词汇：perhaps
adv. 也许；可能
相关场景
- From being red, he had gone to pale, and he was a small baby, not five pounds, she guessed. She herself was very tired, and as the evening drew on and the sun fell she found herself in a very uneven temper—scolding the girls harshly for their loudness one minute, going out on her porch with the baby, almost in tears herself, another. Perhaps it’s best that it dies, she doesn’t want it, she thought, and then the next moment the baby’s eyes would open for a second and her heart would fill. Then she would reproach herself for her own callousness.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Clara looked at Elmira for a moment and held her peace. It was not a great surprise for her that the woman didn’t want the baby. She hadn’t wanted Sally, out of fear that she would die. The woman must have her own fears—after all, she had traveled for months across the plains with two buffalo hunters. Perhaps she was fleeing a man, perhaps looking for a man, perhaps just running—there was no point in pressing questions, for the woman might not know herself why she ran.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Well then, save it, at least,” Clara said, feeling so downcast suddenly that she left the room. She got a water bucket and walked out of the house, meaning to get some water for Bob. It was a beautiful morning, light touching the farthest edges of the plains. Clara noticed the beauty and thought it strange that she could still respond to it, tired as she was and with two people dying in her house—perhaps three. But she loved the fine light of the prairie mornings; it had resurrected her spirits time after time though the years, when it seemed that dirt and cold and death would crush her. Just to see the light spreading like that, far on toward Wyoming, was her joy. It seemed to put energy into her, make her want to do things.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Bad men would have a better team,” Clara said. “Find any colts?” Cholo shook his head. His hair was white—Clara had never been able to get his age out of him, but she imagined he was seventy-five at least, perhaps eighty. At night by the fire, with the work done, Cholo wove horsehair lariats. Clara loved to watch the way his fingers worked. When a horse died or had to be killed, Cholo always saved its mane and tail for his ropes. He could weave them of rawhide too, and once had made one for her of buckskin, although she didn’t rope. Bob had been puzzled by the gift—“Clara couldn’t rope a post,” he said—but Clara was not puzzled at all. She had been very pleased. It was a beautiful gift; Cholo had the finest manners. She knew he appreciated her as she appreciated him. That was the year she bought him the coat. Sometimes, reading her magazines, she would look up and see Cholo weaving a rope and imagine that if she ever did try to write a story she would write it about him. It would be very different from any of the stories she read in the English magazines.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Oh, shush,” Clara said. “The sun’s just been up five minutes.” She reflected that perhaps that was what she had held back—she had never become proficient at early rising, despite all the practice she’d had. She had got up dutifully and made breakfast for Bob and whatever hands happened to be there, but she was not at her best, and the breakfasts seldom arrived on the table in the orderly fashion that Bob expected. It was a relief to her when he went away on horse-trading expeditions and she could sleep late, or just lie in bed thinking and reading the magazines she ordered from the East or from England.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- With her, it was different. He had never raised a hand to her, though she provoked him often, and deeply. Perhaps it was because he had never quite believed that she would marry him, or never quite understood why she had. The shadow of Augustus McCrae had hung over their courtship; Bob had never known why she chose him over the famous Ranger, or over any of the other men she could have had. In her day she had been the most sought-after girl in Texas, and yet she had married him, and followed him to the Nebraska plains, and stayed and worked beside him. It was hard country for women, Bob knew that. Women died, went crazy or left. The wife of their nearest neighbor, Maude Jones, had killed herself with a shotgun one morning, leaving a note which merely said, “Can’t stand listening to this wind no more.” Maude had had a husband and four children, but had killed herself anyway. For a time, Clara had taken in the children, until their grandparents in Missouri came for them. Len Jones, Maude’s husband, soon drank himself into poverty. He fell out of his wagon drunk one night and froze to death not two hundred yards from a saloon.
和她在一起，情况就不同了。他从未向她举手，尽管她经常深深地激怒他。也许是因为他从来没有完全相信她会嫁给他，或者从来没有完全理解她为什么会嫁给他。奥古斯特·麦克雷的影子笼罩着他们的求爱；鲍勃从来不知道她为什么选择他而不是著名的游侠，或者她本可以拥有的任何其他男人。在她那个时代，她是得克萨斯州最受欢迎的女孩，但她嫁给了他，跟着他去了内布拉斯加州平原，在他身边呆着工作。鲍勃知道，这对女人来说是个艰难的国家。女人死了，疯了，或者离开了。一天早上，他们最近的邻居莫德·琼斯的妻子用霰弹枪自杀，留下一张纸条，上面只写着：“再也受不了这风了。”莫德有一个丈夫和四个孩子，但还是自杀了。有一段时间，克拉拉收留了孩子们，直到他们在密苏里州的祖父母来接他们。莫德的丈夫伦琼斯很快就喝得酩酊大醉，陷入了贫困。一天晚上，他醉醺醺地从马车上掉下来，在离酒馆不到两百码的地方冻死了。>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇- “No, mostly girls here tonight,” Dan said. “Are you waiting for election day or what? Bring the goddamn horses.” Little Eddie brought them. The dawn was behind him, very faint but coming. Soon it was possible to make out the results of the battle. Wilbarger’s two men were dead, still in their blankets. One was Chick, the little weasel Jake remembered seeing the morning they brought the horses in from Mexico. He had been hit in the neck by a rifle bullet, Frog Lip’s, Dan said. The bullet had practically torn his head loose from his body—the corpse reminded Jake of a dead rabbit, perhaps because Chick had rabbitlike teeth, exposed now in a stiff grimace.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “I bet Newt got a good look,” Soupy said. “Newt’s getting to an age to have an eye for the damsels.” Newt kept silent, embarrassed. He would have liked to brag a little about his visit, perhaps even repeat one of the remarks Lorena had made, but he was aware that he couldn’t do so without causing Dish Boggett to feel bad that it wasn’t him who had got the visit.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- At close range she looked younger, perhaps only fifteen or sixteen. Probably she had scarcely even had beaux, or if she had, they would only have been farm boys with no knowledge of the world. She had a curling upper lip, which he liked—it indicated she had some spirit. If she had been a whore, he would have contracted with her for a week, just on the strength of that lip and the curve of her bosom. But she was just a barefoot girl sitting on a wagon, with dust on her bare feet.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- July wondered if perhaps the sleep of death would be as good, as comforting and warming, as his boyhood slumber. He had a rifle and a pistol—one pull of the trigger would bring him all the sleep he wanted. In his five years as a lawman he had never shot anyone, though he had a reputation as a dangerous fighter. It would be a joke on everyone if the only person he ever killed was himself. He had always assumed that people who killed themselves were cowards. His own uncle had done it in a painful way, by drinking lye.. His uncle had been deep in debt.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Dish, especially, could not keep his eyes off the little tent. He longed for a glimpse of her and kept imagining that any minute she would step out of the tent and look his way. Surely she remembered him; perhaps she would even wave, and call him over.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- When dawn did come, it was a low and gloomy one, the sky heavily overcast. Newt, with Dish, the Irishman and Needle Nelson, was with a large portion of the herd, perhaps a thousand cattle. No one was quite sure where the rest of the herd was. The cattle were too tired to be troublesome, so Dish loped off to look and was gone what seemed like half a day.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- When dawn did come, it was a low and gloomy one, the sky heavily overcast. Newt, with Dish, the Irishman and Needle Nelson, was with a large portion of the herd, perhaps a thousand cattle. No one was quite sure where the rest of the herd was. The cattle were too tired to be troublesome, so Dish loped off to look and was gone what seemed like half a day.>> 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
- “Now that’s a new trick,” Augustus said. “Spitting on ants. I guess that’s all you’ve got to do besides haul bones.” Aus Frank resumed his walk, and Augustus followed along, amused at the strange turns life took. Soon they came down into the valley of the Canadian. Augustus was amazed to see an enormous pyramid of buffalo bones perhaps fifty yards from the water. The bones were piled so high, it seemed to him Aus Frank must have a ladder to use in his piling, though he saw no sign of one. Down the river a quarter of a mile there was another pyramid, just as large.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Fowler said there might be a party of hunters going north, and that perhaps they would take her, but a week passed and the party didn’t materialize. Then one day Fowler brought her a little plate of food, under her shed. He looked at her sheepishly, as if he had something to say but didn’t want to say it.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Nobody saw July come. Hutto was reaching in his pocket for shells and Jim was trying to fish those he had dropped out of the mud. Roscoe was watching Jim, whom he liked least. He was hoping to see a big rock hit Jim right between the eyes, perhaps cracking his skull. It wouldn’t stop Hutto from killing him, but it would be some consolation if Jim got his skull cracked first.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Dear Ellie—We have come a good peace and have been lucky with the weather, it has been clear.No sign of Jake Spoon yet but we did cross the Red River and are in Texas, Joe likes it. His horse has been behaving all right and neither of us has been sick.I hope that you are well and have not been bothered too much by the skeeters.Your loving husband,July He studied over the letter for days and wanted to put in that he missed her or perhaps refer to her as his darling, but he decided it was too risky—Elmira sometimes took offense at such remarks. Also he was bothered by spelling and didn’t know if he had done a good job with it. Several of the words didn’t look right to him, but he had no way of checking except to ask Joe, and Joe had only had a year or two of schooling so far. He was particularly worried about the word “skeeters,” and scratched it in the dirt one night while they were camped, to ask Joe’s opinion.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- At times, waiting, she had almost decided just to take the horse and the mule and try to find her way back to Lonesome Dove. Xavier had said he would marry her and take her anywhere she wanted to go. She remembered the day he had come into the room—his wild eyes, his threat to kill Jake. When she had nothing to do but sit around and think about it, her capacity for mistakes discouraged her so that she considered drowning herself in the little pool. But it was a sunny, pretty morning, and when she went into the pool a little later, it was only to wash her hair in the cool water. For a moment she put her head under and opened her eyes, but it felt silly—to die in such an element was only ridiculous. She began to wonder if perhaps she was touched—if that was why she made mistakes. Her mother had been touched. She often babbled of people no one knew. She talked to dead relatives, dead babies, speaking to them as if they were still alive. Lorena wondered if it was mistakes that had made her mother do that. Perhaps, after so many mistakes, your mind finally broke loose and wandered back and forth between past and present.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “I just remembered something,” Augustus said.He loped off without another word. Call turned the Hell Bitch and followed. He thought perhaps Gus was thirsty—they weren’t far from a little creek that fed into the Guadalupe.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- When he approached, he saw an old man with a tobacco-stained beard sitting on a stump skinning a small animal—a possum, as it turned out. Roscoe felt encouraged. The old man was the first person he had seen in Texas, and perhaps would be a source of accurate information about the road.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Riding away, Bolivar too felt very sad. Now that he was going, he was not sure why he had decided to go. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want to face embarrassment. After all, he had fired the shot that caused the mules to run. Also, he didn’t want to get so far north that he couldn’t find his way back to the river. As he rode away he decided he had made another stupid choice. So far, in his opinion, almost every decision of his life had been stupid. He didn’t miss his wife that much—they had lost the habit of one another and might not be able to reacquire it. He felt a little bitter as he rode away.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- The fall convinced him he had lived long enough with Americans. They were not his compañeros. Most of his compañeros were dead, but his country wasn’t dead, and in his village there were a few men who liked to talk about the old days when they had spent all their time stealing Texas cattle. In those years his wife had not been so angry. As he walked toward the busted wagon and the little group of men, he decided to go back. He was tired of seeing his family only in dreams. Perhaps this time when he walked in, his wife would be glad to see him.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Perhaps,” Mr. Sedgwick said. “I see you’re in a hurry to get someplace. It’s a great mistake to hurry.” “Why?” Joe asked, puzzled by almost everything the traveler said.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “This boy looks a little peaked,” Mr. Sedgwick said. “You can leave him with me, if you like. I’ll bring him along slow, fatten him up and teach him about the insect kingdom as we travel. I doubt he’s had much chance to get an education.” July was half tempted. The stranger seemed kindly. On the other hand he wore a sidearm under his coat, so perhaps he wasn’t as kindly as he looked.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇