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Thursday was the day of the ball; and on Wednesday morning Fanny, still unable to satisfy herself as to what she ought to wear, determined to seek the counsel of the more enlightened, and apply to Mrs. Grant and her sister, whose acknowledged taste would certainly bear her blameless; and as Edmund and William were gone to Northampton, and she had reason to think Mr. Crawford likewise out, she walked down to the Parsonage without much fear of wanting an opportunity for private discussion; and the privacy of such a discussion was a most important part of it to Fanny, being more than half-ashamed of her own solicitude. ¡¡¡¡
She met Miss Crawford within a few yards of the Parsonage, just setting out to call on her, and as it seemed to her that her friend, though obliged to insist on turning back, was unwilling to lose her walk, she explained her business at once, and observed, that if she would be so kind as to give her opinion

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took to wearing straw-coloured kid gloves in the streets, and laid the foundations of all the corns I have ever had. If the boots I wore at that period could only be produced and compared with the natural size of my feet, they would show what the state of my heart was, in a most affecting manner. ¡¡¡¡And yet, wretched cripple as I made myself by this act of homage to Dora, I walked miles upon miles daily in the hope of seeing her. Not only was I soon as well known on the Norwood Road as the postmen on that beat, but I pervaded London likewise. I walked about the streets where the best shops for ladies were,
I haunted the Bazaar like an unquiet spirit, I fagged through the Park again and again, long after I was quite knocked up. Sometimes, at long intervals and on rare occasions, I saw her. Perhaps I saw her glove waved in a carriage window; perhaps I met her, walked with her and Miss Murdstone a little way, and spoke to her. In the latter case I was always very miserable afterwards, to think that I had said nothing to the purpose; or that she had no idea of the extent of my devotion, or that she cared

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of staying to dinner, lest she should by any chance fail to arrive at home with the grey pony before dark; and as I apprehend Mr. Wickfield knew her too well to argue any point with her; some lunch was provided for her there, and Agnes went back to her governess, and Mr. Wickfield to his office. So we were left to take leave of one another without any restraint. ¡¡¡¡She told me that everything would be arranged for me by Mr. Wickfield, and that I should want for nothing, and gave me the kindest a credit to yourself, to me, and Mr. Dick, and Heaven be with you!' ¡¡¡¡I was greatly overcome, and could only thank her, again and again, and send my love to Mr. Dick. ¡¡¡¡'Never,' said my aunt, 'be mean in anything; never be false; never be cruel. Avoid those three vices, Trot, and I can always be hopeful of you.' ¡¡¡¡I promised, as well as I could, that I would not abuse her kindness or forget her admonition.

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Came days of storm, days and nights of storm, when the ocean menaced us with its roaring whiteness and the wind smote our struggling boat with a Titan's buffets. And ever we were flung off farther and farther to the northeast. It was in such a storm, and the worst that we had experienced, that I cast a weary glance to leeward, not in quest of anything, but more from the weariness of facing the elemental strife and in mute appeal, almost, to the wrathful powers to cease and let us be. What I saw I could not at first believe; days and nights of sleeplessness and anxiety had doubtless turned my head. I looked back at Maud,
to identify myself, as it were, in time and space. The sight of her dear wet cheeks, her flying hair, and her brave brown eyes convinced me that my vision was still healthy. Again I turned my face to leeward, and again I saw the jutting promontory, black and high and naked, the raging surf that broke about its base and beat its front high up with spouting fountains, the black and forbidding coastline running toward the southeast and fringed with a tremendous scarf of white.

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mid-air doubling his body at the hips, he let fly with both feet. The oncoming Harrison caught the kick squarely in the pit of the stomach, groaned involuntarily, and doubled up and backward to the deck. ¡¡¡¡Hand-clapping and roars of laughter from the hunters greeted the exploit while Mugridge, eluding half of his pursuers at the foremast, ran aft and through the remainder like a runner on the football field. Straight aft he held to the poop, and along the poop to the stern. So great was his speed that as he curved past the corner of the cabin he slipped and fell. Nilson was standing at the wheel, and the Cockney's hurling body struck his legs. Both went down together, but Mugridge alone arose. By some freak of pressures, his frail body had snapped the strong man's leg like a pipe-stem. ¡¡¡¡Parsons took the wheel, and the pursuit continued. Round and round the decks they went, Mugridge sick with fear, the sailors hallooing and shouting directions

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¡¡¡¡In the bow was Kerfoot, Oofty-Oofty in the stern, and Kelly amidships. As we drifted closer, the boat would rise on a wave while we sank in the trough, till, almost straight above me, I could see the heads of the three men craned overside and looking down. Then, the next moment, we would lift and soar upward while they sank far down beneath us. It seemed incredible that the next surge should not crush the Ghost down upon the tiny eggshell. ¡¡¡¡But, at the right moment, I passed the tackle to the Kanaka, while Wolf Larsen did the same thing forward to Kerfoot. Both tackles were hooked in a trice, and the three men, deftly timing the roll, made a simultaneous leap aboard the schooner. As the Ghost rolled her side out of water, the boat was lifted snugly against her, and before the return roll came we had heaved it in over the side and turned it bottom up on the deck. I noticed blood spouting from Kerfoot's left hand. In some way the third finger had been crushed to a pulp. But he gave no sign of pain, and with his single right hand helped us lash the boat in its place.

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could sometimes have felt sorry for him, as, for instance, one morning when I went into his state-room to fill his water-bottle and came unexpectedly upon him. He did not see me. His head was buried in his hands, and his shoulders were heaving convulsively as with sobs. He seemed torn by some mighty grief. As I softly withdrew, I could hear him groaning, 'God! God! God!' Not that he was calling upon God; it was a mere expletive, but it came from his soul. ¡¡¡¡At dinner he asked the hunters for a remedy for headache, and by evening, strong man that he was, he was half blind, and reeling about the cabin. ¡¡¡¡'I've never been sick in my life, Hump,' he said, as I guided him to his room. 'Nor did I ever have a headache except the time my head was healing after having been laid open for six inches by a capstan-bar.' ¡¡¡¡For three days this blinding headache lasted, and he suffered as wild animals suffer, as it seemed the way on ship to suffer, without plaint, without sympathy, utterly alone.

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of things, I concentrated it upon a few particular things, such as, for instance, the analysis of Poe's place in American literature, an essay of mine, by the way, in the current 'Atlantic.' Coming aboard, as I passed through the cabin, I had noticed with greedy eyes a stout gentleman reading the 'Atlantic,' which was open at my very essay. And there it was again, the division of labor, the special knowledge of the pilot and captain which permitted the stout gentleman to read my special knowledge on Poe while they carried him safely from Sausalito to San Francisco. ¡¡¡¡A red-faced man, slamming the cabin door behind him and stumping out on the deck, interrupted my reflections, though I made a mental note of the topic for use in a projected essay which I had thought of calling 'The Necessity for Freedom: A Plea for the Artist.' The red-faced man shot a glance up at the pilot-house, gazed around at the fog, stumped across the deck and back (he evidently had artificial legs), and stood still by my side, legs wide apart and with an expression of keen enjoyment on his face. I was not wrong when I decided that his days had been spent on the sea.

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¡¡¡¡The lineaments, as such, seemed to complain. They had been diverted from their hereditary connotation to signify impressions for which Nature did not intend them. Strange that their very elevation was a misapplication, that to raise seemed to falsify. ¡¡¡¡Yet could it be so? She would admit the ungenerous sentiment no longer. D'Urberville was not the first wicked man who had turned away from his wickedness to save his soul alive, and why should she deem it unnatural to him? It was but the usage of thought which had been jarred in her at hearing good new words in bad old notes. The greater the sinner the greater the saint; it was not necessary to dive far into Christian history to discover that. ¡¡¡¡Such impressions as these moved her vaguely, and without strict definiteness. As soon as the nerveless pause of her surprise would allow her to stir, her impulse was to pass on out of his sight. He had obviously not discerned her yet in her position against the sun.

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夷人尽管善弓，但商军的箭镞以青铜打造，精巧而锋利，其射程远、杀伤力大，而且商军作战部队中甚至出现了“象队”，古书上说：“商人服象为虐于东夷。”大象象牙轻易地戳穿了东夷人的胸膛然后把尸体抛向空中，东夷的军队一批批倒了下去。被纣王指挥的商军一阵冲杀，层层包围，东夷人的部队大部分做了俘虏?




据说，商军如秋风扫落叶一样，一直打到长江下游，降服了大多数东夷部落，俘虏了成千上万的东夷人，取得大胜。从此以后，中原和东南一带的交通得到开发，中部和东南部的关系密切了。中原地区的文化逐渐传播到了东南地区，使当地人民利用优越的自然地理条件发展了生产。

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Thus steadied by a command from the only person in the world who had any shadow of right to control her action, Tess grew calmer. The responsibility was shifted, and her heart was lighter than it had been for weeks. The days of declining autumn which followed her assent, beginning with the month of October, formed a season through which she lived in spiritual altitudes more nearly approaching ecstasy than any other period of her life. ¡¡¡¡There was hardly a touch of earth in her love for Clare. To her sublime trustfulness he was all that goodness could be - knew all that a guide, philosopher, and friend should know. She thought every line in the contour of his person the perfection of masculine beauty, his soul the soul of a saint, his intellect that of a seer. The wisdom of her love for him, as love, sustained her dignity; she seemed to be wearing a crown. The compassion of his love for her, as she saw it, made her lift up her heart to him in devotion. He would sometimes catch her large, worshipful eyes, that had no bottom to them, looking at him from their depths, as if she saw something immortal before her.

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She obeyed the signal to wait for him with unspeculative repose, and in a few minutes man and horse stopped beside her. ¡¡¡¡`Why did you slip away by stealth like this?' said d'Urberville, with upbraiding breathlessness; `on a Sunday morning, too, when people were all in bed! I only discovered it by accident, and I have been driving like the deuce to overtake you. Just look at the mare. Why go off like this? You know that nobody wished to hinder your going. And how unnecessary it has been for you to toll along on foot, and encumber yourself with this heavy load! I have followed like a madman, simply to drive you the rest of the distance, if you won't come back.' ¡¡¡¡`I shan't come back,' said she. thought you wouldn't - I said so! Well, then, put up your baskets, and let me help you on.' ¡¡¡¡She listlessly placed her basket and bundle within the dog-cart, and stepped up, and they sat side by side. She had no fear of him now, and in the cause of her confidence her sorrow lay.

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returned to the yard, and the process was repeated till all the pet cocks and hens had been submitted to the old woman - Hamburghs, Bantams, Cochins, Brahmas, Dorkings, and such other sorts as were in fashion just then - her perception of each visitor being seldom at fault as she received the bird upon her knees. ¡¡¡¡It reminded Tess of a Confirmation, in which Mrs d'Urberville was the bishop, the fowls the young people presented, and herself and the maidservant the parson and curate of the parish bringing them up. At the end of the ceremony Mrs d'Urberville abruptly asked Tess, wrinkling and twitching her face into undulations, `Can you whistle?' ¡¡¡¡`Whistle, Ma'am?' Yes, whistle tunes.' ¡¡¡¡Tess could whistle like most other country girls, though the accomplishment was one which she did not care to profess in genteel company. However, she blandly admitted that such was the fact.

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twice from her horse, but at the end of it here she was. Vibrant, alive, apersonality one could not ignore for a moment. He took off his hat to her mentally. Someday, of course, she would come a cropper. You could only bear a charmed life for so long.His eyes went from mother to daughter. He wondered. He wondered very much.
　　In Elvira Blake, he thought, everything had beendriven inward. Bess Sedgwick had got through life by imposing her will on it. Elvira, heguessed, had a different way of getting through life. She submitted, he thought. Sheobeyed. She smiled in compliance and behind that, he thought, she slipped away throughyour fingers. "Sly," he said tohimself, appraising that fact. "That's the only way she can manage, I expect. She can never brazen things out orimpose herself. That's why, I expect, the people who've looked after her have never had the least idea of what she might be up to.