【英文短篇小说】The Beggar
时间:2019-01-23 作者:英语课 分类:英文短篇小说
英语课
KIND sir, be so good as to notice a poor, hungry man. I have not tasted food for three days. I have not a five-kopeck piece for a night’s lodging 1. I swear by God! For five years I was a village schoolmaster and lost my post through the intrigues 2 of the Zemstvo. I was the victim of false witness. I have been out of a place for a year now.”
Skvortsov, a Petersburg lawyer, looked at the speaker’s tattered 3 dark blue overcoat, at his muddy, drunken eyes, at the red patches on his cheeks, and it seemed to him that he had seen the man before.
“And now I am offered a post in the Kaluga province,” the beggar continued, “but I have not the means for the journey there. Graciously help me! I am ashamed to ask, but . . . I am compelled by circumstances.”
Skvortsov looked at his goloshes, of which one was shallow like a shoe, while the other came high up the leg like a boot, and suddenly remembered.
“Listen, the day before yesterday I met you in Sadovoy Street,” he said, “and then you told me, not that you were a village schoolmaster, but that you were a student who had been expelled. Do you remember?”
“N-o. No, that cannot be so!” the beggar muttered in confusion. “I am a village schoolmaster, and if you wish it I can show you documents to prove it.”
“That’s enough lies! You called yourself a student, and even told me what you were expelled for. Do you remember?”
Skvortsov flushed, and with a look of disgust on his face turned away from the ragged 4 figure.
“It’s contemptible 5, sir!” he cried angrily. “It’s a swindle! I’ll hand you over to the police, damn you! You are poor and hungry, but that does not give you the right to lie so shamelessly!”
The ragged figure took hold of the door-handle and, like a bird in a snare 6, looked round the hall desperately 7.
“I . . . I am not lying,” he muttered. “I can show documents.”
“Who can believe you?” Skvortsov went on, still indignant. “To exploit the sympathy of the public for village schoolmasters and students — it’s so low, so mean, so dirty! It’s revolting!”
Skvortsov flew into a rage and gave the beggar a merciless scolding. The ragged fellow’s insolent 8 lying aroused his disgust and aversion, was an offence against what he, Skvortsov, loved and prized in himself: kindliness 9, a feeling heart, sympathy for the unhappy. By his lying, by his treacherous 10 assault upon compassion 11, the individual had, as it were, defiled 12 the charity which he liked to give to the poor with no misgivings 13 in his heart. The beggar at first defended himself, protested with oaths, then he sank into silence and hung his head, overcome with shame.
“Sir!” he said, laying his hand on his heart, “I really was . . . lying! I am not a student and not a village schoolmaster. All that’s mere 14 invention! I used to be in the Russian choir 15, and I was turned out of it for drunkenness. But what can I do? Believe me, in God’s name, I can’t get on without lying — when I tell the truth no one will give me anything. With the truth one may die of hunger and freeze without a night’s lodging! What you say is true, I understand that, but . . . what am I to do?”
“What are you to do? You ask what are you to do?” cried Skvortsov, going close up to him. “Work — that’s what you must do! You must work!”
“Work. . . . I know that myself, but where can I get work?”
“Nonsense. You are young, strong, and healthy, and could always find work if you wanted to. But you know you are lazy, pampered 16, drunken! You reek 17 of vodka like a pothouse! You have become false and corrupt 18 to the marrow 19 of your bones and fit for nothing but begging and lying! If you do graciously condescend 20 to take work, you must have a job in an office, in the Russian choir, or as a billiard-marker, where you will have a salary and have nothing to do! But how would you like to undertake manual labour? I’ll be bound, you wouldn’t be a house porter or a factory hand! You are too genteel for that!”
“What things you say, really . . .” said the beggar, and he gave a bitter smile. “How can I get manual work? It’s rather late for me to be a shopman, for in trade one has to begin from a boy; no one would take me as a house porter, because I am not of that class . . . . And I could not get work in a factory; one must know a trade, and I know nothing.”
“Nonsense! You always find some justification 21! Wouldn’t you like to chop wood?”
“I would not refuse to, but the regular woodchoppers are out of work now.”
“Oh, all idlers argue like that! As soon as you are offered anything you refuse it. Would you care to chop wood for me?”
“Certainly I will. . .”
“Very good, we shall see. . . . Excellent. We’ll see!” Skvortsov, in nervous haste; and not without malignant 22 pleasure, rubbing his hands, summoned his cook from the kitchen.
“Here, Olga,” he said to her, “take this gentleman to the shed and let him chop some wood.”
The beggar shrugged 23 his shoulders as though puzzled, and irresolutely 24 followed the cook. It was evident from his demeanour that he had consented to go and chop wood, not because he was hungry and wanted to earn money, but simply from shame and amour propre, because he had been taken at his word. It was clear, too, that he was suffering from the effects of vodka, that he was unwell, and felt not the faintest inclination 25 to work.
Skvortsov hurried into the dining-room. There from the window which looked out into the yard he could see the woodshed and everything that happened in the yard. Standing 26 at the window, Skvortsov saw the cook and the beggar come by the back way into the yard and go through the muddy snow to the woodshed. Olga scrutinized 27 her companion angrily, and jerking her elbow unlocked the woodshed and angrily banged the door open.
“Most likely we interrupted the woman drinking her coffee,” thought Skvortsov. “What a cross creature she is!”
Then he saw the pseudo-schoolmaster and pseudo-student seat himself on a block of wood, and, leaning his red cheeks upon his fists, sink into thought. The cook flung an axe 28 at his feet, spat 29 angrily on the ground, and, judging by the expression of her lips, began abusing him. The beggar drew a log of wood towards him irresolutely, set it up between his feet, and diffidently drew the axe across it. The log toppled and fell over. The beggar drew it towards him, breathed on his frozen hands, and again drew the axe along it as cautiously as though he were afraid of its hitting his golosh or chopping off his fingers. The log fell over again.
Skvortsov’s wrath 30 had passed off by now, he felt sore and ashamed at the thought that he had forced a pampered, drunken, and perhaps sick man to do hard, rough work in the cold.
“Never mind, let him go on . . .” he thought, going from the dining-room into his study. “I am doing it for his good!”
An hour later Olga appeared and announced that the wood had been chopped up.
“Here, give him half a rouble,” said Skvortsov. “If he likes, let him come and chop wood on the first of every month. . . . There will always be work for him.”
On the first of the month the beggar turned up and again earned half a rouble, though he could hardly stand. From that time forward he took to turning up frequently, and work was always found for him: sometimes he would sweep the snow into heaps, or clear up the shed, at another he used to beat the rugs and the mattresses 31. He always received thirty to forty kopecks for his work, and on one occasion an old pair of trousers was sent out to him.
When he moved, Skvortsov engaged him to assist in packing and moving the furniture. On this occasion the beggar was sober, gloomy, and silent; he scarcely touched the furniture, walked with hanging head behind the furniture vans, and did not even try to appear busy; he merely shivered with the cold, and was overcome with confusion when the men with the vans laughed at his idleness, feebleness, and ragged coat that had once been a gentleman’s. After the removal Skvortsov sent for him.
“Well, I see my words have had an effect upon you,” he said, giving him a rouble. “This is for your work. I see that you are sober and not disinclined to work. What is your name?”
“Lushkov.”
“I can offer you better work, not so rough, Lushkov. Can you write?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then go with this note tomorrow to my colleague and he will give you some copying to do. Work, don’t drink, and don’t forget what I said to you. Good-bye.”
Skvortsov, pleased that he had put a man in the path of rectitude, patted Lushkov genially 32 on the shoulder, and even shook hands with him at parting.
Lushkov took the letter, departed, and from that time forward did not come to the back-yard for work.
Two years passed. One day as Skvortsov was standing at the ticket-office of a theatre, paying for his ticket, he saw beside him a little man with a lambskin collar and a shabby cat’s-skin cap. The man timidly asked the clerk for a gallery ticket and paid for it with kopecks.
“Lushkov, is it you?” asked Skvortsov, recognizing in the little man his former woodchopper. “Well, what are you doing? Are you getting on all right?”
“Pretty well. . . . I am in a notary’s office now. I earn thirty-five roubles.”
“Well, thank God, that’s capital. I rejoice for you. I am very, very glad, Lushkov. You know, in a way, you are my godson. It was I who shoved you into the right way. Do you remember what a scolding I gave you, eh? You almost sank through the floor that time. Well, thank you, my dear fellow, for remembering my words.”
“Thank you too,” said Lushkov. “If I had not come to you that day, maybe I should be calling myself a schoolmaster or a student still. Yes, in your house I was saved, and climbed out of the pit.”
“I am very, very glad.”
“Thank you for your kind words and deeds. What you said that day was excellent. I am grateful to you and to your cook, God bless that kind, noble-hearted woman. What you said that day was excellent; I am indebted to you as long as I live, of course, but it was your cook, Olga, who really saved me.”
“How was that?”
“Why, it was like this. I used to come to you to chop wood and she would begin: ‘Ah, you drunkard! You God-forsaken man! And yet death does not take you!’ and then she would sit opposite me, lamenting 33, looking into my face and wailing 34: ‘You unlucky fellow! You have no gladness in this world, and in the next you will burn in hell, poor drunkard! You poor sorrowful creature!’ and she always went on in that style, you know. How often she upset herself, and how many tears she shed over me I can’t tell you. But what affected 35 me most — she chopped the wood for me! Do you know, sir, I never chopped a single log for you — she did it all! How it was she saved me, how it was I changed, looking at her, and gave up drinking, I can’t explain. I only know that what she said and the noble way she behaved brought about a change in my soul, and I shall never forget it. It’s time to go up, though, they are just going to ring the bell.”
Lushkov bowed and went off to the gallery.
Skvortsov, a Petersburg lawyer, looked at the speaker’s tattered 3 dark blue overcoat, at his muddy, drunken eyes, at the red patches on his cheeks, and it seemed to him that he had seen the man before.
“And now I am offered a post in the Kaluga province,” the beggar continued, “but I have not the means for the journey there. Graciously help me! I am ashamed to ask, but . . . I am compelled by circumstances.”
Skvortsov looked at his goloshes, of which one was shallow like a shoe, while the other came high up the leg like a boot, and suddenly remembered.
“Listen, the day before yesterday I met you in Sadovoy Street,” he said, “and then you told me, not that you were a village schoolmaster, but that you were a student who had been expelled. Do you remember?”
“N-o. No, that cannot be so!” the beggar muttered in confusion. “I am a village schoolmaster, and if you wish it I can show you documents to prove it.”
“That’s enough lies! You called yourself a student, and even told me what you were expelled for. Do you remember?”
Skvortsov flushed, and with a look of disgust on his face turned away from the ragged 4 figure.
“It’s contemptible 5, sir!” he cried angrily. “It’s a swindle! I’ll hand you over to the police, damn you! You are poor and hungry, but that does not give you the right to lie so shamelessly!”
The ragged figure took hold of the door-handle and, like a bird in a snare 6, looked round the hall desperately 7.
“I . . . I am not lying,” he muttered. “I can show documents.”
“Who can believe you?” Skvortsov went on, still indignant. “To exploit the sympathy of the public for village schoolmasters and students — it’s so low, so mean, so dirty! It’s revolting!”
Skvortsov flew into a rage and gave the beggar a merciless scolding. The ragged fellow’s insolent 8 lying aroused his disgust and aversion, was an offence against what he, Skvortsov, loved and prized in himself: kindliness 9, a feeling heart, sympathy for the unhappy. By his lying, by his treacherous 10 assault upon compassion 11, the individual had, as it were, defiled 12 the charity which he liked to give to the poor with no misgivings 13 in his heart. The beggar at first defended himself, protested with oaths, then he sank into silence and hung his head, overcome with shame.
“Sir!” he said, laying his hand on his heart, “I really was . . . lying! I am not a student and not a village schoolmaster. All that’s mere 14 invention! I used to be in the Russian choir 15, and I was turned out of it for drunkenness. But what can I do? Believe me, in God’s name, I can’t get on without lying — when I tell the truth no one will give me anything. With the truth one may die of hunger and freeze without a night’s lodging! What you say is true, I understand that, but . . . what am I to do?”
“What are you to do? You ask what are you to do?” cried Skvortsov, going close up to him. “Work — that’s what you must do! You must work!”
“Work. . . . I know that myself, but where can I get work?”
“Nonsense. You are young, strong, and healthy, and could always find work if you wanted to. But you know you are lazy, pampered 16, drunken! You reek 17 of vodka like a pothouse! You have become false and corrupt 18 to the marrow 19 of your bones and fit for nothing but begging and lying! If you do graciously condescend 20 to take work, you must have a job in an office, in the Russian choir, or as a billiard-marker, where you will have a salary and have nothing to do! But how would you like to undertake manual labour? I’ll be bound, you wouldn’t be a house porter or a factory hand! You are too genteel for that!”
“What things you say, really . . .” said the beggar, and he gave a bitter smile. “How can I get manual work? It’s rather late for me to be a shopman, for in trade one has to begin from a boy; no one would take me as a house porter, because I am not of that class . . . . And I could not get work in a factory; one must know a trade, and I know nothing.”
“Nonsense! You always find some justification 21! Wouldn’t you like to chop wood?”
“I would not refuse to, but the regular woodchoppers are out of work now.”
“Oh, all idlers argue like that! As soon as you are offered anything you refuse it. Would you care to chop wood for me?”
“Certainly I will. . .”
“Very good, we shall see. . . . Excellent. We’ll see!” Skvortsov, in nervous haste; and not without malignant 22 pleasure, rubbing his hands, summoned his cook from the kitchen.
“Here, Olga,” he said to her, “take this gentleman to the shed and let him chop some wood.”
The beggar shrugged 23 his shoulders as though puzzled, and irresolutely 24 followed the cook. It was evident from his demeanour that he had consented to go and chop wood, not because he was hungry and wanted to earn money, but simply from shame and amour propre, because he had been taken at his word. It was clear, too, that he was suffering from the effects of vodka, that he was unwell, and felt not the faintest inclination 25 to work.
Skvortsov hurried into the dining-room. There from the window which looked out into the yard he could see the woodshed and everything that happened in the yard. Standing 26 at the window, Skvortsov saw the cook and the beggar come by the back way into the yard and go through the muddy snow to the woodshed. Olga scrutinized 27 her companion angrily, and jerking her elbow unlocked the woodshed and angrily banged the door open.
“Most likely we interrupted the woman drinking her coffee,” thought Skvortsov. “What a cross creature she is!”
Then he saw the pseudo-schoolmaster and pseudo-student seat himself on a block of wood, and, leaning his red cheeks upon his fists, sink into thought. The cook flung an axe 28 at his feet, spat 29 angrily on the ground, and, judging by the expression of her lips, began abusing him. The beggar drew a log of wood towards him irresolutely, set it up between his feet, and diffidently drew the axe across it. The log toppled and fell over. The beggar drew it towards him, breathed on his frozen hands, and again drew the axe along it as cautiously as though he were afraid of its hitting his golosh or chopping off his fingers. The log fell over again.
Skvortsov’s wrath 30 had passed off by now, he felt sore and ashamed at the thought that he had forced a pampered, drunken, and perhaps sick man to do hard, rough work in the cold.
“Never mind, let him go on . . .” he thought, going from the dining-room into his study. “I am doing it for his good!”
An hour later Olga appeared and announced that the wood had been chopped up.
“Here, give him half a rouble,” said Skvortsov. “If he likes, let him come and chop wood on the first of every month. . . . There will always be work for him.”
On the first of the month the beggar turned up and again earned half a rouble, though he could hardly stand. From that time forward he took to turning up frequently, and work was always found for him: sometimes he would sweep the snow into heaps, or clear up the shed, at another he used to beat the rugs and the mattresses 31. He always received thirty to forty kopecks for his work, and on one occasion an old pair of trousers was sent out to him.
When he moved, Skvortsov engaged him to assist in packing and moving the furniture. On this occasion the beggar was sober, gloomy, and silent; he scarcely touched the furniture, walked with hanging head behind the furniture vans, and did not even try to appear busy; he merely shivered with the cold, and was overcome with confusion when the men with the vans laughed at his idleness, feebleness, and ragged coat that had once been a gentleman’s. After the removal Skvortsov sent for him.
“Well, I see my words have had an effect upon you,” he said, giving him a rouble. “This is for your work. I see that you are sober and not disinclined to work. What is your name?”
“Lushkov.”
“I can offer you better work, not so rough, Lushkov. Can you write?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then go with this note tomorrow to my colleague and he will give you some copying to do. Work, don’t drink, and don’t forget what I said to you. Good-bye.”
Skvortsov, pleased that he had put a man in the path of rectitude, patted Lushkov genially 32 on the shoulder, and even shook hands with him at parting.
Lushkov took the letter, departed, and from that time forward did not come to the back-yard for work.
Two years passed. One day as Skvortsov was standing at the ticket-office of a theatre, paying for his ticket, he saw beside him a little man with a lambskin collar and a shabby cat’s-skin cap. The man timidly asked the clerk for a gallery ticket and paid for it with kopecks.
“Lushkov, is it you?” asked Skvortsov, recognizing in the little man his former woodchopper. “Well, what are you doing? Are you getting on all right?”
“Pretty well. . . . I am in a notary’s office now. I earn thirty-five roubles.”
“Well, thank God, that’s capital. I rejoice for you. I am very, very glad, Lushkov. You know, in a way, you are my godson. It was I who shoved you into the right way. Do you remember what a scolding I gave you, eh? You almost sank through the floor that time. Well, thank you, my dear fellow, for remembering my words.”
“Thank you too,” said Lushkov. “If I had not come to you that day, maybe I should be calling myself a schoolmaster or a student still. Yes, in your house I was saved, and climbed out of the pit.”
“I am very, very glad.”
“Thank you for your kind words and deeds. What you said that day was excellent. I am grateful to you and to your cook, God bless that kind, noble-hearted woman. What you said that day was excellent; I am indebted to you as long as I live, of course, but it was your cook, Olga, who really saved me.”
“How was that?”
“Why, it was like this. I used to come to you to chop wood and she would begin: ‘Ah, you drunkard! You God-forsaken man! And yet death does not take you!’ and then she would sit opposite me, lamenting 33, looking into my face and wailing 34: ‘You unlucky fellow! You have no gladness in this world, and in the next you will burn in hell, poor drunkard! You poor sorrowful creature!’ and she always went on in that style, you know. How often she upset herself, and how many tears she shed over me I can’t tell you. But what affected 35 me most — she chopped the wood for me! Do you know, sir, I never chopped a single log for you — she did it all! How it was she saved me, how it was I changed, looking at her, and gave up drinking, I can’t explain. I only know that what she said and the noble way she behaved brought about a change in my soul, and I shall never forget it. It’s time to go up, though, they are just going to ring the bell.”
Lushkov bowed and went off to the gallery.
n.寄宿,住所;(大学生的)校外宿舍
- The bill is inclusive of the food and lodging. 账单包括吃、住费用。
- Where can you find lodging for the night? 你今晚在哪里借宿?
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
- He was made king as a result of various intrigues. 由于搞了各种各样的阴谋,他当上了国王。 来自《简明英汉词典》
- Those who go in for intrigues and conspiracy are doomed to failure. 搞阴谋诡计的人注定要失败。 来自《现代汉英综合大词典》
adj.破旧的,衣衫破的
- Her tattered clothes in no way detracted from her beauty.她的破衣烂衫丝毫没有影响她的美貌。
- Their tattered clothing and broken furniture indicated their poverty.他们褴褛的衣服和破烂的家具显出他们的贫穷。
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的
- A ragged shout went up from the small crowd.这一小群人发出了刺耳的喊叫。
- Ragged clothing infers poverty.破衣烂衫意味着贫穷。
adj.可鄙的,可轻视的,卑劣的
- His personal presence is unimpressive and his speech contemptible.他气貌不扬,言语粗俗。
- That was a contemptible trick to play on a friend.那是对朋友玩弄的一出可鄙的把戏。
n.陷阱,诱惑,圈套;(去除息肉或者肿瘤的)勒除器;响弦,小军鼓;vt.以陷阱捕获,诱惑
- I used to snare small birds such as sparrows.我曾常用罗网捕捉麻雀等小鸟。
- Most of the people realized that their scheme was simply a snare and a delusion.大多数人都认识到他们的诡计不过是一个骗人的圈套。
adv.极度渴望地,绝望地,孤注一掷地
- He was desperately seeking a way to see her again.他正拼命想办法再见她一面。
- He longed desperately to be back at home.他非常渴望回家。
adj.傲慢的,无理的
- His insolent manner really got my blood up.他那傲慢的态度把我的肺都气炸了。
- It was insolent of them to demand special treatment.他们要求给予特殊待遇,脸皮真厚。
n.厚道,亲切,友好的行为
- Martha looked up into a strange face and dark eyes alight with kindliness and concern. 马撒慢慢抬起头,映入眼帘的是张陌生的脸,脸上有一双充满慈爱和关注的眼睛。 来自辞典例句
- I think the chief thing that struck me about Burton was his kindliness. 我想,我对伯顿印象最深之处主要还是这个人的和善。 来自辞典例句
adj.不可靠的,有暗藏的危险的;adj.背叛的,背信弃义的
- The surface water made the road treacherous for drivers.路面的积水对驾车者构成危险。
- The frozen snow was treacherous to walk on.在冻雪上行走有潜在危险。
n.同情,怜悯
- He could not help having compassion for the poor creature.他情不自禁地怜悯起那个可怜的人来。
- Her heart was filled with compassion for the motherless children.她对于没有母亲的孩子们充满了怜悯心。
v.玷污( defile的过去式和过去分词 );污染;弄脏;纵列行进
- Many victims of burglary feel their homes have been defiled. 许多家门被撬的人都感到自己的家被玷污了。
- I felt defiled by the filth. 我觉得这些脏话玷污了我。 来自《简明英汉词典》
n.疑虑,担忧,害怕;疑虑,担心,恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 );疑惧
- I had grave misgivings about making the trip. 对于这次旅行我有过极大的顾虑。
- Don't be overtaken by misgivings and fear. Just go full stream ahead! 不要瞻前顾后, 畏首畏尾。甩开膀子干吧! 来自《现代汉英综合大词典》
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过
- That is a mere repetition of what you said before.那不过是重复了你以前讲的话。
- It's a mere waste of time waiting any longer.再等下去纯粹是浪费时间。
n.唱诗班,唱诗班的席位,合唱团,舞蹈团;v.合唱
- The choir sang the words out with great vigor.合唱团以极大的热情唱出了歌词。
- The church choir is singing tonight.今晚教堂歌唱队要唱诗。
adj.饮食过量的,饮食奢侈的v.纵容,宠,娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 )
- The lazy scum deserve worse. What if they ain't fed up and pampered? 他们吃不饱,他们的要求满足不了,这又有什么关系? 来自飘(部分)
- She petted and pampered him and would let no one discipline him but she, herself. 她爱他,娇养他,而且除了她自己以外,她不允许任何人管教他。 来自辞典例句
v.发出臭气;n.恶臭
- Where there's reek,there's heat.哪里有恶臭,哪里必发热。
- That reek is from the fox.那股恶臭是狐狸发出的。
v.贿赂,收买;adj.腐败的,贪污的
- The newspaper alleged the mayor's corrupt practices.那家报纸断言市长有舞弊行为。
- This judge is corrupt.这个法官贪污。
n.骨髓;精华;活力
- It was so cold that he felt frozen to the marrow. 天气太冷了,他感到寒冷刺骨。
- He was tired to the marrow of his bones.他真是累得筋疲力尽了。
v.俯就,屈尊;堕落,丢丑
- Would you condescend to accompany me?你肯屈尊陪我吗?
- He did not condescend to answer.He turned his back on me.他不愿屈尊回答我的问题。他不理睬我。
n.正当的理由;辩解的理由
- There's no justification for dividing the company into smaller units. 没有理由把公司划分成小单位。
- In the young there is a justification for this feeling. 在年轻人中有这种感觉是有理由的。
adj.恶性的,致命的;恶意的,恶毒的
- Alexander got a malignant slander.亚历山大受到恶意的诽谤。
- He started to his feet with a malignant glance at Winston.他爬了起来,不高兴地看了温斯顿一眼。
vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式)
- Sam shrugged and said nothing. 萨姆耸耸肩膀,什么也没说。
- She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. 她耸耸肩,装出一副无所谓的样子。 来自《简明英汉词典》
adv.优柔寡断地
- He followed irresolutely for a little distance, half a pace behind her. 他犹豫地跟了短短的一段距离,落在她身后半步路。 来自英汉文学
- She arose and stood irresolutely at the foot of the stairs. 她起身来到楼梯脚下,犹豫不定地站在那里。 来自飘(部分)
n.倾斜;点头;弯腰;斜坡;倾度;倾向;爱好
- She greeted us with a slight inclination of the head.她微微点头向我们致意。
- I did not feel the slightest inclination to hurry.我没有丝毫着急的意思。
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的
- After the earthquake only a few houses were left standing.地震过后只有几幢房屋还立着。
- They're standing out against any change in the law.他们坚决反对对法律做任何修改。
v.仔细检查,详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 )
- The jeweler scrutinized the diamond for flaws. 宝石商人仔细察看钻石有无瑕庇 来自《现代英汉综合大词典》
- Together we scrutinized the twelve lemon cakes from the delicatessen shop. 我们一起把甜食店里买来的十二块柠檬蛋糕细细打量了一番。 来自英汉文学 - 盖茨比
n.斧子;v.用斧头砍,削减
- Be careful with that sharp axe.那把斧子很锋利,你要当心。
- The edge of this axe has turned.这把斧子卷了刃了。
n.口角,掌击;v.发出呼噜呼噜声
- Her parents always have spats.她的父母经常有些小的口角。
- There is only a spat between the brother and sister.那只是兄妹间的小吵小闹。
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒
- His silence marked his wrath. 他的沉默表明了他的愤怒。
- The wrath of the people is now aroused. 人们被激怒了。
褥垫,床垫( mattress的名词复数 )
- The straw mattresses are airing there. 草垫子正在那里晾着。
- The researchers tested more than 20 mattresses of various materials. 研究人员试验了二十多个不同材料的床垫。
adv.亲切地,和蔼地;快活地
- The white church peeps out genially from behind the huts scattered on the river bank. 一座白色教堂从散布在岸上的那些小木房后面殷勤地探出头来。 来自《简明英汉词典》
- "Well, It'seems strange to see you way up here,'said Mr. Kenny genially. “咳,真没想到会在这么远的地方见到你,"肯尼先生亲切地说。 来自英汉文学 - 嘉莉妹妹
adj.悲伤的,悲哀的v.(为…)哀悼,痛哭,悲伤( lament的现在分词 )
- Katydids were lamenting fall's approach. 蝈蝈儿正为秋天临近而哀鸣。 来自《现代汉英综合大词典》
- Lamenting because the papers hadn't been destroyed and the money kept. 她正在吃后悔药呢,后悔自己没有毁了那张字条,把钱昧下来! 来自英汉文学 - 败坏赫德莱堡
v.哭叫,哀号( wail的现在分词 );沱
- A police car raced past with its siren wailing. 一辆警车鸣着警报器飞驰而过。
- The little girl was wailing miserably. 那小女孩难过得号啕大哭。