章节正文
The news that Daisy Miller was surrounded by half a dozen wonderful
mustaches checked Winterbourne's impulse to go straightway to see her.
He had, perhaps, not definitely flattered himself that he had made
an ineffaceable impression upon her heart, but he was annoyed at hearing
of a state of affairs so little in harmony with an image that had lately
flitted in and out of his own meditations; the image of a very pretty
girl looking out of an old Roman window and asking herself urgently
when Mr. Winterbourne would arrive. If, however, he determined to wait
a little before reminding Miss Miller of his claims to her consideration,
he went very soon to call upon two or three other friends.
One of these friends was an American lady who had spent several
winters at Geneva, where she had placed her children at school.
She was a very accomplished woman, and she lived in the Via Gregoriana.
Winterbourne found her in a little crimsondrawing room on a third floor;
the room was filled with southern sunshine. He had not been there ten minutes
when the servant came in, announcing "Madame Mila!" This announcement
was presently followed by the entrance of little Randolph Miller,
who stopped in the middle of the room and stood staring at Winterbourne.
An instant later his pretty sister crossed the threshold; and then,
after a considerableinterval, Mrs. Miller slowly advanced.
"I know you!" said Randolph.
"I'm sure you know a great many things," exclaimed Winterbourne,
taking him by the hand. "How is your education coming on?"
Daisy was exchanging greetings very prettily with her hostess,
but when she heard Winterbourne's voice she quickly turned her head.
"Well, I declare!" she said.
"I told you I should come, you know," Winterbourne rejoined, smiling.
"Well, I didn't believe it," said Miss Daisy.
"I am much obliged to you," laughed the young man.
"You might have come to see me!" said Daisy.
"I arrived only yesterday."
"I don't believe tte that!" the young girl declared.
Winterbourne turned with a protesting smile to her mother, but this
lady evaded his glance, and, seating herself, fixed her eyes upon
her son. "We've got a bigger place than this," said Randolph.
"It's all gold on the walls."
Mrs. Miller turned uneasily in her chair. "I told you if I were to bring you,
you would say something!" she murmured.
"I told YOU!" Randolph exclaimed. "I tell YOU, sir!"
he added jocosely, giving Winterbourne a thump on the knee.
"It IS bigger, too!"
Daisy had entered upon a lively conversation with her hostess;
Winterbourne judged it becoming to address a few words to her mother.
"I hope you have been well since we parted at Vevey," he said.
Mrs. Miller now certainly looked at him--at his chin.
"Not very well, sir," she answered.
"She's got the dyspepsia," said Randolph. "I've got it too.
Father's got it. I've got it most!"
This announcement, instead of embarrassing Mrs. Miller,
seemed to relieve her. "I suffer from the liver," she said.
"I think it's this climate; it's less bracing than Schenectady,
especially in the winter season. I don't know whether you know
we reside at Schenectady. I was saying to Daisy that I certainly
hadn't found any one like Dr. Davis, and I didn't believe I should.
Oh, at Schenectady he stands first; they think everything of him.
He has so much to do, and yet there was nothing he wouldn't do for me.
He said he never saw anything like my dyspepsia, but he was
bound to cure it. I'm sure there was nothing he wouldn't try.
He was just going to try something new when we came off.
Mr. Miller wanted Daisy to see Europe for herself. But I wrote to
Mr. Miller that it seems as if I couldn't get on without Dr. Davis.
At Schenectady he stands at the very top; and there's a great deal
of sickness there, too. It affects my sleep."
Winterbourne had a good deal of pathological gossip with Dr. Davis's patient,
during which Daisy chattered unremittingly to her own companion.
The young man asked Mrs. Miller how she was pleased with Rome.
"Well, I must say I am disappointed," she answered. "We had heard so much
about it; I suppose we had heard too much. But we couldn't help that.
We had been led to expect something different."
"Ah, wait a little, and you will become very fond of it," said Winterbourne.
"I hate it worse and worse every day!" cried Randolph.
"You are like the infant Hannibal," said Winterbourne.
"No, I ain't!" Randolph declared at a venture.
"You are not much like an infant," said his mother. "But we have
seen places," she resumed, "that I should put a long way before Rome."
And in reply to Winterbourne's interrogation, "There's Zurich,"
she concluded, "I think Zurich is lovely; and we hadn't heard half
so much about it."
"The best place we've seen is the City of Richmond!" said Randolph.
"He means the ship," his mother explained. "We crossed in that ship.
Randolph had a good time on the City of Richmond."
"It's the best place I've seen," the child repeated.
"Only it was turned the wrong way."
"Well, we've got to turn the right way some time,"
said Mrs. Miller with a little laugh. Winterbourne expressed
the hope that her daughter at least found some gratification
in Rome, and she declared that Daisy was quite carried away.
"It's on account of the society--the society's splendid.
She goes round everywhere; she has made a great number
of acquaintances. Of course she goes round more than I do.
I must say they have been very sociable; they have taken
her right in. And then she knows a great many gentlemen.
Oh, she thinks there's nothing like Rome. Of course,
it's a great deal pleasanter for a young lady if she knows
plenty of gentlemen."
By this time Daisy had turned her attention again to Winterbourne.
"I've been telling Mrs. Walker how mean you were!" the young girl announced.
"And what is the evidence you have offered?" asked Winterbourne,
rather annoyed at Miss Miller's want of appreciation of the zeal of
an admirer who on his way down to Rome had stopped neither at Bologna
nor at Florence, simply because of a certain sentimental impatience.
He remembered that a cynical compatriot had once told him that
American women--the pretty ones, and this gave a largeness to the axiom--
were at once the most exacting in the world and the least endowed
with a sense of indebtedness.
"Why, you were awfully mean at Vevey," said Daisy.
"You wouldn't do anything. You wouldn't stay there when
I asked you."
"My dearest young lady," cried Winterbourne, with eloquence,
"have I come all the way to Rome to encounter your reproaches?"
"Just hear him say that!" said Daisy to her hostess, giving a twist to a bow
on this lady's dress. "Did you ever hear anything so quaint?"
"So quaint, my dear?" murmured Mrs. Walker in the tone of a
partisan of Winterbourne.
"Well, I don't know," said Daisy, fingering Mrs. Walker's ribbons.
"Mrs. Walker, I want to tell you something."
"Mother-r," interposed Randolph, with his rough ends to his words,
"I tell you you've got to go. Eugenio'll raise--something!"
"I'm not afraid of Eugenio," said Daisy with a toss of her head.
"Look here, Mrs. Walker," she went on, "you know I'm coming
to your party."
"I am delighted to hear it."
"I've got a lovely dress!"
"I am very sure of that."
"But I want to ask a favor--permission to bring a friend."
"I shall be happy to see any of your friends," said Mrs. Walker,
turning with a smile to Mrs. Miller.
"Oh, they are not my friends," answered Daisy's mamma,
smiling shyly in her own fashion. "I never spoke to them."
"It's an intimate friend of mine--Mr. Giovanelli," said Daisy without a tremor
in her clear little voice or a shadow on her brilliant little face.
Mrs. Walker was silent a moment; she gave a rapid glance at Winterbourne.
"I shall be glad to see Mr. Giovanelli," she then said.
"He's an Italian," Daisy pursued with the prettiest serenity.
"He's a great friend of mine; he's the handsomest man in the world--
except Mr. Winterbourne! He knows plenty of Italians, but he wants
to know some Americans. He thinks ever so much of Americans.
He's tremendously clever. He's perfectly lovely!"
It was settled that this brilliantpersonage should be brought to
Mrs. Walker's party, and then Mrs. Miller prepared to take her leave.
"I guess we'll go back to the hotel," she said.
"You may go back to the hotel, Mother, but I'm going to take
a walk," said Daisy.
"She's going to walk with Mr. Giovanelli," Randolph proclaimed.
"I am going to the Pincio," said Daisy, smiling.
"Alone, my dear--at this hour?" Mrs. Walker asked.
The afternoon was drawing to a close--it was the hour for
the throng of carriages and of contemplative pedestrians.
"I don't think it's safe, my dear," said Mrs. Walker.
"Neither do I," subjoined Mrs. Miller. "You'll get the fever,
as sure as you live. Remember what Dr. Davis told you!"
"Give her some medicine before she goes," said Randolph.
The company had risen to its feet; Daisy, still showing her pretty teeth,
bent over and kissed her hostess. "Mrs. Walker, you are too perfect,"
she said. "I'm not going alone; I am going to meet a friend."
"Your friend won't keep you from getting the fever,"
Mrs. Miller observed.
"Is it Mr. Giovanelli?" asked the hostess.
Winterbourne was watching the young girl; at this question his
attention quickened. She stood there, smiling and smoothing
her bonnet ribbons; she glanced at Winterbourne. Then, while she
glanced and smiled, she answered, without a shade of hesitation,
"Mr. Giovanelli--the beautiful Giovanelli."
"My dear young friend," said Mrs. Walker, taking her hand pleadingly,
"don't walk off to the Pincio at this hour to meet a beautiful Italian."
"Well, he speaks English," said Mrs. Miller.
"Gracious me!" Daisy exclaimed, "I don't to do anything improper.
There's an easy way to settle it." She continued to glance at Winterbourne.
"The Pincio is only a hundred yards distant; and if Mr. Winterbourne
were as polite as he pretends, he would offer to walk with me!"
Winterbourne's politeness hastened to affirm itself,
and the young girl gave him gracious leave to accompany her.
They passed downstairs before her mother, and at the door Winterbourne
perceived Mrs. Miller's carriage drawn up, with the ornamental
courier whose acquaintance he had made at Vevey seated within.
"Goodbye, Eugenio!" cried Daisy; "I'm going to take a walk."
The distance from the Via Gregoriana to the beautiful
garden at the other end of the Pincian Hill is, in fact,
rapidly traversed. As the day was splendid, however, and the
concourse of vehicles, walkers, and loungers numerous,
the young Americans found their progress much delayed.
This fact was highly agreeable to Winterbourne, in spite of his
consciousness of his singular situation. The slow-moving, idly
gazing Roman crowd bestowed much attention upon the extremely
pretty young foreign lady who was passing through it upon his arm;
and he wondered what on earth had been in Daisy's mind when she
proposed to expose herself, unattended, to its appreciation.
His own mission, to her sense, apparently, was to consign
her to the hands of Mr. Giovanelli; but Winterbourne, at once
annoyed and gratified, resolved that he would do no such thing.
"Why haven't you been to see me?" asked Daisy. "You can't
get out of that."
"I have had the honor of telling you that I have only just stepped
out of the train."
"You must have stayed in the train a good while after it stopped!"
cried the young girl with her little laugh. "I suppose you were asleep.
You have had time to go to see Mrs. Walker."
"I knew Mrs. Walker--" Winterbourne began to explain.
"I know where you knew her. You knew her at Geneva.
She told me so. Well, you knew me at Vevey. That's just as good.
So you ought to have come." She asked him no other question
mustaches checked Winterbourne's impulse to go straightway to see her.
He had, perhaps, not definitely flattered himself that he had made
an ineffaceable impression upon her heart, but he was annoyed at hearing
of a state of affairs so little in harmony with an image that had lately
flitted in and out of his own meditations; the image of a very pretty
girl looking out of an old Roman window and asking herself urgently
when Mr. Winterbourne would arrive. If, however, he determined to wait
a little before reminding Miss Miller of his claims to her consideration,
he went very soon to call upon two or three other friends.
One of these friends was an American lady who had spent several
winters at Geneva, where she had placed her children at school.
She was a very accomplished woman, and she lived in the Via Gregoriana.
Winterbourne found her in a little crimsondrawing room on a third floor;
the room was filled with southern sunshine. He had not been there ten minutes
when the servant came in, announcing "Madame Mila!" This announcement
was presently followed by the entrance of little Randolph Miller,
who stopped in the middle of the room and stood staring at Winterbourne.
An instant later his pretty sister crossed the threshold; and then,
after a considerableinterval, Mrs. Miller slowly advanced.
"I know you!" said Randolph.
"I'm sure you know a great many things," exclaimed Winterbourne,
taking him by the hand. "How is your education coming on?"
Daisy was exchanging greetings very prettily with her hostess,
but when she heard Winterbourne's voice she quickly turned her head.
"Well, I declare!" she said.
"I told you I should come, you know," Winterbourne rejoined, smiling.
"Well, I didn't believe it," said Miss Daisy.
"I am much obliged to you," laughed the young man.
"You might have come to see me!" said Daisy.
"I arrived only yesterday."
"I don't believe tte that!" the young girl declared.
Winterbourne turned with a protesting smile to her mother, but this
lady evaded his glance, and, seating herself, fixed her eyes upon
her son. "We've got a bigger place than this," said Randolph.
"It's all gold on the walls."
Mrs. Miller turned uneasily in her chair. "I told you if I were to bring you,
you would say something!" she murmured.
"I told YOU!" Randolph exclaimed. "I tell YOU, sir!"
he added jocosely, giving Winterbourne a thump on the knee.
"It IS bigger, too!"
Daisy had entered upon a lively conversation with her hostess;
Winterbourne judged it becoming to address a few words to her mother.
"I hope you have been well since we parted at Vevey," he said.
Mrs. Miller now certainly looked at him--at his chin.
"Not very well, sir," she answered.
"She's got the dyspepsia," said Randolph. "I've got it too.
Father's got it. I've got it most!"
This announcement, instead of embarrassing Mrs. Miller,
seemed to relieve her. "I suffer from the liver," she said.
"I think it's this climate; it's less bracing than Schenectady,
especially in the winter season. I don't know whether you know
we reside at Schenectady. I was saying to Daisy that I certainly
hadn't found any one like Dr. Davis, and I didn't believe I should.
Oh, at Schenectady he stands first; they think everything of him.
He has so much to do, and yet there was nothing he wouldn't do for me.
He said he never saw anything like my dyspepsia, but he was
bound to cure it. I'm sure there was nothing he wouldn't try.
He was just going to try something new when we came off.
Mr. Miller wanted Daisy to see Europe for herself. But I wrote to
Mr. Miller that it seems as if I couldn't get on without Dr. Davis.
At Schenectady he stands at the very top; and there's a great deal
of sickness there, too. It affects my sleep."
Winterbourne had a good deal of pathological gossip with Dr. Davis's patient,
during which Daisy chattered unremittingly to her own companion.
The young man asked Mrs. Miller how she was pleased with Rome.
"Well, I must say I am disappointed," she answered. "We had heard so much
about it; I suppose we had heard too much. But we couldn't help that.
We had been led to expect something different."
"Ah, wait a little, and you will become very fond of it," said Winterbourne.
"I hate it worse and worse every day!" cried Randolph.
"You are like the infant Hannibal," said Winterbourne.
"No, I ain't!" Randolph declared at a venture.
"You are not much like an infant," said his mother. "But we have
seen places," she resumed, "that I should put a long way before Rome."
And in reply to Winterbourne's interrogation, "There's Zurich,"
she concluded, "I think Zurich is lovely; and we hadn't heard half
so much about it."
"The best place we've seen is the City of Richmond!" said Randolph.
"He means the ship," his mother explained. "We crossed in that ship.
Randolph had a good time on the City of Richmond."
"It's the best place I've seen," the child repeated.
"Only it was turned the wrong way."
"Well, we've got to turn the right way some time,"
said Mrs. Miller with a little laugh. Winterbourne expressed
the hope that her daughter at least found some gratification
in Rome, and she declared that Daisy was quite carried away.
"It's on account of the society--the society's splendid.
She goes round everywhere; she has made a great number
of acquaintances. Of course she goes round more than I do.
I must say they have been very sociable; they have taken
her right in. And then she knows a great many gentlemen.
Oh, she thinks there's nothing like Rome. Of course,
it's a great deal pleasanter for a young lady if she knows
plenty of gentlemen."
By this time Daisy had turned her attention again to Winterbourne.
"I've been telling Mrs. Walker how mean you were!" the young girl announced.
"And what is the evidence you have offered?" asked Winterbourne,
rather annoyed at Miss Miller's want of appreciation of the zeal of
an admirer who on his way down to Rome had stopped neither at Bologna
nor at Florence, simply because of a certain sentimental impatience.
He remembered that a cynical compatriot had once told him that
American women--the pretty ones, and this gave a largeness to the axiom--
were at once the most exacting in the world and the least endowed
with a sense of indebtedness.
"Why, you were awfully mean at Vevey," said Daisy.
"You wouldn't do anything. You wouldn't stay there when
I asked you."
"My dearest young lady," cried Winterbourne, with eloquence,
"have I come all the way to Rome to encounter your reproaches?"
"Just hear him say that!" said Daisy to her hostess, giving a twist to a bow
on this lady's dress. "Did you ever hear anything so quaint?"
"So quaint, my dear?" murmured Mrs. Walker in the tone of a
partisan of Winterbourne.
"Well, I don't know," said Daisy, fingering Mrs. Walker's ribbons.
"Mrs. Walker, I want to tell you something."
"Mother-r," interposed Randolph, with his rough ends to his words,
"I tell you you've got to go. Eugenio'll raise--something!"
"I'm not afraid of Eugenio," said Daisy with a toss of her head.
"Look here, Mrs. Walker," she went on, "you know I'm coming
to your party."
"I am delighted to hear it."
"I've got a lovely dress!"
"I am very sure of that."
"But I want to ask a favor--permission to bring a friend."
"I shall be happy to see any of your friends," said Mrs. Walker,
turning with a smile to Mrs. Miller.
"Oh, they are not my friends," answered Daisy's mamma,
smiling shyly in her own fashion. "I never spoke to them."
"It's an intimate friend of mine--Mr. Giovanelli," said Daisy without a tremor
in her clear little voice or a shadow on her brilliant little face.
Mrs. Walker was silent a moment; she gave a rapid glance at Winterbourne.
"I shall be glad to see Mr. Giovanelli," she then said.
"He's an Italian," Daisy pursued with the prettiest serenity.
"He's a great friend of mine; he's the handsomest man in the world--
except Mr. Winterbourne! He knows plenty of Italians, but he wants
to know some Americans. He thinks ever so much of Americans.
He's tremendously clever. He's perfectly lovely!"
It was settled that this brilliantpersonage should be brought to
Mrs. Walker's party, and then Mrs. Miller prepared to take her leave.
"I guess we'll go back to the hotel," she said.
"You may go back to the hotel, Mother, but I'm going to take
a walk," said Daisy.
"She's going to walk with Mr. Giovanelli," Randolph proclaimed.
"I am going to the Pincio," said Daisy, smiling.
"Alone, my dear--at this hour?" Mrs. Walker asked.
The afternoon was drawing to a close--it was the hour for
the throng of carriages and of contemplative pedestrians.
"I don't think it's safe, my dear," said Mrs. Walker.
"Neither do I," subjoined Mrs. Miller. "You'll get the fever,
as sure as you live. Remember what Dr. Davis told you!"
"Give her some medicine before she goes," said Randolph.
The company had risen to its feet; Daisy, still showing her pretty teeth,
bent over and kissed her hostess. "Mrs. Walker, you are too perfect,"
she said. "I'm not going alone; I am going to meet a friend."
"Your friend won't keep you from getting the fever,"
Mrs. Miller observed.
"Is it Mr. Giovanelli?" asked the hostess.
Winterbourne was watching the young girl; at this question his
attention quickened. She stood there, smiling and smoothing
her bonnet ribbons; she glanced at Winterbourne. Then, while she
glanced and smiled, she answered, without a shade of hesitation,
"Mr. Giovanelli--the beautiful Giovanelli."
"My dear young friend," said Mrs. Walker, taking her hand pleadingly,
"don't walk off to the Pincio at this hour to meet a beautiful Italian."
"Well, he speaks English," said Mrs. Miller.
"Gracious me!" Daisy exclaimed, "I don't to do anything improper.
There's an easy way to settle it." She continued to glance at Winterbourne.
"The Pincio is only a hundred yards distant; and if Mr. Winterbourne
were as polite as he pretends, he would offer to walk with me!"
Winterbourne's politeness hastened to affirm itself,
and the young girl gave him gracious leave to accompany her.
They passed downstairs before her mother, and at the door Winterbourne
perceived Mrs. Miller's carriage drawn up, with the ornamental
courier whose acquaintance he had made at Vevey seated within.
"Goodbye, Eugenio!" cried Daisy; "I'm going to take a walk."
The distance from the Via Gregoriana to the beautiful
garden at the other end of the Pincian Hill is, in fact,
rapidly traversed. As the day was splendid, however, and the
concourse of vehicles, walkers, and loungers numerous,
the young Americans found their progress much delayed.
This fact was highly agreeable to Winterbourne, in spite of his
consciousness of his singular situation. The slow-moving, idly
gazing Roman crowd bestowed much attention upon the extremely
pretty young foreign lady who was passing through it upon his arm;
and he wondered what on earth had been in Daisy's mind when she
proposed to expose herself, unattended, to its appreciation.
His own mission, to her sense, apparently, was to consign
her to the hands of Mr. Giovanelli; but Winterbourne, at once
annoyed and gratified, resolved that he would do no such thing.
"Why haven't you been to see me?" asked Daisy. "You can't
get out of that."
"I have had the honor of telling you that I have only just stepped
out of the train."
"You must have stayed in the train a good while after it stopped!"
cried the young girl with her little laugh. "I suppose you were asleep.
You have had time to go to see Mrs. Walker."
"I knew Mrs. Walker--" Winterbourne began to explain.
"I know where you knew her. You knew her at Geneva.
She told me so. Well, you knew me at Vevey. That's just as good.
So you ought to have come." She asked him no other question
- impulse [´impʌls]
n.推动(力)；冲动；刺激 (初中英语单词) - definitely [´definitli] ad.明确地；绝对 (初中英语单词)
- impression [im´preʃən] n.印刷；印象；效果 (初中英语单词)
- harmony [´hɑ:məni] n.调合，协调，和谐 (初中英语单词)
- sunshine [´sʌnʃain] n.日光，阳光 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- instant [´instənt] a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词)
- considerable [kən´sidərəbəl] a.重要的；值得重视 (初中英语单词)
- interval [´intəvəl] n.间隙；(工间)休息 (初中英语单词)
- lively [´laivli] a.活泼的；热烈的 (初中英语单词)
- relieve [ri´li:v] v.救济，援救；减轻 (初中英语单词)
- climate [´klaimit] n.气候；特殊气候地带 (初中英语单词)
- sickness [´siknis] n.生病；呕吐，恶心 (初中英语单词)
- infant [´infənt] n.&a.婴(幼)儿 (初中英语单词)
- account [ə´kaunt] vi.说明 vt.认为 n.帐目 (初中英语单词)
- encounter [in´kauntə] vt.&n.偶然相遇；冲突 (初中英语单词)
- intimate [´intimit] a.亲密的 n.知己 (初中英语单词)
- brilliant [´briliənt] a.灿烂的；杰出的 (初中英语单词)
- polite [pə´lait] a.有礼貌的；温和的 (初中英语单词)
- gracious [´greiʃəs] a.和蔼可亲的；任慈的 (初中英语单词)
- downstairs [,daun´steəz] ad.在楼下 a.楼下的 (初中英语单词)
- carriage [´kæridʒ] n.马车；客车；货运 (初中英语单词)
- acquaintance [ə´kweintəns] n.相识；熟人，相识的人 (初中英语单词)
- agreeable [ə´gri:əbəl] a.适合的；符合的 (初中英语单词)
- expose [ik´spəuz] vt.揭露，暴露；陈列 (初中英语单词)
- mission [´miʃən] n.代表团；使馆vt.派遣 (初中英语单词)
- straightway [´streitwei] ad.立刻 (高中英语单词)
- geneva [dʒi´ni:və] n.日内瓦 (高中英语单词)
- crimson [´krimzən] a.&n.深(紫)红(的) (高中英语单词)
- threshold [´θreʃhəuld] n.门槛；入门；开端 (高中英语单词)
- announcement [ə´naunsmənt] n.通告；宣布；言谈 (高中英语单词)
- reside [ri´zaid] vi.居住；(权利等)属于 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- gossip [´gɔsip] n.&vi.说闲话；聊天 (高中英语单词)
- appreciation [ə,pri:ʃi´eiʃən] n.评价；感激 (高中英语单词)
- awfully [´ɔ:fuli] ad.令人畏惧地 (高中英语单词)
- hostess [´həustis] n.女主人；旅馆女老板 (高中英语单词)
- quaint [kweint] a.离奇的；奇妙的 (高中英语单词)
- perfectly [´pə:fiktli] ad.理想地；完美地 (高中英语单词)
- throng [θrɔŋ] n.群众 v.拥挤；群集 (高中英语单词)
- bonnet [´bɔnit] n.无边女帽；童帽 (高中英语单词)
- affirm [ə´fə:m] vt.肯定，断言，证实 (高中英语单词)
- singular [´siŋgjulə] a.单一的；非凡的 (高中英语单词)
- apparently [ə´pærəntli] ad.显然，表面上地 (高中英语单词)
- miller [´milə] n.磨坊主；铣床(工) (英语四级单词)
- accomplished [ə´kʌmpliʃt] a.完成了的；熟练的 (英语四级单词)
- drawing [´drɔ:iŋ] n.画图；制图；图样 (英语四级单词)
- admirer [əd´maiərə] n.赞美者，羡慕者 (英语四级单词)
- florence [´flɔrəns] n.佛罗伦萨 (英语四级单词)
- sentimental [,senti´mentl] a.感伤的；多愁善感的 (英语四级单词)
- delighted [di´laitid] a.高兴的；喜欢的 (英语四级单词)
- tremendously [tri´mendəsli] ad.可怕地；极大地 (英语四级单词)
- personage [´pə:sənidʒ] n.名流；人物，角色 (英语四级单词)
- resolved [ri´zɔlvd] a.决心的；坚定的 (英语四级单词)
- uneasily [ʌn´i:zili] ad.不安地；局促地 (英语六级单词)
- cynical [´sinikəl] a.讥诮的；冷嘲的 (英语六级单词)
- exacting [ig´zæktiŋ] a.苛求的；严格的 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- politeness [pə´laitnis] n.礼貌；文雅；温和 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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