They were walking through the heather of the mountain meadow and Robert Jordan felt the brushing of the heather against his legs, felt the weight of his pistol in its holster against his thigh1, felt the sun on his head, felt the breeze from the snow of the mountain peaks cool on his back and, in his hand, he felt the girl's hand firm and strong, the fingers locked in his. From it, from the palm of her hand against the palm of his, from their fingers locked together, and from her wrist across his wrist something came from her hand, her fingers and her wrist to his that was as fresh as the first light air that moving toward you over the sea barely wrinkles the glassy surface of a calm, as light as a feather moved across one's lip, or a leaf falling when there is no breeze; so light that it could be felt with the touch of their fingers alone, but that was so strengthened, so intensified2, and made so urgent, so aching and so strong by the hard pressure of their fingers and the close pressed palm and wrist, that it was as though a current moved up his arm and filled his whole body with an aching hollowness of wanting. With the sun shining on her hair, tawny3 as wheat, and on her gold-brown smooth-lovely face and on the curve of her throat he bent4 her head back and held her to him and kissed her. He felt her trembling as he kissed her and he held the length of her body tight to him and felt her breasts against his chest through the two khaki shirts, he felt them small and firm and he reached and undid5 the buttons on her shirt and bent and kissed her and she stood shivering, holding her head back, his arm behind her. Then she dropped her chin to his head and then he felt her hands holding his head and rocking it against her. He straightened and with his two arms around her held her so tightly that she was lifted off the ground, tight against him, and he felt her trembling and then her lips were on his throat, and then he put her down and said, "Maria, oh, my Maria."
Then he said, "Where should we go?"
She did not say anything but slipped her hand inside of his shirt and he felt her undoing6 the shirt buttons and she said, "You, too. I want to kiss, too."
"No, little rabbit."
"Yes. Yes. Everything as you."
"Nay. That is an impossibility."
"Well, then. Oh, then. Oh, then. Oh."
Then there was the smell of heather crushed and the roughness of the bent stalks under her head and the sun bright on her closed eyes and all his life he would remember the curve of her throat with her head pushed back into the heather roots and her lips that moved smally and by themselves and the fluttering of the lashes7 on the eyes tight closed against the sun and against everything, and for her everything was red, orange, gold-red from the sun on the closed eyes, and it all was that color, all of it, the filling, the possessing, the having, all of that color, all in a blindness of that color. For him it was a dark passage which led to nowhere, then to nowhere, then again to nowhere, once again to nowhere, always and forever to nowhere, heavy on the elbows in the earth to nowhere, dark, never any end to nowhere, hung on all time always to unknowing nowhere, this time and again for always to nowhere, now not to be borne once again always and to nowhere, now beyond all bearing up, up, up and into nowhere, suddenly, scaldingly, holdingly all nowhere gone and time absolutely still and they were both there, time having stopped and he felt the earth move out and away from under them.
Then he was lying on his side, his head deep in the heather, smelling it and the smell of the roots and the earth and the sun came through it and it was scratchy on his bare shoulders and along his flanks and the girl was lying opposite him with her eyes still shut and then she opened them and smiled at him and he said very tiredly and from a great but friendly distance, "Hello, rabbit." And she smiled and from no distance said, "Hello, my _Ingl廥_."
"I'm not an _Ingl廥_," he said very lazily.
"Oh yes, you are," she said. "You're my _Ingl廥_," and reached and took hold of both his ears and kissed him on the forehead.
"There," she said. "How is that? Do I kiss thee better?"
Then they were walking along the stream together and he said, "Maria, I love thee and thou art so lovely and so wonderful and so beautiful and it does such things to me to be with thee that I feel as though I wanted to die when I am loving thee."
"Oh," she said. "I die each time. Do you not die?"
"No. Almost. But did thee feel the earth move?"
"Yes. As I died. Put thy arm around me, please."
"No. I have thy hand. Thy hand is enough."
He looked at her and across the meadow where a hawk8 was hunting and the big afternoon clouds were coming now over the mountains.
"And it is not thus for thee with others?" Maria asked him, they now walking hand in hand.
"No. Truly."
"Thou hast loved many others."
"Some. But not as thee."
"And it was not thus? Truly?"
"It was a pleasure but it was not thus."
"And then the earth moved. The earth never moved before?"
"Nay. Truly never."
"Ay," she said. "And this we have for one day."
He said nothing.
"But we have had it now at least," Maria said. "And do you like me too? Do I please thee? I will look better later."
"Thou art very beautiful now."
"Nay," she said. "But stroke thy hand across my head."
He did that feeling her cropped hair soft and flattening9 and then rising between his fingers and he put both hands on her head and turned her face up to his and kissed her.
"I like to kiss very much," she said. "But I do not do it well."
"Thou hast no need to kiss."
"Yes, I have. If I am to be thy woman I should please thee in all ways."
"You please me enough. I would not be more pleased. There is no thing I could do if I were more pleased."
"But you will see," she said very happily. "My hair amuses thee now because it is odd. But every day it is growing. It will be long and then I will not look ugly and perhaps you will love me very much."
"Thou hast a lovely body," he said. "The loveliest in the world."
"It is only young and thin."
"No. In a fine body there is magic. I do not know what makes it in one and not in another. But thou hast it."
"For thee," she said.
"Nay."
"Yes. For thee and for thee always and only for thee. But it is littie to bring thee. I would learn to take good care of thee. But tell me truly. Did the earth never move for thee before?"
"Never," he said truly.
"Now am I happy," she said. "Now am I truly happy.
"You are thinking of something else now?" she asked him.
"Yes. My work."
"I wish we had horses to ride," Maria said. "In my happiness I would like to be on a good horse and ride fast with thee riding fast beside me and we would ride faster and faster, galloping10, and never pass my happiness."
"We could take thy happiness in a plane," he said absently.
"And go over and over in the sky like the little pursuit planes shining in the sun," she said. "Rolling it in loops and in dives. _Qu?bueno!_" she laughed. "My happiness would not even notice it."
"Thy happiness has a good stomach," he said half hearing what she said.
Because now he was not there. He was walking beside her but his mind was thinking of the problem of the bridge now and it was all clear and hard and sharp as when a camera lens is brought into focus. He saw the two posts and Anselmo and the gypsy watching. He saw the road empty and he saw movement on it. He saw where he would place the two automatic rifles to get the most level field of fire, and who will serve them, he thought, me at the end, but who at the start? He placed the charges, wedged and lashed11 them, sunk his caps and crimped them, ran his wires, hooked them up and got back to where he had placed the old box of the exploder and then he started to think of all the things that could have happened and that might go wrong. Stop it, he told himself. You have made love to this girl and now your head is clear, properly clear, and you start to worry. It is one thing to think you must do and it is another thing to worry. Don't worry. You mustn't worry. You know the things that you may have to do and you know what may happen. Certainly it may happen.
You went into it knowing what you were fighting for. You were fighting against exactly what you were doing and being forced into doing to have any chance of winning. So now he was compelled to use these people whom he liked as you should use troops toward whom you have no feeling at all if you were to be successful. Pablo was evidently the smartest. He knew how bad it was instantly. The woman was all for it, and still was; but the realization12 of what it really consisted in had overcome her steadily13 and it had done plenty to her already. Sordo recognized it instantly and would do it but he did not like it any more than he, Robert Jordan, liked it.
So you say that it is not that which will happen to yourself but that which may happen to the woman and the girl and to the others that you think of. All right. What would have happened to them if you had not come? What happened to them and what passed with them before you were ever here? You must not think in that way. You have no responsibility for them except in action. The orders do not come from you. They come from Golz. And who is Golz? A good general. The best you've ever served under. But should a man carry out impossible orders knowing what they lead to? Even though they come from Golz, who is the party as well as the army? Yes. He should carry them out because it is only in the performing of them that they can prove to be impossible. How do you know they are impossible until you have tried them? If every one said orders were impossible to carry out when they were received where Would you be? Where would we all be if you just said, "Impossible," when orders came?
He had seen enough of commanders to whom all orders were impossible. That swine Gomez in Estremadura. He had seen enough attacks when the flanks did not advance because it was impossible. No, he would carry out the orders and it was bad luck that you liked the people you must do it with.
In all the work that they, the _partizans_, did, they brought added danger and bad luck to the people that sheltered them and worked with them. For what? So that, eventually, there should be no more danger and so that the country should be a good place to live in. That was true no matter how trite14 it sounded.
If the Republic lost it would be impossible for those who believed in it to live in Spain. But would it? Yes, he knew that it would be, from the things that happened in the parts the fascists15 had already taken.
Pablo was a swine but the others were fine people and was it not a betrayal of them all to get them to do this? Perhaps it was. But if they did not do it two squadrons of cavalry16 would come and hunt them out of these hills in a week.
No. There was nothing to be gained by leaving them alone. Except that all people should be left alone and you should interfere17 with no one. So he believed that, did he? Yes, he believed that. And what about a planned society and the rest of it? That was for the others to do. He had something else to do after this war. He fought now in this war because it had started in a country that he loved and he believed in the Republic and that if it were destroyed life would be unbearable18 for all those people who believed in it. He was under Communist discipline for the duration of the war. Here in Spain the Communists offered the best discipline and the soundest and sanest19 for the prosecution20 of the war. He accepted their discipline for the duration of the war because, in the conduct of the war, they were the only party whose program and whose discipline he could respect.
What were his politics then? He had none now, he told himself. But do not tell any one else that, he thought. Don't ever admit that. And what are you going to do afterwards? I am going back and earn my living teaching Spanish as before, and I am going to write a true book. I'll bet, he said. I'll bet that will be easy.
He would have to talk with Pablo about politics. It would certainly be interesting to see what his political development had been. The classical move from left to right, probably; like old Lerroux. Pablo was quite a lot like Lerroux. Prieto was as bad. Pablo and Prieto had about an equal faith in the ultimate victory. They all had the politics of horse thieves. He believed in the Republic as a form of government but the Republic would have to get rid of all of that bunch of horse thieves that brought it to the pass it was in when the rebellion started. Was there ever a people whose leaders were as truly their enemies as this one?
Enemies of the people. That was a phrase he might omit. That was a catch phrase he would skip. That was one thing that sleeping with Maria had done. He had gotten to be as bigoted21 and hidebound about his politics as a hard-shelled Baptist and phrases like enemies of the people came into his mind without his much criticizing them in any way. Any sort of _clich廥_ both revolutionary and patriotic22. His mind employed them without criticism. Of course they were true but it was too easy to be nimble about using them. But since last night and this afternoon his mind was much clearer and cleaner on that business. Bigotry23 is an odd thing. To be bigoted you have to be absolutely sure that you are right and nothing makes that surety and righteousness like continence. Continence is the foe24 of heresy25.
How would that premise26 stand up if he examined it? That was probably why the Communists were always cracking down on Bohemianism. When you were drunk or when you committed either fornication or adultery you recognized your own personal fallibility of that so mutable substitute for the apostles' creed27, the party line. Down with Bohemianism, the sin of Mayakovsky.
But Mayakovsky was a saint again. That was because he was safely dead. You'll be safely dead yourself, he told himself. Now stop thinking that sort of thing. Think about Maria.
Maria was very hard on his bigotry. So far she had not affected28 his resolution but he would much prefer not to die. He would abandon a hero's or a martyr's end gladly. He did not want to make a Thermopylae, nor be Horatius at any bridge, nor be the Dutch boy With his finger in that dyke29. No. He would like to spend some time With Maria. That was the simplest expression of it. He would like to spend a long, long time with her.
He did not believe there was ever going to be any such thing as a long time any more but if there ever was such a thing he would like to spend it with her. We could go into the hotel and register as Doctor and Mrs. Livingstone I presume, he thought.
Why not marry her? Sure, he thought. I will marry her. Then we will be Mt and Mrs. Robert Jordan of Sun Valley, Idaho. Or Corpus Christi, Texas, or Butte, Montana.
Spanish girls make wonderful wives. I've never had one so I know. And when I get my job back at the university she can be an instructor's wife and when undergraduates who take Spanish IV come in to smoke pipes in the evening and have those so valuable informal discussions about Quevedo, Lope de Vega, Gald鏀 and the other always admirable dead, Maria can tell them about how some of the blue-shirted crusaders for the true faith sat on her head while others twisted her arms and pulled her skirts up and stuffed them in her mouth.
I wonder how they will like Maria in Missoula, Montana? That is if I can get a job back in Missoula. I suppose that I am ticketed as a Red there now for good and will be on the general blacklist. Though you never know. You never can tell. They've no proof of what you do, and as a matter of fact they would never believe it if you told them, and my passport was valid30 for Spain before they issued the restrictions31.
The time for getting back will not be until the fall of thirtyseven. I left in the summer of thirty-six and though the leave is for a year you do not need to be back until the fall term opens in the following year. There is a lot of time between now and the fall term. There is a lot of time between now and day after tomorrow if you want to put it that way. No. I think there is no need to worry about the university. Just you turn up there in the fall and it will be all right. Just try and turn up there.
But it has been a strange life for a long time now. Damned if it hasn't. Spain was your work and your job, so being in Spain was natural and sound. You had worked summers on engineering projects and in the forest service building roads and in the park and learned to handle powder, so the demolition32 was a sound and normal job too. Always a little hasty, but sound.
Once you accept the idea of demolition as a problem it is only a problem. But there was plenty that was not so good that went with it although God knows you took it easily enough. There was the constant attempt to approximate the conditions of successful assassination33 that accompanied the demolition. Did big words make it more defensible? Did they make killing34 any more palatable35? You took to it a little too readily if you ask me, he told himself. And what you will be like or just exactly what you will be suited for when you leave the service of the Republic is, to me, he thought, extremely doubtful. But my guess is you will get rid of all that by writing about it, he said. Once you write it down it is all gone. It will be a good book if you can write it. Much better than the other.
But in the meantime all the life you have or ever will have is today, tonight, tomorrow, today, tonight, tomorrow, over and over again (I hope), he thought and so you had better take what time there is and be very thankful for it. If the bridge goes bad. It does not look too good just now.
But Maria has been good. Has she not? Oh, has she not, he thought. Maybe that is what I am to get now from life. Maybe that is my life and instead of it being threescore years and ten it is fortyeight hours or just threescore hours and ten or twelve rather. Twenty-four hours in a day would be threescore and twelve for the three full days.
I suppose it is possible to live as full a life in seventy hours as in seventy years; granted that your life has been full up to the time that the seventy hours start and that you have reached a certain age.
What nonsense, he thought. What rot you get to thinking by yourself. That is _really_ nonsense. And maybe it isn't nonsense too. Well, we will see. The last time I slept with a girl was in Madrid. No it wasn't. It was in the Escorial and, except that I woke in the night and thought it was some one else and was excited until I realized who it really was, it was just dragging ashes; except that it was pleasant enough. And the time before that was in Madrid and except for some lying and pretending I did to myself as to identity while things were going on, it was the same or something less. So I am no romantic glorifier36 of the Spanish Woman nor did I ever think of a casual piece as anything much other than a casual piece in any country. But when I am with Maria I love her so that I feel, literally37, as though I would die and I never believed in that nor thought that it could happen.
So if your life trades its seventy years for seventy hours I have that value now and I am lucky enough to know it. And if there is not any such thing as a long time, nor the rest of your lives, nor from now on, but there is only now, why then now is the thing to praise and I am very happy with it. Now, _ahora_, _maintenant_, _heute_. _Now_, it has a funny sound to be a whole world and your life. _Esta noche_, tonight, _ce soir_, _heute abend_. Life and wife, _Vie_ and _Mari_. No it didn't work out. The French turned it into husband. There was now and _frau_; but that did not prove anything either. Take dead, _mort_, _muerto_, and _todt_. _Todt_ was the deadest of them all. War, _guerre_, _guerra_, and _krieg_. _Krieg_ was the most like war, or was it? Or was it only that he knew German the least well? Sweetheart, _ch廨ie_, _prenda_, and _schatz_. He would trade them all for Maria. There was a name.
Well, they would all be doing it together and it would not be long now. It certainly looked worse all the time. It was just something that you could not bring off in the morning. In an impossible situation you hang on until night to get away. You try to last out until night to get back in. You are all right, maybe, if you can stick it out until dark and then get in. So what if you start this sticking it out at daylight? How about that? And that poor bloody38 Sordo abandoning his pidgin Spanish to explain it to him so carefully. As though he had not thought about that whenever he had done any particularly bad thinking ever since Golz had first mentioned it. As though he hadn't been living with that like a lump of undigested dough39 in the pit of his stomach ever since the night before the night before last.
What a business. You go along your whole life and they seem as though they mean something and they always end up not meaning anything. There was never any of what this is. You think that is one thing that you will never have. And then, on a lousy show like this, co-ordinating two chicken-crut guerilla bands to help you blow a bridge under impossible conditions, to abort40 a counteroffensive that will probably already be started, you run into a girl like this Maria. Sure. That is what you would do. You ran into her rather late, that was all.
So a woman like that Pilar practically pushed this girl into your sleeping bag and what happens? Yes, what happens? What happens? You tell me what happens, please. Yes. That is just what happens. That is exactly what happens.
Don't lie to yourself about Pilar pushing her into your sleeping robe and try to make it nothing or to make it lousy. You were gone when you first saw her. When she first opened her mouth and spoke41 to you it was there already and you know it. Since you have it and you never thought you would have it, there is no sense throwing dirt at it, when you know what it is and you know it came the first time you looked at her as she came out bent over carrying that iron cooking platter.
It hit you then and you know it and so why lie about it? You went all strange inside every time you looked at her and every time she looked at you. So why don't you admit it? All right, I'll admit it. And as for Pilar pushing her onto you, all Pilar did was be an intelligent woman. She had taken good care of the girl and she saw what was coming the minute the girl came back into the cave with the cooking dish.
So she made things easier. She made things easier so that there was last night and this afternoon. She is a damned sight more civilized42 than you are and she knows what time is all about. Yes, he said to himself, I think we can admit that she has certain notions about the value of time. She took a beating and all because she did not want other people losing what she'd lost and then the idea of admitting it was lost was too big a thing to swallow. So she took a beating back there on the hill and I guess we did not make it any easier for her.
Well, so that is what happens and what has happened and you might as well admit it and now you will never have two whole nights with her. Not a lifetime, not to live together, not to have what people were always supposed to have, not at all. One night that is past, once one afternoon, one night to come; maybe. No, sir.
Not time, not happiness, not fun, not children, not a house, not a bathroom, not a clean pair of pajamas43, not the morning paper, not to wake up together, not to wake and know she's there and that you're not alone. No. None of that. But why, when this is all you are going to get in life of what you want; when you have found it; why not just one night in a bed with sheets?
You ask for the impossible. You ask for the ruddy impossible. So if you love this girl as much as you say you do, you had better love her very hard and make up in intensity44 what the relation will lack in duration and in continuity. Do you hear that? In the old days people devoted45 a lifetime to it. And now when you have found it if you get two nights you wonder where all the luck came from. Two nights. Two nights to love, honor and cherish. For better and for worse. In sickness and in death. No that wasn't it. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part. In two nights. Much more than likely. Much more than likely and now lay off that sort of thinking. You can stop that now. That's not good for you. Do nothing that is not good for you. Sure that's it.
This was what Golz had talked about. The longer he was around, the smarter Golz seemed. So this was what he was asking about; the compensation of irregular service. Had Golz had this and was it the urgency and the lack of time and the circumstances that made it? Was this something that happened to every one given comparable circumstances? And did he only think it was something special because it was happening to him? Had Golz slept around in a hurry when he was commanding irregular cavalry in the Red Army and had the combination of the circumstances and the rest of it made the girls seem the way Maria was?
Probably Golz knew all about this too and wanted to make the point that you must make your whole life in the two nights that are given to you; that living as we do now you must concentrate all of that which you should always have into the short time that you can have it.
It was a good system of belief. But he did not believe that Maria had only been made by the circumstances. Unless, of course, she is a reaction from her own circumstance as well as his. Her one circumstance is not so good, he thought. No, not so good.
If this was how it was then this was how it was. But there was no law that made him say he liked it. I did not know that I could ever feel what I have felt, he thought. Nor that this could happen to me. I would like to have it for my whole life. You will, the other part of him said. You will. You have it _now_ and that is all your whole life is; now. There is nothing else than now. There is neither yesterday, certainly, nor is there any tomorrow. How old must you be before you know that? There is only now, and if now is only two days, then two days is your life and everything in it will be in proportion. This is how you live a life in two days. And if you stop complaining and asking for what you never will get, you will have a good life. A good life is not measured by any biblical span.
So now do not worry, take what you have, and do your work and you will have a long life and a very merry one. Hasn't it been merry lately? What are you complaining about? That's the thing about this sort of work, he told himself, and was very pleased with the thought, it isn't so much what you learn as it is the people you meet. He was pleased then because he was joking and he came back to the girl.
"I love you, rabbit," he said to the girl. "What was it you were saying?"
"I was saying," she told him, "that you must not worry about your work because I will not bother you nor interfere. If there is anything I can do you will tell me."
"There's nothing," he said. "It is really very simple."
"I will learn from Pilar what I should do to take care of a man well and those things I will do," Maria said. "Then, as I learn, I will discover things for myself and other things you can tell me."
"There is nothing to do."
"_Qu?va_, man, there is nothing! Thy sleeping robe, this morning, should have been shaken and aired and hung somewhere in the sun. Then, before the dew comes, it should be taken into shelter."
"Go on, rabbit."
"Thy socks should be washed and dried. I would see thee had two pair."
"What else?"
"If thou would show me I would clean and oil thy pistol."
"Kiss me," Robert Jordan said.
"Nay, this is serious. Wilt46 thou show me about the pistol? Pilar has rags and oil. There is a cleaning rod inside the cave that should fit it."
"Sure. I'll show you."
"Then," Maria said. "If you will teach me to shoot it either one of us could shoot the other and himself, or herself, if one were wounded and it were necessary to avoid capture."
"Very interesting," Robert Jordan said. "Do you have many ideas like that?"
"Not many," Maria said. "But it is a good one. Pilar gave me this and showed me how to use it," she opened the breast pocket of her shirt and took out a cut-down leather holder47 such as pocket combs are carried in and, removing a wide rubber band that closed both ends, took out a Gem48 type, single-edged razor blade. "I keep this always," she explained. "Pilar says you must make the cut here just below the ear and draw it toward here." She showed him with her finger. "She says there is a big artery49 there and that drawing the blade from there you cannot miss it. Also, she says there is no pain and you must simply press firmly below the ear and draw it downward. She says it is nothing and that they cannot stop it if it is done."
"That's right," said Robert Jordan. "That's the carotid artery."
So she goes around with that all the time, he thought, as a definitely accepted and properly organized possibility.
"But I would rather have thee shoot me," Maria said. "Promise if there is ever any need that thou wilt shoot me."
"Sure," Robert Jordan said. "I promise."
"Thank thee very much," Maria told him. "I know it is not easy to do."
"That's all right," Robert Jordan said.
You forget all this, he thought. You forget about the beauties of a civil war when you keep your mind too much on your work. You have forgotten this. Well, you are supposed to. Kashkin couldn't forget it and it spoiled his work. Or do you think the old boy had a hunch50? It was very strange because he had experienced absolutely no emotion about the shooting of Kashkin. He expected that at some time he might have it. But so far there had been absolutely none.
"But there are other things I can do for thee," Maria told him, walking close beside him, now, very serious and womanly.
"Besides shoot me?"
"Yes. I can roll cigarettes for thee when thou hast no more of those with tubes. Pilar has taught me to roll them very well, tight and neat and not spilling."
"Excellent," said Robert Jordan. "Do you lick them yourself?"
"Yes," the girl said, "and when thou art wounded I will care for thee and dress thy wound and wash thee and feed thee--"
"Maybe I won't be wounded," Robert Jordan said.
"Then when you are sick I will care for thee and make thee soups and clean thee and do all for thee. And I will read to thee."
"Maybe I won't get sick."
"Then I will bring thee coffee in the morning when thou wakest--"
"Maybe I don't like coffee," Robert Jordan told her.
"Nay, but you do," the girl said happily. "This morning you took two cups."
"Suppose I get tired of coffee and there's no need to shoot me and I'm neither wounded nor sick and I give up smoking and have only one pair of socks and hang up my robe myself. What then, rabbit?" he patted her on the back. "What then?"
"Then," said Maria, "I will borrow the scissors of Pilar and cut thy hair."
"I don't like to have my hair cut."
"Neither do I," said Maria. "And I like thy hair as it is. So. If there is nothing to do for thee, I will sit by thee and watch thee and in the nights we will make love."
"Good," Robert Jordan said. "The last project is very sensible."
"To me it seems the same," Maria smiled. "Oh, _Ingl廥_," she said.
"My name is Roberto."
"Nay. But I call thee _Ingl廥_ as Pilar does."
"Still it is Roberto."
"No," she told him. "Now for a whole day it is _Ingl廥_. And _Ingl廥_, can I help thee with thy work?"
"No. What I do now I do alone and very coldly in my head."
"Good," she said. "And when will it be finished?"
"Tonight, with luck."
"Good," she said.
Below them was the last woods that led to the camp.
"Who is that?" Robert Jordan asked and pointed52.
"Pilar," the girl said, looking along his arm. "Surely it is Pilar."
At the lower edge of the meadow where the first trees grew the woman was sitting, her head on her arms. She looked like a dark bundle from where they stood; black against the brown of the tree trunk.
"Come on," Robert Jordan said and started to run toward her through the knee-high heather. It was heavy and hard to run in and when he had run a little way, he slowed and walked. He could see the woman's head was on her folded arms and she looked broad and black against the tree trunk. He came up to her and said, "Pilar!" sharply.
The woman raised her head and looked up at him.
"Oh," she said. "You have terminated already?"
"Art thou ill?" he asked and bent down by her.
"_Qu?va_," she said. "I was asleep."
"Pilar," Maria, who had come up, said and kneeled down by her. "How are you? Are you all right?"
"I'm magnificent," Pilar said but she did not get up. She looked at the two of them. "Well, _Ingl廥_," she said. "You have been doing manly51 tricks again?"
"You are all right?" Robert Jordan asked, ignoring the words.
"Why not? I slept. Did you?"
"No."
"Well," Pilar said to the girl. "It seems to agree with you."
Maria blushed and said nothing.
"Leave her alone," Robert Jordan said.
"No one spoke to thee," Pilar told him. "Maria," she said and her voice was hard. The girl did not look up.
"Maria," the woman said again. "I said it seems to agree with thee."
"Oh, leave her alone," Robert Jordan said again.
"Shut up, you," Pilar said without looking at him. "Listen, Maria, tell me one thing."
"No," Maria said and shook her head.
"Maria," Pilar said, and her voice was as hard as her face and there was nothing friendly in her face. "Tell me one thing of thy own volition53."
The girl shook her head.
Robert Jordan was thinking, if I did not have to work with this woman and her drunken man and her chicken-crut outfit54, I would slap her so hard across the face that--.
"Go ahead and tell me," Pilar said to the girl.
"No," Maria said. "No."
"Leave her alone," Robert Jordan said and his voice did not sound like his own voice. I'll slap her anyway and the hell with it, he thought.
Pilar did not even speak to him. It was not like a snake charming a bird, nor a cat with a bird. There was nothing predatory. Nor was there anything perverted55 about it. There was a spreading, though, as a cobra's hood56 spreads. He could feel this. He could feel the menace of the spreading. But the spreading was a domination, not of evil, but of searching. I wish I did not see this, Robert Jordan thought. But it is not a business for slapping.
"Maria," Pilar said. "I will not touch thee. Tell me now of thy own volition."
"_De tu propia voluntad_," the words were in Spanish.
The girl shook her head.
"Maria," Pilar said. "Now and of thy own volition. You hear me? Anything at all."
"No," the girl said softly. "No and no."
"Now you will tell me," Pilar told her. "Anything at all. You will see. Now you will tell me."
"The earth moved," Maria said, not looking at the woman. "Truly. It was a thing I cannot tell thee."
"So," Pilar said and her voice was warm and friendly and there was no compulsion in it. But Robert Jordan noticed there were small drops of perspiration57 on her forehead and her lips. "So there was that. So that was it."
"It is true," Maria said and bit her lip.
"Of course it is true," Pilar said kindly58. "But do not tell it to your own people for they never will believe you. You have no _Cali_ blood, _Ingl廥?_"
She got to her feet, Robert Jordan helping59 her up.
"No," he said. "Not that I know of."
"Nor has the Maria that she knows of," Pilar said. "_Pues es muy raro_. It is very strange."
"But it happened, Pilar," Maria said.
"_C鏔o que no, hija?_" Pilar said. "Why not, daughter? When I was young the earth moved so that you could feel it all shift in space and were afraid it would go out from under you. It happened every night."
"You lie," Maria said.
"Yes," Pilar said. "I lie. It never moves more than three times in a lifetime. Did it _really_ move?"
"Yes," the girl said. "Truly."
"For you, _Ingl廥?_" Pilar looked at Robert Jordan. "Don't lie."
"Yes," he said. "Truly."
"Good," said Pilar. "Good. That is something."
"What do you mean about the three times?" Maria asked. "Why do you say that?"
"Three times," said Pilar. "Now you've had one."
"Only three times?"
"For most people, never," Pilar told her. "You are sure it moved?"
"One could have fallen off," Maria said.
"I guess it moved, then," Pilar said. "Come, then, and let us get to camp."
"What's this nonsense about three times?" Robert Jordan said to the big woman as they walked through the pines together.
"Nonsense?" she looked at him wryly60. "Don't talk to me of nonsense, little English."
"Is it a wizardry like the palms of the hands?"
"Nay, it is common and proven knowledge with _Gitanos_."
"But we are not _Gitanos_."
"Nay. But you have had a little luck. Non-gypsies have a little luck sometimes."
"You mean it truly about the three times?"
She looked at him again, oddly. "Leave me, _Ingl廥_," she said. "Don't molest61 me. You are too young for me to speak to."
"But, Pilar," Maria said.
"Shut up," Pilar told her. "You have had one and there are two more in the world for thee."
"And you?" Robert Jordan asked her.
"Two," said Pilar and put up two fingers. "Two. And there will never be a third."
"Why not?" Maria asked.
"Oh, shut up," Pilar said. "Shut up. _Busnes_ of thy age bore me."
"Why not a third?" Robert Jordan asked.
"Oh, shut up, will you?" Pilar said. "Shut up!"
All right, Robert Jordan said to himself. Only I am not having any. I've known a lot of gypsies and they are strange enough. But so are we. The difference is we have to make an honest living. Nobody knows what tribes we came from nor what our tribal62 inheritance is nor what the mysteries were in the woods where the people lived that we came from. All we know is that we do not know. We know nothing about what happens to us in the nights. When it happens in the day though, it is something. Whatever happened, happened and now this woman not only has to make the girl say it when she did not want to; but she has to take it over and make it her own. She has to make it into a gypsy thing. I thought she took a beating up the hill but she was certainly dominating just now back there. If it had been evil she should have been shot. But it wasn't evil. It was only wanting to keep her hold on life. To keep it through Maria.
When you get through with this war you might take up the study of women, he said to himself. You could start with Pilar. She has put in a pretty complicated day, if you ask me. She never brought in the gypsy stuff before. Except the hand, he thought. Yes, of course the hand. And I don't think she was faking about the hand. She wouldn't tell me what she saw, of course. Whatever she saw she believed in herself. But that proves nothing.
"Listen, Pilar," he said to the woman.
Pilar looked at him and smiled.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Don't be so mysterious," Robert Jordan said. "These mysteries tire me very much."
"So?" Pilar said.
"I do not believe in ogres, soothsayers, fortune tellers63, or chicken-crut gypsy witchcraft64."
"Oh," said Pilar.
"No. And you can leave the girl alone."
"I will leave the girl alone."
"And leave the mysteries," Robert Jordan said. "We have enough work and enough things that will be done without complicating65 it with chicken-crut. Fewer mysteries and more work."
"I see," said Pilar and nodded her head in agreement. "And listen, _Ingl廥_," she said and smiled at him. "Did the earth move?"
"Yes, God damn you. It moved."
Pilar laughed and laughed and stood looking at Robert Jordan laughing.
"Oh, _Ingl廥_. _Ingl廥_," she said laughing. "You are very comical. You must do much work now to regain66 thy dignity."
The Hell with you, Robert Jordan thought. But he kept his mouth shut. While they had spoken the sun had clouded over and as he looked back up toward the mountains the sky was now heavy and gray.
"Sure," Pilar said to him, looking at the sky. "It will snow."
"Now? Almost in June?"
"Why not? These mountains do not know the names of the months. We are in the moon of May."
"It can't be snow," he said. "It _can't_ snow."
"Just the same, _Ingl廥_," she said to him, "it will snow."
Robert Jordan looked up at the thick gray of the sky with the sun gone faintly yellow, and now as he watched gone completely and the gray becoming uniform so that it was soft and heavy; the gray now cutting off the tops of the mountains.
"Yes," he said. "I guess you are right."
他们在山间草地的石南丛中走着，罗伯特〃乔.丹感到石南的枝叶擦着他的腿，感到枪套里沉甸甸的手枪贴着自己的大腿,感到阳光晒在自己头上，感到从积雪的山峰上来的风吹在背上凉飕飕的，感到手里握着的姑娘的手结实而有力，手指扣着他的手指。由于她的掌心贴在他的掌心上，由于手指扣在一起，由于她的手腕和他的手腕交在一起，有一种奇异的感觉从她的手、手指和手腕传到了他的手、手指和手腕上，这种感觉就象海上飘来的第一阵徽微吹皱那平静如镜的海面的轻风那么清新，又象羽毛擦过唇边,或者风息全无时飙下一片落叶那么轻柔,只能由他们俩手指的接触才能感觉到，然而这种感觉又由于他们俩相扣的手指、紧贴在一起的掌心和手旌而变得那么强烈，那么紧张,
那么迫切，那么痛楚，那么有力，仿佛有一股电流贯串了他那条手臂，使他全身充满了若有所求的剧烈欲望。阳光照耀在她麦浪般黄褐色的头发上，照耀在她光洁可爱的金褐色脸上，照耀在她线条优美的脖颈上，这时，他使她的头往后仰，把她搂在怀里吻她。他吻着她，感到她的身体在颤栗；他把她的全身紧贴在自己身上，一条手臂搂住她的背脊,她仰头站着,浑身哆嗦。她随即把下巴搁在他头上，他感到她双手抱着他的头贴着她胸口来回摇晃。他直起腰来,用双臂紧紧抱着她，以致使她全身紧贴在他身上，离开了地面，他感到她在颤栗，她的双唇压在他脖子上，他接着把她放下来,说。”玛丽亚，舸，我的玛丽亚。”接着他说，“我们到哪儿去好?”
她没说什么，只把手伸进他的衬衫里,他感到她在解他的衬衫钮扣。她说，“我也要。我也要吻。““不，小兔子。”“要。要。要跟你一样。”“不。那怎么行。”
“嗯,那就……哦,那就……哦，哦。”接着是压在身子底下的石南的气味，她脑袋下面被压弯的茎枝的粗糙感，明亮的阳光照射在她紧闭的眼睛上,于是他将一辈子也忘不了她那线条优美的脖颈，她仰在石南丛中的头，她不由自主地微微蟮动的双唇,她那对着太阳、对着一切紧闭的眼睛的睫毛的颤动。阳光照在她紧闭的眼睛上，使她觉得一切郁是红色的,橙红的，金红色的；那一切也都是这种颜色，充塞，占有，委身,都成了这种颜色，眼花缭乱地成为一色。对他说来，那是一条不知通往哪里的黑暗通道,一次又一次地不知通往哪里，永远不知通往哪里；胳將射沉重地支在地上,不知通往哪里，黑晻的、永无尽头的、不知名的去处，始终坚持着通往不知名的去处，-‘次又一次地永远不知通往哪里，现在再也无法忍受了，无法忍受地一直、一直、一直通往不知名的去处，突然地，灼热地，屏紧地，这不知名的去处消失了，时间猝然停止，他们俩一起躺在那里，时间已经停止，他感到地面在移动,在他们俩的身体下面移开去。他接着侧身躺着，脑袋深深地枕在石南丛里,闻着石南的气味，闻着石南根、泥土、阳光透过石南丛的气味,石南刮着他赤裸的肩膀和两腰，使他发痒，姑娘躺在他对面，眼睛仍然闭着，这时，她睁幵眼睛，对他微笑。他十分疲乏地，似乎隔着很远的距离亲切地对她说，“暧，兔子。”她微笑着,毫无隔阂地说。”哎，我的英国人。”
“我不是英国人。”他疲惫地说，
“唤，你是的，”她说。“你是我的英国人。”并且伸手抓住了他的两只耳朵，吻他的前额。
“噑，”她说。“怎么样，“我吻得好一些了吧?”接着,他俩顺溪而行，他说，“玛丽亚，我爱你「你真可爱，真好,真美,跟你在一起太美妙啦，使我只觉得，在爱你的那时，好象要死过去了。”
“噢，”她说。“我每次都死过去。你没有死过去吗?”〃没有。也差不多。不过你觉得地面在移动吗。”“是呀。在我死过去的那时刻。请用手臂搂着我 “不。我巳经握着你的手了。握着你的手就够啦。”他望望她,望望草地对面空中一只鹰在盘旋觅食，午后大块的云朵这时正在向山上压过来。
“你跟别人也是这样吗？”玛丽亚问他,他们这时手拉手地走
着。
“不。说真的“你爱过不少女人了，““有几个。诃是跟你不一样。”“不象我们这个样子吗？真的?”“也快活，可是不象我们这么样。”“刚才地面移动了。以前没动过吗？”“没有。真的从来没有。”“哎，”她说。“象这样，我们有过一天啦。”他没说什么。
“我们现在至少有过啦，”玛丽亚说。“你也喜欢我吗？我讨你喜欢吗？我以后会长得好看些的。”“你现在就非常美丽。”“不,她说。“你用手摸摸我的头吧。”他抚摸她的头，觉得她那头短发很柔软，在他手指下被压平了，随后又翘起来。他把双手捧着她的头，使她仰起脸来对着自己，然后吻她。
“我很喜欢亲吻"她说。“可我吻得不好。，“你不用亲吻。”
“不，我耍。如果我做你的女人,就该事事都叫你髙兴。”“你巳经叫我非常髙兴。我不能比现在更髙兴啦，如果更竊兴了，我就不知道该怎么办啦，“
“可你以后看吧，”她非常愉快地说。“我的头发现在使你觉得有趣，因为样子怪。不过头发天天在长 会长得很长,那时候我就不难看了，说不定你会非常爱我。“
“你的身体很可爱，”他说。“再可爱也没有啦。”“只不过是因为年青而苗条吧。”
“不。美妙的身体有一种麋力。我不懂为什么有人有，有人没有。不过，你有。”
“那是给你的，”她说。“不，“
“就是。给你，永远给你，只给你一个人。可是这并不会给你带来什么。我要学会好好照頋你。你可要跟我说真话。你以前从没觉得地面移动吗?”
“从来也没有，”他老实地说。“现在我高兴了，”她说。“现在我真的高兴了。” “现在你在想别的事吗？”她问他。“是呀。我的任务，“
“我们有马儿就好了。”玛丽亚说。“我高兴的时候就想骑匹好马飞奔，有你在我身边，也骑着马飞奔，我们要越跑越快,骑着马儿飞奔,我的髙兴就永远没个完。“
“我们可以把你的高兴带到飞机上，”他心不在焉地说。“还要象那些小驱逐机那样，在天上的阳光里闪亮，不停地飞来飞去。”她说。"在空中翻筋斗呀，俯冲呀。多棒呀 ”她大笑了，“我高兴得自己也不知道在乘飞机呐。”
“你的高兴没有边，”他说，没有完全听见她讲的话。因为这时他出了神。他虽走在她身旁，心里却想着桥的问题，一切都显得清楚，确实，轮廓分明,好象照相机的镜头对准了，焦距。他看到那两个哨所,着到安塞尔莫和那吉普赛人在守望。他看到那空荡荡的公路，他看到公路上的部队调动。他看到能使那两挺自动步枪发挥最大火力的位置，可是由谁来掌握这两挺自动步枪呢？他想，收尾时是我，那么开始时由谁呢？他看到自己放好炸药，卡住,扎紧,安好雷管,接好电线,联上接头,回到他放痱只旧引爆箱的地方，接着他开始琢磨可能发生的种种情况，以及可能出差错的地方，别想啦，他对自己说。你跟这个姑娘睡过觉，现在头脑清醒，完全清醒，你却开始发愁了，考虑你非干不可的事情是一回事，发愁又是一回事。别发愁。你不能发愁呀。你了解你也许不得不千的事情，你还了解可能发生什么情况。这些情况当然可能发生的啦。
你知道自己斗争的目标，于是你全力以赴。你反对的正是现在要干的，并且为了有希望得到胜利而不得不干的事情。所以，你如今不得不使用你所喜爱的这些人，就象你要取胜而必须使用那些你对之毫无感情的军队一样。巴勃罗显然最精明 他立刻就了解情况如何险恶。那女人全力支持,现在仍然没变，但是对这件事的实质的认识遂渐压垮了她，巳经使她十分沮丧。“聋子”马上看清这件事，他干倒肯干，但是并不比他，罗伯特 乔丹,更喜欢干。
原来你是说你考虑的并不是你自己，而是那女人、那姑娘以及别的人将会碰到的逋遇。好吧。如果你没来，他们又将碰到怎样的遭遇呢？你来这里之前，他们碰到了些佧么，她们的情况又是怎样的呢？你不能那样想。除了行动时，你对他们并不负有责任。发号施令的不是你。是戈尔兹。那戈尔兹算老几？是个好将军。是你到目前为止最好的顶头上司。然而，一个人明知那些行不通的命令会导致什么后果,他还应该执行吗?哪怕命令来自那个既是军队又是党的领导人戈尔兹？对。他应该执行这些命令，因为只有在执行过程中，才能证明行不通。你没有尝试哪能知道行不通呢？要是接到命令的时侯人人都说没法执行，那么你这个人将落到什么样的境地？要是命令来到的时候你就说“行不通\那么我们大家将落到什么样的塊地？
他见过不少将领1对他们来说,所有的命令都行不通。埃斯特雷马杜拉的那个畜生戈麦斯就是如此。他见过不少次迸攻战,两翼按兵不动，理由是行不通。不，他要执行这些命令，倒霉的是不得不和这些他很喜欢的人一起干。
他们游击队所干的每桩事情，都给掩护他们、和他们一起干的人带来意外的危险和厄运。为的是什么呢？为的是最终消除危险，让这个国家成为可以安居乐业的好地方。这种话听起来象是陈词滥调,不过，这是真话。
如果共和国失败的话，那些信仰共和国的人就不能在西班牙生活下去。不过，会失败吗？是呀，根据那些已被法西斯分子占领的地区所发生的情形看来，他知道是会失败的。
巴勃罗是个畜生，可是别的人都是好样的，那么叫他们去炸桥不是出卖他们每个人吗？也许是。然而，如果他们不这样干，一星期之内就会来两中队骑兵，把他们从这个山区里赶走。
不。把他们扔在一边是不会得到任何好处的。除非你的原则是把所有的人都扔在一边，你不应该干涉任何人的事。他原来是这样想的，是不是，“对，他是这样想的。银么一个有计划的社会等等，又是怎么一回事呢？那是该由别人去干的事啦。这次战争之后，他有别的事要干。他投入这次战争是因为战争发生在他所热爱的国家里,他儐仰共和国，并且，要是共和国被毁灭,那些信仰共和国的人日子都要过不下去。整个战争期间他都得服从共产党的纪律。在西班牙，共产党提供了最好的纪律，最健全、最英明的作战纪律。战争期间他服从他们的纪律，因为在作战的时候,只有这个党的纲领和纪律是他所尊敬的。
那么他的政见又是什么呢？他对自己说 目前没有什么政见。可是跟谁也不能讲呀，他想。永远别透露这点。那么你以后打算干什么呢？我要回去,象以前一样，教西班牙语谋生，并且打算写一本真正的书 我说得准，他说，我说得准这不是什么难事
他应该跟巴勃罗谈谈政治才对。了解了解他在政治上的发展肯定是很有趣的。可能是典型的由左向右的蜕变，就象老勒洛①。巴勃罗很象老勒洛。普列托②也同样的糟糕。巴勃罗和普列托对最后胜利的信心大致上差不离。他们都抱着偷马贼的政见。他把共和国作为一种政府形式加以信任，但是共和国必须淸除这帮偷马贼，在叛乱开始时他们这帮人害共和国落到了什么境地啊。领导人民的人同时又是人民的真正的敌人，世界上哪个国家有过这种情况？
人民的敌人。这种词儿他还是不讲为妙。他不愿用这种口号式的词儿。这是和玛丽亚睡了觉而引起的思想变化。在政治方面，他已经变得象个顽固不化的浸礼会教友那样偏执死板，因此象“人民的敌人”这样的词儿是没有多加考虑就浮上心头的。任何革命的或爱国的八股也是这样。他没有考虑就使用这种词儿。当然啦，它们不是假话，但是非常容易把它们滥用。自从昨夜和今天下午发生那事以来，对这种事情，他的头脑变得越来越清酲，纯洁得多了。偏执是件古怪的东西。偏执的人必然绝对相倌自己是正确的，而克制自己，保持正统思想，正是最能助长这种自以为正确和正直的看法的。克制是异端邪说的敌人申
如果他仔细检查的话，这个前提怎么站得住脚呢？共产党总是强烈反对放荡不羁的作风，也许就是为了这个缘故吧。当你酗酒或私通的时候，你就会发觉，拿党的路线来衡量，你是多么容易犯错误啊。打倒放荡不羁的作风，那是马雅可夫斯基所犯的错误。
然而马雅可夫斯基又被尊为圣徒了。那是因为他已经盖棺论定了。他对自己说。”你自己也会盖棺论定的。现在别去想这种事情吧。想想玛丽亚吧。
①勒洛(入 。扭1 11。13X。8。。—1。。。)1西班牙激进党领袖，一九三三年十二月起曾几度出任共和国总理。一九三六年二月大选中，被人民阵线所击败。他在政治上从共和派遂渐堕落为右派。
②普列托〔11 ，“1。。1。 〉。”西班牙社会党领袖，生于一八八三年，一九三一年起先后任财政部长等职，政治上逐渐堕落为社会党右霣分子。
玛丽亚使他的偏执十分难堪。到目前为止，她还没有影晌他的决心，然而他巴不得活在人间。他愿意欣然放弃英雄或烈士的结局。他不想打一场德摩比利式的保卫战①，也不想当桥头阻敌的罗马壮士霍拉修斯②，更不想成为那个用手指堵塞堤坝窟窿的荷兰孩子 不。他乐意和玛丽亚一起生活。说得最简单，就是这样。他乐意和她共度一段漤长的岁月。
他不信再有什么渎长的岁月之类的事了,伹是,如果真有的话，他乐意和她一起消磨，他想,我们在住旅馆的时候，我看，可以用利文斯通博士③夫妇的名字来填登记表。
①公元前四八。年，斯巴达茵王列舆尼达牢三百名战士坠守德摩比利阻口，阻击波斯便略军，结杲被田，全部牺牲。
②崔拉修斯为罗马传说中的英雄,于公元前五。八年左右，和其他两名杜士坚守罗马一木桥，阻挡住入侵的伊特拉斯坎人的大军，待罗马人班桥后才眺入台伯河中，游至对岸。有说在河中袂淹死。
⑨苏格兰医学博士利; 通 1。，“1118。1。118.131，“—1，“于一八四。年离英至非洲南部任传教士，一面行医，一面到处旅行探险。一八六六年第二次到非洲，一度和外界失去联系。一七""年，典纽约先驵报、派英籍记者字利 斯坦利率探险队到非洲寻找他的下落，于十一月十曰在坦噶尼嗜湖边乌吉吉城与他会面，斯坦利第一句话躭是。”‘我者这位是利大斯通博士吧。”罗伯特 乔丹在此处用开玩笑的心情引用了这句活。
干吗不娶她？当然罗，他想。我要娶她。这样我们就成为爱达荷州太阳谷城的罗伯特申乔丹夫妇，或者是得克萨斯州科珀斯克里斯蒂城，或蒙大拿州比尤特城①的罗伯特 乔丹夫妇了參西班牙姑娘能成为了不起的妻子。我从没结过婚，所以很相信这一点。等我回大学复了职，她就是讲师太太啦。西班牙语系四年级学生傍晚来我家抽板烟，饶有兴味地换谈克维多、维加、加尔多斯②以及其他始终受人尊敬的死者的时候，玛丽亚可以跟他们讲讲某些为正统信仰而斗争的蓝衫十字军③怎样骑在她头上，而另一些拧住她胳臂，把她的裙子撩上去堵住她嘴的情况，
我不知道蒙大拿树米苏拉城的人们会怎样看待玛丽亚？那是说，假使我能回到米苏拉找到工作的话。看来我在那里要永远被戴上赤色分子的糈子，列在总的黑名单上了。尽管你自己永远不会知道 你永远说不准。他们没法证明你以前干过什么事，事实上即使你告诉了他们，他们也不会相信你，而我的护照在他们颁发限制条例之前去西班牙是有效的，
我可以待到三七年的秋天才回去，我是在三六年夏天离开的，假期虽然是一年，但在第二年秋季开学时回去也没有问题。从现在到秋季开学还有不少时间。你也可以这样说,从现在到后天这段时间也不短。不。我看没必要为大学发愁吧。只要你秋天回到那儿去就行。只要想办法回到那儿去就行。
①这三个城市都在美国西部。罗伯特“乔丹的家乡在蒙大拿州西郁米苏拉城，离其中两个城市不远。他在设想回美国后带了玛丽亚到那几个地方定居。
③维加(！ 诉 V雄、1。。2—1。85):西班牙戏剧家，现存作品四百余部，大部分为軎剧，以 羊泉，“为代表作。加尔多斯？如―18。3—1。2。〉。”西班牙作家，著有长篇小说、剧本多种,⑧指西班牙法西斯组织长枪韋窍裤，
但是现在呢,这一段时期的生活多奇怪呀。不怪才有鬼呢。西班牙就是你的任务、你的工作，因此待在西班牙是自然而合
收听单词发音 |
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thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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intensified
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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Undid
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| v. 解开, 复原 | |
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undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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flattening
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| n. 修平 动词flatten的现在分词 | |
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galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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trite
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| adj.陈腐的 | |
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fascists
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| n.法西斯主义的支持者( fascist的名词复数 ) | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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sanest
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| adj.心智健全的( sane的最高级 )；神志正常的；明智的；稳健的 | |
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prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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bigoted
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| adj.固执己见的，心胸狭窄的 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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bigotry
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| n.偏见，偏执，持偏见的行为[态度]等 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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heresy
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| n.异端邪说；异教 | |
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premise
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| n.前提；v.提论，预述 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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dyke
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| n.堤，水坝，排水沟 | |
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valid
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| adj.有确实根据的；有效的；正当的，合法的 | |
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restrictions
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| 约束( restriction的名词复数 )； 管制； 制约因素； 带限制性的条件（或规则） | |
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demolition
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| n.破坏,毁坏,毁坏之遗迹 | |
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assassination
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| n.暗杀；暗杀事件 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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palatable
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| adj.可口的，美味的；惬意的 | |
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glorifier
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| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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dough
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| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
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abort
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| v.使流产，堕胎；中止；中止(工作、计划等) | |
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41
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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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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pajamas
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| n.睡衣裤 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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holder
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| n.持有者，占有者；(台，架等)支持物 | |
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gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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artery
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| n.干线，要道；动脉 | |
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hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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volition
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| n.意志；决意 | |
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54
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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perverted
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| adj.不正当的v.滥用( pervert的过去式和过去分词 )；腐蚀；败坏；使堕落 | |
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56
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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57
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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58
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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wryly
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| adv. 挖苦地，嘲弄地 | |
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61
molest
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| vt.骚扰，干扰，调戏 | |
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tribal
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| adj.部族的，种族的 | |
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tellers
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| n.（银行）出纳员( teller的名词复数 )；（投票时的）计票员；讲故事等的人；讲述者 | |
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witchcraft
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| n.魔法，巫术 | |
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complicating
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| 使复杂化( complicate的现在分词 ) | |
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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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