词汇：whether

conj. 是否；不论

相关场景

The thought that Gus was dead began to weigh on Call. It came to him several times a day, at moments, and made him feel empty and strange. They had not had much of a talk before Gus left. Nothing much had been said. He began to wish that somehow things could have been rounded off a little better. Of course he knew death was no respecter. People just dropped when they dropped, whether they had rounded things off or not. Still, it haunted him that Gus had just ridden off and might not ride back. He would look over the cattle herd strung out across the prairie and feel it was all worthless, and a little absurd. Some days he almost felt like turning the cattle loose and paying off the crew. He could take Pea and Deets and maybe the boy, and they would look for Gus until they found him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Augustus was undecided as to whether he would be better off by himself or with a country sheriff from Arkansas. All he knew about the sheriff was that Jake Spoon had run from him, which wasn’t much to go on. The young man had had no experience with plains fighting and perhaps not much with any fighting. There was no telling if he could even take care of himself in a scrape. If he couldn’t, he would be better left—but then, who would know until the fighting started?
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
At times she caught Dog Face looking at her in a friendly way. He was getting so he didn’t like Monkey John to hurt her or even touch her. He was cautious about what he said, for the old man would flare up in an instant, but when Monkey John bothered her, Dog Face got restless and would often take his gun and leave the camp. Monkey John didn’t care—he played with her roughly whether anyone was in camp or not.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Big Zwey had lapsed back into silence, leaving all the talking to Luke, who chattered away whether anybody listened to him or not.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Actually, he didn’t think his mother Would care one way or another whether she got a letter from July. His mother didn’t think much of July—she had told him so in no uncertain terms several times.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Somehow the daydream had become a night dream, and the night dream was ending. He woke up very frightened, though at first he didn’t know why he was frightened. He just knew that something was wrong. He still sat under the tree, the gun in his hand, only there was a sound that was wrong, a sound like drumming. For a second it confused him—then he realized what it was: the cattle were running. Instantly he was running too, running for Mouse. He wasn’t sure how close the cattle were or whether they were running in his direction, but he didn’t stop to listen. He knew he had to get to Mouse and then ride back to Lorena, to help her in case the cattle swerved her way. He began to hear men yelling to the west, obviously the boys trying to turn the cattle. Then suddenly a bunch of running cattle appeared right in front of him, fifty or sixty of them. They ran right past him and on toward the bluffs.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Call waited, anxious to know where Blue Duck had gone, or whether it had really been him. “What’s the news?” he asked.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He still worked the drags; as the grass improved the work was a little less dusty. He mainly rode along with the Rainey boys, discussing things they might see up the trail. A major topic of speculation was whether the Indians had actually been whipped or not.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Now look at that,” Augustus said. “The dern people are making towns everywhere. It’s our fault, you know.” “It ain’t our fault and it ain’t our business, either,” Call said. “People can do what they want.” “Why, naturally, since we chased out the Indians and hung all the good bandits,” Augustus said. “Does it ever occur to you that everything we done was probably a mistake? Just look at it from a nature standpoint. If you’ve got enough snakes around the place you won’t be overrun with rats or varmints. The way I see it, the Indians and the bandits have the same job to do. Leave ’em be and you won’t constantly be having to ride around these dern settlements.” “You don’t have to ride around them,” Call said. “What harm do they do?” “If I’d have wanted civilization I’d have stayed in Tennessee and wrote poetry for a living,” Augustus said. “Me and you done our work too well. We killed off most of the people that made this country interesting to begin with.”Call didn’t answer. It was one of Gus’s favorite themes, and if given a chance he would expound on it for hours. Of course it was nonsense. Nobody in their right mind would want the Indians back, or the bandits either. Whether Gus had ever been in his right mind was an open question.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Why, I guess so,” Louisa said. “I’ve put up with worse than you, and probably will again.” Roscoe rode off, though Memphis didn’t take kindly to having the tarp flopping at his flank, so he had to get down and retie the roll. When he finally got it tied and remounted to ride on, he saw that Louisa had already hitched her mules to a stump and was giving them loud encouragement as they strained at the harness. It seemed to him he had never met such a curious woman. He gave her a wave that she didn’t see, and rode on west with very mixed feelings. One moment he felt rather pleased and rode light in the saddle, but the next moment the light feeling would turn heavy. A time or two Roscoe could barely hold back the tears, he felt so sad of a sudden—and it would have been hard to say whether the sadness came because of having to leave Louisa or because of the uncertain journey that lay ahead.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Hours passed and he still couldn’t get to sleep, though he was plenty tired. It was clear that if the sleeping didn’t improve he was going to be dead on his feet long before he got back to Fort Smith. His eyelids would fall, but then he’d hear something and jerk awake, a process that went on until he was too tired to care whether he died or not. He had been propped up against the wall of the cabin, but he slowly slid down and finally slept, flat on his back.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Well, that’s all the supper,” Louisa said. “What about my proposition?” “I can’t,” Roscoe said, putting it as politely as he knew how. “If I don’t keep on till I find July I might lose my job.” Louisa looked exasperated. “You’re a fine guest,” she said. “I tell you what, let’s give it a tryout. You ain’t had enough experience of women to know whether you like the married life or not. It might suit you to a T. If it did, you wouldn’t have to do risky work like being a deputy.” It was true that being a deputy had become almost intolerably risky—Roscoe had to grant that. But judging from July’s experience, marriage had its risks too.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“It’s just the first of many,” Bert said. “How many rivers is it between here and the Yellowstone?” The question set everyone to counting and arguing, for as soon as they decided they had an accurate count, someonewould think of another stream, and there would be a discussion as to whether it should count as a river.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Wipe your lip, July,” she said. “I wish you’d ever learn, or else stop drinking that buttermilk.” Embarrassed, he wiped it. When Elmira was annoyed she made him so nervous that he couldn’t really remember whether he had eaten, or what.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
July knew the statement was absurd. Roscoe was only a deputy because he was lazy. But if there was one thing he didn’t want to get into, it was an argument over whether Roscoe was lazy, so he gave him a wave and walked on off.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It seemed he was faced every single day with decisions that were hard to make. Sometimes, sitting at his own table, it was hard to decide whether to talk to Elmira or not. It was not hard to tell when Elmira was displeased, though. Her mouth got tight and she could look right through him and give no indication that she even saw him. The problem was trying to figure out what she was displeased about. Several times he had tried asking if anything was wrong and had been given bitter, vehement lectures on his shortcomings. The lectures were embarrassing because they were delivered in the presence of Elmira’s son, now his stepson, a twelve-year-old named Joe Boot. Elmira had been married in Missouri to a fellow named Dee Boot, about whom she had never talked much—she just said he died of smallpox.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“You’ll have to pardon the grub,” Augustus said. “Bol has learned to season but he forgot to learn to cook.” Bolivar was resting comfortably against a wagon wheel and ignored the sally. He was wavering in his mind whether to stay or go. He did not like travel—the thought of it made him unhappy. And yet, when he went home to Mexico he felt unhappy too, for his wife was disappointed in him and let him know it every day. He had never been sure what she wanted—after all, their children were beautiful—but whatever it was, he had not been able to give it to her. His daughters were his delight, but they would soon all marry and be gone, leaving him no protection from his wife. Probably he would shoot his wife if he went home. He had shot an irritating horse, right out from under himself. A man’s patience sometimes simply snapped. He had shot the horse right between the ears and then found it difficult to get the saddle off,once the horse fell. Probably he would shoot his wife in the same way, if he went home. Many times he had been tempted to shoot one or another of the members of the Hat Creek outfit, but of course if he did that he would be immediately shot in return. Every day he thought he might go home, but he didn’t. It was easier to stay and cut up a few snakes into the cook pot than to listen to his wife complain.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The realization didn’t disturb her calm, though. It meant he needed her more than he would admit; she recognized the need and didn’t care whether he admitted it or not. If Jake had been as firm as he pretended to be, it would have left her with little security. He could have just walked off.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Jasper Fant fared no better, whether from love of Lorie or lack of skill, Dish didn’t know. Didn’t know, and didn’t care. All he was conscious of was that somehow he would have to outlast Jake, for there could be no woman for him except the one across the table. The very friendliness with which she treated him stung like a scorpion bite, for there was nothing special in it. She was almost as friendly to Lippy, a pure fool, and with a hole in his stomach to boot.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“There’s Dish,” Lorena said, when he came in the door. “Now we can have a game.” Lippy, as usual, was kibbitzing, putting in his two cents’ worth whether they were wanted or not.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Newt looked back over his shoulder and saw red in the east. It was just a line of red, like somebody had drawn it with a crayon, over the thick black line of the land, but it meant that the night was ending. He didn’t know where they were, but they still had a lot of horses. The horses were well spread by then, and he eased out of the herd. Despite the red in the east, the land seemed darker than it had all night; he could see nothing and just exerted himself to keep up, hoping they were going in the right direction. It felt a little odd to be alive and unharmed after such a deep scare, and Newt kept looking east, wishing the light would hurry so he could see around him and know whether it was safe to relax. For all he knew, Mexicans with Winchesters could be a hundred yards behind him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
BY THE MIDDLE of the afternoon it was so hot nobody could think. At least Newt couldn’t, and the other hands didn’t seem to be thinking very fast either. All they could find to argue about was whether it was hotter down in the well digging or up in the sun working the windlass. Down in the well they all worked so close together and sweated so much that it practically made a fog, while up in the sun fog was no problem. Being down in the well made Newt nervous, particularly if Pea was with him, because when Pea got to working the crowbar he didn’t always look where he was jabbing and once had almost jabbed it through Newt’s foot. From then on Newt worked spraddle-legged, so as to keep his feet out of the way.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“If you’re riding north with old Shang we may never meet again this side of the bourn,” Augustus said, deliberately adopting the elegiac tone. “At the very least you’ll get your hearing ruint. That voice of his could deafen a rock.” Dish had to smile. Gus seemed unaware that one of the more persistent topics of dispute on the Texas range was whether his voice was louder than Shanghai Pierce’s. It was commonly agreed that the two men had no close rivals when it came to being deafening.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Since he just sat there twirling his spur and smiling at her, Lorena didn’t know whether to get undressed or what. It was July, blistering hot. She had tried sprinkling the bedsheets, but the heat dried them sometimes before she could even lay down.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
In that respect, Gus was unusual, for most men didn’t talk. He would blab right up until he shoved his old carrot in, and then would be blabbing again, before it was even dry. Generous as he was by local standards—he gave her five dollars in gold every single time—Lorena still felt a little underpaid. It should have been five dollars for wetting his carrot and another five dollars for listening to all the blab. Some of it was interesting, but Lorena couldn’t keep her mind on so much talk. It didn’t seem to hurt Gus’s feelings any. He talked just as cheerful whether she was listening or not, and he never tried to talk her into giving him two pokes for the price of one, as most of the younger men did.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇