With no means of determining the time save by instinct, she was none the less sure that the hour wasn't late: not late, at all events, for people who didn't have to be behind counters by half-past eight. So she lay still for many minutes, on the worn leather couch, listening intently. There was a great hush5 in the lodging-house: not a foot-fall, not a sound. Yet it was broad daylight—a clear and sunny morning.
Her quick eyes, reviewing the room in this new light, realized the substance of a dream come true. She liked it all: the high and dusty ceiling, the immense and gloomy bookcases, the disorderly writing-table, the three sombre and yellowing steel engravings on the walls, the bare, beaten path that crossed the carpet diagonally from door to window, the roomy and dilapidated chairs, even the faint, intangible, ineradicable smell of tobacco that haunted the air, even the generous cushion beneath her head.
Against this last she cuddled her cheek luxuriously7, a shadowy smile softening8 her lips, her lashes9 low. She was enchanted10 by the novel atmosphere of this roomy chamber11, an atmosphere of studiousness and clear thinking. And her thoughts focussed sharply upon her memories of the early morning hours, especially those involving the man who had put himself out to shelter her. She was consumed with curiosity about him and all that concerned him. In her inexperience she found it rather more than difficult to associate his courtesy, his solicitude12 and generosity13 with his aloofness15, abstraction and detachment: the type was new and difficult to classify.
Was it true, then, that Man—flesh-and-blood Man as differentiated16 from the romantic abstractions that swaggered through the chapters of the ten-cent weekly libraries—could be disinterested17 with Woman, content to serve rather than be served, to give rather than take?
On the one side stood That One of the taxicab adventure, together with John Matthias: arrayed against these, a host composed of Ben Austins and Mr. Winters and men with knees—beasts of prey18 who stalked or lay in ambush19 along all the trails that webbed her social wilderness21.
Were they truly different, Matthias and that other one? Or were they merely old enemies in new masks? How was one to know?...
A noise in the basement, the rattle22 of a kitchen range being shaken clear of ashes, startled the girl to her feet in a twinkling. However sharp her inquisitiveness24 and her desire to see and to know more of this man, she entertained no idea of lingering to be found there by him....
After bolting the door and before surrendering her tired body to the invitation of the couch, she had yielded to the temptation to make a brief tour of enquiry. The result had satisfied her that Matthias had lied in one particular, at least: unquestionably this was his work-room, but no less surely the man lived as well as worked in it, much if not all of the time. In its eastern wall Joan found a door opening into a small bedroom furnished with almost soldierly simplicity25. And there were two large closets in the southern wall of the chamber; in one she found his wardrobe, a staggering array of garments, neatly26 arranged in sharp contrast to the confusion of his desk; the other was a bathroom completely equipped, a dazzling luxury in her eyes, with its white enamel27, nickel-plate, glass and porcelain28 fittings.
She refreshed herself there after rising—not without a guilty sensation of trespass—returning to the larger room to complete her dressing29; no great matter, since she had merely laid aside skirt, coat, and shirtwaist, and loosened her corsets before lying down. In a very little time then, she was ready for the street; but with her hands on the doorknob and bolt, she hesitated, looking back, reluctant to go a thankless guest.
Slowly she moved back to the centre-table, touching30 with diffident fingers its jumble31 of manuscripts, typewriter-paper, memoranda32, and correspondence. There were letters in plenty, a rack stuffed with them, others scattered33 like leaves hither and yon, one and all superscribed with the name of John Matthias, Esq., many in the handwriting of women, a few scented34, but very faintly. Joan wondered about these women and his relations with them. Was he greatly loved and by many? It would not be strange, she thought, if he were....
Her temper curiously35 unsettled by these reflections, she stood for a long time, staring and thinking. Then a renewed disturbance36 in the lower regions of the house sent her packing—but not until she had left an inadequate37 scrawl38 of thanks, whose poverty and crudity39 she felt keenly. Why had she never learned to write a hand of delicately angular distinction to bear comparison with the hands that had addressed those impeccably "correct" notes?...
The hallway was deserted40. She let herself hastily out, believing she had escaped detection.
Sunlight swept the street from side to side, a pitiless and withering41 blast. Already every trace of last night's shower had vanished, blotted42 up by an atmosphere all a-quiver with the impetuous passion of those early, slanting43 rays. As if every living thing had been driven to shelter, or dared not venture forth44, the street was quiet and empty. In violent contrast, the tides of life ran brawling45 through Longacre Square on one hand and Eighth Avenue on the other.
Joan turned toward the latter, moving listlessly enough once she had gained the grateful shadow of its easterly sidewalks. A clock in the window of a delicatessen shop told her the hour was half-past seven, while the sight of the food unattractively displayed proved a sharper reminder46 of breakfast-time. She had no other concern in the world just then. It would be hours before she could accomplish anything toward establishing her independence; and what steps she was to take toward that consummation remained altogether nebulous in her understanding.
She had not gone far before a dairy lunch settled the question as to where she was to breakfast.
It was a small, shabby, dingy47 place, its walls plastered with white tiling and mirrors. Joan's order comprised a cup of brownish-yellow liquid, which was not coffee, and three weighty cakes known as "sinkers." These last might have been crude, childish models in putty of the popular American "hot biscuit," but were larger and slightly scorched48 on top and bottom, and when pried49 open revealed a composition resembling aerated50 clay. Joan anointed them generously with butter and consumed them with evident relish51. Her powers of digestion52 were magnificent. The price of the meal was ten cents. She went away with a sense of repletion53 and seventy-two cents.
She turned northward54 again. An empty day of arid55 hours confronted her perturbed56 and questioning imagination. She was still without definite plans or notion which way to turn for shelter. She knew only that everything must be settled before nightfall: she dared not trust to find another John Matthias, she could not sleep in the streets or parks, and return to East Seventy-sixth Street she would not. She had her own exertions57 to rely upon—and seventy-two cents: the one as woefully inadequate as the other.
Near Columbus Circle she bought a copy of the New York World for the sake of its "Help Wanted" advertisements, and strolled on into Central Park.
Here she found some suggestion of nature rising refreshed from its over-night bath to bask58 in sunlight. The grass was nowhere scorched, and in shadowed spots still sparkled with rain-drops. The air was still, steamy, and heady with fragrance59 of vegetation. Upon this artificial, rectangular oasis60 a sky of robin's-egg blue smiled benignly61. A sense of peace and friendly fortunes impregnated the girl's being. Somehow she felt serenely62 sure that nothing untoward63 could happen to her. The world was all too beautiful and kindly64....
She discovered a remote bench and there unfolded her newspaper and ran hastily through its advertising65 columns, finding one reason or another for rejecting every opening that seemed to promise anything in the nature of such employment as she had theretofore known. There were no cards from theatrical66 firms in need of chorus-girls, and nothing else interested her. She was now obsessed67 by two fixed68 ideas, as they might have been the poles of her world: she was going on the stage; she was not going back behind a counter.
Yet she must find a way to live until the stage should open its jealous doors to her....
The morning hours ebbed20 slowly, with increasing heat. From time to time Joan, for one reason or another, would drift idly on to another bench.
Once, as she sat dreaming with vacant eyes, she was roused by the quick beating of muffled69 hoofs70, and looked up in time to see a woman on horseback pass swiftly along a bridle-path, closely pursued by a man, likewise mounted. The face of the horsewoman burned bright with pleasure and excitement and her eyes shone like stars as she glanced over-shoulder at her distanced escort. She rode well and looked very trim and well turned out in her habit of light-coloured linen71. Joan thought her charming—and unspeakably blessed.
Later they returned; but now their horses walked sedately72 side by side; and the woman was smiling softly, with her eyes downcast, as she listened to her companion, who bent73 eagerly close to her and spoke74 in a low and intimate voice.
For hours afterwards Joan was haunted by the memory, and rent with envious75 longing76. A hundred times she pictured herself in the place of the horsewoman; and the man at her side wore always the manner and the aspect of John Matthias....
About two o'clock in the afternoon she lunched meagrely on crackers-and-milk at another dairy establishment on Columbus Avenue—reducing her capital to sixty-one cents. Then, recrossing the park, she made her way back through the sweltering side-streets toward her late home. She arrived in time to see her father's burly figure lumbering77 heavily up the street. His gaze was to the sidewalk, his mind upon the poolrooms, his thick, pendulous78 lower lip quivered with incessant79, inaudible repetition of race-track names and records. He would not have recognized Joan had he looked directly at her. And he didn't look.
She was safe, now, to make her final visit to the flat. Thursby could be counted on not to return before six o'clock. She hastened across the street and up the narrow, dark and noisome80 stairway....
Seated at the dining-table, over an array of dishes discoloured with the residue81 of the mid-day stew82, her mother, seemingly more immaterial than ever, merely lifted shadowed and apathetic83 eyes to Joan's face as she entered. Edna, on the contrary, jumped up with a hushed cry of surprise not untouched by alarm.
"Joan!"
The girl assumed a confident swagger. It was borne in upon her, very suddenly, that she must prove a ready liar84 in answer to the storm of questions that was about to break.
"Hello, people!" she cried cheerfully. "How's everything?"
"Didn't the Old Man meet you on the stairs?" demanded Edna in a frightened breath.
"Nope: I waited till he'd turned the corner," Joan returned defiantly85. "Anyway I ain't afraid of him. What'd he say, last night, after I was gone?"
Edna started to speak, stammered86 and fell still, turning a timid gaze to her mother.
"No more'n he said before you went out," said the latter listlessly. "He won't hear of your coming back—"
"A lot I care!" Joan retorted with a fling of her head. "All I'm after's my things. I've done enough for this family.... Now I'm going to look out for Number One."
The mother made no response. She seemed no longer to see Joan, whose bosom87 swelled89 and palpitated with a suddenly-acquired sense of personal grievance90.
"I've done enough!" she repeated mutinously91.
Edna said in a tremulous voice: "I don't know what we'll do without you—"
"Do as I done!" Joan broke in hotly. "Go out and get a job and slave all day long so's your father won't have to support his family. Go on and try it: I'm sick and tired of it!"
She turned and strode angrily into the front rooms. Edna followed, awed93 but inquisitive23.
Pulling their bed out from the wall, Joan disentangled from the accumulation of odds94 and ends beneath it a small suit-case of matting, in which she began to pack her scanty96 store of belongings97: all in embittered98 silence, ignoring her sister.
"Where'd you stay last night?" Edna ventured, at length.
"With a friend of mine," Joan answered brusquely.
"Who?" the other persisted.
Joan hesitated not one instant; the lie was required to save her face.
"Maizie Dean, if you got to know."
"Who's Maizie Dean? I never heard you speak of her—"
"Lizzie Fogarty, then," said Joan roughly. "She used to work with me at the stocking counter. Then she went on the stage. Now she's making big money."
"Is she going to get you a job?"
"Of course—foolish!"
"Where's she live?"
"Down in Forty-fifth Street, near Eighth Avenue."
"What's the number of the house?"
"What do you want to know for?"
"Ain't you going back there?"
Joan shut down the lid of the suit-case and began to strap99 it. "Yes," she said with a trace of reluctance100.
"I might wanta write to you," insisted Edna. "Anything might happen and you not know—"
"Oh, well, then," Joan admitted, with an air of extreme ennui101, "the number's Two-eighty-nine. Catch that? Don't forget."
"I won't."
"Besides," Joan added, lifting her voice for the benefit of the listener in the dining-room, "you don't need to be so much in a rush to think I ain't ever coming back to see you. You got no right to think that of me, after the way I've turned in my pay week in and week out, right straight along. I don't know what makes you think I've turned mean. I'm going to come and see you and ma every week, and as soon's I begin to make money you'll get your share, all right, all right!"
"Joan—" the younger girl whispered, drawing nearer.
"What?"
"They had a nawful row last night—ma and pa—after you went."
"I bet he done all the rowing!"
"He"—Edna's thin, pale cheeks coloured faintly with indignation—"he said rotten things to her—said it was because you took after her made you want to go on the stage."
"That's like him, the brute102!" Joan commented between her teeth. "What'd she say?"
"Nothing. Then he lit into Butch, but Butch stood up to him and told him to shut his face or he'd knock his block off."
"And he did shut his face, didn't he?"
Edna nodded vigorously. "Yeh—but he rowed with ma for hours after they'd went to bed. I could hear him fussing and swearing. She never answered one word."
Reminiscences of like experiences of her own, long white nights through which she had lain sleepless103, listening to the endless, indistinguishable monologue104 of recrimination and abuse in the adjoining bedroom, softened105 Joan's mood.
She returned to the dining-room.
Her mother's head had fallen forward on arms folded amidst the odious106 disorder6 of unclean dishes. Through a long minute Joan regarded with sombre eyes that unlovely and pitiful head, with its scant95 covering of greyish hair stretched taut107 from nape to temple and brow and twisted into a ragged108 knot at the back, with its hollowed temples and sunken cheeks, its thin and stringy neck emerging from the collar of a cheap and soiled Mother Hubbard. With new intentness, as if seeing them for the first time, she studied the dejected curve of those toil-bent shoulders, and the lean red forearms with their gnarled and scalded hands.
Dull emotions troubled the girl, pity and apprehension109 entering into her mood to war with selfishness and obstinacy110.
This drudge111 that was her mother had once been a woman like herself, straight and strong and fashioned in clean, firm contours of wholesome112 flesh. To what was due this dreadful metamorphosis? To the stage? Or to Man? Or to both?... Must she in the end become as her mother was, a battered113 derelict of womanhood, hopeless of salvage114?
Slipping to her knees, she passed an arm across the thin, sharp shoulders of the woman.
"Ma ..." she said gently.
The response was a whisper barely audible, her name breathed in a sigh: "Joan...."
Beneath her warm, strong arm there was the faintest perceptible movement of the shoulders.
"Listen to me, ma: I ain't going to forget you and Edna. I am going to work hard and take care of you."
The mother moved her head slightly, turning her face away from her daughter. Otherwise she was wholly unresponsive. Joan might have been talking to the deaf.
She divined suddenly something of the tragedy and despair of this inarticulate creature whose body had borne her, who had once been as her daughter was now. Before her mental vision unfolded a vast and sordid115 tapestry—a patchwork-thing made up of hints, innuendoes116 and snatches of half-remembered conversations, heretofore meaningless, of a thousand-and-one insignificant117 circumstances, individually valueless, assembling into an almost intelligible118 whole: picturing in dim, distorted perspective the history of her mother, drab, pitiful, appalling119....
Abruptly120, bending forward, Joan touched her lips to the sallow cheek.
"Good-bye," she said stiffly; "I got to go."
She rose. Her mother did not move. Edna stared wonderingly, as though a bystander at a scene of whose meaning she was ignorant. Joan took up her suit-case and went to the door.
"S'long, kid," she saluted121 her sister lightly. "Take good care of ma while I'm away. See you before long."
She hesitated again in the open doorway122, with her hand on the knob.
"And tell Butch I said thanks."
She was half-way down to the next landing before she became aware of Edna bending over the banisters.
"Joan—"
"What?"
The girl paused.
"I 'most forgot: Butch said if you was to come in to tell you to drop around to the store th'safternoon. Said he had something to tell you."
"What?" demanded Joan, incredulous.
"I dunno. He just said that this morning."
"All right. Good-bye."
"Good-bye, Joan."
To eyes dazzled by ambition, the news-stand, shouldered on either side by a prosperous delicatessen shop and a more prosperous and ornate corner saloon, wore a look unusually hopeless and pitiful: it was so small, so narrow-chested, so shabby!
Its plate-glass show-window, dim with the accumulated grime of years, bore in block letters of white enamel—with several letters missing—the legend:
A THUR BY Newsd ler & Stationer igars & Con tionery
Before the door stood a wooden newspaper stand, painted red and black, advertising the one-cent evening sheet which furnished it gratis123. A few dusty stacks of papers ornamented124 it. The door was wide open, disclosing an interior furnished with dirt-smeared show-cases which housed a stock of cheap cigars and tobacco, boxes of villainous candy to be retailed125 by the cent's-worth, writing-paper in gaudy126, fly-specked packages, magazines, and a handful of brittle127 toys, perennially128 unsold. The floor was seldom swept and had never been scrubbed in all the nine years that Thursby had been a tenant129 of the place.
The establishment was, as Joan had anticipated, in sole charge of Butch, who occupied a tilted130 chair, his lean nose exploring the sporting pages of The Evening Journal. Inevitably131, a half-consumed Sweet Caporal cigarette ornamented his cynic mouth. He greeted Joan with a flicker132 of amusement.
"'Lo, kid!" he said: and threw aside the paper. "What's doing?"
"Edna said you wanted to see me."
"Yeh: that's right." Butch yawned liberally and thrust his hat to the back of his head.
"Well?" said the girl sharply. "What do you want?"
Butch delayed his answer until he had inserted a fresh cigarette between his lips, lighted it from the old, and inhaled133 deeply. Interim134 he looked her over openly, with the eyes of one from whom humanity has no secrets.
"Dja land that job?" he enquired135 at length, smoke trickling136 from his mouth and nostrils137, a grim smile lurking138 about his lips.
"Haven't tried yet."
"But you're goin' to?"
"Of course."
"What line? Chorus girl or supe in the legit?"
"I'm going to try to do anything that turns up," Joan affirmed courageously139.
"Try anythin' once, eh?" murmured the boy with profound irony140. "Well, where you goin' to hang out till you land?"
The lie ran glibly141 off her tongue this time: "With Maizie Dean—Two-eighty-nine West Forty-fifth."
"That where you stayed last night?"
"Yes ..." she faltered142, already beginning to repent143 and foresee unhappy complications in event Butch should try to find her at the address she had given.
The boy got up suddenly and stood close to her, searching her face with his prematurely144 knowing eyes.
"Look here, kid!" he said roughly. "Hand it to me straight now: on the level, there ain't no man mixed up in this?"
She was able to meet his gaze without a tremor145: "On the dead level, Butch."
"That's all right then. Only...."
"Only what?"
"There'll be regular trouble for the guy, if I ever find out you've lied to me."
"What business—"
"Ah, cut that!" snarled146 Butch. "You're my sister—see? And you're a damn' little fool, and somebody's got to look out for you. And that means me. You go ahead and try this stage thing all you like—but duck the men, duck 'em every time!"
He eyed her momentarily from a vast and aloof14 coign of vantage. She was dumb with resentment147, oppressed by amazement148 and a little in awe92 of the boy, her junior though he was.
"Now, lis'en: got any money?"
"No—yes—fifty cents," she stammered.
"That ain't goin' to carry you far over the bumps. Who's goin' to put up for you while you're lookin' for this job-thing? Your frien' Maizie?"
"I don't know—I guess so—yes: I'm going to stay with her."
"Well, you won't last long if you don't come through with some coin every little while."
Without warning Butch produced a small packet of bills from his trouser-pocket.
"Djever see them before?" he enquired, with his mocking smile.
Joan gasped149: "My money—!"
"Uh-huh," Butch nodded. "Fell outa your bag when you side-stepped the Old Man and beat it, last night. He didn't see it, and I sneaked150 the bunch while he wasn't lookin'. G'wan—take it."
He thrust the money into her fingers that closed convulsively upon it. For a moment she choked and gulped151, on the verge152 of tears, so overpowering was the sense of relief.
"O Butch—!"
"Ah, cut that out. It's your money, all right—ain't it?"
She began with trembling fingers to count the bills. Butch tilted his head to one side and regarded her with undisguised disgust.
"Say, you must have a swell88 opinion of me, kid, to think I'd hold out on you!"
She stared bewildered.
"There's twenty-two dollars here, Butch!"
Her hand moved out as if offering to return the money. With an angry movement he slapped it back and turned away.
"That's right," he muttered sourly. "I slipped an extra ten in. I guess I gotta right to, ain't I? You're my sister, and you'll need it before you get through, all right."
She lingered, stunned153. "But, Butch ... I oughtn't to...."
"Ah, can that guff—and beat it. The Old Man's liable to be back any minute."
Seizing her suit-case, he urged her none too gently toward the door.
"It's awful' good of you, Butch—awful' good—"
"All right—all right. But can the gush-thing till next time."
Overwhelmed, Joan permitted herself to be thrust out of the door; and then, recovering to some extent, masked her excitement as best she could and trudged154 away across-town, back toward Central Park.
Blind instinct urged her to that refuge where she would have quiet and peace while she thought things out: a necessity which had not existed until within the last fifteen minutes.
Before her interview with Butch she had been penniless and planless. But now she found herself in circumstances of comparative affluence155 and independence. Twenty-two dollars strictly156 economized157 surely ought to keep her fed and sheltered in decent lodgings158 for at least three weeks; within which time she would quite as surely find employment of some sort.
It remained to decide how best to conserve159 her resources. On the face of the situation, she had nothing to do but seek the cheapest and meanest rooming-house in the city. But in her heart of hearts she had already determined160 to return to the establishment of Madame Duprat, beyond her means though it might be, ostensibly to await the return of the Dancing Deans, secretly that she might be under the same roof with John Matthias.
And in the end it was to Number 289 that she turned. At half-past four she stood again on the brown-stone stoop, waiting an answer to her ring.
And at the same moment, John Matthias, handsomely garbed161 in the best of his wardrobe but otherwise invested in a temper both indignant and rebellious162, instituted a dash from room to train, handicapped by a time-limit ridiculously brief.
As the front door slammed at his back, he pulled up smartly to escape collision with the girl on the stoop. He looked at and through her, barely conscious of her pretty, pallid163 face and the light of recognition in her eyes. Then, with a murmured apology, he dodged164 neatly round her, swung down the steps, and frantically165 hailed a passing taxicab.
Joan, dashed and disappointed, saw the vehicle swing in to the curb166 and heard Matthias, as he clambered in, direct the driver to the Pennsylvania Station with all possible haste.
She stared after the dwindling167 cab disconsolately168. He hadn't even known her!
In another minute she would have turned her back on the house and sought lodgings elsewhere, but the door abruptly opened a second time, revealing Madame Duprat, a forbidding but imperative169 figure, upon the threshold.
Timidly in her confusion the girl made some semi-articulate enquiry as to the address of Miss Maizie Dean.
To her astonishment170 and consternation171, the landlady172 unbent and smiled.
"Ah!" she exclaimed with unction. "Mademoiselle is the friend of Monsieur Matthias, is it not? Very good. Will you not be pleased to enter? It is but this afternoon that the Sisters Dean have returned so altogether unexpectedly."
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1
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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aloofness
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| 超然态度 | |
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differentiated
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| 区分，区别，辨别( differentiate的过去式和过去分词 )； 区别对待； 表明…间的差别，构成…间差别的特征 | |
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disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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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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ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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ebbed
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的过去式和过去分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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inquisitiveness
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| 好奇，求知欲 | |
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25
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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26
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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27
enamel
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| n.珐琅，搪瓷，瓷釉；(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
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28
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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29
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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30
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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31
jumble
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| vt.使混乱，混杂；n.混乱；杂乱的一堆 | |
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32
memoranda
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| n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
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33
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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34
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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35
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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36
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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37
inadequate
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| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
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38
scrawl
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| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
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39
crudity
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| n.粗糙，生硬；adj.粗略的 | |
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40
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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41
withering
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| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
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42
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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43
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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44
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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45
brawling
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| n.争吵，喧嚷 | |
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46
reminder
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| n.提醒物，纪念品；暗示，提示 | |
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47
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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48
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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49
pried
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| v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的过去式和过去分词 )；撬开 | |
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50
aerated
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| v.使暴露于空气中，使充满气体( aerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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52
digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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53
repletion
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| n.充满，吃饱 | |
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54
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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55
arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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56
perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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58
bask
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| vt.取暖，晒太阳，沐浴于 | |
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59
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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60
oasis
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| n.（沙漠中的）绿洲，宜人的地方 | |
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61
benignly
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| adv.仁慈地，亲切地 | |
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62
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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63
untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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64
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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65
advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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66
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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67
obsessed
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| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
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68
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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69
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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70
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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71
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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72
sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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73
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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74
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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75
envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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76
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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77
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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78
pendulous
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|
| adj.下垂的；摆动的 | |
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79
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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80
noisome
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|
| adj.有害的，可厌的 | |
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81
residue
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| n.残余，剩余，残渣 | |
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82
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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83
apathetic
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| adj.冷漠的，无动于衷的 | |
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84
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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85
defiantly
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|
| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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86
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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87
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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88
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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89
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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90
grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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91
mutinously
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| adv.反抗地，叛变地 | |
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92
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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93
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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95
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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96
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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97
belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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98
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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99
strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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100
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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101
ennui
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| n.怠倦，无聊 | |
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102
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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103
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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104
monologue
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| n.长篇大论，（戏剧等中的）独白 | |
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105
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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106
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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107
taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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108
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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109
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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110
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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111
drudge
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| n.劳碌的人；v.做苦工，操劳 | |
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112
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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113
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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114
salvage
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| v.救助，营救，援救；n.救助，营救 | |
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115
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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116
innuendoes
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| n.影射的话( innuendo的名词复数 )；讽刺的话；含沙射影；暗讽 | |
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117
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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118
intelligible
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| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
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119
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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120
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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121
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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122
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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123
gratis
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| adj.免费的 | |
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124
ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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125
retailed
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| vt.零售（retail的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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126
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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127
brittle
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| adj.易碎的；脆弱的；冷淡的；(声音)尖利的 | |
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128
perennially
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| adv.经常出现地；长期地；持久地；永久地 | |
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129
tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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130
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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131
inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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132
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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133
inhaled
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| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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134
interim
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| adj.暂时的，临时的；n.间歇，过渡期间 | |
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135
enquired
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| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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136
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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137
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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138
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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139
courageously
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| ad.勇敢地，无畏地 | |
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140
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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141
glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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142
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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143
repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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144
prematurely
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| adv.过早地，贸然地 | |
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145
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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146
snarled
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|
| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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147
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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148
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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149
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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150
sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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151
gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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152
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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153
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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154
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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155
affluence
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| n.充裕，富足 | |
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156
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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157
economized
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| v.节省，减少开支( economize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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158
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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159
conserve
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| vt.保存，保护，节约，节省，守恒，不灭 | |
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160
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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161
garbed
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| v.（尤指某类人穿的特定）服装，衣服，制服( garb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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162
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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163
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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164
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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165
frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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166
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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167
dwindling
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| adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 ) | |
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168
disconsolately
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| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
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169
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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170
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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171
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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172
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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