【英文短篇小说】The Swimmer
时间:2019-01-23 作者:英语课 分类:英文短篇小说
英语课
IT WAS ONE of those midsummer Sundays when everyone sits around saying, “I drank too much last night.” You might have heard it whispered by the parishioners leaving church, heard it from the lips of the priest himself, struggling with his cassock in the vestiarium, heard it from the golf links and the tennis courts, heard it from the wildlife preserve where the leader of the Audubon group was suffering from a terrible hangover. “I drank too much,” said Donald Westerhazy. “We all drank too much,” said Lucinda Merrill. “It must have been the wine,” said Helen Westerhazy. “I drank too much of that claret.”
This was at the edge of the Westerhazys’ pool. The pool, fed by an artesian well with a high iron content, was a pale shade of green. It was a fine day. In the west there was a massive stand of cumulus cloud so like a city seen from a distance—from the bow of an approaching ship—that it might have had a name. Lisbon. Hackensack. The sun was hot. Neddy Merrill sat by the green water, one hand in it, one around a glass of gin. He was a slender man—he seemed to have the especial slenderness of youth—and while he was far from young he had slid down his banister that morning and given the bronze backside of Aphrodite on the hall table a smack 2, as he jogged toward the smell of coffee in his dining room. He might have been compared to a summer’s day, particularly the last hours of one, and while he lacked a tennis racket or a sail bag the impression was definitely one of youth, sport, and clement 3 weather. He had been swimming and now he was breathing deeply, stertorously 4 as if he could gulp 5 into his lungs the components 6 of that moment, the heat of the sun, the intenseness of his pleasure. It all seemed to flow into his chest. His own house stood in Bullet Park, eight miles to the south, where his four beautiful daughters would have had their lunch and might be playing tennis. Then it occurred to him that by taking a dogleg to the southwest he could reach his home by water.
His life was not confining and the delight he took in this observation could not be explained by its suggestion of escape. He seemed to see, with a cartographer’s eye, that string of swimming pools, that quasi-subterranean stream that curved across the county. He had made a discovery, a contribution to modern geography; he would name the stream Lucinda after his wife. He was not a practical joker nor was he a fool but he was determinedly 8 original and had a vague and modest idea of himself as a legendary 9 figure. The day was beautiful and it seemed to him that a long swim might enlarge and celebrate its beauty.
He took off a sweater that was hung over his shoulders and dove in. He had an inexplicable 10 contempt for men who did not hurl 11 themselves into pools. He swam a choppy crawl, breathing either with every stroke or every fourth stroke and counting somewhere well in the back of his mind the one-two one-two of a flutter kick. It was not a serviceable stroke for long distances but the domestication 12 of swimming had saddled the sport with some customs and in his part of the world a crawl was customary. To be embraced and sustained by the light green water was less a pleasure, it seemed, than the resumption of a natural condition, and he would have liked to swim without trunks, but this was not possible, considering his project. He hoisted 14 himself up on the far curb 15—he never used the ladder—and started across the lawn. When Lucinda asked where he was going he said he was going to swim home.
The only maps and charts he had to go by were remembered or imaginary but these were clear enough. First there were the Grahams, the Hammers, the Lears, the Howlands, and the Crosscups. He would cross Ditmar Street to the Bunkers and come, after a short portage, to the Levys, the Welchers, and the public pool in Lancaster. Then there were the Hallorans, the Sachses, the Biswangers, Shirley Adams, the Gilmartins, and the Clydes. The day was lovely, and that he lived in a world so generously supplied with water seemed like a clemency 17, a beneficence. His heart was high and he ran across the grass. Making his way home by an uncommon 18 route gave him the feeling that he was a pilgrim, an explorer, a man with a destiny, and he knew that he would find friends all along the way; friends would line the banks of the Lucinda River.
He went through a hedge that separated the Westerhazys’ land from the Grahams’, walked under some flowering apple trees, passed the shed that housed their pump and filter, and came out at the Grahams’ pool. “Why, Neddy,” Mrs. Graham said, “what a marvelous surprise. I’ve been trying to get you on the phone all morning. Here, let me get you a drink.” He saw then, like any explorer, that the hospitable 19 customs and traditions of the natives would have to be handled with diplomacy 20 if he was ever going to reach his destination. He did not want to mystify or seem rude to the Grahams nor did he have the time to linger there. He swam the length of their pool and joined them in the sun and was rescued, a few minutes later, by the arrival of two carloads of friends from Connecticut. During the uproarious reunions he was able to slip away. He went down by the front of the Grahams’ house, stepped over a thorny 21 hedge, and crossed a vacant lot to the Hammers’. Mrs. Hammer, looking up from her roses, saw him swim by although she wasn’t quite sure who it was. The Lears heard him splashing past the open windows of their living room. The Howlands and the Crosscups were away. After leaving the Howlands’ he crossed Ditmar Street and started for the Bunkers’, where he could hear, even at that distance, the noise of a party.
The water refracted the sound of voices and laughter and seemed to suspend it in midair. The Bunkers’ pool was on a rise and he climbed some stairs to a terrace where twenty-five or thirty men and women were drinking. The only person in the water was Rusty 23 Towers, who floated there on a rubber raft. Oh, how bonny and lush were the banks of the Lucinda River! Prosperous men and women gathered by the sapphire 24-colored waters while caterer’s men in white coats passed them cold gin. Overhead a red de Haviland trainer was circling around and around and around in the sky with something like the glee of a child in a swing. Ned felt a passing affection for the scene, a tenderness for the gathering 25, as if it was something he might touch. In the distance he heard thunder. As soon as Enid Bunker saw him she began to scream: “Oh, look who’s here! What a marvelous surprise! When Lucinda said that you couldn’t come I thought I’d die.” She made her way to him through the crowd, and when they had finished kissing she led him to the bar, a progress that was slowed by the fact that he stopped to kiss eight or ten other women and shake the hands of as many men. A smiling bartender he had seen at a hundred parties gave him a gin and tonic 26 and he stood by the bar for a moment, anxious not to get stuck in any conversation that would delay his voyage. When he seemed about to be surrounded he dove in and swam close to the side to avoid colliding with Rusty’s raft. At the far end of the pool he bypassed the Tomlinsons with a broad smile and jogged up the garden path. The gravel 27 cut his feet but this was the only unpleasantness. The party was confined to the pool, and as he went toward the house he heard the brilliant, watery 28 sound of voices fade, heard the noise of a radio from the Bunkers’ kitchen, where someone was listening to a ball game. Sunday afternoon. He made his way through the parked cars and down the grassy 29 border of their driveway to Alewives Lane. He did not want to be seen on the road in his bathing trunks but there was no traffic and he made the short distance to the Levys’ driveway, marked with a PRIVATE PROPERTY sign and a green tube for The New York Times. All the doors and windows of the big house were open but there were no signs of life; not even a dog barked. He went around the side of the house to the pool and saw that the Levys had only recently left. Glasses and bottles and dishes of nuts were on a table at the deep end, where there was a bathhouse or gazebo, hung with Japanese lanterns. After swimming the pool he got himself a glass, and poured a drink. It was his fourth or fifth drink and he had swum nearly half the length of the Lucinda River. He felt tired, clean, and pleased at that moment to be alone; pleased with everything.
It would storm. The stand of cumulus cloud—that city—had risen and darkened, and while he sat there he heard the percussiveness 30 of thunder again. The de Haviland trainer was still circling overhead and it seemed to Ned that he could almost hear the pilot laugh with pleasure in the afternoon; but when there was another peal 31 of thunder he took off for home. A train whistle blew and he wondered what time it had gotten to be. Four? Five? He thought of the provincial 32 station at that hour, where a waiter, his tuxedo 33 concealed 34 by a raincoat, a dwarf 35 with some flowers wrapped in newspaper, and a woman who had been crying would be waiting for the local. It was suddenly growing dark; it was that moment when the pin-headed birds seem to organize their song into some acute and knowledgeable 36 recognition of the storm’s approach. Then there was a fine noise of rushing water from the crown of an oak at his back, as if a spigot there had been turned. Then the noise of fountains came from the crowns of all the tall trees. Why did he love storms, what was the meaning of his excitement when the door sprang open and the rain wind fled rudely up the stairs, why had the simple task of shutting the windows of an old house seemed fitting and urgent, why did the first watery notes of a storm wind have for him the unmistakable sound of good news, cheer, glad tidings? Then there was an explosion, a smell of cordite, and rain lashed 37 the Japanese lanterns that Mrs. Levy 16 had bought in Kyoto the year before last, or was it the year before that?
He stayed in the Levys’ gazebo until the storm had passed. The rain had cooled the air and he shivered. The force of the wind had stripped a maple 38 of its red and yellow leaves and scattered 39 them over the grass and the water. Since it was midsummer the tree must be blighted 40, and yet he felt a peculiar 41 sadness at this sign of autumn. He braced 13 his shoulders, emptied his glass, and started for the Welchers’ pool. This meant crossing the Lindleys’ riding ring and he was surprised to find it overgrown with grass and all the jumps dismantled 42. He wondered if the Lindleys had sold their horses or gone away for the summer and put them out to board. He seemed to remember having heard something about the Lindleys and their horses but the memory was unclear. On he went, barefoot through the wet grass, to the Welchers’, where he found their pool was dry.
This breach 43 in his chain of water disappointed him absurdly, and he felt like some explorer who seeks a torrential headwater and finds a dead stream. He was disappointed and mystified. It was common enough to go away for the summer but no one ever drained his pool. The Welchers had definitely gone away. The pool furniture was folded, stacked, and covered with a tarpaulin 44. The bathhouse was locked. All the windows of the house were shut, and when he went around to the driveway in front he saw a FOR SALE sign nailed to a tree. When had he last heard from the Welchers—when, that is, had he and Lucinda last regretted an invitation to dine with them? It seemed only a week or so ago. Was his memory failing or had he so disciplined it in the repression 45 of unpleasant facts that he had damaged his sense of the truth? Then in the distance he heard the sound of a tennis game. This cheered him, cleared away all his apprehensions 46 and let him regard the overcast 47 sky and the cold air with indifference 48. This was the day that Neddy Merrill swam across the county. That was the day! He started off then for his most difficult portage.
HAD YOU GONE for a Sunday afternoon ride that day you might have seen him, close to naked, standing 49 on the shoulders of Route 424, waiting for a chance to cross. You might have wondered if he was the victim of foul 50 play, had his car broken down, or was he merely a fool. Standing barefoot in the deposits of the highway—beer cans, rags, and blowout patches—exposed to all kinds of ridicule 51, he seemed pitiful. He had known when he started that this was a part of his journey—it had been on his maps—but confronted with the lines of traffic, worming through the summery light, he found himself unprepared. He was laughed at, jeered 52 at, a beer can was thrown at him, and he had no dignity or humor to bring to the situation. He could have gone back, back to the Westerhazys’, where Lucinda would still be sitting in the sun. He had signed nothing, vowed 53 nothing, pledged nothing, not even to himself. Why, believing as he did, that all human obduracy 54 was susceptible 55 to common sense, was he unable to turn back? Why was he determined 7 to complete his journey even if it meant putting his life in danger? At what point had this prank 56, this joke, this piece of horseplay become serious? He could not go back, he could not even recall with any clearness the green water at the Westerhazys’, the sense of inhaling 57 the day’s components, the friendly and relaxed voices saying that they had drunk too much. In the space of an hour, more or less, he had covered a distance that made his return impossible.
An old man, tooling down the highway at fifteen miles an hour, let him get to the middle of the road, where there was a grass divider. Here he was exposed to the ridicule of the northbound traffic, but after ten or fifteen minutes he was able to cross. From here he had only a short walk to the Recreation Center at the edge of the village of Lancaster, where there were some handball courts and a public pool.
The effect of the water on voices, the illusion of brilliance 58 and suspense 59, was the same here as it had been at the Bunkers’ but the sounds here were louder, harsher, and more shrill 60, and as soon as he entered the crowded enclosure he was confronted with regimentation 61. “ALL SWIMMERS MUST TAKE A SHOWER BEFORE USING THE POOL, ALL SWIMMERS MUST USE THE FOOTBATH, ALL SWIMMERS MUST WEAR THEIR IDENTIFICATION DISKS.” He took a shower, washed his feet in a cloudy and bitter solution, and made his way to the edge of the water. It stank 62 of chlorine and looked to him like a sink. A pair of lifeguards in a pair of towers blew police whistles at what seemed to be regular intervals 63 and abused the swimmers through a public address system. Neddy remembered the sapphire water at the Bunkers’ with longing 64 and thought that he might contaminate himself—damage his own prosperousness and charm—by swimming in this murk, but he reminded himself that he was an explorer, a pilgrim, and that this was merely a stagnant 65 bend in the Lucinda River. He dove, scowling 66 with distaste, into the chlorine and had to swim with his head above water to avoid collisions, but even so he was bumped into, splashed, and jostled. When he got to the shallow end both lifeguards were shouting at him: “Hey, you, you without the identification disk, get outa the water.” He did, but they had no way of pursuing him and he went through the reek 67 of suntan oil and chlorine out through the hurricane fence and passed the handball courts. By crossing the road he entered the wooded part of the Halloran estate. The woods were not cleared and the footing was treacherous 68 and difficult until he reached the lawn and the clipped beech 69 hedge that encircled their pool.
The Hallorans were friends, an elderly couple of enormous wealth who seemed to bask 70 in the suspicion that they might be Communists. They were zealous 72 reformers but they were not Communists, and yet when they were accused, as they sometimes were, of subversion 73, it seemed to gratify and excite them. Their beech hedge was yellow and he guessed this had been blighted like the Levys’ maple. He called hullo, hullo, to warn the Hallorans of his approach, to palliate his invasion of their privacy. The Hallorans, for reasons that had never been explained to him, did not wear bathing suits. No explanations were in order, really. Their nakedness was a detail in their uncompromising zeal 71 for reform and he stepped politely out of his trunks before he went through the opening in the hedge.
Mrs. Halloran, a stout 74 woman with white hair and a serene 75 face, was reading the Times. Mr. Halloran was taking beech leaves out of the water with a scoop 76. They seemed not surprised or displeased 77 to see him. Their pool was perhaps the oldest in the country, a fieldstone rectangle, fed by a brook 78. It had no filter or pump and its waters were the opaque 79 gold of the stream.
“I’m swimming across the county,” Ned said.
“Why, I didn’t know one could,” exclaimed Mrs. Halloran.
“Well, I’ve made it from the Westerhazys’,” Ned said. “That must be about four miles.”
He left his trunks at the deep end, walked to the shallow end, and swam this stretch. As he was pulling himself out of the water he heard Mrs. Halloran say, “We’ve been terribly sorry to hear about all your misfortunes, Neddy.”
“My misfortunes?” Ned asked. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Why, we heard that you’d sold the house and that your poor children …”
“I don’t recall having sold the house,” Ned said, “and the girls are at home.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Halloran sighed. “Yes …” Her voice filled the air with an unseasonable melancholy 80 and Ned spoke 81 briskly. “Thank you for the swim.”
“Well, have a nice trip,” said Mrs. Halloran.
Beyond the hedge he pulled on his trunks and fastened them. They were loose and he wondered if, during the space of an afternoon, he could have lost some weight. He was cold and he was tired and the naked Hallorans and their dark water had depressed 82 him. The swim was too much for his strength but how could he have guessed this, sliding down the banister that morning and sitting in the Westerhazys’ sun? His arms were lame 83. His legs felt rubbery and ached at the joints 84. The worst of it was the cold in his bones and the feeling that he might never be warm again. Leaves were falling down around him and he smelled wood smoke on the wind. Who would be burning wood at this time of year?
He needed a drink. Whiskey would warm him, pick him up, carry him through the last of his journey, refresh his feeling that it was original and valorous to swim across the county. Channel swimmers took brandy. He needed a stimulant 85. He crossed the lawn in front of the Hallorans’ house and went down a little path to where they had built a house for their only daughter, Helen, and her husband, Eric Sachs. The Sachses’ pool was small and he found Helen and her husband there.
“Oh, Neddy,” Helen said. “Did you lunch at Mother’s?”
“Not really,” Ned said. “I did stop to see your parents.” This seemed to be explanation enough. “I’m terribly sorry to break in on you like this but I’ve taken a chill and I wonder if you’d give me a drink.”
“Why, I’d love to,” Helen said, “but there hasn’t been anything in this house to drink since Eric’s operation. That was three years ago.”
Was he losing his memory, had his gift for concealing 86 painful facts let him forget that he had sold his house, that his children were in trouble, and that his friend had been ill? His eyes slipped from Eric’s face to his abdomen 87, where he saw three pale, sutured scars, two of them at least a foot long. Gone was his navel, and what, Neddy thought, would the roving hand, bed-checking one’s gifts at 3 A.M., make of a belly 88 with no navel, no link to birth, this breach in the succession?
“I’m sure you can get a drink at the Biswangers’,” Helen said. “They’re having an enormous do. You can hear it from here. Listen!”
She raised her head and from across the road, the lawns, the gardens, the woods, the fields, he heard again the brilliant noise of voices over water. “Well, I’ll get wet,” he said, still feeling that he had no freedom of choice about his means of travel. He dove into the Sachses’ cold water and, gasping 89, close to drowning, made his way from one end of the pool to the other. “Lucinda and I want terribly to see you,” he said over his shoulder, his face set toward the Biswangers’. “We’re sorry it’s been so long and we’ll call you very soon.”
He crossed some fields to the Biswangers’ and the sounds of revelry there. They would be honored to give him a drink, they would be happy to give him a drink. The Biswangers invited him and Lucinda for dinner four times a year, six weeks in advance. They were always rebuffed and yet they continued to send out their invitations, unwilling 90 to comprehend the rigid 91 and undemocratic realities of their society. They were the sort of people who discussed the price of things at cocktails 92, exchanged market tips during dinner, and after dinner told dirty stories to mixed company. They did not belong to Neddy’s set—they were not even on Lucinda’s Christmas-card list. He went toward their pool with feelings of indifference, charity, and some unease, since it seemed to be getting dark and these were the longest days of the year. The party when he joined it was noisy and large. Grace Biswanger was the kind of hostess who asked the optometrist 93, the veterinarian, the real-estate dealer 94, and the dentist. No one was swimming and the twilight 95, reflected on the water of the pool, had a wintry gleam. There was a bar and he started for this. When Grace Biswanger saw him she came toward him, not affectionately as he had every right to expect, but bellicosely.
“Why, this party has everything,” she said loudly, “including a gate crasher.”
She could not deal him a social blow—there was no question about this and he did not flinch 96. “As a gate crasher,” he asked politely, “do I rate a drink?”
“Suit yourself,” she said. “You don’t seem to pay much attention to invitations.”
She turned her back on him and joined some guests, and he went to the bar and ordered a whiskey. The bartender served him but he served him rudely. His was a world in which the caterer’s men kept the social score, and to be rebuffed by a part-time barkeep meant that he had suffered some loss of social esteem 97. Or perhaps the man was new and uninformed. Then he heard Grace at his back say: “They went for broke overnight—nothing but income—and he showed up drunk one Sunday and asked us to loan him five thousand dollars….” She was always talking about money. It was worse than eating your peas off a knife. He dove into the pool, swam its length and went away.
The next pool on his list, the last but two, belonged to his old mistress, Shirley Adams. If he had suffered any injuries at the Biswangers’ they would be cured here. Love—sexual roughhouse in fact—was the supreme 98 elixir 99, the pain killer 100, the brightly colored pill that would put the spring back into his step, the joy of life in his heart. They had had an affair last week, last month, last year. He couldn’t remember. It was he who had broken it off, his was the upper hand, and he stepped through the gate of the wall that surrounded her pool with nothing so considered as self-confidence. It seemed in a way to be his pool, as the lover, particularly the illicit 101 lover, enjoys the possessions of his mistress with an authority unknown to holy matrimony. She was there, her hair the color of brass 102, but her figure, at the edge of the lighted, cerulean water, excited in him no profound memories. It had been, he thought, a lighthearted affair, although she had wept when he broke it off. She seemed confused to see him and he wondered if she was still wounded. Would she, God forbid, weep again?
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I’m swimming across the county.”
“Good Christ. Will you ever grow up?”
“What’s the matter?”
“If you’ve come here for money,” she said, “I won’t give you another cent.”
“You could give me a drink.”
“I could but I won’t. I’m not alone.”
“Well, I’m on my way.”
He dove in and swam the pool, but when he tried to haul himself up onto the curb he found that the strength in his arms and shoulders had gone, and he paddled to the ladder and climbed out. Looking over his shoulder he saw, in the lighted bathhouse, a young man. Going out onto the dark lawn he smelled chrysanthemums 103 or marigolds—some stubborn autumnal fragrance—on the night air, strong as gas. Looking overhead he saw that the stars had come out, but why should he seem to see Andromeda, Cepheus, and Cassiopeia? What had become of the constellations 104 of midsummer? He began to cry.
It was probably the first time in his adult life that he had ever cried, certainly the first time in his life that he had ever felt so miserable 105, cold, tired, and bewildered. He could not understand the rudeness of the caterers barkeep or the rudeness of a mistress who had come to him on her knees and showered his trousers with tears. He had swum too long, he had been immersed too long, and his nose and his throat were sore from the water. What he needed then was a drink, some company, and some clean, dry clothes, and while he could have cut directly across the road to his home he went on to the Gilmartins’ pool, Here, for the first time in his life, he did not dive but went down the steps into the icy water and swam a hobbled sidestroke that he might have learned as a youth. He staggered with fatigue 106 on his way to the Clydes’ and paddled the length of their pool, stopping again and again with his hand on the curb to rest. He climbed up the ladder and wondered if he had the strength to get home. He had done what he wanted, he had swum the county, but he was so stupefied with exhaustion 107 that his triumph seemed vague. Stooped, holding on to the gateposts for support, he turned up the driveway of his own house.
The place was dark. Was it so late that they had all gone to bed? Had Lucinda stayed at the Westerhazys’ for supper? Had the girls joined her there or gone someplace else? Hadn’t they agreed, as they usually did on Sunday, to regret all their invitations and stay at home? He tried the garage doors to see what cars were in but the doors were locked and rust 22 came off the handles onto his hands. Going toward the house, he saw that the force of the thunderstorm had knocked one of the rain gutters 108 loose. It hung down over the front door like an umbrella rib 1, but it could be fixed 109 in the morning. The house was locked, and he thought that the stupid cook or the stupid maid must have locked the place up until he remembered that it had been some time since they had employed a maid or a cook. He shouted, pounded on the door, tried to force it with his shoulder, and then, looking in at the windows, saw that the place was empty.
This was at the edge of the Westerhazys’ pool. The pool, fed by an artesian well with a high iron content, was a pale shade of green. It was a fine day. In the west there was a massive stand of cumulus cloud so like a city seen from a distance—from the bow of an approaching ship—that it might have had a name. Lisbon. Hackensack. The sun was hot. Neddy Merrill sat by the green water, one hand in it, one around a glass of gin. He was a slender man—he seemed to have the especial slenderness of youth—and while he was far from young he had slid down his banister that morning and given the bronze backside of Aphrodite on the hall table a smack 2, as he jogged toward the smell of coffee in his dining room. He might have been compared to a summer’s day, particularly the last hours of one, and while he lacked a tennis racket or a sail bag the impression was definitely one of youth, sport, and clement 3 weather. He had been swimming and now he was breathing deeply, stertorously 4 as if he could gulp 5 into his lungs the components 6 of that moment, the heat of the sun, the intenseness of his pleasure. It all seemed to flow into his chest. His own house stood in Bullet Park, eight miles to the south, where his four beautiful daughters would have had their lunch and might be playing tennis. Then it occurred to him that by taking a dogleg to the southwest he could reach his home by water.
His life was not confining and the delight he took in this observation could not be explained by its suggestion of escape. He seemed to see, with a cartographer’s eye, that string of swimming pools, that quasi-subterranean stream that curved across the county. He had made a discovery, a contribution to modern geography; he would name the stream Lucinda after his wife. He was not a practical joker nor was he a fool but he was determinedly 8 original and had a vague and modest idea of himself as a legendary 9 figure. The day was beautiful and it seemed to him that a long swim might enlarge and celebrate its beauty.
He took off a sweater that was hung over his shoulders and dove in. He had an inexplicable 10 contempt for men who did not hurl 11 themselves into pools. He swam a choppy crawl, breathing either with every stroke or every fourth stroke and counting somewhere well in the back of his mind the one-two one-two of a flutter kick. It was not a serviceable stroke for long distances but the domestication 12 of swimming had saddled the sport with some customs and in his part of the world a crawl was customary. To be embraced and sustained by the light green water was less a pleasure, it seemed, than the resumption of a natural condition, and he would have liked to swim without trunks, but this was not possible, considering his project. He hoisted 14 himself up on the far curb 15—he never used the ladder—and started across the lawn. When Lucinda asked where he was going he said he was going to swim home.
The only maps and charts he had to go by were remembered or imaginary but these were clear enough. First there were the Grahams, the Hammers, the Lears, the Howlands, and the Crosscups. He would cross Ditmar Street to the Bunkers and come, after a short portage, to the Levys, the Welchers, and the public pool in Lancaster. Then there were the Hallorans, the Sachses, the Biswangers, Shirley Adams, the Gilmartins, and the Clydes. The day was lovely, and that he lived in a world so generously supplied with water seemed like a clemency 17, a beneficence. His heart was high and he ran across the grass. Making his way home by an uncommon 18 route gave him the feeling that he was a pilgrim, an explorer, a man with a destiny, and he knew that he would find friends all along the way; friends would line the banks of the Lucinda River.
He went through a hedge that separated the Westerhazys’ land from the Grahams’, walked under some flowering apple trees, passed the shed that housed their pump and filter, and came out at the Grahams’ pool. “Why, Neddy,” Mrs. Graham said, “what a marvelous surprise. I’ve been trying to get you on the phone all morning. Here, let me get you a drink.” He saw then, like any explorer, that the hospitable 19 customs and traditions of the natives would have to be handled with diplomacy 20 if he was ever going to reach his destination. He did not want to mystify or seem rude to the Grahams nor did he have the time to linger there. He swam the length of their pool and joined them in the sun and was rescued, a few minutes later, by the arrival of two carloads of friends from Connecticut. During the uproarious reunions he was able to slip away. He went down by the front of the Grahams’ house, stepped over a thorny 21 hedge, and crossed a vacant lot to the Hammers’. Mrs. Hammer, looking up from her roses, saw him swim by although she wasn’t quite sure who it was. The Lears heard him splashing past the open windows of their living room. The Howlands and the Crosscups were away. After leaving the Howlands’ he crossed Ditmar Street and started for the Bunkers’, where he could hear, even at that distance, the noise of a party.
The water refracted the sound of voices and laughter and seemed to suspend it in midair. The Bunkers’ pool was on a rise and he climbed some stairs to a terrace where twenty-five or thirty men and women were drinking. The only person in the water was Rusty 23 Towers, who floated there on a rubber raft. Oh, how bonny and lush were the banks of the Lucinda River! Prosperous men and women gathered by the sapphire 24-colored waters while caterer’s men in white coats passed them cold gin. Overhead a red de Haviland trainer was circling around and around and around in the sky with something like the glee of a child in a swing. Ned felt a passing affection for the scene, a tenderness for the gathering 25, as if it was something he might touch. In the distance he heard thunder. As soon as Enid Bunker saw him she began to scream: “Oh, look who’s here! What a marvelous surprise! When Lucinda said that you couldn’t come I thought I’d die.” She made her way to him through the crowd, and when they had finished kissing she led him to the bar, a progress that was slowed by the fact that he stopped to kiss eight or ten other women and shake the hands of as many men. A smiling bartender he had seen at a hundred parties gave him a gin and tonic 26 and he stood by the bar for a moment, anxious not to get stuck in any conversation that would delay his voyage. When he seemed about to be surrounded he dove in and swam close to the side to avoid colliding with Rusty’s raft. At the far end of the pool he bypassed the Tomlinsons with a broad smile and jogged up the garden path. The gravel 27 cut his feet but this was the only unpleasantness. The party was confined to the pool, and as he went toward the house he heard the brilliant, watery 28 sound of voices fade, heard the noise of a radio from the Bunkers’ kitchen, where someone was listening to a ball game. Sunday afternoon. He made his way through the parked cars and down the grassy 29 border of their driveway to Alewives Lane. He did not want to be seen on the road in his bathing trunks but there was no traffic and he made the short distance to the Levys’ driveway, marked with a PRIVATE PROPERTY sign and a green tube for The New York Times. All the doors and windows of the big house were open but there were no signs of life; not even a dog barked. He went around the side of the house to the pool and saw that the Levys had only recently left. Glasses and bottles and dishes of nuts were on a table at the deep end, where there was a bathhouse or gazebo, hung with Japanese lanterns. After swimming the pool he got himself a glass, and poured a drink. It was his fourth or fifth drink and he had swum nearly half the length of the Lucinda River. He felt tired, clean, and pleased at that moment to be alone; pleased with everything.
It would storm. The stand of cumulus cloud—that city—had risen and darkened, and while he sat there he heard the percussiveness 30 of thunder again. The de Haviland trainer was still circling overhead and it seemed to Ned that he could almost hear the pilot laugh with pleasure in the afternoon; but when there was another peal 31 of thunder he took off for home. A train whistle blew and he wondered what time it had gotten to be. Four? Five? He thought of the provincial 32 station at that hour, where a waiter, his tuxedo 33 concealed 34 by a raincoat, a dwarf 35 with some flowers wrapped in newspaper, and a woman who had been crying would be waiting for the local. It was suddenly growing dark; it was that moment when the pin-headed birds seem to organize their song into some acute and knowledgeable 36 recognition of the storm’s approach. Then there was a fine noise of rushing water from the crown of an oak at his back, as if a spigot there had been turned. Then the noise of fountains came from the crowns of all the tall trees. Why did he love storms, what was the meaning of his excitement when the door sprang open and the rain wind fled rudely up the stairs, why had the simple task of shutting the windows of an old house seemed fitting and urgent, why did the first watery notes of a storm wind have for him the unmistakable sound of good news, cheer, glad tidings? Then there was an explosion, a smell of cordite, and rain lashed 37 the Japanese lanterns that Mrs. Levy 16 had bought in Kyoto the year before last, or was it the year before that?
He stayed in the Levys’ gazebo until the storm had passed. The rain had cooled the air and he shivered. The force of the wind had stripped a maple 38 of its red and yellow leaves and scattered 39 them over the grass and the water. Since it was midsummer the tree must be blighted 40, and yet he felt a peculiar 41 sadness at this sign of autumn. He braced 13 his shoulders, emptied his glass, and started for the Welchers’ pool. This meant crossing the Lindleys’ riding ring and he was surprised to find it overgrown with grass and all the jumps dismantled 42. He wondered if the Lindleys had sold their horses or gone away for the summer and put them out to board. He seemed to remember having heard something about the Lindleys and their horses but the memory was unclear. On he went, barefoot through the wet grass, to the Welchers’, where he found their pool was dry.
This breach 43 in his chain of water disappointed him absurdly, and he felt like some explorer who seeks a torrential headwater and finds a dead stream. He was disappointed and mystified. It was common enough to go away for the summer but no one ever drained his pool. The Welchers had definitely gone away. The pool furniture was folded, stacked, and covered with a tarpaulin 44. The bathhouse was locked. All the windows of the house were shut, and when he went around to the driveway in front he saw a FOR SALE sign nailed to a tree. When had he last heard from the Welchers—when, that is, had he and Lucinda last regretted an invitation to dine with them? It seemed only a week or so ago. Was his memory failing or had he so disciplined it in the repression 45 of unpleasant facts that he had damaged his sense of the truth? Then in the distance he heard the sound of a tennis game. This cheered him, cleared away all his apprehensions 46 and let him regard the overcast 47 sky and the cold air with indifference 48. This was the day that Neddy Merrill swam across the county. That was the day! He started off then for his most difficult portage.
HAD YOU GONE for a Sunday afternoon ride that day you might have seen him, close to naked, standing 49 on the shoulders of Route 424, waiting for a chance to cross. You might have wondered if he was the victim of foul 50 play, had his car broken down, or was he merely a fool. Standing barefoot in the deposits of the highway—beer cans, rags, and blowout patches—exposed to all kinds of ridicule 51, he seemed pitiful. He had known when he started that this was a part of his journey—it had been on his maps—but confronted with the lines of traffic, worming through the summery light, he found himself unprepared. He was laughed at, jeered 52 at, a beer can was thrown at him, and he had no dignity or humor to bring to the situation. He could have gone back, back to the Westerhazys’, where Lucinda would still be sitting in the sun. He had signed nothing, vowed 53 nothing, pledged nothing, not even to himself. Why, believing as he did, that all human obduracy 54 was susceptible 55 to common sense, was he unable to turn back? Why was he determined 7 to complete his journey even if it meant putting his life in danger? At what point had this prank 56, this joke, this piece of horseplay become serious? He could not go back, he could not even recall with any clearness the green water at the Westerhazys’, the sense of inhaling 57 the day’s components, the friendly and relaxed voices saying that they had drunk too much. In the space of an hour, more or less, he had covered a distance that made his return impossible.
An old man, tooling down the highway at fifteen miles an hour, let him get to the middle of the road, where there was a grass divider. Here he was exposed to the ridicule of the northbound traffic, but after ten or fifteen minutes he was able to cross. From here he had only a short walk to the Recreation Center at the edge of the village of Lancaster, where there were some handball courts and a public pool.
The effect of the water on voices, the illusion of brilliance 58 and suspense 59, was the same here as it had been at the Bunkers’ but the sounds here were louder, harsher, and more shrill 60, and as soon as he entered the crowded enclosure he was confronted with regimentation 61. “ALL SWIMMERS MUST TAKE A SHOWER BEFORE USING THE POOL, ALL SWIMMERS MUST USE THE FOOTBATH, ALL SWIMMERS MUST WEAR THEIR IDENTIFICATION DISKS.” He took a shower, washed his feet in a cloudy and bitter solution, and made his way to the edge of the water. It stank 62 of chlorine and looked to him like a sink. A pair of lifeguards in a pair of towers blew police whistles at what seemed to be regular intervals 63 and abused the swimmers through a public address system. Neddy remembered the sapphire water at the Bunkers’ with longing 64 and thought that he might contaminate himself—damage his own prosperousness and charm—by swimming in this murk, but he reminded himself that he was an explorer, a pilgrim, and that this was merely a stagnant 65 bend in the Lucinda River. He dove, scowling 66 with distaste, into the chlorine and had to swim with his head above water to avoid collisions, but even so he was bumped into, splashed, and jostled. When he got to the shallow end both lifeguards were shouting at him: “Hey, you, you without the identification disk, get outa the water.” He did, but they had no way of pursuing him and he went through the reek 67 of suntan oil and chlorine out through the hurricane fence and passed the handball courts. By crossing the road he entered the wooded part of the Halloran estate. The woods were not cleared and the footing was treacherous 68 and difficult until he reached the lawn and the clipped beech 69 hedge that encircled their pool.
The Hallorans were friends, an elderly couple of enormous wealth who seemed to bask 70 in the suspicion that they might be Communists. They were zealous 72 reformers but they were not Communists, and yet when they were accused, as they sometimes were, of subversion 73, it seemed to gratify and excite them. Their beech hedge was yellow and he guessed this had been blighted like the Levys’ maple. He called hullo, hullo, to warn the Hallorans of his approach, to palliate his invasion of their privacy. The Hallorans, for reasons that had never been explained to him, did not wear bathing suits. No explanations were in order, really. Their nakedness was a detail in their uncompromising zeal 71 for reform and he stepped politely out of his trunks before he went through the opening in the hedge.
Mrs. Halloran, a stout 74 woman with white hair and a serene 75 face, was reading the Times. Mr. Halloran was taking beech leaves out of the water with a scoop 76. They seemed not surprised or displeased 77 to see him. Their pool was perhaps the oldest in the country, a fieldstone rectangle, fed by a brook 78. It had no filter or pump and its waters were the opaque 79 gold of the stream.
“I’m swimming across the county,” Ned said.
“Why, I didn’t know one could,” exclaimed Mrs. Halloran.
“Well, I’ve made it from the Westerhazys’,” Ned said. “That must be about four miles.”
He left his trunks at the deep end, walked to the shallow end, and swam this stretch. As he was pulling himself out of the water he heard Mrs. Halloran say, “We’ve been terribly sorry to hear about all your misfortunes, Neddy.”
“My misfortunes?” Ned asked. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Why, we heard that you’d sold the house and that your poor children …”
“I don’t recall having sold the house,” Ned said, “and the girls are at home.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Halloran sighed. “Yes …” Her voice filled the air with an unseasonable melancholy 80 and Ned spoke 81 briskly. “Thank you for the swim.”
“Well, have a nice trip,” said Mrs. Halloran.
Beyond the hedge he pulled on his trunks and fastened them. They were loose and he wondered if, during the space of an afternoon, he could have lost some weight. He was cold and he was tired and the naked Hallorans and their dark water had depressed 82 him. The swim was too much for his strength but how could he have guessed this, sliding down the banister that morning and sitting in the Westerhazys’ sun? His arms were lame 83. His legs felt rubbery and ached at the joints 84. The worst of it was the cold in his bones and the feeling that he might never be warm again. Leaves were falling down around him and he smelled wood smoke on the wind. Who would be burning wood at this time of year?
He needed a drink. Whiskey would warm him, pick him up, carry him through the last of his journey, refresh his feeling that it was original and valorous to swim across the county. Channel swimmers took brandy. He needed a stimulant 85. He crossed the lawn in front of the Hallorans’ house and went down a little path to where they had built a house for their only daughter, Helen, and her husband, Eric Sachs. The Sachses’ pool was small and he found Helen and her husband there.
“Oh, Neddy,” Helen said. “Did you lunch at Mother’s?”
“Not really,” Ned said. “I did stop to see your parents.” This seemed to be explanation enough. “I’m terribly sorry to break in on you like this but I’ve taken a chill and I wonder if you’d give me a drink.”
“Why, I’d love to,” Helen said, “but there hasn’t been anything in this house to drink since Eric’s operation. That was three years ago.”
Was he losing his memory, had his gift for concealing 86 painful facts let him forget that he had sold his house, that his children were in trouble, and that his friend had been ill? His eyes slipped from Eric’s face to his abdomen 87, where he saw three pale, sutured scars, two of them at least a foot long. Gone was his navel, and what, Neddy thought, would the roving hand, bed-checking one’s gifts at 3 A.M., make of a belly 88 with no navel, no link to birth, this breach in the succession?
“I’m sure you can get a drink at the Biswangers’,” Helen said. “They’re having an enormous do. You can hear it from here. Listen!”
She raised her head and from across the road, the lawns, the gardens, the woods, the fields, he heard again the brilliant noise of voices over water. “Well, I’ll get wet,” he said, still feeling that he had no freedom of choice about his means of travel. He dove into the Sachses’ cold water and, gasping 89, close to drowning, made his way from one end of the pool to the other. “Lucinda and I want terribly to see you,” he said over his shoulder, his face set toward the Biswangers’. “We’re sorry it’s been so long and we’ll call you very soon.”
He crossed some fields to the Biswangers’ and the sounds of revelry there. They would be honored to give him a drink, they would be happy to give him a drink. The Biswangers invited him and Lucinda for dinner four times a year, six weeks in advance. They were always rebuffed and yet they continued to send out their invitations, unwilling 90 to comprehend the rigid 91 and undemocratic realities of their society. They were the sort of people who discussed the price of things at cocktails 92, exchanged market tips during dinner, and after dinner told dirty stories to mixed company. They did not belong to Neddy’s set—they were not even on Lucinda’s Christmas-card list. He went toward their pool with feelings of indifference, charity, and some unease, since it seemed to be getting dark and these were the longest days of the year. The party when he joined it was noisy and large. Grace Biswanger was the kind of hostess who asked the optometrist 93, the veterinarian, the real-estate dealer 94, and the dentist. No one was swimming and the twilight 95, reflected on the water of the pool, had a wintry gleam. There was a bar and he started for this. When Grace Biswanger saw him she came toward him, not affectionately as he had every right to expect, but bellicosely.
“Why, this party has everything,” she said loudly, “including a gate crasher.”
She could not deal him a social blow—there was no question about this and he did not flinch 96. “As a gate crasher,” he asked politely, “do I rate a drink?”
“Suit yourself,” she said. “You don’t seem to pay much attention to invitations.”
She turned her back on him and joined some guests, and he went to the bar and ordered a whiskey. The bartender served him but he served him rudely. His was a world in which the caterer’s men kept the social score, and to be rebuffed by a part-time barkeep meant that he had suffered some loss of social esteem 97. Or perhaps the man was new and uninformed. Then he heard Grace at his back say: “They went for broke overnight—nothing but income—and he showed up drunk one Sunday and asked us to loan him five thousand dollars….” She was always talking about money. It was worse than eating your peas off a knife. He dove into the pool, swam its length and went away.
The next pool on his list, the last but two, belonged to his old mistress, Shirley Adams. If he had suffered any injuries at the Biswangers’ they would be cured here. Love—sexual roughhouse in fact—was the supreme 98 elixir 99, the pain killer 100, the brightly colored pill that would put the spring back into his step, the joy of life in his heart. They had had an affair last week, last month, last year. He couldn’t remember. It was he who had broken it off, his was the upper hand, and he stepped through the gate of the wall that surrounded her pool with nothing so considered as self-confidence. It seemed in a way to be his pool, as the lover, particularly the illicit 101 lover, enjoys the possessions of his mistress with an authority unknown to holy matrimony. She was there, her hair the color of brass 102, but her figure, at the edge of the lighted, cerulean water, excited in him no profound memories. It had been, he thought, a lighthearted affair, although she had wept when he broke it off. She seemed confused to see him and he wondered if she was still wounded. Would she, God forbid, weep again?
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I’m swimming across the county.”
“Good Christ. Will you ever grow up?”
“What’s the matter?”
“If you’ve come here for money,” she said, “I won’t give you another cent.”
“You could give me a drink.”
“I could but I won’t. I’m not alone.”
“Well, I’m on my way.”
He dove in and swam the pool, but when he tried to haul himself up onto the curb he found that the strength in his arms and shoulders had gone, and he paddled to the ladder and climbed out. Looking over his shoulder he saw, in the lighted bathhouse, a young man. Going out onto the dark lawn he smelled chrysanthemums 103 or marigolds—some stubborn autumnal fragrance—on the night air, strong as gas. Looking overhead he saw that the stars had come out, but why should he seem to see Andromeda, Cepheus, and Cassiopeia? What had become of the constellations 104 of midsummer? He began to cry.
It was probably the first time in his adult life that he had ever cried, certainly the first time in his life that he had ever felt so miserable 105, cold, tired, and bewildered. He could not understand the rudeness of the caterers barkeep or the rudeness of a mistress who had come to him on her knees and showered his trousers with tears. He had swum too long, he had been immersed too long, and his nose and his throat were sore from the water. What he needed then was a drink, some company, and some clean, dry clothes, and while he could have cut directly across the road to his home he went on to the Gilmartins’ pool, Here, for the first time in his life, he did not dive but went down the steps into the icy water and swam a hobbled sidestroke that he might have learned as a youth. He staggered with fatigue 106 on his way to the Clydes’ and paddled the length of their pool, stopping again and again with his hand on the curb to rest. He climbed up the ladder and wondered if he had the strength to get home. He had done what he wanted, he had swum the county, but he was so stupefied with exhaustion 107 that his triumph seemed vague. Stooped, holding on to the gateposts for support, he turned up the driveway of his own house.
The place was dark. Was it so late that they had all gone to bed? Had Lucinda stayed at the Westerhazys’ for supper? Had the girls joined her there or gone someplace else? Hadn’t they agreed, as they usually did on Sunday, to regret all their invitations and stay at home? He tried the garage doors to see what cars were in but the doors were locked and rust 22 came off the handles onto his hands. Going toward the house, he saw that the force of the thunderstorm had knocked one of the rain gutters 108 loose. It hung down over the front door like an umbrella rib 1, but it could be fixed 109 in the morning. The house was locked, and he thought that the stupid cook or the stupid maid must have locked the place up until he remembered that it had been some time since they had employed a maid or a cook. He shouted, pounded on the door, tried to force it with his shoulder, and then, looking in at the windows, saw that the place was empty.
n.肋骨,肋状物
- He broke a rib when he fell off his horse.他从马上摔下来折断了一根肋骨。
- He has broken a rib and the doctor has strapped it up.他断了一根肋骨,医生已包扎好了。
vt.拍,打,掴;咂嘴;vi.含有…意味;n.拍
- She gave him a smack on the face.她打了他一个嘴巴。
- I gave the fly a smack with the magazine.我用杂志拍了一下苍蝇。
adj.仁慈的;温和的
- A clement judge reduced his sentence.一位仁慈的法官为他减了刑。
- The planet's history contains many less stable and clement eras than the holocene.地球的历史包含着许多不如全新世稳定与温和的地质时期。
vt.吞咽,大口地吸(气);vi.哽住;n.吞咽
- She took down the tablets in one gulp.她把那些药片一口吞了下去。
- Don't gulp your food,chew it before you swallow it.吃东西不要狼吞虎咽,要嚼碎了再咽下去。
(机器、设备等的)构成要素,零件,成分; 成分( component的名词复数 ); [物理化学]组分; [数学]分量; (混合物的)组成部分
- the components of a machine 机器部件
- Our chemistry teacher often reduces a compound to its components in lab. 在实验室中化学老师常把化合物分解为各种成分。
adj.坚定的;有决心的
- I have determined on going to Tibet after graduation.我已决定毕业后去西藏。
- He determined to view the rooms behind the office.他决定查看一下办公室后面的房间。
adv.决意地;坚决地,坚定地
- "Don't shove me,'said one of the strikers, determinedly. "I'm not doing anything." “别推我,"其中的一个罢工工人坚决地说,"我可没干什么。” 来自英汉文学 - 嘉莉妹妹
- Dorothy's chin set determinedly as she looked calmly at him. 多萝西平静地看着他,下巴绷得紧紧的,看来是打定主意了。 来自名作英译部分
adj.传奇(中)的,闻名遐迩的;n.传奇(文学)
- Legendary stories are passed down from parents to children.传奇故事是由父母传给孩子们的。
- Odysseus was a legendary Greek hero.奥狄修斯是传说中的希腊英雄。
adj.无法解释的,难理解的
- It is now inexplicable how that development was misinterpreted.当时对这一事态发展的错误理解究竟是怎么产生的,现在已经无法说清楚了。
- There are many things which are inexplicable by science.有很多事科学还无法解释。
vt.猛投,力掷,声叫骂
- The best cure for unhappiness is to hurl yourself into your work.医治愁苦的最好办法就是全身心地投入工作。
- To hurl abuse is no way to fight.谩骂决不是战斗。
n.驯养,驯化
- The first was the domestication of animals. 第一个阶段是驯养动物。 来自《简明英汉词典》
- In northwestern China, there is no evidence for endemic domestication of any animals. 在中国西北,没有任何当地动物驯化的迹象。 来自辞典例句
adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 );撑牢;使自己站稳;振作起来
- They braced up the old house with balks of timber. 他们用梁木加固旧房子。 来自《简明英汉词典》
- The house has a wooden frame which is braced with brick. 这幢房子是木结构的砖瓦房。 来自《简明英汉词典》
把…吊起,升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 )
- He hoisted himself onto a high stool. 他抬身坐上了一张高凳子。
- The sailors hoisted the cargo onto the deck. 水手们把货物吊到甲板上。
n.场外证券市场,场外交易;vt.制止,抑制
- I could not curb my anger.我按捺不住我的愤怒。
- You must curb your daughter when you are in church.你在教堂时必须管住你的女儿。
n.征收税或其他款项,征收额
- They levy a tax on him.他们向他征税。
- A direct food levy was imposed by the local government.地方政府征收了食品税。
n.温和,仁慈,宽厚
- The question of clemency would rest with the King.宽大处理问题,将由国王决定。
- They addressed to the governor a plea for clemency.他们向州长提交了宽刑的申辨书。
adj.罕见的,非凡的,不平常的
- Such attitudes were not at all uncommon thirty years ago.这些看法在30年前很常见。
- Phil has uncommon intelligence.菲尔智力超群。
adj.好客的;宽容的;有利的,适宜的
- The man is very hospitable.He keeps open house for his friends and fellow-workers.那人十分好客,无论是他的朋友还是同事,他都盛情接待。
- The locals are hospitable and welcoming.当地人热情好客。
n.外交;外交手腕,交际手腕
- The talks have now gone into a stage of quiet diplomacy.会谈现在已经进入了“温和外交”阶段。
- This was done through the skill in diplomacy. 这是通过外交手腕才做到的。
adj.多刺的,棘手的
- The young captain is pondering over a thorny problem.年轻的上尉正在思考一个棘手的问题。
- The boys argued over the thorny points in the lesson.孩子们辩论功课中的难点。
n.锈;v.生锈;(脑子)衰退
- She scraped the rust off the kitchen knife.她擦掉了菜刀上的锈。
- The rain will rust the iron roof.雨水会使铁皮屋顶生锈。
adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的
- The lock on the door is rusty and won't open.门上的锁锈住了。
- I haven't practiced my French for months and it's getting rusty.几个月不用,我的法语又荒疏了。
n.青玉,蓝宝石;adj.天蓝色的
- Now let us consider crystals such as diamond or sapphire.现在让我们考虑象钻石和蓝宝石这样的晶体。
- He left a sapphire ring to her.他留给她一枚蓝宝石戒指。
n.集会,聚会,聚集
- He called on Mr. White to speak at the gathering.他请怀特先生在集会上讲话。
- He is on the wing gathering material for his novels.他正忙于为他的小说收集资料。
n./adj.滋补品,补药,强身的,健体的
- It will be marketed as a tonic for the elderly.这将作为老年人滋补品在市场上销售。
- Sea air is Nature's best tonic for mind and body.海上的空气是大自然赋予的对人们身心的最佳补品。
n.砂跞;砂砾层;结石
- We bought six bags of gravel for the garden path.我们购买了六袋碎石用来铺花园的小路。
- More gravel is needed to fill the hollow in the drive.需要更多的砾石来填平车道上的坑洼。
adj.有水的,水汪汪的;湿的,湿润的
- In his watery eyes there is an expression of distrust.他那含泪的眼睛流露出惊惶失措的神情。
- Her eyes became watery because of the smoke.因为烟熏,她的双眼变得泪汪汪的。
adj.盖满草的;长满草的
- They sat and had their lunch on a grassy hillside.他们坐在长满草的山坡上吃午饭。
- Cattle move freely across the grassy plain.牛群自由自在地走过草原。
n.钟声;v.鸣响
- The bells of the cathedral rang out their loud peal.大教堂响起了响亮的钟声。
- A sudden peal of thunder leaves no time to cover the ears.迅雷不及掩耳。
adj.省的,地方的;n.外省人,乡下人
- City dwellers think country folk have provincial attitudes.城里人以为乡下人思想迂腐。
- Two leading cadres came down from the provincial capital yesterday.昨天从省里下来了两位领导干部。
n.礼服,无尾礼服
- Well,you have your own tuxedo.噢,你有自己的燕尾服。
- Have I told you how amazing you look in this tuxedo?我告诉过你穿这件燕尾服看起来很棒吗?
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的
- The paintings were concealed beneath a thick layer of plaster. 那些画被隐藏在厚厚的灰泥层下面。
- I think he had a gun concealed about his person. 我认为他当时身上藏有一支枪。
n.矮子,侏儒,矮小的动植物;vt.使…矮小
- The dwarf's long arms were not proportional to his height.那侏儒的长臂与他的身高不成比例。
- The dwarf shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. 矮子耸耸肩膀,摇摇头。
adj.知识渊博的;有见识的
- He's quite knowledgeable about the theatre.他对戏剧很有心得。
- He made some knowledgeable remarks at the meeting.他在会上的发言颇有见地。
adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 );煽动;紧系;怒斥
- The rain lashed at the windows. 雨点猛烈地打在窗户上。
- The cleverly designed speech lashed the audience into a frenzy. 这篇精心设计的演说煽动听众使他们发狂。 来自《简明英汉词典》
n.槭树,枫树,槭木
- Maple sugar is made from the sap of maple trees.枫糖是由枫树的树液制成的。
- The maple leaves are tinge with autumn red.枫叶染上了秋天的红色。
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的
- Gathering up his scattered papers,he pushed them into his case.他把散乱的文件收拾起来,塞进文件夹里。
adj.枯萎的,摧毁的
- Blighted stems often canker.有病的茎往往溃烂。
- She threw away a blighted rose.她把枯萎的玫瑰花扔掉了。
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的
- He walks in a peculiar fashion.他走路的样子很奇特。
- He looked at me with a very peculiar expression.他用一种很奇怪的表情看着我。
拆开( dismantle的过去式和过去分词 ); 拆卸; 废除; 取消
- The plant was dismantled of all its equipment and furniture. 这家工厂的设备和家具全被拆除了。
- The Japanese empire was quickly dismantled. 日本帝国很快被打垮了。
n.违反,不履行;破裂;vt.冲破,攻破
- We won't have any breach of discipline.我们不允许任何破坏纪律的现象。
- He was sued for breach of contract.他因不履行合同而被起诉。
n.涂油防水布,防水衣,防水帽
- The pool furniture was folded,stacked,and covered with a tarpaulin.游泳池的设备都已经折叠起来,堆在那里,还盖上了防水布。
- The pool furniture was folded,stacked,and covered with a tarpaulin.游泳池的设备都已经折叠起来,堆在那里,还盖上了防水布。
n.镇压,抑制,抑压
- The repression of your true feelings is harmful to your health.压抑你的真实感情有害健康。
- This touched off a new storm against violent repression.这引起了反对暴力镇压的新风暴。
疑惧
- He stood in a mixture of desire and apprehensions. 他怀着渴望和恐惧交加的心情伫立着。
- But subsequent cases have removed many of these apprehensions. 然而,随后的案例又消除了许多类似的忧虑。
adj.阴天的,阴暗的,愁闷的;v.遮盖,(使)变暗,包边缝;n.覆盖,阴天
- The overcast and rainy weather found out his arthritis.阴雨天使他的关节炎发作了。
- The sky is overcast with dark clouds.乌云满天。
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎
- I was disappointed by his indifference more than somewhat.他的漠不关心使我很失望。
- He feigned indifference to criticism of his work.他假装毫不在意别人批评他的作品。
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。
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规
- Take off those foul clothes and let me wash them.脱下那些脏衣服让我洗一洗。
- What a foul day it is!多么恶劣的天气!
v.讥讽,挖苦;n.嘲弄
- You mustn't ridicule unfortunate people.你不该嘲笑不幸的人。
- Silly mistakes and queer clothes often arouse ridicule.荒谬的错误和古怪的服装常会引起人们的讪笑。
v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 )
- The police were jeered at by the waiting crowd. 警察受到在等待的人群的嘲弄。
- The crowd jeered when the boxer was knocked down. 当那个拳击手被打倒时,人们开始嘲笑他。 来自《简明英汉词典》
起誓,发誓(vow的过去式与过去分词形式)
- He vowed quite solemnly that he would carry out his promise. 他非常庄严地发誓要实现他的诺言。
- I vowed to do more of the cooking myself. 我发誓自己要多动手做饭。
n.冷酷无情,顽固,执拗
- Nuclear warhead has stronger obduracy which induces more effect on society. 具有较强顽固性的印度核弹头技术,造成了较大的社会影响。 来自互联网
adj.过敏的,敏感的;易动感情的,易受感动的
- Children are more susceptible than adults.孩子比成人易受感动。
- We are all susceptible to advertising.我们都易受广告的影响。
n.开玩笑,恶作剧;v.装饰;打扮;炫耀自己
- It was thought that the fire alarm had been set off as a prank.人们认为火警报警器响是个恶作剧。
- The dean was ranking the boys for pulling the prank.系主任正在惩罚那些恶作剧的男学生。
v.吸入( inhale的现在分词 )
- He was treated for the effects of inhaling smoke. 他因吸入烟尘而接受治疗。 来自辞典例句
- The long-term effects of inhaling contaminated air is unknown. 长期吸入被污染空气的影响还无从知晓。 来自互联网
n.光辉,辉煌,壮丽,(卓越的)才华,才智
- I was totally amazed by the brilliance of her paintings.她的绘画才能令我惊歎不已。
- The gorgeous costume added to the brilliance of the dance.华丽的服装使舞蹈更加光彩夺目。
n.(对可能发生的事)紧张感,担心,挂虑
- The suspense was unbearable.这样提心吊胆的状况实在叫人受不了。
- The director used ingenious devices to keep the audience in suspense.导演用巧妙手法引起观众的悬念。
adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫
- Whistles began to shrill outside the barn.哨声开始在谷仓外面尖叫。
- The shrill ringing of a bell broke up the card game on the cutter.刺耳的铃声打散了小汽艇的牌局。
n.编组团队;系统化,组织化
- They don't want equality and regimentation.他们不要一律平等和严密的组织。
- Discipline without regimentation was Miss Bulstrode's motto.既注意纪律,又不造成一律化,这就是布尔斯特罗德小姐的座右铭。
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息
- The forecast said there would be sunny intervals and showers. 预报间晴,有阵雨。
- Meetings take place at fortnightly intervals. 每两周开一次会。
n.(for)渴望
- Hearing the tune again sent waves of longing through her.再次听到那首曲子使她胸中充满了渴望。
- His heart burned with longing for revenge.他心中燃烧着急欲复仇的怒火。
adj.不流动的,停滞的,不景气的
- Due to low investment,industrial output has remained stagnant.由于投资少,工业生产一直停滞不前。
- Their national economy is stagnant.他们的国家经济停滞不前。
怒视,生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 )
- There she was, grey-suited, sweet-faced, demure, but scowling. 她就在那里,穿着灰色的衣服,漂亮的脸上显得严肃而忧郁。 来自英汉文学 - 嘉莉妹妹
- Scowling, Chueh-hui bit his lips. 他马上把眉毛竖起来。 来自汉英文学 - 家(1-26) - 家(1-26)
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。
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.山毛榉;adj.山毛榉的
- Autumn is the time to see the beech woods in all their glory.秋天是观赏山毛榉林的最佳时期。
- Exasperated,he leaped the stream,and strode towards beech clump.他满腔恼怒,跳过小河,大踏步向毛榉林子走去。
vt.取暖,晒太阳,沐浴于
- Turtles like to bask in the sun.海龟喜欢曝于阳光中。
- In winter afternoons,he likes to bask in the sun in his courtyard.冬日的午后,他喜欢坐在院子晒太阳。
n.热心,热情,热忱
- Revolutionary zeal caught them up,and they joined the army.革命热情激励他们,于是他们从军了。
- They worked with great zeal to finish the project.他们热情高涨地工作,以期完成这个项目。
adj.狂热的,热心的
- She made zealous efforts to clean up the classroom.她非常热心地努力清扫教室。
- She is a zealous supporter of our cause.她是我们事业的热心支持者。
n.颠覆,破坏
- He was arrested in parliament on charges of subversion for organizing the demonstration.他因组织示威活动在议会上被以颠覆破坏罪名逮捕。
- It had a cultural identity relatively immune to subversion from neighboring countries.它的文化同一性使它相对地不易被邻国所颠覆。
adj.强壮的,粗大的,结实的,勇猛的,矮胖的
- He cut a stout stick to help him walk.他砍了一根结实的枝条用来拄着走路。
- The stout old man waddled across the road.那肥胖的老人一跩一跩地穿过马路。
adj. 安详的,宁静的,平静的
- He has entered the serene autumn of his life.他已进入了美好的中年时期。
- He didn't speak much,he just smiled with that serene smile of his.他话不多,只是脸上露出他招牌式的淡定的微笑。
n.铲子,舀取,独家新闻;v.汲取,舀取,抢先登出
- In the morning he must get his boy to scoop it out.早上一定得叫佣人把它剜出来。
- Uh,one scoop of coffee and one scoop of chocolate for me.我要一勺咖啡的和一勺巧克力的。
a.不快的
- The old man was displeased and darted an angry look at me. 老人不高兴了,瞪了我一眼。
- He was displeased about the whole affair. 他对整个事情感到很不高兴。
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让
- In our room we could hear the murmur of a distant brook.在我们房间能听到远处小溪汩汩的流水声。
- The brook trickled through the valley.小溪涓涓流过峡谷。
adj.不透光的;不反光的,不传导的;晦涩的
- The windows are of opaque glass.这些窗户装着不透明玻璃。
- Their intentions remained opaque.他们的意图仍然令人费解。
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的
- All at once he fell into a state of profound melancholy.他立即陷入无尽的忧思之中。
- He felt melancholy after he failed the exam.这次考试没通过,他感到很郁闷。
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
- They sourced the spoke nuts from our company.他们的轮辐螺帽是从我们公司获得的。
- The spokes of a wheel are the bars that connect the outer ring to the centre.辐条是轮子上连接外圈与中心的条棒。
adj.沮丧的,抑郁的,不景气的,萧条的
- When he was depressed,he felt utterly divorced from reality.他心情沮丧时就感到完全脱离了现实。
- His mother was depressed by the sad news.这个坏消息使他的母亲意志消沉。
adj.跛的,(辩解、论据等)无说服力的
- The lame man needs a stick when he walks.那跛脚男子走路时需借助拐棍。
- I don't believe his story.It'sounds a bit lame.我不信他讲的那一套。他的话听起来有些靠不住。
接头( joint的名词复数 ); 关节; 公共场所(尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所) (非正式); 一块烤肉 (英式英语)
- Expansion joints of various kinds are fitted on gas mains. 各种各样的伸缩接头被安装在煤气的总管道上了。
- Expansion joints of various kinds are fitted on steam pipes. 各种各样的伸缩接头被安装在蒸气管道上了。
n.刺激物,兴奋剂
- It is used in medicine for its stimulant quality.由于它有兴奋剂的特性而被应用于医学。
- Musk is used for perfume and stimulant.麝香可以用作香料和兴奋剂。
v.隐藏,隐瞒,遮住( conceal的现在分词 )
- Despite his outward display of friendliness, I sensed he was concealing something. 尽管他表现得友善,我还是感觉到他有所隐瞒。 来自《简明英汉词典》
- SHE WAS BREAKING THE COMPACT, AND CONCEALING IT FROM HIM. 她违反了他们之间的约定,还把他蒙在鼓里。 来自英汉文学 - 三万元遗产
n.腹,下腹(胸部到腿部的部分)
- How to know to there is ascarid inside abdomen?怎样知道肚子里面有蛔虫?
- He was anxious about an off-and-on pain the abdomen.他因时隐时现的腹痛而焦虑。
n.肚子,腹部;(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分,膛
- The boss has a large belly.老板大腹便便。
- His eyes are bigger than his belly.他眼馋肚饱。
adj.不情愿的
- The natives were unwilling to be bent by colonial power.土著居民不愿受殖民势力的摆布。
- His tightfisted employer was unwilling to give him a raise.他那吝啬的雇主不肯给他加薪。
adj.严格的,死板的;刚硬的,僵硬的
- She became as rigid as adamant.她变得如顽石般的固执。
- The examination was so rigid that nearly all aspirants were ruled out.考试很严,几乎所有的考生都被淘汰了。
n.鸡尾酒( cocktail的名词复数 );餐前开胃菜;混合物
- Come about 4 o'clock. We'll have cocktails and grill steaks. 请四点钟左右来,我们喝鸡尾酒,吃烤牛排。 来自辞典例句
- Cocktails were a nasty American habit. 喝鸡尾酒是讨厌的美国习惯。 来自辞典例句
n.验光师,配镜师
- Where can I find a good optometrist?我在哪里能找一个好的验光师呢?
- If you need glasses,you should see an optometrist.若是你要配眼镜,你要找去验光师。
n.商人,贩子
- The dealer spent hours bargaining for the painting.那个商人为购买那幅画花了几个小时讨价还价。
- The dealer reduced the price for cash down.这家商店对付现金的人减价优惠。
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期
- Twilight merged into darkness.夕阳的光辉融于黑暗中。
- Twilight was sweet with the smell of lilac and freshly turned earth.薄暮充满紫丁香和新翻耕的泥土的香味。
v.畏缩,退缩
- She won't flinch from speaking her mind.她不会讳言自己的想法。
- We will never flinch from difficulties.我们面对困难决不退缩。
n.尊敬,尊重;vt.尊重,敬重;把…看作
- I did not esteem him to be worthy of trust.我认为他不值得信赖。
- The veteran worker ranks high in public love and esteem.那位老工人深受大伙的爱戴。
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的
- It was the supreme moment in his life.那是他一生中最重要的时刻。
- He handed up the indictment to the supreme court.他把起诉书送交最高法院。
n.长生不老药,万能药
- There is no elixir of life in the world.世界上没有长生不老药。
- Keep your mind awake and active;that's the only youth elixir.保持头脑清醒和灵活便是保持年轻的唯一灵丹妙药。
n.杀人者,杀人犯,杀手,屠杀者
- Heart attacks have become Britain's No.1 killer disease.心脏病已成为英国的头号致命疾病。
- The bulk of the evidence points to him as her killer.大量证据证明是他杀死她的。
adj.非法的,禁止的,不正当的
- He had an illicit association with Jane.他和简曾有过不正当关系。
- Seizures of illicit drugs have increased by 30% this year.今年违禁药品的扣押增长了30%。
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器
- Many of the workers play in the factory's brass band.许多工人都在工厂铜管乐队中演奏。
- Brass is formed by the fusion of copper and zinc.黄铜是通过铜和锌的熔合而成的。
n.菊花( chrysanthemum的名词复数 )
- The cold weather had most deleterious consequences among the chrysanthemums. 寒冷的天气对菊花产生了极有害的影响。 来自《简明英汉词典》
- The chrysanthemums are in bloom; some are red and some yellow. 菊花开了, 有红的,有黄的。 来自《现代汉英综合大词典》
n.星座( constellation的名词复数 );一群杰出人物;一系列(相关的想法、事物);一群(相关的人)
- The map of the heavens showed all the northern constellations. 这份天体图标明了北半部所有的星座。 来自《简明英汉词典》
- His time was coming, he would move in the constellations of power. 他时来运转,要进入权力中心了。 来自教父部分
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的
- It was miserable of you to make fun of him.你取笑他,这是可耻的。
- Her past life was miserable.她过去的生活很苦。
n.疲劳,劳累
- The old lady can't bear the fatigue of a long journey.这位老妇人不能忍受长途旅行的疲劳。
- I have got over my weakness and fatigue.我已从虚弱和疲劳中恢复过来了。
n.耗尽枯竭,疲惫,筋疲力尽,竭尽,详尽无遗的论述
- She slept the sleep of exhaustion.她因疲劳而酣睡。
- His exhaustion was obvious when he fell asleep standing.他站着睡着了,显然是太累了。
(路边)排水沟( gutter的名词复数 ); 阴沟; (屋顶的)天沟; 贫贱的境地
- Gutters lead the water into the ditch. 排水沟把水排到这条水沟里。
- They were born, they grew up in the gutters. 他们生了下来,以后就在街头长大。