the house I built purged38 of evil. Youunderstand that?” His tone was menacing. “You understand that? It mat-ters to me.”
Then his whole manner changed.
“Come on,” he said, “don’t let’s talk a lot of nonsense. Let’s come in andsee Ellie.”
So we went in through the window and Ellie greeted Santonix withenormous pleasure.
Santonix showed all his normal manner that evening. There were nomore histrionics, he was his own self, charming, lighthearted. He talkedmostly to Greta, giving her as it were the special benefit of his charm. Andhe had a lot of charm. Anyone would have sworn that he was impressedby her, that he liked her, that he was anxious to please her. It made mefeel that Santonix was really a dangerous man, there was a great dealmore to him than I had ever glimpsed.
Greta always responded to admiration39. She showed herself at her best.
She could on occasion dim her beauty or else reveal it and tonight shelooked as beautiful as I’d ever seen her. Smiling at Santonix, listening tohim as though spellbound. I wondered what lay behind his manner. Younever knew with Santonix. Ellie said she hoped he was staying for severaldays but he shook his head. He had to leave on the following day, he said.
“Are you building something now, are you busy?”
He said no, he’d just come out of hospital.
“They’ve patched me up once more,” he said, “but it’s probably for thelast time.”
“Patched you up? What do they do to you?”
“Drain the bad blood out of my body and put some good, fresh red bloodin,” he said.
“Oh.” Ellie gave a little shudder40.
“Don’t worry,” said Santonix, “it will never happen to you.”
“But why has it got to happen to you?” said Ellie. “It’s cruel.”
“Not cruel, no,” said Santonix. “I heard what you were singing just now.
“Man was made for Joy and Woe41
And when this we rightly know
Thro’ the World we safely go.
“I go safely because I know why I’m here. And for you, Ellie:
“Every Morn and every Night
Some are born to Sweet Delight.
“That’s you.”
“I wish I could feel safe,” said Ellie.
“Don’t you feel safe?”
“I don’t like to be threatened,” said Ellie. “I don’t like anyone to put acurse on me.”
“You’re talking about your gipsy?”
“Yes.”
“Forget it,” said Santonix. “Forget it for tonight. Let’s be happy. Ellie—your health—Long life to you—and a quick and merciful end to me—andgood luck to Mike here—” He stopped, his glass raised towards Greta.
“Yes?” said Greta. “And to me?”
“And to you, what’s coming to you! Success, perhaps?” he added, halfquizzically with an ironic42 question in his tone.
He went away next morning early.
“What a strange man he is,” Ellie said. “I’ve never understood him.”
“I never understand half of what he says,” I answered.
“He knows things,” said Ellie thoughtfully.
“You mean he knows the future?”
“No,” said Ellie, “I didn’t mean that. He knows people. I said it to youonce before. He knows people better than they know themselves. Some-times he hates them because of that, and sometimes he’s sorry for them.
He’s not sorry for me, though,” she added meditatively43.
“Why should he be?” I demanded.
“Oh, because—” said Ellie.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
crooked
|
|
| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
sinister
|
|
| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
lull
|
|
| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
divan
|
|
| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
sprained
|
|
| v.&n. 扭伤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
sprain
|
|
| n.扭伤,扭筋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
blessing
|
|
| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
frightful
|
|
| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
awfully
|
|
| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
tongs
|
|
| n.钳；夹子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
bossy
|
|
| adj.爱发号施令的，作威作福的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
interfering
|
|
| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
soothed
|
|
| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
overdid
|
|
| v.做得过分( overdo的过去式 )；太夸张；把…煮得太久；（工作等）过度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
bind
|
|
| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
practitioner
|
|
| n.实践者，从事者；(医生或律师等)开业者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
ailments
|
|
| 疾病（尤指慢性病），不适( ailment的名词复数 ) | |
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
prescription
|
|
| n.处方，开药；指示，规定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
prescriptions
|
|
| 药( prescription的名词复数 )； 处方； 开处方； 计划 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
allergy
|
|
| n.(因食物、药物等而引起的)过敏症 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
chestnut
|
|
| n.栗树，栗子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
smack
|
|
| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
reined
|
|
| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
sergeant
|
|
| n.警官，中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
tiresome
|
|
| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
superstitious
|
|
| adj.迷信的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
gasp
|
|
| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
irritably
|
|
| ad.易生气地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
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： |
|
|
|
|
36
sagged
|
|
| 下垂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
vigour
|
|
| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
purged
|
|
| 清除（政敌等）( purge的过去式和过去分词 )； 涤除（罪恶等）； 净化（心灵、风气等）； 消除（错事等）的不良影响 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
woe
|
|
| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
ironic
|
|
| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
meditatively
|
|
| adv.冥想地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |