Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herlf.
一什么平川达洛维夫人说她要亲自去买些花。
云南大理旅游邓梦婷For Lucy had her work cut out for her. The doors would be taken off their hinges; umpelmayer's men were coming. And then, thought Clarissa Dalloway, what a morning—fresh as if issued to children on a beach.
坚持不懈的英语
因为露西已有一份合适的工作要做。要把门从铰链上卸下来；昂伯尔梅尔公司的人就要到了。然后，克拉丽莎·达洛维思忖，多惬意的早晨啊——空气清新得仿佛是特意送给海滩上的孩子们似的。
What a lark! What a plunge! For so it had always emed to her, when, with a little squeak of the hinges, which she could hear now, she had burst open the French windows and plunged at Bourton into the open air. How fresh, how calm, stiller than this of cour, the air was in the early morning; like the flap of a wave; the kiss of a wave; chill and sharp and yet (for a girl of eighteen as she then was) solemn, feeling as she did, standing there at the ope
n window, that something awful was about to happen; looking at the flowers, at the trees with the smoke winding off them and the rooks rising,falling; standing and looking until Peter Walsh said, "Musing among the vegetables"—was that it—"I prefer men to cauliflowers"—was that it He must have said it at breakfast one morning when she had gone out on to the terrace—Peter Walsh. He would be back from India one of the days, June or July, she forgot which, for his letters were awfully dull; it was his sayings one remembered; his eyes, his pocket-knife, his smile, his grumpiness and, when millions of things had utterly vanished—how strange it was!—a few sayings like this about cabbages.
走合期多么动听的百灵！多么迅疾的举动！对她来说过去似乎总是这样，随着合叶轻微的吱吱声，这声音她现在也能听到，她会突然打开落地窗，扎到伯顿的户外。那里清晨的空气多清新、多宁静，自然比眼前的更静谧，宛如浪涛拍打，又像浪花亲吻，冰冷刺骨却又（对当时她这样芳龄十八的姑娘来说）显得肃穆，那时她对着敞开的窗伫立着，预感到某种可怕的事即将发生。她赏着花，凝视着雾霭缭绕的树丛和飞起飞落的白嘴鸭，这样站着凝视着直到听见彼得·沃尔什说：“在蔬菜中冥想吗”——说了那样的话吗“我喜欢人胜过花椰菜”—
—说了那样的话吗他——彼得·沃尔什一定在一天早晨吃早餐时说了那样的话，那时她已走到外面的阳台了。近日他会从印度归来，是六月还是七月，她忘了，因为他写的信异常乏味。他的话她倒记得。他的双眼、他的折叠刀、他的微笑、他的暴躁，千百万件往事都已如烟消散——真怪！几句如此有关卷心菜的话却浮现出来。
She stiffened a little on the kerb, waiting for Durtnall's van to pass. A charming woman, Scrope Purvis thought her (knowing her as one does know people who live next door to one in Westminster); a touch of the bird about her, of the jay, blue-green, light, vivacious, though she was over fifty, and grown very white since her illness. There she perched, never eing him, waiting to cross, very upright.关于家的句子
她站在马路边上的一个大石头旁，稍微挺了挺身子，等达特奈尔公司的运货车开过。真是个迷人的女人，斯克罗普·珀维斯这样认为（他熟悉她就如你了解住在威斯敏斯特区隔壁的人那样）。她有一点鸟的特性，犹如松鸦，青绿、轻快、活泼，尽管她已五十有余，并且患病以来愈显苍白。她倚在马路边上，压根儿没看到他，直立着身子，等着过街。
For having lived in Westminster—how many years now over twenty,—one feels even in th
e midst of the traffic, or waking at night, Clarissa was positive, a particular hush, or solemnity; an indescribable pau; a suspen (but that might be her heart, affected, they said, by influenza) before Big Ben strikes. There! Out it boomed. First a warning, musical; then the hour, irrevocable. The leaden circles dissolved in the air. Such fools we are, she thought, crossing Victoria Street. For Heaven only knows why one loves it so, how one es it so,making it up, building it round one, tumbling it, creating it every moment afresh; but the veriest frumps, the most dejected of miries sitting on doorsteps (drink their downfall) do the same; can't be dealt with, she felt positive, by Acts of Parliament for that very reason: they love life. In people's eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibus, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June.
在威斯敏斯特区住了——到如今多少年有二十几年吧——克拉丽莎可以肯定，即使置身于川流不息的大街，亦或夜晚梦醒，你都会觉察出一种特有的静谧，或是肃穆；一种难以名
状的停滞；大本钟敲响之前的心神不宁（不过他们说，那或许是由于她的心脏受了流感的影响）。听啊！钟声隆隆地响起来了。开始是预报，悦耳动听；接着是报时，精确无误。如铅般沉重的音波在空气中渐渐消逝。她一边穿过维多利亚大街，一边思忖，我们真是大笨蛋。因为只有天晓得为何人如此热爱生活，怎样看待生活，为之精心构思，围绕自己来构建生活，又将其推翻，每时每刻都在刷新重建；但是即便衣着过时之极的老顽固，坐在门阶上异常懊丧苦恼之辈（酗酒致使他们潦倒）也这般看待生活；她毫不怀疑，正是由于那个原因，即使是议会法案也无可奈何：人们就是热爱生活。在人们眼里，在轻盈的、沉重的、艰难的步履中，在吼叫和喧嚣里，在四轮马车、汽车、公共汽车、有蓬货车、胸前身后都挂有广告牌的脚步沉重、摇摇摆摆的广告员中，铜管乐队，手摇风琴，在庆功的欢呼声和铃儿的叮当声以及头顶上空飞机奇怪的高歌声中，有她热爱的事物。生活、伦敦、这六月的时刻。
For it was the middle of June. The War was over, except for some one like Mrs. Foxcroft at the Embassy last night eating her heart out becau that nice boy was killed and now the old Manor Hou must go to a cousin; or Lady Bexborough who opened a bazaar, they said, with the telegram in her hand, John, her favourite, killed; but it was over; thank
输血反应有哪些Heaven—over. It was June. The King and Queen were at the Palace. And everywhere, though it was still so early, there was a beating, a stirring of galloping ponies, tapping of cricket bats; Lords, Ascot, Ranelagh and all the rest of it; wrapped in the soft mesh of the grey-blue morning air, which, as the day wore on, would unwind them, and t down on their lawns and pitches the bouncing ponies, who forefeet just struck the ground and up they sprung, the whirling young men,and laughing girls in their transparent muslins who, even now, after dancing all night, were taking their absurd woolly dogs for a run; and even now, at this hour, discreet old dowagers were shooting out in their motor cars on errands of mystery;and the shopkeepers were fidgeting in their windows with their paste and diamonds, their lovely old a-green brooches in eighteenth-century ttings to tempt Americans (but one must economi, not buy things rashly for Elizabeth),and she, too, loving it as she did with an absurd and faithful passion, being part of it, since her people were courtiers once in the time of the Georges, she, too, was going that very night to kindle and illuminate; to give her party. But how strange, on entering the Park, the silence; the mist;the hum; the slow-swimming happy ducks; the pouched birds waddling;
and who should be coming along with his back against the Government buildings, most appropriately, carrying a despatch box stamped with the Royal Arms, who but Hugh Whitbread; her old friend Hugh—the admirable Hugh!
因为时值六月中旬。战事停止了，除了如福克斯克罗夫特夫人一样的人以外，昨晚她在大使馆悲痛欲绝，她的好儿子战死了，如今那座古老的庄园只好归于她侄子名下；还有贝克斯伯勒女士，人们说她主持义卖开幕时，手中还握着电报，通知她最疼的儿子约翰阵亡了。不过战事停止了，感谢主——都停止了。时值六月。国王与王后都待在宫中。虽然时间尚早，四处已响起了有节奏的运动声、马驹奔跑的嗒嗒声、板球拍的轻叩声。洛兹板球场、爱斯科赛马场、拉内拉赫高尔夫俱乐部等所有娱乐场都淹没在柔软的类似网状的蓝灰色晨雾里。当白天一分一秒过去，雾渐消散，欢快的马驹会跑到娱乐场的草地与球场上，前蹄刚着地旋即一跃而起。还有转着圈的小伙子，笑容满面、身着透明纱衫的姑娘，即便此时，彻夜跳舞以后，还带上他们荒诞的毛茸茸的狗出来溜溜。而且即使现在，这样的时刻，那些谨慎的韶华已逝的遗孀们也上了汽车，急急忙忙投身于神秘的差使。店主们正手忙脚乱地在橱窗里摆放人造宝石和钻石，那美丽的古色古香的海绿色胸针镶在十八世纪样式的底座上诱使美国佬来买（但是一定要节俭，不要轻易给伊丽莎白买饰品）。她自己也
喜爱这些珠宝，似乎怀着一种荒诞又虔诚的情感，因为她就是其中的一份子，她的先辈曾经是乔治时代的廷臣，她这个晚上也要闪亮辉煌地登场；参加她的聚会。可是一走进公园，那静谧是多么奇怪啊！那薄雾，那嗡嗡声，那悠然游走的欢快的鸭子，那步态摇摆的长有袋囊的鸟，那个迎面而来的人该是谁呢他身后是政府大楼，完全没错，携带一个盖着皇室纹章的公文派送箱，正是休·惠特布雷德；她的故交休——可敬的休！
"Good morning to you, Clarissa!" said Hugh, rather extravagantly, for they had known each other as children. "Where are you off to"
“早安，克拉丽莎！”休煞有介事地问候道，因为他俩儿时便相识了。“你要动身去哪里”"I love walking in London," said Mrs. Dalloway. "Really it's better than walking in the country."
>天使翅膀怎么画
