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(单词翻译:双击或拖选)
RAIN
It was nearly bed-time and when they awoke next morning land would be in sight. Dr Macphail lit his pipe and, leaning over the rail, searched the heavens for the Southern Cross. After two years at the front and a wound that had taken longer to heal than it should, he was glad to settle down quietly at Apia for twelve months at least, and he felt already better for the journey. Since some of the passengers were leaving the ship next day at Pago-Pago they had had a little dance that evening and in his ears hammered still the harsh notes of the mechanical piano. But the deck was quiet at last. A little way off he saw his wife in a long chair talking with the Davidsons, and he strolled over to her. When he sat down under the light and took off his hat you saw that he had very red hair, with a bald patch on the crown, and the red, freckled1 skin which accompanies red hair; he was a man of forty, thin, with a pinched face, precise and rather pedantic2; and he spoke3 with a Scots accent in a very low, quiet voice.
Between the Macphails and the Davidsons, who were missionaries4, there had arisen the intimacy5 of shipboard, which is due to propinquity rather than to any community of taste. Their chief tie was the disapproval6 they shared of the men who spent their days and nights in the smoking-room playing poker7 or bridge and drinking. Mrs Macphail was not a little flattered to think that she and her husband were the only people on board with whom the Davidsons were willing to associate, and even the doctor, shy but no fool, half unconsciously acknowledged the compliment. It was only because he was of an argumentative mind that in their cabin at night he permitted himself to carp.
‘Mrs Davidson was saying she didn’t know how they’d have got through the journey if it hadn’t been for us,’ said Mrs Macphail as she neatly8 brushed out her transformation9. ‘She said we were really the only people on the ship they cared to know’
‘I shouldn’t have thought a missionary10 was such a big bug11 that he could afford to put on frills.’
‘It’s not frills. I quite understand what she means. It wouldn’t have been very nice for the Davidsons to have to mix with all that rough lot in the smoking-room.’
‘I’ve asked you over and over again not to joke about religion,’ answered his wife. ‘I shouldn’t like to have a nature like yours, Alec. You never look for the best in people.’
He gave her a sidelong glance with his pale, blue eyes, but did not reply. After many years of married life he had learned that it was more conducive14 to peace to leave his wife with the last word. He was undressed before she was, and climbing into the upper bunk15 he settled down to read himself to sleep.
When he came on deck next morning they were close to land. He looked at it with greedy eyes. There was a thin strip of silver beach rising quickly to hills covered to the top with luxuriant vegetation. The coconut16 trees, thick and green, came nearly to the water’s edge, and among them you saw the grass houses of the Samoans; and here and there, gleaming white, a little church. Mrs Davidson came and stood beside him. She was dressed in black and wore round her neck a gold chain, from which dangled17 a small cross. She was a little woman, with brown, dull hair very elaborately arranged, and she had prominent blue eyes behind invisible pince-nez. Her face was long, like a sheep’s, but she gave no impression of foolishness, rather of extreme alertness; she had the quick movements of a bird. The most remarkable18 thing about her was her voice, high, metallic19, and without inflexion; it fell on the ear with a hard monotony, irritating to the nerves like the pitiless clamour of the pneumatic drill.
‘This must seem like home to you,’ said Dr Macphail, with his thin, difficult smile.
‘Ours are low islands, you know, not like these. Coral. These are volcanic20. We’ve got another ten days’ journey to reach them.’
‘In these parts that’s almost like being in the next street at home,’ said Dr Macphail facetiously21.
‘Well, that’s rather an exaggerated way of putting it, but one does look at distances differently in the South Seas. So far you’re right.’
Dr Macphail sighed faintly.
‘I’m glad we’re not stationed here,’ she went on. ‘They say this is a terribly difficult place to work in. The steamers’ touching22 makes the people unsettled; and then there’s the naval23 station; that’s bad for the natives. In our district we don’t have difficulties like that to contend with. There are one or two traders, of course, but we take care to make them behave, and if they don’t we make the place so hot for them they’re glad to go.’
Fixing the glasses on her nose she looked at the green island with a ruthless stare.
‘It’s almost a hopeless task for the missionaries here. I can never be sufficiently24 thankful to God that we are at least spared that.’
Davidson’s district consisted of a group of islands to the North of Samoa; they were widely separated and he had frequently to go long distances by canoe. At these times his wife remained at their headquarters and managed the mission. Dr Macphail felt his heart sink when he considered the efficiency with which she certainly managed it. She spoke of the depravity of the natives in a voice which nothing could hush25, but with a vehemently26 unctuous27 horror. Her sense of delicacy28 was singular. Early in their acquaintance she had said to him:
‘You know, their marriage customs when we first settled in the islands were so shocking that I couldn’t possibly describe them to you. But I’ll tell Mrs Macphail and she’ll tell you.’
Then he had seen his wife and Mrs Davidson, their deck-chairs close together, in earnest conversation for about two hours. As he walked past them backwards29 and forwards for the sake of exercise, he had heard Mrs Davidson’s agitated30 whisper, like the distant flow of a mountain torrent31, and he saw by his wife’s open mouth and pale face that she was enjoying an alarming experience. At night in their cabin she repeated to him with bated breath all she had heard.
‘Well, what did I say to you?’ cried Mrs Davidson, exultant32 next morning. Did you ever hear anything more dreadful? You don’t wonder that I couldn’t tell you myself, do you? Even though you are a doctor.’
Mrs Davidson scanned his face. She had a dramatic eagerness to see that she had achieved the desired effect.
‘Can you wonder that when we first went there our hearts sank? You’ll hardly believe me when I tell you it was impossible to find a single good girl in any of the villages.’
‘Mr Davidson and I talked it over, and we made up our minds the first thing to do was to put down the dancing. The natives were crazy about dancing.’
‘I was not averse34 to it myself when I was a young man,’ said Dr Macphail. ‘I guessed as much when I heard you ask Mrs Macphail to have a turn with you last night. I don’t think there’s any real harm if a man dances with his wife, but I was relieved that she wouldn’t. Under the circumstances I thought it better that we should keep ourselves to ourselves.’
‘Under what circumstances?’
Mrs Davidson gave him a quick look through her pince-nez, but did not answer his question.
‘But among white people it’s not quite the same,’ she went on, ‘though I must say I agree with Mr Davidson, who says he can’t understand how a husband can stand by and see his wife in another man’s arms, and as far as I’m concerned I’ve never danced a step since I married. But the native dancing is quite another matter. It’s not only immoral35 in itself, but it distinctly leads to immorality36. However, I’m thankful to God that we stamped it out, and I don’t think I’m wrong in saying that no one has danced in our district for eight years.’
But now they came to the mouth of the harbour and Mrs Macphail joined them. The ship turned sharply and steamed slowly in. It was a great landlocked harbour big enough to hold a fleet of battleships; and all around it rose, high and steep, the green hills. Near the entrance, getting such breeze as blew from the sea, stood the governor’s house in a garden. The Stars and Stripes dangled languidly from a flagstaff. They passed two or three trim bungalows37, and a tennis court, and then they came to the quay38 with its warehouses39. Mrs Davidson pointed40 out the schooner41, moored42 two or three hundred yards from the side, which was to take them to Apia. There was a crowd of eager, noisy, and good-humoured natives come from all parts of the island, some from curiosity, others to barter43 with the travellers on their way to Sydney; and they brought pineapples and huge bunches of bananas, tapa cloths, necklaces of shells or sharks’ teeth, kava-bowls, and models of war canoes. American sailors, neat and trim, clean-shaven and frank of face, sauntered among them, and there was a little group of officials. While their luggage was being landed the Macphails and Mrs Davidson watched the crowd. Dr Macphail looked at the yaws from which most of the children and the young boys seemed to suffer, disfiguring sores like torpid44 ulcers45, and his professional eyes glistened46 when he saw for the first time in his experience cases of elephantiasis, men going about with a huge, heavy arm or dragging along a grossly disfigured leg. Men and women wore the lava-lava.
‘It’s a very indecent costume,’ said Mrs Davidson. ‘Mr Davidson thinks it should be prohibited by law. How can you expect people to be moral when they wear nothing but a strip of red cotton round their loins?’
‘It’s suitable enough to the climate,’ said the doctor, wiping the sweat off his head.
Now that they were on land the heat, though it Was so early in the morning, was already oppressive. Closed in by its hills, not a breath of air came in to Pago-Pago.
‘In our islands,’ Mrs Davidson went on in her high-pitched tones, ‘we’ve practically eradicated48 the lava-lava. A few old men still continue to wear it, but that’s all. The women have all taken to the Mother Hubbard, and the men wear trousers and singlets. At the beginning of our stay Mr Davidson said in one of his reports: the inhabitants of these islands will never be thoroughly49 Christianized till every boy of more than ten years is made to wear a pair of trousers.’
But Mrs Davidson had given two or three of her birdlike glances at heavy grey clouds that came floating over the mouth of the harbour. A few drops began to fall.
‘We’d better take shelter,’ she said.
They made their way with all the crowd to a great shed of corrugated51 iron, and the rain began to fall in torrents52. They stood there for some time and then were joined by Mr Davidson. He had been polite enough to the Macphails during the journey, but he had not his wife’s sociability53, and had spent much of his time reading. He was a silent, rather sullen54 man, and you felt that his affability was a duty that he imposed upon himself Christianly; he was by nature reserved and even morose55. His appearance was singular. He was very tall and thin, with long limbs loosely jointed56; hollow cheeks, and curiously57 high cheek-bones; he had so cadaverous an air that it surprised you to notice how full and sensual were his lips. He wore his hair very long. His dark eyes, set deep in their sockets58, were large and tragic59; and his hands with their big, long fingers, were finely shaped; they gave him a look of great strength. But the most striking thing about him was the feeling he gave you of suppressed fire. It was impressive and vaguely60 troubling. He was not a man with whom any intimacy was possible.
He brought now unwelcome news. There was an epidemic61 of measles62, a serious and often fatal disease among the Kanakas, on the island, and a case had developed among the crew of the schooner which was to take them on their journey. The sick man had been brought ashore63 and put in hospital on the quarantine station, but telegraphic instructions had been sent from Apia to say that the schooner would not be allowed to enter the harbour till it was certain no other member of the crew was affected64.
‘It means we shall have to stay here for ten days at least.’
‘But I’m urgently needed at Apia,’ said Dr Macphail.
‘That can’t be helped. If no more cases develop on board, the schooner will be allowed to sail with white passengers, but all native traffic is prohibited for three months.’
‘Is there a hotel here?’ asked Mrs Macphail.
Davidson gave a low chuckle.
‘There’s not.’
‘What shall we do then?’
‘I’ve been talking to the governor. There’s a trader along the front who has rooms that he rents, and my proposition is that as soon as the rain lets up we should go along there and see what we can do. Don’t expect comfort. You’ve just got to be thankful if we get a bed to sleep on and a roof over our heads.’
But the rain showed no signs of stopping, and at length with umbrellas and waterproofs66 they set out. There was no town, but merely a group of official buildings, a store or two, and at the back, among the coconut trees and plantains, a few native dwellings67. The house they sought was about five minutes’ walk from the wharf68 It was a frame house of two storeys, with broad verandas70 on both floors and a roof of corrugated iron. The owner was a half-caste named Horn, with a native wife surrounded by little brown children, and on the ground-floor he had a store where he sold canned goods and cottons. The rooms he showed them were almost bare of furniture. In the Macphails’ there was nothing but a poor, worn bed with a ragged71 mosquito net, a rickety chair, and a washstand. They looked round with dismay. The rain poured down without ceasing.
‘I’m not going to unpack72 more than we actually need,’ said Mrs Macphail. Mrs Davidson came into the room as she was unlocking a portmanteau. She was very brisk and alert. The cheerless surroundings had no effect on her. ‘If you’ll take my advice you’ll get a needle and cotton and start right in to mend the mosquito net,’ she said, ‘or you’ll not be able to get a wink73 of sleep tonight.’
Will they be very bad?’ asked Dr Macphail.
‘This is the season for them. When you’re asked to a party at Government House at Apia you’ll notice that all the ladies are given a pillowslip to put their-their lower extremities74 in.’
‘I wish the rain would stop for a moment,’ said Mrs Macphail. ‘I could try to make the place comfortable with more heart if the sun were shining.’
‘Oh, if you wait for that, you’ll wait a long time. Pago-Pago is about the rainiest place in the Pacific. You see, the hills, and that bay, they attract the water, and one expects rain at this time of year anyway.’
She looked from Macphail to his wife, standing75 helplessly in different parts of the room, like lost souls, and she pursed her lips. She saw that she must take them in hand. Feckless people like that made her impatient, but her hands itched47 to put everything in the order which came so naturally to her.
‘Here, you give me a needle and cotton and I’ll mend that net of yours, while you go on with your unpacking76. Dinner’s at one. Dr Macphail, you’d better go down to the wharf and see that your heavy luggage has been put in a dry place. You know what these natives are, they’re quite capable of storing it where the rain will beat in on it all the time.’
The doctor put on his waterproof65 again and went downstairs. At the door Mr Horn was standing in conversation with the quartermaster of the ship they had just arrived in and a second-class passenger whom Dr Macphail had seen several times on board. The quartermaster, a little, shrivelled man, extremely dirty, nodded to him as he passed.
Dr Macphail thought he was rather familiar, but he was a timid man and he did not take offence easily.
‘Yes, we’ve got a room upstairs.’
‘Miss Thompson was sailing with you to Apia, so I’ve brought her along here.’ The quartermaster pointed with his thumb to the woman standing by his side. She was twenty-seven perhaps, plump, and in a coarse fashion pretty. She wore a white dress and a large white hat. Her fat calves78 in white cotton stockings bulged79 over the tops of long white boots in glace kid. She gave Macphail an ingratiating smile.
‘The feller’s tryin’ to soak me a dollar and a half a day for the meanest-sized room,’ she said in a hoarse80 voice.
‘I tell you she’s a friend of mine, Jo,’ said the quartermaster. ‘She can’t pay more than a dollar, and you’ve sure got to take her for that.’
The trader was fat and smooth and quietly smiling.
‘Well, if you put it like that, Mr Swan, I’ll see what I can do about it. I’ll talk to Mrs Horn and if we think we can make a reduction we will.’
‘Don’t try to pull that stuff with me,’ said Miss Thompson. We’ll settle this right now You get a dollar a day for the room and not one bean more.’
Dr Macphail smiled. He admired the effrontery81 with which she bargained. He was the sort of man who always paid what he was asked. He preferred to be over-charged than to haggle82. The trader sighed.
‘Well, to oblige Mr Swan I’ll take it.’
‘That’s the goods,’ said Miss Thompson. ‘Come right in and have a shot of hooch. I’ve got some real good rye in that grip if you’ll bring it along, Mr Swan. You come along too, doctor.’
‘Oh, I don’t think I will, thank you,’ he answered.’ I’m just going down to see that our luggage is all right.’
He stepped out into the rain. It swept in from the opening of the harbour in sheets and the opposite shore was all blurred83. He passed two or three natives clad in nothing but the lava-lava, with huge umbrellas over them. They walked finely, with leisurely84 movements, very upright; and they smiled and greeted him in a strange tongue as they went by.
It was nearly dinner-time when he got back, and their meal was laid in the trader’s parlour. It was a room designed not to live in but for purposes of prestige, and it had a musty, melancholy85 air. A suite86 of stamped plush was arranged neatly round the walls, and from the middle of the ceiling, protected from the flies by yellow tissue-paper, hung a gilt87 chandelier. Davidson did not come.
‘I know he went to call on the governor,’ said Mrs Davidson, ‘and I guess he’s kept him to dinner.’
A little native girl brought them a dish of Hamburger steak, and after a while the trader came up to see that they had everything they wanted.
‘She’s taken a room, that’s all,’ answered the trader. ‘She’s getting her own board.’
He looked at the two ladies with an obsequious89 air.
‘I put her downstairs so she shouldn’t be in the way. She won’t be any trouble to you.’
‘Is it someone who was on the boat?’ asked Mrs Macphail.
‘Yes, ma’am, she was in the second cabin. She was going to Apia. She has a position as cashier waiting for her.’
‘Oh!’
When the trader was gone Macphail said:
‘I shouldn’t think she’d find it exactly cheerful having her meals in her room.’
‘If she was in the second cabin I guess she’d rather,’ answered Mrs Davidson. ‘I don’t exactly know who it can be.’
‘I happened to be there when the quartermaster brought her along. Her name’s Thompson.’
‘It’s not the woman who was dancing with the quartermaster last night?’ asked Mrs Davidson.
‘That’s who it must be,’ said Mrs Macphail. ‘I wondered at the time what she was. She looked rather fast to me.’
Not good style at all,’ said Mrs Davidson.
They began to talk of other things, and after dinner, tired with their early rise, they separated and slept. When they awoke, though the sky was still grey and the clouds hung low, it was not raining and they went for a walk on the high road which the Americans had built along the bay.
On their return they found that Davidson had just come in.
‘We may be here for a fortnight,’ he said irritably90. ‘I’ve argued it out with the governor, but he says there is nothing to be done.’
‘Mr Davidson’s just longing91 to get back to his work,’ said his wife, with an anxious glance at him.
‘We’ve been away for a year,’ he said, walking up and down the veranda69. ‘The mission has been in charge of native missionaries and I’m terribly nervous that they’ve let things slide. They’re good men, I’m not saying a word against them, God-fearing, devout92, and truly Christian50 men-their Christianity would put many so-called Christians93 at home to the blush-but they’re pitifully lacking in energy. They can make a stand once, they can make a stand twice, but they can’t make a stand all the time. If you leave a mission in charge of a native missionary, no matter how trustworthy he seems, in course of time you’ll find he’s let abuses creep in.’
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1
freckled
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| 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 ) | |
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pedantic
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| adj.卖弄学问的；迂腐的 | |
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3
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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missionaries
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| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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5
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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8
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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bug
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| n.虫子；故障；窃听器；vt.纠缠；装窃听器 | |
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12
Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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13
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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14
conducive
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| adj.有益的，有助的 | |
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15
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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16
coconut
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| n.椰子 | |
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17
dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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18
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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20
volcanic
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| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
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21
facetiously
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| adv.爱开玩笑地；滑稽地，爱开玩笑地 | |
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22
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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23
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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24
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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25
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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unctuous
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| adj.油腔滑调的，大胆的 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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29
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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30
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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32
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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34
averse
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| adj.厌恶的；反对的，不乐意的 | |
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35
immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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36
immorality
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| n. 不道德, 无道义 | |
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37
bungalows
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| n.平房( bungalow的名词复数 )；单层小屋，多于一层的小屋 | |
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38
quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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39
warehouses
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| 仓库，货栈( warehouse的名词复数 ) | |
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40
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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41
schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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42
moored
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| adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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43
barter
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| n.物物交换，以货易货，实物交易 | |
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44
torpid
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| adj.麻痹的，麻木的，迟钝的 | |
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45
ulcers
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| n.溃疡( ulcer的名词复数 )；腐烂物；道德败坏；腐败 | |
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46
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
itched
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| v.发痒( itch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
eradicated
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| 画着根的 | |
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49
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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50
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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51
corrugated
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| adj.波纹的；缩成皱纹的；波纹面的；波纹状的v.（使某物）起皱褶(corrugate的过去式和过去分词) | |
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52
torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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53
sociability
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| n.好交际，社交性，善于交际 | |
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54
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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55
morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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56
jointed
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| 有接缝的 | |
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57
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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58
sockets
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| n.套接字，使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 )；孔( socket的名词复数 )；（电器上的）插口；托座；凹穴 | |
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59
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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60
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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61
epidemic
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| n.流行病；盛行；adj.流行性的，流传极广的 | |
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62
measles
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| n.麻疹，风疹，包虫病，痧子 | |
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63
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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64
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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65
waterproof
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| n.防水材料；adj.防水的；v.使...能防水 | |
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66
waterproofs
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| n.防水衣物，雨衣 usually plural( waterproof的名词复数 )v.使防水，使不透水( waterproof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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67
dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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68
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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69
veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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70
verandas
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| 阳台，走廊( veranda的名词复数 ) | |
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71
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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72
unpack
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| vt.打开包裹（或行李），卸货 | |
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73
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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74
extremities
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| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
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75
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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76
unpacking
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| n.取出货物，拆包[箱]v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的现在分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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77
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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78
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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79
bulged
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| 凸出( bulge的过去式和过去分词 )； 充满； 塞满（某物） | |
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80
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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81
effrontery
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| n.厚颜无耻 | |
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82
haggle
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| vi.讨价还价，争论不休 | |
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83
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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84
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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85
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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86
suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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87
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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88
lodger
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| n.寄宿人，房客 | |
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89
obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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90
irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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91
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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92
devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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93
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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94
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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95
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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