Quite two hundred horsemen, mounted in their own saddles on their own beasts, rode in the long procession which descended6 from Caermere toward the close of the noon hour. Clad in decent black for the greater part, with old silk hats or other formal and somber7 headgear, they jogged sedately8 in unison9 as the curbed10 horses stepped with caution down the hill. Their browned and large-featured faces wore a uniform mask of solemnity—distinguished chiefly by a resolute11 contraction12 of brows and lips, and eyes triumphantly13 cleared of all traces of speculation14. They looked down, as they passed, upon the humbler dalesmen and laborers15 of the hillsides, and their womenfolk and swarming16 children, with an impassive, opacated gaze.
On the green, before the little covered gateway17 to the churchyard, dull murmurs18 spread through this cortege, propelled sidelong from mouths which scorned to open; the main principles of a proposed evolution came slowly, in some mysterious way, to be comprehended among them: after almost less backing and pushing into one another than might have been expected, they perceived themselves emerging into an orderly arrangement, by which they lined the two sides of the carriage-way crossing the green. They regarded each other across this significant strip of gravel20 with a gloomy stolidity21 of pride: the West Salop Yeomanry could scarcely have done it better. Then another rustle22 of whispered sounds along their ranks toward the church—and the civic23 side of their demonstration24 came uppermost. With a tightened25 left hand upon the reins26, they removed their hats, and held them so that they could most readily read the names of the makers27 inside.
The carriages bearing the family of Torr, preceded by the curtained hearse, and followed by a considerable number of broughams and closed landaus recognizable as the property of the neighboring gentry28, moved silently forward along this lane of uncovered horsemen. The distant swelling29 moan of the organ floated on the May air, in effect a comment upon the fact that the tolling30 of the bell in the tower had ceased.
The intermittent31 noise of carriage-doors being sharply shut, and of wheels getting out of the way, proceeded from the head of the procession at the gate—and tenants32 and other undistinguished people on foot began to press forward between the ranks. The horsemen, with furtive33 glances to right and left, put on their hats again, and let the restive34 animals stretch their muscles in the path. A few, dismounting, and giving their bridles35 over to boys, joined those who were moving toward the church. The majority, drawing their horses aside into groups formed at random36, and incessantly37 shifting, lent their intellects, and in some restrained measure their tongues, to communion upon the one great problem of the day:—would the new Duke set the Hunt on its legs again?
The question was so intimately connected with their tenderest emotions and convictions, that no one liked to speak of it thoughtlessly or upon hasty impulse. Even those who doubted most, shrank from hearing the prophecies of evil they felt prone38 to utter. Men who nourished almost buoyant hopes still hesitated to create a confidence which must be so precarious39. While the faint sustained recitative of the priest in the church could be heard, insistent40 and disturbing like the monotone of a distant insect, and then the sounds of the organ once more, and of singing, fell upon the sunlit green, the horsemen spoke41 cautiously about the hounds. Even before Lord Porlock’s death, things had not been what they should have been. The pack was even then, as one might say, falling between two stools. The Torrs hadn’t the money to keep the thing up properly themselves, but they showed their teeth savagely42 the minute mention was made of getting in some outside help. But since Porlock’s death—well, the condition of affairs had been too painful for words. The horsemen shook their heads in dumb eloquence43 upon this tragic44 interval45. The Kennels46 had lapsed47 into a state hardly to be thought of, much less discussed. There had been no puppy-walk. Were there any young dogs at all? And, just heavens! if there were, what must they be like!
And yet the country-side, outraged48 as it felt itself to be in its finest feelings, beheld49 itself helpless. The old Duke—but really this was not just the time and place for saying what they felt about the old Duke They glanced uneasily toward the church when this theme suggested itself, and nodded with meaning to one another. It could be taken for granted that there were no illusions among them concerning him. But what about the new man? Eyes brightened, lips quivered in beseeching50 inquiry51, at the mention of this omnipotent52 stranger. What was he like? Had anybody heard anything that Welldon had said about him? It seemed that he was French bred, and that, considered by itself, might easily involve the worst. But then, was there not a story that he had ridden to the hounds in Derbyshire? Perhaps the younger generation of Frenchmen were better fellows than their fathers—but then, there was the reported fact that the Duke of Orleans fell off his horse and broke his leg whenever he tried to ride. Sir George had been informed in Paris that he would have been King of France by this time if he had been able to stick in a saddle. Yet, when one thought of it, did not this very fact indicate a fine new public sentiment in France, on the subject of horsemanship—and perhaps even of sport in general?
Christian53, at the door of the church, had thought most of clenching54 his teeth, and straining his upper-arms against his sides, to keep from trembling. He had not pictured himself, beforehand, as entering this burial place of his ancestors alone. Yet, in the churchyard, that was how the matter arranged itself. His first idea had been to lead, with Kathleen on his arm—but she had said her place was with Emanuel instead. Then the alternative of walking arm-in-arm with Lord Julius had seemed to him even more appropriate—but this too, in the confused constraint55 of the moment, had gone wrong. Stealing an anxious half-glance over his shoulder, he discovered that Lord Julius had placed himself at Kathleen’s other side. The slight gesture of appealing invitation which he ventured upon did not catch the old man’s eye. There was nothing for it but to stand alone.
To be the strange, unsupported central figure in such a pageant56 unnerved him. He stood tremulously behind the pall57—a burden draped with a great purple embroidered58 cloth, and borne upon the shoulders of eight peasant-laborers from the estate—and noted59 fleetingly60 that, so stunted61 and mean of stature62 were these poor hinds63, he looked with ease above them, over their load, into the faces of the two priests advancing down the walk toward him.
These persons, an elderly, dark man, with a red hood64 folded upon his shoulders, and a thin-faced fair young man, seemed to return the gaze with meaning. He caught himself feeling that their eyes deferred65 to him; yes, if they had bowed to the ground, the effect of their abasement66 before him could not have been more palpable. Looking perfunctorily across the chasm67 of death, their glances sought to, make interest with the living. He hated them both on the instant. As they wheeled, and by their measured steps forward drew slowly in their wake the bearers of the pall, the chant of the elder—“I am the Resurrection and the Life”—came vaguely68 to his ears, and found them hostile.
The interior of the old church—dim, cool, cloistral—was larger than Christian had assumed from its outer aspect. Many people were present, crowded close in the pews nearest the door—and strangely enough, it was his perception that these were chiefly women, of some unlabeled class which at least was not his own, that brought to him of a sudden self-command. He followed the bier up the aisle69 to its resting-place before the rail, took tacit cognizance of the place indicated to him by some man in professional black, and stood aside to let Kathleen pass in before him, all with a restored equanimity70 in which he was himself much interested. Through the reading of the Psalm71 and the Epistle he gave but the most vagrant72 attention to their words. The priests read badly, for one thing; the whining73 artificiality of their elocution annoyed and repelled74 him. But still more, his thoughts were diverted by the suggestiveness of everything about him.
Especially, the size of the funeral gathering75, and of the mounted and wheeled procession, had impressed him. There need be no pretense76 that affection or esteem77 for the dead man had brought out, from the sparsely78 populated country round about, this great multitude. Precisely79 for that reason, it became a majestic80 fact. The burial of a Duke of Glastonbury had nothing to do with, personal qualities or reputation. It was like the passing away of a monarch81. People who cared nothing for the individual were stirred and appealed to by the vicissitudes82 of an institution. Inset upon the walls around him were marble tablets, and more archaic83 canopies84 of stone over little carved effigies85 of kneeling figures; beyond, at the sides of the chancel, he could see the dark, rectangular elevations86 of the tombs, capped by recumbent mail-clad statues, with here and there a gleam of gilt88 or scarlet89 retained from their ancient ornamentation; even as he had walked slowly up the aisle, his downcast eyes had noticed the chiseled90 heraldry of stones beneath his feet. Everywhere about him was the historic impact of the Torrs. Their ashes were here—their banners and shields and tilting-helmets, their symbolical91 quarterings of the best arms of the West, their own proudest device of all. Their white bull on the green ground was familiar in England long before the broom-corn of the Angevins had been thought of. The clerkly pun on Tor and Taurus was as like as not older than the English language itself. All this made something mightier92, more imposing93 and enduring, than any edifice94 to be reared by man alone. It was only in part human, this structure of the family. The everlasting95 hills were a part of it, the dark ranges of forests, the spirits and legends of the ancient Marches.
“In the morning it is green, and groweth up; but in the evening it is cut down, dried up and withered,” droned the young clergyman.
But if man seemed to count for but little in this tremendous, forceful aggregation96 of tradition and custom, yet again he might be all in all. The tall old man under the purple pall, there—it was easy to think contemptuously of him. Christian recalled, in a kind of affrighted musing97, that one view of his grandfather that he had had. The disgust with which he had heard the stupid, violent words from those aged lips revived within him—then changed to wonder. Was it not, after all, the principle of strength which most affected98 men’s minds? There had been discernible in that grandfather of his a certain sort of strength—dull, unintelligent, sinister99, half-barbarous, but still strength. Was it not that which had brought forth100 the two hundred horsemen? And if this one element, of strength—yes, you might call it brute101 strength—were lacking, then would all the other fine qualities in the world avail to hold the impalpable, intangible combination together?
“‘He shall have put down all rule, and all authority, and power.’” It was the old parson who was reading now.
“‘For He must reign102, till He hath put all enemies under His feet.’”
Yes, even in this Protestant religion to which he had passively become committed, force was the real ideal! Christian’s wandering mind fastened itself for a moment upon the ensuing words of the lesson, but got nothing from their confusing reiterations. He lapsed into reverie again, then started abruptly103 with the sudden perception that everybody in the church behind him must be looking at him. In the pew immediately behind, there would be Captain Edward and his wife, and Augustine; in the one behind that Lady Cressage, Lord Chobham and his son; beyond them scores and scores of others seated in rows, and then a throng in the aisle and the doorway104—all purporting105 to think of the dead, but fixing their eyes none the less on the living. And it was not alone in the church, but through the neighborhood, for miles round about: when men spoke of the old Duke who was gone, their minds would in truth be dwelling106 upon the new Duke who was come. A thrill ran through his veins107 as the words spelled themselves out before his inner vision. The new Duke! He seemed never to have comprehended what it meant before.
No; and till this moment no genuine realization108 had come to him of this added meaning—this towering superstructure which the message of Julius and Emanuel had reared. It was only now that he hit upon the proper mental focus with which to contemplate109 this amazing thing. Not only was he a territorial110 ruler, one of the great nobles of Europe, but he was the master of wealth almost beyond counting as well!
Those nearest to him were rising now, and he, obeying imperative111 impulses within him, lifted himself proudly to his feet. While the air throbbed112 with deep-voiced organ notes, in the pause which here ensued, his gaze rested upon the pall before him. There was a sense of transfiguration in the spectacle. The purple mantle113 became imperial Tyrian to his eyes—and something which was almost tenderness, almost reverence114, yearned115 within him toward that silent, incased figure hidden beneath it. The mystic, omnipotent tie of blood gripped his heart.
With a collected sidelong look he surveyed the profiles of Emanuel and Lord Julius to his left. Theirs were the lineaments of princes. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, he beheld Edward and Augustine, as fancy revealed them standing116 in the pew behind him. Tall, slim, athletic117, fair—the figures his imagination made of them appealed to the new patriarchal spirit in his heart. Perhaps they were not wholly nice, these young men, but they also were princes, and they were of his race, and no one should persecute118 them, or despitefully use them.
The uncouth119 little bearers of the dead had come forward again, and taken up their burden. In a small lady-chapel120, extending from the transept at the left, the interment was to take place, and thither121 Christian now followed the pall, leading the menfolk of his family and the male guests of position who attached themselves to the group. Thus some score of black-clad figures clustered round the oblong opening in the old stone floor, and Christian, standing at its head, glanced impassively over the undefined throng of spectators gathered at the doorway.
“‘Man that is born of woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery,’” proclaimed the younger priest, with a sudden outburst of high-pitched, nasal tones which pierced the unexpectant ear. “‘He cometh up and is cut down, like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay.’”
Christian, watching abstractedly the impersonal122 wedge of faces at the door, all at once caught his breath in a sharp spasm123 of bewildered amazement124. The little book he had been holding fell from his hands, balanced on its edge for an instant and toppled over into the dark vault125 below. He seemed unconscious of the incident—but stared fixedly126, with parted lips and astonished eyes, at the image of something he had seen outside of the chapel. The thing itself had apparently127 vanished. He perceived vaguely that people were looking at him—and with a determined128 effort regained129 control of his face and bearing. The puzzling thought that it might have been an illusion—that perhaps he had seen nothing at all—brought mingled130 confusion and solace131 to his mind. He put his hand to the open book which Lord Julius at his side held toward him, and pretended to look at it.
The coffin132, now bereft133 of its purple covering, had been lowered to its final place. One of the bearers, standing over the cavity, crumbled134 dry earth from his tanned and clumsy fingers, and it fell with a faint rattle135 upon some resonant136, unseen surface.
The phrase, “‘Our dear brother, here departed,’” stuck out with awkward obtrusiveness137 from among the words of the priest. “‘Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.’” the sing-song went on. Then they were repeating the Lord’s Prayer together in a buzzing, fitful murmur19. There were other prayers—and then Christian read in the faces of those about him that the ceremony was finished. Accepting the suggestion of Lord Julius’s movement, he also bent87 over, and looked blankly down into the obscurity of the vault. But when he lifted his head again, it was to throw a more searching and strenuous138 glance than ever over the knot of people outside the door. And yes!—he had not been deceived. He distinctly saw the face again, and with lightning swiftness verified its features. Beyond a shadow of doubt it was Frances Bailey whom he beheld, mysteriously present in this most unlikely of places.
He withdrew his eyes and did not look that way again. The question whether she knew that he had recognized her, occupied his mind to the exclusion139 of all else, as he returned at the head of his followers140 to the body of the church. It still possessed141 his thoughts when he had joined the family group of chief mourners, loosely collecting itself in the aisle before the front pews, in waiting for the summons to the carriages. To some one he ought to speak at once, and for the moment his eye rested speculatively142 upon Cora. He identified her confidently, not only by her husband’s proximity143, but by the fact that her mourning veil was much thicker and longer than any of the others. Some unshaped consideration, however, restrained him, and on a swift second thought he turned to Kathleen.
“I want you to look,” he whispered to her, inclining his head—“on the other side of the church, just in a line between the second pillar and the white-bearded figure in the window—there is a tall young woman, with the gray and black hat. Do you see her? In a kind of way she belongs to us—she is Cora’s sister, but I’m afraid if Cora asked her, she would not come to the Castle.”
“Yes—once you talked to me about her,” Kathleen reminded him.
“Well, will you do this for me?” he continued, in an eager murmur. “Go to her, and make sure that she promises to come up with the rest. It would be unforgivable—if we let her go away.”
He had an uneasy feeling that Mrs. Emanuel’s veil did not prevent her shrewd glance from reading him through and through—but he did not seek to dissemble the breath of relief with which he heard her assent144.
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1
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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7
somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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unison
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| n.步调一致，行动一致 | |
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10
curbed
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| v.限制，克制，抑制( curb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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contraction
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| n.缩略词，缩写式，害病 | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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15
laborers
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| n.体力劳动者，工人( laborer的名词复数 )；（熟练工人的）辅助工 | |
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swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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17
gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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stolidity
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| n.迟钝，感觉麻木 | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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civic
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| adj.城市的，都市的，市民的，公民的 | |
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demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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makers
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| n.制造者，制造商（maker的复数形式） | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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tolling
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| [财]来料加工 | |
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intermittent
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| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
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tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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bridles
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| 约束( bridle的名词复数 )； 限动器； 马笼头； 系带 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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41
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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42
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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45
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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46
kennels
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| n.主人外出时的小动物寄养处，养狗场；狗窝( kennel的名词复数 )；养狗场 | |
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47
lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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48
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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49
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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50
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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51
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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52
omnipotent
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| adj.全能的，万能的 | |
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53
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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54
clenching
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
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55
constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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56
pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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57
pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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58
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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59
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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fleetingly
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| adv.飞快地，疾驰地 | |
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61
stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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62
stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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63
hinds
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| n.（常指动物腿）后面的( hind的名词复数 )；在后的；（通常与can或could连用）唠叨不停；滔滔不绝 | |
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64
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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65
deferred
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| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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66
abasement
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| n.滥用 | |
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67
chasm
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| n.深坑，断层，裂口，大分岐，利害冲突 | |
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68
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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69
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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70
equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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71
psalm
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| n.赞美诗，圣诗 | |
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72
vagrant
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| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
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73
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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74
repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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75
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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76
pretense
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| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
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77
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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78
sparsely
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| adv.稀疏地；稀少地；不足地；贫乏地 | |
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79
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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80
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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81
monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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82
vicissitudes
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| n.变迁，世事变化；变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 )；盛衰兴废 | |
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83
archaic
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| adj.(语言、词汇等)古代的，已不通用的 | |
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84
canopies
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| （宝座或床等上面的）华盖( canopy的名词复数 )； （飞行器上的）座舱罩； 任何悬于上空的覆盖物； 森林中天棚似的树荫 | |
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85
effigies
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| n.（人的）雕像，模拟像，肖像( effigy的名词复数 ) | |
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86
elevations
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| （水平或数量）提高( elevation的名词复数 )； 高地； 海拔； 提升 | |
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87
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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88
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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89
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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90
chiseled
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| adj.凿刻的，轮廓分明的v.凿，雕，镌( chisel的过去式 ) | |
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91
symbolical
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| a.象征性的 | |
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92
mightier
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| adj. 强有力的，强大的，巨大的 adv. 很，极其 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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94
edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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95
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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96
aggregation
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| n.聚合，组合；凝聚 | |
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97
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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98
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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99
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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100
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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101
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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102
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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103
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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104
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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105
purporting
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| v.声称是…，（装得）像是…的样子( purport的现在分词 ) | |
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106
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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107
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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108
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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109
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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110
territorial
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| adj.领土的，领地的 | |
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111
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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112
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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113
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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114
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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115
yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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116
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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117
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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118
persecute
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| vt.迫害，虐待；纠缠，骚扰 | |
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119
uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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120
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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121
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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122
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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123
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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124
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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125
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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126
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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127
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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128
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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129
regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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130
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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131
solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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132
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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133
bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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134
crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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135
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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136
resonant
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| adj.(声音)洪亮的，共鸣的 | |
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137
obtrusiveness
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138
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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139
exclusion
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| n.拒绝，排除，排斥，远足，远途旅行 | |
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140
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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141
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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142
speculatively
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| adv.思考地，思索地；投机地 | |
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143
proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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144
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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