The process of inquiry13 had already begun for him, in spite of his having as yet spoken to none of his fellow-passengers; the case being that Vogelstein inquired not only with his tongue, but with his eyes—that is with his spectacles—with his ears, with his nose, with his palate, with all his senses and organs. He was a highly upright young man, whose only fault was that his sense of comedy, or of the humour of things, had never been specifically disengaged from his several other senses. He vaguely felt that something should be done about this, and in a general manner proposed to do it, for he was on his way to explore a society abounding15 in comic aspects. This consciousness of a missing measure gave him a certain mistrust of what might be said of him; and if circumspection16 is the essence of diplomacy17 our young aspirant18 promised well. His mind contained several millions of facts, packed too closely together for the light breeze of the imagination to draw through the mass. He was impatient to report himself to his superior in Washington, and the loss of time in an English port could only incommode him, inasmuch as the study of English institutions was no part of his mission. On the other hand the day was charming; the blue sea, in Southampton Water, pricked19 all over with light, had no movement but that of its infinite shimmer20. Moreover he was by no means sure that he should be happy in the United States, where doubtless he should find himself soon enough disembarked. He knew that this was not an important question and that happiness was an unscientific term, such as a man of his education should be ashamed to use even in the silence of his thoughts. Lost none the less in the inconsiderate crowd and feeling himself neither in his own country nor in that to which he was in a manner accredited22, he was reduced to his mere23 personality; so that during the hour, to save his importance, he cultivated such ground as lay in sight for a judgement of this delay to which the German steamer was subjected in English waters. Mightn’t it be proved, facts, figures and documents—or at least watch—in hand, considerably24 greater than the occasion demanded?
Count Vogelstein was still young enough in diplomacy to think it necessary to have opinions. He had a good many indeed which had been formed without difficulty; they had been received ready-made from a line of ancestors who knew what they liked. This was of course—and under pressure, being candid25, he would have admitted it —an unscientific way of furnishing one’s mind. Our young man was a stiff conservative, a Junker of Junkers; he thought modern democracy a temporary phase and expected to find many arguments against it in the great Republic. In regard to these things it was a pleasure to him to feel that, with his complete training, he had been taught thoroughly26 to appreciate the nature of evidence. The ship was heavily laden27 with German emigrants28, whose mission in the United States differed considerably from Count Otto’s. They hung over the bulwarks, densely29 grouped; they leaned forward on their elbows for hours, their shoulders kept on a level with their ears; the men in furred caps, smoking long-bowled pipes, the women with babies hidden in remarkably31 ugly shawls. Some were yellow Germans and some were black, and all looked greasy32 and matted with the sea-damp. They were destined33 to swell34 still further the huge current of the Western democracy; and Count Vogelstein doubtless said to himself that they wouldn’t improve its quality. Their numbers, however, were striking, and I know not what he thought of the nature of this particular evidence.
The passengers who came on board at Southampton were not of the greasy class; they were for the most part American families who had been spending the summer, or a longer period, in Europe. They had a great deal of luggage, innumerable bags and rugs and hampers35 and sea-chairs, and were composed largely of ladies of various ages, a little pale with anticipation36, wrapped also in striped shawls, though in prettier ones than the nursing mothers of the steerage, and crowned with very high hats and feathers. They darted38 to and fro across the gangway, looking for each other and for their scattered39 parcels; they separated and reunited, they exclaimed and declared, they eyed with dismay the occupants of the forward quarter, who seemed numerous enough to sink the vessel40, and their voices sounded faint and far as they rose to Vogelstein’s ear over the latter’s great tarred sides. He noticed that in the new contingent41 there were many young girls, and he remembered what a lady in Dresden had once said to him—that America was the country of the Madchen. He wondered whether he should like that, and reflected that it would be an aspect to study, like everything else. He had known in Dresden an American family in which there were three daughters who used to skate with the officers, and some of the ladies now coming on board struck him as of that same habit, except that in the Dresden days feathers weren’t worn quite so high.
At last the ship began to creak and slowly bridge, and the delay at Southampton came to an end. The gangway was removed and the vessel indulged in the awkward evolutions that were to detach her from the land. Count Vogelstein had finished his cigar, and he spent a long time in walking up and down the upper deck. The charming English coast passed before him, and he felt this to be the last of the old world. The American coast also might be pretty—he hardly knew what one would expect of an American coast; but he was sure it would be different. Differences, however, were notoriously half the charm of travel, and perhaps even most when they couldn’t be expressed in figures, numbers, diagrams or the other merely useful symbols. As yet indeed there were very few among the objects presented to sight on the steamer. Most of his fellow-passengers appeared of one and the same persuasion42, and that persuasion the least to be mistaken. They were Jews and commercial to a man. And by this time they had lighted their cigars and put on all manner of seafaring caps, some of them with big ear-lappets which somehow had the effect of bringing out their peculiar43 facial type. At last the new voyagers began to emerge from below and to look about them, vaguely, with that suspicious expression of face always to be noted44 in the newly embarked21 and which, as directed to the receding45 land, resembles that of a person who begins to perceive himself the victim of a trick. Earth and ocean, in such glances, are made the subject of a sweeping46 objection, and many travellers, in the general plight47, have an air at once duped and superior, which seems to say that they could easily go ashore48 if they would.
It still wanted two hours of dinner, and by the time Vogelstein’s long legs had measured three or four miles on the deck he was ready to settle himself in his sea-chair and draw from his pocket a Tauchnitz novel by an American author whose pages, he had been assured, would help to prepare him for some of the oddities. On the back of his chair his name was painted in rather large letters, this being a precaution taken at the recommendation of a friend who had told him that on the American steamers the passengers—especially the ladies—thought nothing of pilfering49 one’s little comforts. His friend had even hinted at the correct reproduction of his coronet. This marked man of the world had added that the Americans are greatly impressed by a coronet. I know not whether it was scepticism or modesty50, but Count Vogelstein had omitted every pictured plea for his rank; there were others of which he might have made use. The precious piece of furniture which on the Atlantic voyage is trusted never to flinch51 among universal concussions52 was emblazoned simply with his title and name. It happened, however, that the blazonry was huge; the back of the chair was covered with enormous German characters. This time there can be no doubt: it was modesty that caused the secretary of legation, in placing himself, to turn this portion of his seat outward, away from the eyes of his companions—to present it to the balustrade of the deck. The ship was passing the Needles—the beautiful uttermost point of the Isle53 of Wight. Certain tall white cones54 of rock rose out of the purple sea; they flushed in the afternoon light and their vague rosiness55 gave them a human expression in face of the cold expanse toward which the prow56 was turned; they seemed to say farewell, to be the last note of a peopled world. Vogelstein saw them very comfortably from his place and after a while turned his eyes to the other quarter, where the elements of air and water managed to make between them so comparatively poor an opposition57. Even his American novelist was more amusing than that, and he prepared to return to this author. In the great curve which it described, however, his glance was arrested by the figure of a young lady who had just ascended59 to the deck and who paused at the mouth of the companionway.
This was not in itself an extraordinary phenomenon; but what attracted Vogelstein’s attention was the fact that the young person appeared to have fixed60 her eyes on him. She was slim, brightly dressed, rather pretty; Vogelstein remembered in a moment that he had noticed her among the people on the wharf61 at Southampton. She was soon aware he had observed her; whereupon she began to move along the deck with a step that seemed to indicate a purpose of approaching him. Vogelstein had time to wonder whether she could be one of the girls he had known at Dresden; but he presently reflected that they would now be much older than that. It was true they were apt to advance, like this one, straight upon their victim. Yet the present specimen62 was no longer looking at him, and though she passed near him it was now tolerably clear she had come above but to take a general survey. She was a quick handsome competent girl, and she simply wanted to see what one could think of the ship, of the weather, of the appearance of England, from such a position as that; possibly even of one’s fellow-passengers. She satisfied herself promptly63 on these points, and then she looked about, while she walked, as if in keen search of a missing object; so that Vogelstein finally arrived at a conviction of her real motive64. She passed near him again and this time almost stopped, her eyes bent65 upon him attentively66. He thought her conduct remarkable67 even after he had gathered that it was not at his face, with its yellow moustache, she was looking, but at the chair on which he was seated. Then those words of his friend came back to him—the speech about the tendency of the people, especially of the ladies, on the American steamers to take to themselves one’s little belongings68. Especially the ladies, he might well say; for here was one who apparently69 wished to pull from under him the very chair he was sitting on. He was afraid she would ask him for it, so he pretended to read, systematically70 avoiding her eye. He was conscious she hovered71 near him, and was moreover curious to see what she would do. It seemed to him strange that such a nice-looking girl—for her appearance was really charming—should endeavour by arts so flagrant to work upon the quiet dignity of a secretary of legation. At last it stood out that she was trying to look round a corner, as it were—trying to see what was written on the back of his chair. “She wants to find out my name; she wants to see who I am!” This reflexion passed through his mind and caused him to raise his eyes. They rested on her own— which for an appreciable72 moment she didn’t withdraw. The latter were brilliant and expressive73, and surmounted74 a delicate aquiline75 nose, which, though pretty, was perhaps just a trifle too hawk-like. It was the oddest coincidence in the world; the story Vogelstein had taken up treated of a flighty forward little American girl who plants herself in front of a young man in the garden of an hotel. Wasn’t the conduct of this young lady a testimony76 to the truthfulness77 of the tale, and wasn’t Vogelstein himself in the position of the young man in the garden? That young man—though with more, in such connexions in general, to go upon—ended by addressing himself to his aggressor, as she might be called, and after a very short hesitation78 Vogelstein followed his example. “If she wants to know who I am she’s welcome,” he said to himself; and he got out of the chair, seized it by the back and, turning it round, exhibited the superscription to the girl. She coloured slightly, but smiled and read his name, while Vogelstein raised his hat.
“I’m much obliged to you. That’s all right,” she remarked as if the discovery had made her very happy.
It affected79 him indeed as all right that he should be Count Otto Vogelstein; this appeared even rather a flippant mode of disposing of the fact. By way of rejoinder he asked her if she desired of him the surrender of his seat.
“I’m much obliged to you; of course not. I thought you had one of our chairs, and I didn’t like to ask you. It looks exactly like one of ours; not so much now as when you sit in it. Please sit down again. I don’t want to trouble you. We’ve lost one of ours, and I’ve been looking for it everywhere. They look so much alike; you can’t tell till you see the back. Of course I see there will be no mistake about yours,” the young lady went on with a smile of which the serenity80 matched her other abundance. “But we’ve got such a small name—you can scarcely see it,” she added with the same friendly intention. “Our name’s just Day—you mightn’t think it WAS a name, might you? if we didn’t make the most of it. If you see that on anything, I’d be so obliged if you’d tell me. It isn’t for myself, it’s for my mother; she’s so dependent on her chair, and that one I’m looking for pulls out so beautifully. Now that you sit down again and hide the lower part it does look just like ours. Well, it must be somewhere. You must excuse me; I wouldn’t disturb you.”
This was a long and even confidential82 speech for a young woman, presumably unmarried, to make to a perfect stranger; but Miss Day acquitted83 herself of it with perfect simplicity84 and self-possession. She held up her head and stepped away, and Vogelstein could see that the foot she pressed upon the clean smooth deck was slender and shapely. He watched her disappear through the trap by which she had ascended, and he felt more than ever like the young man in his American tale. The girl in the present case was older and not so pretty, as he could easily judge, for the image of her smiling eyes and speaking lips still hovered before him. He went back to his book with the feeling that it would give him some information about her. This was rather illogical, but it indicated a certain amount of curiosity on the part of Count Vogelstein. The girl in the book had a mother, it appeared, and so had this young lady; the former had also a brother, and he now remembered that he had noticed a young man on the wharf—a young man in a high hat and a white overcoat—who seemed united to Miss Day by this natural tie. And there was some one else too, as he gradually recollected85, an older man, also in a high hat, but in a black overcoat—in black altogether—who completed the group and who was presumably the head of the family. These reflexions would indicate that Count Vogelstein read his volume of Tauchnitz rather interruptedly. Moreover they represented but the loosest economy of consciousness; for wasn’t he to be afloat in an oblong box for ten days with such people, and could it be doubted he should see at least enough of them?
It may as well be written without delay that he saw a great deal of them. I have sketched86 in some detail the conditions in which he made the acquaintance of Miss Day, because the event had a certain importance for this fair square Teuton; but I must pass briefly87 over the incidents that immediately followed it. He wondered what it was open to him, after such an introduction, to do in relation to her, and he determined88 he would push through his American tale and discover what the hero did. But he satisfied himself in a very short time that Miss Day had nothing in common with the heroine of that work save certain signs of habitat and climate—and save, further, the fact that the male sex wasn’t terrible to her. The local stamp sharply, as he gathered, impressed upon her he estimated indeed rather in a borrowed than in a natural light, for if she was native to a small town in the interior of the American continent one of their fellow-passengers, a lady from New York with whom he had a good deal of conversation, pronounced her “atrociously” provincial89. How the lady arrived at this certitude didn’t appear, for Vogelstein observed that she held no communication with the girl. It was true she gave it the support of her laying down that certain Americans could tell immediately who other Americans were, leaving him to judge whether or no she herself belonged to the critical or only to the criticised half of the nation. Mrs. Dangerfield was a handsome confidential insinuating90 woman, with whom Vogelstein felt his talk take a very wide range indeed. She convinced him rather effectually that even in a great democracy there are human differences, and that American life was full of social distinctions, of delicate shades, which foreigners often lack the intelligence to perceive. Did he suppose every one knew every one else in the biggest country in the world, and that one wasn’t as free to choose one’s company there as in the most monarchical91 and most exclusive societies? She laughed such delusions92 to scorn as Vogelstein tucked her beautiful furred coverlet—they reclined together a great deal in their elongated93 chairs—well over her feet. How free an American lady was to choose her company she abundantly proved by not knowing any one on the steamer but Count Otto.
He could see for himself that Mr. and Mrs. Day had not at all her grand air. They were fat plain serious people who sat side by side on the deck for hours and looked straight before them. Mrs. Day had a white face, large cheeks and small eyes: her forehead was surrounded with a multitude of little tight black curls; her lips moved as if she had always a lozenge in her mouth. She wore entwined about her head an article which Mrs. Dangerfield spoke14 of as a “nuby,” a knitted pink scarf concealing94 her hair, encircling her neck and having among its convolutions a hole for her perfectly95 expressionless face. Her hands were folded on her stomach, and in her still, swathed figure her little bead-like eyes, which occasionally changed their direction, alone represented life. Her husband had a stiff grey beard on his chin and a bare spacious96 upper lip, to which constant shaving had imparted a hard glaze97. His eyebrows98 were thick and his nostrils99 wide, and when he was uncovered, in the saloon, it was visible that his grizzled hair was dense30 and perpendicular100. He might have looked rather grim and truculent101 hadn’t it been for the mild familiar accommodating gaze with which his large light-coloured pupils—the leisurely102 eyes of a silent man—appeared to consider surrounding objects. He was evidently more friendly than fierce, but he was more diffident than friendly. He liked to have you in sight, but wouldn’t have pretended to understand you much or to classify you, and would have been sorry it should put you under an obligation. He and his wife spoke sometimes, but seldom talked, and there was something vague and patient in them, as if they had become victims of a wrought103 spell. The spell however was of no sinister104 cast; it was the fascination105 of prosperity, the confidence of security, which sometimes makes people arrogant106, but which had had such a different effect on this simple satisfied pair, in whom further development of every kind appeared to have been happily arrested.
Mrs. Dangerfield made it known to Count Otto that every morning after breakfast, the hour at which he wrote his journal in his cabin, the old couple were guided upstairs and installed in their customary corner by Pandora. This she had learned to be the name of their elder daughter, and she was immensely amused by her discovery. “Pandora”—that was in the highest degree typical; it placed them in the social scale if other evidence had been wanting; you could tell that a girl was from the interior, the mysterious interior about which Vogelstein’s imagination was now quite excited, when she had such a name as that. This young lady managed the whole family, even a little the small beflounced sister, who, with bold pretty innocent eyes, a torrent107 of fair silky hair, a crimson108 fez, such as is worn by male Turks, very much askew109 on top of it, and a way of galloping110 and straddling about the ship in any company she could pick up—she had long thin legs, very short skirts and stockings of every tint— was going home, in elegant French clothes, to resume an interrupted education. Pandora overlooked and directed her relatives; Vogelstein could see this for himself, could see she was very active and decided111, that she had in a high degree the sentiment of responsibility, settling on the spot most of the questions that could come up for a family from the interior.
The voyage was remarkably fine, and day after day it was possible to sit there under the salt sky and feel one’s self rounding the great curves of the globe. The long deck made a white spot in the sharp black circle of the ocean and in the intense sea-light, while the shadow of the smoke-streamers trembled on the familiar floor, the shoes of fellow-passengers, distinctive112 now, and in some cases irritating, passed and repassed, accompanied, in the air so tremendously “open,” that rendered all voices weak and most remarks rather flat, by fragments of opinion on the run of the ship. Vogelstein by this time had finished his little American story and now definitely judged that Pandora Day was not at all like the heroine. She was of quite another type; much more serious and strenuous113, and not at all keen, as he had supposed, about making the acquaintance of gentlemen. Her speaking to him that first afternoon had been, he was bound to believe, an incident without importance for herself; in spite of her having followed it up the next day by the remark, thrown at him as she passed, with a smile that was almost fraternal: “It’s all right, sir! I’ve found that old chair.” After this she hadn’t spoken to him again and had scarcely looked at him. She read a great deal, and almost always French books, in fresh yellow paper; not the lighter114 forms of that literature, but a volume of Sainte–Beuve, of Renan or at the most, in the way of dissipation, of Alfred de Musset. She took frequent exercise and almost always walked alone, apparently not having made many friends on the ship and being without the resource of her parents, who, as has been related, never budged115 out of the cosy116 corner in which she planted them for the day.
Her brother was always in the smoking-room, where Vogelstein observed him, in very tight clothes, his neck encircled with a collar like a palisade. He had a sharp little face, which was not disagreeable; he smoked enormous cigars and began his drinking early in the day: but his appearance gave no sign of these excesses. As regards euchre and poker117 and the other distractions118 of the place he was guilty of none. He evidently understood such games in perfection, for he used to watch the players, and even at moments impartially119 advise them; but Vogelstein never saw the cards in his hand. He was referred to as regards disputed points, and his opinion carried the day. He took little part in the conversation, usually much relaxed, that prevailed in the smoking-room, but from time to time he made, in his soft flat youthful voice, a remark which every one paused to listen to and which was greeted with roars of laughter. Vogelstein, well as he knew English, could rarely catch the joke; but he could see at least that these must be choice specimens120 of that American humour admired and practised by a whole continent and yet to be rendered accessible to a trained diplomatist, clearly, but by some special and incalculable revelation. The young man, in his way, was very remarkable, for, as Vogelstein heard some one say once after the laughter had subsided121, he was only nineteen. If his sister didn’t resemble the dreadful little girl in the tale already mentioned, there was for Vogelstein at least an analogy between young Mr. Day and a certain small brother—a candy-loving Madison, Hamilton or Jefferson—who was, in the Tauchnitz volume, attributed to that unfortunate maid. This was what the little Madison would have grown up to at nineteen, and the improvement was greater than might have been expected.
The days were long, but the voyage was short, and it had almost come to an end before Count Otto yielded to an attraction peculiar in its nature and finally irresistible122, and, in spite of Mrs. Dangerfield’s emphatic123 warning, sought occasion for a little continuous talk with Miss Pandora. To mention that this impulse took effect without mentioning sundry124 other of his current impressions with which it had nothing to do is perhaps to violate proportion and give a false idea; but to pass it by would be still more unjust. The Germans, as we know, are a transcendental people, and there was at last an irresistible appeal for Vogelstein in this quick bright silent girl who could smile and turn vocal125 in an instant, who imparted a rare originality126 to the filial character, and whose profile was delicate as she bent it over a volume which she cut as she read, or presented it in musing58 attitudes, at the side of the ship, to the horizon they had left behind. But he felt it to be a pity, as regards a possible acquaintance with her, that her parents should be heavy little burghers, that her brother should not correspond to his conception of a young man of the upper class, and that her sister should be a Daisy Miller127 en herbe. Repeatedly admonished128 by Mrs. Dangerfield, the young diplomatist was doubly careful as to the relations he might form at the beginning of his sojourn129 in the United States. That lady reminded him, and he had himself made the observation in other capitals, that the first year, and even the second, is the time for prudence130. One was ignorant of proportions and values; one was exposed to mistakes and thankful for attention, and one might give one’s self away to people who would afterwards be as a millstone round one’s neck: Mrs. Dangerfield struck and sustained that note, which resounded131 in the young man’s imagination. She assured him that if he didn’t “look out” he would be committing himself to some American girl with an impossible family. In America, when one committed one’s self, there was nothing to do but march to the altar, and what should he say for instance to finding himself a near relation of Mr. and Mrs. P. W. Day?—since such were the initials inscribed133 on the back of the two chairs of that couple. Count Otto felt the peril134, for he could immediately think of a dozen men he knew who had married American girls. There appeared now to be a constant danger of marrying the American girl; it was something one had to reckon with, like the railway, the telegraph, the discovery of dynamite135, the Chassepot rifle, the Socialistic spirit: it was one of the complications of modern life.
It would doubtless be too much to say that he feared being carried away by a passion for a young woman who was not strikingly beautiful and with whom he had talked, in all, but ten minutes. But, as we recognise, he went so far as to wish that the human belongings of a person whose high spirit appeared to have no taint136 either of fastness, as they said in England, or of subversive137 opinion, and whose mouth had charming lines, should not be a little more distinguished138. There was an effect of drollery139 in her behaviour to these subjects of her zeal140, whom she seemed to regard as a care, but not as an interest; it was as if they had been entrusted141 to her honour and she had engaged to convey them safe to a certain point; she was detached and inadvertent, and then suddenly remembered, repented142 and came back to tuck them into their blankets, to alter the position of her mother’s umbrella, to tell them something about the run of the ship. These little offices were usually performed deftly143, rapidly, with the minimum of words, and when their daughter drew near them Mr. and Mrs. Day closed their eyes after the fashion of a pair of household dogs who expect to be scratched.
One morning she brought up the Captain of the ship to present to them; she appeared to have a private and independent acquaintance with this officer, and the introduction to her parents had the air of a sudden happy thought. It wasn’t so much an introduction as an exhibition, as if she were saying to him: “This is what they look like; see how comfortable I make them. Aren’t they rather queer and rather dear little people? But they leave me perfectly free. Oh I can assure you of that. Besides, you must see it for yourself.” Mr. and Mrs. Day looked up at the high functionary144 who thus unbent to them with very little change of countenance145; then looked at each other in the same way. He saluted146, he inclined himself a moment; but Pandora shook her head, she seemed to be answering for them; she made little gestures as if in explanation to the good Captain of some of their peculiarities148, as for instance that he needn’t expect them to speak. They closed their eyes at last; she appeared to have a kind of mesmeric influence on them, and Miss Day walked away with the important friend, who treated her with evident consideration, bowing very low, for all his importance, when the two presently after separated. Vogelstein could see she was capable of making an impression; and the moral of our little matter is that in spite of Mrs. Dangerfield, in spite of the resolutions of his prudence, in spite of the limits of such acquaintance as he had momentarily made with her, in spite of Mr. and Mrs. Day and the young man in the smoking-room, she had fixed his attention.
It was in the course of the evening after the scene with the Captain that he joined her, awkwardly, abruptly149, irresistibly150, on the deck, where she was pacing to and fro alone, the hour being auspiciously151 mild and the stars remarkably fine. There were scattered talkers and smokers152 and couples, unrecognisable, that moved quickly through the gloom. The vessel dipped with long regular pulsations; vague and spectral153 under the low stars, its swaying pinnacles154 spotted155 here and there with lights, it seemed to rush through the darkness faster than by day. Count Otto had come up to walk, and as the girl brushed past him he distinguished Pandora’s face—with Mrs. Dangerfield he always spoke of her as Pandora—under the veil worn to protect it from the sea-damp. He stopped, turned, hurried after her, threw away his cigar—then asked her if she would do him the honour to accept his arm. She declined his arm but accepted his company, and he allowed her to enjoy it for an hour. They had a great deal of talk, and he was to remember afterwards some of the things she had said. There was now a certainty of the ship’s getting into dock the next morning but one, and this prospect156 afforded an obvious topic. Some of Miss Day’s expressions struck him as singular, but of course, as he was aware, his knowledge of English was not nice enough to give him a perfect measure.
“I’m not in a hurry to arrive; I’m very happy here,” she said. “I’m afraid I shall have such a time putting my people through.”
“Putting them through?”
“Through the Custom–House. We’ve made so many purchases. Well, I’ve written to a friend to come down, and perhaps he can help us. He’s very well acquainted with the head. Once I’m chalked I don’t care. I feel like a kind of blackboard by this time anyway. We found them awful in Germany.”
Count Otto wondered if the friend she had written to were her lover and if they had plighted157 their troth, especially when she alluded158 to him again as “that gentleman who’s coming down.” He asked her about her travels, her impressions, whether she had been long in Europe and what she liked best, and she put it to him that they had gone abroad, she and her family, for a little fresh experience. Though he found her very intelligent he suspected she gave this as a reason because he was a German and she had heard the Germans were rich in culture. He wondered what form of culture Mr. and Mrs. Day had brought back from Italy, Greece and Palestine—they had travelled for two years and been everywhere—especially when their daughter said: “I wanted father and mother to see the best things. I kept them three hours on the Acropolis. I guess they won’t forget that!” Perhaps it was of Phidias and Pericles they were thinking, Vogelstein reflected, as they sat ruminating159 in their rugs. Pandora remarked also that she wanted to show her little sister everything while she was comparatively unformed (“comparatively!” he mutely gasped); remarkable sights made so much more impression when the mind was fresh: she had read something of that sort somewhere in Goethe. She had wanted to come herself when she was her sister’s age; but her father was in business then and they couldn’t leave Utica. The young man thought of the little sister frisking over the Parthenon and the Mount of Olives and sharing for two years, the years of the school-room, this extraordinary pilgrimage of her parents; he wondered whether Goethe’s dictum had been justified160 in this case. He asked Pandora if Utica were the seat of her family, if it were an important or typical place, if it would be an interesting city for him, as a stranger, to see. His companion replied frankly161 that this was a big question, but added that all the same she would ask him to “come and visit us at our home” if it weren’t that they should probably soon leave it.
“Ah, you’re going to live elsewhere?” Vogelstein asked, as if that fact too would be typical.
“Well, I’m working for New York. I flatter myself I’ve loosened them while we’ve been away,” the girl went on. “They won’t find in Utica the same charm; that was my idea. I want a big place, and of course Utica—!” She broke off as before a complex statement.
“I suppose Utica is inferior—?” Vogelstein seemed to see his way to suggest.
“Well no, I guess I can’t have you call Utica inferior. It isn’t supreme—that’s what’s the matter with it, and I hate anything middling,” said Pandora Day. She gave a light dry laugh, tossing back her head a little as she made this declaration. And looking at her askance in the dusk, as she trod the deck that vaguely swayed, he recognised something in her air and port that matched such a pronouncement.
“What’s her social position?” he inquired of Mrs. Dangerfield the next day. “I can’t make it out at all—it’s so contradictory162. She strikes me as having much cultivation163 and much spirit. Her appearance, too, is very neat. Yet her parents are complete little burghers. That’s easily seen.”
“Oh, social position,” and Mrs. Dangerfield nodded two or three times portentously164. “What big expressions you use! Do you think everybody in the world has a social position? That’s reserved for an infinitely165 small majority of mankind. You can’t have a social position at Utica any more than you can have an opera-box. Pandora hasn’t got one; where, if you please, should she have got it? Poor girl, it isn’t fair of you to make her the subject of such questions as that.”
“Well,” said Vogelstein, “if she’s of the lower class it seems to me very—very—” And he paused a moment, as he often paused in speaking English, looking for his word.
“Very what, dear Count?”
“Very significant, very representative.”
“Oh dear, she isn’t of the lower class,” Mrs. Dangerfield returned with an irritated sense of wasted wisdom. She liked to explain her country, but that somehow always required two persons.
“What is she then?”
“Well, I’m bound to admit that since I was at home last she’s a novelty. A girl like that with such people—it IS a new type.”
“I like novelties”—and Count Otto smiled with an air of considerable resolution. He couldn’t however be satisfied with a demonstration166 that only begged the question; and when they disembarked in New York he felt, even amid the confusion of the wharf and the heaps of disembowelled baggage, a certain acuteness of regret at the idea that Pandora and her family were about to vanish into the unknown. He had a consolation167 however: it was apparent that for some reason or other—illness or absence from town—the gentleman to whom she had written had not, as she said, come down. Vogelstein was glad—he couldn’t have told you why—that this sympathetic person had failed her; even though without him Pandora had to engage single-handed with the United States Custom–House. Our young man’s first impression of the Western world was received on the landing-place of the German steamers at Jersey168 City—a huge wooden shed covering a wooden wharf which resounded under the feet, an expanse palisaded with rough-hewn piles that leaned this way and that, and bestrewn with masses of heterogeneous169 luggage. At one end; toward the town, was a row of tall painted palings, behind which he could distinguish a press of hackney-coachmen, who brandished170 their whips and awaited their victims, while their voices rose, incessant171, with a sharp strange sound, a challenge at once fierce and familiar. The whole place, behind the fence, appeared to bristle172 and resound132. Out there was America, Count Otto said to himself, and he looked toward it with a sense that he should have to muster173 resolution. On the wharf people were rushing about amid their trunks, pulling their things together, trying to unite their scattered parcels. They were heated and angry, or else quite bewildered and discouraged. The few that had succeeded in collecting their battered174 boxes had an air of flushed indifference175 to the efforts of their neighbours, not even looking at people with whom they had been fondly intimate on the steamer. A detachment of the officers of the Customs was in attendance, and energetic passengers were engaged in attempts to drag them toward their luggage or to drag heavy pieces toward them. These functionaries176 were good-natured and taciturn, except when occasionally they remarked to a passenger whose open trunk stared up at them, eloquent177, imploring178, that they were afraid the voyage had been “rather glassy.” They had a friendly leisurely speculative179 way of discharging their duty, and if they perceived a victim’s name written on the portmanteau they addressed him by it in a tone of old acquaintance. Vogelstein found however that if they were familiar they weren’t indiscreet. He had heard that in America all public functionaries were the same, that there wasn’t a different tenue, as they said in France, for different positions, and he wondered whether at Washington the President and ministers, whom he expected to see—to HAVE to see—a good deal of, would be like that.
He was diverted from these speculations180 by the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Day seated side by side upon a trunk and encompassed181 apparently by the accumulations of their tour. Their faces expressed more consciousness of surrounding objects than he had hitherto recognised, and there was an air of placid182 expansion in the mysterious couple which suggested that this consciousness was agreeable. Mr. and Mrs. Day were, as they would have said, real glad to get back. At a little distance, on the edge of the dock, our observer remarked their son, who had found a place where, between the sides of two big ships, he could see the ferry-boats pass; the large pyramidal low-laden ferry-boats of American waters. He stood there, patient and considering, with his small neat foot on a coil of rope, his back to everything that had been disembarked, his neck elongated in its polished cylinder183, while the fragrance184 of his big cigar mingled185 with the odour of the rotting piles, and his little sister, beside him, hugged a huge post and tried to see how far she could crane over the water without falling in. Vogelstein’s servant was off in search of an examiner; Count Otto himself had got his things together and was waiting to be released, fully81 expecting that for a person of his importance the ceremony would be brief.
Before it began he said a word to young Mr. Day, raising his hat at the same time to the little girl, whom he had not yet greeted and who dodged186 his salute147 by swinging herself boldly outward to the dangerous side of the pier187. She was indeed still unformed, but was evidently as light as a feather.
“I see you’re kept waiting like me. It’s very tiresome,” Count Otto said.
The young American answered without looking behind him. “As soon as we’re started we’ll go all right. My sister has written to a gentleman to come down.”
“I’ve looked for Miss Day to bid her good-bye,” Vogelstein went on; “but I don’t see her.”
“I guess she has gone to meet that gentleman; he’s a great friend of hers.”
“I guess he’s her lover!” the little girl broke out. “She was always writing to him in Europe.”
Her brother puffed188 his cigar in silence a moment. “That was only for this. I’ll tell on you, sis,” he presently added.
But the younger Miss Day gave no heed189 to his menace; she addressed herself only, though with all freedom, to Vogelstein. “This is New York; I like it better than Utica.”
He had no time to reply, for his servant had arrived with one of the dispensers of fortune; but as he turned away he wondered, in the light of the child’s preference, about the towns of the interior. He was naturally exempt190 from the common doom191. The officer who took him in hand, and who had a large straw hat and a diamond breastpin, was quite a man of the world, and in reply to the Count’s formal declarations only said, “Well, I guess it’s all right; I guess I’ll just pass you,” distributing chalk-marks as if they had been so many love-pats. The servant had done some superfluous192 unlocking and unbuckling, and while he closed the pieces the officer stood there wiping his forehead and conversing193 with Vogelstein. “First visit to our country, sir?—quite alone—no ladies? Of course the ladies are what we’re most after.” It was in this manner he expressed himself, while the young diplomatist wondered what he was waiting for and whether he ought to slip something into his palm. But this representative of order left our friend only a moment in suspense194; he presently turned away with the remark quite paternally195 uttered, that he hoped the Count would make quite a stay; upon which the young man saw how wrong he should have been to offer a tip. It was simply the American manner, which had a finish of its own after all. Vogelstein’s servant had secured a porter with a truck, and he was about to leave the place when he saw Pandora Day dart37 out of the crowd and address herself with much eagerness to the functionary who had just liberated196 him. She had an open letter in her hand which she gave him to read and over which he cast his eyes, thoughtfully stroking his beard. Then she led him away to where her parents sat on their luggage. Count Otto sent off his servant with the porter and followed Pandora, to whom he really wished to address a word of farewell. The last thing they had said to each other on the ship was that they should meet again on shore. It seemed improbable however that the meeting would occur anywhere but just here on the dock; inasmuch as Pandora was decidedly not in society, where Vogelstein would be of course, and as, if Utica—he had her sharp little sister’s word for it—was worse than what was about him there, he’d be hanged if he’d go to Utica. He overtook Pandora quickly; she was in the act of introducing the representative of order to her parents, quite in the same manner in which she had introduced the Captain of the ship. Mr. and Mrs. Day got up and shook hands with him and they evidently all prepared to have a little talk. “I should like to introduce you to my brother and sister,” he heard the girl say, and he saw her look about for these appendages197. He caught her eye as she did so, and advanced with his hand outstretched, reflecting the while that evidently the Americans, whom he had always heard described as silent and practical, rejoiced to extravagance in the social graces. They dawdled198 and chattered199 like so many Neapolitans.
“Good-bye, Count Vogelstein,” said Pandora, who was a little flushed with her various exertions200 but didn’t look the worse for it. “I hope you’ll have a splendid time and appreciate our country.”
“I hope you’ll get through all right,” Vogelstein answered, smiling and feeling himself already more idiomatic201.
“That gentleman’s sick that I wrote to,” she rejoined; “isn’t it too bad? But he sent me down a letter to a friend of his—one of the examiners—and I guess we won’t have any trouble. Mr. Lansing, let me make you acquainted with Count Vogelstein,” she went on, presenting to her fellow-passenger the wearer of the straw hat and the breastpin, who shook hands with the young German as if he had never seen him before. Vogelstein’s heart rose for an instant to his throat; he thanked his stars he hadn’t offered a tip to the friend of a gentleman who had often been mentioned to him and who had also been described by a member of Pandora’s family as Pandora’s lover.
“It’s a case of ladies this time,” Mr. Lansing remarked to him with a smile which seemed to confess surreptitiously, and as if neither party could be eager, to recognition.
“Well, Mr. Bellamy says you’ll do anything for HIM,” Pandora said, smiling very sweetly at Mr. Lansing. “We haven’t got much; we’ve been gone only two years.”
Mr. Lansing scratched his head a little behind, with a movement that sent his straw hat forward in the direction of his nose. “I don’t know as I’d do anything for him that I wouldn’t do for you,” he responded with an equal geniality202. “I guess you’d better open that one”—and he gave a little affectionate kick to one of the trunks.
“Oh mother, isn’t he lovely? It’s only your sea-things,” Pandora cried, stooping over the coffer with the key in her hand.
“I don’t know as I like showing them,” Mrs. Day modestly murmured.
Vogelstein made his German salutation to the company in general, and to Pandora he offered an audible good-bye, which she returned in a bright friendly voice, but without looking round as she fumbled203 at the lock of her trunk.
“We’ll try another, if you like,” said Mr. Lansing good-humouredly.
“Oh no it has got to be this one! Good-bye, Count Vogelstein. I hope you’ll judge us correctly!”
The young man went his way and passed the barrier of the dock. Here he was met by his English valet with a face of consternation204 which led him to ask if a cab weren’t forthcoming.
“They call ’em ‘acks ’ere, sir,” said the man, “and they’re beyond everything. He wants thirty shillings to take you to the inn.”
Vogelstein hesitated a moment. “Couldn’t you find a German?”
“By the way he talks he IS a German said the man; and in a moment Count Otto began his career in America by discussing the tariff205 of hackney-coaches in the language of the fatherland.
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1
cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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bulwarks
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| n.堡垒( bulwark的名词复数 )；保障；支柱；舷墙 | |
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embark
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| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
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5
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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7
devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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8
mitigate
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| vt.（使）减轻，（使）缓和 | |
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benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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10
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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14
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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15
abounding
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| adj.丰富的，大量的v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的现在分词 ) | |
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16
circumspection
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| n.细心，慎重 | |
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diplomacy
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| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
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18
aspirant
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| n.热望者；adj.渴望的 | |
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19
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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22
accredited
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| adj.可接受的；可信任的；公认的；质量合格的v.相信( accredit的过去式和过去分词 )；委托；委任；把…归结于 | |
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23
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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27
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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emigrants
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| n.（从本国移往他国的）移民( emigrant的名词复数 ) | |
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densely
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| ad.密集地；浓厚地 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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34
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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hampers
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的第三人称单数 ) | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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37
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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40
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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41
contingent
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| adj.视条件而定的；n.一组，代表团，分遣队 | |
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42
persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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43
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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45
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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46
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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47
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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48
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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49
pilfering
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| v.偷窃（小东西），小偷( pilfer的现在分词 )；偷窃（一般指小偷小摸） | |
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50
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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51
flinch
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| v.畏缩，退缩 | |
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52
concussions
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| n.震荡( concussion的名词复数 )；脑震荡；冲击；震动 | |
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53
isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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54
cones
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| n.（人眼）圆锥细胞；圆锥体( cone的名词复数 )；球果；圆锥形东西；（盛冰淇淋的）锥形蛋卷筒 | |
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55
rosiness
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| n.玫瑰色；淡红色；光明；有希望 | |
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56
prow
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| n.(飞机)机头，船头 | |
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57
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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58
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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59
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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61
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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64
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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68
belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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69
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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systematically
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| adv.有系统地 | |
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71
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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72
appreciable
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| adj.明显的，可见的，可估量的，可觉察的 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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74
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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aquiline
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| adj.钩状的，鹰的 | |
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76
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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77
truthfulness
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| n. 符合实际 | |
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78
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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80
serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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81
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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82
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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83
acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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84
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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85
recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
sketched
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| v.草拟（sketch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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87
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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88
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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89
provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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90
insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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91
monarchical
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| adj. 国王的，帝王的，君主的，拥护君主制的 =monarchic | |
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92
delusions
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| n.欺骗( delusion的名词复数 )；谬见；错觉；妄想 | |
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93
elongated
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| v.延长，加长( elongate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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95
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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96
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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97
glaze
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| v.因疲倦、疲劳等指眼睛变得呆滞，毫无表情 | |
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98
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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99
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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100
perpendicular
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| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
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101
truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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102
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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103
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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104
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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105
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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106
arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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107
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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108
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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109
askew
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| adv.斜地；adj.歪斜的 | |
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110
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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111
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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112
distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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113
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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114
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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115
budged
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| v.（使）稍微移动( budge的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）改变主意，（使）让步 | |
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116
cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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117
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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118
distractions
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| n.使人分心的事[人]( distraction的名词复数 )；娱乐，消遣；心烦意乱；精神错乱 | |
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119
impartially
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| adv.公平地，无私地 | |
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120
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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121
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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122
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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123
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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124
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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125
vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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126
originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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127
miller
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| n.磨坊主 | |
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128
admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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129
sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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130
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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131
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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132
resound
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| v.回响 | |
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133
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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134
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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135
dynamite
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| n./vt.(用)炸药(爆破) | |
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136
taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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137
subversive
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| adj.颠覆性的，破坏性的；n.破坏份子，危险份子 | |
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138
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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139
drollery
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| n.开玩笑，说笑话；滑稽可笑的图画（或故事、小戏等） | |
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140
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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141
entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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142
repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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143
deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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144
functionary
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| n.官员；公职人员 | |
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145
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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146
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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147
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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148
peculiarities
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| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
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149
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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150
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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151
auspiciously
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| adv.吉利； 繁荣昌盛； 前途顺利； 吉祥 | |
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152
smokers
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| 吸烟者( smoker的名词复数 ) | |
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153
spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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154
pinnacles
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| 顶峰( pinnacle的名词复数 )； 顶点； 尖顶； 小尖塔 | |
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155
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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156
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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157
plighted
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| vt.保证，约定（plight的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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158
alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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159
ruminating
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| v.沉思( ruminate的现在分词 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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160
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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161
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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162
contradictory
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| adj.反驳的，反对的，抗辩的；n.正反对，矛盾对立 | |
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163
cultivation
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| n.耕作，培养，栽培（法），养成 | |
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164
portentously
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165
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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166
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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167
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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168
jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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169
heterogeneous
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| adj.庞杂的；异类的 | |
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170
brandished
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| v.挥舞( brandish的过去式和过去分词 )；炫耀 | |
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171
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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172
bristle
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| v.（毛发）直立，气势汹汹，发怒；n.硬毛发 | |
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173
muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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174
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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175
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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176
functionaries
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| n.公职人员，官员( functionary的名词复数 ) | |
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177
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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178
imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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179
speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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180
speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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181
encompassed
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| v.围绕( encompass的过去式和过去分词 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
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182
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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183
cylinder
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| n.圆筒，柱(面)，汽缸 | |
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184
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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185
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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186
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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187
pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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188
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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189
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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190
exempt
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| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
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191
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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192
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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193
conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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194
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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195
paternally
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| adv.父亲似地；父亲一般地 | |
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196
liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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197
appendages
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| n.附属物( appendage的名词复数 )；依附的人；附属器官；附属肢体（如臂、腿、尾等） | |
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198
dawdled
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| v.混（时间）( dawdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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199
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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200
exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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201
idiomatic
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| adj.成语的，符合语言习惯的 | |
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202
geniality
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| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
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203
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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204
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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205
tariff
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| n.关税，税率；(旅馆、饭店等)价目表，收费表 | |
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