I stood watching the shadowy fish slide through the gloom of the mill-pond. They were grey, descendants of the silvery things that had darted1 away from the monks2, in the young days when the valley was lusty. The whole place was gathered in the musing3 of old age. The thick-piled trees on the far shore were too dark and sober to dally4 with the sun; the weeds stood crowded and motionless. Not even a little wind flickered5 the willows6 of the islets. The water lay softly, intensely still. Only the thin stream falling through the mill-race murmured to itself of the tumult7 of life which had once quickened the valley.
"Well, what is there to look at?" My friend was a young farmer, stoutly10 built, brown eyed, with a naturally fair skin burned dark and freckled11 in patches. He laughed, seeing me start, and looked down at me with lazy curiosity.
"I was thinking the place seemed old, brooding over its past."
He looked at me with a lazy indulgent smile, and lay down on his back on the bank, saying: "It's all right for a doss—here."
"Your life is nothing else but a doss. I shall laugh when somebody jerks you awake," I replied.
He smiled comfortably and put his hands over his eyes because of the light.
"Why shall you laugh?" he drawled.
"Because you'll be amusing," said I.
We were silent for a long time, when he rolled over and began to poke12 with his finger in the bank.
I looked, and saw that he had poked14 out an old, papery nest of those pretty field bees which seem to have dipped their tails into bright amber15 dust. Some agitated16 insects ran round the cluster of eggs, most of which were empty now, the crowns gone; a few young bees staggered about in uncertain flight before they could gather power to wing away in a strong course. He watched the little ones that ran in and out among the shadows of the grass, hither and thither17 in consternation18.
"Come here—come here!" he said, imprisoning19 one poor little bee under a grass stalk, while with another stalk he loosened the folded blue wings.
"Don't tease the little beggar," I said.
"It doesn't hurt him—I wanted to see if it was because he couldn't spread his wings that he couldn't fly. There he goes—no, he doesn't. Let's try another."
"Leave them alone," said I. "Let them run in the sun. They're only just out of the shells. Don't torment20 them into flight."
He persisted, however, and broke the wing of the next.
"Oh, dear—pity!" said he, and he crushed the little thing between his fingers. Then he examined the eggs, and pulled out some silk from round the dead larva, and investigated it all in a desultory21 manner, asking of me all I knew about the insects. When he had finished he flung the clustered eggs into the water and rose, pulling out his watch from the depth of his breeches' pocket.
"I thought it was about dinner-time," said he, smiling at me. "I always know when it's about twelve. Are you coming in?"
"I'm coming down at any rate," said I as we passed along the pond bank, and over the plank-bridge that crossed the brow of the falling sluice22. The bankside where the grey orchard23 twisted its trees, was a steep declivity24, long and sharp, dropping down to the garden.
The stones of the large house were burdened with ivy25 and honey-suckle, and the great lilac-bush that had once guarded the porch now almost blocked the doorway26. We passed out of the front garden into the farm-yard, and walked along the brick path to the back door.
"Shut the gate, will you?" he said to me over his shoulder, as he passed on first.
We went through the large scullery into the kitchen. The servant-girl was just hurriedly snatching the table-cloth out of the table drawer, and his mother, a quaint27 little woman with big, brown eyes, was hovering28 round the wide fireplace with a fork.
"Dinner not ready?" said he with a shade of resentment29.
"No, George," replied his mother apologetically, "it isn't. The fire wouldn't burn a bit. You shall have it in a few minutes, though."
He dropped on the sofa and began to read a novel. I wanted to go, but his mother insisted on my staying.
"Don't go," she pleaded. "Emily will be so glad if you stay,—and father will, I'm sure. Sit down, now."
I sat down on a rush chair by the long window that looked out into the yard. As he was reading, and as it took all his mother's powers to watch the potatoes boil and the meat roast, I was left to my thoughts. George, indifferent to all claims, continued to read. It was very annoying to watch him pulling his brown moustache, and reading indolently while the dog rubbed against his leggings and against the knee of his old riding-breeches. He would not even be at the trouble to play with Trip's ears, he was so content with his novel and his moustache. Round and round twirled his thick fingers, and the muscles of his bare arm moved slightly under the red-brown skin. The little square window above him filtered a green light from the foliage30 of the great horse-chestnut outside and the glimmer31 fell on his dark hair, and trembled across the plates which Annie was reaching down from the rack, and across the face of the tall clock. The kitchen was very big; the table looked lonely, and the chairs mourned darkly for the lost companionship of the sofa; the chimney was a black cavern32 away at the back, and the inglenook seats shut in another little compartment33 ruddy with fire-light, where the mother hovered34. It was rather a desolate35 kitchen, such a bare expanse of uneven36 grey flagstones, such far-away dark corners and sober furniture. The only gay things were the chintz coverings of the sofa and the arm-chair cushions, bright red in the bare sombre room; some might smile at the old clock, adorned37 as it was with remarkable38 and vivid poultry39; in me it only provoked wonder and contemplation.
In a little while we heard the scraping of heavy boots outside, and the father entered. He was a big burly farmer, with his half-bald head sprinkled with crisp little curls.
"Have you many more rows in the coppice close?"
"Finished!" replied George, continuing to read.
"I expect so," replied his wife, whose soul was in the saucepans. At last she deemed the potatoes cooked and went out with the steaming pan.
The dinner was set on the table and the father began to carve. George looked over his book to survey the fare then read until his plate was handed him. The maid sat at her little table near the window, and we began the meal. There came the treading of four feet along the brick path, and a little girl entered, followed by her grown-up sister. The child's long brown hair was tossed wildly back beneath her sailor hat. She flung aside this article of her attire42 and sat down to dinner, talking endlessly to her mother. The elder sister, a girl of about twenty-one, gave me a smile and a bright look from her brown eyes, and went to wash her hands. Then she came and sat down, and looked disconsolately43 at the underdone beef on her plate.
"I do hate this raw meat," she said.
"Good for you," replied her brother, who was eating industriously44. "Give you some muscle to wallop the nippers."
She pushed it aside, and began to eat the vegetables. Her brother re-charged his plate and continued to eat.
"Well, our George, I do think you might pass a body that gravy," said Mollie, the younger sister, in injured tones.
"No!" retorted the young lady of twelve, "I don't expect you've done with it yet."
"Clever!" he exclaimed across a mouthful.
"Do you think so?" said the elder sister Emily, sarcastically46.
"Yes," he replied complacently47, "you've made her as sharp as yourself, I see, since you've had her in Standard Six. I'll try a potato, mother, if you can find one that's done."
"Well, George, they seem mixed, I'm sure that was done that I tried. There—they are mixed—look at this one, it's soft enough. I'm sure they were boiling long enough."
"Perhaps the kids were too much for her this morning," he said calmly, to nobody in particular.
"No," chimed in Mollie, "she knocked a lad across his nose and made it bleed."
"Little wretch," said Emily, swallowing with difficulty. "I'm glad I did! Some of my lads belong to—to——"
"To the devil," suggested George, but she would not accept it from him.
Her father sat laughing; her mother with distress49 in her eyes, looked at her daughter, who hung her head and made patterns on the table-cloth with her finger.
"Are they worse than the last lot?" asked the mother, softly, fearfully.
"She merely felt like bashing 'em," said George, calling, as he looked at the sugar bowl and at his pudding:
"Fetch some more sugar, Annie."
The maid rose from her little table in the corner, and the mother also hurried to the cupboard. Emily trifled with her dinner and said bitterly to him:
"I only wish you had a taste of teaching, it would cure your self-satisfaction."
"Pf!" he replied contemptuously, "I could easily bleed the noses of a handful of kids."
This speech so tickled52 Mollie that she went off into a burst of laughter, much to the terror of her mother, who stood up in trembling apprehension53 lest she should choke.
"You made a joke, Emily," he said, looking at his younger sister's contortions54.
Emily was too impatient to speak to him further, and left the table. Soon the two men went back to the fallow to the turnips, and I walked along the path with the girls as they were going to school.
"He irritates me in everything he does and says," burst out Emily with much heat.
"He's a pig sometimes," said I.
"He is!" she insisted. "He irritates me past bearing, with his grand know-all way, and his heavy smartness—I can't beat it. And the way mother humbles55 herself to him——!"
"It makes you wild," said I.
"Wild!" she echoed, her voice vibrating with nervous passion. We walked on in silence, till she asked.
"Have you brought me those verses of yours?"
"No—I'm so sorry—I've forgotten them again. As a matter of fact, I've sent them away."
"But you promised me."
She frowned with impatience57 and her disappointment was greater than necessary. When I left her at the corner of the lane I felt a sting of her deep reproach in my mind. I always felt the reproach when she had gone.
I ran over the little bright brook58 that came from the weedy, bottom pond. The stepping-stones were white in the sun, and the water slid sleepily among them. One or two butterflies, indistinguishable against the blue sky, trifled from flower to flower and led me up the hill, across the field where the hot sunshine stood as in a bowl, and I was entering the caverns59 of the wood, where the oaks bowed over and saved us a grateful shade. Within, everything was so still and cool that my steps hung heavily along the path. The bracken held out arms to me, and the bosom60 of the wood was full of sweetness, but I journeyed on, spurred by the attacks of an army of flies which kept up a guerrilla warfare61 round my head till I had passed the black rhododendron bushes in the garden, where they left me, scenting63 no doubt Rebecca's pots of vinegar and sugar.
The low red house, with its roof discoloured and sunken, dozed64 in sunlight, and slept profoundly in the shade thrown by the massive maples65 encroaching from the wood.
There was no one in the dining-room, but I could hear the whirr of a sewing-machine coming from the little study, a sound as of some great, vindictive66 insect buzzing about, now louder, now softer, now settling. Then came a jingling67 of four or five keys at the bottom of the keyboard of the drawing-room piano, continuing till the whole range had been covered in little leaps, as if some very fat frog had jumped from end to end.
"That must be mother dusting the drawing-room," I thought. The unaccustomed sound of the old piano startled me. The vocal68 chords behind the green silk bosom,—you only discovered it was not a bronze silk bosom by poking69 a fold aside,—had become as thin and tuneless as a dried old woman's. Age had yellowed the teeth of my mother's little piano, and shrunken its spindle legs. Poor old thing, it could but screech71 in answer to Lettie's fingers flying across it in scorn, so the prim72, brown lips were always closed save to admit the duster.
Now, however, the little old maidish piano began to sing a tinkling73 Victorian melody, and I fancied it must be some demure74 little woman with curls like bunches of hops75 on either side of her face, who was touching76 it. The coy little tune70 teased me with old sensations, but my memory would give me no assistance. As I stood trying to fix my vague feelings, Rebecca came in to remove the cloth from the table.
"Who is playing, Beck?" I asked.
"Your mother, Cyril."
"But she never plays. I thought she couldn't."
"Ah," replied Rebecca, "you forget when you was a little thing sitting playing against her frock with the prayer-book, and she singing to you. You can't remember her when her curls was long like a piece of brown silk. You can't remember her when she used to play and sing, before Lettie came and your father was——"
Rebecca turned and left the room. I went and peeped in the drawing-room. Mother sat before the little brown piano, with her plump, rather stiff fingers moving across the keys, a faint smile on her lips. At that moment Lettie came flying past me, and flung her arms round mother's neck, kissing her and saying:
"Oh, my Dear, fancy my Dear playing the piano! Oh, Little Woman, we never knew you could!"
"Nor can I," replied mother laughing, disengaging herself. "I only wondered if I could just strum out this old tune; I learned it when I was quite a girl, on this piano. It was a cracked one then; the only one I had."
"But play again, dearie, do play again. It was like the clinking of lustre77 glasses, and you look so quaint at the piano. Do play, my dear!" pleaded Lettie.
"Nay78," said my mother, "the touch of the old keys on my fingers is making me sentimental—you wouldn't like to see me reduced to the tears of old age?"
"Old age!" scolded Lettie, kissing her again. "You are young enough to play little romances. Tell us about it mother."
"About what, child?"
"When you used to play."
"Before my fingers were stiff with fifty odd years? Where have you been, Cyril, that you weren't in to dinner?"
"Only down to Strelley Mill," said I.
"Of course," said mother coldly.
"Why 'of course'?" I asked.
"And you came away as soon as Em went to school?" said Lettie.
"I did," said I.
They were cross with me, these two women. After I had swallowed my little resentment I said:
"They would have me stay to dinner."
My mother vouchsafed79 no reply.
"And has the great George found a girl yet?" asked Lettie.
"No," I replied, "he never will at this rate. Nobody will ever be good enough for him."
"I'm sure I don't know what you can find in any of them to take you there so much," said my mother.
"I know you like her" said my mother sarcastically. "As for him—he's an unlicked cub81. What can you expect when his mother has spoiled him as she has. But I wonder you are so interested in licking him." My mother sniffed82 contemptuously.
"He is rather good looking," said Lettie with a smile.
"You could make a man of him, I am sure," I said, bowing satirically to her.
"I am not interested," she replied, also satirical.
Then she tossed her head, and all the fine hairs that were free from bonds made a mist of yellow light in the sun.
"What frock shall I wear Mater?" she asked.
"Nay, don't ask me," replied her mother.
"I think I'll wear the heliotrope—though this sun will fade it," she said pensively83. She was tall, nearly six feet in height, but slenderly formed. Her hair was yellow, tending towards a dun brown. She had beautiful eyes and brows, but not a nice nose. Her hands were very beautiful.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
She did not answer me.
"To Tempest's!" I said. She did not reply.
"Well I don't know what you can see in him," I continued.
"Indeed!" said she. "He's as good as most folk——" then we both began to laugh.
"Not," she continued blushing, "that I think anything about him. I'm merely going for a game of tennis. Are you coming?"
"What shall you say if I agree?" I asked.
"Oh!" she tossed her head. "We shall all be very pleased I'm sure."
She laughed at me, blushed, and ran upstairs.
Half an hour afterwards she popped her head in the study to bid me good-bye, wishing to see if I appreciated her. She was so charming in her fresh linen85 frock and flowered hat, that I could not but be proud of her. She expected me to follow her to the window, for from between the great purple rhododendrons she waved me a lace mitten86, then glinted on like a flower moving brightly through the green hazels. Her path lay through the wood in the opposite direction from Strelley Mill, down the red drive across the tree-scattered space to the highroad. This road ran along the end of our lakelet, Nethermere, for about a quarter of a mile. Nethermere is the lowest in a chain of three ponds. The other two are the upper and lower mill ponds at Strelley: this is the largest and most charming piece of water, a mile long and about a quarter of a mile in width. Our wood runs down to the water's edge. On the opposite side, on a hill beyond the farthest corner of the lake, stands Highclose. It looks across the water at us in Woodside with one eye as it were, while our cottage casts a sidelong glance back again at the proud house, and peeps coyly through the trees.
I could see Lettie like a distant sail stealing along the water's edge, her parasol flowing above. She turned through the wicket under the pine clump87, climbed the steep field, and was enfolded again in the trees beside Highclose.
Leslie was sprawled88 on a camp-chair, under a copper89 beech90 on the lawn, his cigar glowing. He watched the ash grow strange and grey in the warm daylight, and he felt sorry for poor Nell Wycherley, whom he had driven that morning to the station, for would she not be frightfully cut up as the train whirled her further and further away? These girls are so daft with a fellow! But she was a nice little thing—he'd get Marie to write to her.
At this point he caught sight of a parasol fluttering along the drive, and immediately he fell into a deep sleep, with just a tiny slit91 in his slumber92 to allow him to see Lettie approach. She, finding her watchman ungallantly asleep, and his cigar, instead of his lamp untrimmed, broke off a twig93 of syringa whose ivory buds had not yet burst with luscious94 scent62. I know not how the end of his nose tickled in anticipation95 before she tickled him in reality, but he kept bravely still until the petals96 swept him. Then, starting from his sleep, he exclaimed: "Lettie! I was dreaming of kisses!"
"On the bridge of your nose?" laughed she—"But whose were the kisses?"
"Who produced the sensation?" he smiled.
"Since I only tapped your nose you should dream of——"
"Go on!" said he, expectantly.
"Of Doctor Slop," she replied, smiling to herself as she closed her parasol.
"I do not know the gentleman," he said, afraid that she was laughing at him.
"No—your nose is quite classic," she answered, giving him one of those brief intimate glances with which women flatter men so cleverly. He radiated with pleasure.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
darted
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
monks
|
|
| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
musing
|
|
| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
dally
|
|
| v.荒废(时日)，调情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
flickered
|
|
| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
willows
|
|
| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
tumult
|
|
| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
perch
|
|
| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
alder
|
|
| n.赤杨树 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
stoutly
|
|
| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
freckled
|
|
| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
poke
|
|
| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
leisurely
|
|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
poked
|
|
| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
amber
|
|
| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
consternation
|
|
| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
imprisoning
|
|
| v.下狱，监禁( imprison的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
torment
|
|
| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
desultory
|
|
| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
sluice
|
|
| n.水闸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
orchard
|
|
| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
declivity
|
|
| n.下坡，倾斜面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
ivy
|
|
| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
quaint
|
|
| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
hovering
|
|
| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
glimmer
|
|
| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
cavern
|
|
| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
compartment
|
|
| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
hovered
|
|
| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
uneven
|
|
| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
adorned
|
|
| [计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
poultry
|
|
| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
Forsaken
|
|
| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
turnips
|
|
| 芜青( turnip的名词复数 )； 芜菁块根； 芜菁甘蓝块根； 怀表 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
attire
|
|
| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
disconsolately
|
|
| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
industriously
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
joint
|
|
| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
sarcastically
|
|
| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
complacently
|
|
| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
irritably
|
|
| ad.易生气地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
curt
|
|
| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
bleating
|
|
| v.（羊，小牛）叫( bleat的现在分词 )；哭诉；发出羊叫似的声音；轻声诉说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
tickled
|
|
| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
contortions
|
|
| n.扭歪，弯曲；扭曲，弄歪，歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
humbles
|
|
| v.使谦恭( humble的第三人称单数 )；轻松打败（尤指强大的对手）；低声下气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
puff
|
|
| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
brook
|
|
| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
caverns
|
|
| 大山洞，大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
warfare
|
|
| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
scenting
|
|
| vt.闻到（scent的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
dozed
|
|
| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
maples
|
|
| 槭树，枫树( maple的名词复数 )； 槭木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
vindictive
|
|
| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
jingling
|
|
| 叮当声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
vocal
|
|
| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
poking
|
|
| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
tune
|
|
| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
screech
|
|
| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
prim
|
|
| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
tinkling
|
|
| n.丁当作响声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
demure
|
|
| adj.严肃的；端庄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
hops
|
|
| 跳上[下]( hop的第三人称单数 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
lustre
|
|
| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
vouchsafed
|
|
| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
nettled
|
|
| v.拿荨麻打，拿荨麻刺（nettle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
cub
|
|
| n.幼兽，年轻无经验的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
sniffed
|
|
| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
pensively
|
|
| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
irony
|
|
| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
mitten
|
|
| n.连指手套，露指手套 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
clump
|
|
| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
sprawled
|
|
| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
copper
|
|
| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
beech
|
|
| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
slit
|
|
| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
slumber
|
|
| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
twig
|
|
| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
luscious
|
|
| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
anticipation
|
|
| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
petals
|
|
| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |