章节正文
the forehead, Sundays.'--'Are you afraid of him?'--'Ah, no, no; isn't
he my godfather? he wouldn't have anybody but me bring him his food.'
Perotte declares that he smiles when she comes; but you might as well
say the sun shines in a fog; he's as gloomy as a cloudy day."
"But," I said to him, "you excite our curiosity without satisfying it.
Do you know what brought him there? Was it grief, or repentance" target="_blank" title="n.悔悟，悔改；忏悔">repentance; is it
a mania; is it crime, is it--"
"Eh, monsieur, there's no one but my father and I who know the real
truth. My late mother was servant in the family of a lawyer to whom
Cambremer told all by order of the priest, who wouldn't give him
absolution until he had done so--at least, that's what the folks of
the port say. My poor mother overheard Cambremer without trying to;
the lawyer's kitchen was close to the office, and that's how she
heard. She's dead, and so is the lawyer. My mother made us promise, my
father and I, not to talk about the matter to the folks of the
neighborhood; but I can tell you my hair stood on end the night she
told us the tale."
"Well, my man, tell it to us now, and we won't speak of it."
The fisherman looked at us; then he continued:
"Pierre Cambremer, whom you have seen there, is the eldest of the
Cambremers, who from father to son have always been sailors; their
name says it--the sea bends under them. Pierre was a deep-sea
fisherman. He had boats, and fished for sardine, also for the big
fishes, and sold them to dealers. He'd have charted a large vessel and
trawled for cod if he hadn't loved his wife so much; she was a fine
woman, a Brouin of Guerande, with a good heart. She loved Cambremer so
much that she couldn't bear to have her man leave her for longer than
to fish sardine. They lived over there, look!" said the fisherman,
going up a hillock to show us an island in the little Mediterranean
between the dunes where we were walking and the marshes of Guerande.
"You can see the house from here. It belonged to him. Jacquette Brouin
and Cambremer had only one son, a lad they loved--how shall I say?--
well, they loved him like an only child, they were mad about him. How
many times we have seen them at fairs buying all sorts of things to
please him; it was out of all reason the way they indulged him, and so
folks told them. The little Cambremer, seeing that he was never
thwarted, grew as vicious as a red ass. When they told pere Cambremer,
'Your son has nearly killed little such a one,' he would laugh and
say: 'Bah! he'll be a bold sailor; he'll command the king's fleets.'--
Another time, 'Pierre Cambremer, did you know your lad very nearly put
out the eye of the little Pougard girl?'--'Ha! he'll like the girls,'
said Pierre. Nothing troubled him. At ten years old the little cur
fought everybody, and amused himself with cutting the hens' necks off
and ripping up the pigs; in fact, you might say he wallowed in blood.
'He'll be a famous soldier,' said Cambremer, 'he's got the taste of
blood.' Now, you see," said the fisherman, "I can look back and
remember all that--and Cambremer, too," he added, after a pause. "By
the time Jacques Cambremer was fifteen or sixteen years of age he had
come to be--what shall I say?--a shark. He amused himself at Guerande,
and was after the girls at Savenay. Then he wanted money. He robbed
his mother, who didn't dare say a word to his father. Cambremer was an
honest man who'd have tramped fifty miles to return two sous that any
one had overpaid him on a bill. At last, one day the mother was robbed
of everything. During one of his father's fishing-trips Jacques
carried off all she had, furniture, pots and pans, sheets, linen,
everything; he sold it to go to Nantes and carry on his capers there.
The poor mother wept day and night. This time it couldn't be hidden
from the father, and she feared him--not for herself, you may be sure
of that. When Pierre Cambremer came back and saw furniture in his
house which the neighbors had lent to his wife, he said,--
"'What is all this?'
"The poor woman, more dead than alive, replied:
"'We have been robbed.'
"'Where is Jacques?'
"'Jacques is off amusing himself.'
"No one knew where the scoundrel was.
"'He amuses himself too much,' said Pierre.
"Six months later the poor father heard that his son was about to be
arrested in Nantes. He walked there on foot, which is faster than by
sea, put his hands on his son, and compelled him to return home. Once
here, he did not ask him, 'What have you done?' but he said:--
"'If you do not conduct yourself properly at home with your mother and
me, and go fishing, and behave like an honest man, you and I will have
a reckoning.'
"The crazy fellow, counting on his parent's folly, made a face; on
which Pierre struck him a blow which sent Jacques to his bed for six
weeks. The poor mother nearly died of grief. One night, as she was
fast asleep beside her husband, a noise awoke her; she rose up
quickly, and was stabbed in the arm with a knife. She cried out loud,
and when Pierre Cambremer struck a light and saw his wife wounded, he
thought it was the doing of robbers,--as if we ever had any in these
parts, where you might carry ten thousand francs in gold from Croisic
to Saint-Nazaire without ever being asked what you had in your arms.
Pierre looked for his son, but he could not find him. In the morning,
if that monster didn't have the face to come home, saying he had
stayed at Batz all night! I should tell you that the mother had not
known where to hide her money. Cambremer put his with Monsieur Dupotel
at Croisic. Their son's follies had by this time cost them so much
that they were half-ruined, and that was hard for folks who once had
twelve thousand francs, and who owned their island. No one ever knew
what Cambremer paid at Nantes to get his son away from there. Bad luck
seemed to follow the family. Troubles fell upon Cambremer's brother,
he needed help. Pierre said, to console him, that Jacques and Perotte
(the brother's daughter) could be married. Then, to help Joseph
Cambremer to earn his bread, Pierre took him with him a-fishing; for
the poor man was now obliged to live by his daily labor. His wife was
dead of the fever, and money was owing for Perotte's nursing. The wife
of Pierre Cambremer owed about one hundred francs to divers persons
for the little girl,--linen, clothes, and what not,--and it so chanced
that she had sewed a bit of Spanish gold into her mattress for a nest-
egg toward paying off that money. It was wrapped in paper, and on the
paper was written by her: 'For Perotte.' Jacquette Brouin had had a
fine education; she could write like a clerk, and had taught her son
to write too. I can't tell you how it was that the villain scented the
gold, stole it, and went off to Croisic to enjoy himself. Pierre
Cambremer, as if it was ordained, came back that day in his boat; as
he landed he saw a bit of paper floating in the water, and he picked
it up, looked at it, and carried it to his wife, who fell down as if
dead, seeing her own writing. Cambremer said nothing, but he went to
Croisic, and heard that his son was in a billiard room; so then he
went to the mistress of the cafe, and said to her:--
"'I told Jacques not to use a piece of gold with which he will pay
you; give it back to me, and I'll give you white money in place of
it.'
"The good woman did as she was told. Cambremer took the money and just
said 'Good,' and then he went home. So far, all the town knows that;
but now comes what I alone know, though others have always had some
suspicion of it. As I say, Cambremer came home; he told his wife to
clean up their chamber, which is on the lower floor; he made a fire,
lit two candles, placed two chairs on one side of the hearth, and a
stool on the other. Then he told his wife to bring him his wedding-
clothes, and ordered her to put on hers. He dressed himself. When
dressed, he fetched his brother, and told him to watch before the
door, and warn him of any noise on either of the beaches,--that of
Croisic, or that of Guerande. Then he loaded a gun, and placed it at a
corner of the fireplace. Jacques came home late; he had drunk and
gambled till ten o'clock, and had to get back by way of the Carnouf
point. His uncle heard his hail, and he went over and fetched him, but
said nothing. When Jacques entered the house, his father said to
him,--
"'Sit there,' pointing to the stool. 'You are,' he said, 'before your
father and mother, whom you have offended, and who will now judge
you.'
"At this Jacques began to howl, for his father's face was all
distorted. His mother was rigid as an oar.
"'If you shout, if you stir, if you do not sit still on that stool,'
said Pierre, aiming the gun at him, 'I will shoot you like a dog.'
"Jacques was mute as a fish. The mother said nothing.
"'Here,' said Pierre, 'is a piece of paper which wrapped a Spanish
gold piece. That piece of gold was in your mother's bed; she alone
knew where it was. I found that paper in the water when I landed here
to-day. You gave a piece of Spanish gold this night to Mere Fleurant,
and your mother's piece is no longer in her bed. Explain all this.'
"Jacques said he had not taken his mother's money, and that the gold
piece was one he had brought from Nantes.
"'I am glad of it,' said Pierre; 'now prove it.'
"'I had it all along.'
"'You did not take the gold piece belonging to your mother?'
"'No.'
"'Will you swear it on your eternal life?'
"He was about to swear; his mother raised her eyes to him, and said:--
"'Jacques, my child, take care; do not swear if it is not true; you
can repent, you can amend; there is still time.'
"And she wept.
"'You are a this and a that,' he said; 'you have always wanted to ruin
me.'
"Cambremer turned white and said,--
"'Such language to your mother increases your crime. Come, to the
point! Will you swear?'
"'Yes.'
"'Then,' Pierre said, 'was there upon your gold piece the little cross
which the sardine merchant who paid it to me scratched on ours?'
"Jacques broke down and wept.
"'Enough,' said Pierre. 'I shall not speak to you of the crimes you
have committed before this. I do not choose that a Cambremer should
die on a scaffold. Say your prayers and make haste. A priest is coming
to confess you.'
"The mother had left the room; she could not hear her son condemned.
After she had gone, Joseph Cambremer, the uncle, brought in the rector
of Piriac, to whom Jacques would say nothing. He was shrewd; he knew
his father would not kill him until he had made his confession.
"'Thank you, and excuse us,' said Cambremer to the priest, when he saw
Jacques' obstinacy. 'I wished to give a lesson to my son, and will ask
you to say nothing about it. As for you,' he said to Jacques, 'if you
do not amend, the next offence you commit will be your last; I shall
end it without confession.'
"And he sent him to bed. The lad thought he could still get round his
father. He slept. His father watched. When he saw that his son was
soundly asleep, he covered his mouth with tow, blindfolded him
tightly, bound him hand and foot--'He raged, he wept blood,' my mother
heard Cambremer say to the lawyer. The mother threw herself at the
father's feet.
"'He is judged and condemned,' replied Pierre; 'you must now help me
carry him to the boat.'
"She refused; and Cambremer carried him alone; he laid him in the
bottom of the boat, tied a stone to his neck, took the oars and rowed
out of the cove to the open sea, till he came to the rock where he now
is. When the poor mother, who had come up here with her brother-in-
law, cried out, 'Mercy, mercy!' it was like throwing a stone at a
wolf. There was a moon, and she saw the father casting her son into
the water; her son, the child of her womb, and as there was no wind,
she heard BLOUF! and then nothing--neither sound nor bubble. Ah! the
sea is a fine keeper of what it gets. Rowing inshore to stop his
wife's cries, Cambremer found her half-dead. The two brothers couldn't
carry her the whole distance home, so they had to put her into the
boat which had just served to kill her son, and they rowed back round
the tower by the channel of Croisic. Well, well! the belle Brouin, as
they called her, didn't last a week. She died begging her husband to
burn that accursed boat. Oh, he did it! As for him, he became I don't
know what; he staggered about like a man who can't carry his wine.
Then he went away and was gone ten days, and after he returned he put
he my godfather? he wouldn't have anybody but me bring him his food.'
Perotte declares that he smiles when she comes; but you might as well
say the sun shines in a fog; he's as gloomy as a cloudy day."
"But," I said to him, "you excite our curiosity without satisfying it.
Do you know what brought him there? Was it grief, or repentance" target="_blank" title="n.悔悟，悔改；忏悔">repentance; is it
a mania; is it crime, is it--"
"Eh, monsieur, there's no one but my father and I who know the real
truth. My late mother was servant in the family of a lawyer to whom
Cambremer told all by order of the priest, who wouldn't give him
absolution until he had done so--at least, that's what the folks of
the port say. My poor mother overheard Cambremer without trying to;
the lawyer's kitchen was close to the office, and that's how she
heard. She's dead, and so is the lawyer. My mother made us promise, my
father and I, not to talk about the matter to the folks of the
neighborhood; but I can tell you my hair stood on end the night she
told us the tale."
"Well, my man, tell it to us now, and we won't speak of it."
The fisherman looked at us; then he continued:
"Pierre Cambremer, whom you have seen there, is the eldest of the
Cambremers, who from father to son have always been sailors; their
name says it--the sea bends under them. Pierre was a deep-sea
fisherman. He had boats, and fished for sardine, also for the big
fishes, and sold them to dealers. He'd have charted a large vessel and
trawled for cod if he hadn't loved his wife so much; she was a fine
woman, a Brouin of Guerande, with a good heart. She loved Cambremer so
much that she couldn't bear to have her man leave her for longer than
to fish sardine. They lived over there, look!" said the fisherman,
going up a hillock to show us an island in the little Mediterranean
between the dunes where we were walking and the marshes of Guerande.
"You can see the house from here. It belonged to him. Jacquette Brouin
and Cambremer had only one son, a lad they loved--how shall I say?--
well, they loved him like an only child, they were mad about him. How
many times we have seen them at fairs buying all sorts of things to
please him; it was out of all reason the way they indulged him, and so
folks told them. The little Cambremer, seeing that he was never
thwarted, grew as vicious as a red ass. When they told pere Cambremer,
'Your son has nearly killed little such a one,' he would laugh and
say: 'Bah! he'll be a bold sailor; he'll command the king's fleets.'--
Another time, 'Pierre Cambremer, did you know your lad very nearly put
out the eye of the little Pougard girl?'--'Ha! he'll like the girls,'
said Pierre. Nothing troubled him. At ten years old the little cur
fought everybody, and amused himself with cutting the hens' necks off
and ripping up the pigs; in fact, you might say he wallowed in blood.
'He'll be a famous soldier,' said Cambremer, 'he's got the taste of
blood.' Now, you see," said the fisherman, "I can look back and
remember all that--and Cambremer, too," he added, after a pause. "By
the time Jacques Cambremer was fifteen or sixteen years of age he had
come to be--what shall I say?--a shark. He amused himself at Guerande,
and was after the girls at Savenay. Then he wanted money. He robbed
his mother, who didn't dare say a word to his father. Cambremer was an
honest man who'd have tramped fifty miles to return two sous that any
one had overpaid him on a bill. At last, one day the mother was robbed
of everything. During one of his father's fishing-trips Jacques
carried off all she had, furniture, pots and pans, sheets, linen,
everything; he sold it to go to Nantes and carry on his capers there.
The poor mother wept day and night. This time it couldn't be hidden
from the father, and she feared him--not for herself, you may be sure
of that. When Pierre Cambremer came back and saw furniture in his
house which the neighbors had lent to his wife, he said,--
"'What is all this?'
"The poor woman, more dead than alive, replied:
"'We have been robbed.'
"'Where is Jacques?'
"'Jacques is off amusing himself.'
"No one knew where the scoundrel was.
"'He amuses himself too much,' said Pierre.
"Six months later the poor father heard that his son was about to be
arrested in Nantes. He walked there on foot, which is faster than by
sea, put his hands on his son, and compelled him to return home. Once
here, he did not ask him, 'What have you done?' but he said:--
"'If you do not conduct yourself properly at home with your mother and
me, and go fishing, and behave like an honest man, you and I will have
a reckoning.'
"The crazy fellow, counting on his parent's folly, made a face; on
which Pierre struck him a blow which sent Jacques to his bed for six
weeks. The poor mother nearly died of grief. One night, as she was
fast asleep beside her husband, a noise awoke her; she rose up
quickly, and was stabbed in the arm with a knife. She cried out loud,
and when Pierre Cambremer struck a light and saw his wife wounded, he
thought it was the doing of robbers,--as if we ever had any in these
parts, where you might carry ten thousand francs in gold from Croisic
to Saint-Nazaire without ever being asked what you had in your arms.
Pierre looked for his son, but he could not find him. In the morning,
if that monster didn't have the face to come home, saying he had
stayed at Batz all night! I should tell you that the mother had not
known where to hide her money. Cambremer put his with Monsieur Dupotel
at Croisic. Their son's follies had by this time cost them so much
that they were half-ruined, and that was hard for folks who once had
twelve thousand francs, and who owned their island. No one ever knew
what Cambremer paid at Nantes to get his son away from there. Bad luck
seemed to follow the family. Troubles fell upon Cambremer's brother,
he needed help. Pierre said, to console him, that Jacques and Perotte
(the brother's daughter) could be married. Then, to help Joseph
Cambremer to earn his bread, Pierre took him with him a-fishing; for
the poor man was now obliged to live by his daily labor. His wife was
dead of the fever, and money was owing for Perotte's nursing. The wife
of Pierre Cambremer owed about one hundred francs to divers persons
for the little girl,--linen, clothes, and what not,--and it so chanced
that she had sewed a bit of Spanish gold into her mattress for a nest-
egg toward paying off that money. It was wrapped in paper, and on the
paper was written by her: 'For Perotte.' Jacquette Brouin had had a
fine education; she could write like a clerk, and had taught her son
to write too. I can't tell you how it was that the villain scented the
gold, stole it, and went off to Croisic to enjoy himself. Pierre
Cambremer, as if it was ordained, came back that day in his boat; as
he landed he saw a bit of paper floating in the water, and he picked
it up, looked at it, and carried it to his wife, who fell down as if
dead, seeing her own writing. Cambremer said nothing, but he went to
Croisic, and heard that his son was in a billiard room; so then he
went to the mistress of the cafe, and said to her:--
"'I told Jacques not to use a piece of gold with which he will pay
you; give it back to me, and I'll give you white money in place of
it.'
"The good woman did as she was told. Cambremer took the money and just
said 'Good,' and then he went home. So far, all the town knows that;
but now comes what I alone know, though others have always had some
suspicion of it. As I say, Cambremer came home; he told his wife to
clean up their chamber, which is on the lower floor; he made a fire,
lit two candles, placed two chairs on one side of the hearth, and a
stool on the other. Then he told his wife to bring him his wedding-
clothes, and ordered her to put on hers. He dressed himself. When
dressed, he fetched his brother, and told him to watch before the
door, and warn him of any noise on either of the beaches,--that of
Croisic, or that of Guerande. Then he loaded a gun, and placed it at a
corner of the fireplace. Jacques came home late; he had drunk and
gambled till ten o'clock, and had to get back by way of the Carnouf
point. His uncle heard his hail, and he went over and fetched him, but
said nothing. When Jacques entered the house, his father said to
him,--
"'Sit there,' pointing to the stool. 'You are,' he said, 'before your
father and mother, whom you have offended, and who will now judge
you.'
"At this Jacques began to howl, for his father's face was all
distorted. His mother was rigid as an oar.
"'If you shout, if you stir, if you do not sit still on that stool,'
said Pierre, aiming the gun at him, 'I will shoot you like a dog.'
"Jacques was mute as a fish. The mother said nothing.
"'Here,' said Pierre, 'is a piece of paper which wrapped a Spanish
gold piece. That piece of gold was in your mother's bed; she alone
knew where it was. I found that paper in the water when I landed here
to-day. You gave a piece of Spanish gold this night to Mere Fleurant,
and your mother's piece is no longer in her bed. Explain all this.'
"Jacques said he had not taken his mother's money, and that the gold
piece was one he had brought from Nantes.
"'I am glad of it,' said Pierre; 'now prove it.'
"'I had it all along.'
"'You did not take the gold piece belonging to your mother?'
"'No.'
"'Will you swear it on your eternal life?'
"He was about to swear; his mother raised her eyes to him, and said:--
"'Jacques, my child, take care; do not swear if it is not true; you
can repent, you can amend; there is still time.'
"And she wept.
"'You are a this and a that,' he said; 'you have always wanted to ruin
me.'
"Cambremer turned white and said,--
"'Such language to your mother increases your crime. Come, to the
point! Will you swear?'
"'Yes.'
"'Then,' Pierre said, 'was there upon your gold piece the little cross
which the sardine merchant who paid it to me scratched on ours?'
"Jacques broke down and wept.
"'Enough,' said Pierre. 'I shall not speak to you of the crimes you
have committed before this. I do not choose that a Cambremer should
die on a scaffold. Say your prayers and make haste. A priest is coming
to confess you.'
"The mother had left the room; she could not hear her son condemned.
After she had gone, Joseph Cambremer, the uncle, brought in the rector
of Piriac, to whom Jacques would say nothing. He was shrewd; he knew
his father would not kill him until he had made his confession.
"'Thank you, and excuse us,' said Cambremer to the priest, when he saw
Jacques' obstinacy. 'I wished to give a lesson to my son, and will ask
you to say nothing about it. As for you,' he said to Jacques, 'if you
do not amend, the next offence you commit will be your last; I shall
end it without confession.'
"And he sent him to bed. The lad thought he could still get round his
father. He slept. His father watched. When he saw that his son was
soundly asleep, he covered his mouth with tow, blindfolded him
tightly, bound him hand and foot--'He raged, he wept blood,' my mother
heard Cambremer say to the lawyer. The mother threw herself at the
father's feet.
"'He is judged and condemned,' replied Pierre; 'you must now help me
carry him to the boat.'
"She refused; and Cambremer carried him alone; he laid him in the
bottom of the boat, tied a stone to his neck, took the oars and rowed
out of the cove to the open sea, till he came to the rock where he now
is. When the poor mother, who had come up here with her brother-in-
law, cried out, 'Mercy, mercy!' it was like throwing a stone at a
wolf. There was a moon, and she saw the father casting her son into
the water; her son, the child of her womb, and as there was no wind,
she heard BLOUF! and then nothing--neither sound nor bubble. Ah! the
sea is a fine keeper of what it gets. Rowing inshore to stop his
wife's cries, Cambremer found her half-dead. The two brothers couldn't
carry her the whole distance home, so they had to put her into the
boat which had just served to kill her son, and they rowed back round
the tower by the channel of Croisic. Well, well! the belle Brouin, as
they called her, didn't last a week. She died begging her husband to
burn that accursed boat. Oh, he did it! As for him, he became I don't
know what; he staggered about like a man who can't carry his wine.
Then he went away and was gone ten days, and after he returned he put
- forehead [´fɔrid]
n.额，前部 (初中英语单词) - excite [ik´sait] vt.激动；引起，招惹 (初中英语单词)
- curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti] n.好奇；奇事；珍品 (初中英语单词)
- monsieur [mə´sjə:] n.先生 (初中英语单词)
- lawyer [´lɔ:jə] n.律师；法学家 (初中英语单词)
- priest [pri:st] n.教士；牧师；神父 (初中英语单词)
- fisherman [´fiʃəmən] n.渔民，渔夫，打鱼人 (初中英语单词)
- vessel [´vesəl] n.容器；船；脉管 (初中英语单词)
- properly [´prɔpəli] ad.适当地；严格地 (初中英语单词)
- behave [bi´heiv] v.举止；表现；举止端正 (初中英语单词)
- monster [´mɔnstə] n.怪物 a.大得异常的 (初中英语单词)
- writing [´raitiŋ] n.书写；写作；书法 (初中英语单词)
- mistress [´mistris] n.女主人；情妇；女能手 (初中英语单词)
- eternal [i´tə:nəl] a.永远的；永恒的 (初中英语单词)
- confess [kən´fes] vt.供认；坦白；承认 (初中英语单词)
- commit [kə´mit] vt.犯(罪)；把...判处 (初中英语单词)
- bubble [´bʌbəl] n.水泡 vi.冒泡；沸腾 (初中英语单词)
- keeper [´ki:pə] n.管理人；看守；保管人 (初中英语单词)
- channel [´tʃænəl] n.海峡；航道；途径 (初中英语单词)
- gloomy [´glu:mi] a.昏暗的；忧郁的 (高中英语单词)
- eldest [´eldist] a.最年长的 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- amusing [ə´mju:ziŋ] a.有趣的 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- mattress [´mætris] n.床垫 (高中英语单词)
- chamber [´tʃeimbə] n.房间；议院；会议室 (高中英语单词)
- hearth [hɑ:θ] n.炉边；家庭(生活) (高中英语单词)
- fireplace [´faiəpleis] n.壁炉，炉灶 (高中英语单词)
- repent [ri´pent] v.后悔；悔改；悔悟 (高中英语单词)
- shrewd [ʃru:d] a.精明的；狡猾的 (高中英语单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- vicious [´viʃəs] a.不道德的；刻毒的 (英语四级单词)
- fishing [´fiʃiŋ] n.钓鱼；捕鱼；渔业 (英语四级单词)
- console [kən´səul] vt.安慰；慰问 (英语四级单词)
- villain [´vilən] n.坏人；恶棍；反面角色 (英语四级单词)
- accursed [ə´kə:sid] a.被诅咒的；可憎的 (英语四级单词)
- repentance [ri´pentəns] n.悔悟，悔改；忏悔 (英语六级单词)
- scoundrel [´skaundrəl] n.&a.无赖(的) (英语六级单词)
- divers [´daivə(:)z] a.&pron.若干个 (英语六级单词)
- obstinacy [´ɔbstinəsi] n.顽固；(病痛等)难治 (英语六级单词)
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