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(单词翻译:双击或拖选)
Chapter II
It was nearly eight o’clock. The two young men hurried to Bakaleyev’s, to arrive before Luzhin.
“Why, who was that?” asked Razumihin, as soon as they were in the street.
“It was Svidrigaïlov, that landowner in whose house my sister was insulted when she was their governess. Through his persecuting1 her with his attentions, she was turned out by his wife, Marfa Petrovna. This Marfa Petrovna begged Dounia’s forgiveness afterwards, and she’s just died suddenly. It was of her we were talking this morning. I don’t know why I’m afraid of that man. He came here at once after his wife’s funeral. He is very strange, and is determined2 on doing something. . . . We must guard Dounia from him . . . that’s what I wanted to tell you, do you hear?”
“Guard her! What can he do to harm Avdotya Romanovna? Thank you, Rodya, for speaking to me like that. . . . We will, we will guard her. Where does he live?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t you ask? What a pity! I’ll find out, though.”
“Did you see him?” asked Raskolnikov after a pause.
“Yes, I noticed him, I noticed him well.”
“You did really see him? You saw him clearly?” Raskolnikov insisted.
They were silent again.
“Hm! . . . that’s all right,” muttered Raskolnikov. “Do you know, I fancied . . . I keep thinking that it may have been an hallucination.”
“What do you mean? I don’t understand you.”
“Well, you all say,” Raskolnikov went on, twisting his mouth into a smile, “that I am mad. I thought just now that perhaps I really am mad, and have only seen a phantom4.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why, who can tell? Perhaps I am really mad, and perhaps everything that happened all these days may be only imagination.”
“Ach, Rodya, you have been upset again! . . . But what did he say, what did he come for?”
Raskolnikov did not answer. Razumihin thought a minute.
“Now let me tell you my story,” he began, “I came to you, you were asleep. Then we had dinner and then I went to Porfiry’s, Zametov was still with him. I tried to begin, but it was no use. I couldn’t speak in the right way. They don’t seem to understand and can’t understand, but are not a bit ashamed. I drew Porfiry to the window, and began talking to him, but it was still no use. He looked away and I looked away. At last I shook my fist in his ugly face, and told him as a cousin I’d brain him. He merely looked at me, I cursed and came away. That was all. It was very stupid. To Zametov I didn’t say a word. But, you see, I thought I’d made a mess of it, but as I went downstairs a brilliant idea struck me: why should we trouble? Of course if you were in any danger or anything, but why need you care? You needn’t care a hang for them. We shall have a laugh at them afterwards, and if I were in your place I’d mystify them more than ever. How ashamed they’ll be afterwards! Hang them! We can thrash them afterwards, but let’s laugh at them now!”
“To be sure,” answered Raskolnikov. “But what will you say to-morrow?” he thought to himself. Strange to say, till that moment it had never occurred to him to wonder what Razumihin would think when he knew. As he thought it, Raskolnikov looked at him. Razumihin’s account of his visit to Porfiry had very little interest for him, so much had come and gone since then.
In the corridor they came upon Luzhin; he had arrived punctually at eight, and was looking for the number, so that all three went in together without greeting or looking at one another. The young men walked in first, while Pyotr Petrovitch, for good manners, lingered a little in the passage, taking off his coat. Pulcheria Alexandrovna came forward at once to greet him in the doorway5, Dounia was welcoming her brother. Pyotr Petrovitch walked in and quite amiably6, though with redoubled dignity, bowed to the ladies. He looked, however, as though he were a little put out and could not yet recover himself. Pulcheria Alexandrovna, who seemed also a little embarrassed, hastened to make them all sit down at the round table where a samovar was boiling. Dounia and Luzhin were facing one another on opposite sides of the table. Razumihin and Raskolnikov were facing Pulcheria Alexandrovna, Razumihin was next to Luzhin and Raskolnikov was beside his sister.
A moment’s silence followed. Pyotr Petrovitch deliberately7 drew out a cambric handkerchief reeking8 of scent9 and blew his nose with an air of a benevolent10 man who felt himself slighted, and was firmly resolved to insist on an explanation. In the passage the idea had occurred to him to keep on his overcoat and walk away, and so give the two ladies a sharp and emphatic11 lesson and make them feel the gravity of the position. But he could not bring himself to do this. Besides, he could not endure uncertainty12, and he wanted an explanation: if his request had been so openly disobeyed, there was something behind it, and in that case it was better to find it out beforehand; it rested with him to punish them and there would always be time for that.
“I trust you had a favourable13 journey,” he inquired officially of Pulcheria Alexandrovna.
“Oh, very, Pyotr Petrovitch.”
“I am gratified to hear it. And Avdotya Romanovna is not over-fatigued either?”
“I am young and strong, I don’t get tired, but it was a great strain for mother,” answered Dounia.
“That’s unavoidable! our national railways are of terrible length. ‘Mother Russia,’ as they say, is a vast country . . . . In spite of all my desire to do so, I was unable to meet you yesterday. But I trust all passed off without inconvenience?”
“Oh, no, Pyotr Petrovitch, it was all terribly disheartening,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna hastened to declare with peculiar14 intonation15, “and if Dmitri Prokofitch had not been sent us, I really believe by God Himself, we should have been utterly16 lost. Here, he is! Dmitri Prokofitch Razumihin,” she added, introducing him to Luzhin.
“I had the pleasure . . . yesterday,” muttered Pyotr Petrovitch with a hostile glance sidelong at Razumihin; then he scowled17 and was silent.
Pyotr Petrovitch belonged to that class of persons, on the surface very polite in society, who make a great point of punctiliousness18, but who, directly they are crossed in anything, are completely disconcerted, and become more like sacks of flour than elegant and lively men of society. Again all was silent; Raskolnikov was obstinately19 mute, Avdotya Romanovna was unwilling20 to open the conversation too soon. Razumihin had nothing to say, so Pulcheria Alexandrovna was anxious again.
“Marfa Petrovna is dead, have you heard?” she began having recourse to her leading item of conversation.
“To be sure, I heard so. I was immediately informed, and I have come to make you acquainted with the fact that Arkady Ivanovitch Svidrigaïlov set off in haste for Petersburg immediately after his wife’s funeral. So at least I have excellent authority for believing.”
“To Petersburg? here?” Dounia asked in alarm and looked at her mother.
“Yes, indeed, and doubtless not without some design, having in view the rapidity of his departure, and all the circumstances preceding it.”
“Good heavens! won’t he leave Dounia in peace even here?” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.
“I imagine that neither you nor Avdotya Romanovna have any grounds for uneasiness, unless, of course, you are yourselves desirous of getting into communication with him. For my part I am on my guard, and am now discovering where he is lodging21.”
“Oh, Pyotr Petrovitch, you would not believe what a fright you have given me,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna went on: “I’ve only seen him twice, but I thought him terrible, terrible! I am convinced that he was the cause of Marfa Petrovna’s death.”
“It’s impossible to be certain about that. I have precise information. I do not dispute that he may have contributed to accelerate the course of events by the moral influence, so to say, of the affront22; but as to the general conduct and moral characteristics of that personage, I am in agreement with you. I do not know whether he is well off now, and precisely23 what Marfa Petrovna left him; this will be known to me within a very short period; but no doubt here in Petersburg, if he has any pecuniary24 resources, he will relapse at once into his old ways. He is the most depraved, and abjectly25 vicious specimen26 of that class of men. I have considerable reason to believe that Marfa Petrovna, who was so unfortunate as to fall in love with him and to pay his debts eight years ago, was of service to him also in another way. Solely27 by her exertions28 and sacrifices, a criminal charge, involving an element of fantastic and homicidal brutality29 for which he might well have been sentenced to Siberia, was hushed up. That’s the sort of man he is, if you care to know.”
“Good heavens!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. Raskolnikov listened attentively30.
“Are you speaking the truth when you say that you have good evidence of this?” Dounia asked sternly and emphatically.
“I only repeat what I was told in secret by Marfa Petrovna. I must observe that from the legal point of view the case was far from clear. There was, and I believe still is, living here a woman called Resslich, a foreigner, who lent small sums of money at interest, and did other commissions, and with this woman Svidrigaïlov had for a long while close and mysterious relations. She had a relation, a niece I believe, living with her, a deaf and dumb girl of fifteen, or perhaps not more than fourteen. Resslich hated this girl, and grudged31 her every crust; she used to beat her mercilessly. One day the girl was found hanging in the garret. At the inquest the verdict was suicide. After the usual proceedings32 the matter ended, but, later on, information was given that the child had been . . . cruelly outraged33 by Svidrigaïlov. It is true, this was not clearly established, the information was given by another German woman of loose character whose word could not be trusted; no statement was actually made to the police, thanks to Marfa Petrovna’s money and exertions; it did not get beyond gossip. And yet the story is a very significant one. You heard, no doubt, Avdotya Romanovna, when you were with them the story of the servant Philip who died of ill treatment he received six years ago, before the abolition34 of serfdom.”
“I heard, on the contrary, that this Philip hanged himself.”
“Quite so, but what drove him, or rather perhaps disposed him, to suicide was the systematic35 persecution36 and severity of Mr. Svidrigaïlov.”
“I don’t know that,” answered Dounia, dryly. “I only heard a queer story that Philip was a sort of hypochondriac, a sort of domestic philosopher, the servants used to say, ‘he read himself silly,’ and that he hanged himself partly on account of Mr. Svidrigaïlov’s mockery of him and not his blows. When I was there he behaved well to the servants, and they were actually fond of him, though they certainly did blame him for Philip’s death.”
“I perceive, Avdotya Romanovna, that you seem disposed to undertake his defence all of a sudden,” Luzhin observed, twisting his lips into an ambiguous smile, “there’s no doubt that he is an astute37 man, and insinuating38 where ladies are concerned, of which Marfa Petrovna, who has died so strangely, is a terrible instance. My only desire has been to be of service to you and your mother with my advice, in view of the renewed efforts which may certainly be anticipated from him. For my part it’s my firm conviction, that he will end in a debtor’s prison again. Marfa Petrovna had not the slightest intention of settling anything substantial on him, having regard for his children’s interests, and, if she left him anything, it would only be the merest sufficiency, something insignificant39 and ephemeral, which would not last a year for a man of his habits.”
“Pyotr Petrovitch, I beg you,” said Dounia, “say no more of Mr. Svidrigaïlov. It makes me miserable40.”
“He has just been to see me,” said Raskolnikov, breaking his silence for the first time.
There were exclamations41 from all, and they all turned to him. Even Pyotr Petrovitch was roused.
“An hour and a half ago, he came in when I was asleep, waked me, and introduced himself,” Raskolnikov continued. “He was fairly cheerful and at ease, and quite hopes that we shall become friends. He is particularly anxious, by the way, Dounia, for an interview with you, at which he asked me to assist. He has a proposition to make to you, and he told me about it. He told me, too, that a week before her death Marfa Petrovna left you three thousand roubles in her will, Dounia, and that you can receive the money very shortly.”
“Thank God!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna, crossing herself. “Pray for her soul, Dounia!”
“It’s a fact!” broke from Luzhin.
“Tell us, what more?” Dounia urged Raskolnikov.
“Then he said that he wasn’t rich and all the estate was left to his children who are now with an aunt, then that he was staying somewhere not far from me, but where, I don’t know, I didn’t ask . . . .”
“But what, what does he want to propose to Dounia?” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna in a fright. “Did he tell you?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
“I’ll tell you afterwards.”
Raskolnikov ceased speaking and turned his attention to his tea.
Pyotr Petrovitch looked at his watch.
“I am compelled to keep a business engagement, and so I shall not be in your way,” he added with an air of some pique42 and he began getting up.
“Don’t go, Pyotr Petrovitch,” said Dounia, “you intended to spend the evening. Besides, you wrote yourself that you wanted to have an explanation with mother.”
“Precisely so, Avdotya Romanovna,” Pyotr Petrovitch answered impressively, sitting down again, but still holding his hat. “I certainly desired an explanation with you and your honoured mother upon a very important point indeed. But as your brother cannot speak openly in my presence of some proposals of Mr. Svidrigaïlov, I, too, do not desire and am not able to speak openly . . . in the presence of others . . . of certain matters of the greatest gravity. Moreover, my most weighty and urgent request has been disregarded . . . .”
“Your request that my brother should not be present at our meeting was disregarded solely at my instance,” said Dounia. “You wrote that you had been insulted by my brother; I think that this must be explained at once, and you must be reconciled. And if Rodya really has insulted you, then he should and will apologise.”
Pyotr Petrovitch took a stronger line.
“There are insults, Avdotya Romanovna, which no goodwill45 can make us forget. There is a line in everything which it is dangerous to overstep; and when it has been overstepped, there is no return.”
“That wasn’t what I was speaking of exactly, Pyotr Petrovitch,” Dounia interrupted with some impatience46. “Please understand that our whole future depends now on whether all this is explained and set right as soon as possible. I tell you frankly47 at the start that I cannot look at it in any other light, and if you have the least regard for me, all this business must be ended to-day, however hard that may be. I repeat that if my brother is to blame he will ask your forgiveness.”
“I am surprised at your putting the question like that,” said Luzhin, getting more and more irritated. “Esteeming, and so to say, adoring you, I may at the same time, very well indeed, be able to dislike some member of your family. Though I lay claim to the happiness of your hand, I cannot accept duties incompatible49 with . . .”
“Ah, don’t be so ready to take offence, Pyotr Petrovitch,” Dounia interrupted with feeling, “and be the sensible and generous man I have always considered, and wish to consider, you to be. I’ve given you a great promise, I am your betrothed50. Trust me in this matter and, believe me, I shall be capable of judging impartially51. My assuming the part of judge is as much a surprise for my brother as for you. When I insisted on his coming to our interview to-day after your letter, I told him nothing of what I meant to do. Understand that, if you are not reconciled, I must choose between you — it must be either you or he. That is how the question rests on your side and on his. I don’t want to be mistaken in my choice, and I must not be. For your sake I must break off with my brother, for my brother’s sake I must break off with you. I can find out for certain now whether he is a brother to me, and I want to know it; and of you, whether I am dear to you, whether you esteem48 me, whether you are the husband for me.”
“Avdotya Romanovna,” Luzhin declared huffily, “your words are of too much consequence to me; I will say more, they are offensive in view of the position I have the honour to occupy in relation to you. To say nothing of your strange and offensive setting me on a level with an impertinent boy, you admit the possibility of breaking your promise to me. You say ‘you or he,’ showing thereby52 of how little consequence I am in your eyes . . . I cannot let this pass considering the relationship and . . . the obligations existing between us.”
“What!” cried Dounia, flushing. “I set your interest beside all that has hitherto been most precious in my life, what has made up the whole of my life, and here you are offended at my making too little account of you.”
Raskolnikov smiled sarcastically53, Razumihin fidgeted, but Pyotr Petrovitch did not accept the reproof54; on the contrary, at every word he became more persistent55 and irritable56, as though he relished57 it.
“Love for the future partner of your life, for your husband, ought to outweigh58 your love for your brother,” he pronounced sententiously, “and in any case I cannot be put on the same level. . . . Although I said so emphatically that I would not speak openly in your brother’s presence, nevertheless, I intend now to ask your honoured mother for a necessary explanation on a point of great importance closely affecting my dignity. Your son,” he turned to Pulcheria Alexandrovna, “yesterday in the presence of Mr. Razsudkin (or . . . I think that’s it? excuse me I have forgotten your surname,” he bowed politely to Razumihin) “insulted me by misrepresenting the idea I expressed to you in a private conversation, drinking coffee, that is, that marriage with a poor girl who has had experience of trouble is more advantageous59 from the conjugal60 point of view than with one who has lived in luxury, since it is more profitable for the moral character. Your son intentionally61 exaggerated the significance of my words and made them ridiculous, accusing me of malicious62 intentions, and, as far as I could see, relied upon your correspondence with him. I shall consider myself happy, Pulcheria Alexandrovna, if it is possible for you to convince me of an opposite conclusion, and thereby considerately reassure63 me. Kindly64 let me know in what terms precisely you repeated my words in your letter to Rodion Romanovitch.”
“I don’t remember,” faltered65 Pulcheria Alexandrovna. “I repeated them as I understood them. I don’t know how Rodya repeated them to you, perhaps he exaggerated.”
“He could not have exaggerated them, except at your instigation.”
“Pyotr Petrovitch,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna declared with dignity, “the proof that Dounia and I did not take your words in a very bad sense is the fact that we are here.”
“Good, mother,” said Dounia approvingly.
“Then this is my fault again,” said Luzhin, aggrieved.
“Well, Pyotr Petrovitch, you keep blaming Rodion, but you yourself have just written what was false about him,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna added, gaining courage.
“I don’t remember writing anything false.”
“You wrote,” Raskolnikov said sharply, not turning to Luzhin, “that I gave money yesterday not to the widow of the man who was killed, as was the fact, but to his daughter (whom I had never seen till yesterday). You wrote this to make dissension between me and my family, and for that object added coarse expressions about the conduct of a girl whom you don’t know. All that is mean slander66.”
“Excuse me, sir,” said Luzhin, quivering with fury. “I enlarged upon your qualities and conduct in my letter solely in response to your sister’s and mother’s inquiries67, how I found you, and what impression you made on me. As for what you’ve alluded68 to in my letter, be so good as to point out one word of falsehood, show, that is, that you didn’t throw away your money, and that there are not worthless persons in that family, however unfortunate.”
“To my thinking, you, with all your virtues69, are not worth the little finger of that unfortunate girl at whom you throw stones.”
“Would you go so far then as to let her associate with your mother and sister?”
“I have done so already, if you care to know. I made her sit down to-day with mother and Dounia.”
“Rodya!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. Dounia crimsoned70, Razumihin knitted his brows. Luzhin smiled with lofty sarcasm71.
“You may see for yourself, Avdotya Romanovna,” he said, “whether it is possible for us to agree. I hope now that this question is at an end, once and for all. I will withdraw, that I may not hinder the pleasures of family intimacy72, and the discussion of secrets.” He got up from his chair and took his hat. “But in withdrawing, I venture to request that for the future I may be spared similar meetings, and, so to say, compromises. I appeal particularly to you, honoured Pulcheria Alexandrovna, on this subject, the more as my letter was addressed to you and to no one else.”
Pulcheria Alexandrovna was a little offended.
“You seem to think we are completely under your authority, Pyotr Petrovitch. Dounia has told you the reason your desire was disregarded, she had the best intentions. And indeed you write as though you were laying commands upon me. Are we to consider every desire of yours as a command? Let me tell you on the contrary that you ought to show particular delicacy73 and consideration for us now, because we have thrown up everything, and have come here relying on you, and so we are in any case in a sense in your hands.”
“That is not quite true, Pulcheria Alexandrovna, especially at the present moment, when the news has come of Marfa Petrovna’s legacy74, which seems indeed very apropos75, judging from the new tone you take to me,” he added sarcastically.
“Judging from that remark, we may certainly presume that you were reckoning on our helplessness,” Dounia observed irritably76.
“But now in any case I cannot reckon on it, and I particularly desire not to hinder your discussion of the secret proposals of Arkady Ivanovitch Svidrigaïlov, which he has entrusted77 to your brother and which have, I perceive, a great and possibly a very agreeable interest for you.”
“Good heavens!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.
Razumihin could not sit still on his chair.
“Aren’t you ashamed now, sister?” asked Raskolnikov.
“I am ashamed, Rodya,” said Dounia. “Pyotr Petrovitch, go away,” she turned to him, white with anger.
Pyotr Petrovitch had apparently78 not at all expected such a conclusion. He had too much confidence in himself, in his power and in the helplessness of his victims. He could not believe it even now. He turned pale, and his lips quivered.
“Avdotya Romanovna, if I go out of this door now, after such a dismissal, then, you may reckon on it, I will never come back. Consider what you are doing. My word is not to be shaken.”
“What insolence79!” cried Dounia, springing up from her seat. “I don’t want you to come back again.”
“What! So that’s how it stands!” cried Luzhin, utterly unable to the last moment to believe in the rupture80 and so completely thrown out of his reckoning now. “So that’s how it stands! But do you know, Avdotya Romanovna, that I might protest?”
“What right have you to speak to her like that?” Pulcheria Alexandrovna intervened hotly. “And what can you protest about? What rights have you? Am I to give my Dounia to a man like you? Go away, leave us altogether! We are to blame for having agreed to a wrong action, and I above all . . . .”
“But you have bound me, Pulcheria Alexandrovna,” Luzhin stormed in a frenzy81, “by your promise, and now you deny it and . . . besides . . . I have been led on account of that into expenses . . . .”
This last complaint was so characteristic of Pyotr Petrovitch, that Raskolnikov, pale with anger and with the effort of restraining it, could not help breaking into laughter. But Pulcheria Alexandrovna was furious.
“Expenses? What expenses? Are you speaking of our trunk? But the conductor brought it for nothing for you. Mercy on us, we have bound you! What are you thinking about, Pyotr Petrovitch, it was you bound us, hand and foot, not we!”
“Enough, mother, no more please,” Avdotya Romanovna implored82. “Pyotr Petrovitch, do be kind and go!”
“I am going, but one last word,” he said, quite unable to control himself. “Your mamma seems to have entirely83 forgotten that I made up my mind to take you, so to speak, after the gossip of the town had spread all over the district in regard to your reputation. Disregarding public opinion for your sake and reinstating your reputation, I certainly might very well reckon on a fitting return, and might indeed look for gratitude84 on your part. And my eyes have only now been opened! I see myself that I may have acted very, very recklessly in disregarding the universal verdict . . . .”
“Does the fellow want his head smashed?” cried Razumihin, jumping up.
“You are a mean and spiteful man!” cried Dounia.
“Not a word! Not a movement!” cried Raskolnikov, holding Razumihin back; then going close up to Luzhin, “Kindly leave the room!” he said quietly and distinctly, “and not a word more or . . .”
Pyotr Petrovitch gazed at him for some seconds with a pale face that worked with anger, then he turned, went out, and rarely has any man carried away in his heart such vindictive85 hatred86 as he felt against Raskolnikov. Him, and him alone, he blamed for everything. It is noteworthy that as he went downstairs he still imagined that his case was perhaps not utterly lost, and that, so far as the ladies were concerned, all might “very well indeed” be set right again.
点击收听单词发音
1 persecuting | |
(尤指宗教或政治信仰的)迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的现在分词 ); 烦扰,困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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2 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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3 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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4 phantom | |
n.幻影,虚位,幽灵;adj.错觉的,幻影的,幽灵的 | |
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5 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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6 amiably | |
adv.和蔼可亲地,亲切地 | |
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7 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
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8 reeking | |
v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 );散发臭气;发出难闻的气味 (of sth);明显带有(令人不快或生疑的跡象) | |
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9 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
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10 benevolent | |
adj.仁慈的,乐善好施的 | |
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11 emphatic | |
adj.强调的,着重的;无可置疑的,明显的 | |
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12 uncertainty | |
n.易变,靠不住,不确知,不确定的事物 | |
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13 favourable | |
adj.赞成的,称赞的,有利的,良好的,顺利的 | |
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14 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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15 intonation | |
n.语调,声调;发声 | |
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16 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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17 scowled | |
怒视,生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18 punctiliousness | |
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19 obstinately | |
ad.固执地,顽固地 | |
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20 unwilling | |
adj.不情愿的 | |
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21 lodging | |
n.寄宿,住所;(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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22 affront | |
n./v.侮辱,触怒 | |
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23 precisely | |
adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
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24 pecuniary | |
adj.金钱的;金钱上的 | |
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25 abjectly | |
凄惨地; 绝望地; 糟透地; 悲惨地 | |
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26 specimen | |
n.样本,标本 | |
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27 solely | |
adv.仅仅,唯一地 | |
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28 exertions | |
n.努力( exertion的名词复数 );费力;(能力、权力等的)运用;行使 | |
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29 brutality | |
n.野蛮的行为,残忍,野蛮 | |
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30 attentively | |
adv.聚精会神地;周到地;谛;凝神 | |
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31 grudged | |
怀恨(grudge的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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32 proceedings | |
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
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33 outraged | |
a.震惊的,义愤填膺的 | |
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34 abolition | |
n.废除,取消 | |
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35 systematic | |
adj.有系统的,有计划的,有方法的 | |
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36 persecution | |
n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
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37 astute | |
adj.机敏的,精明的 | |
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38 insinuating | |
adj.曲意巴结的,暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 );巧妙或迂回地潜入;(使)缓慢进入;慢慢伸入 | |
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39 insignificant | |
adj.无关紧要的,可忽略的,无意义的 | |
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40 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
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41 exclamations | |
n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 );感叹;感叹语;感叹词 | |
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42 pique | |
v.伤害…的自尊心,使生气 n.不满,生气 | |
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43 aggrieved | |
adj.愤愤不平的,受委屈的;悲痛的;(在合法权利方面)受侵害的v.令委屈,令苦恼,侵害( aggrieve的过去式);令委屈,令苦恼,侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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44 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
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45 goodwill | |
n.善意,亲善,信誉,声誉 | |
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46 impatience | |
n.不耐烦,急躁 | |
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47 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
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48 esteem | |
n.尊敬,尊重;vt.尊重,敬重;把…看作 | |
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49 incompatible | |
adj.不相容的,不协调的,不相配的 | |
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50 betrothed | |
n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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51 impartially | |
adv.公平地,无私地 | |
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52 thereby | |
adv.因此,从而 | |
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53 sarcastically | |
adv.挖苦地,讽刺地 | |
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54 reproof | |
n.斥责,责备 | |
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55 persistent | |
adj.坚持不懈的,执意的;持续的 | |
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56 irritable | |
adj.急躁的;过敏的;易怒的 | |
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57 relished | |
v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 );从…获得乐趣;渴望 | |
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58 outweigh | |
vt.比...更重,...更重要 | |
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59 advantageous | |
adj.有利的;有帮助的 | |
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60 conjugal | |
adj.婚姻的,婚姻性的 | |
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61 intentionally | |
ad.故意地,有意地 | |
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62 malicious | |
adj.有恶意的,心怀恶意的 | |
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63 reassure | |
v.使放心,使消除疑虑 | |
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64 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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65 faltered | |
(嗓音)颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 ); 支吾其词; 蹒跚; 摇晃 | |
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66 slander | |
n./v.诽谤,污蔑 | |
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67 inquiries | |
n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 );疑问;探究;打听 | |
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68 alluded | |
提及,暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69 virtues | |
美德( virtue的名词复数 ); 德行; 优点; 长处 | |
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70 crimsoned | |
变为深红色(crimson的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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71 sarcasm | |
n.讥讽,讽刺,嘲弄,反话 (adj.sarcastic) | |
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72 intimacy | |
n.熟悉,亲密,密切关系,亲昵的言行 | |
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73 delicacy | |
n.精致,细微,微妙,精良;美味,佳肴 | |
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74 legacy | |
n.遗产,遗赠;先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
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75 apropos | |
adv.恰好地;adj.恰当的;关于 | |
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76 irritably | |
ad.易生气地 | |
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77 entrusted | |
v.委托,托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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79 insolence | |
n.傲慢;无礼;厚颜;傲慢的态度 | |
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80 rupture | |
n.破裂;(关系的)决裂;v.(使)破裂 | |
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81 frenzy | |
n.疯狂,狂热,极度的激动 | |
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82 implored | |
恳求或乞求(某人)( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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84 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
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85 vindictive | |
adj.有报仇心的,怀恨的,惩罚的 | |
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86 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
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