To the great mass of City people; this August in question began in a normal enough fashion. To one little group of operators, however, and to the widening circle of brokers6, bankers, and other men of affairs whose interests were more or less involved with those of this group, it was a season of keen perturbation. A combat of an extraordinary character was going on—a combat which threatened to develop into a massacre7. Even to the operators who, unhappily for themselves, were principals in this fight, it was a struggle in the dark. They knew little about it, beyond the grimly-patent fact that they were battling for their very lives. The outer ring of their friends and supporters and dependents knew still less, though their rage and fears were perhaps greater. The “press” seemed to know nothing at all. This unnatural8 silence of the City's mouthpieces, usually so resoundingly clamorous9 upon the one side and the other when a duel10 is in progress, gave a sinister11 aspect to the thing. The papers had been gagged and blindfolded12 for the occasion. This in itself was of baleful significance. It was not a duel which they had been bribed13 to ignore. It was an assassination14.
Outwardly there was nothing to see, save the unofficial, bald statement that on August 1st, the latest of twelve fortnightly settlements in this stock, Rubber Consols had been bid for, and carried over, at 15 pounds for one-pound shares. The information concerned the public at large not at all. Nobody knew of any friend or neighbour who was fortunate enough to possess some of these shares. Readers here and there, noting the figures, must have said to themselves that certain lucky people were coining money, but very little happened to be printed as to the identity of these people. Stray notes were beginning to appear in the personal columns of the afternoon papers about a “Rubber King” of the name of Thorpe, but the modern exploitation of the world's four corners makes so many “kings” that the name had not, as yet, familiarized itself to the popular eye.
City men, who hear more than they read, knew in a general way about this “Rubber King.” He was an outsider who had come in, and was obviously filling his pockets; but it was a comforting rule that outsiders who did this always got their pockets emptied for them again in the long run. There seemed nothing about Thorpe to suggest that he would prove an exception to the rule. He was investing his winnings with great freedom, so the City understood, and his office was besieged15 daily by promoters and touts16. They could clean out his strong-box faster than the profits of his Rubber corner could fill it. To know such a man, however, could not but be useful, and they made furtive17 notes of his number in Austin Friars on their cuffs18, after conversation had drifted from him to other topics.
As to the Rubber corner itself, the Stock Exchange as a whole was apathetic19. When some of the sufferers ventured cautious hints about the possibility of official intervention20 on their behalf, they were laughed at by those who did not turn away in cold silence. Of the fourteen men who had originally been caught in the net drawn21 tight by Thorpe and Semple, all the conspicuous22 ones belonged to the class of “wreckers,” a class which does not endear itself to Capel Court.
Both Rostocker and Aronson, who, it was said, were worst hit, were men of great wealth, but they had systematically23 amassed24 these fortunes by strangling in their cradles weak enterprises, and by undermining and toppling over other enterprises which would not have been weak if they had been given a legitimate25 chance to live. Their system was legal enough, in the eyes alike of the law and of the Stock Exchange rules. They had an undoubted right to mark out their prey26 and pursue it, and bring it down, and feed to the bone upon it. But the exercise of this right did not make them beloved by the begetters and sponsors of their victims. When word first went round, on the last day of February, that a lamb had unexpectedly turned upon these two practised and confident wolves, and had torn an ear from each of them, and driven them pell-mell into a “corner,” it was received on all sides with a gratified smile.
Later, by fortnightly stages, the story grew at once more tragic27 and more satisfactory. Not only Rostocker and Aronson, but a dozen others were in the cul de sac guarded by this surprising and bloody-minded lamb. Most of the names were well-known as those of “wreckers.” In this category belonged Blaustein, Ganz, Rothfoere, Lewis, Ascher, and Mendel, and if Harding, Carpenter, and Vesey could not be so confidently classified, at least their misfortune excited no particular sympathy. Two other names mentioned, those of Norfell and Pinney, were practically unknown.
There was some surprise, however, at the statement that the old and respected and extremely conservative firm of Fromentin Bros. was entangled28 in the thing. Egyptian bonds, minor29 Levantine loans, discounts in the Arabian and Persian trades—these had been specialties30 of the Fromentins for many years. Who could have expected to find them caught among the “shorts” in Mexican rubber? It was Mexico, wasn't it, that these Rubber Consols purported31 to be connected with?
Thorpe's Company, upon its commercial merits, had not been considered at all by the gentlemen of the Stock Exchange, at the time of its flotation. Men vaguely32 and with difficulty recalled the fact of its prospectus33, when the “corner” in its shares was first talked about. They looked it up in their lists and files, later on, but its terms said nothing to them. Nobody discussed the value of the assets owned by this Company, or the probability of its paying a dividend—even when the price bid for its shares was making the most sensational34 upward leaps. How Thorpe stood with his shareholders35, or whether he had any genuine shareholders behind him at all, was seen by the keen eyes of Capel Court to be beside the question. Very likely it was a queer affair, if the truth were known—but at least it had substance enough in it to be giving the “wreckers” a lively time.
By the end of July it was understood that the fight was better worth watching than anything that had been seen in a long time. The only trouble was that there was so little to see. The papers said nothing. The sufferers were the reverse of garrulous36. The little red Scotchman, Semple, who was the visible avenging37 sword of the “corner,” was more imperturbably38 silent than anybody else. His fellow-members in the “House” watched him now, however, with a new respect. They discovered unsuspected elements of power in his thin, tight mouth, in the direct, cold glances of his brown-grey eyes, in the very way he carried his head and wore his hat. He came to be pointed39 out, and nodded about behind his back, more than anyone else in the “House,” and important men sought his acquaintance, with an awkward show of civility, who were notorious for their rude exclusiveness.
It might be, of course, that his “corner” would break under him at any fortnightly settlement, but already he had carried it much further than such things often went, and the planning of the coup40 had been beyond doubt Napoleonic.
Had this small sandy Scot planned it, or was he merely the weapon in Thorpe's hand? Both views had their supporters on the Exchange, but after the wrench41 of August 1st, when with an abrupt42 eighty-shilling rise the price of Rubber Consols stood at 15 pounds, and it was to be computed43 that Semple had received on that single day nearly 75,000 pounds in differences and “backwardation,” a story was set afloat which gave Thorpe the undivided credit of the invention. It was related as coming from his own lips that he had schemed it all out to be revenged upon a group of Jewish operators, against whom he had a grievance44. In confirmation45 of this tale, it was pointed out that, of the seven men still held pinned in the fatal “corner,” six were Jews—and this did, upon first glance, look significant. But then it was objected, upon reflection, that Blaustein and Ascher had both been permitted to make their escape, and this hardly justified46 the theory of an implacable anti-Semitic vendetta47. The objection seemed reasonable, but it was met in turn by the point that Blaustein and Ascher had been bled white, as Bismarck's phrase went, before they were released, whereas the five Christians48 had been liberated49 with relatively50 moderate fines. Upon the whole, a certain odour of the Judenhetze clung thereafter about the “corner” in Rubber Consols.
On an afternoon of the following week, Mr. Stormont Thorpe was alone in the Board Room of the offices in Austin Friars. He had risen from the great roller-topped desk over between the windows, and walked now with a lethargic51, tired step to and fro before the empty fireplace, yawning more than once, and stretching out his arms in the supreme52 gesture of fatigue53. After a dozen listless rounds, something occurred to him. He moved with a certain directness of purpose to the cabinet in the corner, unlocked it, and poured out for himself a tumbler of brandy and soda54. He drank it without a pause, then turned again, and began pacing up and down as before, his hands clasped behind him, his head bent55 in thought.
The intervening six months had effected visible changes in the outer man. One noted56 most readily that the face had grown fuller in its lower parts, and was far less browned than formerly57. The large, heavy countenance58, with its square jaws59 masked now under increased flesh, its beginnings of a double-chin, and its slightly flabby effect of pallor, was no longer lacking in individual distinction. It was palpably the visage of a dictator. The moustache had been cut down to military brevity, and the line of mouth below it was eloquent60 of rough power. The steady grey eyes, seemingly smaller yet more conspicuous than before, revealed in their glance new elements of secretiveness, of strategy supported by abundant and confident personal force.
The man himself seemed scarcely to have grown stouter61. He held himself more compactly, as it were; seemed more the master of all his physical expressions. He was dressed like a magnate who was also a person of taste. There was a flower in the lapel of his well-shaped frock-coat, and the rustle62 of his starched63 and spotless white waistcoat murmured pleasantly of refined toilets.
“The Marquis of Chaldon—and a gentleman, with him.”
The announcement, from a clerk who had noiselessly opened the door, imposed itself with decorum upon Thorpe's reverie.
“Who is the gentleman with him?” Thorpe began austerely64 to ask, after an instant's hesitation65. But this briefest of delays had brought the callers into plain view behind the clerk, and with a slight gesture the master assented67 to their entrance.
This large apartment was no longer called the Board Room by anybody. By tacit processes, it had become Mr. Thorpe's room. Not even the titular68 Chairman of the Company, the renowned69 and eminent70 Lord Chaldon, ex-Ambassador and ex-Viceroy, entered this chamber71 now with any assumption of proprietorship72 in it. No hint of a recollection that there were such things as the Company and the Board, or that he was nominally73 the head of both, expressed itself in his Lordship's demeanour as he advanced, his hand a little extended.
The noble Chairman was white of beard and hair, and extremely courteous74 of manner—a small, carefully-clad, gracious old gentleman, whose mild pink countenance had, with years of anxiety about ways and means, disposed itself in lines which produced a chronic75 expression of solicitude76. A nervous affection of the eyelids77 lent to this look, at intervals78, a beseeching79 quality which embarrassed the beholder80. All men had liked him, and spoken well of him throughout his long and hard-worked career. Thorpe was very fond of him indeed, and put a respectful cordiality into his grasp of the proffered82 hand. Then he looked, with a certain thinly-veiled bluntness of enquiry, past the Marquis to his companion.
“You were very kind to give me the appointment,” said Lord Chaldon, with a little purring gloss83 of affability upon the earnestness of his tone. “I wish very much to introduce to you my friend, my old friend I may say, Monsieur Alexandre Fromentin. We slept together under the same tent, in the Persian country beyond Bagdad—oh, it must have been quite forty years ago. We were youngsters looking to win our first spurs then—I in my line, he in his. And often since we have renewed that old friendship—at many different places—India, and Constantinople, and Egypt. I wish heartily84 to commend him to your—your kindness.”
Thorpe had perfunctorily shaken hands with the stranger—a tall, slender, sharp-faced, clean-shaven, narrow-shouldered man, who by these accounts of his years ought not to have such excessively black hair. He bowed in a foreign fashion, and uttered some words which Thorpe, though he recognized them as English in intent, failed to follow. The voice was that of an elderly man, and at a second glance there were plenty of proofs that he might have been older than the Marquis, out there in Persia, forty years ago. But Thorpe did not like old men who dyed their hair, and he offered his visitors chairs, drawn up from the table toward his desk, with a certain reserve of manner. Seating himself in the revolving85 chair at the desk itself, he put the tips of his fingers together, and looked this gentleman with the Continental86 name and experience in the face.
“Is there something you wish me to do?” he asked, passively facilitating the opening of conversation.
“Ah, my God! 'Something'!”—repeated the other, with a fluttering gesture of his hands over his thin, pointed knees—“everything, Mr. Thorpe!”
“That's a tolerably large order, isn't it?” Thorpe asked, calmly, moving a slow, inscrutable glance from one to the other of his callers.
“I could ask for nothing that would be a greater personal favour—and kindness”—Lord Chaldon interposed. His tone bore the stress of sincerity87.
“That means a great deal to me, as you know, my Lord,” replied Thorpe, “but I don't in the least understand—what is it that your friend wants?”
“Only that I shall not be buried in a bankrupt's grave,” the suppliant88 answered, with a kind of embittered89 eagerness of utterance90. “That I shall not see disgraced the honoured name that my father and his father bequeathed to my care!”
Thorpe's large, composed countenance betrayed a certain perplexity. “There must be a mistake,” he observed. “I don't even know this name of yours. I never heard it before.”
The other's mobile face twisted itself in a grimace91 of incredulity. He had a conspicuously92 wide mouth, and its trick of sidelong extension at this moment was very unpleasant. “Ah, Herr Je! He never heard it,” he ejaculated, turning nervously93 to the Marquis. “Would to the good God you never had!” he told Thorpe, with suppressed excitement.
Lord Chaldon, his own voice shaken a little, interposed with an explanation. “My friend is the head—the respected head—of the firm of Fromentin Brothers. I think you have—have dealings with them.”
Thorpe, after a furtive instant of bewilderment, opened his mouth. “Oh! I see,” he said. “I know what you mean now. With the French pronunciation, I didn't recognize the name. I've always heard it called 'Fromen'-tin' here in London. Oh, yes, of course—Fromen'tin Brothers.”
His lips shut tight again at this. The listeners had caught no helpful clue from the tone of his words. They exchanged a glance, and then M. Fromentin spoke81.
“Mr. Thorpe,” he began, slowly, with an obvious effort at self-repression. “It is a very simple story. Our house is an old one. My father's grandfather organized the finance of the commissariat of General Bonaparte in Egypt. He created the small beginnings of the carpet and rug importation from Asia Minor. His son, and in turn his son, followed him. They became bankers as well as importers. They helped very greatly to develop the trade of the Levant. They were not avaricious94 men, or usurers. It is not in our blood. Your Chairman, Lord Chaldon, who honours me so highly by calling me his friend—he will assure you that we have a good name in the East. Our banks have befriended the people, and never oppressed or injured them. For that reason—I will say perhaps for that reason—we have never become a very rich house. It is possible to name bankers who have made large fortunes out of Egypt. It was different with us. Lord Chaldon will tell you that of our own free will—my two brothers and I—of our own choice we consented to lose a fifth of all our possessions, rather than coin into gold by force the tears and blood of the wretched fellaheen.”
“Yes—I have never known a more honourable95 or humane96 action,” put in the Marquis, fervently97.
“And then my brothers die—Polydor, who lived mostly at Smyrna, and whose estate was withdrawn98 from the business by his widow, and Augustin, who lived here in London after 1870, and died—it is now six years ago. He left a son, Robert, who is my nephew, and my partner. He is now of an age—perhaps thirty years. He was a small child when he came to London—he has become more English than the English themselves. His activity and industry are very great; he forms plans of such magnitude and numbers that they would compel his grandfather to turn in his coffin99. I am in indifferent health. I live much at Homburg and Marienbad and at Cairo. Practically speaking, I have retired100 from business. There remain branches of our house—in several places—but the London house has become the centre of all things—and Robert has become the London house. This I make plain to your mind, do I, Mr. Thorpe?”
The other, with his chin sunk within the collar of his white waistcoat, and scrutinizing101 the narrator with a steadfast102 though impassive glance, made the faintest possible nod of assent66.
“I had great confidence in Robert,” the old man went on. His eyes were dimming with tears, and his voice quavered uncertainly. “His plans seemed wise, even if they risked more than formerly. The conditions of business are wholly altered since my youth—and it was best, I thought, to make Robert free to act under these conditions, which he understood much better than I could pretend to do. Thus it was that when he said it was necessary for Fromentin Brothers to belong to the Stock Exchange, I did not object. He was active and bold and clever, and he was in the thick of the fight. Therefore he should be the judge in all things. And that is our ruin. In the time of the South African excitement, he won a great deal of money. Then he lost it all and more. Then gambling103 began, and his fortunes went now up, now down, but always, as his books show to me now—sinking a little on the average. He grew more adventurous—more careless. He put many small counters upon different numbers on the table. You know what I mean? And in an accursed moment, because other gamblers were doing the same, he sold two thousand of your shares, without having them in his hands. Voila! He wishes now to put a bullet through his brain. He proposes that as the fitting end of Fromentin Freres.”
Thorpe, his chin on his breast, continued to regard the melancholy104 figure opposite with a moody105 eye. It seemed a long minute before he broke the tense silence by a sigh of discomfort106. “I do not discuss these things with anybody,” he said then, coldly. “If I had known who you were, I don't think you'd have got in.”
The Marquis of Chaldon intuitively straightened himself in his chair, and turned toward the speaker a glance of distressed107 surprise.
“Or no—I beg your pardon,” Thorpe hastened to add, upon the instant hint of this look—“that doesn't convey my meaning. Of course, our Chairman brings whom he pleases. His friends—as a matter of course—are our friends. What I should have said was that if this had been mentioned beforehand to me, I should have explained that it wasn't possible to discuss that particular business.”
“But—pardon me”—said Lord Chaldon, in a quiet, very gentle, yet insistent108 voice, which seemed now to recall to its listeners the fact that sovereigns and chancellors109 had in their day had attentive1 ears for its tones—“pardon me, but why should it not be possible?”
Thorpe frowned doubtfully, and shifted his position in his chair. “What could I say, if it were discussed?” he made vague retort. “I'm merely one of the Directors. You are our Chairman, but you see he hasn't found it of any use to discuss it with you. There are hard and fast rules about these things. They run their natural course. You are not a business man, my Lord——”
“Oh, I think I may be called a 'business man,'” interposed the nobleman, suavely110. “They would tell you so in Calcutta, I think, and in Cairo too. When one considers it, I have transacted111 a great deal of business—on the behalf of other people. And if you will permit me—I do not impute112 indirection, of course—but your remark seems to require a footnote. It is true that I am Chairman of the Board on which you are a Director—but it is not quite the whole truth. I as Chairman know absolutely nothing about this matter. As I understand the situation, it is not in your capacity as a Director that you know anything about it either. Yet——”
He paused, as if suddenly conscious of some impropriety in this domestic frankness before a third party, and Thorpe pounced113 through his well-mannered hesitation with the swiftness of a bird of prey.
“Let me suggest,” he said roundly, lifting his head and poising114 a hand to hold attention, while he thought upon what it was he should suggest—“this is what I would say. It seems rather irregular, doesn't it? to debate the matter in the presence of an outsider. You see it yourself. That is partly what I meant. Now I have met Mr. Fromentin,” he gave the name its English vowels115 with an obstinate116 emphasis, “and I have heard his statement. You have heard it too. If he wishes to lay more facts before us, why, well and good. But then I would suggest that he leave the matter in our hands, to discuss and look into between ourselves. That seems to you the proper course, doesn't it, Lord Chaldon?”
The French banker had been studying with strained acuteness the big lymphatic mask of the Director, with sundry117 sharp glances aside at the Chairman. The nervous changes on his alert, meagre old face showed how intently he followed every phase of their talk. A certain sardonic118 perception of evil in the air curled on his lip when he saw the Marquis accede119 with a bow and wave of the hand to Thorpe's proposition. Then he made his bow in turn, and put the best face possible upon the matter.
“Naturally I consult your convenience—and the proprieties,” he said, with an effect of proud humility120. “There are but a few other facts to submit. My nephew has already paid, in differences upon those accursed two thousand shares, a sum of nearly 30,000 pounds. I have the figures in my pocket—but they are fixed121 in my head as well. Twenty-eight thousand five hundred, those differences already amount to, not to speak of interest. At the last settlement, August 1st, the price per share was 15 pounds. That would make 30,000 pounds more, if we bought now—or a total of practically 60,000 pounds. Eh bien! I beg for the privilege of being allowed to buy these shares now. It is an unpleasant confession122 to make, but the firm of Fromentin Freres will be made very poor by this loss of 60,000 pounds. It was not always so, but it is so now. My nephew Robert has brought it into that condition. You see my shame at this admission. With all my own means, and with his sister's marriage portion, we can make up this sum of 30,000 pounds, and still enable the firm to remain in existence. I have gone over the books very painstakingly123, since I arrived in London. It can be kept afloat, and it can be brought back to safe and moderately profitable courses—if nothing worse happens. With another six weeks like the last, this will not be at all possible. We shall have the cup of dishonour124 thrust between our teeth. That will be the end of everything.”
M. Fromentin finished in tremulous, grave tones. After looking with blurred125 eyes for a moment into Thorpe's face, he bowed his head, and softly swayed the knees upon which his thin, dark hands maintained their clutch. Not even the revelation of hair quite white at the roots, unduly126 widening the track of parting on the top of his dyed head, could rob this movement of its mournful dignity.
Thorpe, after a moment's pause, took a pencil and paper from the desk, and made a calculation. He bit his lips and frowned at the sight of these figures, and set down some others, which seemed to please him no more. Then, with a sudden gesture as of impatience127, he rose to his feet.
“How much is that sister's marriage portion you spoke of?” he asked, rather brusquely.
The French gentleman had also risen. He looked with an air of astonishment128 at his questioner, and then hardened his face. “I apologize for mentioning it,” he said, with brevity. “One does not speak of family affairs.”
“I asked you how much it was,” pursued Thorpe, in a masterful tone. “A man doesn't want to rob a girl of her marriage portion.”
“I think I must not answer you,” the other replied, hesitatingly. “It was the fault of my emotion to introduce the subject. Pray leave the young lady out of account.”
“Then I've nothing more to say,” Thorpe declared, and seated himself again with superfluous129 energy. He scowled130 for a little at the disorder131 of his desk, and then flung forth132 an angry explanation. “If you evade133 fair questions like that, how can you expect that I will go out of my way to help you?”
“Oh, permit me, Mr. Thorpe”—the Marquis intervened soothingly—“I think you misapprehend. My friend, I am sure, wished to evade nothing. He had the idea that he was at fault in—in alluding134 to a purely135 domestic matter as—as a—what shall I say?—as a plea for your consideration.” He turned to the old banker. “You will not refuse to mention the sum to me, will you, my friend?”
M. Fromentin shrugged136 his shoulders. “It is ten thousand pounds,” he replied, almost curtly137.
Thorpe was seemingly mollified. “Very well, then,” he said. “I will sell you 2,000 shares at ten pounds.”
The others exchanged a wondering look.
“Monsieur,” the banker stammered—“I see your meaning. You will forgive me—it is very well meant indeed by you—but it was not my proposition. The market-price is fifteen pounds—and we were prepared to pay it.” Thorpe laughed in a peremptory138, gusty139 way. “But you can't pay more than I ask!” he told him, with rough geniality140. “Come, if I let you and your nephew in out of the cold, what kind of men-folk would you be to insist that your niece should be left outside? As I said, I don't want her money. I don't want any woman's money. If I'm going to be nice to the rest of the family, what's the objection to my being nice to her?”
“Monsieur,” said the Frenchman, after an instant's reflection, “I offer none. I did not at the moment perceive the spirit of your words, but I recognize now that it was delicacy141 itself. I tender you the most profound thanks—for ALL the family.”
After some further conversation the elder Fromentin took his departure. Lord Chaldon apparently142 proposed to accompany him, but Thorpe begged him to remain, and he put aside his hat once more and resumed his seat.
Thorpe walked about a little, with his hands in his pockets, in a restless way. “If it isn't unpleasant to you, I think I'll light a cigar,” he said suddenly, and moved over to the cabinet. He poured out a drink of neat brandy, as well, and furtively143 swallowed it. Then he came back, preceded by a cloud of smoke.
“It went terribly against the grain,” he said, with a rueful laugh. “I'd sworn to let no Jew off with an inch of hide left on him—and here three of them have been wheedled144 out of my grip already.”
“Jews?” exclaimed the Marquis, much puzzled. “Did you—did you think Fromentin was a Jew? God bless me! he's no more one than I am! Why, not even so much, for there IS a Herschell in my pedigree. Why, dear man, they were Crusaders!”
Thorpe smiled somewhat sheepishly. “I never noticed much,” he said. “It was a foreign-looking name. I took it for granted.”
Lord Chaldon bent his brows a little. “Yes-s”—he murmured, meditatively145. “I've heard it mentioned that your enterprise was suspected of an anti-Semitic twist. Do you mind my talking a little with you about that?”
“Oh, not at all,” the other answered with languid acquiescence146, as he seated himself.
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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halcyon
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| n.平静的，愉快的 | |
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moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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glacier
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| n.冰川，冰河 | |
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brokers
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| n.（股票、外币等）经纪人( broker的名词复数 )；中间人；代理商；（订合同的）中人v.做掮客（或中人等）( broker的第三人称单数 )；作为权力经纪人进行谈判；以中间人等身份安排… | |
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massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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clamorous
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| adj.吵闹的，喧哗的 | |
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duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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blindfolded
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| v.（尤指用布）挡住（某人）的视线( blindfold的过去式 )；蒙住（某人）的眼睛；使不理解；蒙骗 | |
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bribed
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| v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
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assassination
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| n.暗杀；暗杀事件 | |
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besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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touts
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| n.招徕( tout的名词复数 )；（音乐会、体育比赛等的）卖高价票的人；侦查者；探听赛马的情报v.兜售( tout的第三人称单数 )；招揽；侦查；探听赛马情报 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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19
apathetic
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| adj.冷漠的，无动于衷的 | |
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20
intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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21
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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systematically
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| adv.有系统地 | |
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24
amassed
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| v.积累，积聚( amass的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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25
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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28
entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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30
specialties
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| n.专门，特性，特别；专业( specialty的名词复数 )；特性；特制品；盖印的契约 | |
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31
purported
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| adj.传说的，谣传的v.声称是…，（装得）像是…的样子( purport的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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33
prospectus
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| n.计划书；说明书；慕股书 | |
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34
sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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35
shareholders
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| n.股东( shareholder的名词复数 ) | |
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36
garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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37
avenging
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| adj.报仇的，复仇的v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的现在分词 )；为…报复 | |
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38
imperturbably
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| adv.泰然地，镇静地，平静地 | |
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39
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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40
coup
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| n.政变；突然而成功的行动 | |
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41
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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42
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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43
computed
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| adj.[医]计算的，使用计算机的v.计算，估算( compute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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45
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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46
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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47
vendetta
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| n.世仇，宿怨 | |
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48
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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49
liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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50
relatively
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| adv.比较...地，相对地 | |
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51
lethargic
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| adj.昏睡的，懒洋洋的 | |
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52
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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53
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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54
soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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55
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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56
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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57
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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58
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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59
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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60
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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61
stouter
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| 粗壮的( stout的比较级 )； 结实的； 坚固的； 坚定的 | |
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62
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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63
starched
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| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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64
austerely
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| adv.严格地，朴质地 | |
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65
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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66
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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67
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
titular
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| adj.名义上的，有名无实的；n.只有名义（或头衔）的人 | |
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69
renowned
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| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
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70
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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71
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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72
proprietorship
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| n.所有（权）；所有权 | |
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73
nominally
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| 在名义上，表面地； 应名儿 | |
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74
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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75
chronic
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| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
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76
solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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77
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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78
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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79
beseeching
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| adj.恳求似的v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的现在分词 ) | |
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80
beholder
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| n.观看者，旁观者 | |
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81
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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82
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83
gloss
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| n.光泽，光滑；虚饰；注释；vt.加光泽于；掩饰 | |
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84
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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85
revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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86
continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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87
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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88
suppliant
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| adj.哀恳的；n.恳求者，哀求者 | |
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89
embittered
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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90
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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91
grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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92
conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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93
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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94
avaricious
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| adj.贪婪的，贪心的 | |
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95
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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96
humane
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| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
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97
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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98
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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99
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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100
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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101
scrutinizing
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的现在分词 ) | |
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102
steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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103
gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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104
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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105
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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106
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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107
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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108
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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109
chancellors
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| 大臣( chancellor的名词复数 )； （某些美国大学的）校长； （德国或奥地利的）总理； （英国大学的）名誉校长 | |
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110
suavely
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111
transacted
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| v.办理（业务等）( transact的过去式和过去分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
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112
impute
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| v.归咎于 | |
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113
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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114
poising
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| 使平衡( poise的现在分词 )； 保持（某种姿势）； 抓紧； 使稳定 | |
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115
vowels
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| n.元音，元音字母( vowel的名词复数 ) | |
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116
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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117
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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118
sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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119
accede
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| v.应允，同意 | |
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120
humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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121
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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122
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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123
painstakingly
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| adv. 费力地 苦心地 | |
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124
dishonour
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| n./vt.拒付（支票、汇票、票据等）；vt.凌辱，使丢脸；n.不名誉，耻辱，不光彩 | |
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125
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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126
unduly
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| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
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127
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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128
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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129
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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130
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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131
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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132
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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133
evade
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| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
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134
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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135
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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136
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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137
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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138
peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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139
gusty
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| adj.起大风的 | |
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140
geniality
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| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
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141
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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142
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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143
furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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144
wheedled
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| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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145
meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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146
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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