In fact, the prosperity and good nature were so general that once or twice Helen and I slipped away to look at little houses in the suburban4 country. We found the very thing we wanted at a small village in Hertfordshire, not far from St. Albans. It was a modern house, but it had a red-tiled roof and a pleasant garden of its own. "Ten minutes from the station," the agent said. He was a brisk walker. Helen went into raptures6 over the interior. She counted up seven bedrooms, four on the second, three above. "Just the right number," she announced. It was a surprise to me that seven bedrooms were our lucky quota7. I was rather vague about bedrooms, never having thought out how many we should need. Downstairs there was a sitting-room8, a dining-room, another room, the kitchen, and what the agent, once more, referred to as "the usual offices." There was a porcelain9 bath, so shiny and white that had we had any money the matter would have been settled then and there.
We went back to Kensington with the news of our discovery. After hearing the price—for the property was a freehold—my father inquired if it was actually what Helen and I really wanted. We assured him it was.
"Very well," my father overwhelmed us by saying; "if you want it, you shall have it."
He and my mother, it appeared, were going to Paris for a year, partly for the sake of my sister's education. They had already decided10 to give up the Kensington house, leaving Helen and me on our own. Our plans fitted in with theirs.
"You may call the house a belated wedding present," my father said.
In due time the agent and solicitors11 from far and near brought their endless papers, my father wrote out a check, we all signed our names a great many times, and the house was ours. Nor did my father's generosity12 stop there. Another check was handed to Helen. My father told her to furnish the house as well as she could with it. That evening Helen and I sat up half the night, making out lists of things. I wrote them down and Helen thought them out. Pots and pans seemed extraordinarily13 numerous. We were interrupted only by the younger Miss Helen demanding nourishment14.
For the next two weeks we trudged15 up and down Tottenham Court Road shopping. Such discussions and arguments as Helen had with shop assistants; such checking of catalogues and comparing of prices! I suggested getting a lump price on the whole thing from one shop, thus simplifying the process. My commonsense16 suggestion was emphatically vetoed. It simply wasn't done that way—not when one furnished a house. I rather liked to sit on the edge of a counter and listen to Helen bullying17 young shopmen. I marvelled18 at her persistence19, to say nothing of her obstinacy20 in getting them around to her demands. She accepted no provisos and exceptions. The daily struggle would have worn me out; she returned, to it fresh each morning, armed at all points cap-a-pie. Each evening we laid plans for the action of the following day. We were buying the minimum of furniture; the rest we hoped to pick up second-hand21, old cottage tables and the like. We did, as a matter of fact, make one or two by-excursions down the Fulham Road to see the antique shops. We found the owners of these shops, however, too canny22 for our purposes. They fancied that Helen and I were American tourists and stuck their prices up accordingly.
The family listened with obvious amusement, during dinner each night, to our adventures and progress. They offered no advice, nor did we seek any, for we wanted to do it alone. Occasionally Helen and my mother conferred over the contents of the kitchen. Not everything bore the same name as in America. Helen had to ask what the English equivalents were.
Coming out of Kettner's one day in Soho, I observed a fascinating row of copper23 sauce-pans hanging in a smelly little French shop. I made Helen's growing equipment a present of this addition. "You can do me a poussin sauté, gran'mère, en casserole," I explained. It was Helen's turn to look a little vague.
We set the first of October as the date on which we hoped to move in. We were having the walls done and a kitchen range installed. Time was no object whatever to the group of men who had taken over these two jobs.
"Probably," I said to Helen, "they are enjoying a summer in the country."
"I hope they don't remain over for the hunting," she answered, thereby24 proving that she had begun to read Punch to some purpose.
The day actually did come at last. We sent off one van load from Kensington, said good-bye until next Sunday to the family, bundled nurse and the baby into a one-horse omnibus, and, accompanied by Chitty as general handy man, drove off for Euston. Our village was on the London and Northwestern.
We no longer had the trained nurse, of course, but a plain ordinary everyday nurse, who, according to Helen, was most unscientific. Helen had been reading up in that abominable25 book on the horrors of babies. I wanted to show baby the horse, but Helen informed me the child was as yet quite unable to appreciate the privilege.
All this by the way. We were more excited over the journey to our new home than we had been on our wedding-day. We were now definitely for ourselves.
"No one to care if I spill pipe ashes on the rugs," I said. I judged from Helen's reception of this that my illustration of liberty was not well-chosen. "I mean," I went on, to make amends28, "that you will be at home in your own house, able to do just as you like." This was clearly a much better example of my thought.
We went first class, because of the baby. Helen thought first-class carriages would have fewer germs in them. It had an added advantage: we had the compartment29 to ourselves, except for the nurse. Chitty went third.
At the station Chitty highly incensed30 the only porter by taking charge of all our luggage. In some miraculous31 fashion he also packed us all into one fly, seating himself beside the driver. We drove up to our new home in state, Helen and I hand in hand, the baby cooing from the nurse's shoulder.
Inside we found a solitary32 representative of the kitchen-range-and-decorating crew, who informed us that he had not as yet been able to "connect the range," but that this would certainly be accomplished33 in two or three days. Until then we could not build a fire in it or do any cooking. Helen and I sat down on our luggage for a counsel of war over the situation. Should we send nurse and the baby back to Kensington? It was Chitty who solved the problem.
"I beg pardon, sir," he said, touching34 his forelock, "but I could build a bit of fire in the back garden, sir, and do the cooking on that."
Helen and I leaped at the proposal. It was the very thing! Nurse made it evident she did not approve it. We overruled her, and I gave Chitty immediate35 instructions to prepare luncheon36. He took a box of matches and a frying pan and stepped outside.
Soon the vans arrived, for they had left town early in the morning. There also came a cook and a housemaid, engaged a month ago from a local employment agency. The cook's indignation at the condition of the range knew no bounds. She was not pacified37 by being shown Chitty hard at work in the garden. The smoke from his camp fire had already attracted the attention of two or three female neighbours. Helen's tact38 disposed of the cook for the time being. I went out to see how Chitty was getting along.
"What are we eating, Chitty?"
"Sausages and fried tomatoes, sir," he answered with the customary salute39.
"Mind you do enough for the lot of us," I instructed him.
"Very good, sir."
I carried a deal table into the dining room, for the regular furniture was mostly in a chaotic40 pyramid on the pavement in front. Helen found knives, forks, and plates. The housemaid appeared to be paralyzed by circumstances. She was of little or no assistance. So it was that, amid gales41 of laughter from Helen, we sat down to the first meal under our own roof.
"The devil of it all is," I philosophized to her, between bites, "that nothing in this world ever turns out as one has imagined it will. Now, the number of times we have pictured ourselves eating our first dinner in our own home—"
"But what oceans more fun it is, like this," Helen interrupted.
"There is a great deal in your point of view, lady with the nice eyes," I agreed, carving42 her a wedge of bread from a household loaf. "What do you think, littlest Helen?" I added, turning to the baby, who sat, a solemn spectator, on nurse's lap.
"Now, Ted5, please don't stir the baby up when she's being good," Helen cautioned. She always said that if I approached the child.
"When," I asked with mock irony43, "will my daughter reach such an age of discretion44 that I may be permitted to converse45 with her?"
"You are being silly, Ted. If you'll promise to carry her about afterwards until she stops howling, you can speak to her now."
"I refuse your terms, and repudiate46 the vile26 implied slander," I returned, winking47 at the younger Helen. I believe the child sided with me. I poured myself a glass of stout49 and solemnly drank the baby's health. She continued to stare at me, not displeased50.
"Ted, you dear idiot," exclaimed Helen, jumping up and kissing me in defiance51 of the nurse's presence.
"You have stout on your lips—serve you right," I said to the now retreating Helen. She scrubbed her face violently with a handkerchief no bigger than a postage stamp.
"Men are disgusting creatures."
"They are," I mused52; "yet women love them." I drank deep of the stout.
"Ted, I'll shake you if you don't behave." She made a series of cabalistic signs at me, which, I took it, had reference to nurse. "It's time for baby's nap."
"Coward woman," I ejaculated, "you are afraid of me."
"Will you walk up to the nursery and set up the baby's crib?"
"Not unless I am paid in advance."
Helen hastily dabbed53 a kiss on my cheek. "Now, Ted, please!"
"I obey, Omphale. Call in Chitty."
"Call him in yourself," was Helen's parting shot.
Chitty and I laboured some time setting up beds, beginning with the crib in the nursery. Though the heavens were to fall, the baby had to have a nap at precisely54 two o'clock every afternoon. We were interrupted once by Helen, who reported that cook, housemaid, and nurse alike had refused point blank to eat any of Chitty's cooking. It ended by our sending them all off to a public house, near the station, where food was obtainable.
"An ominous55 look-out until we get that range going," I growled56.
"I wish we had a Polish girl from Deep Harbor," was Helen's comment after her first run-in with English servants.
"I had rather have a Pole from Deep Harbor than an American from Warsaw," I amended57.
"That is nonsense, Ted," Helen said.
"It isn't, if you think it over," I replied.
Chitty and I resumed setting up beds. At the end of the first hour I paused. My face was moist.
"Chitty," I observed, "living is composed of a great many details. Take a bed, for example. You find them in lots of rooms, looking harmless enough. It is only when you analyze58 them, or, more correctly speaking, synthetize them—if that is, in fact, the word—that you realize their complexity59."
"Yessir," said Chitty. "It's 'ard work for a gentleman, I dare say."
"Then dare say so no longer. On with our task."
"Very good, sir."
Gradually we reached the top of the house and the end of the infernal job. Helen appeared again. "Do we have tea?" she asked.
"How long since is it, madam," I asked sternly, "that afternoon tea became a necessity in your life? Shall we tolerate this aping of foreign customs?"
"I can easily make the madam a cup of tea, sir," Chitty cut in, a shade of anxiety in his tone.
"Then let the madam have her tea," I answered, "since her throat burns."
"Ted," said Helen, as Chitty disappeared, "how am I going to have any discipline among the servants if you persist in making a damn fool of yourself in their presence?"
"A what, madam?" I inquired.
"A damn fool," said Helen firmly.
"You shall pay dear for that, madam," I exclaimed, seizing her. It was several minutes later that we went back to our dining room for tea, our arms about one another like a Bank holiday couple at Hampstead Heath.
Chitty provided a tin of tea, black as Cimmerian darkness. The furniture had by now been removed from the pavement and piled in smaller individual pyramids in each room.
"It looks absolutely hopeless, Ted," said Helen, shuddering60 over a taste of Chitty's tea, as well she might. "Shall we ever get settled?"
"I am so comfortable," I replied, "that it is a matter of complete indifference61 to me. Let's live as we are."
At this moment a surprise arrived. The family, whether suspecting the result of our first day's housekeeping, or out of sheer good will, had sent us a large hamper62 of food from Fortnum and Mason's. There was a bottle of champagne63 to give the final glow. No need for Chitty to cook any more that day. We summoned him from his tea. I verily believe he had consumed two quarts of that brew64 of his—proof positive that the British army is made of stern stuff, "hearts of oak and tummies of copper," Helen ventured.
"Sailors, my dear—for hearts of oak—not soldiers," I corrected.
"I'm right about the tummies," Helen rebutted65 stubbornly....
"Chitty," I commanded, "this room must be set right. The madam dines here tonight."
"Very good, sir." Chitty saluted66, not a trace of a smile visible. In half an hour he had done wonders. Its normal appearance three quarters emerged from the confusion left behind by the van men.
We set the hamper in the centre of our gate-legged table, Helen's especial pride. Real ones were even then becoming hard to pick up. Helen lighted the candles herself, refusing to hear of gas or of assistance. There followed a feast. Cold pheasant, boned turkey, fonds d'artichaut, bottled asparagus d'Argenteuil, cakes and wine jellies, with champagne to top it all off. We made our own coffee over a spirit lamp.
With the third glass of champagne I was all for bringing the younger Helen down from the nursery, as we called it, to respond to her health. On this point her mother was immovable. The child's slumber67 was not disturbed.
"Madam"—I arose, addressing my wife—"once more permit me to point out to you that this is not at all like the first dinner we once planned."
"I think you have had enough champagne, Ted," was the woman's irrelevant68 response. "Let's give the last glass to Chitty."
"An excellent idea and a kindly69 thought, worthy70 of your woman's heart."
Once more Chitty was summoned. His eyes stared amazement71 when I poured him a glass of champagne.
"Thank you, sir. Thank you, madam," and he tossed it off with a neat jerk of his head. Meanwhile Helen made him up a heaping plate of food from the hamper.
"Thank you, madam."
He went out, carrying his ration27 carefully. We finished our coffee sitting on a rug before the fire, Helen tucked up comfortably against me.
We made heroic efforts all the week to get the house settled by Sunday. Chitty came out by train each morning to perform prodigies72 of strength in placing furniture. Our eagerness to be ready by Sunday was owing to the fact that we had invited the family to spend the day with us. Helen was extremely nervous about the critical eye she knew my mother would cast over our housekeeping. Poor Helen had never kept house before, let alone in a land where many ways and customs were still strange to her. We drew up the plan for dinner a dozen times, trying to include things that would please my mother's taste and rejecting everything we feared was doubtful.
We explored the shops in the village, choosing a butcher, a grocer, a greengrocer, and a fishmonger after minute investigation73. There was also the question of the baby's milk. The milkman, who took Helen's searching inquiries74 rather light-heartedly, finally told her he would "earmark" one special cow for her.
"What on earth did he mean by that, Ted?" she said, as we pursued our way up the High Street. "Will he brand the cow in the ear so he can tell her from the others?"
I leaned against a convenient lamp-post to laugh. Helen grew quite indignant.
"Ted, you are making an exhibition of yourself in the public street!"
"I'm sorry, dear," I apologized. "But you conjured75 up a vision in my mind of that good English yoeman swinging on to his broncho in the early dawn to ride forth76 and rope your cow, while the Mexican peons dash up with the branding irons—and all for a cow's ear."
"It may all be very funny," Helen snorted, "but I really think baby's milk is more important than your silly idea of humour."
It was not often that we failed to agree on a laugh.
"What is the joke, Ted?"
"The milkman, my dear, has been reading the speeches of the Chancellor77 of the Exchequer78. He is quoting a favourite phrase—that a certain item of revenue has been earmarked for a particular purpose. Thus he thought it good to earmark his cows. It's awful, my dear, when a joke has to be explained."
"I don't think it was much of a joke, now you have explained it," said Helen.
"Probably not," I agreed. "But you put it to a very severe test. It would have to be a remarkable79 joke to survive an analytical80 lecture."
"You are as clumsy as an elephant this morning, Ted."
We left the joke at that.
By Sunday we had established some sort of order and routine in the house. Not all the curtains were up, an omission81 which gave Helen distress82. Curtains up, it appeared, was one of the first tests of housekeeping ability. There was no rug for the dining room. Otherwise we felt we had done rather well, as we surveyed our preparations. From now on we should have to manage without Chitty, who was to return Monday to his work at the Willesden factory.
Taking stock of our situation, we agreed that the sitting room would pass inspection83. There was not much furniture in it, because we hoped later to pick up one or two good bits for it. It had, nevertheless, curtains and comfortable chairs. The extra room downstairs was our study, with all our books—a decent lot, too—around the walls. It also contained a good mahogany desk with over-shelves—but there were no curtains here. The dining room was likewise nearly done, save for the rug. Upstairs our bedroom and the nursery were complete; only the guest room remained to be furnished. The odd bedroom was to be turned into a laboratory for me; as yet nothing had been done to it. On the top floor the cook and housemaid lived in solitary state with an extra empty room between them. Such was the result of our final look around before the family was due.
They arrived about twelve, driven up by the station fly, which worthily84 upheld all the conservative traditions of village cabs. Napoleon might well have driven from the field of Waterloo in it.
Frances was the first to rush forward to greet us, dashing into the house like a Newfoundland puppy that has just been let off its leash85. My father and mother followed more sedately86. Helen took my mother upstairs, while Frances was running all over the place on her own, poking87 into everything. My father sat down in the study and got out his pipe.
"Satisfied, Ted?" he asked, as he began to consume matches.
"Yes, sir," I answered. "I can't imagine what more one could want."
"End of the chapter, eh, Ted?"
"With the addition of 'and they lived happily ever afterwards.'"
My father took a wire and ran it through the stem of his pipe.
"About the future which you have just mentioned. Your mother and sister will be on the Continent probably for several years. I shall be with them a good deal of the time. I am going to make you a director in the company to look after my interests and your own. That will not, however, take much of your time. You'll be free therefore, to do whatever you wish. I am definitely putting you and Helen on your own feet. If you need advice or help, you know where to turn—otherwise, go ahead and run your own show."
Any reply I might have made was cut short by Helen's entrance with my mother. My father joined us in a solemn visit to the whole house. The nursery received the closest inspection. Nurse was holding a very pink and well scrubbed baby, dressed in her Sunday best. The crib was ordered nearer the window; that was the only flaw discovered in what Helen and I felt to be the crucial room. We breathed easier, once by that. But a difficulty developed over the proposed laboratory. My mother said it was "criminal"—that was her very word—to have chemical fumes88 on the same floor with a baby's nursery. The rooms actually adjoined one another, making it much worse. The laboratory, if it was necessary at all to have such a nonsensical mess in a house, would have to be in the unoccupied room above. How Helen could in any event tolerate such a thing was beyond my mother's power to see. I was liable to burn the house down at any moment. If we were incapable89 of thinking for ourselves, we might at least occasionally think of the baby. The whole concluded with a peroration90 on my lack of any sense of responsibility. That had always been the curse of the Jevons side of the family. We humbly91 expressed our eagerness to put the laboratory upstairs.
"Why the devil did I tell her about that blasted laboratory?" I whispered to Helen as we went down into the garden. Outside we paused before the spacious92 kennel93 inhabited by the genial94 Sir Leonidas de la Patte Jaune. His welcome spread from ear to ear.
"This spot has been especially earmarked for Leonidas," I said to my mother, with a wink48 at Helen.
"Ted, what absurd words you use at times!" my mother said. "I can't see what attraction there is about that wretched animal. It's a loathsome96 yellow cur. If you are going to have a dog, for God's sake get a good one."
"He matches our family crest97, mother. On a field vert, a hound souriant, or, enkennelé."
"I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about, Ted. You are always a bore, like all the Jevonses, when you try to be amusing. The crest is certainly not a yellow dog."
There had been no time, as yet, to do anything to the garden. We stood, therefore, and talked of possibilities rather than of facts. We hoped to afford a tennis court by spring. There was just enough length, with room along the sides for flowers and a vegetable patch at the back. By the dining room window we were meditating98 a pergola.
"Amateur flowers never grow, or, if they do, they never blossom," announced my mother.
The housemaid rang the dinner gong. Helen and I felt we had now to face the supreme99 test. Our first dinner party! Helen was probably nervous as we sat down, and I rather wished I knew more about carving. My dear wife, not thinking of me, had ordered ducklings. The soup passed off very well. I had cheated there and brought some out from a caterer's in town.
"Helen makes rather good soup," I remarked, while the lady of the house cast me an imploring100 look from the other end of the table.
"It's the best soup I ever tasted," affirmed my father, wishing to be tactful. "Very clever of you, Helen."
Helen blushed crimson101, but sat silent.
"You got it at Hickson's," said my mother calmly. "We often have it at home, although no one notices it."
"Ted—" Helen began. My mother cut her short.
"You need not apologize for Ted, Helen. I knew him before you did."
"May I offer an apology for hitting Helen with my boomerang?"
"Do," my mother replied. "It is exceedingly unusual for a Jevons to be aware he owes one."
The ducklings arrived at this point, and I arose to get a firmer grip upon them than was possible from a chair. Delicately I made the first incision102, only to discover that ducklings do not respond to delicate treatment. I worked in silence for a time upon number one. Although division into his integral factors accumulated many apparent units, there seemed surprisingly little of him to serve when thus reduced to his lowest terms. Frances giggled103.
"You look so funny, Ted," she explained, with sisterly devotion.
"For that you shall have a drum-stick," I retorted.
"I can see nothing funny in watching good food being ruined," my mother said encouragingly. The housemaid standing104 at my elbow with a plate ready made me nervous.
"It is a curious fact," my mother went on, in a reminiscent mood, "that no Jevons could ever carve. They are the most incompetent105 men that ever existed."
As I knew for a certainty that the only two Jevonses on earth my mother had ever seen were my father and myself, I wondered whether she was drawing on state documents or simply making a sweeping106 generalization107 from two examples. Something told me, however, not to argue this point.
"A duckling," I said, "is an act of God. Steamer tickets and insurance policies specially95 provide for no liability for such. Even a Jevons is powerless in the face of the handiwork of Providence108."
"Sit down, Ted, and let me finish. It makes me ill to see you messing up those ducklings," my mother said. Willingly I changed places. To my secret joy she splashed some gravy109 on the table cloth. I tried to kick Helen under the table, but all I did was to make an awful crash against one of the complicated gate legs. My mother looked fixedly110 at me. I did not move a muscle of my face.
"Sorry," I murmured. "I haven't room for my feet."
The fragments of the two ducklings were at last distributed to my mother's satisfaction. The remainder of the dinner was eaten without caustic111. Indeed, my mother commended the Burgundy, bought for her particular gratification.
It was, if the truth must be told, with mixed feelings that Helen and I sat down after saying good-bye to the family that evening. The day had been trying for Helen, for it was like being on dress parade before a critic whose motives112 were kindly, but who was perhaps all the more eager, for that reason, to find mistakes. Never before this week had the child kept house or entertained guests of her own. She could hardly be blamed for uttering a sigh of relief when it was all over. On the other hand, we neither of us knew when we should see any of the family again, for they were leaving England at once. Eager as we had been to be our own masters, we felt the isolation113 that was now to be ours as almost too literal a response to our prayers. Our circle of friends in town was neither large nor intimate; we had yet to test the resources of our village. Of one thing, however, time had made us absolutely certain. That certainty was concerning the stability of our love. Each week, each day made that firmer and more intense. We lived but for each other; we thought of nothing else....
"Well, Ted," Helen smiled at me, "there is one thing we can do now."
"What is that, dear?"
"Work. We have the leisure we have dreamed about. Let's use it. You shall begin writing your play in the morning." We went to bed very happy.
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prospering
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的现在分词 ) | |
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antagonistic
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| adj.敌对的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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raptures
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| 极度欢喜( rapture的名词复数 ) | |
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quota
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| n.（生产、进出口等的）配额，（移民的）限额 | |
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sitting-room
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porcelain
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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solicitors
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generosity
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extraordinarily
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nourishment
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| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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commonsense
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| adj.有常识的；明白事理的；注重实际的 | |
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bullying
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marvelled
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persistence
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obstinacy
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second-hand
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canny
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copper
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thereby
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abominable
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vile
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ration
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| n.定量(pl.)给养，口粮；vt.定量供应 | |
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amends
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| n. 赔偿 | |
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29
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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30
incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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31
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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32
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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34
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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35
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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36
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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37
pacified
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| 使（某人）安静( pacify的过去式和过去分词 )； 息怒； 抚慰； 在（有战争的地区、国家等）实现和平 | |
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38
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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39
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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40
chaotic
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| adj.混沌的，一片混乱的，一团糟的 | |
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41
gales
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| 龙猫 | |
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42
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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43
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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45
converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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46
repudiate
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| v.拒绝，拒付，拒绝履行 | |
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47
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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48
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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dabbed
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| （用某物）轻触( dab的过去式和过去分词 )； 轻而快地擦掉（或抹掉）； 快速擦拭； （用某物）轻而快地涂上（或点上）… | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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Amended
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| adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
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58
analyze
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| vt.分析，解析 (=analyse) | |
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complexity
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| n.复杂(性)，复杂的事物 | |
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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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hamper
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| vt.妨碍，束缚，限制；n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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brew
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| v.酿造，调制 | |
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rebutted
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| v.反驳，驳回( rebut的过去式和过去分词 )；击退 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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irrelevant
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| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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prodigies
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| n.奇才，天才（尤指神童）( prodigy的名词复数 ) | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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conjured
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| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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chancellor
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| n.(英)大臣；法官；(德、奥)总理；大学校长 | |
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exchequer
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| n.财政部；国库 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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analytical
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| adj.分析的；用分析法的 | |
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81
omission
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| n.省略，删节；遗漏或省略的事物，冗长 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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83
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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84
worthily
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| 重要地，可敬地，正当地 | |
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85
leash
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| n.牵狗的皮带，束缚；v.用皮带系住 | |
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sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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87
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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88
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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89
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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peroration
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| n.（演说等之）结论 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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92
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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93
kennel
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| n.狗舍，狗窝 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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96
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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97
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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99
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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100
imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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101
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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102
incision
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| n．切口，切开 | |
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103
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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105
incompetent
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| adj.无能力的，不能胜任的 | |
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106
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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107
generalization
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| n.普遍性，一般性，概括 | |
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108
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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109
gravy
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| n.肉汁；轻易得来的钱，外快 | |
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110
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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111
caustic
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| adj.刻薄的，腐蚀性的 | |
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112
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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113
isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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