This occurred in the Impasse4 d'Amsterdam, in the last house on the right, a lofty dwelling5, where the Western Railway Company lodged6 some of their staff. The window on the fifth floor, at the angle of the mansarded roof, looked on to the station, that broad trench8 cutting into the Quartier de l'Europe, to abruptly10 open up the view, and which the grey mid-February sky, of a grey that was damp and warm, penetrated11 by the sun, seemed to make still wider on that particular afternoon.
Opposite, in the sunny haze12, the houses in the Rue13 de Rome became confused, fading lightly into distance. On the left gaped14 the gigantic porches of the iron marquees, with their smoky glass. That of the main lines on which the eye looked down, appeared immense. It was separated from those of Argenteuil, Versailles, and the Ceinture railway, which were smaller, by the buildings set apart for[Pg 2] the post-office, and for heating water to fill the foot-warmers. To the right the trench was severed15 by the diamond pattern ironwork of the Pont de l'Europe, but it came into sight again, and could be followed as far as the Batignolles tunnel.
And below the window itself, occupying all the vast space, the three double lines that issued from the bridge deviated16, spreading out like a fan, whose innumerable metal branches ran on to disappear beneath the span roofs of the marquees. In front of the arches stood the three boxes of the pointsmen, with their small, bare gardens. Amidst the confused background of carriages and engines encumbering17 the rails, a great red signal formed a spot in the pale daylight.
Roubaud was interested for a few minutes, comparing what he saw with his own station at Havre. Each time he came like this, to pass a day at Paris, and found accommodation in the room of Mother Victoire, love of his trade got the better of him. The arrival of the train from Mantes had animated18 the platforms under the marquee of the main lines; and his eyes followed the shunting engine, a small tender-engine with three low wheels coupled together, which began briskly bustling19 to and fro, branching off the train, dragging away the carriages to drive them on to the shunting lines. Another engine, a powerful one this, an express engine, with two great devouring20 wheels, stood still alone, sending from its chimney a quantity of black smoke, which ascended21 straight, and very slowly, through the calm air.
But all the attention of Roubaud was centred on the 3.25 train for Caen, already full of passengers and awaiting its locomotive, which he could not see, for it had stopped on the other side of the Pont de l'Europe. He could only hear it asking for permission to advance, with slight, hurried whistles, like a person becoming impatient. An order resounded22. The locomotive responded by one short whistle to indicate that it had understood. Then, before moving, came a brief silence. The exhaust pipes were opened, and[Pg 3] the steam went hissing23 on a level with the ground in a deafening24 jet.
He then noticed this white cloud bursting from the bridge in volume, whirling about like snowy fleece flying through the ironwork. A whole corner of the expanse became whitened, while the smoke from the other engine expanded its black veil. From behind the bridge could be heard the prolonged, muffled25 sounds of the horn, mingled26 with the shouting of orders and the shocks of turning-tables. All at once the air was rent, and he distinguished27 in the background a train from Versailles, and a train from Auteuil, one up and one down, crossing each other.
As Roubaud was about to quit the window, a voice calling him by name made him lean out. Below, on the fourth floor balcony, he recognised a young man about thirty years of age, named Henri Dauvergne, a headguard, who resided there with his father, deputy station-master for the main lines, and his two sisters, Claire and Sophie, a couple of charming blondes, one eighteen and the other twenty, who looked after the housekeeping with the 6,000 frcs. of the two men, amidst a constant stream of gaiety. The elder one would be heard laughing, while the younger sang, and a cage full of exotic birds rivalled one another in roulades.
"By Jove, Monsieur Roubaud! so you are in Paris, then? Ah! yes, about your affair with the sub-prefect!"
The assistant station-master, leaning on the rail again, explained that he had to leave Havre that morning by the 6.40 express. He had been summoned to Paris by the traffic-manager, who had been giving him a serious lecture. He considered himself lucky in not having lost his post.
"And madam?" Henri inquired.
Madame had wished to come also, to make some purchases. Her husband was waiting for her there, in that room which Mother Victoire placed at their service whenever they came to Paris. It was there that they loved to lunch, tranquil29 and[Pg 4] alone, while the worthy30 woman was detained downstairs at her post. On that particular day they had eaten a roll at Mantes, wishing to get their errands over first of all. But three o'clock had struck, and he was dying with hunger.
Henri, to be amiable31, put one more question:
"And are you going to pass the night in Paris?"
No, no! Both were returning to Havre in the evening by the 6.30 express. Ah! holidays, indeed! They brought you up to give you your dose, and off, back again at once!
The two looked at one another for a moment, tossing their heads, but they could no longer hear themselves speak; a devil-possessed32 piano had just broken into sonorous33 notes. The two sisters must have been thumping34 on it together, laughing louder than ever, and exciting the exotic birds. Then the young man gained by the merriment, said good-bye to withdraw into the apartment; and the assistant station-master, left alone, remained a moment with his eyes on the balcony whence ascended all this youthful gaiety. Then, looking up, he perceived the locomotive, whose driver had shut off the exhaust pipes and which the pointsman switched on to the train for Caen. The last flakes36 of white steam were lost amid the heavy whirling cloud of smoke soiling the sky. And Roubaud also returned into his room.
Standing37 before the cuckoo clock pointing to 3.20, he gave a gesture of despair. What on earth was keeping Séverine so long? When she once entered a shop, she could never leave it. To stay his famishing hunger he thought of laying the table. He was familiar with this large apartment lighted by two windows, which served as bedroom, dining-room, and kitchen; and with its walnut38 furniture, its bed draped in Turkey-red material, its sideboard, its round table, and Norman wardrobe.
From the sideboard he took napkins, plates, knives and forks, and two glasses. Everything was extremely clean, and he felt as much pleased to perform this little household[Pg 5] duty, as if he had been a child playing at dining. The whiteness of the linen39 delighted him, and, being very much in love with his wife, he smiled to himself at the idea of the peal40 of laughter she would give on opening the door. But when he had placed the paté on a plate, and set the bottle of white wine beside it, he became uneasy and looked about him. Then he quickly drew a couple of small parcels from his pockets which he had forgotten—a little box of sardines41 and some Gruyère cheese.
The half hour struck. Roubaud strode up and down with an ear attentive42 to the staircase, turning round at the least sound. Passing before the looking-glass as he waited with nothing to do, he stopped and gazed at himself. He did not appear to be growing old. Although getting on for forty, the bright reddishness of his curly hair had not diminished. His fair beard, also verging43 on red, which he wore full, had remained thick. Of medium height, but extremely vigorous, he felt pleased with his appearance, satisfied with his rather flat head, and low forehead, his thick neck, his round, ruddy face lit up by a pair of large, sparkling eyes. His eyebrows44 joined, clouding his forehead with the bar of jealousy45.
There was a sound of footsteps. Roubaud ran and set the door ajar; but it was a woman who sold newspapers in the station, returning to her lodging46 hard by. He came back and examined a box made of shells standing on the sideboard. He knew that box very well, a present from Séverine to Mother Victoire, her wet-nurse. And this trifling47 object sufficed to recall all the story of his marriage, which had taken place almost three years previously48.
Born in the south of France at Plassans, he had a carter for father. He had quitted the army with the stripes of a sergeant-major, and for a long time had been general porter at the station at Mantes. He had then been promoted head-porter at Barentin, and it was there that he had first[Pg 6] seen his dear wife, when she came from Doinville in company with Mademoiselle Berthe, the daughter of President Grandmorin.
Séverine Aubry was nothing more than the younger daughter of a gardener, who had died in the service of the Grandmorins; but the President, her godfather and guardian49, had taken such a fancy to her, making her the playmate of his own daughter, sending them both to the same school at Rouen, and, moreover, she possessed such an innate50 air of superiority herself, that Roubaud for a long time, had been content to admire her at a distance, with the passion of a workman freed from some of his rough edge, for a dainty jewel that he considered precious.
This was the sole romance of his existence. He would have wedded51 the girl without a sou, for the joy of calling her his own; and when he had been so bold as to ask her hand, the realisation of his hopes had surpassed his dream. Apart from Séverine and a marriage portion of 10,000 frcs., the President, now pensioned off, a member of the Board of Directors of the Western Railway Company, had extended to him his protection. Almost immediately after the wedding he had become assistant station-master at Havre. No doubt he had good notes to his credit—firm at his post, punctual, honest, of limited intelligence, but very straightforward53,—all excellent qualities that might explain the prompt attention given to his request and his rapid promotion54. But he preferred to believe that he owed everything to his wife whom he adored.
When Roubaud had opened the box of sardines he positively55 lost patience. It had been agreed that they should meet there at three o'clock. Where could she be? She would not have the audacity56 to tell him that it required a whole day to purchase a pair of boots, and a few articles of linen. And as he again passed before the looking-glass, he perceived his eyebrows on end, and his forehead furrowed[Pg 7] with a harsh line. Never had he suspected her at Havre. In Paris he pictured to himself all sorts of danger, deceit, and levity57. The blood rushed to his head, his fists of a former porter were clenched58, as in the days when he shunted the carriages. He became the brute59 again, unconscious of his strength. He would have crushed her in an outburst of blind fury.
Séverine pushed open the door, and presented herself quite fresh and joyful60.
"Here I am! Eh! you must have fancied me lost," she exclaimed.
In the lustre61 of her five-and-twenty years she looked tall, slim, and very supple62, but she was plump, notwithstanding her small bones. At first sight she did not appear pretty, with her long face, and large mouth set with beautiful teeth. But on observing her more closely, she fascinated one by her charm, by the peculiarity63 of her blue eyes, crowned with an abundance of raven64 hair.
And as her husband, without answering, continued to examine her with the troubled, vacillating look she knew so well, she added:
"Oh! I walked very fast. Just imagine, it was impossible to get an omnibus. Then, as I did not want to spend money on a cab, I walked as fast as I could. See how hot I am!"
"Look here," said he violently, "you will not make me believe you come from the Bon Marché."
But immediately, in the delightful66 manner of a child, she threw herself on his neck, closing his mouth with her pretty little plump hand.
"Oh! you wicked creature! you wicked creature!" she exclaimed; "hold your tongue; you know I love you."
She was so full of sincerity67, he felt her still so candid68, so straightforward, that he pressed her passionately69 in his arms. His suspicions always ended thus. She abandoned herself[Pg 8] to him, loving to be petted. He covered her with kisses, which she did not return; and it was this that caused him a sort of vague uneasiness. This great, passive child, full of filial affection, had not yet awakened70 to love.
"So you ransacked72 the Bon Marché?" said he.
"Oh! yes. I'll tell you all about it," she replied. "But, first of all, let us eat. You cannot imagine how hungry I am! Ah! listen! I've a little present. Repeat, 'Where is my little present?'"
And she laughed quite close to his face. She had thrust her right hand in her pocket, where she held an object she did not take out of it.
"Say quick, 'Where is my little present?'" she continued.
He also was laughing, like a good-natured man, and did as she asked him.
"Where is my little present?" he inquired. She had bought him a knife to replace one he had lost, and which he had been regretting for the past fortnight. He uttered an exclamation73 of delight, pronouncing this beautiful new knife superb, with its ivory handle and shining blade. He wanted to use it at once. She was charmed at his joy, and, in fun, made him give her a sou, so that their friendship might not be severed.
"To lunch, to lunch!" she repeated. "No, no!" she exclaimed, as he was about to shut the window; "don't close it yet, I beg of you! I am too warm!"
She joined him at the window, and remained there a few seconds, leaning on his shoulder, gazing at the vast expanse of the station. For the moment the smoke had disappeared. The copper-coloured disc of the sun descended74 in the haze behind the houses in the Rue de Rome. At their feet a shunting engine was bringing along the Mantes train, all made up, which was to leave at 4.25. The engine drove it back beside the platform under the marquee, and was unhooked. In the background, beneath the span-roof of the[Pg 9] Ceinture line, the shocks of buffers75 announced the unforeseen coupling-on of extra carriages. And alone, in the middle of the network of rails, with driver and fireman blackened with the dust of the journey, the heavy engine of some slow train stood motionless, as if weary and breathless, with merely a thin thread of steam issuing from a valve. It was waiting for the line to be opened to return to the dep?t at Batignolles. A red signal clacked, disappeared, and the locomotive went off.
"How gay those little Dauvergnes are!" remarked Roubaud. "Do you hear them thumping on their piano? I saw Henri just now, and he asked me to give you his compliments."
"To table, to table!" exclaimed Séverine.
And she fell upon the sardines with a hearty76 appetite, having eaten nothing since she bought the roll at Mantes. Her visits to Paris always made her excited. She was quivering with pleasure at her run through the streets, and still enraptured77 with her purchases at the Bon Marché. Each spring she spent all her winter savings78 at one stroke, preferring to purchase everything at the capital, and thus economise the cost of the journey, as she said. Without losing a mouthful, she never paused in her chatter79. A trifle confused, and blushing, she ended by letting out the total of the sum she had spent, more than 300 frcs.
"The deuce!" remarked Roubaud, startled; "you get yourself up well for the wife of an assistant station-master! But I thought you were only going to buy a little linen and a pair of boots."
"Oh! my dear! but I have got such bargains. A piece of silk with such lovely stripes! A hat, in exquisite80 taste, something to dream of! Ready-made petticoats with embroidered81 flounces! And all this for next to nothing. I should have paid double at Havre. They are going to send the parcel, and you'll see!"
She looked so pretty in her delight, with her confused air of supplication82, that he resolved to laugh. And besides,[Pg 10] this little scratch dinner was so charming in this room where they were all alone, and much more comfortable than at a restaurant. She, who usually drank water, threw off restraint, and swallowed her glass of white wine without knowing what she was about. The box of sardines being empty, they attacked the paté with the beautiful new knife. It cut so admirably that it was a perfect triumph.
"And you—what about your affair?" she inquired. "You make me chatter, and you don't tell me how your matter with the sub-prefect ended."
Thereupon he related in detail how he had been treated by the traffic-manager. Oh! he had received a thorough good wigging83! He had defended himself, he had told the truth. He had related how this little whipper-snapper of a sub-prefect had insisted on getting into a first-class carriage with his dog, when there was a second-class carriage reserved for sportsmen and their animals, and had given an account of the quarrel that had resulted, and the words that had been exchanged. In short, the manager had said he was right to have insisted on the regulations being complied with; but the bad part of the business was that sentence which he confessed having uttered: "You others will not always be the masters!" He was suspected of being a republican. The discussions that had just marked the opening of the session of 1869, and the secret alarm about the forthcoming elections, had made the government distrustful. And had not President Grandmorin spoken warmly in his favour, he would certainly have been removed from his post. As it was, he had been compelled to sign the letter of apology which the latter had advised should be sent, and had drawn86 up himself.
"Ah! you see!" broke in Séverine. "Wasn't I right to drop him a line, and pay him a visit along with you, this morning, before you went to receive your wigging? I knew he would get us out of the trouble."
"Yes, he is very fond of you," resumed Roubaud, "and is[Pg 11] all powerful in the company. What is the use of being a good servant? Ah! the manager did not stint87 me of praise: slow to take the initiative, but of good conduct, obedient, courageous88, briefly89, all sorts of qualities! Well, my dear, if you had not been my wife, and if Grandmorin had not pleaded my cause out of friendship for you, it would have been all up with me. I should have been sent to do penance90 at some small station."
She was staring fixedly92 into space, and murmured, as if speaking to herself:
"Oh! certainly, he is a man with great influence."
There was a silence, and she sat with her eyes wide open and lost in thought. She had ceased eating. No doubt she was thinking of the days of her childhood, far away, at the Chateau93 of Doinville, four leagues from Rouen. She had never known her mother. When her father, the gardener Aubry died, she was commencing her thirteenth year; and it was at this period that the President, already a widower94, had placed her with his daughter Berthe in charge of his sister, Madame Bonnehon, herself the widow of a manufacturer, from whom she had inherited the chateau.
Berthe, who was two years older than Séverine, had been wedded six months after the marriage of the latter with Roubaud, to M. de Lachesnaye, a little, shrivelled-up, sallow-complexioned man, judge at the Rouen Court of Appeal. In the preceding year President Grandmorin was still at the head of this court at Rouen, which was his own part of the country, when he retired95 on a pension, after a brilliant career.
Born in 1804, substitute at Digne on the morrow of the events in 1830, then at Fontainebleau, then at Paris, he had afterwards filled the posts of procurator at Troyes; advocate-general at Rennes; and finally, first president at Rouen. A multi-millionaire, he had been member of the County Council since 1855, and on the same day as he retired, he had been made Commander of the Legion of Honour. As far back as she could recollect96, she remembered him just[Pg 12] as he was now—thick-set and strong, prematurely97 grey, but the golden grey of one formerly98 fair; his hair cut Brutus fashion, his beard clipped short, no moustache, a square face, which eyes of a hard blue and a big nose rendered severe. He was harsh on being approached, and made everyone about him tremble.
Séverine was so absorbed that Roubaud had to raise his voice, repeating twice over:
"Well, what are you thinking about?"
She started, gave a little shudder99, as if surprised, and trembled with alarm.
"Oh! of nothing!" she answered.
"But you are not eating. Have you lost your appetite?" he inquired.
"Oh! no; you'll see," she replied.
Séverine, having emptied her glass of white wine, finished the slice of paté on her plate. But there was a cry of alarm. They had eaten the small loaf; not a mouthful remained for the cheese. They clamoured, then laughed, and finally, after disturbing everything, found a piece of stale bread at the back of the sideboard cupboard of Mother Victoire.
Although the window was open, it continued very warm, and the young woman, seated with her back to the stove, could not get refreshed; and she had become more rosy100 and excited, by the unforeseen talkative lunch in this room.
Speaking of Mother Victoire, Roubaud had returned to Grandmorin; there was another who owed him a famous debt of gratitude101. The mother of a child who had died, she became wet-nurse to Séverine, whose birth had sent her mamma into the grave. Later on, as wife of a fireman of the company, who spent all he earned in drink, she was leading a wretched existence in Paris by the aid of a little sewing, when, happening to meet her foster-daughter, the former intimacy102 had been renewed, while the President, at the same time, took her under his protection. He had now[Pg 13] obtained for her the post of attendant at the lavatory103 for ladies. The company gave her no more than 100 frcs., but she made nearly 1,400 frcs. out of the gratuities104, without counting the lodging, this room where they were lunching, and her coals. Indeed, she had a most comfortable post. And Roubaud calculated that if Pecqueux, the husband, had brought home the 2,800 frcs. which he earned as fireman, wages and gratuities together, instead of running riot at both ends of the line, they would have had between them more than 4,000 frcs. a year, double what he received as assistant station-master at Havre.
In the meanwhile, their sharp hunger had become appeased105, and they dawdled106 over the rest of the meal, cutting the cheese into small pieces to make the feast last longer. Conversation also flagged.
"By the way," said he, "why did you decline the invitation of the President to go to Doinville for two or three days?"
In the comfort of a good digestion107, he had just been running over in his mind, the incidents of their visit in the morning to the mansion108 in the Rue du Rocher, quite close to the station; he had seen himself again in the large, stern study, and he again heard the President telling them that he was leaving on the morrow for Doinville. Then, as if acting109 on a sudden impulse, the latter had suggested taking the 6.30 express with them that evening, and conducting his god-daughter on a visit to his sister, who had been wanting to see her for a long time. But the young woman had given all kinds of reasons which prevented her, she said, from accepting the invitation.
"For my part," he remarked, "I saw no inconvenience in this little trip. You might have remained there till Thursday. I should have been able to manage without you; don't you think so? We have need of them in our position. It is rather silly to show indifference110 to their politeness, and the more so as your refusal seemed to cause him real pain. And[Pg 14] that was why I never ceased pressing you to accept, until you tugged111 at my coat; and then I spoke85 as you did, but without understanding what it meant. Eh! why wouldn't you go?"
Séverine, with restless eyes, gave a gesture of impatience112.
"How could I leave you all alone?" she exclaimed.
"That isn't a reason," he replied. "During the three years we have been married, you have paid two visits of a week to Doinville. There was nothing to prevent you going there a third time."
The young woman, more and more uneasy, turned away her head.
"Well, I didn't care about it," said she. "You don't want to force me to do things that displease113 me."
Roubaud opened his arms, as if to say that he had no intention of forcing her to do anything. Nevertheless, he resumed:
"Look here, you are hiding something. Did Madame Bonnehon receive you badly the last time you went there?"
Oh! no; Madame Bonnehon had always welcomed her with great kindness, she was so amiable. Tall, and well developed, with magnificent light hair, she still remained beautiful, notwithstanding her fifty-five years. Gossip had it that since her widowhood, and even during the lifetime of her husband, her heart had frequently been occupied. They adored her at Doinville, where she made the chateau a perfect paradise. All Rouen society visited there, particularly the magistracy; and it was among this body that Madame Bonnehon had met with a great many friends.
"Then own that it was the Lachesnayes who gave you the cold shoulder," continued Roubaud.
It was true that since Berthe had married M. de Lachesnaye, she had not been on the same terms with Séverine as before. This poor Berthe, who looked so insignificant114 with her red nose, was certainly not improving in character. The ladies at Rouen extolled115 her noble bearing in no mean measure. But a husband such as she had, ugly, harsh, and[Pg 15] miserly, seemed likely to communicate his bad qualities to his wife, and make her ill-natured. Still, Séverine had nothing in particular to reproach her with. Berthe had been agreeable to her former companion.
"Then it's the President who displeases116 you down there," remarked Roubaud.
Séverine, who had been answering slowly and in an even tone, became impatient again.
"He! What an idea!" she exclaimed.
And she continued in short, nervous phrases. They barely caught sight of him. He had reserved to himself a pavilion in the park, having a door opening on a deserted117 lane. He went out and came in without anybody knowing anything about his movements. His sister never even knew positively on what day he arrived. He took a vehicle at Barentin, and drove over by night to Doinville, where he remained for days together in his pavilion, ignored by everyone. Ah! it was not he who troubled them down there.
"I only mention it," said Roubaud, "because you have told me, over and over again, that in your childhood, he frightened you out of your senses."
"Oh! frightened me out of my senses!" she replied. "You exaggerate, as usual. It is a fact that he rarely laughed. He stared at you so with his great eyes, that he made you hang your head at once. I have seen persons confused, to the point of being unable to say a word to him, so deeply were they impressed by his great reputation for severity and wisdom. But as for me, I was never scolded by him. I always felt he had a weakness for me."
Once more her speech became slow, and her eyes were lost in space.
"I remember," she resumed, "when I was a little girl, and happened to be having a game with playmates on the paths, that if he chanced to appear, everyone ran into hiding, even his daughter Berthe, who was always trembling with[Pg 16] fear lest she should be caught doing something wrong. For my part, I calmly awaited him. He came along, and seeing me there, smiling and looking up, gave me a pat on the cheek. Later on, at sixteen, whenever Berthe wished to obtain some favour from him, she always entrusted118 me with the mission of asking it. I spoke. I never looked down, and I felt his eyes penetrating119 me. But I did not care a fig120, I was so sure he would grant whatever I wanted. Ah! yes; I remember it all. There is not a piece of brushwood in the park, not a corridor, nor a room in the chateau that I cannot see, when I close my eyes."
She ceased speaking, and lowered her lids. The thrill of incidents of former days seemed to pass over her warm, puffy face. She remained thus for a few moments, with a slight beating of the lips, something like a nervous twitch121, that drew down the corner of her mouth as if she were in pain.
"He has certainly been very good to you," said Roubaud, who had just lit his pipe. "Not only did he bring you up like a young lady, but he very shrewdly invested the little money you had, and increased it when we were married, without counting what he is going to leave you. He said in my presence that he had mentioned you in his will."
"Ah! yes!" murmured Séverine, "that house at La Croix-de-Maufras, the property the railway cut in two. We used to go there, occasionally, for a week. Oh! I don't much count on that. The Lachesnayes must be at work to prevent him leaving me anything. And, besides, I would rather have nothing—nothing at all!"
She had uttered these last words in such a sharp tone, that he was astonished, and, taking his pipe from his mouth, he stared at her with rounded eyes.
"How funny you are!" said he. "Everyone knows that the President is worth millions. What harm would there be in him putting his god-daughter in his will? No one would be surprised, and it would be all right for us."
[Pg 17]
"Well, I've had enough of the subject," answered Séverine; "let us talk about something else. I will not go to Doinville because I will not, because I prefer to return with you to Havre."
He tossed his head, and appeased her with a motion of the hand. Very good, very good! As the subject annoyed her, he would say no more about it. He smiled. Never had he seen her so nervous. No doubt it was the white wine. Anxious to be forgiven, he took up the knife, went into another fit of ecstasy122 about it, and carefully wiped the blade. To show that it cut like a razor, he began to trim his nails with it.
"Already a quarter past four," murmured Séverine, standing before the cuckoo clock. "I have a few more errands to do. We must think about our train."
But, as if to get quite calm before making the room tidy, she went to the window and leant out of it. Then he, leaving his knife, leaving his pipe, also rose from the table, and, approaching her, took her gently from behind in his arms; and holding her enlaced, placed his chin on her shoulder, pressing his head against her own. Neither moved, but remained gazing at the scene below them.
The small shunting engines went and came without intermission. Similar to sharp and prudent123 housewives, the activity of their movements could barely be heard as they glided124 along with muffled wheels and a discreet125 whistle. One of them ran past, and disappeared under the Pont de l'Europe, dragging the carriages of a Trouville train to the coach-house. Over there, beyond the bridge, it brushed by a locomotive that had come alone from the dep?t, like a solitary126 pedestrian, with its shimmering127 brass128 and steel, fresh and smart for the journey. This engine was standing still, and with a couple of short whistles appealed to the pointsman to open the line. Almost immediately he switched it on to its train, which stood ready made up, beside the platform, under the marquee of the main lines.
[Pg 18]
This was the 4.25 train for Dieppe. A stream of passengers hurried forward. One heard the roll of the trucks loaded with luggage, and the porters pushing the foot-warmers, one by one, into the compartments130. The engine and tender had reached the first luggage van with a hollow clash, and the head-porter could then be seen tightening131 the screw of the spreader. The sky had become cloudy in the direction of Batignolles. An ashen132 crepuscule, effacing133 the fa?ades, seemed to be already falling on the outspread fan of railway lines; and, in this dim light, one saw in the distance, the constant departure and arrival of trains on the Banlieue and Ceinture lines. Beyond the great sheet of span-roofing of the station, shreds134 of reddish smoke flew over darkened Paris.
Séverine and Roubaud had remained some minutes at the open window without speaking. He had taken her left hand, and was playing with an old gold ring, a golden serpent with a small ruby135 head, which she wore on the same finger as her wedding-ring. He had always seen it there.
"My little serpent," she murmured, in an involuntary dreamy voice, thinking he was looking at the ring, and feeling an imperative136 necessity to speak. "He made me a present of it at La Croix-de-Maufras when I was sixteen."
Roubaud raised his head in surprise.
"Who was that?" he inquired. "The President?"
As the eyes of her husband rested on her own, she awoke, with an abrupt9 shock, to a sense of reality. She felt a little chill turn her cheeks icy cold. She wished to answer, when, choked by a sort of paralysis137, she could say nothing.
"But," he continued, "you always told me it was your mother who left you that ring."
Even at this second, she could have annulled138 the sentence she had thoughtlessly let slip. She had only to laugh, to play the madcap. But, losing her self-command, unconscious of the gravity of what she was doing, she obstinately140 maintained her statement.
[Pg 19]
"I never told you, my dear," she replied, "that my mother left me that ring."
Thereupon, Roubaud, also turning pale, stared at her threateningly.
"What do you mean," he retorted, "by saying you never told me so? Why, you've told it me twenty times over! There's no harm in the President giving you a ring. He has made you other presents of much greater value. But what need was there to hide it from me? Why lie, in speaking of your mother?"
"I never mentioned my mother, my darling," she persisted. "You are mistaken."
This obstinacy141 was idiotic142. She was aware that she was ruining herself, that he could clearly see through her. And she then wanted to retrieve143 her position, to swallow her words. But it was too late. She felt her features becoming discomposed. Do what she would, the truth burst from all her being. The chill on her cheeks had spread all over her face, and a nervous twitch dragged down her lip.
Roubaud looked frightful144. He had suddenly become red again, so red that it seemed as if his veins145 were about to burst. He had grasped her by the wrists, looking close into her face so as to be better able to follow, in the terror-stricken distraction146 of her eyes, what she dared not utter aloud. He stammered147 a great oath, which threw her into a fright, and, foreseeing a blow, she bowed her head, covering her face with her arm.
A trifling, wretched, insignificant incident—the failure to recollect the falsehood she had told about this ring—had just now, in the few words they had exchanged together, supplied evidence of a matter she had every desire to conceal148. And a minute had sufficed to bring this about.
With a jerk, he threw her across the bed, and struck her haphazard149 with his two fists. In three years he had not given her so much as a flip150, and now he was beating[Pg 20] her black and blue, in the brutish fit of passion of a man with coarse hands, who had formerly shunted railway carriages.
Uttering another frightful oath, he exclaimed:
"You did something wrong! Something wrong! Something wrong!"
As he repeated the words, his rage increased, and he belaboured her with his fists, each time he pronounced them, as if to drive them into her flesh. His voice at last became so thick with anger, that it hissed151, and ceased to be intelligible152. It was only then that he heard her, quite weak from his blows, saying "No." She could imagine no other defence. She denied the accusation153, so that he might not kill her. And this utterance154, this obstinate139 clinging to the lie, made him completely furious.
"Confess that you did something wrong," said he.
"No, no!" she answered.
He had caught hold of her again, supporting her in his arms, preventing her from resuming her position with her face against the bed-covering, like some poor creature hiding herself. He forced her to look him in the face.
"Confess that you did something wrong," he repeated.
But, slipping down, she escaped, and tried to gain the door. In a bound he was upon her again, his fist raised; and furiously, at one blow, near the table, he felled her. He threw himself beside her, he seized her by the hair to nail her to the boards. For an instant they remained thus, on the ground, face to face, without moving. And in the frightful silence, could be heard, ascending155 from the floor below, the singing and laughter of the young Dauvergnes, whose piano, fortunately, frantically156 poured forth84 its notes, stifling the sound of the struggle. It was Claire singing nursery-rhymes, while Sophie accompanied her with all her might.
"Confess that you did something wrong," said he.
No longer daring to say no, she remained silent.
[Pg 21]
"Confess that you did something wrong," he exclaimed with an oath, "or I'll rip you open!"
He would have killed her; she could see it distinctly in his eyes. In falling, she had perceived the knife, open on the table, and now she fancied she saw the flash of the blade again. She thought he was extending his arm. She was overcome by cowardice157, by an abandonment of herself and everything, a necessity to have done with the matter.
"Well, yes," said she, "it's true. Let me go."
What followed was abominable158. This avowal159, which he had so violently exacted, had just come upon him, point blank, like something impossible and monstrous160. It seemed that he could never have imagined such an infamy161. He caught hold of her head, and knocked it against a leg of the table. She struggled, and he dragged her across the room by the hair, scattering162 the chairs.
Each time she made an effort to rise he knocked her back on the floor by a blow from his fist. And he did this panting, with clenched teeth, in savage163 and senseless fury. The table, thrust away, almost upset the stove. Blood and hair were sticking to a corner of the sideboard. When they recovered breath, stupefied and reeking164 with this horror, weary of striking and of being struck, they had got close to the bed again; she, still stretched on the floor, he squatting165 down, holding her by the shoulders. And they had breathing time. Below, the music continued. The laughter rippled166 away, sonorous, and very youthful.
Roubaud, with a jerk, raised Séverine into a sitting posture167, setting her back against the bedstead. Then, still on his knees, weighing down on her shoulders, he could at last speak. He had ceased beating her; he tortured her with questions. She wept. She was so upset that she could not utter a word; and, raising his hand, he half stunned168 her with a blow from his palm. Three times, at intervals169, receiving no answer, he slapped her face. Why should she[Pg 22] struggle any longer? She was already half dead. He would have torn out her heart with those horny fingers of a former workman. And so, the cross-examination proceeded, with the threatening fist uplifted, ready to strike if she hesitated in her replies.
All at once he shook her, and inquired with an oath:
"Why did you marry me? Don't you know it was infamous170 to deceive me in this manner? There are thieves in prison, who have not half what you have on their conscience. So you despised me? You were not in love with me? Eh! why did you marry me?"
She gave a vague gesture. She did not exactly know, now. She was happy to marry him, hoping to get rid of the other. There are so many things one would rather not do, and which one does, because they are after all the wisest. No, she did not love him; and she carefully avoided telling him that had it not been for this business, never would she have consented to become his wife.
Séverine, by an effort, had risen to her feet. With a vigour171 that was extraordinary in such a weak, vanquished172 creature, she had thrust Roubaud from her. And as she freed her hand he felt the ring, the little golden serpent with the ruby head, forgotten on her finger. He tore it off, crushed it beneath his heel in another fit of rage. Then he began striding up and down, from one end of the room to the other, mute and distracted. She sank down, seated at the edge of the bed, staring at him with her great fixed91 eyes. And a terrible silence ensued.
The fury of Roubaud was not calmed. No sooner did it seem to moderate a little, than it returned at once in great waves of increased volume, which bore him along in their vertiginous173 flood. No longer under self-control, he struck about in space, a victim to all the gusts174 of the violent tempest lacerating him, only to awaken71 to the imperative necessity of appeasing175 the howling brute within him. It was a physical,[Pg 23] an immediate52 necessity, a thirst for vengeance176 that wrung177 his body, and which would leave him no repose178 until it had been satisfied.
Without stopping in his walk, he struck his temples with his two fists, and he stammered out in a voice of anguish179:
"What shall I do?"
As he had not killed this woman at once, he would not kill her now. His cowardice in allowing her to live exasperated180 his anger, for it was cowardly. It was because he still cared for her that he had not strangled her. Nevertheless, he could not keep her with him, after what he had discovered. Then he would have to drive her out, put her into the street, never to see her again? And at this thought, a fresh flood of suffering overwhelmed him. He experienced an execrable feeling of disgust when he recognised that he would not even do this. What then? It only remained for him to accept the abomination, and to take this woman back to Havre, there to continue to live quietly together, as if nothing had occurred. No, no! Death rather. Death for both of them that very instant! He was stirred with such intense distress181 that his head seemed to have gone astray, and he cried out louder than before:
"What shall I do?"
Séverine, from the bed, where she remained seated, continued following him with her great eyes. She had always felt the calm affection of a comrade for him, and the excessive grief in which she now saw him plunged182, aroused her pity. The ugly words and blows she would have excused, if this wild fit of passion had caused her less surprise—a surprise that she had not yet got over. Passive and docile183, she had consented to her marriage simply from a desire to settle down, and she was at a loss to understand such an outburst of jealousy about a former error which she repented184.
She watched her husband, going and coming, turning furiously round, as she would have watched a wolf, or an[Pg 24] animal of some other species. What was the matter with him? There were so many husbands without anger. The thing that terrified her was to perceive the brute, whose presence she had suspected for three years, from certain sullen185 growls186, at this moment unchained, mad and ready to bite. What could she say to him to avert187 a misfortune?
At each turn he came near the bed before her. She awaited him there, and had sufficient courage to address him.
"My dear, listen," said she.
But he heard not. He went back to the other end of the room, like a bit of straw beaten about in a storm.
"What shall I do? What shall I do?" he continued asking.
At last she seized him by the wrist, and retained him a minute.
"My dear, listen," she said. "You know it was I who refused to go to Doinville. I should never have gone there again. Never! Never! It is you I love."
"Look here," he answered, "if I am to live, I must kill the other! I must kill him!—kill him!"
His voice rose louder. He repeated the word, erect188, grown taller, as if this utterance, in bringing him to a resolution, also brought him calm. He ceased speaking. He walked slowly to the table, and there, with a gesture of indifference looked at the knife, whose shimmering blade was wide open. He closed, and put it in his pocket. Then, with his arms swinging at his sides, his eyes lost in space, he remained at the same place thinking. Obstacles that presented themselves to some plan he was elaborating in his brain, caused two great wrinkles to appear on his forehead. To get the better of his difficulty, he went and opened the window, standing before it with his face in the chilly189 air of twilight190. His wife in another fright stood up behind him; and, not daring to question him, waited with her face to the expansive sky, endeavouring to guess what was passing in that hard skull191.
[Pg 25]
In the falling shades of night, the distant houses stood out black, and a violescent mist clouded the vast site of the station. The deep cutting seemed as if smothered192 in dust, particularly in the direction of Batignolles, and the ironwork of the Pont de l'Europe began to fade away. Towards Paris a final gleam of daylight whitened the windows of the great iron marquees, but within they became densely193 obscure. Suddenly one saw a glitter of sparks. The men were lighting195 the gas-lamps along the platforms. Here a great white spot was formed by the lantern on the engine of the Dieppe train, crowded with passengers. The doors of the compartments were already closed, and the driver only awaited the order of the assistant station-master on duty, to start. But some hindrance196 had occurred. The red signal of the pointsman closed the line, while a small locomotive came and picked up a few carriages, which a defective197 man?uvre had left behind.
Trains flew along without intermission, in the increasing darkness, over the complicated network of rails, threading their way through lines of carriages standing motionless on sidings. One started for Argenteuil, another for Saint Germain. A very long train arrived from Cherbourg. Signals succeeded one another, accompanied by whistles and blasts of the horn. Lights appeared on every side, one by one: red, green, yellow, white. There seemed to be a regular confusion at this troubled hour when day glides198 into night, and it looked as if a tremendous smash would ensue. But everything passed on. The trains brushed by each other, detaching themselves from the entanglement199, in a smooth, creeping motion that could only be perceived indistinctly in the deep crepuscule. But the red light of the pointsman was effaced200, the Dieppe train blew its whistle, and rolled off. A few drops of rain began to fall from the wan65 sky. It was going to be a wet night.
When Roubaud turned round, it was with a face cloudy[Pg 26] and obstinate, as if overcast201 by the shadow of this night that was drawing in. He had made up his mind. His plan was formed. In the vanishing darkness, he looked at the cuckoo clock, and exclaimed aloud:
"Twenty minutes past five!"
He was astounded202; one hour, barely one hour, and so much to do! It seemed to him that they had been devouring one another there for weeks.
"Twenty minutes past five!" he muttered. "We shall have enough time."
Séverine, without daring to ask a question, continued following him with her anxious eyes. She saw him rummage203 in the cupboard, and bring out some notepaper, a small bottle of ink, and a pen.
"What!" she exclaimed. "Are you going to write a letter? To whom?"
"To him. Sit down."
And, as she instinctively204 drew away from the chair, ignoring as yet what he was about to exact from her, he brought her back, and weighed her down so heavily as he seated her at the table, that she remained there.
"Write this: 'Leave to-night by the 6.30 express, and do not show yourself before you arrive at Rouen.'"
She held the pen, but her hand trembled. Her fright increased at the thought of all the unknown gaping205 before her in those two simple lines. And she had the courage to raise her head, and say in a pleading tone:
"What are you going to do, my dear? I beg you to tell me."
He only repeated, in his loud, inexorable voice:
"Write, write!"
Then, with his eyes on her eyes, without anger, without ugly words, but with such obstinacy that she felt the weight crushing and annihilating206 her, he answered:
"What I am going to do, you will see, well enough. And[Pg 27] listen, what I am going to do, I mean you to do with me. In that way we shall remain together. There will be something binding207 between us."
He terrified her. She drew back again.
"No, no; I want to know!" she exclaimed. "I will not write without knowing."
Then, ceasing to speak, he took her hand—the small, delicate hand of a child, and pressed it in his iron fist, with the continuous pressure of a vice28, until he almost crushed it. He was driving his will into her flesh with the pain. She uttered a cry. All her spirit was broken, all her will surrendered. Ignorant creature as she had remained, in her passive gentleness, she could but obey. Instrument of love, instrument of death.
"Write, write!" he repeated again.
And she wrote painfully, with her poor, sore hand.
"That's all right; you are very good," said he, when he had the letter. "Now tidy the place up a bit, and get everything ready. I'll come back and fetch you."
He was quite calm. He arranged the bow of his tie before the looking-glass, put on his hat, and took himself off. She heard him double-lock the door, and remove the key. Night was drawing in more and more. For an instant she remained seated, her ear catching208 every sound outside. A continual, low whine209 came from the adjoining room in occupation of the newspaper woman: no doubt a little dog forgotten by its mistress. Below, in the apartment of the Dauvergnes, the piano had become silent. There was now a merry clatter210 of stewpans and crockery. The two little housekeepers212 were busy in their kitchen, Claire looking after a mutton stew211, Sophie picking a salad. And Séverine, prostrated213, listened to their laughter in the frightful distress of this falling night.
At a quarter past six, the locomotive of the Havre express, issuing from the Pont de l'Europe, was switched on to its[Pg 28] train and there secured. Owing to the metals being occupied, they had been unable to lodge7 this train under the marquee of the main lines. It waited in the open air beside a prolongation of the platform forming a sort of narrow jetty, in the gloom of an inky sky, where the poorly furnished row of gas lamps displayed but a line of smoky stars.
A shower had just ceased, leaving behind a trace of icy dampness spread over this vast uncovered space, which the mist threw back as far as the pale glimmers214 on the fa?ades in the Rue de Rome. This immense, dreary215 expanse, bathed in water, here and there studded with a gory216 light, was broken up by opaque217 lumps, engines, and solitary carriages, parts of trains in repose on the shunting lines. And from the depths of this sheet of darkness came sounds,—giant-like respirations, breathless with fever, whistles resembling the piercing shrieks218 of women, distant, lamentable219 blasts of horns mingled with a rumble220 in the adjoining streets. Orders were shouted out to add on a carriage. The engine of the express stood motionless, losing by a valve a great jet of steam, which ascended into all this obscurity to spread into small clouds and sprinkle the boundless221 veil of mourning drawn across the sky with white tears.
At twenty minutes past six, Roubaud and Séverine appeared. She had just returned the key to Mother Victoire, as she passed by the lavatory, near the waiting-rooms. And Roubaud, impatient and blunt, his hat on the back of his head, urged her on, after the fashion of a husband with no time to lose, who is being delayed by his wife; while she, with her veil drawn tight over her face, advanced slowly as if broken down with fatigue222.
Joining the flood of passengers streaming along the platform, they followed the line of carriages, on the look-out for an empty first-class compartment129. The footway became alive with porters rolling trucks of luggage to the van at the head of the train. An inspector223 was busy finding seats for a[Pg 29] numerous family, the assistant station-master on duty, with his signal lantern in his hand, glanced at the couplings, to see that the spreaders had been properly screwed up. And Roubaud, having at length found an empty compartment, was about to assist Séverine to get in, when he perceived M. Vandorpe, the head-station-master, strolling along in company with M. Dauvergne, his deputy-chief of the main lines, both watching the man?uvre connected with the carriage that was being added to the train. Roubaud, exchanging greetings with them, found it necessary to stop and have a chat.
First of all they spoke of the business with the sub-prefect, which had terminated to the satisfaction of everyone. Then the conversation turned to an accident that had happened in the morning at Havre, the news having come by telegraph. A locomotive, called La Lison, which on Thursday and Saturday took the 6.30 express, had broken its connecting-rod, just as the train entered the station; and the repairs would give two days' holiday to Jacques Lantier, the driver, who came from the same part of the country as Roubaud, and to his fireman, Pecqueux, the husband of Mother Victoire.
Séverine remained standing before the door of the compartment, while her husband affected224 great freedom of mind in conversation with these gentlemen, raising his voice and laughing. But there came a shock, and the train recoiled225 a few yards. It was the locomotive, driving back the first carriages to the one that had just been added on, the No. 293, so as to have a reserved coupé. And Henri Dauvergne, the son, who accompanied the train as headguard, having recognised Séverine through her veil, had prevented her from receiving a knock from the wide-open door, by pulling her away without ceremony. Then, excusing himself, smiling, very amiable, he explained that the coupé was for one of the directors of the company, who had sent to ask for it half an hour before the time for the train to start. She gave a little, senseless laugh, and he ran off to attend to his work.
[Pg 30]
The clock marked 6.27. Three minutes more. Roubaud, who was watching the doors of the waiting-rooms in the distance, while chatting with the station-master, suddenly left the latter to return to Séverine. But the carriage having moved back, they had to make their way to the empty compartment a few paces off. Roubaud pushed his wife along, and with an effort of the wrist, made her get into the carriage; while she, in her anxious docility226, looked instinctively behind her, to see what was going on.
A passenger behind time had just arrived, carrying only a rug in his hand. He had the broad collar of his blue top-coat turned up, and the rim35 of his bowler227 hat brought down so low over his eyebrows that nothing could be seen of his face, in the vacillating gaslight, but a bit of white beard. M. Vandorpe and M. Dauvergne advanced and followed the passenger, notwithstanding his evident desire to avoid being seen. He only greeted them three carriages further on, when in front of the reserved coupé, in which he hurriedly took a seat. It was the President. Séverine, in a tremble, sank down on a seat, her husband bruised228 her arm in his grasp, as if in a final act of taking possession of her, exulting229, now that he was certain of doing the thing he had thought out in his mind.
A minute later the half hour would strike. A newspaper seller stubbornly offered the evening editions, a few passengers still strolled along the platform finishing cigarettes. But all took their seats. The inspectors230 could be heard coming from both ends of the train, closing the doors. And Roubaud, who had met with the disagreeable surprise of perceiving a sombre form occupying a corner in the compartment which he had thought empty, no doubt a woman in mourning, who remained mute and motionless, could not restrain an exclamation of real anger, when the door opened again, and an inspector pushed in a stout231 man and a stout woman, who flopped232 down on a seat, gasping233.
[Pg 31]
They were about to start. The very fine rain had recommenced, drowning the vast, dark expanse, which was crossed incessantly234 by trains that presented nothing distinguishable but a moving line of small, bright windows. Green lights had been lit, a few lanterns danced on a level with the ground; and there was nothing else, nothing but black immensity, where alone appeared the marquees of the main lines, pale with a dim reflex of gas. All had disappeared, even the sounds had become muffled. The roar of the engine, opening its exhaust pipes, to let out a whirling wave of white steam, alone could be heard. A cloud ascended, unrolling like the winding-sheet of an apparition235, and divided by dense194 black smoke springing from some invisible source. The sky was once more obscured, a volume of soot236 flew over nocturnal Paris, ablaze237 with luminosity.
Then the assistant station-master on duty, raised his lantern for the engine-driver to inquire if the line was free. Two whistles were heard; and away, near the box of the pointsman, the red light vanished, to be succeeded by a white one. The headguard, standing at the door of his van, awaited the order to start, which he transmitted. The driver gave a long whistle, and opening the regulator, set the locomotive moving. They were off. At first the motion was imperceptible, then the train rolled along. Darting238 under the Pont de l'Europe, it plunged towards the Batignolles tunnel. All that could be seen of it were the three lights behind, the red triangle looking like gaping wounds. For a few seconds longer, it could be followed in the chilling darkness of night. Now it flew on its way, and nothing now could stop this train, launched at full speed. It disappeared.
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收听单词发音
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1
crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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2
cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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3
stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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4
impasse
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| n.僵局；死路 | |
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5
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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6
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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7
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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8
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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9
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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10
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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11
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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12
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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13
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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14
gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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15
severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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16
deviated
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| v.偏离，越轨( deviate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17
encumbering
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| v.妨碍，阻碍，拖累( encumber的现在分词 ) | |
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18
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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21
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
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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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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25
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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26
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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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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30
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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31
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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32
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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33
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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34
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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35
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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36
flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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37
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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38
walnut
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| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
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39
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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40
peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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41
sardines
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| n. 沙丁鱼 | |
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42
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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43
verging
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| 接近，逼近（verge的现在分词形式） | |
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44
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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45
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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46
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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47
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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48
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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49
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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50
innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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51
wedded
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|
| adj.正式结婚的；渴望…的，执著于…的v.嫁，娶，（与…）结婚( wed的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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53
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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54
promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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55
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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56
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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57
levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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58
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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60
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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61
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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62
supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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63
peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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64
raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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65
wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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66
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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67
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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68
candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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69
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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70
awakened
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|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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71
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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72
ransacked
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| v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
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73
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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74
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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75
buffers
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| 起缓冲作用的人（或物）( buffer的名词复数 )； 缓冲器； 减震器； 愚蠢老头 | |
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76
hearty
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|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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77
enraptured
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| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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79
chatter
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|
| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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80
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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81
embroidered
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|
| adj．绣花的 | |
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82
supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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83
wigging
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| n.责备，骂，叱责 | |
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84
forth
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|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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85
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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86
drawn
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|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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87
stint
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|
| v.节省，限制，停止；n.舍不得化，节约，限制；连续不断的一段时间从事某件事 | |
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88
courageous
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|
| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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89
briefly
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|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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90
penance
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|
| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
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91
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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92
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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93
chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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94
widower
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| n.鳏夫 | |
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95
retired
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|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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96
recollect
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|
| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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97
prematurely
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|
| adv.过早地，贸然地 | |
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98
formerly
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|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
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99
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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100
rosy
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|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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101
gratitude
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|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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102
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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103
lavatory
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| n.盥洗室，厕所 | |
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104
gratuities
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| n.报酬( gratuity的名词复数 )；小账；小费；养老金 | |
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105
appeased
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| 安抚，抚慰( appease的过去式和过去分词 )； 绥靖（满足另一国的要求以避免战争） | |
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106
dawdled
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|
| v.混（时间）( dawdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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108
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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109
acting
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|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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110
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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111
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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112
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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113
displease
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| vt.使不高兴，惹怒；n.不悦，不满，生气 | |
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114
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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115
extolled
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| v.赞颂，赞扬，赞美( extol的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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116
displeases
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| 冒犯，使生气，使不愉快( displease的第三人称单数 ) | |
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117
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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118
entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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119
penetrating
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|
| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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120
fig
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| n.无花果(树) | |
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121
twitch
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| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
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122
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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123
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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124
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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125
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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126
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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127
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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128
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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129
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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130
compartments
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| n.间隔( compartment的名词复数 )；（列车车厢的）隔间；（家具或设备等的）分隔间；隔层 | |
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131
tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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132
ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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133
effacing
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| 谦逊的 | |
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134
shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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135
ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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136
imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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137
paralysis
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| n.麻痹(症)；瘫痪(症) | |
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138
annulled
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| v.宣告无效( annul的过去式和过去分词 )；取消；使消失；抹去 | |
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139
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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140
obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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141
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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142
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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143
retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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144
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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145
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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146
distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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147
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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148
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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149
haphazard
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| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
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150
flip
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| vt.快速翻动；轻抛；轻拍；n.轻抛；adj.轻浮的 | |
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151
hissed
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|
| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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152
intelligible
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|
| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
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153
accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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154
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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155
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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156
frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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157
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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158
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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159
avowal
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| n.公开宣称，坦白承认 | |
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160
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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161
infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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162
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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163
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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164
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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165
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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166
rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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167
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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168
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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169
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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170
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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171
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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172
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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173
vertiginous
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| adj.回旋的；引起头晕的 | |
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174
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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175
appeasing
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| 安抚，抚慰( appease的现在分词 )； 绥靖（满足另一国的要求以避免战争） | |
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176
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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177
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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178
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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179
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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180
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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181
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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182
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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183
docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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184
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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185
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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186
growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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187
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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188
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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189
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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190
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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191
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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192
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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193
densely
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| ad.密集地；浓厚地 | |
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194
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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195
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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196
hindrance
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| n.妨碍，障碍 | |
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197
defective
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| adj.有毛病的，有问题的，有瑕疵的 | |
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198
glides
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| n.滑行( glide的名词复数 )；滑音；音渡；过渡音v.滑动( glide的第三人称单数 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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199
entanglement
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| n.纠缠，牵累 | |
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200
effaced
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| v.擦掉( efface的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；超越；使黯然失色 | |
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201
overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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202
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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203
rummage
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| v./n.翻寻，仔细检查 | |
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204
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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205
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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206
annihilating
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| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的现在分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
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207
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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208
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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209
whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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210
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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211
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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212
housekeepers
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| n.（女）管家( housekeeper的名词复数 ) | |
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213
prostrated
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| v.使俯伏，使拜倒( prostrate的过去式和过去分词 )；（指疾病、天气等）使某人无能为力 | |
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214
glimmers
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| n.微光，闪光( glimmer的名词复数 )v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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215
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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216
gory
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| adj.流血的；残酷的 | |
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217
opaque
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| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
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218
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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219
lamentable
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| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
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220
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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221
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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222
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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223
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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224
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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225
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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226
docility
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| n.容易教，易驾驶，驯服 | |
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227
bowler
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| n.打保龄球的人，（板球的）投（球）手 | |
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228
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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229
exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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230
inspectors
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| n.检查员( inspector的名词复数 )；（英国公共汽车或火车上的）查票员；（警察）巡官；检阅官 | |
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232
flopped
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| v.（指书、戏剧等）彻底失败( flop的过去式和过去分词 )；（因疲惫而）猛然坐下；（笨拙地、不由自主地或松弛地）移动或落下；砸锅 | |
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233
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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234
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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235
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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236
soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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237
ablaze
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| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
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238
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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