高英课文
综合教程第二版何兆熊主编 高英1-7单元课文翻译
Unit 1 一课千金（一语抵千金）成长在二战期间战火连天的曼彻斯特意味着生活艰辛，金钱紧缺，整日焦虑不安，当铺成了大多数家庭经常去的地方，当然也包括我家。
然而，我不能对已经很有进取心和积极乐观的父母有更多的要求了。
他们艰辛地工作，用尊严和快乐来支撑着这个家庭。
我刚毅而又智慧的父亲几乎无所不能，而且从不缺木匠和手工艺活。
为了满足家庭开支，他甚至参加了非法组织的拳击比赛。
至于我的母亲，她勤劳节约，极爱干净。
即使条件艰苦，在母亲的照料下，她的五个孩子总能吃得饱饱地，穿得干干净净地去学校。
尽管我的衣服熨得很平整，鞋子擦得发亮，还是不符合学校的着装标准。
尽管妈妈勤俭持家，想办法为我们做衣服，但是我还是没有学校指定的蓝色校服和帽徽。
由于战争，政府实施定量配给制。
很多学校都放宽了对学生着装的要求，因为他们知道在那个时候弄到衣服是一件很困难的事情。
尽管如此，我所在的女子学校对着装的要求依旧很严格，每个学生必须要穿学校指定的校服。
所以，每天主持校会的副校长就把教我一个人如何着装当成了他的工作。
虽然我努力地向老师说明我不能遵守的理由，并且事实上，我也在努力地改进，但是每天老师都会把我从队伍中拉出来，然后让我站到台上，作为不穿校服到学校的学生的典型。
每天，当我独自一人尴尬地站在同学们的面前时，我都会强忍住泪水。
为了惩罚我，老师甚至不允许我参加体操队，也不允许我参加我最喜欢的每周一次的交易舞会。
我多么希望在这所可怕的学校里，能有这样一位老师，他会睁开双眼，然后看看我会做什么，而不是不断地告诉我不能做什么。
然而，在我十二岁的记忆中，除了接受惩罚我别无选择。
不要让我善良的母亲知晓这种惯例的惩罚对我而言是很重要的，我不敢冒险让她来学校为我说情，因为我知道心胸狭隘、不讲情面的教员会同样地使她难堪，那意味着我们俩都会不愉快、会有失颜面。
千万不要啊，如果她告诉我父亲的话，他将会立即为我大动干戈。
后来有一天，我们家赢得了一个报刊比赛，可以免费照相。
高英第2课课文
MarrakechGeorge OrwellAs the corpse went past the flies left the restaurant table in a cloud and rushed after it, but they came back a few minutes l ater.The little crowd of mourners -- all men and boys, no women--thread ed their way across the market place between the piles of pomegranat es and the taxis and the camels, walling a short chant over and ov er again. What really appeals to the flies is that the corpses here are never put into coffins, they are merely wrapped in a piece of rag and carried on a rough wooden bier on the shoulders of four friends. When the friends get to the burying-ground they hack an oblong hole a foot or two deep, dump the body in it and fling over it a little of the dried-up, lumpy earth, which is like bro ken brick. No gravestone, no name, no identifying mark of any kind. The burying-ground is merely a huge waste of hummocky earth, like a derelict building-lot. After a month or two no one can even b e certain where his own relatives are buried.When you walk through a town like this -- two hundred thousand inhabitants of whom at least twenty thousand own literally nothing except the rags they stand up in-- when you see how the people live, and still more how easily they die, it is always difficul t to believe that you are walking among human beings. All colonial empires are in reality founded upon this fact. The people have br own faces--besides, there are so many of them! Are they really the same flesh as your self Do they even have names Or are they mer ely a kind of undifferentiated brown stuff, about as individual as bees or coral insects They rise out of the earth，they sweat and sta rve for a few years, and then they sink back into the nameless mou nds of the graveyard and nobody notices that they are gone. And eve n the graves themselves soon fade back into the soil. Sometimes, ou t for a walk as you break your way through the prickly pear, you notice that it is rather bumpy underfoot, and only a certain regu larity in the bumps tells you that you are walking over skeletons.I was feeding one of the gazelles in the public gardens.Gazelles are almost the only animals that look good to eat when t hey are still alive, in fact, one can hardly look at their hindquar ters without thinking of a mint sauce. The gazelle I was feeding se emed to know that this thought was in my mind, for though it took the piece of bread I was holding out it obviously did not like me. It nibbled nibbled rapidly at the bread, then lowered its hea d and tried to butt me, then took another nibble and then butted a gain. Probably its idea was that if it could drive me away the bre ad would somehow remain hanging in mid-air.An Arab navvy working on the path nearby lowered his heavy hoe and sidled slowly towards us. He looked from the gazelle to the brea d and from the bread to the gazelle, with a sort of quiet amazemen t, as though he had never seen anything quite like this before. Fin ally he said shyly in French: "1 could eat some of that bread."I tore off a piece and he stowed it gratefully in some secret pl ace under his rags. This man is an employee of the municipality.When you go through the Jewish Quarters you gather some idea of w hat the medieval ghettoes were probably like. Under their Moorish Moorishrulers the Jews were only allowed to own land in certain restric ted areas, and after centuries of this kind of treatment they have ceased to bother about overcrowding. Many of the streets are a go od deal less than six feet wide, the houses are completely windowles s, and sore-eyed children cluster everywhere in unbelievable numbers, like clouds of flies. Down the centre of the street there is ge nerally running a little river of urine.In the bazaar huge families of Jews, all dressed in the long black robe and little black skull-cap, are working in dark fly-infested booths that look like caves. A carpenter sits crosslegged at a pr ehistoric lathe, turning chairlegs at lightning speed. He works the l athe with a bow in his right hand and guides the chisel with his left foot, and thanks to a lifetime of sitting in this position his left leg is warped out of shape. At his side his grandson, aged six, is already starting on the simpler parts of the job.I was just passing the coppersmiths' booths when somebody noticed t hat I was lighting a cigarette. Instantly, from the dark holes all round, there was a frenzied rush of Jews, many of them old grand fathers with flowing grey beards, all clamouring for a cigarette. Eve n a blind man somewhere at the back of one of the booths heard a rumour of cigarettes and came crawling out, groping in the ai r with his hand. In about a minute I had used up the whole packe t. None of these people, I suppose, works less than twelve hours a day, and every one of them looks on a cigarette as a more o r less impossible luxury.As the Jews live in self-contained communities they follow the sam e trades as the Arabs, except for agriculture. Fruitsellers, potters, silversmiths, blacksmiths, butchers, leather-workers, tailors, water-c arriers, beggars, porters -- whichever way you look you see nothing but Jews. As a matter of fact there are thirteen thousand of the m, all living in the space of a few acres. A good job Hitlet wasn 't here. Perhaps he was on his way, however. You hear the usual da rk rumours about Jews, not only from the Arabs but from the poorer Europeans."Yes vieux mon vieux, they took my job away from me and gave i t to a Jew. The Jews! They' re the real rulers of this country, y ou know. They‘ve got all the money. They control the banks, financ e -- everything.""But", I said, "isn't it a fact that the average Jew is a labour er working for about a penny an hour""Ah, that's only for show! They' re all money lenders really. They ' re cunning, the Jews."In just the same way, a couple of hundred years ago, poor old wo men used to be burned for witchcraft when they could not even work enough magic to get themselves a square meal. square mealAll people who work with their hands are partly invisible, and th e more important the work they do, the less visible they are. Stil l, a white skin is always fairly conspicuous. In northern Europe, wh en you see a labourer ploughing a field, you probably give him a s econd glance. In a hot country, anywhere south of Gibraltar or eas t of Suez, the chances are that you don't even see him. I have no ticed this again and again. In a tropical landscape one's eye takes in everything except the human beings. It takes in the dried-up s oil, the prickly pear, the palm tree and the distant mountain, but it always misses the peasant hoeing at his patch. He is the sam e colour as the earth, and a great deal less interesting to look a t.It is only because of this that the starved countries of Asia an d Africa are accepted as tourist resorts. No one would think of run ning cheap trips to the Distressed Areas. But where the human being s have brown skins their poverty is simply not noticed. What does M orocco mean to a Frenchman An orange grove or a job in Government service. Or to an Englishman Camels, castles, palm trees, Foreign Legionnaires, brass trays, and bandits. One could probably live the re for years without noticing that for nine-tenths of the people th e reality of life is an endless back-breaking struggle to wring a l ittle food out of an eroded soil.Most of Morocco is so desolate that no wild animal bigger than a hare can live on it. Huge areas which were once covered with forest have turned into a treeless waste where the soil is exactl y like broken-up brick.Nevertheless a good deal of it is cultivated, with frightful labou r. Everything is done by hand. Long lines of women, bent double lik e inverted capital Ls, work their way slowly across the fields, tear ing up the prickly weeds with their hands, and the peasant gatherin g lucerne for fodder pulls it up stalk by stalk instead of reapin g it, thus saving an inch or two on each stalk. The plough is a wretched wooden thing, so frail that one can easily carry it o n one's shoulder, and fitted underneath with a rough iron spike whic h stirs the soil to a depth of about four inches. This is as muc h as the strength of the animals is equal to. It is usual to plough with a cow and a donkey yoked together. Two donkeys would not b e quite strong enough, but on the other hand two cows would cost a little more to feed. The peasants possess no narrows, they mere ly plough the soil several times over in different directions, finall y leaving it in rough furrows, after which the whole field has to be shaped with hoes into small oblong patches to conserve water. Except for a day or two after the rare rainstorms there is neve r enough water. A long the edges of the fields channels are hacked out to a depth of thirty or forty feet to get at the tiny tric kles which run through the subsoil.Every afternoon a file of very old women passes down the road out side my house, each carrying a load of firewood. All of them are m ummified with age and the sun, and all of them are tiny. It seem s to be generally the case in primitive communities that the wome n, when they get beyond a certain age, shrink to the size of child ren. One day poor creature who could not have been more than four feet tall crept past me under a vast load of wood. I stopped he r and put a five-sou sou piece ( a little more than a farthing in to her hand. She answered with a shrill wail, almost a scream, whic h was partly gratitude but mainly surprise. I suppose that from her point of view, by taking any notice of her, I seemed almost to be violating a law of nature. She accept- ed her status as an o ld woman, that is to say as a beast of burden. When a family is travelling it is quite usual to see a father and a grown-up son riding ahead on donkeys, and an old woman following on foot, carr ying the baggage.But what is strange about these people is their invisibility. For several weeks, always at about the same time of day, the file o f old women had hobbled past the house with their firewood, and tho ugh they had registered themselves on my eyeballs I cannot truly sa y that I had seen them. Firewood was passing -- that was how I sa w it. It was only that one day I happened to be walking behind th em, and the curious up-and-down motion of a load of wood drew my a ttention to the human being beneath it. Then for the first time I noticed the poor old earth-coloured bodies, bodies reduced to bo nes and leathery skin, bent double under the crushing weight. Yet I suppose I had not been five minutes on Moroccan soil before I noticed the overloading of the donkeys and was infuriated by i t. There is no question that the donkeys are damnably treated. The Moroccan donkey is hardly bigger than a St. Bernard dog, it carri es a load which in the British Army would be considered too muchf or a fifteen-hands mule, and very often its packsaddle is not take n off its back for weeks together. But what is peculiarly pitiful i s that it is the most willing creature on earth, it follows its ma ster like a dog and does not need either bridle or halter . Afte r a dozen years of devoted work it suddenly drops dead, whereupon i ts master tips it into the ditch and the village dogs have torn it s guts out before it is cold.This kind of thing makes one's blood boil, whereas-- on the whole -- the plight of the human beings does not. I am not commentin g, merely pointing to a fact. People with brown skins are next doo r to invisible. Anyone can be sorry for the donkey with its galled back, but it is generally owing to some kind of accident if one even notices the old woman under her load of sticks.As the storks flew northward the Negroes were marching southward -- a long, dusty column, infantry , screw-gun batteries, and then mor e infantry, four or five thousand men in all, winding up the road with a clumping of boots and a clatter of iron wheels.They were Senegalese, the blackest Negroes in Africa, so black tha t sometimes it is difficult to see whereabouts on their necks the ha ir begins. Their splendid bodies were hidden in reach-me-down khaki u niforms, their feet squashed into boots that looked like blocks of w ood, and every tin hat seemed to be a couple of sizes too small. It was very hot and the men had marched a long way. They slump ed under the weight of their packs and the curiously sensitive blac k faces were glistening with sweat.As they went past, a tall, very young Negro turned and caught my eye. But the look he gave me was not in the least the kind of look you might expect. Not hostile, not contemptuous, not sullen, not even inquisitive. It was the shy, wide-eyed Negro look, whic h actually is a look of profound respect. I saw how it was. This wretched boy, who is a French citizen and has therefore been drag ged from the forest to scrub floors and catch syphilis in garrison towns, actually has feelings of reverence before a white skin. He has been taught that the white race are his masters, and he stil l believes it. But there is one thought which every white man (and in this connection it doesn't matter twopence if he calls himself a socialist) thinks when he sees a black army marching past. "Ho w much longer can we go on kidding these people How long before th ey turn their guns in the other direction"It was curious really. Every white man there had this thought stowed somewhere or other in his mind. I had it, so had the other onl ookers, so had the officers on their sweating chargers and the whit e N. C. Os marching in the ranks. It was a kind of secret which we all knew and were too clever to tell; only the Negroes didn' t know it. And really it was like watching a flock of cattle to s ee the long column, a mile or two miles of armed men, flowing peac efully up the road, while the great white birds drifted over them i n the opposite direction, glittering like scraps of Paper.(from Reading for Rhetoric, by Caroline Shrodes,Clifford A. Josephson, and James R. Wilson)。
(完整版)高英-Mark-Twain—Mirror-of-America原文+翻译+修辞
Mark Twain-the Mirror of America1 Most Americans remember Mark Twain as the father of Huck Finn's idyllic cruise through eternal boyhood and Tom Sawyer's endless summer of freedom and adventure. In-deed, this nation's best-loved author was every bit as adventurous, patriotic, romantic, and humorous as anyone has ever imagined. I found another Twain as well – one who grew cynical, bitter, saddened by the profound personal tragedies life dealt him, a man who became obsessed with the frailties of the human race, who saw clearly ahead a black wall of night.在大多数美国人的心目中，马克?吐温是位伟大作家，他描写了哈克?费恩永恒的童年时代中充满诗情画意的旅程和汤姆?索亚在漫长的夏日里自由自在历险探奇的故事。
的确，这位美国最受人喜爱的作家的探索精神、爱国热情、浪漫气质及幽默笔调都达到了登峰造极的程度。
但我发现还有另一个不同的马克?吐温——一个由于深受人生悲剧的打击而变得愤世嫉俗、尖酸刻薄的马克?吐温，一个为人类品质上的弱点而忧心忡忡、明显地看到前途是一片黑暗的人。
2 Tramp printer, river pilot , Confederate guerrilla, prospector, starry-eyed optimist, acid-tongued cynic: The man who became Mark Twain was born Samuel Langhorne Clemens and he ranged across the nation for more than a third of his life, digesting the new American experience before sharing it with the world as writer and lecturer. He adopted his pen name from the cry heard in his steamboat days, signaling two fathoms (12 feet) of water -- a navigable depth. His popularity is attested by the fact that more than a score of his books remain in print, and translations are still read around the world.印刷工、领航员、邦联游击队员、淘金者、耽于幻想的乐天派、语言尖刻的讽刺家：马克?吐温原名塞缪尔?朗赫恩?克莱门斯，他一生之中有超过三分之一的时间浪迹美国各地，体验着美国的新生活，尔后便以作家和演说家的身分将他所感受到的这一切介绍给全世界。
（完整版）高英第2课课文
（完整版）⾼英第2课课⽂MarrakechGeorge OrwellAs the corpse went past the flies left the restaurant table in a cloud and rushed after it, but they c ame back a few minutes later.The little crowd of mourners -- all men and boys, no women--threaded their way across the mar ket place between the piles of pomegranates and the taxis and the camels, walling a short chant ov er and over again. What really appeals to the flies is that the corpses here are never put into coffin s, they are merely wrapped in a piece of rag and carried on a rough wooden bier on the shoulders o f four friends. When the friends get to the burying-ground they hack an oblong hole a foot or two deep, dump the body in it and fling over it a little of the dried-up, lumpy earth, which is like bro ken brick. No gravestone, no name, no identifying mark of any kind. The burying-ground is merel y a huge waste of hummocky earth, like a derelict building-lot. After a month or two no one can e ven be certain where his own relatives are buried.When you walk through a town like this -- two hundred thousand inhabitants of whom at least t wenty thousand own literally nothing except the rags they stand up in-- when you see how the peo ple live, and still more how easily they die, it is always difficult to believe that you are walking am ong human beings. All colonial empires are in reality founded upon this fact. The people have bro wn faces--besides, there are so many of them! Are they really the same flesh as your self? Do the y even have names? Or are they merely a kind of undifferentiated brown stuff, about as individua l as bees or coral insects? They rise out of the earth，they sweat and starve for a few years, and the n they sink back into the nameless mounds of the graveyard and nobody notices that they are gon e. And even the graves themselves soon fade back into the soil. Sometimes, out for a walk as you break your way through the prickly pear, you notice that it is rather bumpy underfoot, and only a certain regularity in the bumps tells you that you are walking over skeletons.I was feeding one of the gazelles in the public gardens.Gazelles are almost the only animals that look good to eat when they are still alive, in fact, on e can hardly look at their hindquarters without thinking of a mint sauce. The gazelle I was feedin g seemed to know that this thought was in my mind, for though it took the piece of bread I was hol ding out it obviously did not like me. It nibbled nibbled rapidly at the bread, then lowered its hea d and tried to butt me, then took another nibble and then butted again. Probably its idea was that i f it could drive me away the bread would somehow remain hanging in mid-air.An Arab navvy working on the path nearby lowered his heavy hoe and sidled slowly towards u s. He looked from the gazelle to the bread and from the bread to the gazelle, with a sort of quiet a mazement, as though he had never seen anything quite like this before. Finally he said shyly in Fre nch: "1 could eat some of that bread."I tore off a piece and he stowed it gratefully in some secret place under his rags. This man is a n employee of the municipality.When you go through the Jewish Quarters you gather some idea of what the medieval ghettoe s were probably like. Under their Moorish Moorishrulers the Jews were only allowed to own lan d in certain restricted areas, and after centuries of this kind of treatment they have ceased to bothe r about overcrowding. Many of the streets are a good deal less than six feet wide, the houses are c ompletely windowless, and sore-eyed children cluster everywhere in unbelievable numbers, like cl ouds of flies. Down the centre of the street there is generally running a little river of urine.In the bazaar huge families of Jews, all dressed in the long black robe and little black skull-cap, are working in dark fly-infested booths that look like caves. A carpenter sits crosslegged at a prehist oric lathe, turning chairlegs at lightning speed. He works the lathe with a bow in his right hand an d guides the chisel with his left foot, and thanks to a lifetime of sitting in this position his left leg i s warped out of shape. At his side his grandson, aged six, is already starting on the simpler parts o f the job.I was just passing the coppersmiths' booths when somebody noticed that I was lighting a cigaret te. Instantly, from the dark holes all round, there was a frenzied rush of Jews, many of them old gr andfathers with flowing grey beards, all clamouringfor a cigarette. Even a blind man somewhere at the back of one of the booths heard a rumour of cigarettes and came crawling out, groping in the air with his hand. In about a minute I had used up the whole packet. None of these people, I s uppose, works less than twelve hours a day, and every one of them looks on a cigarette as a more o r less impossible luxury.As the Jews live in self-contained communities they follow the same trades as the Arabs, excep t for agriculture. Fruitsellers, potters, silversmiths, blacksmiths, butchers, leather-workers, tailor s, water-carriers, beggars, porters -- whichever way you look you see nothing but Jews. As a matte r of fact there are thirteen thousand of them, all living in the space of a few acres. A good job Hitle t wasn't here. Perhaps he was on his way, however. You hear the usual dark rumours about Jews, n ot only from the Arabs but from the poorer Europeans."Yes vieux mon vieux, they took my job away from me and gave it to a Jew. The Jews! They' re the real rulers of this country, you know. They‘ve got all the money. They control the banks, fin ance -- everything.""But", I said, "isn't it a fact that the average Jew is a labourer working for about a penny an hour? ""Ah, that's only for show! They' re all money lenders really. They' re cunning, the Jews."In just the same way, a couple of hundred years ago, poor old women used to be burned for witc hcraft when they could not even work enough magic to get themselves a square meal. square mea lAll people who work with their hands are partly invisible, and the more important the work the y do, the less visible they are. Still, a white skin is always fairly conspicuous. In northern Europ e, when you see a labourer ploughing a field, you probably give him a second glance. In a hot cou ntry, anywhere south of Gibraltar or east of Suez, the chances are that you don't even see him. I ha ve noticed this again and again. In a tropical landscape one's eye takes in everything except the hu man beings. It takes in the dried-up soil, the prickly pear, the palm tree and the distant mountain, b ut it always misses the peasant hoeing at his patch. He is the same colour as the earth, and a great deal less interesting to look at.It is only because of this that the starved countries of Asia and Africa are accepted as tourist res orts. No one would think of running cheap trips to the Distressed Areas. But where the human bein gs have brown skins their poverty is simply not noticed. What does Morocco mean to a Frenchma n? An orange grove or a job in Government service. Or to an Englishman? Camels, castles, palm tr ees, Foreign Legionnaires, brass trays, and bandits. One could probably live there for years withou t noticing that for nine-tenths of the people the reality of life is an endless back-breaking struggle t o wring a little food out of an eroded soil.Most of Morocco is so desolate that no wild animal bigger than a hare can live on it. Huge area s which were once covered with forest have turned into a treeless waste where the soil is exactly like broken-up brick.Nevertheless a good deal of it is cultivated, with frightful labour. Everything is done by hand. L ong lines of women, bent double like inverted capital Ls, work their way slowly across the fields, t earing up the prickly weeds with their hands, and the peasant gathering lucerne for fodder pulls i t up stalk by stalk instead of reaping it, thus saving an inch or two on each stalk. The plough is a w retched wooden thing, so frail that one can easily carry it on one's shoulder, and fitted underneath with a rough iron spike which stirs the soil to a depth of about four inches. This is as much as th e strength of the animals is equal to. It is usual to plough with a cow and a donkey yoked togethe r. Two donkeys would not be quite strong enough, but on the other hand two cows would cost a litt le more to feed. The peasants possess no narrows, they merely plough the soil several times over i n different directions, finally leaving it in rough furrows, after which the whole field has to be sha ped with hoes into small oblong patches to conserve water. Except for a day or two after the rare r ainstorms there is never enough water. A long the edges of the fields channels are hacked out to a depth of thirty or forty feet to get at the tiny trickles which run through the subsoil.Every afternoon a file of very old women passes down the road outside my house, each carryin g a load of firewood. All of them are mummified with age and the sun, and all of them are tiny. It s eems to be generally the case in primitivecommunities that the women, when they get beyond a c ertain age, shrink to the size of children. One day poor creature who could not have been more tha n four feet tall crept past me under a vast load of wood. I stopped her and put a five-sou sou piec e ( a little more than a farthing into her hand. She answered with a shrill wail, almost a scream, wh ich was partly gratitude but mainly surprise. I suppose that from her point of view, by taking any n otice of her, I seemed almost to be violating a law of nature. She accept- ed her status as an old wo man, that is to say as a beast of burden. When a family is travelling it is quite usual to see a fathe r and a grown-up son riding ahead on donkeys, and an old woman following on foot, carrying th e baggage.But what is strange about these people is their invisibility. For several weeks, always at about th e same time of day, the file of old women had hobbled past the house with their firewood, and tho ugh they had registered themselves on my eyeballs I cannot truly say that I had seen them. Firewo od was passing -- that was how I saw it. It was only that one day I happened to be walking behin d them, and the curious up-and-down motion of a load of wood drew my attention to the human be ing beneath it. Then for the first time I noticed the poor old earth-coloured bodies, bodies reduce d to bones and leathery skin, bent double under the crushing weight. Yet I suppose I had not been f ive minutes on Moroccan soil before I noticed the overloading of the donkeys and was infuriated b y it. There is no question that the donkeys are damnably treated. The Moroccan donkey is hardly b igger than a St. Bernard dog, it carries a load which in the British Army would be considered to o much for a fifteen-hands mule, and very often its packsaddle is not taken off its back for weeks t ogether. But what is peculiarly pitiful is that it is the most willing creature on earth, it follows its master like a dog and does not need either bridle or halter . After a dozen years of devoted work i t suddenly drops dead, whereupon its master tips it into the ditch and the village dogs have torn it s guts out before it is cold.This kind of thing makes one's blood boil, whereas-- on the whole -- the plight of the human bei ngs does not. I am not commenting, merely pointing to a fact. People with brown skins are next do or to invisible. Anyone can be sorry for the donkey with its galled back, but it is generally owing t o some kind of accident if one even notices the old woman under her load of sticks.As the storks flew northward the Negroes were marching southward -- a long, dusty column, inf antry , screw-gun batteries, and then more infantry, four or five thousand men in all, winding up th e road with a clumping of boots and a clatter of iron wheels.They were Senegalese, the blackest Negroes in Africa, so black that sometimes it is difficult to s ee whereabouts on their necks the hair begins. Their splendid bodies were hidden in reach-me-do wn khaki uniforms, their feet squashed into boots that looked like blocks of wood, and every tin h at seemed to be a couple of sizes too small. It was very hot and the men had marched a long wa y. They slumped under the weight of their packs and the curiously sensitive black faces were gliste ning with sweat.As they went past, a tall, very young Negro turned and caught my eye. But the look he gave m e was not in the least the kind of look you might expect. Not hostile, not contemptuous, not sulle n, not even inquisitive. It was the shy, wide-eyed Negro look, which actually is a look of profoun d respect. I saw how it was. This wretched boy, who is a French citizen and has therefore been dra gged from the forest to scrub floors and catch syphilis in garrison towns, actually has feelings of re verence before a white skin. He has been taught that the white race are his masters, and he still bel ieves it. But there is one thought which every white man (and in this connection it doesn't matter t wopence if he calls himself a socialist) thinks when he sees a black army marching past. "How mu ch longer can we go on kidding these people? How long before they turn their guns in the other dir ection?"It was curious really. Every white man there had this thought stowed somewhere or other in hi s mind. I had it, so had the other onlookers, so had the officers on their sweating chargers and the white N. C. Os marching in the ranks. It was a kind of secret which we all knew and were too cle ver to tell; only the Negroes didn't know it. And really it was like watching a flock of cattle to see t he long column, a mile or two miles of armed men, flowing peacefully up the road, while the grea t white birds drifted over them in the opposite direction, glittering like scraps of Paper.(from Reading for Rhetoric, by Caroline Shrodes,Clifford A. Josephson, and James R. Wilson)。
高英3版第3课Blackmail 课文全文解读
BlackmailArthur Hailey○1The chief house officer, Ogilvie, who had declared he would appear at the Croydons suite an hour after his cryptic telephone call actually took twice that time. As a result the nerves of both the Duke and Duchess were excessively frayed when the muted buzzer of the outer door eventually sounded.○2The Duchess went to the door herself. Earlier she had dispatched her maid on an invented errand and, cruelly, instructed the moon-faced male secretary –who was terrified of dogs –to exercise the Bedlington terriers. Her own tension was not lessened by the knowledge that both might return at any moment.○3 A wave of cigar smoke accompanied Ogilvie in. When he had followed her to the living room, the Duchess looked pointedly at the half-burned cigar in the fat man’s mouth. “My husband and I find strong smoke offensive. Would you kindly put that out."○4The house detective's piggy eyes surveyed her sardonically from his gross jowled face. His gaze moved on to sweep the spacious, well-appointed room, encompassing the Duke who faced them uncertainly, his back to a window.○5"Pretty neat set-up you folks got.” Taking his time, Ogilvie removed the offending cigar, knocked off the ash and flipped the butt toward an ornamental fireplace on his right. He missed, and the butt fell upon the carpet where he ignored it. ○6The Duchess's lips tightened. She said sharply, imagine you did not come here to discuss décor ".○7The obese body shook in an appreciative chuckle . "No, ma'am, can't say I did. I like nice things, though." He lowered the level of his incongruous falsetto voice." Like that car of yours. The one you keep here in the hotel. Jaguar, ain't it?"○8"Aah!" It was not a spoken word, but an emission of breath from the Duke of Croydon. His wife shot him a swift, warning glance.○9"In what conceivable way does our car concern you?”○10As if the question from the Duchess had been a signal, the house detective's manner changed. He inquired abruptly, "Who else is in this place?"○11It was the Duke who answered, "No one. We sent them out."○12"There's things it pays to check." Moving with surprising speed, the fat man walked around the suite, opening doors and inspecting the space behind them. Obviously he knew the room arrangement well. After reopening and closing the outer door, he returned, apparently satisfied, to the living room.○13The Duchess had seated herself in a straight-backed Ogilvie remained standing. ○14"Now then," he said. "You two was in the hit-'n-run ."○15She met his eyes directly." What are you talking about?"○16"Don't play games, lady. This is for real." He took out a fresh cigar and bit off the end, "You saw the papers. There's been plenty on radio, too."○17Two high points of color appeared in the paleness of the Duchess of Croydon's cheeks. "What you are suggesting is the most disgusting, ridiculous..."○18"I told you –Cut it out!” The words spat forth with sudden savagery , all pretense of blandness gone. Ignoring the Duke, Ogilvie waved the unlighted cigar under his adversary 's adversary 's nose. "You listen to me, your high-an'-mightiness. This city's burnin' mad – cops, mayor, everybody else. When they find who done that last night, who killed that kid an' its mother, then high-tailed it, they'll throw the book, and never mind who it hits, or whether they got fancy titles neither. Now I know what I know, and if I do what by rights I should, there'll be a squad of cops in here so fast you'll hardly see 'em. But I come to you first, in fairness, so's you could tell your side of it to me." The piggy eyes blinked, then hardened. " 'f you want it the other way, justsay so."○19The Duchess of Croydon – three centuries and a half of inbred arrogance behind her –did not yield easily. Springing to her feet, her face wrathful, gray-green eyes blazing, she faced the grossness of the house detective squarely. Her tone would have withered anyone who knew her well. “You unspeakable blackguard! How dare you!”○20Even the self-assurance of Ogilvie flickered for an instant. But it was the Duke of Croydon who interjected, "It's no go, old girl. I'm afraid. It was a good try." Facing Ogilvie, he said, "What you accuse us of is true. I am to blame. I was driving the car and killed the little girl."○21"That's more like it," Ogilvie said. He lit the fresh cigar. "Now we're getting somewhere."○22Wearily, in a gesture of surrender, the Duchess of Croydon sank back into her chair. Clasping her hands to conceal their trembling, she asked. "What is it you know?"○23"Well now, I'll spell it out." The house detective took his time, leisurely putting a cloud of blue cigar smoke, his eyes sardonically on the Duchess as if challenging her objection. But beyond wrinkling her nose in distaste, she made no comment.○24Ogilvie pointed to the Duke. "Last night, early on, you went to Lindy's Place in Irish Bayou. You drove there in your fancy Jaguar, and you took a lady friend. Leastways, I guess you'd call her that if you're not too fussy."○25As Ogilvie glanced, grinning, at the Duchess, the Duke said sharply, "Get on with it!"○26"Well" – the smug fat face swung back – "the way I hear it, you won a hundred at the tables, then lost it at the bar. You were into a second hundred –with a real swinging party – when your wife here got there in a taxi. "○27"How do you know all this?"○28"I'll tell you, Duke –I've been in this town and this hotel a long time. I got friends all over. I oblige them; they do the same for me, like letting me know what gives, an’ where. There ain't much, out of the way, which people who stay in this hotel do, I don't get to hear about. Most of ’em never know I know, or know me. They think they got their little secret tucked away , and so they have – except like now."○29The Duke said coldly, "I see."○30"One thing I'd like to know. I got a curious nature, ma’ am. How'd you figure where he was?"○31The Duchess said, "You know so much... I suppose it doesn't matter. My husband has a habit of making notes while he is telephoning. Afterward he often forgets to destroy them. ”○32The house detective clucked his tongue reprovingly . "A little careless habit like that, Duke – look at the mess it gets you in. Well, here's what I figure about the rest. You an' your wife took off home, you drivin', though the way things turned out it might have been better if she'd have drove."○33"My wife doesn't drive."○34Ogilvie nodded understandingly. "Explains that one. Anyway, I reckon you were lickered ( = liquored ) up, but good..."○35The Duchess interrupted. "Then you don't know! You don't know anything for sure! You can't possibly prove..."○36"Lady, I can prove all I need to."○37The Duke cautioned, "Better let him finish, old girl."○38"That's right," Ogilvie said. "Just sit an' listen. Last night I seen you come in –through the basement, so's not to use the lobby. Looked right shaken, too, the pair of you. Just come in myself, an' I got to wondering why. Like I said, I got a curious nature."○39The Duchess breathed, "Go on."○40"Late last night the word was out about the hit-'n-run. On a hunch I went over the garage and took a quiet look-see at your car. You maybe don't know – it's away in a corner, behind a pillar where the jockeys don't see it when they're comin' by."○41The Duke licked his lips. "I suppose that doesn't matter now."○42"You might have something there," Ogilvie conceded. "Anyway, what I found made me do some scouting -- across at police headquarters where they know me too." He paused to puff again at the cigar as his listeners waited silently. When the cigar tip was glowing he inspected it, then continued. "Over there they got three things to go on. They got a headlight trim ring which musta come off when the kid an’ the woman was hit. They got some headlight glass, and lookin’ at the kid's clothin', they reckon there'll be a brush trace. "○43"A what?"○44"You rub clothes against something hard, Duchess, specially if it's shiny like a car fender, say, an' it leaves a mark the same way as finger prints. The police lab kin pick it up like they do prints –dust it, an’ it shows."○45"That's interesting," the Duke said, as if speaking of something unconnected with himself. "I didn't know that."○46"Not many do. In this case, though, I reckon it don't make a lot o' difference. On your car you got a busted headlight, and the trim ring's gone. Ain't any doubt they'd match up, even without the brush trace an’ the blood. 0h yeah, I should a told you. There's plenty of blood, though it don't show too much on the black paint."○47"Oh, my God!" A hand to her face, the Duchess turned away.○48Her husband asked, "What do you propose to do?"○49The fat man rubbed his hands together, looking down at his thick, fleshy fingers. "Like I said, I come to hear your side of it."○50The Duke said despairingly, “What can I possibly say? You know what happened.” He made an attempt to square his shoulders which did not succeed. “You'd better call the police and get it over.”○51“Well now, there's no call for being hasty .” The incongruous falsetto voice took on a musing note. “What's done's been done. Rushing any place ain't gonna bring back the kid nor its mother neither. Besides, what they'd do to you across at the headquarters, Duke, you wouldn't like. No sir, you wouldn't like it at all.”○52The other two slowly raised their eyes.○53“I was hoping,” Ogilvie said, “that you folks could suggest something.”○54The Duke said uncertainly, “I don't understand.”○55“I understand,” the Duchess of Croydon said. “You want money, don't you? You came here to blackmail us.”○56If she expected her words to shock, they did not succeed. The house detective shrugged. “Whatever names you call things, ma'am, don't matter to me. All I come for was to help you people out of trouble. But I got to live too.”○57”You'd accept money to keep silent about what you know?”○58”I reckon I might.”○59”But from what you say,”the Duchess pointed out, her poise for the moment recovered, “it would do no good. The car would be discovered in any case.”○60”I guess you'd have to take that chance. But there's some reasons it might not be. Something I ain't told you yet.”○61“Tell us now, please.”○62Ogilvie said, “I ain't figured this out myself completely. But when you hit that kid you was going away from town, not to it.”○63”We'd made a mistake in the route,” the Duchess said. “Somehow we'd becometurned around. It's easily done in New Orleans, with the street winding as they do. Afterward, using side streets, we went back. “○64“I thought it might be that,”Ogilvie nodded understandingly. “But the police ain't figured it that way. They’re looking for somebody who was headed out. That's why, right now, they're workin' on the suburbs and the outside towns. They may get around to searchin' downtown, but it won't be yet. “○65“How long before they do?”○66“Maybe three, four days. They got a lot of other places to look first.”○67“ How could that help us --- the delay‘?”○68“It might,” Ogilvie said. “Providin' nobody twigs the car – an' seein' where it is, you might be lucky there. An' if you can get it away.”○69“You mean out of the state?”○70“I mean out o’ the South.”○71“That wouldn't be easy?”○72“No, ma'am. Every state around – Texas, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, all the rest'll be watching for a car damaged the way yours is.”○73The Duchess considered. “Is there any possibility of having repairs made first? If the work were done discreetly we could pay well. “○74The house detective shook his head emphatically. “You try that, you might as well walk over to headquarters right now an' give up. Every repair shop in Louisiana's been told to holler 'cops' the minute a car needing fixin' like yours comes in. They'd do it, too. You people are hot.”○75The Duchess of Croydon kept firm, tight rein on her racing mind. It was essential, she knew, that her thinking remain calm and reasoned. In the last few minutes the conversation had become as seemingly casual as if the discussion were of some minor domestic matter and not survival itself. She intended to keep it that way. Once more,she was aware, the role of leadership had fallen to her, her husband now a tense but passive spectator of the exchange between the evil tat man and herself. No matter. What was inevitable must be accepted. The important thing was to consider all eventualities. A thought occurred to her.○76“The piece from our car which you say the police have. What is it called?”○77“A trim ring.”○78“Is it traceable?”○79Ogilvie nodded affirmatively. “They can figure what kind o' car it's from --- make, model, an' maybe the year, or close to it. Same thing with the glass. But with your car being foreign, it'll likely take a few days.”○80“But after that,”she persisted, “the police will know they're looking for a Jaguar?”○81“I reckon that 's so. “○82Today was Tuesday. From all that this man said, they had until Friday or Saturday at best. With calculated coolness the Duchess reasoned: the situation came down to one essential. Assuming the hotel man was bought off, their only chance -- a slim one -- lay in removing the car quickly, If it could be got north, to one of the big cities where the New Orleans tragedy and search would be unknown, repairs could be made quietly, the incriminating evidence removed. Then, even if suspicion settled on the Croydons later, nothing could be proved. But how to get the car away?○83Undoubtedly what this oafish detective said was true: As well as Louisiana, the other states through which the car would have to pass would be alert and watchful. Every highway patrol would be on the lookout for a damaged head-light with a missing trim ring. There would probably be road-blocks. It would be hard not to fall victim to some sharpeyed policeman.○84But it might be done. If the car could be driven at night and concealed by day. There were plenty of places to pull off the highway and be unobserved. It would behazardous, but no more than waiting here for certain detection. There would be back roads. They could choose an unlikely route to avoid attention.○85But there would be other complications ... and now was the time to consider them. Traveling by secondary roads would be difficult unless knowing the terrain. The Croydons did not. Nor was either of them adept at using maps. And when they stopped for petrol, as they would have to, their speech and manner would betray them, making them conspicuous . And yet ... these were risks which had to be taken.○86Or had they?○87The Duchess faced Ogilvie. “How much do you want?”○88The abruptness took him by surprise. “Well ... I figure you people are pretty well fixed.”○89She said coldly, “I asked how much.”○90The piggy eyes blinked. Ten thousand dollars.”○91Though it was twice what she had expected, her expression did not change. “Assuming we paid this grotesque amount, what would we receive in return?”○92The fat man seemed puzzled. “Like I said, I keep quiet about what I know.”○93“And the alternative ?”○94He shrugged. “I go down the lobby. I pick up a phone. “○95“No,” The statement was unequivocal . “We will not pay, you.”○96As the Duke of Croydon shifted uneasily, the house detective's bulbous countenance reddened, “Now listen, lady…”○97Peremptorily she cut him oft. “I will not listen. Instead, you will listen to me.”Her eyes were riveted on his face, her handsome, high cheek boned features set in their most imperious mold. “We would achieve nothing by paying you, except possibly a few days' respite . You have made that abundantly clear.”○98“That's a chance you gotta...”○99“Silence!” Her voice was a whiplash. Eyes bored into him. Swallowing, sullenly , he complied .100 What came next, the Duchess of Croydon knew, could be the most significant thing she had ever done. There must be no mistake, no vacillation or dallying because of her own smallness of mind. When you were playing for the highest stakes, you made the highest bid. She intended to gamble on the fat man's greed. She must do so in such a way as to place the outcome beyond any doubt.101 She declared decisively, “We will not pay you ten thousand dollars. But we will pay you twenty-five thousand dollars.”102 The house detective's eyes bulged.103 “In return for that,” she continued evenly, “You will drive our car north.”104 Ogilvie continued to stare.105 “Twenty-five thousand dollars,”she repeated. “Ten thousand now. Fifteen thousand more when you meet us in Chicago.”106 Still without speaking, the fat man licked his lips. His beady eyes, as if unbelieving, were focused upon her own. The silence hung.107 Then, as she watched intently, he gave the slightest of nods.108 The silence remained. At length Ogilvie spoke. “This cigar bother in' you, Duchess?”109 As she nodded, he put it out.(from Hotel, 1965)。
高英课文分析
Paragraph 29 None of the returnees moved quickly or spoke loudly; they stood shocked trying to absorb the shattering scenes before their eyes. What do we do ?” they asked . Where do we go?
the graves. strew something on ...把某物撒在...上
Strip
(noun) a): to take off clothes as a form of entertainment.脱 衣舞表演者
b): a relatively long narrow pieces of something条状 物
Figure of sppech
metaphor (暗喻，）
Paraphrase Bits of clothing were hanging on the trees as
if decoratings them with festoons
2020/1/2ቤተ መጻሕፍቲ ባይዱ
Para 28 Blowndown power lines...over the rodes:
eg:The house was festooned with christmas decoration.
(noun)
b):flower chains suspended in loops between point as decorate.花彩装饰物
festoon lighting(带式装饰照明) festoon drying (吊挂干燥）
Figure of speech
高英3版第3课Blackmail课文全文
精选文档BlackmailArthur Hailey○the appear at had declared he would 1 The chief house officer, Ogilvie, who Croydons suite an hour after his cryptic telephone call actually took twice that time. As a result the nerves of both the Duke and Duchess were excessively frayed when the muted buzzer of the outer door eventually sounded.○The Duchess went to the door herself. Earlier she had dispatched her maid on an 2 invented errand and, cruelly, instructed the moon-faced male secretary –who was terrified of dogs –to exercise the Bedlington terriers. Her own tension was not lessened by the knowledge that both might return at any moment.○A wave of cigar smoke accompanied Ogilvie in. When he had followed her to3the living room, the Duchess looked pointedly at the half-burned cigar in the fat man'smouth. “My husband and I find strong smoke offensive. Would you kindly put that out.○The house detective's piggy eyes surveyed her sardonically from his gross jowled 4face. His gaze moved on to sweep the spacious, well-appointed room, encompassing the Duke who faced them uncertainly, his back to a window.○the removed his time, Ogilvie you neat set-up folks got.”Taking Pretty 5 offending cigar, knocked off the ash and flipped the butt toward an ornamental fireplace on his right. He missed, and the butt fell upon the carpet where he ignored it. ○The Duchess's lips tightened. She said sharply, imagine you did not come here to 6discuss décor .○The obese body shook in an appreciative chuckle . No, ma'am, can't say I did. I 7like nice things, though. He lowered the level of his incongruous falsetto voice. Like that car of yours. The one you keep here in the hotel. Jaguar, ain't it?精选文档○the Duke of of breath from not It was a spoken word, but an emission 8 Aah! Croydon. His wife shot him a swift, warning glance.○In what conceivable way does our car concern you?”9○detective's the house been a signal, if As the question from the Duchess had 10manner changed. He inquired abruptly, Who else is in this place?○It was the Duke who answered, No one. We sent them out. 11○man fat surprising speed, the it pays to check. Moving with 12 There's things walked around the suite, opening doors and inspecting the space behind them. Obviously he knew the room arrangement well. After reopening and closing the outer door, he returned, apparently satisfied, to the living room.○The Duchess had seated herself in a straight-backed Ogilvie remained standing. 13○Now then, he said. You two was in the hit-'n-run . 14○She met his eyes directly. What are you talking about? 15○Don't play games, lady. This is for real. He took out a fresh cigar and bit off the 16 end, You saw the papers. There's been plenty on radio, too.○Two high points of color appeared in the paleness of the Duchess of Croydon's17cheeks. What you are suggesting is the most disgusting, ridiculous...○all , savagery forth with sudden spat it you 18 I told –Cut out!”The words pretense of blandness gone. Ignoring the Duke, Ogilvie waved the unlighted cigar under his adversary 's adversary 's nose. You listen to me, your high-an'-mightiness. This city's burnin' mad –cops, mayor, everybody else. When they find who done thatlast night, who killed that kid an' its mother, then high-tailed it, they'll throw the book, and never mind who it hits, or whether they got fancy titles neither. Now I know what I know, and if I do what by rights I should, there'll be a squad of cops in here so fast you'll hardly see 'em. But I come to you first, in fairness, so's you could tell your side of it to me. The piggy eyes blinked, then hardened. 'f you want it the other way, just 精选文档say so.○three centuries and a half of inbred arrogance behind –The Duchess of Croydon 19her –did not yield easily. Springing to her feet, her face wrathful,gray-green eyesblazing, she faced the grossness of the house detective squarely. Her tone would have withered anyone who knew her well. “You unspeakable blackguard! How dare you!”○Even the self-assurance of Ogilvie flickered for an instant. But it was the Duke 20of Croydon who interjected, It's no go, old girl. I'm afraid. It was a good try. Facing Ogilvie, he said, What you accuse us of is true. I am to blame. I was driving the car and killed the little girl.○getting Now we're the fresh cigar. like That's more it, Ogilvie said. He lit 21 somewhere.○her gesture of surrender, the Duchess of Croydon sank back into Wearily, in 22 a chair. Clasping her hands to conceal their trembling, she asked. What is it you know?○Well now, I'll spell it out. The house detective took his time, leisurely putting a 23cloud of blue cigar smoke, his eyes sardonically on the Duchess as if challenging herobjection. But beyond wrinkling her nose in distaste, she made no comment.○Ogilvie pointed to the Duke. Last night, early on, you went to Lindy's Place in24Irish Bayou. You drove there in your fancy Jaguar, and you took a lady friend. Leastways, I guess you'd call her that if you're not too fussy.○on Get said sharply, Duke glanced, grinning, at the Duchess, the As 25 Ogilvie with it!○he way I hear it, you won a hundred at the smug fat face swung back –26Well –the tables, then lost it at the bar. You were into a second hundred –with a realswinging party –when your wife here got there in a taxi.○How do you know all this? 27．精选文档○got time. I a and this hotel long you, Duke –I've been in this town 28 I'll tell friends all over. I oblige them; they do the same for me, like letting me know what gives, an' where. There ain't much, out of the way, which people who stay in this hotel do, I don't get to hear about. Most of 'em never know I know, or know me. They think they got their little secret tucked away , and so they have –except like now.○The Duke said coldly, I see. 29○u figure How'd yogot a curious nature, ma' am. 30 One thing I'd like to know. I where he was?○The Duchess said, You know so much... I suppose it doesn't matter. My husband 31has a habit of making notes while he is telephoning. Afterward he often forgets to destroy them. ”○The house detective clucked his tongue reprovingly . A little careless habit like32that, Duke –look at the mess it gets you in. Well, here's what I figure about the rest.You an' your wife took off home, you drivin', though the way things turned out it might have been better if she'd have drove.○My wife doesn't drive. 33○Ogilvie nodded understandingly. Explains that one. Anyway, I reckon you were 34lickered ( = liquored ) up, but good...○anything for know you don't know! You don't interrupted. Then 35 The Duchess sure! You can't possibly prove...○Lady, I can prove all I need to. 36○The Duke cautioned, Better let him finish, old girl. 37○–38That's right, Ogilvie said. Just sit an' listen. Last night I seen you come in through the basement, so's not to use the lobby. Looked right shaken, too, the pair of you. Just come in myself, an' I got to wondering why. Like I said, I got a curious nature.精选文档○The Duchess breathed, Go on. 39○Late last night the word was out about the hit-'n-run. On a hunch I went over the 40garage and took a quiet look-see at your car. You maybe don't know –it's away in acorner, behind a pillar where the jockeys don't see it when they're comin' by.○The Duke licked his lips. I suppose that doesn't matter now. 41○found what I Ogilvie conceded. Anyway, there, 42 You might have somethingmade me do some scouting -- across at police headquarters where they know me too. He paused to puff again at the cigar as his listeners waited silently. When the cigar tip was glowing he inspected it, then continued. Over there they got three things to go on. They got a headlight trim ring which musta come off when the kid an' the woman was hit. They got some headlight glass, and lookin' at the kid's clothin', they reckon there'll be a brush trace.○A what? 43○against something hard, Duchess, specially if it's shiny like a You rub clothes 44car fender, say, an' it leaves a mark the same way as finger prints. The police lab kin pick it up like they do prints –畤瑳椠?愠╮???瑩猠潨獷尮himself. I didn't know that.○Not many do. In this case, though, I reckon it don't make a lot o' difference. On 46your car you got a busted headlight, and the trim ring's gone. Ain't any doubt they'd match up, even without the brush trace an' the blood. 0h yeah, I should a told you. There's plenty of blood, though it don't show too much on the black paint.○Oh, my God! A hand to her face, the Duchess turned away. 47○Her husband asked, What do you propose to do? 48○The fat man rubbed his hands together, looking down at his thick, fleshy fingers.49Like I said, I come to hear your side of it.精选文档○what know possibly say? You said despairingly, “What can I 50 The Duke happened.”He made an attempt to square his shoulders which did not succeed. “You'dbetter call the police and get it over.”○The incongruous falsetto voice took ”“Well now, there's no call for being hasty .51on a musing note. “What's done's been done. Rushing any place ain't gonna bringback the kid nor its mother neither. Besides, what they'd do to you across at the headquarters, Duke, you wouldn't like. No sir, you wouldn't like it at all.”○The other two slowly raised their eyes. 52○that you folks could suggest something.”I was hoping,”Ogilvie said, “53 “○I don't understand.”The Duke said uncertainly, “54○You want money, don't you? You “I understand,”the Duchess of Croydon said. “55came here to blackmail us.”○succeed. The house detective not If she expected her words to shock, they did 56shrugged. “Whatever names you call things, ma'am, don't matter to me. All I come forwas to help you people out of trouble. But I got to live too.”○””You'd accept money to keep silent about what you know?57○I reckon I might.””58recovered, “it would do no good. The car would be discovered in any case.”○I guess you'd have to take that chance. But there's some reasons it might not be. ”60Something I ain't told you yet.”○”“Tell us now, please.61○you hit that “I ain't figured this out myself completely. But when Ogilvie said, 62kid you was going away from town, not to it.”○Somehow we'd become “the Duchess said. ”We'd made a mistake in the route,”63．精选文档turned around. It's easily done in New Orleans, with the street winding as they do. Afterward, using side streets, we went back. “○police But the nodded Ogilvie understandingly. ““I thought it might be that,”64ain't figured it that way. They're looking for somebody who was headed out. That's why, right now, they're workin' on the suburbs and the outside towns. They may get around to searchin' downtown, but it won't be yet. “○How long before they do?”65 “○Maybe three, four days. They got a lot of other places to look first.”66 “○How could that help us --- the delay‘?”67 “○an' seein' where it is, –Ogilvie said. “Providin' nobody twigs the car 68 “It might,”you might be lucky there. An' if you can get it away.”○”“You mean out of the state?69○“I mean out o' the South.”70○”“That wouldn't be easy?71○Texas, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, all the No, ma'am. Every state around–72 “rest'll be watching for a car damaged the way yours is.”○Is there any possibility of having repairs made first? If The Duchess considered. “73the work were done discreetly we could pay well. “○as you might You emphatically. “try that, his The 74 house detective shook head well walk over to headquarters right now an' give up. Every repair shop in Louisiana'sbeen told to holler 'cops' the minute a car needing fixin' like yours comes in. They'd do it, too. You people are hot.”○The Duchess of Croydon kept firm, tight rein on her racing mind. It was essential, 75she knew, that her thinking remain calm and reasoned. In the last few minutes the conversation had become as seemingly casual as if the discussion were of some minor domestic matter and not survival itself. She intended to keep it that way. Once more, 精选文档she was aware, the role of leadership had fallen to her, her husband now a tense but passive spectator of the exchange between the evil tat man and herself. No matter. What was inevitable must be accepted. The important thing was to consider all eventualities. A thought occurred to her.○The piece from our car which you say the police have. What is it called?”76 “○ A trim ring.”77 “○Is it traceable?”78 “○--- from o' car it's “They can figure what kind affirmatively. 79 Ogilvie noddedmake, model, an' maybe the year, or close to it. Same thing with the glass. But with your car being foreign, it'll likely take a few days.”○a looking for they're the police will know 80 “But after that,”she persisted, “Jaguar?”○I reckon that 's so. “81 “○or Friday had until man all that this said, they From 82Today was Tuesday.Saturday at best. With calculated coolness the Duchess reasoned: the situation came down to one essential. Assuming the hotel man was bought off, their only chance -- a slim one -- lay in removing the car quickly, If it could be got north, to one of the big cities where the New Orleans tragedy and search would be unknown, repairs could be made quietly, the incriminating evidence removed. Then, even if suspicion settled on the Croydons later, nothing could be proved. But how to get the car away?○Undoubtedly what this oafish detective said was true: As well as Louisiana, the 83 other states through which the car would have to pass would be alert and watchful. Every highway patrol would be on the lookout for a damaged head-light with a missing trim ring. There would probably be road-blocks. It would be hard not to fall victim to some sharpeyed policeman.○But it might be done. If the car could be driven at night and concealed by day. 84 There were plenty of places to pull off the highway and be unobserved. It would be精选文档hazardous, but no more than waiting here for certain detection. There would be back roads. They could choose an unlikely route to avoid attention.○consider to was the time would be other complications ... and now 85 But there them. Traveling by secondary roads would be difficult unless knowing the terrain. The Croydons did not. Nor was either of them adept at using maps. And when they stopped for petrol, as they would have to, their speech and manner would betray them, making them conspicuous . And yet ... these were risks which had to be taken.○Or had they? 86○”“How much do you want?87 The Duchess faced Ogilvie. ○Well ... I figure you people are pretty well “The abruptness took him by surprise. 88fixed.”○I asked how much.”89 She said coldly, “○The piggy eyes blinked. Ten thousand dollars.”90○change. did not expected, her expression Though it was twice what she had 91 “Assuming we paid this grotesque amount, what would we receive in return?”○”The fat man seemed puzzled. “Like I said, I keep quiet about what I know.92 ○”“And the alternative ?93○““I go down the lobby. I pick up a phone. 94 He shrugged.○We will not pay, you.”The statement was unequivocal . “No,”“95○bulbous detective's house shifted uneasily, the As 96 the Duke of Croydon countenance reddened, “Now listen, lady…”○”“I will not listen. Instead, you will listen to me.97 Peremptorily she cut him oft. Her eyes were riveted on his face, her handsome, high cheek boned features set in their most imperious mold. “We would achieve nothing by paying you, except”possibly a few days' respite . You have made that abundantly clear.精选文档○”98 “That's a chance you gotta...○Her voice was a whiplash. Eyes bored into him. Swallowing, sullenly , ”99 “Silence!he complied .significant most knew, could be the of 100 What came next, the Duchess Croydon thing she had ever done. There must be no mistake, no vacillation or dallying because you the highest stakes, you of her own smallness of mind. When were playing for made the highest bid. She intended to gamble on the fat man's greed. She must do so in such a way as to place the outcome beyond any doubt.We will not pay you ten thousand dollars. But we will 101 She declared decisively, “pay you twenty-five thousand dollars.”102 The house detective's eyes bulged. “You will drive our car north.”she continued evenly, 103 “In return for that,”104 Ogilvie continued to stare.Fifteen now. Ten thousand repeated. 105 “Twenty-five thousand dollars,”she “thousand more when you meet us in Chicago.”if eyes, as man licked his lips. His beady fat Still 106 without speaking, theunbelieving, were focused upon her own. The silence hung.107 Then, as she watched intently, he gave the slightest of nods.you, in' cigar “This bother Ogilvie silence 108 The remained. At length spoke.”Duchess?109 As she nodded, he put it out.(from Hotel, 1965)（范文素材和资料部分来自网络，供参考。
高英2 课文1 解释 包括paraphrases
Lesson One Face to Face with HurricaneCamilleJoseph P. BlankTitle1. face to face: The phrase in this context means “confronting one another.” This phrase connotes/ /意味着a sense of urgency and danger. The confrontation面对面is generally with something dangerous, difficult or hard to resolve. 面对面地e.g.: face to face with the enemye.g.: face to face with the tigere.g.: face to face with the problem2. hurricane: is a tropical storm in which winds attain speeds greater than 75 miles(about 121 kilometers) per hour. It is a powerful, spiraling螺旋形的storm that begins over a warm sea, near the equator. When a hurricane hits land, it can do great damage through its fierce winds, torrential/ / rains倾盆大雨, inland flooding, and huge waves crashing ashore. There storms are given a different label, depending on where they occur. If they begin over the North Atlantic Ocean大西洋, the Caribbean/ / Sea加勒比海, the Gulf of Mexico墨西哥, or the Northeast Pacific Ocean太平洋, they are called hurricanes. Similar storms that occur in the Northwest Pacific Ocean west of the International Date Line国际日期变更线are called typhoon s. Near Australia and in the Indian Ocean, they are referred to as tropical cyclones热带气旋。
(完整word版)高英3版第3课Blackmail课文全文
BlackmailArthur Hailey○1The chief house officer, Ogilvie, who had declared he would appear at the Croydons suite an hour after his cryptic telephone call actually took twice that time. As a result the nerves of both the Duke and Duchess were excessively frayed when the muted buzzer of the outer door eventually sounded.○2The Duchess went to the door herself. Earlier she had dispatched her maid on an invented errand and, cruelly, instructed the moon-faced male secretary –who was terrified of dogs –to exercise the Bedlington terriers. Her own tension was not lessened by the knowledge that both might return at any moment.○3 A wave of cigar smoke accompanied Ogilvie in. When he had followed her to the living room, the Duchess looked pointedly at the half-burned cigar in the fat man’s mouth. “My husband and I find strong smoke offensive. Would you kindly put that out."○4The house detective's piggy eyes surveyed her sardonically from his gross jowled face. His gaze moved on to sweep the spacious, well-appointed room, encompassing the Duke who faced them uncertainly, his back to a window.○5"Pretty neat set-up you folks got.” Taking his time, Ogilvie removed the offending cigar, knocked off the ash and flipped the butt toward an ornamental fireplace on his right. He missed, and the butt fell upon the carpet where he ignored it. ○6The Duchess's lips tightened. She said sharply, imagine you did not come here to discuss décor ".○7The obese body shook in an appreciative chuckle . "No, ma'am, can't say I did. I like nice things, though." He lowered the level of his incongruous falsetto voice." Like that car of yours. The one you keep here in the hotel. Jaguar, ain't it?"○8"Aah!" It was not a spoken word, but an emission of breath from the Duke of Croydon. His wife shot him a swift, warning glance.○9"In what conceivable way does our car concern you?”○10As if the question from the Duchess had been a signal, the house detective's manner changed. He inquired abruptly, "Who else is in this place?"○11It was the Duke who answered, "No one. We sent them out."○12"There's things it pays to check." Moving with surprising speed, the fat man walked around the suite, opening doors and inspecting the space behind them. Obviously he knew the room arrangement well. After reopening and closing the outer door, he returned, apparently satisfied, to the living room.○13The Duchess had seated herself in a straight-backed Ogilvie remained standing. ○14"Now then," he said. "You two was in the hit-'n-run ."○15She met his eyes directly." What are you talking about?"○16"Don't play games, lady. This is for real." He took out a fresh cigar and bit off the end, "You saw the papers. There's been plenty on radio, too."○17Two high points of color appeared in the paleness of the Duchess of Croydon's cheeks. "What you are suggesting is the most disgusting, ridiculous..."○18"I told you –Cut it out!” The words spat forth with sudden savagery , all pretense of blandness gone. Ignoring the Duke, Ogilvie waved the unlighted cigar under his adversary 's adversary 's nose. "You listen to me, your high-an'-mightiness. This city's burnin' mad – cops, mayor, everybody else. When they find who done that last night, who killed that kid an' its mother, then high-tailed it, they'll throw the book, and never mind who it hits, or whether they got fancy titles neither. Now I know what I know, and if I do what by rights I should, there'll be a squad of cops in here so fast you'll hardly see 'em. But I come to you first, in fairness, so's you could tell your side of it to me." The piggy eyes blinked, then hardened. " 'f you want it the other way, justsay so."○19The Duchess of Croydon – three centuries and a half of inbred arrogance behind her –did not yield easily. Springing to her feet, her face wrathful, gray-green eyes blazing, she faced the grossness of the house detective squarely. Her tone would have withered anyone who knew her well. “You unspeakable blackguard! How dare you!”○20Even the self-assurance of Ogilvie flickered for an instant. But it was the Duke of Croydon who interjected, "It's no go, old girl. I'm afraid. It was a good try." Facing Ogilvie, he said, "What you accuse us of is true. I am to blame. I was driving the car and killed the little girl."○21"That's more like it," Ogilvie said. He lit the fresh cigar. "Now we're getting somewhere."○22Wearily, in a gesture of surrender, the Duchess of Croydon sank back into her chair. Clasping her hands to conceal their trembling, she asked. "What is it you know?"○23"Well now, I'll spell it out." The house detective took his time, leisurely putting a cloud of blue cigar smoke, his eyes sardonically on the Duchess as if challenging her objection. But beyond wrinkling her nose in distaste, she made no comment.○24Ogilvie pointed to the Duke. "Last night, early on, you went to Lindy's Place in Irish Bayou. You drove there in your fancy Jaguar, and you took a lady friend. Leastways, I guess you'd call her that if you're not too fussy."○25As Ogilvie glanced, grinning, at the Duchess, the Duke said sharply, "Get on with it!"○26"Well" – the smug fat face swung back – "the way I hear it, you won a hundred at the tables, then lost it at the bar. You were into a second hundred –with a real swinging party – when your wife here got there in a taxi. "○27"How do you know all this?"○28"I'll tell you, Duke –I've been in this town and this hotel a long time. I got friends all over. I oblige them; they do the same for me, like letting me know what gives, an’ where. There ain't much, out of the way, which people who stay in this hotel do, I don't get to hear about. Most of ’em never know I know, or know me. They think they got their little secret tucked away , and so they have – except like now."○29The Duke said coldly, "I see."○30"One thing I'd like to know. I got a curious nature, ma’ am. How'd you figure where he was?"○31The Duchess said, "You know so much... I suppose it doesn't matter. My husband has a habit of making notes while he is telephoning. Afterward he often forgets to destroy them. ”○32The house detective clucked his tongue reprovingly . "A little careless habit like that, Duke – look at the mess it gets you in. Well, here's what I figure about the rest. You an' your wife took off home, you drivin', though the way things turned out it might have been better if she'd have drove."○33"My wife doesn't drive."○34Ogilvie nodded understandingly. "Explains that one. Anyway, I reckon you were lickered ( = liquored ) up, but good..."○35The Duchess interrupted. "Then you don't know! You don't know anything for sure! You can't possibly prove..."○36"Lady, I can prove all I need to."○37The Duke cautioned, "Better let him finish, old girl."○38"That's right," Ogilvie said. "Just sit an' listen. Last night I seen you come in –through the basement, so's not to use the lobby. Looked right shaken, too, the pair of you. Just come in myself, an' I got to wondering why. Like I said, I got a curious nature."○39The Duchess breathed, "Go on."○40"Late last night the word was out about the hit-'n-run. On a hunch I went over the garage and took a quiet look-see at your car. You maybe don't know – it's away in a corner, behind a pillar where the jockeys don't see it when they're comin' by."○41The Duke licked his lips. "I suppose that doesn't matter now."○42"You might have something there," Ogilvie conceded. "Anyway, what I found made me do some scouting -- across at police headquarters where they know me too." He paused to puff again at the cigar as his listeners waited silently. When the cigar tip was glowing he inspected it, then continued. "Over there they got three things to go on. They got a headlight trim ring which musta come off when the kid an’ the woman was hit. They got some headlight glass, and lookin’ at the kid's clothin', they reckon there'll be a brush trace. "○43"A what?"○44"You rub clothes against something hard, Duchess, specially if it's shiny like a car fender, say, an' it leaves a mark the same way as finger prints. The police lab kin pick it up like they do prints –dust it, an’ it shows."○45"That's interesting," the Duke said, as if speaking of something unconnected with himself. "I didn't know that."○46"Not many do. In this case, though, I reckon it don't make a lot o' difference. On your car you got a busted headlight, and the trim ring's gone. Ain't any doubt they'd match up, even without the brush trace an’ the blood. 0h yeah, I should a told you. There's plenty of blood, though it don't show too much on the black paint."○47"Oh, my God!" A hand to her face, the Duchess turned away.○48Her husband asked, "What do you propose to do?"○49The fat man rubbed his hands together, looking down at his thick, fleshy fingers. "Like I said, I come to hear your side of it."○50The Duke said despairingly, “What can I possibly say? You know what happened.” He made an attempt to square his shoulders which did not succeed. “You'd better call the police and get it over.”○51“Well now, there's no call for being hasty .” The incongruous falsetto voice took on a musing note. “What's done's been done. Rushing any place ain't gonna bring back the kid nor its mother neither. Besides, what they'd do to you across at the headquarters, Duke, you wouldn't like. No sir, you wouldn't like it at all.”○52The other two slowly raised their eyes.○53“I was hoping,” Ogilvie said, “that you folks could suggest something.”○54The Duke said uncertainly, “I don't understand.”○55“I understand,” the Duchess of Croydon said. “You want money, don't you? You came here to blackmail us.”○56If she expected her words to shock, they did not succeed. The house detective shrugged. “Whatever names you call things, ma'am, don't matter to me. All I come for was to help you people out of trouble. But I got to live too.”○57”You'd accept money to keep silent about what you know?”○58”I reckon I might.”○59”But from what you say,”the Duchess pointed out, her poise for the moment recovered, “it would do no good. The car would be discovered in any case.”○60”I guess you'd have to take that chance. But there's some reasons it might not be. Something I ain't told you yet.”○61“Tell us now, please.”○62Ogilvie said, “I ain't figured this out myself completely. But when you hit that kid you was going away from town, not to it.”○63”We'd made a mistake in the route,” the Duchess said. “Somehow we'd becometurned around. It's easily done in New Orleans, with the street winding as they do. Afterward, using side streets, we went back. “○64“I thought it might be that,”Ogilvie nodded understandingly. “But the police ain't figured it that way. They’re looking for somebody who was headed out. That's why, right now, they're workin' on the suburbs and the outside towns. They may get around to searchin' downtown, but it won't be yet. “○65“How long before they do?”○66“Maybe three, four days. They got a lot of other places to look first.”○67“ How could that help us --- the delay‘?”○68“It might,” Ogilvie said. “Providin' nobody twigs the car – an' seein' where it is, you might be lucky there. An' if you can get it away.”○69“You mean out of the state?”○70“I mean out o’ the South.”○71“That wouldn't be easy?”○72“No, ma'am. Every state around – Texas, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, all the rest'll be watching for a car damaged the way yours is.”○73The Duchess considered. “Is there any possibility of having repairs made first? If the work were done discreetly we could pay well. “○74The house detective shook his head emphatically. “You try that, you might as well walk over to headquarters right now an' give up. Every repair shop in Louisiana's been told to holler 'cops' the minute a car needing fixin' like yours comes in. They'd do it, too. You people are hot.”○75The Duchess of Croydon kept firm, tight rein on her racing mind. It was essential, she knew, that her thinking remain calm and reasoned. In the last few minutes the conversation had become as seemingly casual as if the discussion were of some minor domestic matter and not survival itself. She intended to keep it that way. Once more,she was aware, the role of leadership had fallen to her, her husband now a tense but passive spectator of the exchange between the evil tat man and herself. No matter. What was inevitable must be accepted. The important thing was to consider all eventualities. A thought occurred to her.○76“The piece from our car which you say the police have. What is it called?”○77“A trim ring.”○78“Is it traceable?”○79Ogilvie nodded affirmatively. “They can figure what kind o' car it's from --- make, model, an' maybe the year, or close to it. Same thing with the glass. But with your car being foreign, it'll likely take a few days.”○80“But after that,”she persisted, “the police will know they're looking for a Jaguar?”○81“I reckon that 's so. “○82Today was Tuesday. From all that this man said, they had until Friday or Saturday at best. With calculated coolness the Duchess reasoned: the situation came down to one essential. Assuming the hotel man was bought off, their only chance -- a slim one -- lay in removing the car quickly, If it could be got north, to one of the big cities where the New Orleans tragedy and search would be unknown, repairs could be made quietly, the incriminating evidence removed. Then, even if suspicion settled on the Croydons later, nothing could be proved. But how to get the car away?○83Undoubtedly what this oafish detective said was true: As well as Louisiana, the other states through which the car would have to pass would be alert and watchful. Every highway patrol would be on the lookout for a damaged head-light with a missing trim ring. There would probably be road-blocks. It would be hard not to fall victim to some sharpeyed policeman.○84But it might be done. If the car could be driven at night and concealed by day. There were plenty of places to pull off the highway and be unobserved. It would behazardous, but no more than waiting here for certain detection. There would be back roads. They could choose an unlikely route to avoid attention.○85But there would be other complications ... and now was the time to consider them. Traveling by secondary roads would be difficult unless knowing the terrain. The Croydons did not. Nor was either of them adept at using maps. And when they stopped for petrol, as they would have to, their speech and manner would betray them, making them conspicuous . And yet ... these were risks which had to be taken.○86Or had they?○87The Duchess faced Ogilvie. “How much do you want?”○88The abruptness took him by surprise. “Well ... I figure you people are pretty well fixed.”○89She said coldly, “I asked how much.”○90The piggy eyes blinked. Ten thousand dollars.”○91Though it was twice what she had expected, her expression did not change. “Assuming we paid this grotesque amount, what would we receive in return?”○92The fat man seemed puzzled. “Like I said, I keep quiet about what I know.”○93“And the alternative ?”○94He shrugged. “I go down the lobby. I pick up a phone. “○95“No,” The statement was unequivocal . “We will not pay, you.”○96As the Duke of Croydon shifted uneasily, the house detective's bulbous countenance reddened, “Now listen, lady…”○97Peremptorily she cut him oft. “I will not listen. Instead, you will listen to me.”Her eyes were riveted on his face, her handsome, high cheek boned features set in their most imperious mold. “We would achieve nothing by paying you, except possibly a few days' respite . You have made that abundantly clear.”○98“That's a chance you gotta...”○99“Silence!” Her voice was a whiplash. Eyes bored into him. Swallowing, sullenly , he complied .100 What came next, the Duchess of Croydon knew, could be the most significant thing she had ever done. There must be no mistake, no vacillation or dallying because of her own smallness of mind. When you were playing for the highest stakes, you made the highest bid. She intended to gamble on the fat man's greed. She must do so in such a way as to place the outcome beyond any doubt.101 She declared decisively, “We will not pay you ten thousand dollars. But we will pay you twenty-five thousand dollars.”102 The house detective's eyes bulged.103 “In return for that,” she continued evenly, “You will drive our car north.”104 Ogilvie continued to stare.105 “Twenty-five thousand dollars,”she repeated. “Ten thousand now. Fifteen thousand more when you meet us in Chicago.”106 Still without speaking, the fat man licked his lips. His beady eyes, as if unbelieving, were focused upon her own. The silence hung.107 Then, as she watched intently, he gave the slightest of nods.108 The silence remained. At length Ogilvie spoke. “This cigar bother in' you, Duchess?”109 As she nodded, he put it out.(from Hotel, 1965)。
AdE-9 b1高英第九单元课文详解
Part One
. All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark
Twain calleding before. There has been nothing as good since. ----Ernest Hemingway
Mirror of America
“Mirror ” is a piece of glass or other shinny/polished surface that reflects images. Here, it is a metaphor. It means a faithful representation or description of something.
(3). Why is Mark Twain the nation‟s best-loved author? (Please explain the statement „The nation’s best-loved author…’.) Mark Twain occupied an important place in the American literature. “The true father of our national literature” --- Henry L. Menken (scholar, critic, author of “The American Language”)
Prosperous Mississippi River Transcontinental Railroad Civil War Gold Rush Westward Expansion Seeing the outside world Tom Sawyer’s innocence Huck Finn’s experience
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高级英语第一册课文
The Middle Eastern Bazaar The Middle Eastern bazaar takes you back
hundreds --- even thousands --- of years. The one I am thinking of
particularly is entered by a Gothic - arched gateway of aged brick and
stone. You pass from the heat and glare of a big, open square into a cool,
dark cavernwhich extends as far as the eye can see, losing itself in the
shadowy distance. Little donkeys with harmoniously tinkling bells thread
their way among the throngsof people entering and leaving the bazaar. The
roadway is about twelve feet wide, but it is narrowed every few yards by
little stalls where goods of every conceivable kind are sold. The din of
the stall-holder; crying their wares, of donkey-boys and porters clearing
a way for themselves by shouting vigorously, and of would-be purchasers
arguing and bargaining is continuous and makes you dizzy.
Hiroshima -- the "Liveliest”City in Japan Jacques Danvoir
"Those are my lucky birds. Each day that I escape death, each day of suffering that helps to free
me From earthly cares, I make a new little paper bird, and add it to the others. This way I look at them
and congratulate myself of the good fortune that my illness has brought me. Because, thanks to it, I
have the opportunity to improve my character."
Once again, outside in the open air, I tore into little pieces a small notebook with questions that I'd
prepared in advance for inter views with the patients of the atomic ward. Among them was the question:
Do you really think that Hiroshima is the liveliest city in Japan? I never asked it. But I could read the answer in
every eye.