Clayhanger, by Arnold Bennett


This book is one of several written by Bennett about life in the

Staffordshire Potteries in the last quarter of the nineteenth century.

The hero is Edwin Clayhanger, and we see him through his childhood,

adolescence, early working life, when he was working for his martinet

old father, and to the point where he inherits the business, which is


Bennett comes from that area of industrial Britain, and the book rings

true on every page.








Edwin Clayhanger stood on the steep-sloping, red-bricked canal bridge,

in the valley between Bursley and its suburb Hillport. In that

neighbourhood the Knype and Mersey canal formed the westernboundary of

the industrialism of the Five Towns. To the east rose pitheads,

chimneys, and kilns, tier above tier, dim in their own mists. To the

west, Hillport Fields, grimed but possessing authentic hedgerows and

winding paths, mounted broadly up to the sharp ridge on which stood

Hillport Church, a landmark. Beyond the ridge, and partly protected by

it from the driving smoke of the Five Towns, lay the fine and ancient

Tory borough of Oldcastle, from whose historic Middle School Edwin

Clayhanger was now walking home. The fine and ancient Tory borough

provided education for the whole of the Five Towns, but the relentless

ignorance of its prejudices had blighted the district. A hundred years

earlier the canal had only been obtained after a vicious Parliamentary

fight between industry and the fine and ancient borough, which saw in

canals a menace to its importance as a centre of traffic. Fifty years

earlier the fine and ancient borough had succeeded in forcing the

greatest railway line in England to run through unpopulated country five

miles off instead of through the Five Towns, because it loathed the mere

conception of a railway. And now, people are inquiring why the Five

Towns, with a railway system special to itself, is characterised by a

perhaps excessive provincialism. These interesting details have

everything to do with the history of Edwin Clayhanger, as they have

everything to do with the history of each of the two hundred thousand

souls in the Five Towns. Oldcastle guessed not the vast influences of

its sublime stupidity.

It was a breezy Friday in July 1872. The canal, which ran north and

south, reflected a blue and white sky. Towards the bridge, from the

north came a long narrow canal-boat roofed with tarpaulins; and towards

the bridge, from the south came a similar craft, sluggishly creeping.

The towing-path was a morass of sticky brown mud, for, in the way of

rain, that year was breaking the records of a century and a half.

Thirty yards in front of each boat an unhappyskeleton of a horse

floundered its best in the quagmire. The honest endeavour of one of the

animals received a frequent tonic from a bare-legged girl of seven who

heartily curled a whip about its crooked large-jointed legs. The ragged

and filthy child danced in the rich mud round the horse's flanks with

the simple joy of one who had been rewarded for good behaviour by the

unrestricted use of a whip for the first time.



Edwin, with his elbows on the stone parapet of the bridge, stared

uninterested at the spectacle of the child, the whip, and the skeleton.

He was not insensible to the piquancy of the pageant of life, but his

mind was preoccupied with grave and heavy matters. He had left school

that day, and what his eyes saw as he leaned on the bridge was not a

willing beast and a gladdened infant, but the puzzling world and the

advance guard of its problems bearing down on him. Slim, gawky, untidy,

fair, with his worn black-braided clothes, and slung over his shoulders

in a bursting satchel the last load of his schoolbooks, and on his

bright, rough hair a shapeless cap whose lining protruded behind, he had

the extraordinarywistful look of innocence and simplicity which marks

most boys of sixteen. It seemed rather a shame, it seemed even tragic,

that this naive, simple creature, with his straightforward and friendly

eyes so eager to believe appearances, this creature immaculate of

worldly experience, must soon be transformed into a man, wary,

incredulous, detracting. Older eyes might have wept at the simplicity

of those eyes.

This picture of Edwin as a wistfulinnocent would have made Edwin laugh.

He had been seven years at school, and considered himself a hardened

sort of brute, free of illusions. And he sometimes thought that he

could judge the world better than most neighbouring mortals.

"Hello! The Sunday!" he murmured, without turning his eyes.

Another boy, a little younger and shorter, and clothed in a superior

untidiness, had somehow got on to the bridge, and was leaning with his

back against the parapet which supported Edwin's elbows. His eyes were

franker and simpler even than the eyes of Edwin, and his lips seemed to

be permanently parted in a good-humoured smile. His name was Charlie

Orgreave, but at school he was invariably called "the Sunday"--not

"Sunday," but "the Sunday"--and nobody could authoritatively explain how

he had come by the nickname. Its origin was lost in the prehistoric

ages of his childhood. He and Edwin had been chums for several years.

They had not sworn fearful oaths of loyalty; they did not constitute a

secret society; they had not even pricked forearms and written certain

words in blood; for these rites are only performed at Harrow, and

possibly at the Oldcastle High School, which imitates Harrow. Their

fellowship meant chiefly that they spent a great deal of time together,

instinctively and unconsciously enjoying each other's mere presence, and

that in public arguments they always reinforced each other, whatever the

degree of intellectual dishonesty thereby necessitated.

"I'll bet you mine gets to the bridge first," said the Sunday. With an

ingenious movement of the shoulders he arranged himself so that the

parapet should bear the weight of his satchel.

Edwin Clayhanger slowly turned round, and perceived that the object

which the Sunday had appropriated as "his" was the other canal-boat,

advancing from the south.

"Horse or boat?" asked Edwin.

"Boat's nose, of course," said the Sunday.

"Well," said Edwin, having surveyed the unconscious competitors, and

counting on the aid of the whipping child, "I don't mind laying you


"That be damned for a tale!" protested the Sunday. "We said we'd never

bet less than ten--you know that."

"Yes, but--" Edwin hesitatingly drawled.

"But what?"

"All right. Ten," Edwin agreed. "But it's not fair. You've got a rare

start on me."

"Rats!" said the Sunday, with finality. In the pronunciation of this

word the difference between his accent and Edwin's came out clear. The

Sunday's accent was less local; there was a hint of a short "e" sound in

the "a," and a briskness about the consonants, that Edwin could never

have compassed. The Sunday's accent was as carelessly superior as his

clothes. Evidently the Sunday had some one at home who had not learnt

the art of speech in the Five Towns.



He began to outline a scheme, in which perpendicular expectoration

figured, for accurately deciding the winner, and a complicated argument

might have ensued about this, had it not soon become apparent that

Edwin's boat was going to be handsomely beaten, despite the joyous

efforts of the little child. The horse that would die but would not

give up, was only saved from total subsidence at every step by his

indomitable if aged spirit. Edwin handed over the ten marbles even

before the other boat had arrived at the bridge.

"Here," he said. "And you may as well have these, too," adding five

more to the ten, all he possessed. They were not the paltry marble of

to-day, plaything of infants, but the majestic "rinker," black with

white spots, the king of marbles in an era when whole populations

practised the game. Edwin looked at them half regretfully as they lay

in the Sunday's hands. They seemed prodigiouswealth in those hands,

and he felt somewhat as a condemned man might feel who bequeaths his

jewels on the scaffold. Then there was a rattle, and a tumour grew out

larger on the Sunday's thigh.

The winning boat, long preceded by its horse, crawled under the bridge

and passed northwards to the sea, laden with crates of earthenware. And

then the loser, with the little girl's father and mother and her

brothers and sisters, and her kitchen, drawing-room, and bedroom, and

her smoking chimney and her memories and all that was hers, in the stern

of it, slid beneath the boys' down-turned faces while the whip cracked

away beyond the bridge. They could see, between the whitened

tarpaulins, that the deep belly of the craft was filled with clay.

"Where does that there clay come from?" asked Edwin. For not merely was

he honestly struck by a sudden new curiosity, but it was meet for him to

behave like a man now, and to ask manly questions.

"Runcorn," said the Sunday scornfully. "Can't you see it painted all

over the boat?"

"Why do they bring clay all the way from Runcorn?"

"They don't bring it from Runcorn. They bring it from Cornwall. It

comes round by sea--see?" He laughed.

"Who told you?" Edwin roughly demanded.

"Anybody knows that!" said the Sunday grandly, but always maintaining

his gay smile.

"Seems devilish funny to me," Edwin murmured, after reflection, "that

they should bring clay all that roundabout way just to make crocks of it

here. Why should they choose just this place to make crocks in? I

always understood--"

"Oh! Come on!" the Sunday cut him short. "It's blessed well one

o'clock and after!"



They climbed the long bank from the canal up to the Manor Farm, at which

high point their roads diverged, one path leading direct to Bleakridge

where Orgreave lived, and the other zigzagging down through neglected

pasturage into Bursley proper. Usually they parted here without a word,

taking pride in such Spartan taciturnity, and they would doubtless have

done the same this morning also, though it were fifty-fold their last

walk together as two schoolboys. But an incident intervened.

"Hold on!" cried the Sunday.

To the south of them, a mile and a half off, in the wreathing mist of

the Cauldon Bar Ironworks, there was a yellow gleam that even the

capricious sunlight could not kill, and then two rivers of fire sprang

from the gleam and ran in a thousand delicate and lovely hues down the

side of a mountain of refuse. They were emptying a few tons of molten

slag at the Cauldon Bar Ironworks. The two rivers hung slowly dying in

the mists of smoke. They reddened and faded, and you thought they had

vanished, and you could see them yet, and then they escaped the baffled

eye, unless a cloud aided them for a moment against the sun; and their

ephemeral but enchanting beauty had expired for ever.

"Now!" said Edwin sharply.

"One minute ten seconds," said the Sunday, who had snatched out his

watch, an inestimable contrivance with a centre-seconds hand. "By Jove!

That was a good 'un."

A moment later two smaller boys, both laden with satchels, appeared over

the brow from the canal.

"Let's wait a jiff," said the Sunday to Edwin, and as the smaller boys

showed no hurry he bawled out to them across the intervening

cinder-waste: "Run!" They ran. They were his younger brothers, Johnnie

and Jimmie. "Take this and hook it!" he commanded, passing the strap of

his satchel over his head as they came up. In fatalistic silence they

obeyed the smiling tyrant.

"What are you going to do?" Edwin asked.

"I'm coming down your way a bit."

"But I thought you said you were peckish."

"I shall eat three slices of beef instead of my usual brace," said the

Sunday carelessly.

Edwin was touched. And the Sunday was touched, because he knew he had

touched Edwin. After all, this was a solemn occasion. But neither

would overtly admit that its solemnity had affected him. Hence, first

one and then the other began to skim stones with vicious force over the

surface of the largest of the three ponds that gave interest to the

Manor Farm. When they had thus proved to themselves that the day

differed in no manner from any other breaking-up day, they went forward.

On their left were two pitheads whose double wheels revolved rapidly in

smooth silence, and the puffing engine-house and all the trucks and gear

of a large ironstone mine. On their right was the astonishing farm,

with barns and ricks and cornfields complete, seemingly quite unaware of

its forlorn oddness in that foul arena of manufacture. In front, on a

little hill in the vast valley, was spread out the Indian-red

architecture of Bursley--tall chimneys and rounded ovens, schools, the

new scarlet market, the grey tower of the old church, the high spire of

the evangelical church, the low spire of the church of genuflexions, and

the crimson chapels, and rows of little red houses with amber

chimney-pots, and the gold angel of the blackened Town Hall topping the

whole. The sedate reddish browns and reds of the composition, all

netted in flowing scarves of smoke, harmonised exquisitely with the

chill blues of the chequered sky. Beauty was achieved, and none saw it.

The boys descended without a word through the brick-strewn pastures,

where a horse or two cropped the short grass. At the railway bridge,

which carried a branch mineral line over the path, they exchanged a

brief volley of words with the working-lads who always played

pitch-and-toss there in the dinner-hour; and the Sunday added to the

collection of shawds and stones lodged on the under ledges of the low

iron girders. A strange boy, he had sworn to put ten thousand stones on

those ledges before he died, or perish in the attempt. Hence Edwin

sometimes called him "Old Perish-in-the-attempt." A little farther on

the open gates of a manufactory disclosed six men playing the noble game

of rinkers on a smooth patch of ground near the weighing machine. These

six men were Messieurs Ford, Carter, and Udall, the three partners

owning the works, and three of their employees. They were celebrated

marble-players, and the boys stayed to watch them as, bending with one

knee almost touching the earth, they shot the rinkers from their stubby

thumbs with a canon-like force and precision that no boy could ever hope

to equal. "By gum!" mumbled Edwin involuntarily, when an impossible

shot was accomplished; and the bearded shooter, pleased by this tribute

from youth, twisted his white apron into a still narrower ring round his

waist. Yet Edwin was not thinking about the game. He was thinking

about a battle that lay before him, and how he would be weakened in the

fight by the fact that in the last school examination, Charlie Orgreave,

younger than himself by a year, had ousted him from the second place in

the school. The report in his pocket said: "Position in class next

term: third;" whereas he had been second since the beginning of the

year. There would of course be no "next term" for him, but the report

  • working [´wə:kiŋ] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.工人的;劳动的   (初中英语单词)
  • industrial [in´dʌstriəl] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.工业的,产业的   (初中英语单词)
  • valley [´væli] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.谷;河谷;流域   (初中英语单词)
  • western [´westən] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.西的;西方的   (初中英语单词)
  • boundary [´baundəri] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.界线,边界   (初中英语单词)
  • partly [´pɑ:tli] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.部分地;不完全地   (初中英语单词)
  • menace [´menəs] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.威胁(者) v.恐吓   (初中英语单词)
  • traffic [´træfik] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.交通,运输   (初中英语单词)
  • system [´sistəm] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.系统,体系,制度   (初中英语单词)
  • unhappy [ʌn´hæpi] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.不幸的;不快乐的   (初中英语单词)
  • endeavour [in´devə] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.&v.努力,试图,尽力   (初中英语单词)
  • frequent [´fri:kwənt] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.常见的,频繁的   (初中英语单词)
  • spectacle [´spektəkəl] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.展览;表演;景象   (初中英语单词)
  • infant [´infənt] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.&a.婴(幼)儿   (初中英语单词)
  • extraordinary [ik´strɔ:dinəri] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.非常的;额外的   (初中英语单词)
  • innocent [´inəsənt] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.无罪的;单纯的   (初中英语单词)
  • origin [´ɔridʒin] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.起源;由来;出身   (初中英语单词)
  • childhood [´tʃaildhud] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.幼年(时代);早期   (初中英语单词)
  • fearful [´fiəfəl] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.可怕的;担心的   (初中英语单词)
  • constitute [´kɔnstitju:t] 移动到这儿单词发声  vt.组成;构成;指定   (初中英语单词)
  • chiefly [´tʃi:fli] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.主要地;尤其   (初中英语单词)
  • whatever [wɔt´evə] 移动到这儿单词发声  pron.&a.无论什么   (初中英语单词)
  • thereby [´ðeəbai] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.因此,由此   (初中英语单词)
  • movement [´mu:vmənt] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.活动;运动;动作   (初中英语单词)
  • pronunciation [prə,nʌnsi´eiʃən] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.发音(法)   (初中英语单词)
  • accent [´æksənt, æk´sent] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.重音;口音 vt.重读   (初中英语单词)
  • evidently [´evidəntli] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.明显地   (初中英语单词)
  • outline [´autlain] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.外形 vt.画出…轮廓   (初中英语单词)
  • scheme [ski:m] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.计划;阴谋,诡计   (初中英语单词)
  • complicated [´kɔmplikeitid] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.结构复杂的;难懂的   (初中英语单词)
  • apparent [ə´pærənt] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.显然的;表面上的   (初中英语单词)
  • beaten [´bi:tn] 移动到这儿单词发声  beat 的过去分词   (初中英语单词)
  • despite [di´spait] 移动到这儿单词发声  prep.尽管   (初中英语单词)
  • marble [´mɑ:bəl] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.大理石 a.大理石的   (初中英语单词)
  • wealth [welθ] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.财富,财产   (初中英语单词)
  • rattle [´rætl] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.嘎吱声   (初中英语单词)
  • honestly [´ɔnistli] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.诚实地,老实地   (初中英语单词)
  • curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.好奇;奇事;珍品   (初中英语单词)
  • reflection [ri´flekʃən] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.反射;映象;想法   (初中英语单词)
  • doubtless [´dautlis] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.无疑地;大概,多半   (初中英语单词)
  • incident [´insidənt] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.小事件;事变   (初中英语单词)
  • sunlight [´sʌnlait] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.日光   (初中英语单词)
  • delicate [´delikət] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.精美的;微妙的   (初中英语单词)
  • solemn [´sɔləm] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.严肃的;隆重的   (初中英语单词)
  • scarlet [´skɑ:lit] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.猩红色 a.猩红的   (初中英语单词)
  • mineral [´minərəl] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.矿物 a.矿物的   (初中英语单词)
  • perish [´periʃ] 移动到这儿单词发声  v.灭亡;消灭;(使)死去   (初中英语单词)
  • examination [ig,zæmi´neiʃən] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.检查;考试;检验   (初中英语单词)
  • whereas [weər´æz] 移动到这儿单词发声  conj.鉴于;因此;而   (初中英语单词)
  • beginning [bi´giniŋ] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.开始,开端;起源   (初中英语单词)
  • suburb [´sʌbə:b] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.郊区;附近   (高中英语单词)
  • historic [his´tɔrik] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.有历史意义的   (高中英语单词)
  • excessive [ik´sesiv] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.过分的;极端的   (高中英语单词)
  • skeleton [´skelitən] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.骨骼;骷髅   (高中英语单词)
  • crooked [´krukid] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.弯曲的;畸形的   (高中英语单词)
  • pageant [´pædʒənt] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.露天表演;虚饰   (高中英语单词)
  • bearing [´beəriŋ] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.举止;忍耐;关系   (高中英语单词)
  • lining [´lainiŋ] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.衬里;衬料   (高中英语单词)
  • innocence [´inəsəns] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.无罪;天真   (高中英语单词)
  • simplicity [sim´plisiti] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.简单;朴素   (高中英语单词)
  • invariably [in´veəriəbli] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.不变地;永恒地   (高中英语单词)
  • loyalty [´lɔiəlti] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.忠诚;忠心;忠实   (高中英语单词)
  • intellectual [,inti´lektʃuəl] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.知识分子   (高中英语单词)
  • unconscious [ʌn´kɔnʃəs] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.无意识的;不觉察的   (高中英语单词)
  • damned [dæmd] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.该死的 ad.非常,极   (高中英语单词)
  • carelessly [´kɛəlisli] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.粗心地;疏忽地   (高中英语单词)
  • majestic [mə´dʒestik] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.雄伟的;崇高的   (高中英语单词)
  • roughly [´rʌfli] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.粗糙地;毛糙地   (高中英语单词)
  • astonishing [əs´tɔniʃiŋ] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.令人惊讶的   (高中英语单词)
  • forlorn [fə´lɔ:n] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.被遗弃的;绝望的   (高中英语单词)
  • crimson [´krimzən] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.&n.深(紫)红(的)   (高中英语单词)
  • composition [,kɔmpə´ziʃən] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.写作;作曲;作品   (高中英语单词)
  • authentic [ɔ:´θentik] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.真实的;可靠的   (英语四级单词)
  • borough [´bʌrə] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.自治市   (英语四级单词)
  • vicious [´viʃəs] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.不道德的;刻毒的   (英语四级单词)
  • sublime [sə´blaim] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.崇高的,伟大的   (英语四级单词)
  • bridge [bridʒ] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.桥(梁);鼻梁;桥牌   (英语四级单词)
  • filthy [´filθi] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.污秽的,肮脏的   (英语四级单词)
  • wistful [´wistfəl] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.渴望的;不满足的   (英语四级单词)
  • permanently [´pə:mənəntli] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.永久地;持久地   (英语四级单词)
  • unconsciously [ʌn´kɔʃəsli] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.无意识地;不觉察地   (英语四级单词)
  • perpendicular [,pə:pən´dikjulə] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.垂直的 n.正交   (英语四级单词)
  • accurately [´ækjuritli] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.准确地;精密地   (英语四级单词)
  • winner [´winə] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.胜利者,得奖者   (英语四级单词)
  • plaything [´plei,θiŋ] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.玩具;玩物   (英语四级单词)
  • prodigious [prə´didʒəs] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.惊人的;巨大的   (英语四级单词)
  • winning [´winiŋ] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.&a.胜利(的)   (英语四级单词)
  • blessed [´blesid] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.享福的;神圣的   (英语四级单词)
  • contrivance [kən´traivəns] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.发明,设计(的才能)   (英语四级单词)
  • seemingly [´si:miŋli] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.表面上;似乎   (英语四级单词)
  • unaware [,ʌnə´weə] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.不知道的;不觉察的   (英语四级单词)
  • reddish [´rediʃ] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.带红色的;微红的   (英语四级单词)
  • volley [´vɔli] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.&v.齐射;(话)迸发   (英语四级单词)
  • touching [´tʌtʃiŋ] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.动人的 prep.提到   (英语四级单词)
  • precision [pri´siʒən] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.精密(度) a.精确的   (英语四级单词)
  • accomplished [ə´kʌmpliʃt] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.完成了的;熟练的   (英语四级单词)
  • broadly [´brɔ:dli] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.广,宽;明白;粗鲁   (英语六级单词)
  • landmark [´lændmɑ:k] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.界标;里程碑   (英语六级单词)
  • sticky [´stiki] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.胶粘的;顽固的   (英语六级单词)
  • insensible [in´sensəbəl] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.麻木的;冷淡的   (英语六级单词)
  • preoccupied [pri´ɔkjupaid] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.被先占的;出神的   (英语六级单词)
  • shapeless [´ʃeiplis] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.无定形的;不成样的   (英语六级单词)
  • immaculate [i´mækjulit] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.纯洁的;无瑕疵的   (英语六级单词)
  • nickname [´nikneim] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.绰号 vt.给…起绰口   (英语六级单词)
  • harrow [´hærəu] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.&v.耙(地)   (英语六级单词)
  • devilish [´devəliʃ] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.魔鬼般的,凶恶的   (英语六级单词)
  • roundabout [´raundəbaut] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.&n.间接的(方式)   (英语六级单词)
  • solemnity [sə´lemniti] 移动到这儿单词发声  n.庄严;(隆重的)仪式   (英语六级单词)
  • affected [ə´fektid] 移动到这儿单词发声  a.做作的;假装的   (英语六级单词)
  • exquisitely [´ekswizit] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.精巧地,优美地   (英语六级单词)
  • involuntarily [in´vɔləntərili] 移动到这儿单词发声  ad.不 自觉地   (英语六级单词)

  • 上传人 欢乐鱼 分享于 2017-06-26 17:11:40
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