Turning me around by one arm, he moved a broad flat hand along the frontvista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden--请教这句如何理解？ 特别是后半句，谢谢！
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His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the impression of fractiousness he conveyed. There was a touch of paternal
contempt in it, even toward people he liked — and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts.
“Now, don’t think my opinion on these matters is final,” he seemed to say, “just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.” We were in the same senior society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own.
We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch.
“I’ve got a nice place here,” he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly.
Turning me around by one arm, he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep, pungent roses, and a snub-nosed motor-boat that bumped the tide offshore.
“It belonged to Demaine, the oil man.” He turned me around again, politely and abruptly. “We’ll go inside.”
