原标题: 青岛李村看妇科价格同城时讯
Enough was enough. After four years of devoting herself to Ward, Leah had given up. “I’m moving to New York,” she said. He couldn’t believe it. He begged her to give him one more chance. She said she had aly given him “one more chance” too many times.“I asked you to marry me, but you said you weren’t y to get married. You’re 50 years old—when will you be y!? I asked you to find us an apartment, so that we could live together; you didn’t. As a nervous realtor, I asked you to stay with me when I had to sit in open houses by myself on weekends. You didn’t. I asked you to help my son find a scholarship or grant so that he could attend a good college. You didn’t. Shall I go on?”He said he got the picture. He apologized. “My priorities weren’t right; now I realize that you are my only priority.”She said his apology was too little, too late. She had aly bought an airline ticket to New York City; her flight was Monday evening.His jaw dropped. “You’re not serious! What are you going to do in New York?” he asked. “You don’t know anyone there. You’ve never even been there. You can’t just fly into New York all alone and start wandering around. It’s a dangerous place. And the places that aren’t dangerous are expensive. You don’t have any money!”She said she had enough money to stay in a hotel until she found an apartment and a job. She had always wanted to live in a big, exciting city like New York. “That’s where I can start my own business,” she said, “and maybe find a man I can depend on!” Article/201108/150533对伊丽莎白说来,随便什么计划也不会比这个计划更中她的意了,她毫不犹豫地接受了这个邀请,而且非常感激。 ;If you will only tell me what sort of girl Miss King is, I shall know what to think. ;;She is a very good kind of girl, I believe. I know no harm of her. ;;But he paid her not the smallest attention till her grandfather#39;s death made her mistress of this fortune. ;;No--what should he? If it were not allowable for him to gain MY affections because I had no money, what occasion could there be for making love to a girl whom he did not care about, and who was equally poor?;;But there seems an indelicacy in directing his attentions towards her so soon after this event. ;;A man in distressed circumstances has not time for all those elegant decorums which other people may observe. If SHE does not object to it, why should WE?;;HER not objecting does not justify HIM. It only shows her being deficient in something herself--sense or feeling. ;;Well, ; cried Elizabeth, ;have it as you choose. HE shall be mercenary, and SHE shall be foolish. ;;No, Lizzy, that is what I do NOT choose. I should be sorry, you know, to think ill of a young man who has lived so long in Derbyshire. ;;Oh! if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young men who live in Derbyshire; and their intimate friends who live in Hertfordshire are not much better. I am sick of them all. Thank Heaven! I am going to-morrow where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has neither manner nor sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing, after all. ;;Take care, Lizzy; that speech savours strongly of disappointment. ;Before they were separated by the conclusion of the play, she had the unexpected happiness of an invitation to accompany her uncle and aunt in a tour of pleasure which they proposed taking in the summer.;We have not determined how far it shall carry us, ; said Mrs. Gardiner, ;but, perhaps, to the Lakes. ;No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, and her acceptance of the invitation was most y and grateful. ;Oh, my dear, dear aunt, ; she rapturously cried, ;what delight! what felicity! You give me fresh life and vigour. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are young men to rocks and mountains? Oh! what hours of transport we shall spend! And when we DO return, it shall not be like other travellers, without being able to give one accurate idea of anything. We WILL know where we have gone--we WILL recollect what we have seen. Lakes, mountains, and rivers shall not be jumbled together in our imaginations; nor when we attempt to describe any particular scene, will we begin quarreling about its relative situation. Let OUR first effusions be less insupportable than those of the generality of travellers. ; Article/201110/156505

班纳特先生果然料想得完全正确,他这位表侄确实象他所想象的那样荒谬,他听得非常有趣,不过表面上却竭力保持镇静,除了偶而朝着伊丽莎白望一眼以外,他并不需要别人来分享他这份愉快。 ;Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at court. ;;Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town; and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine one day, has deprived the British court of its brightest ornaments. Her ladyship seemed pleased with the idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies. I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess, and that the most elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would be adorned by her. These are the kind of little things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay. ;;You judge very properly, ; said Mr. Bennet, ;and it is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?;;They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible. ;Mr. Bennet#39;s expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment, maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance, and, except in an occasional glance at Elizabeth, requiring no partner in his pleasure.By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and Mr. Bennet was glad to take his guest into the drawing-room again, and, when tea was over, glad to invite him to aloud to the ladies. Mr. Collins ily assented, and a book was produced; but, on beholding it (for everything announced it to be from a circulating library), he started back, and begging pardon, protested that he never novels. Kitty stared at him, and Lydia exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some deliberation he chose Fordyce#39;s Sermons. Lydia gaped as he opened the volume, and before he had, with very monotonous solemnity, three pages, she interrupted him with:;Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Phillips talks of turning away Richard; and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town. ;Lydia was bid by her two eldest sisters to hold her tongue; but Mr. Collins, much offended, laid aside his book, and said:;I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by books of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes me, I confess; for, certainly, there can be nothing so advantageous to them as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin. ;Then turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist at backgammon. Mr. Bennet accepted the challenge, observing that he acted very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling amusements. Mrs. Bennet and her daughters apologised most civilly for Lydia#39;s interruption, and promised that it should not occur again, if he would resume his book; but Mr. Collins, after assuring them that he bore his young cousin no ill-will, and should never resent her behaviour as any affront, seated himself at another table with Mr. Bennet, and prepared for backgammon. Article/201107/144564

Guardian On The Road 04This brought back the fear in me and I was sure she was going to pull a stunt. I watched as she walked up toward the door, the fog still fairly thick and I was certain that she never even touched the front door! She turned to come back toward us and I gripped the flashlight with all my might as I leaned up toward my mom. She came up to the window and held out her hand. My mom said "No I am just happy to help". She made a motion to insist that mom take what she was giving her. My mom then took it. She closed my mother’s fist over what she had given her and said a few words. My mom just held it in her hand. The woman turned and walked back towards the door. We finally drove off and I asked what she had said. My mom said that she had said that we were some very good people and she blessed us. She said that she wasn't sure about taking a ride from strangers but she had no other way. Then she told my mom to get home safely because the fog was bad.  我又一次感到恐惧,我知道她要有什么不轨行为了。我看着她走向门边,雾还是很大,但我敢确定她根本没有碰门就转身向我们走来,我向前倾身靠近妈妈,用尽全力抓紧电筒。她走到车窗边,伸出手。“不必了,我们很乐意帮忙。”她示意妈妈接她给的东西。于是妈妈接了过来。那女人把东西放进妈妈手里,然后把妈妈的手合上并对她说了几句话。妈妈手里一直握着那东西。然后那女人又转身走向了门边。我们重新开车上路,我问妈妈那女人对她说了什么。妈妈告诉我她说我们是好人并祝福我们。还说她自己也不知道搭陌生人的车是否明智之举,但除此之外也没有别的办法了。她还告诉妈妈一定要平安到家,因为雾气实在是太大了。 Article/200812/59764有声名著之海底两万里 Chapter10海底两万里TwentyThousand.Leagues.Under.the.Sea原著下载 相关名著:有声名著之查泰莱夫人的情人有声名著之简爱有声名著之呼啸山庄有声名著之傲慢与偏见有声名著之儿子与情人有声名著之红与黑有声名著之歌剧魅影有声名著之了不起的盖茨比有声名著之远大前程有声名著之巴斯史维尔猎犬 Article/200809/50479CHAPTER XIIFifty-twoIN the black prison of the Conciergerie, the doomed of the day awaited their fate. They were in number as the weeks of the year. Fifty-two were to roll that afternoon on the life-tide of the city to the boundless everlasting sea. Before their cells were quit of them, new occupants were appointed; before their blood ran into the blood spilled yesterday, the blood that was to mingle with theirs to-morrow was aly set apart. Two score and twelve were told off From the farmer-general of seventy, whose riches could not buy his life, to the seamstress of twenty, whose poverty and obscurity could not save her. Physical diseases, engendered in the vices and neglects of men, will seize on victims of all degrees; and the frightful moral disorder, born of unspeakable suffering, intolerable oppression, and heartless indifference, smote equally without distinction. Charles Darnay, alone in a cell, had sustained himself with no flattering delusion since he came to it from the Tribunal. In every line of the narrative he had heard, he had heard his condemnation. He had fully comprehended that no personal influence could possibly save him, that he was virtually sentenced by the millions, and that units could avail him nothing. Nevertheless, it was not easy, with the face of his beloved wife fresh before him, to compose his mind to what it must bear. His hold on life was strong, and it was very, very hard to loosen; by gradual efforts and degrees unclosed a little here, it clenched the tighter there; and when he brought his strength to bear on that hand and it yielded, this was closed again. There was a hurry, too, in all his thoughts, a turbulent and heated working of his heart, that contended against resignation. If for a moment, he did feel resigned, then his wife and child who had to live after him, seemed to protest and to make it a selfish thing. But, all this was at first. Before long, the consideration that there was no disgrace in the fate he must meet, and that numbers went the same road wrongfully, and trod it firmly every day, sprang up to stimulate him. Next followed the thought that much of the future peace of mind enjoyable by the dear ones, depended on his quiet fortitude. So, by degrees he calmed into the better state, when he could raise his thoughts much higher, and draw comfort down. Before it had set in dark on the night of his condemnation, he had travelled thus far on his last way. Being allowed to purchase the means of writing, and a light, he sat down to write until such time as the prison lamps should be extinguished. He wrote a long letter to Lucie, showing her that he had known nothing of her father's imprisonment, until he had heard of it from herself, and that he had been as ignorant as she of his father's and uncle's responsibility for that misery, until the paper had been . He had aly explained to her that his concealment from herself of the name he had relinquished, was the one condition--fully intelligible now--that her father had attached to their betrothal, and was the one promise he had still exacted on the morning of their marriage. He entreated her, for her father's sake, never to seek to know whether her father had become oblivious of the existence of the paper, or had had it recalled to him (for the moment, or for good), by the story of the Tower, on that old Sunday under the dear old plane-tree in the garden. If he had preserved any definite remembrance of it, there could be no doubt that he had supposed it destroyed with the Bastille, when he had found no mention of it among the relics of prisoners which the populace had discovered there, and which had been described to all the world. He besought her--though he added that he knew it was needless--to console her father, by impressing him through every tender means she could think of, with the truth that he had done nothing for which he could justly reproach himself, but had uniformly forgotten himself for their joint sakes. Next to her preservation of his own last grateful love and blessing, and her overcoming of her sorrow, to devote herself to their dear child, he adjured her, as they would meet in Heaven, to comfort her father. To her father himself he wrote in the same strain; but, he told her father that he expressly confided his wife and child to his care. And he told him this, very strongly, with the hope of rousing him from any despondency or dangerous retrospect towards which he foresaw he might be tending. To Mr. Lorry, he commended them all, and explained his worldly affairs. That done, with many added sentences of grateful friendship and warm attachment, all was done. He never thought of Carton. His mind was so full of the others, that he never once thought of him. He had time to finish these letters before the lights were put out. When he lay down on his straw bed, he thought he had done with this world. But, it beckoned him back in his sleep, and showed itself in shining forms. Free and happy, back in the old house in Soho (though it had nothing in it like the real house), unaccountably released and light of heart, he was with Lucie again, and she told him it was all a dream, and he had never gone away. A pause of forgetfulness, and then lie had even suffered, and had come back to her, dead and at peace, and yet there was no difference in him. Another pause of oblivion, and he awoke in the sombre morning, unconscious where he was or what had happened, until it flashed upon his mind, `this is the day of my death' Thus, had he come through the hours, to the day when the fifty-two heads were to fall. And now, while he was composed, and hoped that he could meet the end with quiet heroism, a new action began in his waking thoughts, which was very difficult to master. He had never seen the instrument that was to terminate his life. How high it was from the ground, how many steps it had, where he would be stood, how he would be touched, whether the touching hands would be dyed red, which way his face would be turned, whether he would be the first, or might be the last: these and many similar questions, in no wise directed by his will, obtruded themselves over and over again, countless times. Neither were they connected with fear: he was conscious of no fear. Rather, they originated in a strange besetting desire to know what to do when the time came; a desire gigantically disproportionate to the few swift moments to which it referred; a wondering that was more like the wondering of some other spirit within his, than his own. The hours went on as lie walked to and fro, and the clocks struck the numbers he would never hear again. Nine cone for ever, ten gone for ever, eleven gone for ever, twelve coming on to pass away. After a hard contest with that eccentric action of thought which had last perplexed him, he had got the better of it. He walked up and down, softly repeating their names to himself. The worst of the strife was over. He could walk up and down, free from distracting fancies, praying for himself and for them. Twelve gone for ever. He had been apprised that the final hour was Three, and he knew he would be summoned some time earlier, inasmuch as the tumbrils jolted heavily and slowly through the streets. Therefore, he resolved to keep Two before his mind, as the hour, and so to strengthen himself in the interval that he might be able, after that time, to strengthen others. Walking regularly to and fro with his arms folded on his breast, a very different man from the prisoner, who had walked to and fro at La Force, he heard One struck away from him, without surprise. The hour had measured like most other hours. Devoutly thankful to Heaven for his recovered self-possession, he thought, `There is but another now,' and turned to walk again. Footsteps in the stone passage outside the door. He stopped. The key was put in the lock, and turned. Before the door was opened, or as it opened, a man said in a low voice, in English: `He has never seen me here; I have kept out of his way. Go you in alone; I wait near. Lose no time!' The door was quickly opened and closed, and there stood before him face to face, quiet, intent upon him, with the light of a smile on his features, and a cautionary finger on his lip, Sydney Carton. There was something so bright and remarkable in his look, that, for the first moment, the prisoner misdoubted him to be an apparition of his own imagining. But, he spoke, and it was his voice; he took the prisoner's hand, and it was his real grasp. `Of all the people upon earth, you least expected to see me?' he said. `I could not believe it to be you. I can scarcely believe it now. You are not'--the apprehension came suddenly into his mind--`a prisoner?' `No. I am accidentally possessed of a power over one of the keepers here, and in virtue of it I stand before you. I come from her--your wife, dear Darnay.' The prisoner wrung his hand. `I bring you a request from her.' `What is it?' `A most earnest, pressing, and emphatic entreaty, addressed to you in the most pathetic tones of the voice so dear to you, that you well remember.' The prisoner turned his face partly aside. `You have no time to ask me why I bring it, or what it means; I have no time to tell you. You must comply with it--take off those boots you wear, and draw on these of mine.' There was a chair against the wall of the cell, behind the prisoner. Carton, pressing forward, had aly, with the speed of lightning, got him down into it, and stood over him, barefoot. `Draw on these boots of mine. Put your hands to them; put your will to them. Quick!' `Carton, there is no escaping from this place; it never can be done. You will only die with me. It is madness.' `It would be madness if I asked you to escape; but do I? When I ask you to pass out at that door, tell me it is madness and remain here. Change that cravat for this of mine, that coat for this of mine. While you do it, let me take this ribbon from your hair, and shake out your hair like this of mine!' With wonderful quickness, and with a strength both of will and action, that appeared quite supernatural, he forced all these changes upon him. The prisoner was like a young child in his hands. `Carton! Dear Carton! It is madness. It cannot be accomplished, it never can be done, it has been attempted, and has always failed. I implore you not to add your death to the bitterness of mine. `Do I ask you, my dear Darnay, to pass the door? When I ask that, refuse. There are pen and ink and paper on this table. Is your hand steady enough to write?' `It was when you came in. `Steady it again, and write what I shall dictate. Quick, friend, quick!' Pressing his hand to his bewildered head, Darnay sat down at the table. Carton, with his right hand in his breast, stood close beside him. `Write exactly as I speak.' `To whom do I address it?' `To no one.' Carton still had his hand in his breast. `Do I date it?' `No.' The prisoner looked up, at each question. Carton, standing over him with his hand in his breast, looked down. ```If you remember,''' said Carton, dictating, ```the words that passed between us, long ago, you will ily comprehend this when you see it. You do remember them, I know. It is not in your nature to forget them.''' He was drawing his hand from his breast; the prisoner chancing to look up in his hurried wonder as he wrote, the hand stopped, closing upon something. `Have you written ``forget them!'' Carton asked. `I have. Is that a weapon in your hand?' `No; I am not armed.' `What is it in your hand?' `You shall know directly. Write on; there are but a few words more.' He dictated again. ```I am thankful that the time has come, when I can prove them. That I do so is no subject for regret or grief.''' As he said these words with his eyes fixed on the writer, his hand slowly and softly moved down close to the writer's face. The pen dropped from Darnay's fingers on the table, and he looked about him vacantly. `What vapour is that?' he asked. `Vapour?' `Something that crossed me?' `I am conscious of nothing; there can be nothing here. Take up the pen and finish. Hurry, hurry!' As if his memory were impaired, or his faculties disordered, the prisoner made an effort to rally his attention. As he looked at Carton with clouded eyes and with an altered manner of breathing, Carton--his hand again in his breast--looked steadily at him. `Hurry, hurry !` The prisoner bent over the paper, once more. ```If it had been otherwise;''' Carton's hand was again watchfully and softly stealing down; ```I never should have used the longer opportunity. If it had been otherwise;''' the hand was at the prisoner's face; ```I should but have had so much the more to answer for. If it had been otherwise---''' Carton looked at the pen and saw it was trailing off into unintelligible signs. Carton's hand moved back to his breast no more. The prisoner sprang up with a reproachful look, but Carton's hand was close and firm at his nostrils, and Carton's left arm caught him round the waist. For a few seconds he faintly struggled with the man who had come to lay down his life for him; but, within a minute or so, he was stretched insensible on the ground. Quickly, but with hands as true to the purpose as his heart was, Carton dressed himself in the clothes the prisoner had laid aside, combed back his hair, and tied it with the ribbon the prisoner had worn. Then, he softly called, `Enter there! Come in!' and the Spy presented himself. `You see?' said Carton, looking up, as he kneeled on one knee beside the insensible figure, putting the paper in the breast: `is your hazard very great?' `Mr. Carton,' the Spy answered, with a timid snap of his fingers, `my hazard is not that, in the thick of business here, if you are true to the whole of your bargain.' `Don't fear me. I will be true to the death.' `You must be, Mr. Carton, if the tale of fifty-two is to be right. Being made right by you in that dress, I shall have no fear. `Have no fear! I shall soon be out of the way of harming you, and the rest will soon be far from here, please God! Now, get assistance and take me to the coach.' `You?' said the Spy nervously. `Him, man, with whom I have exchanged. You go out at the gate by which you brought me in? `Of course.' `I was weak and faint when you brought me in, and I am fainter now you take me out. The parting interview has overpowered me. Such a thing has happened here, often, and too often. Your life is in your own hands. Quick! Call assistance!' `You swear not to betray me?' said the trembling Spy, as he paused for a last moment. `Man, man!' returned Carton, stamping his foot; `have I sworn by no solemn vow aly, to go through with this, that you waste the precious moments now? Take him yourself to the court-yard you know of, place him yourself in the carriage, show him yourself to Mr. Lorry, tell him yourself to give him no restorative but air, and to remember my words of last night, and his promise of last night, and drive away!' The Spy withdrew, and Carton seated himself at the table, resting his forehead on his hands. The Spy returned immediately, with two men. `How, then?' said one of them, contemplating the fallen figure. `So afflicted to find that his friend has drawn a prize in the lottery of Sainte Guillotine?' `A good patriot,' said the other, `could hardly have been more afflicted if the Aristocrat had drawn a blank.' They raised the unconscious figure, placed it on a litter they had brought to the door, and bent to carry it away. `The time is short, Evrémonde,' said the Spy, in a warning Voice. `I know it well,' answered Carton. `Be careful of my friend, I entreat you, and leave me. `Come, then, my children,' said Barsad. `Lift him, and come away!' The door closed, and Carton was left alone. Straining his powers of listening to the utmost, he listened for any sound that might denote suspicion or alarm. There was none. Keys turned, doors clashed, footsteps passed along distant passages: no cry was raised, or hurry made, that seemed unusual. Breathing more freely in a little while, he sat down at the table, and listened again until the clock struck Two. Sounds that he was not afraid of, for he divined their meaning, then began to be audible. Several doors were opened in succession, and finally his own. A gaoler, with a list in his hand, looked in, merely saying, `Follow me, Evrémonde!' and he followed into a large dark room, at a distance. It was a dark winter day, and what with the shadows within, and what with the shadows without, he could but dimly discern the others who were brought there to have their arms bound. Some were standing; some seated. Some were lamenting, and in restless motion; but, these were few. The great majority were silent and still, looking fixedly at the ground. As he stood by the wall in a dim corner, while some of the fifty-two were brought in after him, one man stopped in passing, to embrace him, as having a knowledge of him. It thrilled him with a great d of discovery; but the man went on. A very few moments after that, a young woman, with a slight girlish form, a sweet spare face in which there was no vestige of colour, and large widely opened patient eyes, rose from the seat where he had observed her sitting, and came to speak to him. `Citizen Evrémonde,' she said, touching him with her cold hand. `I am a poor little seamstress, who was with you in La Force. He murmured for answer: `True. I forget what you were accused of?' `Plots. Though the just Heaven knows I am innocent of any. Is it likely? Who would think of plotting with a poor little weak creature like me?' The forlorn smile with which she said it, so touched him, that tears started from his eyes. `I am not afraid to die, Citizen Evrémonde, but I have done nothing. I am not unwilling to die, if the Republic which is to do so much good to us poor, will profit by my death; but I do not know how that can be, Citizen Evreémonde. Such a poor weak little creature!' As the last thing on earth that his heart was to warm and soften to, it warmed and softened to this pitiable girl. `I heard you were released, Citizen `Evrémonde. I hoped it was true?' `It was. But, I was again taken and condemned.' `If I may ride with you, Citizen Evrémonde, will you let me hold your hand? I am not afraid, hut I am little and weak, and it will give me more courage.' As the patient eyes were lifted to his face, he saw a sudden doubt in them, and then astonishment. He pressed the work-worn, hunger-worn young fingers, and touched his lips. `Are you dying for him?' she whispered. `And his wife and child. Hush! Yes.' `O you will let me hold your brave hand, stranger?' `Hush! Yes, my poor sister; to the last. The same shadows that are falling on the prison, are falling, in that same hour of the early afternoon, on the Barrier with the crowd about it, when a coach going out of Paris drives up to be examined. `Who goes here? Whom have we within? Papers!' The papers are handed out, and . `Alexandre Manette. Physician. French. Which is he?' This is he; this helpless, inarticulately murmuring, wandering old man pointed out. `Apparently the Citizen-Doctor is not in his right mind? The Revolution-fever will have been too much for him?' Greatly too much for him. `Hah! Many suffer with it. Lucie. His daughter. French. Which is she?' This is she. `Apparently it must be. Lucie, the wife of Evrémonde; is it not'." It is. `Hah! Evrémonde has an assignation elsewhere. Lucie, her child. English. This is she?' She and no other. `Kiss me, child of Evrémonde. Now, thou hast kissed a good Republican; something new in thy family; remember it! Sydney Carton. Advocate. English. Which is he?' He lies here, in this corner of the carriage. He, too, is pointed out. `Apparently the English advocate is in a swoon?' It is hoped he will recover in the fresher air. It is represented that he is not in strong health, and has separated sadly from a friend who is under the displeasure of the Republic. `Is that all? It is not a great deal, that! Many are under the displeasure of the Republic, and must look out at the little window. Jarvis Lorry. Banker. English. Which is he?' `I am he. Necessarily, being the last.' It is Jarvis Lorry who has replied to all the previous questions. It is Jarvis Lorry who has alighted and stands with his hand on the coach door, replying to a group of officials. They leisurely walk round the carriage and leisurely mount the box, to look at what little luggage it carries on the roof; the country-people hanging about, press nearer to the coach doors and greedily stare in; a little child, carried by its mother, has its short arm held out for it, that it may touch the wife of an aristocrat who has gone to the Guillotine. `Behold your papers, Jarvis Lorry, countersigned.' `One can depart, citizen?' `One can depart. Forward, my postilions! A good journey!' `I salute you, citizens.--And the first danger passed!' These are again the words of Jarvis Lorry, as he clasps his hands, and looks upward. There is terror in the carriage, there is weeping, there is the heavy breathing of the insensible traveller. `Are we not going too slowly? Can they not be induced to go faster?' asks Lucie, clinging to the old man. `It would seem like flight, my darling. I must not urge them too much; it would rouse suspicion.' `Look back, look back, and see if we are pursued!' `The road is clear, my dearest. So far, we are not pursued.' Houses in twos and threes pass by us, solitary farms, ruinous buildings, dye-works, tanneries, and the like, open country, avenues of leafless trees. The hard uneven pavement is under us, the soft deep mud is on either side. Sometimes, we strike into the skirting mud, to avoid the stones that clatter us and shake us; sometimes we stick in ruts and sloughs there. The agony of our impatience is then so great, that in our wild alarm and hurry we are for getting out and running--hiding--doing anything but stopping. Out of the open country, in again among ruinous buildings, solitary farms, dye-works, tanneries, and the like, cottages in twos and threes, avenues of leafless trees. Have these men deceived us, and taken us back by another road? Is not this the same place twice over? Thank Heaven, no. A village. Look back, look back, and see if we are pursued! Hush! the posting-house. Leisurely, our four horses are taken out; leisurely, the coach stands in the little street, bereft of horses, and with no likelihood upon it of ever moving again; leisurely, the new horses come into visible existence, one by one; leisurely, the new postilions follow, sucking and plaiting the lashes of their whips; leisurely, the old postilions count their money, make wrong additions, and arrive at dissatisfied results. All the time, our overfraught hearts are beating at a rate that would far outstrip the fastest gallop of the fastest horses ever foaled. At length the new postilions are in their saddles, and the old are left behind. We are through the village, up the hill, and down the hill, and on the low watery grounds. Suddenly)', the postilions exchange speech with animated gesticulation, and the horses-are pulled up, almost on their haunches. We are pursued. `Ho! Within the carriage there. Speak then!' `What is it?' asks Mr. Lorry, looking out at window. `How many did they say? `I do not understand you.' ` At the last post. How many to the Guillotine to-day?' `Fifty-two.' `I said so! A brave number! My fellow-citizen here would have it forty-two; ten more heads are worth having. The Guillotine goes handsomely. I love it. Hi forward. Whoop!' The night comes on dark. He moves more; he is beginning to revive, and to speak intelligibly; he thinks they are still together; he asks him, by his name, what he has in his hand. D pity us, kind Heaven, and help us! Look out, look out, and see if we are pursued. The wind is rushing after us, and the clouds are flying after us, and the moon is plunging after us, and the whole wild night is in pursuit of us; but, so far we are pursued by nothing else. 相关名著: 有声名著之傲慢与偏见 有声名著之儿子与情人 有声名著之红与黑 有声名著之了不起的盖茨比 有声名著之歌剧魅影 有声名著之远大前程 有声名著之巴斯史维尔猎犬 有声名著之吸血鬼 有声名著之野性的呼唤 有声名著之黑骏马 有声名著之海底两万里 有声名著之秘密花园 有声名著之化身士 有声名著之螺丝在拧紧 有声名著之三个火手更多名著gt;gt; Article/200905/71046

Billy Wilder, 1906-2002: He Made Movies That People Will Never ForgetWilder made serious movies dealing with social issues as well as funny movies.VOICE ONE:I'm Mary Tillotson.VOICE TWO:And I'm Steve Ember with the VOA Special English program, PEOPLE IN AMERICA. Today we tell about Billy Wilder. He was the director of some of the greatest American movies.(MUSIC)VOICE ONE:Billy Wilder Many experts say that Billy Wilder changed the history of American movies. He is often called the best movie maker Hollywood has ever had. He was known for making movies that offered sharp social comment and adult sexual situations. Wilder was one of the first directors to do this.Between the middle nineteen thirties and the nineteen eighties, Billy Wilder made almost fifty movies. During that time he received more than twenty nominations from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. He won six of the Oscar awards. His movies have been seen by people around the world. Wilder made famous movies like "Sunset Boulevard", "Some Like It Hot", and "Double Indemnity." He also directed "The Lost Weekend", "The Apartment", and "The Seven Year Itch." VOICE TWO:Samuel Wilder was born in nineteen-oh-six in the former Austro-Hungarian Empire. His birthplace is now part of Poland. His mother had enjoyed spending several years in the ed States when she was young. So she called him Billy because she thought it sounded American.Billy Wilder started law school in Vienna, Austria. Then he decided not to become a lawyer. Instead, he began reporting for a Vienna newspaper. By the nineteen twenties, he was writing movies in Germany.However, the Nazis had risen to power in the nation. Wilder was Jewish, and he recognized that he had no future in Nazi Germany. In nineteen thirty-three, he went to Paris. There he directed a movie for the first time. It was called "The Bad Seed." Then he received word that producers in the ed States had accepted one of his scripts. Billy Wilder left Europe for America. VOICE ONE:Billy Wilder had only eleven dollars when he arrived to settle in the ed States in nineteen thirty-four. He decided to live in the center of American movie making, Hollywood, California. At the time, many people who had left Germany were working there. They helped Wilder get jobs. After a while he formed a writing team with Charles Brackett. The two writers created many films together.Wilder and Brackett wrote several successful movies. One was the nineteen thirty-nine movie, "Ninotchka", starring Greta Garbo. Ernst Lubitsch directed the film. Wilder always praised this man as a friend and teacher whose humor and expert direction greatly influenced his work. (MUSIC)VOICE TWO: In his love stories, Billy Wilder did not follow the Hollywood tradition of sweet boy-meets-girl situations. He had an unusual way of showing relations between men and women. For example, one of his most successful films was "Hold Back the Dawn." The French actor Charles Boyer plays a refugee in this nineteen forty-one film. He marries an American woman so he can enter the ed States.In nineteen forty-four, Billy Wilder made a film called "Double Indemnity." Some critics said this movie established him as one of the greatest Hollywood directors. It told a vicious story about a married woman and her boyfriend. They plot the death of her husband. Charles Brackett thought the story was not moral. So the famous American mystery writer Raymond Chandler was asked to help write the script. VOICE ONE:As a director, Billy Wilder often violated Hollywood customs about social issues. For example, someone who drinks too much alcohol had rarely been a movie subject. Then Wilder directed "The Lost Weekend" in nineteen forty-five. Charles Brackett returned to work on the movie with him. They developed the script from a book by Charles Jackson. Ray Milland plays the part of an alcoholic writer in the movie. It shows that alcohol rules his life, yet he does not admit it. He hides alcohol in his home and says he is not drinking.VOICE TWO:Reports at the time said manufacturers of alcoholic drinks tried to suppress the movie. They did not succeed. The public and critics praised "The Lost Weekend" for its painful honesty. The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences gave Ray Milland the best actor award. Billy Wilder won two Academy Awards. One honored his part in writing the script. The other honored his direction. "The Lost Weekend" also won the first Grand Prix – first prize -- of the Cannes Film Festival in Cannes, France. World War Two ended in nineteen forty-five. Wilder had become an American citizen in nineteen thirty-nine. After the war, Wilder was asked by the ed States Army to go to Germany to help re-organize the movie industry and radio media. The Nazi government had used both for its propaganda. While in Germany, Wilder learned that the Nazis had murdered his sister, his mother and his mother's husband. VOICE ONE:In nineteen fifty, Wilder made "Sunset Boulevard." This movie told of an aging actress in silent movies. She plans to return to movies. Gloria Swanson played this star. More than fifty years later, movie-lovers can still repeat some of her lines.In one of the famous lines in "Sunset Boulevard," Miz Swanson remembers telling the famous director Cecil B. DeMille that she is prepared for him to start filming:(GLORIA SWANSON: "I'm y for my close-up, Mister DeMille." )VOICE TWO:"Sunset Boulevard" won three Academy awards. One honored the writing team of Wilder, Brackett and D. M. Marshman Junior. The movie marked the last time Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett wrote together. Wilder also was highly praised for "Stalag Seventeen", which he both produced and directed. The movie mixes humor and wartime realism. William Holden plays a dishonest American war prisoner in a World War Two German camp for Allied servicemen. Holden won the nineteen fifty-three Academy Award for his part. Wilder was nominated for best director.(MUSIC)VOICE ONE:In nineteen fifty-four, Billy Wilder became an independent producer. He left Paramount Pictures, the motion picture company he had worked with for many years. He left after company officials cut many anti-Nazi comments from a version of "Stalag Seventeen." That version was to be shown in Germany. The next year, Wilder's first movie as an independent filmmaker was a huge success. It was "The Seven Year Itch." He developed the movie from a play by George Axelrod. In this movie, a married man wants to cheat on his wife with a beautiful golden-haired young woman. Marilyn Monroe played the young woman. The part launched her as a major Hollywood success. Some critics said Marilyn Monroe gave her best performances under Billy Wilder's direction.VOICE TWO:In nineteen fifty-nine, Wilder made a funny movie that was very popular. I. A. L. Diamond joined Wilder in writing "Some Like It Hot." It tells about two jazz musicians being chased by criminals. Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis play the musicians. They decide to wear women's clothes and join a band in which all the musicians were women. Marilyn Monroe plays one of the band members. She wants to make Lemmon and Curtis believe she is a musician.(MARILYN MONROE: "I'm Sugar Kane. My mother was a piano teacher and my father was a conductor")VOICE ONE:Billy Wilder continued to make interesting movies through the nineteen sixties and nineteen seventies. As usual, he filled his movies with social comment and sexual situations. Over the years, however, other writers and directors also did this. By the nineteen eighties Wilder no longer was considered the most unusual, creative moviemaker in Hollywood.VOICE TWO:In recent years, however, Billy Wilder received many more awards and honors. Critics praised his gifts to movie making. In nineteen eighty-seven, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences gave him the Irving G. Thalberg Memorial Award. It is the highest award a producer can receive.Wilder died in March, two thousand two. He was ninety-five. A current Hollywood producer said: "Billy Wilder made movies that people will never forget."(MUSIC)VOICE ONE:This VOA Special English program was written by Jerilyn Watson and produced by Caty Weaver. I'm Mary Tillotson.VOICE TWO:And I'm Steve Ember. Join us again next week for another PEOPLE IN AMERICA program on the Voice of America. Article/200803/32050Pride and Prejudice 傲慢与偏见Although first published almost 200 years ago, the novels of Jane Austen have retained their popularity around the world. It is not difficult to find the reasons for their enduring appeal. Austen wrote about universal themes, such as the joy and pain of love, the pursuit of happiness, and the need to be accepted by society. Jane Austen was born in 1775 in a rural part of southern England. She and her family were al avid ers. They even novels, which were often looked down on during that time. Jane began writing before her teens, and had completed a history book by the time she was sixteen.The six romantic novels that Austen wrote before her death in 1817 are still widely . Her first novel published was “Sense and Sensibility” in 1811, but her best-known work, “Pride and Prejudice,” was written around fifteen years earlier. Although originally rejected for publication, the novel, and its intelligent heroine, have come to hold a place among the great classics of English literature. “Pride and Prejudice” tells the story of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, a somewhat absurd couple, and their five young, unmarried daughters. The plot revolves mainly around the second daughter, Elizabeth, and her troublesome romance with the wealthy but arrogant Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy represents the pride of the novel’s title, while the prejudice is represented by Elizabeth’s attitude toward Mr. Darcy. In the novel, Elizabeth must overcome her prejudice against him before she can fall in love.Elizabeth’s romance with Mr. Darcy parallels that of her older sister Jane with his friend, Charles Bingley. Jane’s relationship starts off much more smoothly, and survives the efforts of Bingley’s unpleasant sister, Caroline, to break it up. Other significant subplots include the adventures of Lydia, the youngest Bennet daughter. She brings disgrace on the family by running away with a man named Wickham. Everything ends well, of course. Even Wickham ends up doing the honorable thing and marrying Lydia. Jane and Charles get married. So do Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, once he has overcome his dislike of the Bennet family’s strange ways, and she has seen the decent man behind the pride. “I must confess that I think her as delightful a character as ever appeared in print, and how I shall be able to tolerate those who do not like her at least, I do not know.” In the flowery language of the early 19th century, that was how Jane Austen described her character Elizabeth Bennet in a letter to a friend. Jane Austen need not have feared. Elizabeth has probably attracted more sympathy and admiration than any other of the author’s characters, male or female. She is a lively, quick -witted young woman with a strong sense of justice and a natural goodness that have widesp appeal.One of the most interesting moments in “Pride and Prejudice” comes when Elizabeth reluctantly visits Darcy’s home, and perceives the high respect in which he is held by everyone around him. It is the turning point of the story, when she begins to see beyond Darcy’s pride and develop real feelings for him. It also shows Jane Austen’s skill at dealing with complex emotions and timeless themes in her deceptively simple stories.尽管简·奥斯汀的小说出版已近200年,在全世界却一直享有盛名。找到其吸引力能经久不衰的原因并不难。奥斯汀写作的主题具有普遍性,如爱情的喜悦与痛苦、对幸福的追求和希望被社会接纳的需要。1775年简·奥斯汀出生在英格兰南部的乡下。她和她的家人都酷爱读书。他们甚至连当时被嗤之以鼻的小说都要读。简十几岁以前就开始写作,在十六岁的时候就完成了一部历史书。1817年奥斯汀去世,生前她写的六部浪漫爱情小说至今仍广为流传。1811年她出版了第一部小说《理智与情感》,但她最著名的作品《傲慢与偏见》则在其15年前就完成了。尽管这部小说最初出版曾遭拒绝,但小说和书中聪明伶俐的女主角,已在英国文学的伟大经典作品中占有一席之地。《傲慢与偏见》讲述了班奈特这对有点荒诞的夫妇和他们的五个年轻未婚女儿的故事。情节主要围绕着二女儿伊丽莎白和她与富有却傲慢的达西先生间曲折的爱情。达西先生代表了小说标题中的“傲慢”,而“偏见”则表明了伊丽莎白对达西先生的态度。小说中伊丽莎白必须克她对达西先生的偏见,才能和他相爱。伊丽莎白的简和达西先生的朋友查尔斯·彬利之间的爱情故事,与伊丽莎白和达西先生的故事类似。简的爱情刚开始进行得顺利得多,虽然遭到彬利的卡罗琳,那个不讨人喜欢的姑娘的蓄意破坏,最终还是有情人终成眷属。其它重要的次要情节包括班奈特家小女丽迪雅的冒险。她和一个名叫威克姆的男子私奔而使家族蒙受羞辱。当然,一切都圆满收场。甚至威克姆在最后也做了可敬的事,娶了丽迪雅。简和查尔斯结了婚。伊丽莎白与达西先生也终成眷属─ 一旦达西先生克了对班奈特家奇怪生活方式的厌恶,而伊丽莎白也看到了他傲慢背后亲切善良的一面。“我必须承认,我认为她是所有出版书中最让人喜爱的角色。对那些一点都不喜欢她的人,我不知道我能容忍到什么地步。”在讲究华丽词藻的19世纪初,简·奥斯汀在一封给朋友的信中对她小说中的角色伊丽莎白·班奈特做了上述描述。简·奥斯汀不需要担心。和她笔下的其它男女角色相比,伊丽莎白可能已经得到了更多的赞同与钦佩。伊丽莎白是个活泼机智的年轻女性,她强烈的正义感和善良的本性有广泛的吸引力。《傲慢与偏见》中最有趣的一个情节是当伊丽莎白不情愿地拜访达西先生家时,感到他受到身边每个人的极度尊敬。这是故事的转折点,她开始透过达西先生的傲慢,看到他真实的一面,进而发展出对他的真情。在看似简单的故事里,简·奥斯汀处理复杂情感及永恒主题的技巧,在此也展露无遗。 Article/200803/28384But she had no reason to fear Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner#39;s curiosity; it was not their wish to force her communication. It was evident that she was much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy than they had before any idea of; it was evident that he was very much in love with her. They saw much to interest, but nothing to justify enquiry.可是她没有理由害怕嘉丁纳夫妇的好奇心,因为他们并不想强迫她讲出心里的话。她跟达西先生的交情,显然不是他们以前所猜想的那种泛泛之交,他显然爱上了她,舅父母发现了许多蛛丝马迹,可又实在不便过问。Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety to think well; and, as far as their acquaintance reached, there was no fault to find. They could not be untouched by his politeness, and, had they drawn his character from their own feelings and his servant#39;s report, without any reference to any other account, the circle in Hertfordshire to which he was known would not have recognised it for Mr. Darcy. There was now an interest, however, in believing the housekeeper; and they soon became sensible that the authority of a servant who had known him since he was four years old, and whose own manners indicated respectability, was not to be hastily rejected. Neither had any thing occurred in the intelligence of their Lambton friends that could materially lessen its weight. They had nothing to accuse him of but pride; pride he probably had, and if not, it would certainly be imputed by the inhabitants of a small market-town where the family did not visit. It was acknowledged, however, that he was a liberal man, and did much good among the poor.他们现在一心只想到达西先生的好处。他们和他认识到现在为止,从他身上找不出半点儿错处。他那样的客气,使他们不得不感动。要是他们光凭着自己的感想和那个管家奶奶的报道来称道他的不人,而不参考任何其他资料,那么,哈福德郡那些认识他的人,简直辨别不出这是讲的达西先生。大家现在都愿意去相信那个管家奶奶的话,因为她在主人四岁的那年就来到他,当然深知主人的为人,加上她本身的举止也令人起敬,那就决不应该贸贸然把她的话置若罔闻,何况根据蓝白屯的朋友们跟他们讲的情形来看,也觉得这位管家奶奶的话没有什么不可靠的地方。达西除了傲慢之外,人家指摘不出他有任何错处。说到傲慢,他也许果真有些傲慢,纵使他并不傲慢,那么,那个小镇上的居民们见他全家终年足迹不至,自然也要说他傲慢。不过大家都公认他是个很大方的人,济苦救贫,慷慨解囊。 Article/201203/174566

The US Border Patrol is encountering more problems with drug dealers from Mexico. A few weeks ago, a dealer ran over a border patrol agent. The agent, standing in the middle of a two-lane road, had motioned the dealer’s vehicle to stop. Instead, the dealer ran over the agent, killing him, and then drove back across the border into Mexico. He has not been caught yet. Such incidents are on the rise, said one agent. The dealers are getting braver, because they rarely get caught. “Any agent who tries to stop us deserves to die,” said one convicted drug dealer.The dealers are always devising new tricks to get their drugs into the US. They start dangerous fires near the border to distract agents. They shoot cattle on border ranches so that American ranchers will not call agents about suspicious activity. They use dynamite to blow up bridges so agents cannot follow them. They dig tunnels that start in Mexico and connect with buildings on US soil.Their newest trick is to try to behead agents who ride on ATVs (all-terrain vehicles). When an agent drives into a concealed trap, he activates a "clothes line" wire. This wire stretches tightly across the agent's path, at neck level. It could slice right through his neck. The Department of Homeland Security quickly issued a new protective device for its ATV riders--a plastic neck guard. Using computer simulation, the department determined that the neck guard should prevent beheading; however, critical injuries—including a broken neck—are still possible.“These 'clothes lines' are not a big deal,” said a department official. He criticized the media for making a mountain out of a molehill. “Wait until an agent is actually beheaded—then you’ll have a story,” he said to a group of reporters. Article/201108/147571

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