词汇：usually
adv. 通常，经常
相关场景
- But no one heard him except the Hell Bitch, who grazed at the end of a long rope. Every night he slipped one end of the rope beneath his belt and then looped it around his wrist, so there would be no chance of her taking fright and suddenly jerking loose from him. Call had become so sensitive to her movements that if she even raised her head to sniff the air he would wake up. Usually it was no more than a deer, or a passing wolf. But the mare noticed, and Call rested better, knowing she would watch.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- CALL EXPECTED GUS to be back in a day or two. Maybe he’d have the girl and maybe he wouldn’t, but it was not likely he’d be gone long. Gus was a hard traveler and usually overtook whoever he was after promptly, arrested them or dispatched them, and got back.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “We won’t hear it much,” Roscoe said. “That campfire was way off. Anyway, maybe it’s just cowboys and there won’t be no fight.” “But we saw Indians,” Joe said. “I bet it’s them.” “It might be them,” Roscoe admitted. “But maybe they just kept running.” “I hope they didn’t run this direction,” Joe said. He hated to admit how scared he was, but he was a good deal more scared than he could remember being before in his life. Usually when they camped he was so glad to be stopped he just unrolled his blanket and went to sleep, but though he unrolled his blanket as usual, he didn’t go to sleep. It was the first time he had been separated from July on the whole trip, and he was surprised at how much scarier it felt. They had been forbidden to build a fire, so all they could do was sit in the dark. Of course it wasn’t cold, but a fire would have made things more cheerful.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- He rode east all morning, a bad feeling in his heart. He had meant to catch Blue Duck within a day, but he hadn’t. The renegade had out-traveled him. It would have been rough on Lorie, such traveling. He should have borrowed Call’s mare, but the thought hadn’t occurred to him until too late. By this time Lorie could be dead, or ruined. He had helped recover several captives from the Comanches in his rangering days, and often the recovery came too late if the captives were women. Usually their minds were gone and they were only interested in dying, which they mostly did once they got back to people who would let them die.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- there:
- Call’s abrupt decision to become a cattleman and his own decision, equally abrupt, to try and rescue a girl foolish enough to be taken in by Jake Spoon. None of it was sensible, yet he had to admit there was something about such follies that he liked. The sensible way, which he had pursued once or twice in his life, had always proved boring, usually within a few days. In his case it had led to nothing much, just excessive drunkenness and reckless card playing. There was more enterprise in certain follies, it seemed to him.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “I wish they’d stick,” he said many times. “If they would, there’d soon be enough of them to beat back the Indians.” “You ain’t never laid in bed all night with a scared woman,” Augustus said. “You can’t start a farm if you’ve got to live in afort. Them that starts the farms have got to settle off by themselves, which means they’re easy to cut off and carve up.” “Well, they could leave the women for a while,” Call said. “Send for them when it’s safe.” “Yes, but a man that goes to the trouble to take a wife don’t generally want to go off and leave her,” Augustus pointed out. “It means doing the chores all by yourself. Besides, without a wife handy you won’t be getting no kids, and kids are a wonderful source of free labor. They’re cheaper than slaves by a damn sight.” They had argued the point for years, but fruitlessly, for Call had no sympathy for human weakness. Augustus put it down to a lack of imagination. Call could never imagine what it was like to be scared. They had been in tight spots, but usually that meant action, and in battles things happened too fast for fear to paralyze the mind of a man like Call. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to go to bed every night scared that you and your family would feel the knives of the Comanches before sunrise.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Finally, by circling wide to the northwest, Augustus crossed the three horses’ tracks. Blue Duck had tried the one trick—crossing the stampede—but that was all. After that the tracks bore straight for the northwest, so unerringly that Augustus soon found he didn’t need to pay much attention to them. If he lost them he could usually pick them up within half a mile.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “I never expected to see you right then,” Roscoe said. “Then there you were, pointing that gun.” “This is the main trail to Texas from Fort Smith,” July pointed out. “If I was looking for you that’s where I’d likely be.” “Yeah, but I didn’t know you was looking for me,” Roscoe said. “You don’t usually.” “Peach wrote and told me you was on the way,” July said. It was all the explanation he planned to offer until he could get Roscoe alone.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- After a while it struck him that something was missing, and he figured out that it was Janey. Usually, once the travelers were out of sight, she reappeared. Memphis had come to trust her and would follow her like a pet goat.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Janey was shy of people. She had keen eyesight and would usually see other travelers before Roscoe did. Often when she saw one she disappeared, darting off the trail and hiding in weeds and tall grass until the stranger passed.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- To Newt’s surprise, Po Campo put a friendly hand on his shoulder. He almost flinched, for it was rare for anyone to touch him in friendship. If he got touched it was usually in a wrestling match with one of the Raineys.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Call got his rifle, out of the scabbard and cleaned it, though it was in perfect order. Sometimes the mere act of cleaning a gun, an act he had performed thousands of times, would empty his mind of jarring thoughts and memories—but this time it didn’t work. Gus had jarred him with mention of Maggie, the bitterest memory of his life. She had died in Lonesome Dove some twelve years before, but the memory had lost none of its salt and sting, for what had happened with her had been unnecessary and was now uncorrectable. He had made mistakes in battle and led men to their deaths, but his mind didn’t linger on those mistakes; at least the battles had been necessary, and the men soldiers. He could feel that he hadBut Maggie had not been a fighting man—just a needful young whore, who had for some reason fixed on him as the man who could save her from her own mistakes. Gus had known her first, and Jake, and many other men, whereas he had only visited her out of curiosity to find out what it was that he had heard men talk and scheme about for so long. It turned out not to be much, in his view—a brief, awkward experience, where the pleasure was soon drowned in embarrassment and a feeling of sadness. He ought not to have gone back twice, let alone a third time, yet something drew him back—not so much the need of his own flesh as the helplessness and need of the woman. She had such frightened eyes. He never met her in the saloon but came up the back stairs, usually after dark; she would be standing just inside the door waiting, her face anxious. Some weakness in him brought him back every few nights, for two months or more. He had never said much to her, but she said a lot to him. She had a small, quick voice, almost like a child’s. She would talk constantly, as if to cover his embarrassment at what they had met to do. Some nights he would sit for half an hour, for he came to like her talk, though he had long since forgotten what she had said. But when she talked, her face would relax for a while, her eyes lose their fright. She would clasp his hand while she talked—one night she buttoned his shirt. And when he was ready to leave—always a need to leave, to be away, would come over him—she would look at him with fright in her face again, as if she had one more thing to say but couldn’t say it.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- However, by breakfast time everyone was usually so hungry they ate whatever they could get, complaining with every bite.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Augustus usually cooked breakfast, catering to his own interest entirely and drawing many complaints because he favored scrambling eggs—a style several hands, Dish Boggett in particular, found revolting.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- He considered offering to let her ride double, but before he could mention it she ran on ahead. Not only could she walk faster than a possum could run, she could run faster than Memphis could walk. He had to put the horse into a trot to keep up with her. By the time they got to the creek, Roscoe felt lightheaded from the combination of hunger and wasp stings. His vision was swimming again, as it had when he was drunk. A wasp had got him close to one eye; soon the eye swelled shut. His head felt larger than it usually did. It was a very inconvenient life, and, as usual when traveling got bad, he felt resentful of July for having married a woman who would run off.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Well, Bol, if you change your mind, you can find us in Montana,” Augustus said. “It may be that your wife’s too rusty for you now. You may want to come back and cook up a few more goats and snakes.” “Gracias, Capitán,” Bol said, when Call handed him the reins to the gelding. Then he rode off, without another word to anybody. It didn’t surprise Augustus, since Bol had worked for them all those years without saying a word to anybody unless directly goaded into it—usually by Augustus.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- But no matter how uncomfortable the nights, the sky usually cleared in the morning. She liked to sit on the blankets and feel the sun getting warmer. She watched her arms getting slowly tanned and felt that a life of travel was what she was meant for. Her mare had gotten used to the travel too and no longer looked back toward Lonesome Dove.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Because the grave’s our destination,” Mr. Sedgwick said. “Those who hurry usually get to it quicker than those who take their time. Now, me, I travel, and when I’ll get anywhere is anybody’s guess. If you two hadn’t come along I’d have likely stood there in the river for another hour or two. The moving waters are ever a beautiful sight.” Mr. Sedgwick turned and walked down the riverbank without another word. From time to time he squatted to peer closely at the ground.“I reckon he’s spotted a bug,” Joe said.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- JOE KNEW RIGHT OFF that something was bothering July, because he didn’t want to talk. It was not that July had ever been a big talker, like Roscoe could be if he was in the mood, but he was seldom as silent as he was the first week of the trip. Usually he would talk about horses or fishing or. cowboys or the weather or something, but on the trip west it just seemed he didn’t want to talk at all.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “The thing about men that don’t talk much is that they don’t usually learn much, either,” Louisa said. She got her sunbonnet off a nail on the wall and tucked her thick brown hair under it.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “I hope there’s still some coffee in the pot,” he said, when he dismounted. “I’ve usually had ten biscuits by this time of day, not to mention some honey and a few eggs. Got any eggs, Lorie?” “No, but we got bacon,” she said. “I’ll fry you some.” Augustus looked around with amusement at the muddy camp.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- The only cowboy who had not performed up to caliber in the emergency was Sean O’Brien, who had been walking out to catch his night horse when the storm hit. He was such a poor roper that Newt usually roped his horses for him, if he happened to be around. This time, of course, he hadn’t been. The Spettles, responsible for the remuda, were afraid Sean’s awkward roping would cause the whole herd to bolt; Bill Spettle had roped a horse for him, but it wasn’t one he could ride. Sean had promptly been bucked off, and when the remuda did bolt, Sean’s horse ran with it. Sean had been forced to ride in the wagon all night, more worried for his life than his reputation. Bolivar had made it clear that he didn’t like passengers.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “If you ain’t up to getting the woman, then you better go get July,” she said. “He might want his wife back before she gets up there somewhere and gets scalped.” She then marched off, much to Roscoe’s relief. He went in and took a drink or two from a bottle of whiskey he kept under his couch and usually only used as a remedy for toothache. He was careful not to drink too much, since the last thing he needed was for the people in Fort Smith to get the notion he was a drunk. But then, the next thing he knew, despite his care, the whiskey bottle was empty, and he seemed to have drunk it, although it did not feel to him like he was drunk. In the still heat he got drowsy and went to sleep on the couch, only to awake in a sweat to find Peach and Charlie Barnes staring down at him.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- It was just the worst luck. He had worried considerably about the various bad things that might happen while July was gone, but the loss of Elmira had not been among his worries. Men’s wives didn’t usually leave on a whiskey barge. He had heard of cases in which they didn’t like wedded life and went back to their families, but Elmira hadn’t even had a family, and there was no reason for her not to like wedded life, since July had not worked her hard at all.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Joe didn’t share July’s discomfort with the fact that his mother seldom came to the table. When she did come it was usually to scold him, and he got scolded enough as it was—besides, he liked eating with July, or doing anything else with July. So far as he was concerned, marrying July was the best thing his mother had ever done. She scolded July as freely as she scolded him, which didn’t seem right to Joe. But then July accepted it and never scolded back, so perhaps that was the way of the world: women scolded, and men kept quiet and stayed out of the way as much as possible.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇