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(单词翻译:双击或拖选)
“Isn’t this nice?” Luke asked, apparently1 not upset at her lack ofenthusiasm.
“Just turn a key and press a button on the dashboardand the car starts. No cranking a handle, no hoping the darneddonk catches before a man’s exhausted2. This is the life, Meghann,no doubt about it.”
“You won’t leave me alone, will you?” she asked.
“Good Lord, no! You’ve come with me, haven’t you? That meansyou’re mine all night long, and I don’t intend giving anyone elsea chance.”
“How old are you, Luke?”“Thirty. How old are you?”
“Almost twenty-three.”“As much as that, eh? You look like a baby.”
“I’m not a baby.”“Oho! Have you ever been in love, then?”
“Once.”
“Is that all? At twenty-three? Good Lord! I’d been in and out oflove a dozen times by your age.”
“I daresay I might have been, too, but I meet very few people to fall in love with on Drogheda. You’re the firststockman I remember who said more than a shy hello.” “Well, if you won’t go to dances because you can’t dance, you’reon the outside looking in right there, aren’t you? Never mind, we’llfix that up in no time. By the end of the evening you’ll be dancing,and in a few weeks we’ll have you a champion.” He glanced at herquickly.
“But you can’t tell me some of the squatters off other stationshaven’t tried to get you to come to the odd dance with them.Stockmen I can understand, you’re a cut above the usual stockman’sinclinations, but some of the sheep cockies must have given youthe glad eye.”
“If I’m a cut above stockmen, why did you ask me?” she parried.
“Oh, I’ve got all the cheek in the world.” He grinned.
“Come onnow, don’t change the subject. There must be a few blokes aroundGilly who’ve asked.”
“A few,” she admitted.
“But I’ve really never wanted to go. Youpushed me into it.”
“Then the rest of them are sillier than pet snakes,” he said.
“Iknow a good thing when I see it.”She wasn’t too sure that she cared for the way he talked, but thetrouble with Luke was that he was a hard man to put down.Everyone came to a woolshed dance, from squatters’ sons anddaughters to stockmen and their wives if any, maidservants, governesses,town dwellers4 of all ages and sexes. For instance, thesewere occasions when female schoolteachers got the opportunity tofraternize with the stock-and-station-agent apprentices5, the bankjohnnies and the real bushies off the stations.The grand manners reserved for more formal affairs were not inevidence at all. Old Mickey O’Brien came out from Gilly to playthe fiddle6, and there was always someone on hand to man the pianoaccordion or the button accordion7, taking turns to spell each otheras Mickey’s accompanists while the old violinist sat on a barrel or awool bale for hours playing without a rest, his pendulous8 lowerlip drooling because he had no patience with swallowing; it interferedwith his tempo9.
But it was not the sort of dancing Meggie had seen at MaryCarson’s birthday party. This was energetic round-dancing: barndances, jigs10, polkas, quadrilles, reels, mazurkas, Sir Roger de Coverleys,with no more than a passing touching11 of the partner’s hands,or a wild swirling12 in rough arms. There was no sense of intimacy,no dreaminess. Everyone seemed to view the proceedings13 as asimple dissipation of frustrations14; romantic intrigues15 were furtheredbetter outside, well away from the noise and bustle16.Meggie soon discovered she was much envied her big handsomeescort. He was the target of almost as many seductive or languishinglooks as Father Ralph used to be, and more blatantly17 so. As FatherRalph used to be. Used to be.
How terrible to have to think of himin the very remotest of all past tenses.True to his word, Luke left her alone only so long as it took himto visit the Men’s. Enoch Davies and Liam O’Rourke were there,and eager to fill his place alongside her. He gave them no opportunitywhatsoever, and Meggie herself seemed too dazed to understandthat she was quite within her rights to accept invitations todance from men other than her escort. Though she didn’t hear thecomments, Luke did, secretly laughing. What a damned cheek thefellow had, an ordinary stockman, stealing her from under theirnoses! Disapproval18 meant nothing to Luke. They had had theirchances; if they hadn’t made the most of them, hard luck.The last dance was a waltz. Luke took Meggie’s hand and puthis arm about her waist, drew her against him. He was an excellentdancer. To her surprise she found she didn’t need to do anythingmore than follow where he propelled her. And it was a most extraordinarysensation to be held so against a man, to feel the muscles of his chest andthighs, to absorb his body warmth. Her brief contacts with FatherRalph had been so intense she had not had time to perceive discretethings, and she had honestly thought that what she felt in his armsshe would never feel in anyone else’s.
Yet though this was quitedifferent, it was exciting; her pulse rate had gone up, and she knewhe sensed it by the way he turned her suddenly, gripped her moreclosely, put his cheek on her hair.As the Rolls purred home, making light of the bumpy19 track andsometimes no track at all, they didn’t speak very much. BraichyPwll was seventy miles from Drogheda, across paddocks withnever a house to be seen all the way, no lights of someone’s home,no intrusion of humanity. The ridge20 which cut across Droghedawas not more than a hundred feet higher than the rest of the land,but out on the black-soil plains to reach the crest21 of it was like beingon top of an Alp to a Swiss. Luke stopped the car, got out andcame round to open Meggie’s door. She stepped down beside him,trembling a little; was he going to spoil everything by trying to kissher? It was so quiet, so far from anyone!
There was a decaying dogleg wooden fence wandering off to oneside, and holding her elbow lightly to make sure she didn’t stumblein her frivolous22 shoes, Luke helped Meggie across the unevenground, the rabbit holes. Gripping the fence tightly and lookingout over the plains, she was speechless; first from terror, then, herpanic dying as he made no move to touch her, from wonder.Almost as clearly as the sun could, the moon’s still pale lightpicked out vast sweeping23 stretches of distance, the grass shimmeringand rippling24 like a restless sigh, silver and white and grey. Leaveson trees sparkled suddenly like points of fire when the wind turnedtheir glossy25 tops upward, and great yawning gulfs of shadowsspread under timber stands as mysteriously as mouths of the underworld.
Lifting her head, she tried to count thestars and could not; as delicate as drops of dew on a wheelingspider’s web the pinpoints26 flared27, went out, flared, went out, in arhythm as timeless as God. They seemed to hang over her like anet, so beautiful, so very silent, so watchful28 and searching of thesoul, like jewel eyes of insects turned brilliant in a spotlight29, blindas to expression and infinite as to seeing power. The only soundswere the wind hot in the grass, hissing30 trees, an occasional clankfrom the cooling Rolls, and a sleepy bird somewhere close complainingbecause they had broken its rest; the sole smell the fragrant,indefinable scent31 of the bush.Luke turned his back on the night, pulled out his tobacco pouchand booklet of rice papers, and began to roll himself a cigarette.
“Were you born out here, Meghann?” he asked, rubbing thestrands of leaf back and forth32 in his palm, lazily.
“No, I was born in New Zealand. We came to Drogheda thirteenyears ago.”He slipped the shaped tendrils into their paper sheath, twiddledit expertly between thumb and forefinger33, then licked it shut, pokeda few wisps back inside the tube with a match end, struck the matchand lit up.
“You enjoyed yourself tonight, didn’t you?”
“Oh, yes!”
“I’d like to take you to all the dances.”
“Thank you.”He fell silent again, smoking quietly and looking back across theroof of the Rolls at the stand of timber where the irate34 bird stilltwittered querulously. When only a small remnant of the tubesputtered between his stained fingers he dropped it on the groundand screwed his boot heel viciously down upon it until he was sureit was out. No one kills a cigarette as dead as an Australian bushman. Sighing, Meggie turned from the moon vista35, and he helped herto the car. He was far too wise to kiss her at this early stage, becausehe intended to marry her if he could; let her want to be kissed, first.But there were other dances, as the summer wore on and woreitself down in bloody36, dusty splendor37; gradually the homestead gotused to the fact that Meggie had found herself a very good-lookingboyfriend. Her brothers forbore to tease, for they loved her andliked him well enough. Luke O’Neill was the hardest worker theyhad ever employed; no better recommendation than that existed.At heart more working class than squatter3 class, it never occurredto the Cleary men to judge him by his lack of possessions.
Fee,who might have weighed him in a more selective balance, didn’tcare sufficiently38 to do so. Anyway, Luke’s calm assumption that hewas different from your average stockman bore fruit; because of it,he was treated more like one of themselves.It became his custom to call up the track at the big house whenhe was in at night and not out in the paddocks; after a while Bobdeclared it was silly for him to eat alone when there was plenty onthe Cleary table, so he ate with them. After that it seemed rathersenseless to send him a mile down the track to sleep when he wasnice enough to want to stay talking to Meggie until late, so he wasbidden to move into one of the small guesthouses out behind thebig house.By this time Meggie thought about him a great deal, and not asdisparagingly as she had at first, always comparing him to FatherRalph. The old sore was healing. After a while she forgot thatFather Ralph had smiled so with the same mouth, while Luke smiledthus, that Father Ralph’s vivid blue eyes had had a distant stillnessto them while Luke’s glittered with restless passion.
She was youngand she had never quite got to savor39 love, if for a moment or twoshe had tasted it. She wanted to roll it round on her tongue, getthe bouquet40 of it into her lungs, spin it dizzying to her brain. Father Ralph wasBishop Ralph; he would never, never come back to her. He hadsold her for thirteen million pieces of silver, and it rankled41. If hehadn’t used the phrase that night by the borehead she would nothave wondered, but he had used it, and countless42 were the nightssince when she had lain puzzling as to what he could possibly havemeant.And her hands itched43 with the feel of Luke’s back when he heldher close in a dance; she was stirred by him, his touch, his crispvitality. Oh, she never felt that dark liquid fire in her bones for him,she never thought that if she didn’t see him again she would witherand dry up, she never twitched44 and trembled because he looked ather.
But she had grown to know men like Enoch Davies, LiamO’Rourke, Alastair MacQueen better as Luke squired her to moreand more of the district affairs, and none of them moved her theway Luke O’Neill did. If they were tall enough to oblige her to lookup, they would turn out not to have Luke’s eyes, or if they had thesame sort of eyes, they wouldn’t have his hair. Something was alwayslacking which wasn’t lacking in Luke, though just what it wasLuke possessed45 she didn’t know. Aside from the fact that he remindedher of Father Ralph, that is, and she refused to admit herattraction had no better basis than that.
They talked a lot, but always about general things; shearing46, theland, the sheep, or what he wanted out of life, or perhaps aboutthe places he had seen, or some political happening. He read anoccasional book but he wasn’t an inveterate47 reader like Meggie,and try as she would, she couldn’t seem to persuade him to readthis or that book simply because she had found it interesting. Nordid he lead the conversation into intellectual depths; most interestingand irritating of all, he never evinced any interest in her life, orasked her what she wanted from it. Sometimes she longed to talkabout matters far closer to her heart than sheep or rain, but if she made a leading statement he was expert at deflecting48 her intomore impersonal49 channels.Luke O’Neill was clever, conceited50, extremely hardworking andhungry to enrich himself. He had been born in a wattle-and-daubshanty exactly on the Tropic of Capricorn, outside the town ofLongreach in Western Queensland. His father was the black sheepof a prosperous but unforgiving Irish family, his mother was thedaughter of the German butcher in Winton; when she insisted onmarrying Luke senior, she also was disowned.
"这样不好吗？"卢克问道，显然，他并没有因为她缺乏主动性而感到烦恼。"只要把钥匙一转，把仪表板上的按钮一按，车就开了。在一个人筋疲力竭之前。是既不想捞个头衔，也不希望得到那该死而又愚蠢的利益的。这就是生活，梅格翰，这是毫无疑义的。"
"你不会把我一个人丢一下的。是吗？"
"老天爷呀，不会的！你是跟我一起来的，对吧？这就是说，今天这一夜你就是我的，我不打算让任何人得到机会。"
"你多大了，卢克？"
"30。你多大了？"
"快23了。"
"有这么大呢？你看起来就象个孩子。"
"我不是孩子了。"
"嚯！那么，你谈起恋爱吗？"
"一次"
"就这么多啊？在23岁的时候？老天爷呀！我象你这多大的时候，已经出入情场十几次啦。"
"我敢说，我本来也会这样的，可是在德罗海达我很少遇上可以谈谈恋爱的人。在我的记忆里，你是头一个见面不仅仅是羞羞答答说一声'哈罗'的牧工。"
"唔，假如你是因为不会跳舞才不愿意去跳舞的话，那你只是站在圈外往里看了，对吗？没关系，我们很快就会解决这个问题的。今天晚上结束的时候，你就会跳了，几个星期之后，我们就会把你当作第一流好手的。"他迅速地瞟了她一眼。"不过，你不会对我说，其他牧场的那些牧场主没有试图让你和他们去参加他们那些奇特的舞会吧。我能了解那些牧工们，你的地位要比那些普通牧工高一等，可是，有些牧场主一定向你送过秋波吧？"
"要是我比牧工们高一等的话，你干嘛邀请我呢？"她避而不答。
"噢，我闯遍了全世界，"他露出牙齿一笑。"喂，别改变话题呀。基里周围一定有几个邀请过你的家伙。"
"有几个，"她承认了。"不地我的确一点儿也不想去。你是把我强拉来的。"
"这么说，其余的人比这些可爱的阿飞要傻喽。"他说。"当我明了这个情况的时候，我就有好主意了。"
她不敢十分肯定她是否喜欢他这种说话的方式，但是，和卢克在一起的麻烦是，他是个从不让步的倔汉子。
人人都会参加剪羊棚舞会的。从牧场主的儿子、女儿到牧工和他们的妻子--假如他们有的话；从女仆到保姆，以及各种年龄男女城镇居民，举例来说吧，当女教师们要找机会与牲畜及牧场代理商的徒工、银行的纫绔子弟和不属于牧场的真正的丛林居民亲热一番的时候，这种舞会就给她们提供了方便。
适合于正式场合的彬彬举止在这里根本就见不到。老米基·奥布赖恩从基里赶来拉小提琴。拉键盘手风琴和按钮手风琴的人旁边总是有一些人在互相轮流替换着。他们给老米基伴奏。与此同时，这位老提琴师则坐在一只桶上或羊毛包上，一口气拉上几个钟头。他那垂下来的下唇在流着口水，因为他不耐烦去嗯口水，这有碍于他的音乐速度。
但是，这里的舞不是梅吉在玛丽·卡森生日宴会上看到的那种舞。这是一种生气勃勃的圆圈舞：谷仓舞、快步舞。波尔卡、瓜德利尔德①、苏格兰双人舞、玛祖卡舞②和罗杰·德·科弗利斯舜士舞--这种舞不过就是匆匆地拍一下舞伴的双手。或随随便便地挽着胳臂发疯似地转圈儿。这里谈不上什么过分亲密，也没有什么轻柔曼雅。每个人似乎都把各种举动当作是求欢不成后的胡闹；浪漫的私通都远远地跑到外面去了，远离了这片嘈杂和喧闹声。
①一种旧式的四对舞。--译注
②一种轻快活泼的波兰舞。--译注
没过多久，梅吉就发现自己大大地羡慕起自己那位英俊的同伴来了。许多挑逗性的或含情脉脉的目光几乎都集中在他的身上，就象以前对拉尔夫神父那样，而且过之而无不及。就象以前拉尔夫神父那样。就象以前那样。不得不用这种极其疏远的过去时态来想他，真是太可怕了。
卢克是说话算数的，只是在他去上厕所的时候，才让她单独呆着。伊诺克·戴维斯和利亚姆·奥罗克也在这里，他们心急火燎地想去填补他在她身边的那个位置。他没有给他们任何机会。梅吉自己好象眼花缭乱了，没有想到除了他以外，接受其他男人的邀请完全是她的权利。尽管她没有听见那些窃窃嘲讽的评论，可是卢克听见了。这家伙真是死不要脸，一个普普通的牧工，居然在他们的鼻子底下把她勾到手了！卢克根本不在乎这些愤懑非难。他们曾经备有机会，要是他们没尽力地利用这些机会的话，活该他们倒霉。
最后一个舞是华尔滋。卢克抓起梅吉的手，胳臂搂着她的腰，把她贴在自己的身上。他是个出色的舞伴。她发现她无需多费力气，只要按照他推动的方向出步就行了，这位她十分惊讶。而且，这样被搂着，紧贴着一个男人，能感到他胸部和大腿的肌肉，吸收着他身体的温暖，使她有一种非同一般的感觉。和拉尔夫神父那次短暂的接角，给她的印象如此强烈，以至她来不及去领略那些支离的东西；而且她天真地认为，她在拉尔夫怀抱里所领略到的东西，永远不会再从其他人那里领略到了。然而，尽管这次的感觉颇有些异样，但这是激动；她的心跳加快，并且，从他突然带着她旋转，把她搂得更紧，将自己的脸颊贴着她头发的那股劲头，她明白他也察觉到了这一点。
罗尔斯汽车引擎低沉地轰响往家里开去，大灯照亮了崎岖的道路，使足上的一切都看得清洁楚楚。他们没说什么话。布雷恩·伊·普尔离德罗海达70英里，穿过几个围场，一路上既看不到一幢房子，也看不到人家的灯光，阒无人踪。横越德罗海达的高地只比其他的地面高出100英尺，但是，在黑壤平原上登上空的顶部，就象在瑞士登上了高山的顶巅一样。卢克停住了汽车，走了下来，绕过汽车，打开了梅吉身旁的车门。她走下了汽车。站在他的身旁，有点儿发抖；他是想不顾一切地吻她吗？这里非常安静，离任何人都很远！
在他们的一则，有一道蜿蜒而去的朽木栅栏。卢克轻轻地扶着她的胳臂时，怕她穿着那及时髦的鞋会绊倒，他帮着她走遇了那片低尘不平的地面，躲过地上的兔子洞。她一言不发地紧紧抓着那栏杆，眺望着平原大地。起先，她感到恐惧，后来，由于他一动不动，不去碰她，她也就不再慌乱，而是迷惑不解了。
几乎就象在阳光下那样，一切都看得一清二楚。静谧、清淡的月光照出了广阔无垠、一览无余的远方。微光扑朔的草地发出了一片低低的沙沙声，象是不肯停歇的低回浩叹。草原上闪动着一派银色、白色、灰色。当风向上吹动披着月光的树冠时，那片片树叶倏忽一闪，宛如点点火星；树林在地面投下了夹着无数光斑和黑黝黝的阴影，神秘莫测，就象地狱中张开了张多嘴。她抬起头来，想数一数天上的星星，可是怎么也数不清；星空恰似一片转动的蛛网上结满了细密的露珠，这些小点在一闪一灭，一闪一灭；这节奏井然的闪动就象永恒的上帝一样，万却不变地闪着。它们好象结成了一张网，高悬在她的头顶上，如此美丽动人，如此宁温寂静，洞悉一切地探究着人们的灵魂。星光一闪，就象昆虫那宝石般的眼睛在聚光灯下那样，变得晶莹剔透；星光一灭，就象有表情似地合上了眼睛，阑干星头，具有震魄惊心的力量。唯一的声响，就是草原上的热风树林的飒飒响声，熄了火的罗尔斯偶或发出的铿锵声，和一窝入睡的飞鸟从某具地方发出的抱怨声--因为他们打扰了它的休息；唯一的气味就是矮树丛发出的馥郁的杂香。
卢克在黑暗中转身抽出了他的烟荷包和一叠卷烟纸，开始卷烟。
"梅格翰，你是在这里出生的？"他问道，后掌懒洋洋地来回搓着几根烟叶。
"不是，我生在新西兰。是13年前到德罗海达来的。"
他把弄好的烟末倒进了纸筒里，在拇指和食指之间捻着，随后将它舔好，把点火那一头露出来的几根烟丝往里捅了捅，划着了火柴，点燃了烟卷。
"你今天晚上很快活，是吗？"
"哦，是的！"
"我愿意带你去参加所有的舞会。"
"谢谢你。"
他又沉默了，静静地抽着烟。他回头过去，越过罗尔斯的车顶望那片树林，那只愤怒的鸟依然在依然在抱怨地叽员喳喳叫个不休。当她手指间那支哗剥作响的烟只剩下一个烟头时，他将它扔到了地上，一直等到它燃尽，没有人象澳大利亚丛林居民那样把烟抽得这么干净。
梅吉叹了一口气，从那片月景中转过身来。他扶着她向汽车走去。他十分明智，不会在这种开始阶段吻她的，因为他打算，如果可能的话就要她，让她先起吻他的念头吧。
夏季一天天地过去了，这里又举行了几次舞会；大宅的人对梅吉自己找了一个极漂亮的男朋友也逐渐习惯了。她的哥哥们避免拿她取笑，因为他们爱她，也很喜欢她。卢克·奥尼尔是他们雇用过的最能吃苦耐劳的工人；没有比事实更好的证明了。在本质上，克利里家的男人与其说是属于牧场主阶级，倒不如说是属于劳动者阶级；他们从来没有从他没财产这一点来看他这个人。菲也许已经对他做过更多的选择与权衡，便她没有精力更多地关心这件事。不管怎么样，卢克那沉静的自负所产生和效果，使他显得和一般的牧工不一样：因为正这样，他们更象对待自己人那样对待他。
在晚上，以及他不去围场的时候，便在大宅的道路上出出进进，这已成为他的习惯了。过了不久，鲍勃宣称，这么多人都围在克利里家的饭桌上吃饭，如果让他独自在一边吃饭是愚蠢的。于是，他便和他们一起吃饭了。此后，当他很想留下和梅吉长谈的时候，却要让他走一英里路去睡觉，这是不明智的；于是，便吩咐地搬进了大宅后面的一间客房。
到这里，梅吉对他已是朝思暮想，不是象一开始时那样瞧不起他，总是拿他来和拉尔夫神父相比了。旧日的伤痕已经愈合。不久之后，什么拉尔夫神父的嘴是那样笑，而卢克是这样笑，什么拉尔夫神父那生动的蓝眼睛有一种淡漠的沉静，而卢克的眼睛总是不停地闪耀着激情之类的想法，她已经忘得一干二净。她年纪轻轻，从未尝过饶有趣味的爱情；如果说她曾经尝过，那也是片刻而已。她想细品满口爱情的清香，让这清香沁透脾腑，使她的头脑为之晕眩。拉尔夫神父已经成了拉尔夫主教；他永远，永远也不会回到她的身边了。他以一千三百万银币把她出卖了，这使人满腹怨恨。要是在矿泉边上的那天夜里他没用过"出卖"这个词的语，她不会感到迷惑不解的；可是他用了这个词，为了猜透他的意思，她曾冥思苦想了无数个夜晚。
一次舞会上，在他紧抱着她的时候，她感到挨着他后背的手痒酥酥的，她的心被他、他的触感和勃勃生气搅乱了。哦，她从来没想到过，倘使她再也见不到他，她会感到迷惘和枯竭；她从来没感到过心灵的抽搐和颤抖，因为他在望着她。但是，当卢克殷勤地护卫着她，越来越多地参加本地区的各种活动的时候，她就更了解伊诺克·戴维斯·利亚姆·奥罗克和阿拉斯尔·麦克奎恩这样的人了。他们这些人都不能象卢克·奥尼尔那样使她动心。要是说他们个头儿很高，她须仰视才见的话，可他们都没有卢克那样的眼睛：要是说他们有和他一样的眼睛的话，却没有他那样的头发。他们总是缺点儿这个、短点儿那个，而卢克却什么都不缺，尽管她也不明白卢克到底拥有什么。除了他曾使她回想起拉尔夫神父之外，她也承认在他的身上还有别的东西能吸引她。
他们谈了许多话，但总不外乎是那些平平凡凡的事；什么剪羊毛啦，土地啦，绵羊啦，或者他生活中还缺少什么啦，要么就是他所见过的地方或某个政治事件。他偶尔读读书，但不象梅吉那样是个有读书积习的人，也不打算象她所希望的那样去看书；她似乎也无法轻而易举地劝他去看她觉得有意思的这本书或那本书。他既不把谈话往有知识深度的方面引，也从不对她的生活表现出什么兴趣，或问一问她生活中缺少什么；这是最叫人感兴趣的，也是最叫人苦恼的。有时候，她渴望谈一些比绵羊或雨水更叫她关心的事，可她刚把话题往这上面引，他就熟练地把话题转到与个人生活无关的事上去了。
卢克·奥尼尔聪明、自负，极能吃苦耐劳，并且能勒紧肚皮攒钱。他出生在恰好处于南回归线上的南昆士兰州郎里奇城外的一个肮脏的、篱笆条围成的板棚里。他父亲出身于一个境况优裕，但家规甚严的爱尔兰家族，便他却是个败家子。他母亲是温顿一个德国屠夫家的碧玉；她执意要嫁给老卢克，因此便和家庭脱离了关系。
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1
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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squatter
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| n.擅自占地者 | |
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dwellers
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| n.居民，居住者( dweller的名词复数 ) | |
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apprentices
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| 学徒，徒弟( apprentice的名词复数 ) | |
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fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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accordion
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| n.手风琴；adj.可折叠的 | |
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pendulous
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| adj.下垂的；摆动的 | |
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tempo
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| n.(音乐的)速度；节奏，行进速度 | |
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jigs
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| n.快步舞（曲）极快地( jig的名词复数 )；夹具v.（使）上下急动( jig的第三人称单数 ) | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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frustrations
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| 挫折( frustration的名词复数 )； 失败； 挫败； 失意 | |
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intrigues
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| n.密谋策划( intrigue的名词复数 )；神秘气氛；引人入胜的复杂情节v.搞阴谋诡计( intrigue的第三人称单数 )；激起…的好奇心 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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blatantly
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| ad.公开地 | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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bumpy
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| adj.颠簸不平的，崎岖的 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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pinpoints
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| 准确地找出或描述( pinpoint的第三人称单数 )； 为…准确定位 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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spotlight
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| n.公众注意的中心，聚光灯，探照灯，视听，注意，醒目 | |
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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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irate
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| adj.发怒的，生气 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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savor
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| vt.品尝，欣赏；n.味道，风味；情趣，趣味 | |
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bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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rankled
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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itched
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| v.发痒( itch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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46
shearing
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| n.剪羊毛，剪取的羊毛v.剪羊毛( shear的现在分词 )；切断；剪切 | |
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inveterate
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| adj.积习已深的，根深蒂固的 | |
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48
deflecting
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| （使）偏斜， （使）偏离， （使）转向( deflect的现在分词 ) | |
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49
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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