-
(单词翻译:双击或拖选)
CHAPTER 6
The Shoemaker
`GOOD DAY!' said Monsieur Defarge, looking down at he white head that bent1 low over the shoemaking.
It was raised for a moment, and a very faint voice responded to the salutation, as if it were at a distance:
`Good day!'
`You are still hard at work, I see?'
After a long silence, the head was lifted for another moment, and the voice replied, `Yes--I am working.' This time, a pair of haggard eyes had looked at the questioner, before the face had dropped again.
The faintness of the voice was pitiable and dreadful. It was not the faintness of physical weakness, though confinement2 and hard fare no doubt had their part in it. Its deplorable peculiarity3 was, that it was the faintness of solitude4 and disuse. It was like the last feeble echo of a sound made long and long ago. So entirely5 had it lost the life and resonance6 of the human voice, that it affected7 the senses like a once beautiful colour faded away into a poor weak stain. So sunken and suppressed it was, that it was like a voice under-ground. So expressive8 it was, of a hopeless and lost creature, that a famished9 traveller, wearied Out by lonely wandering in a wilderness10, would have remembered home and friends in such a tone before lying down to die.
Some minutes of silent work had passed: and the haggard eyes had looked up again: not with any interest or curiosity, but with a dull mechanical perception, beforehand, that the spot where the only visitor they were aware of had stood, was not yet empty.
`I want,' said Defarge, who had not removed his gaze from the shoemaker, `to let in a little more light here. You can bear a little more?'
The shoemaker stopped his work; looked with a vacant air of listening, at the floor on one side of him; then similarly, at the floor on the other side of him; then, upward at the speaker.
`What did you say?'
`You can bear a little more light?'
`I must bear it, if you let it in.' (Laying the palest shadow of a stress upon the second word.)
The opened half-door was opened a little further, and secured at that angle for the time. A broad ray of light fell into the garret, and showed the workman with an un-finished shoe upon his lap, pausing in his labour. His few common tools and various scraps12 of leather were at his feet and on his bench. He had a white beard, raggedly13 cut, but not very long, a hollow face, and exceedingly bright eyes. The hollowness and thinness of his face would have caused them to look large, under his yet dark eyebrows14 and his confused white hair, though they had been really otherwise; but, they were naturally large, and looked un-naturally so. His yellow rags of shirt lay open at the throat, and showed his body to be withered15 and worn. He, and his old canvas frock, and his loose stockings, and all his poor tatters of clothes, had, in a long seclusion16 from direct light and air, faded down to such a dull uniformity of parchment-yellow, that it would have been hard to say which was which.
He had put up a hand between his eyes and the light, and the very bones of it seemed transparent17. So he sat, with a steadfastly18 vacant gaze, pausing in his work. He never looked at the figure before him, without first looking down on this side of himself, then on that, as if he had lost the habit of associating place with sound; he never spoke19, without first pandering20 in this manner, and forgetting to speak.
`Are you going to finish that pair of shoes to-day?' asked Defarge, motioning to Mr. Lorry to come forward.
`What did you say?'
`Do you mean to finish that pair of shoes to-day?' `I can't say that I mean to. I suppose so. I don't know.'
But, the question reminded him of his work, and he bent over it again.
Mr. Lorry came silently forward, leaving the daughter by the door. When he had stood, for a minute or two, by the side of Defarge, the shoemaker looked up. He showed no surprise at seeing another figure, but the unsteady fingers of one of his hands strayed to his lips as he looked at it (his lips and his nails were of the same pale lead-colour), and then the hand dropped to his work, and he once more bent over the shoe. The look and the action had occupied but an instant.
`You have a visitor, you see,' said Monsieur Defarge.
`What did you say?'
`Here is a visitor.'
The shoemaker looked up as before, but without removing a hand from his work.
`Come!' said Defarge. `Here is monsieur, who knows a well-made shoe when he sees one. Show him that shoe you are working at. Take it, monsieur.'
Mr. Lorry took it in his hand.
`Tell monsieur what kind of shoe it is, and the maker's name.'
There was a longer pause than usual, before the shoe-maker replied:
`I forget what it was you asked me. What did you say?'
`I said, couldn't you describe the kind of shoe, for monsieur's information?'
`It is a lady's shoe. It is a young lady's walking-shoe. It is in the present mode. I never saw the mode. I have had a pattern in my hand.' He glanced at the shoe with some little passing touch of pride.
`And the maker's name?' said Defarge.
Now that he had no work to hold, he laid the knuckles21 of the right hand in the hollow of the left, and then the knuckles of the left hand in the hollow of the right, and then passed a hand across his bearded chin, and so on in regular changes, without a moment's intermission. The task of recalling him from the vacancy22 into which he always sank when he had spoken, was like recalling some very weak person from a swoon, or endeavouring, in the hope of some disclosure, to stay the spirit of a fast-dying man.
`Did you ask me for my name?'
`Assuredly I did.'
`One Hundred and Five, North Tower.'
`Is that all?'
`One Hundred and Five, North Tower.'
With a weary sound that was not a sigh, nor a groan23, he bent to work again, until the silence was again broken.
`You are not a shoemaker by trade?' said Mr. Lorry, looking steadfastly at him.
His haggard eyes turned to Defarge as if he would have transferred the question to him: but as no help came from that quarter, they turned back on the questioner when they had sought the ground.
`I am not a shoemaker by trade? No, I was not a shoe-maker by trade. I--I learn't it here. I taught myself. I asked leave to---'
He lapsed24 away, even for minutes, ringing those measured changes on his hands the whole time. His eyes came slowly back, at last, to the face from which they had wandered; when they rested on it, he started, and resumed, in the manner of a sleeper25 that moment awake, reverting26 to a subject of last night.
`I asked leave to teach myself, and I got it with much difficulty after a long while, and I have made shoes ever since.'
As he held out his hand for the shoe that had been taken from him, Mr. Lorry said, still looking steadfastly in his face:
`Monsieur Manette, do you remember nothing of me?'
The shoe dropped to the ground, and he sat looking fixedly27 at the questioner.
`Monsieur Manette;' Mr. Lorry laid his hand upon Defarge's arm; `do you remember nothing of this man? Look at him. Look at me. Is there no old banker, no old business, no old servant, no old time, rising in your mind, Monsieur Manette?'
As the captive of many years sat looking fixedly, by turns, at Mr. Lorry and at Defarge, some long obliterated28 marks of an actively29 intent intelligence in the middle of the fore-head, gradually forced themselves through the black mist that had fallen on him. They were overclouded again, they were fainter, they were gone; but they had been there. And so exactly was the expression repeated on the fair young face of her who had crept along the wall to a point where she could see him, and where she now stood looking at him, with hands which at first had been only raised in frightened compassion30, if not even to keep him off and shut out the sight of him, but which were now extending towards him, trembling with eagerness to lay the spectral31 face upon her warm young breast, and love it back to life and hope--so exactly was the expression repeated (though in stronger characters) on her fair young face, that it looked as though it had passed like a moving light, from him to her.
Darkness had fallen on him in its place. He looked at the two, less and less attentively32, and his eyes in gloomy abstraction sought the ground and looked about him in the old way. Finally, with a deep long sigh, he took the shoe up, and resumed his work.
`Have you recognised him, monsieur?' asked Defarge in a whisper.
`Yes; for a moment. At first I thought it quite hope-less, but I have unquestionably seen, for a single moment, the face that I once knew so well. Hush33! Let us draw further back. Hush!'
She had moved from the wall of the garret, very near to the bench on which he sat. There was something awful in his unconsciousness of the figure that could have put out its hand and touched him as lie stooped over his labour.
Not a word was spoken, not a sound was made. She stood, like a spirit, beside him, and he bent over his work.
It happened, at length, that he had occasion to change the instrument in his hand, for his shoemaker's knife. It lay on that side of him which was not the side on which she stood. He had taken it up, and was stooping to work again, when his eyes caught the skirt of her dress. He raised them, and saw her face. The two spectators started forward, hut she stayed them with a motion of her hand. She had no fear of his striking at her with the knife, though they had.
He stared at her with a fearful look, and after a while his lips began to form some words, though no sound proceeded from them. By degrees, in the pauses of his quick and laboured breathing, he was heard to say:
`What is this?'
With the tears streaming down her face, she put her two hands to her lips, and kissed them to him; then clasped them on her breast, as if she laid his ruined head there.
`You are not the gaoler's daughter?'
She sighed `No.'
`Who are you?'
Not yet trusting the tones of her voice, she sat down on the bench beside him. He recoiled34, but she laid her hand upon his arm. A strange thrill struck him when she did so, and visibly passed over his frame; he laid the knife down softly, as he sat staring at her.
Her golden hair, which she wore in long curls, had been hurriedly pushed aside, and fell down over her neck. Advancing his hand by little and little, he took it up and looked at it. In the midst of the action he went astray, and, with another deep sigh, fell to work at his shoemaking.
But not for long. Releasing his arm, she laid her hand upon his shoulder. After looking doubtfully at it, two or three times, as if to be sure that it was really there, he laid down his work, put his hand to his neck, and took off a blackened string with a scrap11 of folded rag attached to it. He opened this, carefully, on his knee, and it contained a very little quantity of hair: not more than one or two long golden hairs, which he had, in some old day, wound on upon his finger.
He took her hair into his hand again, and looked closely at it. `It is the same. How can it be! When was it! How was it!'
As the concentrating expression returned to his forehead, he seemed to become conscious that it was in hers too. He turned her full to the light, and looked at her.
`She had laid her head upon my shoulder, that night when I was summoned out--she had a fear of my going, though I had none--and when I was brought to the North Tower they found these upon my sleeve. "You will leave me them? They can never help me to escape in the body, though they may in the spirit." Those were the words I said. I remember them very well.'
He formed this speech with his lips many times before he could utter it. But when he did find spoken words for it, they came to him coherently, though slowly.
`How was this?--Was it you?'
Once more, the two spectators started, as he turned upon her with a frightful35 suddenness. But she sat perfectly36 still in his grasp, and only said, in a low voice, `I entreat37 you, good gentlemen, do not come near us, do not speak, do not move!'
`Hark!' he exclaimed. `Whose voice was that?'
His hands released her as he uttered this cry, and went up to his white hair, which they tore in a frenzy38. It died out, as everything but his shoemaking did die out of him, and he refolded his little packet and tried to secure it in his breast; but he still looked at her, and gloomily shook his head.
`No, no, no; you are too young, too blooming. It can't be. See what the prisoner is. These are not the hands she knew, this is not the face she knew, this is not a voice she ever heard. No, no. She was--and He was--before the slow years of the North Tower--ages ago. What is your name, my gentle angel?'
Hailing his softened39 tone and manner, his daughter fell upon her knees before him, with her appealing hands upon his breast.
`O, sir, at another time you shall know my name, and who my mother was, and who my father, and how I never knew their hard, hard history. But I cannot tell you at this time, and I cannot tell you here. All that I may tell you, here and now, is, that I pray to you to touch me and to bless me. Kiss me, kiss me! O my dear, my dear!'
His cold white head mingled40 with her radiant hair, which warmed and lighted it as though it were the light of Freedom shining on him.
`If you hear in my voice--I don't know that it is so, but I hope it is--if you hear in my voice any resemblance to a voice that once was sweet music in your ears, weep for it, weep for it! If you touch, in touching41 my hair, anything that recalls a beloved head that lay on your breast when you were young and free, weep for it, weep for it! If, when I hint to you of a Home that is before us, where I will be true to you with all my duty and with all my faithful service, I bring back the remembrance of a Home long desolate42, while your poor heart pined away, weep for it, weep for it!'
She held him closer round the neck, and rocked him on her breast like a child.
`If' when I tell you, dearest dear, that your agony is over, and that I have come here to take you from it, and that we go to England to be at peace and at rest, I cause you to think of your useful life laid waste, and of our native France so wicked to you, weep for it, weep for it! And if' when I shall tell you of my name, and of my father who is living, and of my mother who is dead, you learn that I have to kneel to my honoured father, and implore43 his pardon for having never for his sake striven all day and lain awake and wept all night, because the love of my poor mother hid his torture from me, weep for it, weep for it! Weep for her, then, and for me! Good gentlemen, thank God! I feel his sacred tears upon my face, and his sobs44 strike against my heart. O, see Thank God for us, thank God!'
He had sunk in her arms, and his face dropped on her breast: a sight so touching, yet so terrible in the tremendous wrong and suffering which had gone before it, that the two beholders covered their faces.
When the quiet of the garret had been long undisturbed, and his heaving breast and shaken form had long yielded to the calm that must follow all storms--emblem to humanity, of the rest and silence into which the storm called Life must hush at last--they came forward to raise the father and daughter from the ground. He had gradually dropped to the floor, and lay there in a lethargy, worn out. She had nestled down with him, that his head might lie upon her arm; and her hair drooping45 over him curtained him from the light.
`If, without disturbing him,' she said, raising her hand to Mr. Lorry as he stooped over them, after repeated blowings of his nose, `all could be arranged for our leaving Paris at once, so that, from the very door, he could be taken away---'
`But, consider. Is he fit for the journey?' asked Mr. Lorry.
`More fit for that, I think, than to remain in this city, so dreadful to him.'
`It is true,' said Defarge, who was kneeling to look on and hear. `More than that; Monsieur Manette is, for all reasons, best out of France. Say, shall I hire a carriage and post-horses?'
`That's business,' said Mr. Lorry, resuming on the shortest notice his methodical manners; `and if business is to be dune46, I had better do it.'
`Then be so kind,' urged Miss Manette, `as to leave us here. You see how composed he has become, and you cannot be afraid to leave him with me now. Why should you be? If you will lock the door to secure us from interruption, I do not doubt that you will find him, when you come back, as quiet as you leave him. In any case, I will take care of him until you return, and then we will remove him straight.'
Both Mr. Lorry and Defarge were rather disinclined to this course, and in favour of one of them remaining. But, as there were not only carriage and horses to be seen to, but travelling papers; and as time pressed, for the day was drawing to an end, it came at last to their hastily dividing the business that was necessary to be done, and hurrying away to do it.
Then, as the darkness closed in, the daughter laid her head down on the hard ground close at the father's side, and watched him. The darkness deepened and deepened, and they both lay quiet, until a light gleamed through the chinks in the wall.
Mr. Lorry and Monsieur Defarge had made all ready for the journey, and had brought with them, besides travelling cloaks and wrappers, bread and meat, wine, and hot coffee. Monsieur Defarge put this provender47, and the lamp he carried, on the shoemaker's bench (there was nothing else in the garret but a pallet bed), and he and Mr. Lorry roused the captive, and assisted him to his feet.
No human intelligence could have read the mysteries of his mind, in the scared blank wonder of his face. Whether he knew what had happened, whether he recollected48 what they had said to him, whether he knew that he was free, were questions which no sagacity could have solved. They tried speaking to him; but, he was so confused, and so very slow to answer, that they took fright at his bewilderment, and agreed for the time to tamper49 with him no more. He had a wild, lost manner of occasionally clasping his head in his hands, that had not been seen in him before; yet, he had some pleasure in the mere50 sound of his daughter's voice, and invariably turned to it when she spoke.
In the submissive way of one long accustomed to obey under coercion51, he ate and drank what they gave him to eat and drink, and put on the cloak and other wrappings, that they gave him to wear. He readily responded to his daughter's drawing her arm through his, and took--and kept--her hand in both his own.
They began to descend52; Monsieur Defarge going first with the lamp, Mr. Lorry closing the little procession. They had not traversed many steps of the long main staircase when he stopped, and stared at the roof and round at the walls.
`You remember the place, my father? You remember coming up here?
`What did you say?'
But, before she could repeat the question, he murmured an answer as if she had repeated it.
`Remember? No, I don't remember. It was so very long ago.'
That he had no recollection whatever of his having been brought from his prison to that house, was apparent to them. They heard him mutter, `One Hundred and Five, North Tower;' and when he looked about him, it evidently was for the strong fortress-walls which had long encompassed53 him. On their reaching the courtyard he instinctively54 altered his tread, as being in expectation of a drawbridge; and when there was no drawbridge, and he saw the carriage waiting in the open street, he dropped his daughter's hand and clasped his head again.
No crowd was about the door; no people were discernible at any of the many windows; not even a chance passer-by was in the street. An unnatural55 silence and desertion reigned56 there. Only one soul has to be seen, and that was Madame Defarge--who leaned against the door-post, knitting, and saw nothing.
The prisoner had got into a coach, and his daughter had followed him, when Mr. Lorry's feet were arrested on the step by his asking, miserably57, for his shoemaking tools and the unfinished shoes. Madame Defarge immediately called to her husband that she would get them, and went, knitting, out of the lamplight, through the court-yard. She quickly brought them down and handed them in ;--and immediately afterwards leaned against the door-post, knitting, and saw nothing.
Defarge got upon the box, and gave the word `To the Barrier!' The postilion cracked his whip, and they clattered58 away under the Feeble over swinging lamps.
Under the over-swinging lamps--swinging ever brighter in the better streets, and ever dimmer in the worse--and by lighted shops, gay crowds, illuminated59 coffee-houses, and theatre-doors, to one of the city gates. Soldiers with lanterns, at the guard-house there. `Your papers, travellers!' `See here then, Monsieur the Officer,' said Defarge, getting down, and taking him gravely apart, `these are the papers of monsieur inside, with the white head. They were consigned60 to me, with him, at the---' He dropped his voice, there was a flutter among the military lanterns, and one of them being handed into the coach by an arm in uniform, the eyes connected with the arm looked, not an every-day or an every-night look, at monsieur with the white head. `It is well. Forward!' from the uniform. `Adieu!' from Defarge. And so, under a short grove61 of feebler and feebler over swinging lamps, out under the great grove of stars.
Beneath that arch of unmoved and eternal lights; some, so remote from this little earth that the learned tell us it is doubtful whether their rays have even yet discovered it, as a point in space where anything is suffered or done: the shadows of the night were broad and black. All through the cold and restless interval62, until dawn, they once more whispered in the ears of Mr. Jarvis Lorry--sitting opposite the buried man who had been dug out, and wondering what subtle powers were for ever lost to him, and what were capable of restoration--the old inquiry63:
`I hope you care to be recalled to life?'
And the old answer:
`I can't say.'
THE END OF THE FIRST BOOK
收听单词发音 |
1
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
confinement
|
|
| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
peculiarity
|
|
| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
resonance
|
|
| n.洪亮；共鸣；共振 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
expressive
|
|
| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
famished
|
|
| adj.饥饿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
scrap
|
|
| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
scraps
|
|
| 油渣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
raggedly
|
|
| 破烂地，粗糙地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
eyebrows
|
|
| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
withered
|
|
| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
seclusion
|
|
| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
transparent
|
|
| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
steadfastly
|
|
| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
pandering
|
|
| v.迎合（他人的低级趣味或淫欲）( pander的现在分词 )；纵容某人；迁就某事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
knuckles
|
|
| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
vacancy
|
|
| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
groan
|
|
| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
lapsed
|
|
| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
sleeper
|
|
| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
reverting
|
|
| 恢复( revert的现在分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
fixedly
|
|
| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
obliterated
|
|
| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
actively
|
|
| adv.积极地，勤奋地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
spectral
|
|
| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
attentively
|
|
| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
hush
|
|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
recoiled
|
|
| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
frightful
|
|
| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
entreat
|
|
| v.恳求，恳请 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
frenzy
|
|
| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
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： |
|
|
|
|
43
implore
|
|
| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
sobs
|
|
| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
drooping
|
|
| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
dune
|
|
| n.(由风吹积而成的)沙丘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
provender
|
|
| n.刍草；秣料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
recollected
|
|
| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
tamper
|
|
| v.干预，玩弄，贿赂，窜改，削弱，损害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
coercion
|
|
| n.强制，高压统治 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
descend
|
|
| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
encompassed
|
|
| v.围绕( encompass的过去式和过去分词 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
reigned
|
|
| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
miserably
|
|
| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
clattered
|
|
| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
consigned
|
|
| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
grove
|
|
| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
interval
|
|
| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
inquiry
|
|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
购买
在百度中搜索