章节正文
The blame of this unmerciful disaster was eventually narrowed down
to the Pyes. The Improvers had decided to use Morton-Harris paints
and the Morton-Harris paint cans were numbered according to a color
card. A purchaser chose his shade on the card and ordered by the
accompanying number. Number 147 was the shade of green desired and
when Mr. Roger Pye sent word to the Improvers by his son, John
Andrew, that he was going to town and would get their paint for
them, the Improvers told John Andrew to tell his father to get 147.
John Andrew always averred that he did so, but Mr. Roger Pye as
stanchly declared that John Andrew told him 157; and there the
matter stands to this day.
That night there was blank dismay in every Avonlea house where an
Improver lived. The gloom at Green Gables was so intense that it
quenched even Davy. Anne wept and would not be comforted.
"I must cry, even if I am almost seventeen, Marilla," she sobbed.
"It is so mortifying. And it sounds the death knell of our society.
We'll simply be laughed out of existence."
In life, as in dreams, however, things often go by contraries. The
Avonlea people did not laugh; they were too angry. Their money had
gone to paint the hall and consequently they felt themselves bitterly
aggrieved by the mistake. Public indignation centered on the Pyes.
Roger Pye and John Andrew had bungled the matter between them;
and as for Joshua Pye, he must be a born fool not to suspect
there was something wrong when he opened the cans and saw the color
of the paint. Joshua Pye, when thus animadverted upon, retorted
that the Avonlea taste in colors was no business of his, whatever
his private opinion might be; he had been hired to paint the hall,
not to talk about it; and he meant to have his money for it.
The Improvers paid him his money in bitterness of spirit, after
consulting Mr. Peter Sloane, who was a magistrate.
"You'll have to pay it," Peter told him. "You can't hold him
responsible for the mistake, since he claims he was never told
what the color was supposed to be but just given the cans and
told to go ahead. But it's a burning shame and that hall
certainly does look awful."
The luckless Improvers expected that Avonlea would be more
prejudiced than ever against them; but instead, public sympathy
veered around in their favor. People thought the eager,
enthusiastic little band who had worked so hard for their object
had been badly used. Mrs. Lynde told them to keep on and show
the Pyes that there really were people in the world who could
do things without making a muddle of them. Mr. Major Spencer sent
them word that he would clean out all the stumps along the road
front of his farm and seed it down with grass at his own expense;
and Mrs. Hiram Sloane called at the school one day and beckoned
Anne mysteriously" target="_blank" title="ad.神秘地；故弄玄虚地">mysteriously out into the porch to tell her that if the "Sassiety"
wanted to make a geranium bed at the crossroads in the spring they
needn't be afraid of her cow, for she would see that the marauding
animal was kept within safe bounds. Even Mr. Harrison chuckled,
if he chuckled at all, in private, and was all sympathy outwardly.
"Never mind, Anne. Most paints fade uglier every year but that
blue is as ugly as it can be to begin with, so it's bound to fade
prettier. And the roof is shingled and painted all right. Folks
will be able to sit in the hall after this without being leaked on.
You've accomplished so much anyhow."
"But Avonlea's blue hall will be a byword in all the neighboring
settlements from this time out," said Anne bitterly.
And it must be confessed that it was.
X
Davy in Search of a Sensation
Anne, walking home from school through the Birch Path one November
afternoon, felt convinced afresh that life was a very wonderful thing.
The day had been a good day; all had gone well in her little kingdom.
St. Clair Donnell had not fought any of the other boys over the
question of his name; Prillie Rogerson's face had been so puffed
up from the effects of toothache that she did not once try to
coquette with the boys in her vicinity. Barbara Shaw had met
with only ONE accident. . .spilling a dipper of water over
the floor. . .and Anthony Pye had not been in school at all.
"What a nice month this November has been!" said Anne, who had
never quite got over her childish habit of talking to herself.
"November is usually such a disagreeable month. . .as if the year
had suddenly found out that she was growing old and could do
nothing but weep and fret over it. This year is growing old
gracefully. . .just like a stately old lady who knows she can be
charming even with gray hair and wrinkles. We've had lovely days
and delicious twilights. This last fortnight has been so peaceful,
and even Davy has been almost well-behaved. I really think he
is improving a great deal. How quiet the woods are today. . .
not a murmur except that soft wind purring in the treetops!
It sounds like surf on a faraway shore. How dear the woods are!
You beautiful trees! I love every one of you as a friend."
Anne paused to throw her arm about a slim young birch and kiss its
cream-white trunk. Diana, rounding a curve in the path, saw her
and laughed.
"Anne Shirley, you're only pretending to be grown up. I believe
when you're alone you're as much a little girl as you ever were."
"Well, one can't get over the habit of being a little girl all at
once," said Anne gaily. "You see, I was little for fourteen years
and I've only been grown-uppish for scarcely three. I'm sure I
shall always feel like a child in the woods. These walks home
from school are almost the only time I have for dreaming. . .
except the half-hour or so before I go to sleep. I'm so busy
with teaching and studying and helping Marilla with the
twins that I haven't another moment for imagining things.
You don't know what splendid adventures I have for a little
while after I go to bed in the east gable every night. I always
imagine I'm something very brilliant and triumphant and splendid. . .
a great prima donna or a Red Cross nurse or a queen. Last night
I was a queen. It's really splendid to imagine you are a queen.
You have all the fun of it without any of the inconveniences and
you can stop being a queen whenever you want to, which you couldn't
in real life. But here in the woods I like best to imagine quite
different things. . .I'm a dryad living in an old pine, or a little
brown wood-elf hiding under a crinkled leaf. That white birch you
caught me kissing is a sister of mine. The only difference is,
she's a tree and I'm a girl, but that's no real difference.
Where are you going, Diana?"
"Down to the Dicksons. I promised to help Alberta cut out her new dress.
Can't you walk down in the evening, Anne, and come home with me?"
"I might. . .since Fred Wright is away in town," said Anne with a
rather too innocent face.
Diana blushed, tossed her head, and walked on. She did not look
offended, however.
Anne fully intended to go down to the Dicksons' that evening, but
she did not. When she arrived at Green Gables she found a state of
affairs which banished every other thought from her mind. Marilla
met her in the yard. . .a wild-eyed Marilla.
"Anne, Dora is lost!"
"Dora! Lost!" Anne looked at Davy, who was swinging on the yard
gate, and detected merriment in his eyes. "Davy, do you know where
she is?"
"No, I don't," said Davy stoutly. "I haven't seen her since dinner
time, cross my heart."
"I've been away ever since one o'clock," said Marilla. "Thomas Lynde
took sick all of a sudden and Rachel sent up for me to go at once.
When I left here Dora was playing with her doll in the kitchen and Davy
was making mud pies behind the barn. I only got home half an hour ago
. . .and no Dora to be seen. Davy declares he never saw her since I left."
"Neither I did," avowed Davy solemnly.
"She must be somewhere around," said Anne. "She would never wander
far away alone. . .you know how timid she is. Perhaps she has fallen
asleep in one of the rooms."
Marilla shook her head.
"I've hunted the whole house through. But she may be in some of
the buildings."
A thorough search followed. Every corner of house, yard, and
outbuildings was ransacked by those two distracted people. Anne
roved the orchards and the Haunted Wood, calling Dora's name.
Marilla took a candle and explored the cellar. Davy accompanied
each of them in turn, and was fertile in thinking of places where
Dora could possibly be. Finally they met again in the yard.
"It's a most mysterious thing," groaned Marilla.
"Where can she be?" said Anne miserably
"Maybe she's tumbled into the well," suggested Davy cheerfully.
Anne and Marilla looked fearfully into each other's eyes.
The thought had been with them both through their entire
search but neither had dared to put it into words.
"She. . .she might have," whispered Marilla.
Anne, feeling faint and sick, went to the wellbox and peered over.
The bucket sat on the shelf inside. Far down below was a tiny
glimmer of still water. The Cuthbert well was the deepest in
Avonlea. If Dora. . .but Anne could not face the idea.
She shuddered and turned away.
"Run across for Mr. Harrison," said Marilla, wringing her hands.
"Mr. Harrison and John Henry are both away. . .they went to town today.
I'll go for Mr. Barry."
Mr. Barry came back with Anne, carrying a coil of rope to which
was attached a claw-like instrument that had been the business end
of a grubbing fork. Marilla and Anne stood by, cold and shaken
with horror and dread, while Mr. Barry dragged the well, and Davy,
astride the gate, watched the group with a face indicative of huge
enjoyment.
Finally Mr. Barry shook his head, with a relieved air.
"She can't be down there. It's a mighty curious thing where she
could have got to, though. Look here, young man, are you sure
you've no idea where your sister is?"
"I've told you a dozen times that I haven't," said Davy, with an
injured air. "Maybe a tramp come and stole her."
"Nonsense," said Marilla sharply, relieved from her horrible fear
of the well. "Anne, do you suppose she could have strayed over to
Mr. Harrison's? She has always been talking about his parrot ever
since that time you took her over"
"I can't believe Dora would venture so far alone but I'll go over
and see," said Anne.
Nobody was looking at Davy just then or it would have been seen that
a very decided change came over his face. He quietly slipped off
the gate and ran, as fast as his fat legs could carry him, to the barn.
Anne hastened across the fields to the Harrison establishment in no
very hopeful frame of mind. The house was locked, the window
shades were down, and there was no sign of anything living about
the place. She stood on the veranda and called Dora loudly.
Ginger, in the kitchen behind her, shrieked and swore with sudden
fierceness; but between his outbursts Anne heard a plaintive cry
from the little building in the yard which served Mr. Harrison as
a toolhouse. Anne flew to the door, unhasped it, and caught up a
small mortal with a tearstained face who was sitting forlornly on
an upturned nail keg.
"Oh, Dora, Dora, what a fright you have given us! How came you to be here?"
"Davy and I came over to see Ginger," sobbed Dora, "but we couldn't
see him after all, only Davy made him swear by kicking the door.
And then Davy brought me here and run out and shut the door; and I
couldn't get out. I cried and cried, I was frightened, and oh, I'm
so hungry and cold; and I thought you'd never come, Anne."
"Davy?" But Anne could say no more. She carried Dora home with a
heavy heart. Her joy at finding the child safe and sound was
drowned out in the pain caused by Davy's behavior. The freak of
shutting Dora up might easily have been pardoned. But Davy had
told falsehoods. . .downright coldblooded falsehoods about it.
That was the ugly fact and Anne could not shut her eyes to it.
She could have sat down and cried with sheer disappointment.
to the Pyes. The Improvers had decided to use Morton-Harris paints
and the Morton-Harris paint cans were numbered according to a color
card. A purchaser chose his shade on the card and ordered by the
accompanying number. Number 147 was the shade of green desired and
when Mr. Roger Pye sent word to the Improvers by his son, John
Andrew, that he was going to town and would get their paint for
them, the Improvers told John Andrew to tell his father to get 147.
John Andrew always averred that he did so, but Mr. Roger Pye as
stanchly declared that John Andrew told him 157; and there the
matter stands to this day.
That night there was blank dismay in every Avonlea house where an
Improver lived. The gloom at Green Gables was so intense that it
quenched even Davy. Anne wept and would not be comforted.
"I must cry, even if I am almost seventeen, Marilla," she sobbed.
"It is so mortifying. And it sounds the death knell of our society.
We'll simply be laughed out of existence."
In life, as in dreams, however, things often go by contraries. The
Avonlea people did not laugh; they were too angry. Their money had
gone to paint the hall and consequently they felt themselves bitterly
aggrieved by the mistake. Public indignation centered on the Pyes.
Roger Pye and John Andrew had bungled the matter between them;
and as for Joshua Pye, he must be a born fool not to suspect
there was something wrong when he opened the cans and saw the color
of the paint. Joshua Pye, when thus animadverted upon, retorted
that the Avonlea taste in colors was no business of his, whatever
his private opinion might be; he had been hired to paint the hall,
not to talk about it; and he meant to have his money for it.
The Improvers paid him his money in bitterness of spirit, after
consulting Mr. Peter Sloane, who was a magistrate.
"You'll have to pay it," Peter told him. "You can't hold him
responsible for the mistake, since he claims he was never told
what the color was supposed to be but just given the cans and
told to go ahead. But it's a burning shame and that hall
certainly does look awful."
The luckless Improvers expected that Avonlea would be more
prejudiced than ever against them; but instead, public sympathy
veered around in their favor. People thought the eager,
enthusiastic little band who had worked so hard for their object
had been badly used. Mrs. Lynde told them to keep on and show
the Pyes that there really were people in the world who could
do things without making a muddle of them. Mr. Major Spencer sent
them word that he would clean out all the stumps along the road
front of his farm and seed it down with grass at his own expense;
and Mrs. Hiram Sloane called at the school one day and beckoned
Anne mysteriously" target="_blank" title="ad.神秘地；故弄玄虚地">mysteriously out into the porch to tell her that if the "Sassiety"
wanted to make a geranium bed at the crossroads in the spring they
needn't be afraid of her cow, for she would see that the marauding
animal was kept within safe bounds. Even Mr. Harrison chuckled,
if he chuckled at all, in private, and was all sympathy outwardly.
"Never mind, Anne. Most paints fade uglier every year but that
blue is as ugly as it can be to begin with, so it's bound to fade
prettier. And the roof is shingled and painted all right. Folks
will be able to sit in the hall after this without being leaked on.
You've accomplished so much anyhow."
"But Avonlea's blue hall will be a byword in all the neighboring
settlements from this time out," said Anne bitterly.
And it must be confessed that it was.
X
Davy in Search of a Sensation
Anne, walking home from school through the Birch Path one November
afternoon, felt convinced afresh that life was a very wonderful thing.
The day had been a good day; all had gone well in her little kingdom.
St. Clair Donnell had not fought any of the other boys over the
question of his name; Prillie Rogerson's face had been so puffed
up from the effects of toothache that she did not once try to
coquette with the boys in her vicinity. Barbara Shaw had met
with only ONE accident. . .spilling a dipper of water over
the floor. . .and Anthony Pye had not been in school at all.
"What a nice month this November has been!" said Anne, who had
never quite got over her childish habit of talking to herself.
"November is usually such a disagreeable month. . .as if the year
had suddenly found out that she was growing old and could do
nothing but weep and fret over it. This year is growing old
gracefully. . .just like a stately old lady who knows she can be
charming even with gray hair and wrinkles. We've had lovely days
and delicious twilights. This last fortnight has been so peaceful,
and even Davy has been almost well-behaved. I really think he
is improving a great deal. How quiet the woods are today. . .
not a murmur except that soft wind purring in the treetops!
It sounds like surf on a faraway shore. How dear the woods are!
You beautiful trees! I love every one of you as a friend."
Anne paused to throw her arm about a slim young birch and kiss its
cream-white trunk. Diana, rounding a curve in the path, saw her
and laughed.
"Anne Shirley, you're only pretending to be grown up. I believe
when you're alone you're as much a little girl as you ever were."
"Well, one can't get over the habit of being a little girl all at
once," said Anne gaily. "You see, I was little for fourteen years
and I've only been grown-uppish for scarcely three. I'm sure I
shall always feel like a child in the woods. These walks home
from school are almost the only time I have for dreaming. . .
except the half-hour or so before I go to sleep. I'm so busy
with teaching and studying and helping Marilla with the
twins that I haven't another moment for imagining things.
You don't know what splendid adventures I have for a little
while after I go to bed in the east gable every night. I always
imagine I'm something very brilliant and triumphant and splendid. . .
a great prima donna or a Red Cross nurse or a queen. Last night
I was a queen. It's really splendid to imagine you are a queen.
You have all the fun of it without any of the inconveniences and
you can stop being a queen whenever you want to, which you couldn't
in real life. But here in the woods I like best to imagine quite
different things. . .I'm a dryad living in an old pine, or a little
brown wood-elf hiding under a crinkled leaf. That white birch you
caught me kissing is a sister of mine. The only difference is,
she's a tree and I'm a girl, but that's no real difference.
Where are you going, Diana?"
"Down to the Dicksons. I promised to help Alberta cut out her new dress.
Can't you walk down in the evening, Anne, and come home with me?"
"I might. . .since Fred Wright is away in town," said Anne with a
rather too innocent face.
Diana blushed, tossed her head, and walked on. She did not look
offended, however.
Anne fully intended to go down to the Dicksons' that evening, but
she did not. When she arrived at Green Gables she found a state of
affairs which banished every other thought from her mind. Marilla
met her in the yard. . .a wild-eyed Marilla.
"Anne, Dora is lost!"
"Dora! Lost!" Anne looked at Davy, who was swinging on the yard
gate, and detected merriment in his eyes. "Davy, do you know where
she is?"
"No, I don't," said Davy stoutly. "I haven't seen her since dinner
time, cross my heart."
"I've been away ever since one o'clock," said Marilla. "Thomas Lynde
took sick all of a sudden and Rachel sent up for me to go at once.
When I left here Dora was playing with her doll in the kitchen and Davy
was making mud pies behind the barn. I only got home half an hour ago
. . .and no Dora to be seen. Davy declares he never saw her since I left."
"Neither I did," avowed Davy solemnly.
"She must be somewhere around," said Anne. "She would never wander
far away alone. . .you know how timid she is. Perhaps she has fallen
asleep in one of the rooms."
Marilla shook her head.
"I've hunted the whole house through. But she may be in some of
the buildings."
A thorough search followed. Every corner of house, yard, and
outbuildings was ransacked by those two distracted people. Anne
roved the orchards and the Haunted Wood, calling Dora's name.
Marilla took a candle and explored the cellar. Davy accompanied
each of them in turn, and was fertile in thinking of places where
Dora could possibly be. Finally they met again in the yard.
"It's a most mysterious thing," groaned Marilla.
"Where can she be?" said Anne miserably
"Maybe she's tumbled into the well," suggested Davy cheerfully.
Anne and Marilla looked fearfully into each other's eyes.
The thought had been with them both through their entire
search but neither had dared to put it into words.
"She. . .she might have," whispered Marilla.
Anne, feeling faint and sick, went to the wellbox and peered over.
The bucket sat on the shelf inside. Far down below was a tiny
glimmer of still water. The Cuthbert well was the deepest in
Avonlea. If Dora. . .but Anne could not face the idea.
She shuddered and turned away.
"Run across for Mr. Harrison," said Marilla, wringing her hands.
"Mr. Harrison and John Henry are both away. . .they went to town today.
I'll go for Mr. Barry."
Mr. Barry came back with Anne, carrying a coil of rope to which
was attached a claw-like instrument that had been the business end
of a grubbing fork. Marilla and Anne stood by, cold and shaken
with horror and dread, while Mr. Barry dragged the well, and Davy,
astride the gate, watched the group with a face indicative of huge
enjoyment.
Finally Mr. Barry shook his head, with a relieved air.
"She can't be down there. It's a mighty curious thing where she
could have got to, though. Look here, young man, are you sure
you've no idea where your sister is?"
"I've told you a dozen times that I haven't," said Davy, with an
injured air. "Maybe a tramp come and stole her."
"Nonsense," said Marilla sharply, relieved from her horrible fear
of the well. "Anne, do you suppose she could have strayed over to
Mr. Harrison's? She has always been talking about his parrot ever
since that time you took her over"
"I can't believe Dora would venture so far alone but I'll go over
and see," said Anne.
Nobody was looking at Davy just then or it would have been seen that
a very decided change came over his face. He quietly slipped off
the gate and ran, as fast as his fat legs could carry him, to the barn.
Anne hastened across the fields to the Harrison establishment in no
very hopeful frame of mind. The house was locked, the window
shades were down, and there was no sign of anything living about
the place. She stood on the veranda and called Dora loudly.
Ginger, in the kitchen behind her, shrieked and swore with sudden
fierceness; but between his outbursts Anne heard a plaintive cry
from the little building in the yard which served Mr. Harrison as
a toolhouse. Anne flew to the door, unhasped it, and caught up a
small mortal with a tearstained face who was sitting forlornly on
an upturned nail keg.
"Oh, Dora, Dora, what a fright you have given us! How came you to be here?"
"Davy and I came over to see Ginger," sobbed Dora, "but we couldn't
see him after all, only Davy made him swear by kicking the door.
And then Davy brought me here and run out and shut the door; and I
couldn't get out. I cried and cried, I was frightened, and oh, I'm
so hungry and cold; and I thought you'd never come, Anne."
"Davy?" But Anne could say no more. She carried Dora home with a
heavy heart. Her joy at finding the child safe and sound was
drowned out in the pain caused by Davy's behavior. The freak of
shutting Dora up might easily have been pardoned. But Davy had
told falsehoods. . .downright coldblooded falsehoods about it.
That was the ugly fact and Anne could not shut her eyes to it.
She could have sat down and cried with sheer disappointment.
- disaster [di´zɑ:stə]
n.灾难，不幸 (初中英语单词) - dismay [dis´mei] n.惊慌 vt.使惊慌 (初中英语单词)
- supposed [sə´pəuzd] a.想象的；假定的 (初中英语单词)
- mysteriously [mis´tiəriəsli] ad.神秘地；故弄玄虚地 (初中英语单词)
- sympathy [´simpəθi] n.同情，怜悯 (初中英语单词)
- childish [´tʃaildiʃ] a.孩子的；幼稚的 (初中英语单词)
- delicious [di´liʃəs] a.美味的，可口的 (初中英语单词)
- brilliant [´briliənt] a.灿烂的；杰出的 (初中英语单词)
- whenever [wen´evə] conj.&ad.无论何时 (初中英语单词)
- innocent [´inəsənt] a.无罪的；单纯的 (初中英语单词)
- haunted [´hɔ:tid] a.常出现鬼的，闹鬼的 (初中英语单词)
- cellar [´selə] n.地窑，地下室 (初中英语单词)
- mysterious [mi´stiəriəs] a.神秘的；难以理解的 (初中英语单词)
- instrument [´instrumənt] n.仪器；手段；乐器 (初中英语单词)
- horror [´hɔrə] n.恐怖；战栗 (初中英语单词)
- sharply [´ʃɑ:pli] ad.锋利地；剧烈地 (初中英语单词)
- horrible [´hɔrəbəl] a.可怕的；恐怖的 (初中英语单词)
- venture [´ventʃə] n.投机 v.冒险；敢于 (初中英语单词)
- establishment [i´stæbliʃmənt] n.建(成)立；研究所 (初中英语单词)
- fright [frait] n.惊吓；恐怖；怪人 (初中英语单词)
- disappointment [,disə´pɔintmənt] n.失望；挫折 (初中英语单词)
- decided [di´saidid] a.明显的；决定的 (高中英语单词)
- intense [in´tens] a.强烈的；紧张的 (高中英语单词)
- consequently [´kɔnsikwəntli] ad.因此，所以 (高中英语单词)
- indignation [,indig´neiʃən] n.愤慨；气愤 (高中英语单词)
- bitterness [´bitənis] n.苦味；辛酸；苦难 (高中英语单词)
- disagreeable [,disə´gri:əbl] a.令人不悦的 (高中英语单词)
- stately [´steitli] a.庄严的，雄伟的 (高中英语单词)
- fortnight [´fɔ:tnait] n.两星期 (高中英语单词)
- thorough [´θʌrə] a.彻底的；详尽的 (高中英语单词)
- fertile [´fə:tail] a.肥沃的；有繁殖力的 (高中英语单词)
- bucket [´bʌkit] n.水桶 (高中英语单词)
- mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
- mortal [´mɔ:tl] a.致命的 n.凡人 (高中英语单词)
- finding [´faindiŋ] n.发现物；判断；结果 (高中英语单词)
- behavior [bi´heiviə] n.举止，行为 (高中英语单词)
- eventually [i´ventʃuəli] ad.最后，终于 (英语四级单词)
- accomplished [ə´kʌmpliʃt] a.完成了的；熟练的 (英语四级单词)
- vicinity [vi´siniti] n.邻近，附近，接近 (英语四级单词)
- triumphant [trai´ʌmfənt] a.胜利的；洋洋得意的 (英语四级单词)
- merriment [´merimənt] n.欢乐 (英语四级单词)
- parrot [´pærət] n.鹦鹉；应声虫 (英语四级单词)
- hopeful [´həupfəl] a.有希望的，激励人的 (英语四级单词)
- veranda [və´rændə] n.游廊；阳台 (英语四级单词)
- purchaser [´pə:tʃəsə] n.买主；采购人 (英语六级单词)
- spencer [´spensə] n.(羊毛)短上衣 (英语六级单词)
- geranium [dʒə´reiniəm] n.天竺葵 (英语六级单词)
- dipper [´dipə] n.长柄勺 (英语六级单词)
- half-hour [´hɑ:f-auə] n.&a.(每)三十分钟的 (英语六级单词)
- calling [´kɔ:liŋ] n.点名；职业；欲望 (英语六级单词)
- indicative [in´dikətiv] a.指示的；陈述的 (英语六级单词)
- plaintive [´pleintiv] a.表示哀怨(悲痛) (英语六级单词)
- downright [´daunrait] a.直率的 ad.彻底 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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