"．．． She was married to an officer in India， long ago India; and she had a life of physic cala dventure（ 冒险） as exciting as her poetry． Her husband could cross rivers using crocodiles（鳄鱼）as stepping stones． He died when she was only 39． Unwilling to exist without him， she took her life，leaving a son in England． "
I stared at the paper，21reading，couldn"t help thinking．
Crocodiles are lazy animals as a rule， but they can move like lightening when they want to． And they don" t mind hurrying22they" re hungry． There used to be lots in Indian rivers， living onfish mostly; but what" s a little fish for a fifteen-foot crocodile? They ate people， fisherman or anyoneelse delicious enough to get too near; women doing the23， or children playing at the water" s24 ． A hungry crocodile" s mouth 25 over a meal with a sound like a gunshot． A big fellowcan26in a man in two bites（咬）．
That woman" s husband crossed rivers27from one crocodile" s back to the next． ! believeit． It had to be done quickly before the creature could see what was happening． It wasn" t28abrave， active man; and no doubt he improved with practice． He could never look 29 whilecrossing．
The wife used to watch him——I felt sure of that． She lived30the adventure， the 31excitement of it all． Their real life was with tigers，snakes．．．It"s no wonder she wrote32poetry．~
Then he died． I imagined how she felt． Was there another man33him in India， in theworld? She was still young，hardly a sitting-room widow（寡妇）．"I must34，too． " she said toherself． So she did what she felt she had to do． A35probably，to her head．
But her young son， their son? Was her love for him nothing compared to her husband? Well，
我
