章节正文
that!' Then he tramped in, an' I was some put to keep alongside
him. There was a hard, scrapin' sound of feet, a loud cry, an'
then some whisperin', an' after that stillness you could cut with
a knife. Tull was there, an' that fat party who once tried to
throw a gun on me, an' other important-lookin' men, en' that
little frog-legged feller who was with Tull the day I rode in
here. I wish you could have seen their faces, 'specially Tull's
an' the fat party's. But there ain't no use of me tryin' to tell
you how they looked.
"Well, Venters an' I stood there in the middle of the room with
that batch of men all in front of us, en' not a blamed one of
them winked an eyelash or moved a finger. It was natural, of
course, for me to notice many of them packed guns. That's a way
of mine, first noticin' them things. Venters spoke up, an' his
voice sort of chilled an' cut, en' he told Tull he had a few
things to say."
Here Lassiter paused while he turned his sombrero round and
round, in his familiar habit, and his eyes had the look of a man
seeing over again some thrilling spectacle, and under his red
bronze there was strange animation.
"Like a shot, then, Venters told Tull that the friendship between
you an' him was all over, an' he was leaving your place. He said
you'd both of you broken off in the hope of propitiatin' your
people, but you hadn't changed your mind otherwise, an' never
would.
"Next he spoke up for you. I ain't goin' to tell you what he
said. Only--no other woman who ever lived ever had such tribute!
You had a champion, Jane, an' never fear that those thick-skulled
men don't know you now. It couldn't be otherwise. He spoke the
ringin', lightnin' truth....Then he accused Tull of the
underhand, miserablerobbery of a helpless woman. He told Tull
where the red herd was, of a deal made with Oldrin', that Jerry
Card had made the deal. I thought Tull was goin' to drop, an'
that little frog-legged cuss, he looked some limp an' white. But
Venters's voice would have kept anybody's legs from bucklin'. I
was stiff myself. He went on an' called Tull--called him every
bad name ever known to a rider, an' then some. He cursed Tull. I
never hear a man get such a cursin'. He laughed in scorn at the
idea of Tull bein' a minister. He said Tull an' a few more dogs
of hell builded their empire out of the hearts of such innocent
an' God-fearin' women as Jane Withersteen. He called Tull a
binder of women, a callous beast who hid behind a mock mantle of
righteousness--an' the last an' lowest coward on the face of the
earth. To prey on weak women through their religion--that was the
last unspeakable crime!
"Then he finished, an' by this time he'd almost lost his voice.
But his whisper was enough. 'Tull,' he said, 'she begged me not
to draw on you to-day. She would pray for you if you burned her
at the stake....But listen!...I swear if you and I ever come face
to face again, I'll kill you!'
"We backed out of the door then, an' up the road. But nobody
follered us."
Jane found herself weepingpassionately" target="_blank" title="ad.多情地；热烈地">passionately. She had not been
conscious of it till Lassiter ended his story, and she
experienced exquisite pain and relief in shedding tears. Long had
her eyes been dry, her grief deep; long had her emotions been
dumb. Lassiter's story put her on the rack; the appalling nature
of Venters's act and speech had no parallel as an outrage; it was
worse than bloodshed. Men like Tull had been shot, but had one
ever been so terribly denounced in public? Over-mounting her
horror, an uncontrollable, quivering passion shook her very soul.
It was sheer human glory in the deed of a fearless man. It was
hot, primitiveinstinct to live--to fight. It was a kind of mad
joy in Venters's chivalry. It was close to the wrath that had
first shaken her in the beginning of this war waged upon
her.
"Well, well, Jane, don't take it that way," said Lassiter, in
evident distress. "I had to tell you. There's some things a
feller jest can't keep. It's strange you give up on hearin' that,
when all this long time you've been the gamest woman I ever seen.
But I don't know women. Mebbe there's reason for you to cry. I
know this--nothin' ever rang in my soul an' so filled it as what
Venters did. I'd like to have done it, but--I'm only good for
throwin' a gun, en' it seems you hate that....Well, I'll be goin'
now."
"Where?"
"Venters took Wrangle to the stable. The sorrel's shy a shoe, an'
I've got to help hold the big devil an' put on another."
"Tell Bern to come for the pack I want to give him--and--and to
say good-by," called Jane, as Lassiter went out.
Jane passed the rest of that day in a vain endeavor to decide
what and what not to put in the pack for Venters. This task was
the last she would ever perform for him, and the gifts were the
last she would ever make him. So she picked and chose and
rejected, and chose again, and often paused in sad revery, and
began again, till at length she filled the pack.
It was about sunset, and she and Fay had finished supper and were
sitting in the court, when Venters's quick steps rang on the
stones. She scarcely knew him, for he had changed the tattered
garments, and she missed the dark beard and long hair. Still he
was not the Venters of old. As he came up the steps she felt
herself pointing to the pack, and heard herself speaking words
that were meaningless to her. He said good-by; he kissed her,
released her, and turned away. His tall figure blurred in her
sight, grew dim through dark, streaked vision, and then he
vanished.
Twilight fell around Withersteen House, and dusk and night.
Little Fay slept; but Jane lay with strained, aching eyes. She
heard the wind moaning in the cottonwoods and mice squeaking in
the walls. The night was interminably long, vet she prayed to
hold back the dawn. What would another day bring forth? The
blackness of her room seemed blacker for the sad, entering gray
of morning light. She heard the chirp of awakening birds, and
fancied she caught a faint clatter of hoofs. Then low, dull
distant, throbbed a heavy gunshot. She had expected it, was
waiting for it; nevertheless, an electric shock checked her
heart, froze the very living fiber of her bones. That vise-like
hold on her faculties apparently did not relax for a long time,
and it was a voice under her window that released
her.
"Jane!...Jane!" softly called Lassiter.
She answered somehow.
"It's all right. Venters got away. I thought mebbe you'd heard
that shot, en' I was worried some."
"What was it--who fired?"
"Well--some fool feller tried to stop Venters out there in the
sage--an' he only stopped lead!...I think it'll be all right. I
haven't seen or heard of any other fellers round. Venters'll go
through safe. An', Jane, I've got Bells saddled, an' I'm going to
trail Venters. Mind, I won't show myself unless he falls foul of
somebody an' needs me. I want to see if this place where he's
goin' is safe for him. He says nobody can track him there. I
never seen the place yet I couldn't track a man to. Now, Jane,
you stay indoors while I'm gone, an' keep close watch on Fay.
Will you?"
"Yes! Oh yes!"
"An' another thing, Jane," he continued, then paused for
long--"another thing--if you ain't here when I come back--if
you're gone--don't fear, I'll trail you--I'll find you out."
"My dear Lassiter, where could I be gone--as you put it?" asked
Jane, in curious surprise.
"I reckon you might be somewhere. Mebbe tied in an old barn--or
corralled in some gulch--or chained in a cave! Milly Erne
was--till she give in! Mebbe that's news to you....Well, if
you're gone I'll hunt for you."
"No, Lassiter," she replied, sadly and low. "If I'm gone just
forget the unhappy woman whose blinded selfishdeceit you repaid
with kindness and love."
She heard a deep, muttering curse, under his breath, and then the
silvery tinkling of his spurs as he moved away.
Jane entered upon the duties of that day with a settled, gloomy
calm. Disaster hung in the dark clouds, in the shade, in the
humid west wind. Blake, when he reported, appeared without his
usual cheer; and Jerd wore a harassed look of a worn and worried
man. And when Judkins put in appearance, riding a lame horse, and
dismounted with the cramp of a rider, his dust-covered figure and
his darkly grim, almost dazed expression told Jane of dire
calamity. She had no need of words.
"Miss Withersteen, I have to report--loss of the--white herd,"
said Judkins, hoarsely.
"Come, sit down, you look played out," replied Jane,
solicitously. She brought him brandy and food, and while he
partook of refreshments, of which he appeared badly in need, she
asked no questions.
"No one rider--could hev done more--Miss Withersteen," he went
on, presently.
"Judkins, don't be distressed. You've done more than any other
rider. I've long expected to lose the white herd. It's no
surprise. It's in line with other things that are happening. I'm
grateful for your service."
"Miss Withersteen, I knew how you'd take it. But if anythin',
that makes it harder to tell. You see, a feller wants to do so
much fer you, an' I'd got fond of my job. We led the herd a ways
off to the north of the break in the valley. There was a big
level an' pools of water an' tip-top browse. But the cattle was
in a high nervous condition. Wild-- as wild as antelope! You see,
they'd been so scared they never slept. I ain't a-goin' to tell
you of the many tricks that were pulled off out there in the
sage. But there wasn't a day for weeks thet the herd didn't get
started to run. We allus managed to ride 'em close an' drive 'em
back an' keep 'em bunched. Honest, Miss Withersteen, them steers
was thin. They was thin when water and grass was everywhere. Thin
at this season--thet'll tell you how your steers was pestered.
Fer instance, one night a strange runnin' streak of fire run
right through the herd. That streak was a coyote--with an oiled
an' blazin' tail! Fer I shot it an' found out. We had hell with
the herd that night, an' if the sage an' grass hadn't been
wet--we, hosses, steers, an' all would hev burned up. But I said
I wasn't goin' to tell you any of the tricks....Strange now, Miss
Withersteen, when the stampede did come it was from natural
cause-- jest a whirlin' devil of dust. You've seen the like
often. An' this wasn't no big whirl, fer the dust was mostly
settled. It had dried out in a little swale, an' ordinarily no
steer would ever hev run fer it. But the herd was nervous en'
wild. An' jest as Lassiter said, when that bunch of white steers
got to movin' they was as bad as buffalo. I've seen some buffalo
stampedes back in Nebraska, an' this bolt of the steers was the
same kind.
"I tried to mill the herd jest as Lassiter did. But I wasn't
equal to it, Miss Withersteen. I don't believe the rider lives
who could hev turned thet herd. We kept along of the herd fer
miles, an' more 'n one of my boys tried to get the steers
a-millin'. It wasn't no use. We got off level ground, goin' down,
an' then the steers ran somethin' fierce. We left the little
gullies an' washes level-full of dead steers. Finally I saw the
herd was makin' to pass a kind of low pocket between ridges.
There was a hog-back--as we used to call 'em--a pile of rocks
stickin' up, and I saw the herd was goin' to split round it, or
swing out to the left. An' I wanted 'em to go to the right so
mebbe we'd be able to drive 'em into the pocket. So, with all my
boys except three, I rode hard to turn the herd a little to the
him. There was a hard, scrapin' sound of feet, a loud cry, an'
then some whisperin', an' after that stillness you could cut with
a knife. Tull was there, an' that fat party who once tried to
throw a gun on me, an' other important-lookin' men, en' that
little frog-legged feller who was with Tull the day I rode in
here. I wish you could have seen their faces, 'specially Tull's
an' the fat party's. But there ain't no use of me tryin' to tell
you how they looked.
"Well, Venters an' I stood there in the middle of the room with
that batch of men all in front of us, en' not a blamed one of
them winked an eyelash or moved a finger. It was natural, of
course, for me to notice many of them packed guns. That's a way
of mine, first noticin' them things. Venters spoke up, an' his
voice sort of chilled an' cut, en' he told Tull he had a few
things to say."
Here Lassiter paused while he turned his sombrero round and
round, in his familiar habit, and his eyes had the look of a man
seeing over again some thrilling spectacle, and under his red
bronze there was strange animation.
"Like a shot, then, Venters told Tull that the friendship between
you an' him was all over, an' he was leaving your place. He said
you'd both of you broken off in the hope of propitiatin' your
people, but you hadn't changed your mind otherwise, an' never
would.
"Next he spoke up for you. I ain't goin' to tell you what he
said. Only--no other woman who ever lived ever had such tribute!
You had a champion, Jane, an' never fear that those thick-skulled
men don't know you now. It couldn't be otherwise. He spoke the
ringin', lightnin' truth....Then he accused Tull of the
underhand, miserablerobbery of a helpless woman. He told Tull
where the red herd was, of a deal made with Oldrin', that Jerry
Card had made the deal. I thought Tull was goin' to drop, an'
that little frog-legged cuss, he looked some limp an' white. But
Venters's voice would have kept anybody's legs from bucklin'. I
was stiff myself. He went on an' called Tull--called him every
bad name ever known to a rider, an' then some. He cursed Tull. I
never hear a man get such a cursin'. He laughed in scorn at the
idea of Tull bein' a minister. He said Tull an' a few more dogs
of hell builded their empire out of the hearts of such innocent
an' God-fearin' women as Jane Withersteen. He called Tull a
binder of women, a callous beast who hid behind a mock mantle of
righteousness--an' the last an' lowest coward on the face of the
earth. To prey on weak women through their religion--that was the
last unspeakable crime!
"Then he finished, an' by this time he'd almost lost his voice.
But his whisper was enough. 'Tull,' he said, 'she begged me not
to draw on you to-day. She would pray for you if you burned her
at the stake....But listen!...I swear if you and I ever come face
to face again, I'll kill you!'
"We backed out of the door then, an' up the road. But nobody
follered us."
Jane found herself weepingpassionately" target="_blank" title="ad.多情地；热烈地">passionately. She had not been
conscious of it till Lassiter ended his story, and she
experienced exquisite pain and relief in shedding tears. Long had
her eyes been dry, her grief deep; long had her emotions been
dumb. Lassiter's story put her on the rack; the appalling nature
of Venters's act and speech had no parallel as an outrage; it was
worse than bloodshed. Men like Tull had been shot, but had one
ever been so terribly denounced in public? Over-mounting her
horror, an uncontrollable, quivering passion shook her very soul.
It was sheer human glory in the deed of a fearless man. It was
hot, primitiveinstinct to live--to fight. It was a kind of mad
joy in Venters's chivalry. It was close to the wrath that had
first shaken her in the beginning of this war waged upon
her.
"Well, well, Jane, don't take it that way," said Lassiter, in
evident distress. "I had to tell you. There's some things a
feller jest can't keep. It's strange you give up on hearin' that,
when all this long time you've been the gamest woman I ever seen.
But I don't know women. Mebbe there's reason for you to cry. I
know this--nothin' ever rang in my soul an' so filled it as what
Venters did. I'd like to have done it, but--I'm only good for
throwin' a gun, en' it seems you hate that....Well, I'll be goin'
now."
"Where?"
"Venters took Wrangle to the stable. The sorrel's shy a shoe, an'
I've got to help hold the big devil an' put on another."
"Tell Bern to come for the pack I want to give him--and--and to
say good-by," called Jane, as Lassiter went out.
Jane passed the rest of that day in a vain endeavor to decide
what and what not to put in the pack for Venters. This task was
the last she would ever perform for him, and the gifts were the
last she would ever make him. So she picked and chose and
rejected, and chose again, and often paused in sad revery, and
began again, till at length she filled the pack.
It was about sunset, and she and Fay had finished supper and were
sitting in the court, when Venters's quick steps rang on the
stones. She scarcely knew him, for he had changed the tattered
garments, and she missed the dark beard and long hair. Still he
was not the Venters of old. As he came up the steps she felt
herself pointing to the pack, and heard herself speaking words
that were meaningless to her. He said good-by; he kissed her,
released her, and turned away. His tall figure blurred in her
sight, grew dim through dark, streaked vision, and then he
vanished.
Twilight fell around Withersteen House, and dusk and night.
Little Fay slept; but Jane lay with strained, aching eyes. She
heard the wind moaning in the cottonwoods and mice squeaking in
the walls. The night was interminably long, vet she prayed to
hold back the dawn. What would another day bring forth? The
blackness of her room seemed blacker for the sad, entering gray
of morning light. She heard the chirp of awakening birds, and
fancied she caught a faint clatter of hoofs. Then low, dull
distant, throbbed a heavy gunshot. She had expected it, was
waiting for it; nevertheless, an electric shock checked her
heart, froze the very living fiber of her bones. That vise-like
hold on her faculties apparently did not relax for a long time,
and it was a voice under her window that released
her.
"Jane!...Jane!" softly called Lassiter.
She answered somehow.
"It's all right. Venters got away. I thought mebbe you'd heard
that shot, en' I was worried some."
"What was it--who fired?"
"Well--some fool feller tried to stop Venters out there in the
sage--an' he only stopped lead!...I think it'll be all right. I
haven't seen or heard of any other fellers round. Venters'll go
through safe. An', Jane, I've got Bells saddled, an' I'm going to
trail Venters. Mind, I won't show myself unless he falls foul of
somebody an' needs me. I want to see if this place where he's
goin' is safe for him. He says nobody can track him there. I
never seen the place yet I couldn't track a man to. Now, Jane,
you stay indoors while I'm gone, an' keep close watch on Fay.
Will you?"
"Yes! Oh yes!"
"An' another thing, Jane," he continued, then paused for
long--"another thing--if you ain't here when I come back--if
you're gone--don't fear, I'll trail you--I'll find you out."
"My dear Lassiter, where could I be gone--as you put it?" asked
Jane, in curious surprise.
"I reckon you might be somewhere. Mebbe tied in an old barn--or
corralled in some gulch--or chained in a cave! Milly Erne
was--till she give in! Mebbe that's news to you....Well, if
you're gone I'll hunt for you."
"No, Lassiter," she replied, sadly and low. "If I'm gone just
forget the unhappy woman whose blinded selfishdeceit you repaid
with kindness and love."
She heard a deep, muttering curse, under his breath, and then the
silvery tinkling of his spurs as he moved away.
Jane entered upon the duties of that day with a settled, gloomy
calm. Disaster hung in the dark clouds, in the shade, in the
humid west wind. Blake, when he reported, appeared without his
usual cheer; and Jerd wore a harassed look of a worn and worried
man. And when Judkins put in appearance, riding a lame horse, and
dismounted with the cramp of a rider, his dust-covered figure and
his darkly grim, almost dazed expression told Jane of dire
calamity. She had no need of words.
"Miss Withersteen, I have to report--loss of the--white herd,"
said Judkins, hoarsely.
"Come, sit down, you look played out," replied Jane,
solicitously. She brought him brandy and food, and while he
partook of refreshments, of which he appeared badly in need, she
asked no questions.
"No one rider--could hev done more--Miss Withersteen," he went
on, presently.
"Judkins, don't be distressed. You've done more than any other
rider. I've long expected to lose the white herd. It's no
surprise. It's in line with other things that are happening. I'm
grateful for your service."
"Miss Withersteen, I knew how you'd take it. But if anythin',
that makes it harder to tell. You see, a feller wants to do so
much fer you, an' I'd got fond of my job. We led the herd a ways
off to the north of the break in the valley. There was a big
level an' pools of water an' tip-top browse. But the cattle was
in a high nervous condition. Wild-- as wild as antelope! You see,
they'd been so scared they never slept. I ain't a-goin' to tell
you of the many tricks that were pulled off out there in the
sage. But there wasn't a day for weeks thet the herd didn't get
started to run. We allus managed to ride 'em close an' drive 'em
back an' keep 'em bunched. Honest, Miss Withersteen, them steers
was thin. They was thin when water and grass was everywhere. Thin
at this season--thet'll tell you how your steers was pestered.
Fer instance, one night a strange runnin' streak of fire run
right through the herd. That streak was a coyote--with an oiled
an' blazin' tail! Fer I shot it an' found out. We had hell with
the herd that night, an' if the sage an' grass hadn't been
wet--we, hosses, steers, an' all would hev burned up. But I said
I wasn't goin' to tell you any of the tricks....Strange now, Miss
Withersteen, when the stampede did come it was from natural
cause-- jest a whirlin' devil of dust. You've seen the like
often. An' this wasn't no big whirl, fer the dust was mostly
settled. It had dried out in a little swale, an' ordinarily no
steer would ever hev run fer it. But the herd was nervous en'
wild. An' jest as Lassiter said, when that bunch of white steers
got to movin' they was as bad as buffalo. I've seen some buffalo
stampedes back in Nebraska, an' this bolt of the steers was the
same kind.
"I tried to mill the herd jest as Lassiter did. But I wasn't
equal to it, Miss Withersteen. I don't believe the rider lives
who could hev turned thet herd. We kept along of the herd fer
miles, an' more 'n one of my boys tried to get the steers
a-millin'. It wasn't no use. We got off level ground, goin' down,
an' then the steers ran somethin' fierce. We left the little
gullies an' washes level-full of dead steers. Finally I saw the
herd was makin' to pass a kind of low pocket between ridges.
There was a hog-back--as we used to call 'em--a pile of rocks
stickin' up, and I saw the herd was goin' to split round it, or
swing out to the left. An' I wanted 'em to go to the right so
mebbe we'd be able to drive 'em into the pocket. So, with all my
boys except three, I rode hard to turn the herd a little to the
- spectacle [´spektəkəl]
n.展览；表演；景象 (初中英语单词) - otherwise [´ʌðəwaiz] ad.另外 conj.否则 (初中英语单词)
- champion [´tʃæmpiən] n.冠军 vt.拥护 (初中英语单词)
- miserable [´mizərəbəl] a.悲惨的；可怜的 (初中英语单词)
- helpless [´helpləs] a.无助的，无依靠的 (初中英语单词)
- minister [´ministə] n.部长；大臣 v.伺候 (初中英语单词)
- coward [´kauəd] n.胆怯者 a.胆小的 (初中英语单词)
- whisper [´wispə] v.耳语 n.低语；沙沙声 (初中英语单词)
- relief [ri´li:f] n.救济；援救；减轻 (初中英语单词)
- parallel [´pærəlel] a.平行的 n.平行线 (初中英语单词)
- terribly [´terəbli] ad.可怕地 (初中英语单词)
- passion [´pæʃən] n.激情；激怒；恋爱 (初中英语单词)
- primitive [´primitiv] a.原始的 n.原始人 (初中英语单词)
- instinct [´instiŋkt] n.本能；直觉；天资 (初中英语单词)
- shaken [´ʃeikən] shake的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- distress [di´stres] n.痛苦 vt.使苦恼 (初中英语单词)
- stable [´steibəl] n.马棚 a.稳固的 (初中英语单词)
- sunset [´sʌnset] n.日落；晚霞 (初中英语单词)
- vision [´viʒən] n.视觉；想象力；幻影 (初中英语单词)
- nevertheless [,nevəðə´les] conj.&ad.然而；不过 (初中英语单词)
- softly [´sɔftli] ad.软化地；柔和地 (初中英语单词)
- reckon [´rekən] v.计算；认为；估计 (初中英语单词)
- unhappy [ʌn´hæpi] a.不幸的；不快乐的 (初中英语单词)
- selfish [´selfiʃ] a.自私的，利己的 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- disaster [di´zɑ:stə] n.灾难，不幸 (初中英语单词)
- valley [´væli] n.谷；河谷；流域 (初中英语单词)
- nervous [´nə:vəs] a.神经的；神经过敏的 (初中英语单词)
- instance [´instəns] n.例子，实例，例证 (初中英语单词)
- fierce [fiəs] a.残忍的；强烈的 (初中英语单词)
- stillness [´stilnis] n.不动；无声，寂静 (高中英语单词)
- mantle [´mæntl] n.斗蓬 v.覆盖；笼罩 (高中英语单词)
- exquisite [ik´skwizit] a.精巧的；敏锐的 (高中英语单词)
- outrage [´aut,reidʒ] n.残暴 vt.虐待；伤害 (高中英语单词)
- fearless [´fiələs] a.不怕的，无畏的 (高中英语单词)
- chivalry [´ʃivəlri] n.侠义；骑士团 (高中英语单词)
- clatter [´klætə] n.&v.喧嚷；骚动 (高中英语单词)
- apparently [ə´pærəntli] ad.显然，表面上地 (高中英语单词)
- indoors [,in´dɔ:z] ad.在屋里 (高中英语单词)
- streak [stri:k] n.纹理 v.用线条(条纹) (高中英语单词)
- ordinarily [´ɔ:dinərili] ad.平常地；普通地 (高中英语单词)
- buffalo [´bʌfələu] n.水牛；野牛 (高中英语单词)
- robbery [´rɔbəri] n.抢劫(案)；盗取 (英语四级单词)
- passionately [´pæʃənitli] ad.多情地；热烈地 (英语四级单词)
- appalling [ə´pɔ:liŋ] a.令人震惊的 (英语四级单词)
- deceit [di´si:t] n.欺骗 (英语四级单词)
- brandy [´brændi] n.白兰地酒 (英语四级单词)
- happening [´hæpəniŋ] n.事件，偶然发生的事 (英语四级单词)
- unspeakable [ʌn´spi:kəbl] a.不能以言语表达的 (英语六级单词)
- weeping [´wi:piŋ] a.&n.哭泣(的) (英语六级单词)
- bloodshed [´blʌdʃed] n.流血；杀人 (英语六级单词)
- wrangle [´ræŋgəl] v.争论，口角，争吵 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- awakening [ə´weikəniŋ] n.&a.觉醒(中的) (英语六级单词)
- darkly [´dɑ:kli] adv.暗，黑；暗中 (英语六级单词)
- browse [brauz] vi.浏览 n.放牧 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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