I
The Espresso machine behind my shoulder hissed2 like an angry snake.
The noise it made had a sinister3, not to say devilish, suggestion about it.
Perhaps, I reflected, most of our contemporary noises carry that implica-tion. The intimidating4 angry scream of jet planes as they flash across thesky; the slow menacing rumble5 of a tube train approaching through itstunnel; the heavy road transport that shakes the very foundations of yourhouse… Even the minor6 domestic noises of today, beneficial in actionthough they may be, yet carry a kind of alert. The dishwashers, the refri-gerators, the pressure cookers, the whining7 vacuum cleaners—“Be care-ful,” they all seem to say. “I am a genie8 harnessed to your service, but ifyour control of me fails….”
A dangerous world—that was it, a dangerous world.
I stirred the foaming9 cup placed in front of me. It smelt10 pleasant.
“What else will you have? Nice banana and bacon sandwich?”
It seemed an odd juxtaposition11 to me. Bananas I connected with mychildhood — or occasionally flambé with sugar and rum. Bacon, in mymind, was firmly associated with eggs. However, when in Chelsea, eat asChelsea does. I agreed to a nice banana and bacon sandwich.
Although I lived in Chelsea—that is to say, I had had a furnished flatthere for the last three months—I was in every other way a stranger inthese parts. I was writing a book on certain aspects of Mogul architecture,but for that purpose I could have lived in Hampstead or Bloomsbury orStreatham or Chelsea and it would have been all the same to me. I was ob-livious of my surroundings except for the tools of my trade, and the neigh-bourhood in which I lived was completely indifferent to me, I existed in aworld of my own.
On this particular evening, however, I had suffered from one of thosesudden revulsions that all writers know.
Mogul architecture, Mogul Emperors, the Mogul way of life—and all thefascinating problems it raised, became suddenly as dust and ashes. Whatdid they matter? Why did I want to write about them?
I flicked12 back various pages, rereading what I had written. It all seemedto me uniformly bad—poorly written and singularly devoid13 of interest.
Whoever had said “History is bunk” (Henry Ford14?) had been absolutelyright.
I pushed back my manuscript with loathing15, got up and looked at mywatch. The time was close on eleven p.m. I tried to remember if I had haddinner… From my inner sensations I thought not. Lunch, yes, at the Athen-aeum. That was a long time ago.
I went and looked into the refrigerator. There was a small remnant ofdesiccated tongue. I looked at it without favour. So it was that I wanderedout into the King’s Road, and eventually turned into an Espresso CoffeeBar with the name Luigi written in red neon light across its window, andwas now contemplating16 a bacon and banana sandwich whilst I reflectedon the sinister implications of present-day noises and their atmosphericeffects.
All of them, I thought, had something in common with my early memor-ies of pantomime. Davy Jones arriving from his locker17 in clouds of smoke!
Trap doors and windows that exuded18 the infernal powers of evil, challen-ging and defying a Good Fairy Diamond, or some such name, who in turnwaved an inadequate-looking wand and recited hopeful platitudes19 as tothe ultimate triumph of good in a flat voice, thus prefacing the inevitable“song of the moment” which never had anything to do with the story ofthat particular pantomime.
It came to me suddenly that evil was, perhaps, necessarily always moreimpressive than good. It had to make a show! It had to startle and chal-lenge! It was instability attacking stability. And in the end, I thought, sta-bility will always win. Stability can survive the triteness20 of Good Fairy Dia-mond; the flat voice, the rhymed couplet, even the irrelevant21 vocal22 state-ment of “There’s a Winding23 Road runs down the Hill, To the Olde WorldTown I love.” All very poor weapons it would seem, and yet thoseweapons would inevitably24 prevail. The pantomime would end in the wayit always ended. The staircase, and the descending25 cast in order of senior-ity, with Good Fairy Diamond, practising the Christian26 virtue27 of humilityand not seeking to be first (or, in this case, last) but arriving about halfwaythrough the procession, side by side with her late opponent, now seen tobe no longer the snarling28 Demon29 King breathing fire and brimstone, butjust a man dressed up in red tights.
The Espresso hissed again in my ear. I signalled for another cup of cof-fee and looked around me. A sister of mine was always accusing me of notbeing observant, not noticing what was going on. “You live in a world ofyour own,” she would say accusingly. Now, with a feeling of conscious vir-tue, I took note of what was going on. It was almost impossible not to readabout the coffee bars of Chelsea and their patrons every day in the news-papers; this was my chance to make my own appraisal30 of contemporarylife.
It was rather dark in the Espresso, so you could not see very clearly. Theclientele were almost all young people. They were, I supposed vaguely,what was called the offbeat31 generation. The girls looked, as girls alwaysdid look to me nowadays, dirty. They also seemed to be much too warmlydressed. I had noticed that when I had gone out a few weeks ago to dinewith some friends. The girl who had sat next to me had been abouttwenty. The restaurant was hot, but she had worn a yellow wool pullover,a black skirt and black woollen stockings, and the perspiration32 poureddown her face all through the meal. She smelt of perspiration-soaked wooland also, strongly, of unwashed hair. She was said, according to myfriends, to be very attractive. Not to me! My only reaction was a yearningto throw her into a hot bath, give her a cake of soap and urge her to get onwith it! Which just showed, I suppose, how out of touch with the times Iwas. Perhaps it came of having lived abroad so much. I recalled withpleasure Indian women with their beautifully-coiled black hair, and theirsaris of pure bright colours hanging in graceful33 folds, and the rhythmicsway of their bodies as they walked….
I was recalled from these pleasant thoughts by a sudden accentuation ofnoise. Two young women at the table next to me had started a quarrel.
The young men who were with them tried to adjust things, but withoutavail.
Suddenly they were screaming at each other. One girl slapped theother’s face, the second dragged the first from her chair. They fought eachother like fishwives, screaming abuse hysterically34. One was a tousled red-head, the other a lank35-haired blonde.
What the quarrel was about, apart from terms of abuse, I did not gather.
Cries and catcalls arose from other tables.
“Attagirl! Sock her, Lou!”
The proprietor36 behind the bar, a slim Italian-looking fellow with side-burns, whom I had taken to be Luigi, came to intervene in a voice that waspure cockney London.
“Nah then—break it up—break it up—You’ll ’ave the whole street in in aminute. You’ll ’ave the coppers37 here. Stop it, I say.”
But the lank blonde had the redhead by the hair and was tugging38 furi-ously as she screamed:
“You’re nothing but a man-stealing bitch!”
“Bitch yourself.”
Luigi and the two embarrassed escorts forced the girls apart. In theblonde’s fingers were large tufts of red hair. She held them aloft gleefully,then dropped them on the floor.
The door from the street was pushed open and Authority, dressed inblue, stood on the threshold and uttered the regulation words majestic-ally.
“What’s going on here?”
Immediately a common front was presented to the enemy.
“Just a bit of fun,” said one of the young men.
“That’s all,” said Luigi. “Just a bit of fun among friends.”
With his foot he kicked the tufts of hair adroitly39 under the nearest table.
The contestants40 smiled at each other in false amnesty.
The policeman looked at everybody suspiciously.
“We’re just going now,” said the blonde sweetly. “Come on, Doug.”
By a coincidence several other people were just going. Authoritywatched them go grimly. His eye said that he was overlooking it this time,but he’d got his eye on them. He withdrew slowly.
The redhead’s escort paid the check.
“You all right?” said Luigi to the girl who was adjusting a headscarf.
“Lou served you pretty bad, tearing out your hair by the roots like that.”
“It didn’t hurt,” said the girl nonchalantly. She smiled at him. “Sorry forthe row, Luigi.”
The party went out. The bar was now practically empty. I felt in mypocket for change.
“She’s a sport all right,” said Luigi approvingly watching the door close.
He seized a floor brush and swept the tufts of red hair behind the counter.
“It must have been agony,” I said.
“I’d have hollered if it had been me,” admitted Luigi. “But she’s a realsport, Tommy is.”
“You know her well?”
“Oh, she’s in here most evenings. Tuckerton, that’s her name, Thomas-ina Tuckerton, if you want the whole set out. But Tommy Tucker’s whatshe’s called round here. Stinking41 rich, too. Her old man left her a fortune,and what does she go and do? Comes to Chelsea, lives in a slummy roomhalfway to Wandsworth Bridge, and mooches around with a gang all do-ing the same thing. Beats me, half of that crowd’s got money. Could haveany mortal thing they want; stay at the Ritz if they liked. But they seem toget a kick out of living the way they do. Yes—it beats me.”
“It wouldn’t be your choice?”
“Ar, I’ve got sense!” said Luigi. “As it is, I just cash in.”
I rose to go and asked what the quarrel was about.
“Oh, Tommy’s got hold of the other girl’s boyfriend. He’s not worth fight-ing about, believe me!”
“The other girl seemed to think he was,” I observed.
“Oh, Lou’s very romantic,” said Luigi tolerantly.
It was not my idea of romance, but I did not say so.

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收听单词发音

1
narrative
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n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
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2
hissed
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发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 ); 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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3
sinister
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adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
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intimidating
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vt.恐吓,威胁( intimidate的现在分词) | |
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5
rumble
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n.隆隆声;吵嚷;v.隆隆响;低沉地说 | |
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minor
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adj.较小(少)的,较次要的;n.辅修学科;vi.辅修 | |
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7
whining
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n. 抱怨,牢骚 v. 哭诉,发牢骚 | |
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8
genie
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n.妖怪,神怪 | |
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9
foaming
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adj.布满泡沫的;发泡 | |
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10
smelt
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v.熔解,熔炼;n.银白鱼,胡瓜鱼 | |
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11
juxtaposition
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n.毗邻,并置,并列 | |
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12
flicked
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(尤指用手指或手快速地)轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 ); (用…)轻挥; (快速地)按开关; 向…笑了一下(或瞥了一眼等) | |
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13
devoid
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adj.全无的,缺乏的 | |
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14
Ford
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n.浅滩,水浅可涉处;v.涉水,涉过 | |
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15
loathing
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n.厌恶,憎恨v.憎恨,厌恶( loathe的现在分词);极不喜欢 | |
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16
contemplating
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深思,细想,仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 ); 注视,凝视; 考虑接受(发生某事的可能性); 深思熟虑,沉思,苦思冥想 | |
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17
locker
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n.更衣箱,储物柜,冷藏室,上锁的人 | |
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18
exuded
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v.缓慢流出,渗出,分泌出( exude的过去式和过去分词 );流露出对(某物)的神态或感情 | |
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19
platitudes
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n.平常的话,老生常谈,陈词滥调( platitude的名词复数 );滥套子 | |
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20
triteness
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n.平凡,陈腐 | |
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21
irrelevant
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adj.不恰当的,无关系的,不相干的 | |
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22
vocal
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adj.直言不讳的;嗓音的;n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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23
winding
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n.绕,缠,绕组,线圈 | |
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24
inevitably
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adv.不可避免地;必然发生地 | |
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25
descending
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n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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26
Christian
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adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
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27
virtue
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n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
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28
snarling
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v.(指狗)吠,嗥叫, (人)咆哮( snarl的现在分词 );咆哮着说,厉声地说 | |
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29
demon
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n.魔鬼,恶魔 | |
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30
appraisal
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n.对…作出的评价;评价,鉴定,评估 | |
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31
offbeat
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adj.不平常的,离奇的 | |
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32
perspiration
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n.汗水;出汗 | |
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33
graceful
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adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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34
hysterically
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ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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lank
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adj.瘦削的;稀疏的 | |
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36
proprietor
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n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
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37
coppers
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铜( copper的名词复数 ); 铜币 | |
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38
tugging
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n.牵引感v.用力拉,使劲拉,猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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adroitly
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adv.熟练地,敏捷地 | |
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contestants
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n.竞争者,参赛者( contestant的名词复数 ) | |
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stinking
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adj.臭的,烂醉的,讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 );发臭味;名声臭;糟透 | |
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