She thought a great deal about herself in those days: not, perhaps, more than had been common with her in that so-dead yesterday, but much, and more profoundly; reading a new meaning into the riddle6 of existence, so changed had all things become since her marriage.
Before her pensive7 vision Life unfolded rare, golden-vista'd promises.
With another man, or in another stratum8 of society, she might have fulfilled herself wonderfully, even unto her salvation9....
To begin with, she was very happy. Fond to distraction10 of her husband, she never doubted that he worshipped her; he gave her quick wits no cause to entertain a doubt. They were together always, inseparable. She felt that nature must truly have fashioned them solely11 for one another, and could not forget her wonder that their passion should be so mutual13, so complete. She loved him to distraction: all his traits, his robust14 swagger, his sonorous15 and flexible tones, the flowery eloquence16 of his gesture, his broad, easy-going, tolerant good-humour, the way he wore his clothes and the very cut and texture17 of them. And she ruled him like a despot.
Quard submitted without complaint. She was all his fancy had painted her, and something more; recognizing dimly that she excelled him variously (although he was quite incapable18 of analyzing19 these distinctions) he served her humbly20, with unconscious deference21 to her many excellences22. She was by way of making him a better wife than he deserved. If at times conscious of some little irk from her amiable23 but inflexible24 autocracy25, he reminded himself that she was a finer woman than any he had ever known, well worth humouring: it wasn't on every corner a fellow'd pick up one like Joan.
He liked to follow her into hotel lobbies and restaurants and watch people turn to eye her, the men with sudden interest, the women with instinctive26 hostility27. It even amused him to quell28 a too-ambitious stare with a fixed29, grim, and truculent30 regard backed by the menace of his powerful physique. It gave a man standing31, license32 to swagger, to own a woman like Joan.
He came to pander33 oddly to this vanity—would leave Joan to go to their room alone, while he strolled off to a bar to meet some crony or acquaintance of the day, tell his best story, and then suddenly excuse himself:
"Well, s'long. The wife's waiting for me."
The response rarely failed: "Ah, let her wait; have another drink. Did I ever tell you—"
A lifted, deprecatory palm, a knowing look: "No—guess I'll kick along; y'see, she's some wife...."
Conscious only of his adoration34, Joan was enchanted35 by their mode of life, with its constant shifts of scene, its spice of vagabondage. She believed she could never tire of travelling.
Railroad journeys, with their inevitable36 concomitants of dirt, noise, and discomfort37, never discouraged her: she really liked them; they were taking her somewhere—it didn't much matter where. She even derived38 a sort of pleasure from such nauseating39 experiences as rising to catch a train at four-thirty in the morning, against their "long jumps." And there was keen delight in napping in a parlour-car chair or with a head upon her husband's shoulder in a day-coach, to wake all drowsy40, breathe air foul41 with coal-smoke, and peer through a black window-pane (shadowed by her hand) to catch a glimpse of some darkly fulgent breadth of strange water, or the marching defile42 of great alien hills, or a sweep of semi-wooded countryside bleached43 with moonlight—remembering that, only a few short months ago, the world of her travels had been bounded by Fort George on the north, Coney Island on the south, knowing neither east nor west.
She was discovering America: even as she was discovering Life....
Their route from Trenton took them south through Philadelphia, Wilmington, Baltimore, Washington, Richmond, and Norfolk; whence they doubled back by steamer to New York, took a Sound boat to Fall River, played Boston, and drifted through New England in bitter cold weather, eventually striking westward44 again, via Albany, Buffalo45, and the middle country.
Quard drew her attention to the fact that it was "a liberal education...."
Sometimes she thought pityingly of Matthias, and wondered if he knew she was married and what she was doing; and whether he were angry, or heart-broken, or eaten up with morbid46 jealousy47; and how he would act should chance ever throw them together again. She was sorry for him: he had lost her. If only he had been a little more enterprising.... She wondered what would have happened if Matthias had been more enterprising; he could have possessed48 her at any time during the brief period of their infatuation. If he had married her then, would she be as contented49 as she was now, with Charlie? She doubted it; Quard was so completely his opposite....
She ceased to worry about the ring. She meant to return it some day, perhaps. Though she did not wear it and had never so much as mentioned Matthias to Quard, it remained a possession whose charms tugged50 at her heart-strings. At times she amused herself formulating51 idle little intrigues52, with the object (if ever set in motion) of excusing the appearance of the jewel upon her hand. But all her schemes seemed to possess some fatal flaw, and she was desperately53 afraid of the truth. Meanwhile, the ring lay perdue at the bottom of a work-basket of woven sweet-grass which she had purchased shortly after her marriage; twisted in an old, empty needle-paper and mixed in with a worthless confusion of trash, such as women accumulate in such receptacles, its hiding place was well calculated to escape detection by even an informed purloiner54.
Quard's tardy55 engagement ring was set with an inferior diamond flanked by artificial pearls. Joan despised it secretly. For a long time it was the sole blemish56 on the bright shield of her happiness....
And then, the night of their opening day in Cincinnati, Quard escorted her from the theatre to the hotel, left her at the door, and turned back to "see a friend" who happened to be playing on the same bill.
This was quite the usual thing, and Joan went contentedly57 off to her room and in due course to bed, confident that Quard would return within an hour.
Five hours later she awoke to startled apprehension58 of the facts, first that she must have dropped off to sleep without meaning to, next that Quard had not returned, finally that it was past four o'clock in the morning.
With a little shiver of sickening premonition she rose, slipped into a dressing59-gown, called a bell-boy, and instructed him to look for her husband. Some time later the boy reported that the bar was closed and the gentleman not to be found.
It was broad daylight when Quard staggered in with the assistance of the same bell-boy and his negro dresser. His eyes were glazed60, his face ghastly, his mind wandered: he was as helpless as a child. With the aid of the boys, Joan managed to undress the man and put him to bed. At once he fell asleep, with the cold stump61 of a half-burned cigar obstinately62 clenched63 between his teeth. It was an hour before the muscles of his jaw64 relaxed enough to release it.
Dressing, Joan left the hotel, swallowed some coffee and rolls, tasteless to her, in a nearby restaurant, and wandered about until eight o'clock, when she found a drug-store open, and consulted the clerk. He advised bromo seltzer and aromatic65 spirits of ammonia. Armed with these, she returned to her husband, and shortly after noon, daring to delay no longer, roused him by sprinkling cold water in his face—all other methods having failed even to interrupt his stertorous66 breathing. Even then it was some time before she could induce him to swallow the medicine, and it required no less than three powerful doses, together with much black coffee and followed by a cold bath, to restore him to presentable condition. In the end, however, she succeeded in getting him to the theatre in time for the matinée.
Through it all she uttered no single word of reproach, but waited on the man with at least every outward sign of sympathy and devotion.
His remorse67 (when another nap at the hotel after the matinée had brought him to more complete realization68 of what had happened) was touching69 and, as long as it lasted, unquestionably sincere. Joan accepted without comment his lame70 explanation as to the manner of his temptation and fall during an all-night session at poker72 "with the boys," and gave genuine credulity to his protestations that it would never, never happen again.
But three weeks later in Chicago he repeated the performance, though under somewhat less distressing73 circumstances. As before, he left her in the lobby, "to finish his cigar and chin with Soandso." Within an hour he was half-led, half-carried to their room, in a hopelessly sodden74 condition. The actor with whom he had been drinking accompanied him, apparently75 quite sober, but puzzled; and after Quard had been helped to bed, explained to the girl that her husband's collapse77 had been incomprehensibly due to no more than three drinks.
"I never seen nothin' like it!" the man expostulated, with an air of grievance78. "There he was, standin' up against the bar, with his foot on the rail, laughin' and kiddin', same's the rest of us; and he'd only had three whiskeys—though I will say they was man-size drinks; and then, all of a sudden, he turns white as a sheet and starts mumblin' to himself, and we all thinks he's joshin' until he keels over, limp's a rag. If the stuff gets to him like that, he's got no business touchin' it, ever!"
These experiences continued at varying intervals79; and presently Joan began to understand that Quard had not only primarily a weakness to tempt71 him, but a constitutional inability to assert his will-power after he had surrendered to the extent of a single drink. One modest dose of alcohol seemed to exercise upon him a sort of hypnotic power, driving him on whether he would or not to the next, the next, and the next—until the nadir80 of unconsciousness was reached. It was not that he invariably succumbed81 to moderate indulgence, but that once started he rarely stopped until his identity was completely submerged. Indeed, the way of alcohol with him seemed never twice to follow the same route; but its end was invariably the same.
Hoping against hope, fighting with him, pleading, reasoning, threatening with him, even praying, Joan endured for a long time—much longer than, in retrospective days, seemed possible even to her; for she was honestly fond of her husband, far more so than she was ever of any other living being save herself.
They reached San Francisco the third week in April. For some time Quard had been drinking rather methodically but stealthily. A threat made by Joan, while he was sobering up from his last debauch82, to the effect that on repetition of the offence she would leave him without an hour's notice, had frightened the man to the extent of making him hesitate to add one drink to another except at intervals long enough to retard83 the cumulative84 effect; but never a day passed on which, in spite of her watchfulness85, he did not contrive86 to throw several sops87 to the devil in possession, if without ever quite losing his wits.
Detected with reeking88 breath, he would adopt one of three attitudes: he was a man, subject to the domination of no woman and of no appetite, had learned his lesson and now knew when to stop; or he was sorry—hadn't stopped to think—and wouldn't let it go any further; or nothing of the sort had happened, he had drunk nothing except a glass of soda-fountain nerve-tonic, or possibly it was his cigar that she smelled. With the first, Joan had no patience; and since she had a temper, it was the last resort in Quard's more sober stages, seldom employed save when potations had made him either indifferent or vicious. In his contrition89, whether real or assumed, she tried hard to believe. But his lies never deceived her: to these she listened in the silence of contempt and despair.
On the Wednesday afternoon of their week in San Francisco, the girl did a bit of shopping after the matinée; it was half after five before she returned to the hotel, and walked into their room to find Quard, with his coat off, seated in a chair that faced the door. His back was to the windows, through which the declining sun threw a flood of blinding golden light, so that Joan's dazzled vision comprehended only the dark silhouette90 of his body.
She said "Hello, dearie!" lightly enough in the abstraction of reviewing some especially pleasing purchases, closed the door, walked over to the bureau, put down her handbag and a small parcel, and removed her hat. Then the fact that Quard had not answered penetrated91 her reverie. Disposing of her hat, she looked half casually92 over her shoulder, to discover that he hadn't moved. Two surmises93 struck through her wonder: that he had fallen asleep waiting for her; with poignant94 apprehension, that he had been drinking again. But this seemed hardly likely: he had been entirely95 rational and unintoxicated during the matinée.
She said sharply: "What's the matter?"
Quard made no answer.
With a troubled sigh she moved to his chair and bent96 over him. His eyes, wide and blazing, met hers with a look of inflexible hostility and rage; his mouth was set like a trap, his lips, like his face, were almost colourless. The air was pungent97 with his breath, but intuitively she divined that it was not drunkenness alone which had aroused this temper, the more dismaying since it was for the time being under control.
From the look in his eyes she started back as from a blow.
"Charlie! What's the matter?"
Quard opened his lips, gulped98 spasmodically, closed them without speaking. The muscles on the left side of his face twitched99 nervously100.
Abruptly101 he shot up out of his chair, strode to the door, locked it and pocketed the key. His face as he turned was terrible to see.
She shrank away, but his eyes held hers in the fascination102 of fright.
"Why—Charlie!—what—"
He interrupted with an imperative103 gesture, took a step toward her, and shook his hand in her face. Between his thumb and forefinger104 glittered something exquisitely105 coruscant in the sunlight.
"What's that?" he demanded in a quivering voice.
She moved her head in assumed bewilderment, staggered to recognize the symbol of her broken troth with Matthias.
"I don't know. What is it? You keep moving it around so, I can't see...."
"There, then!" he cried, steadying the hand under her nose.
Instinctively106 her gaze veered107 to her trunk. Its lid was up. On the floor lay her work-basket in the litter of its former contents. Her indignation mounted.
"What were you doing in my trunk?" she demanded hotly.
Quard's eyes clouded under the impact of this counter attack. Momentarily his dazed expression made it very plain that he had taken advantage of her absence to drink heavily. And this was even more plain in the blurred108 accents, robbed of the sharpness rage had lent them, in which he endeavoured to justify109 himself.
"I wanted—shew on s'pender button—wanted work-basket...."
Anger returned; his voice mounted: "And I found this! What is it?"
Joan snatched at the ring, but he drew back his hand too quickly for her.
"It's mine. Give it to me!"
"Where'd you get it? Tha'sh what I wanna know!"
"None of your business. Give it—"
"T' hell it ain't my business. I'm your husband—gotta right to know where you get diamonds"—he sneered—"diamonds like this! I never bought it."
"No," she flamed back; "you're too stingy!"
"Stingy, am I?" He faltered110 swaying. "Tha'snough. I'm tightwad, so s'nother guy gets chansh to buy you diamonds. Tha's way of it, hey?"
"You give me that ring, Charlie," Joan demanded ominously111.
"You got anotha good guess coming. What I'll give you is jush two minutes to tell me name of the fellow't give it to you."
"Don't be a fool, Charlie!"
"I don't intend to be fool—any longer. You tell me or—"
He checked, searching his befuddled112 mind for a compelling threat.
With a shift of manner, Joan extended her hand in pleading.
"Give me the ring, Charlie, and be sensible. I haven't done anything wrong. I can explain."
"Well...." Grudgingly113 he dropped the ring into her palm. But immediately her fingers had closed upon it, mistrust again possessed him. "Now, you tell me—"
"Very well," she interrupted patiently. "You needn't shout. I don't mind telling you now. It's my engagement ring."
"Your what?" sharply.
"My engagement ring. I was engaged last summer to Mr. Matthias, before we began to rehearse the sketch114."
"Engaged?" he iterated stupidly. "Engaged for what?"
"Engaged to be married. He was in love with me. I meant to marry him until you and I met the second time—"
"Meant to marry who?"
"Mr. Matthias. We—"
"Matthias? What Matthias?"
"John Matthias, the author—the playwright115. He wrote 'The Jade116 God.'"
Quard wagged his head cunningly. "Y'mean to tell me you was engaged to that guy, and—didn't marry him?"
"Certainly. I married you, didn't I, dear?"
"And if that's true, how't happen you didn't give'm back his ring? Eh?"
"I meant to, Charlie, but he was out of town and I didn't know his address."
"That's likely!" The actor laughed harshly. "Tha'sh good one, that is! You going to marry him, and didn't know his address. Expect me to believe that?"
"It's true, Charlie—it's God's truth."
"You're a liar117!"
"Charlie—!"
"I say, you're a liar! Wha'sh more, I mean it."
Quard waved his hand, palm down, to indicate his scornful disposition118 of her yarn119. Then he staggered, steadied himself by clutching the back of a chair, and conscious how this betrayed his condition, worked himself into a towering rage to cover it.
"I know better. 'F you'd ever got a chance to marry that feller, you'd 've jumped at it. He'd never've got away. You wouldn't 've given him no more chance'n you did me—you'd 've pulled wool over his eyes same way. I know what'm talking about. You're a liar, a dam' dirty little liar, tha's what you are."
Joan's colour deserted120 her face entirely.
"Charlie! don't you say that to me again."
"And what'll you do? Think I care? I know what you'll do, all right, because I'm going make you do it."
"What do you mean?"
"Wha's more, I know now who gave you that ring. I was fool not to guess it before. I didn't give it to you—no! Mist' Matthias didn't give it to you—no! But somebody did give it to you—eh? Tha's right, isn't it? And his name—'s name was Vincent Marbridge! Wasn't it?"
He thrust his inflamed121 face close to hers, leering wickedly.
"Marbridge!" Joan echoed blankly.
"Vincent Marbridge—tha's the feller't give you the ring. He's the feller't could do it, too—got all the money in the world—enough to buy dozens'r rings—enough to buy you all them good clothes you got hold of after you threw me down and before I was ass12 enough to take up with you again! A' that, you were a fool not to get more outa him."
The insult ate like an acid into the pride of the girl. She flushed crimson122, then in an instant paled again. Her eyes grew cold and hard.
"That will do," she said bitterly. "You've said enough—too much. After all I've endured from you—your drunkenness, your—"
There was a maniac123 glare in the eyes of the man as he thrust his face still closer.
"And what'll you do, eh?" he shouted violently. "What'll you do?"
She turned her face aside, in disgust of his reeking breath.
"And what'll you do? Tell me that!"
"I'll leave you—"
"You betcha life you'll leave me. I knew that before you come into this room!"
"And I'm sorry I didn't go long ago—"
"The hell you are!" In a gust124 of uncontrollable frenzy125, Quard struck her sharply over the mouth. "You go—d'you hear?—you damn'——"
In blind fury Joan flung herself upon him, sobbing126, biting, scratching, kicking. He reeled back before that unexpected assault, then, sobered a trifle by its viciousness, caught her wrists, held her helpless for an instant, and threw her violently from him. She fell to her knees, lurched over on her side....
The door slammed: he was gone.
She knew the man too well not to know he would make instantly for the nearest bar; the only question was what guise127 intoxication128 would assume in him, this time. It was possible that he would drink himself raving129 mad and return fit for murder.
She must make her escape with all possible expedition....
Instantly Joan sat up, dried her eyes, convulsively swallowed her sobs130, and felt of her bruised131 mouth.
Before her on the carpet the diamond ring winked132 sardonically133 in the sunset light.
She pondered savagely134 the wide and deep damnation it had wrought135 in her life.
It seemed impossible that only a few minutes had elapsed since she had entered this room, an affectionate, patient, and not unhappy wife. Now she sifted136 her heart and found in it not one grain of the love it had once held for Quard. This alone would have rendered irrevocable her decision to leave him.
The thing was over—settled—finished.
She gave a gesture of finality.
With all her heart she hoped that the sketch would go to the devil without her....
Rising, she went to the mirror, to stare incredulously at the face it presented for her inspection137, a cruel caricature, lined, distorted, blowsy, stained with tears. At this vision, hysteria threatened again.
With a great effort she fought it down, and controlled and smoothed out the muscles of her face. Now she was more recognizable. Even her mouth was not seriously disfigured; he had struck with the flat of his hand only; her lips were sore and slightly but not markedly swollen138. A veil would disguise them completely.
At the wash-stand she devoted139 some very valuable moments to sopping140 her face with cold water, and particularly her mouth and eyes. The treatment toned down the inflammation of weeping, rendered her flesh firm and cool once more, and left her with a feeling of spiritual refreshment141, with nerves again under control and her will even more inalterably fixed than before.
Rouge142 and powder completed her rejuvenescence.
Turning to her trunk, she took out the tray—and paused with a low cry of consternation143. From the tumbled and disordered state of its contents, it was plain that, having discovered the ring, Quard had searched diligently144 for further confirmation145 of his suspicions.
With quickening breath, the girl dropped to her knees and hastily but thoroughly146 ransacked147 and turned out upon the floor all her belongings148. Within a brief period she satisfied herself of one appalling149 fact: Quard had not only insulted and struck her and cast her off—he had stooped to rob her. Her hands were tied: she had not money enough to leave him.
Probably, with the low cunning and fallacious reasoning of dipsomania, he had pouched150 her savings151 with that very thought in mind. Meaning to break with her, to have his scene and satisfy his lust152 for brutality153, he had also planned to prevent Joan's leaving the cast of "The Lie" until a successor could be found and broken in. Penniless (he had argued) she would be obliged to play on, at least until Saturday, to earn her fare back East.
It was Quard's practice to carry his money in large bills folded in a belt of oiled silk which he wore buckled154 round his waist, beneath his underclothing—with a smaller fund for running expenses in a leather bill-fold more accessibly disposed. But Joan (finding a money-belt uncomfortable because of her corsets) had adopted the shiftless plan of secreting155 her savings in a pocket contrived156 for that purpose in an old underskirt. And since she had always held her husband rigidly157 to account for her individual fifty dollars per week, she had managed thus to set aside about three hundred dollars. Unfortunately, it had been their habit to carry duplicate keys to one another's luggage by way of provision against loss.
So that now she was left with less than twenty dollars in her pocket-book.
She paced the floor in wrathful meditation158, pondering means and expedients159. Once or twice she noticed the ring, but passed it several times before she paused, picked it up, and abstractedly placed it on her finger.
It did not once occur to her that she could raise money by hypothecating the jewel at a pawn-shop: by hook or crook160 she was determined161 to regain162 her own money. She was wondering what good it would do her to threaten Quard with arrest. Had a wife any right to her earnings163, under the law?
After a time, she opened her handbag, found her personal bunch of keys, and unlocked her husband's trunk. Her pains, however, went for nothing; she investigated diligently every pocket of his clothing without discovering a piece of money of any description. But one thing she did find to make her thoughtful—Quard's revolver....
Removing this last, she relocked the trunk and rang for a bell-boy. Then she put the weapon on the bureau and covered it with her hat.
The youth who answered had an intelligent look. Joan appraised164 him narrowly before trusting him. She opened negotiations165 with a dollar tip.
"I want you to find my husband for me," she said. "If he's anywhere around the hotel, he'll probably be in the bar. But look everywhere, and then come and tell me. You needn't say anything to him. I just want to know where he is. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'm."
"You'd know him if you saw him—Mr. Quard, the actor?"
"Yes, ma'm."
"That's all. Hurry."
As soon as the boy was gone she turned again to her luggage, selecting indispensable garments and toilet articles and packing them in a suit-case. By the time a knock sounded again upon the door, she had the case strapped166 and locked.
"He ain't nowhere about the house, ma'm," the bell-boy reported. "He was in the bar a while, but he's went out."
Joan nodded, was dumb in thought.
"Do you want as I should go look for him, ma'am?"
"Can you leave the hotel?" Joan asked quickly.
"I'm just going off-duty now, ma'm; the night shift came on about ten minutes ago, at six o'clock."
"And you think you could possibly find him?"
"He took a cab, ma'm. The driver's stand is in front of the hotel. If I can find him, I can find where your husband went. Anyhow, it ain't hard to follow up a gentleman as—"
"As drunk!" Joan put in when the boy hesitated.
"Yes, ma'm."
Joan weighed the chance distrustfully; but it was at least a chance, and this was no time to be careful. Taking a five-dollar gold-piece from her scanty167 store, she gave it to the boy.
"Go find him," she said. "And if he seems to know what he's doing—just hang around until he doesn't: he won't keep you waiting long. Then bring him to me. But first take this suit-case down to the union Ferry house, check it in the baggage-room, and give me the check when you bring him back. And—don't say anything to anybody."
"Yes, ma'm—no, ma'm."
Supperless, she sat down to wait, Quard's revolver ready to her hand.
Twilight168 waned169; night fell; hours passed. Motionless and imperturbable170, Joan waited on, the tensity of her mood betrayed only by the burning of her baleful, dangerous eyes.
At half-past nine a noise of scuffling feet, gruff voices and heavy breathing in the hallway, following the clash of an elevator gate, brought her to her feet. Going to the bureau, she opened a drawer and put the revolver away.
There would be no need of that, now.
Answering a knock, she threw the door wide. Two porters staggered in, one with the shoulders, one with the feet of Quard. The bell-boy followed. When they had lugged171 to the bed that inert172 and insensate thing she had once loved, Joan tipped the men and they departed. The boy lingered.
"Is there anything more I can do, ma'm?"
"Where did you find him?"
"Down on the Coast. I don't know what wouldn't've happened to him if you hadn't sent me after him. He was up an alley—had been stuck up by a couple of strong-arms. I seen 'em making their get-away just as I come in sight."
She uttered a cry of despair: "Robbed—you mean?"
"Yes, ma'm. He ain't got as much's a nickel on him."
Overwhelmed, Joan sank into a chair. The boy avoided her desolate173 eyes; he was a little afraid she might want part of the five dollars back.
"Hadn't I better send the hotel doctor up, ma'm?"
"Perhaps," she muttered dully.
"Yes, ma'm. And here's the check for your suit-case. Nothing else? Good night, ma'm."
The door closed.
Of a sudden, Joan jumped up and ran to the bed in the alcove174.
Quard's condition was pitiable, but in her excited no compassion175. His face was pallid176 as a death-mask save on one cheek-bone, where there was an angry and livid contusion. His hands were scratched, bleeding, and filthy177, his clothing begrimed and torn, his pockets turned inside out. He seemed scarcely to breathe, and a thin froth flecked his slack and swollen lips.
With feverish178 haste she unbuttoned his shirt and trousers and tugged at his undershirt. Then she sobbed179 aloud, a short, dry sob76 of relief. She had discovered the money-belt. In another minute she had unbuckled and withdrawn180 it from his body. She took it to the other room, to the light, and hastily undid181 its fastenings.
There were perhaps two dozen fresh, new bills, for the most part of large denominations182, folded once lengthwise to fit into the narrow silken tube; but someone knocked before she found time to reckon up their sum.
Hastily cramming183 the money, together with the tell-tale belt, into her handbag, Joan took a deep breath and said "Come in!"
There entered a grave man of middle-age, carrying a physician's satchel184.
He said, with a slight inclination185 of his head: "Mrs. Quard, I believe?"
"Yes," Joan gasped186. She nodded toward the alcove: "Your patient's in there."
He murmured some acknowledgment, turning away to the bedside. For several minutes he worked steadily187 over the drunkard. While she waited, her wits awhirl, Joan mechanically pinned on her hat.
Presently the physician stepped back into the room, removed his coat, turned back his cuffs188, and produced a pocket hypodermic. With narrowing eyes he recognized Joan's preparations for the street.
"Is he all right, doctor?" she said with a feint of doubt and fear.
"He's in pretty bad shape, but I guess we can pull him round, all right. But I need your help. You were going out?"
She met his eyes steadily. "I was only waiting to hear how he was. I've got to hurry off to the theatre. I'm late now. If we miss the performance tonight, we may lose our booking. And he's just been held up—all we've got's what's coming to us next Saturday."
"I see. And you can do without him?"
"His understudy'll take his part—we'll manage somehow."
"Then I am afraid I shall have to call in assistance—a trained nurse."
"Do, please, doctor."
"Very well."
He moved toward the telephone.
"I'll be back in about an hour."
"Very well, Mrs. Quard."
He stared, perplexed189, at the door, when she had shut it....
Avoiding the elevator and lobby, she slipped down the stairs and through a side door to the street.
In ten minutes she was at the union Ferry.
Within an hour she was in Oakland, purchasing through tickets for her transcontinental flight.
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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initiate
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| vt.开始，创始，发动；启蒙，使入门；引入 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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6
riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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7
pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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8
stratum
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| n.地层，社会阶层 | |
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9
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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11
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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12
ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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13
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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14
robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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15
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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16
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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17
texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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18
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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19
analyzing
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| v.分析；分析( analyze的现在分词 )；分解；解释；对…进行心理分析n.分析 | |
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20
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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21
deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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22
excellences
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| n.卓越( excellence的名词复数 )；（只用于所修饰的名词后）杰出的；卓越的；出类拔萃的 | |
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23
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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24
inflexible
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| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
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25
autocracy
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| n.独裁政治，独裁政府 | |
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26
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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27
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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28
quell
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| v.压制，平息，减轻 | |
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29
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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30
truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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31
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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32
license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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33
pander
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| v.迎合；n.拉皮条者，勾引者；帮人做坏事的人 | |
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34
adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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35
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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36
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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37
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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38
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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39
nauseating
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| adj.令人恶心的，使人厌恶的v.使恶心，作呕( nauseate的现在分词 ) | |
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40
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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41
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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42
defile
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| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
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43
bleached
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| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
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44
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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45
buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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46
morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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47
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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48
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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49
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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50
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
formulating
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| v.构想出( formulate的现在分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
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52
intrigues
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| n.密谋策划( intrigue的名词复数 )；神秘气氛；引人入胜的复杂情节v.搞阴谋诡计( intrigue的第三人称单数 )；激起…的好奇心 | |
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53
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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54
purloiner
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| [法] 小偷，窃盗者 | |
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55
tardy
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| adj.缓慢的，迟缓的 | |
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56
blemish
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| v.损害；玷污；瑕疵，缺点 | |
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57
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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58
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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59
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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60
glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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61
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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62
obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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63
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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64
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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65
aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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66
stertorous
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| adj.打鼾的 | |
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67
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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68
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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69
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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70
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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71
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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72
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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73
distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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74
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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75
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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76
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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77
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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78
grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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79
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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80
nadir
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| n.最低点，无底 | |
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81
succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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82
debauch
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| v.使堕落，放纵 | |
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83
retard
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| n.阻止，延迟；vt.妨碍，延迟，使减速 | |
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84
cumulative
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| adj.累积的，渐增的 | |
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85
watchfulness
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| 警惕，留心； 警觉（性） | |
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86
contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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87
sops
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| n.用以慰藉或讨好某人的事物( sop的名词复数 )；泡湿的面包片等v.将（面包等）在液体中蘸或浸泡( sop的第三人称单数 )；用海绵、布等吸起（液体等） | |
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88
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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89
contrition
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| n.悔罪，痛悔 | |
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90
silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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91
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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92
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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93
surmises
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的第三人称单数 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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94
poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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95
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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96
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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97
pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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98
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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99
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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100
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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101
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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102
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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103
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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104
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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105
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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106
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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107
veered
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| v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的过去式和过去分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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108
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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109
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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110
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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111
ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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112
befuddled
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| adj.迷糊的，糊涂的v.使烂醉( befuddle的过去式和过去分词 )；使迷惑不解 | |
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113
grudgingly
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114
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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115
playwright
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| n.剧作家，编写剧本的人 | |
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116
jade
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| n.玉石；碧玉；翡翠 | |
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117
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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118
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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119
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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120
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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121
inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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122
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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123
maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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124
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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125
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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126
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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127
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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128
intoxication
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| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
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129
raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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130
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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132
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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133
sardonically
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| adv.讽刺地，冷嘲地 | |
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134
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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135
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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136
sifted
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| v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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137
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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138
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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139
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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140
sopping
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| adj. 浑身湿透的 动词sop的现在分词形式 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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142
rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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143
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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144
diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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145
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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146
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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147
ransacked
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| v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
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148
belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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149
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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150
pouched
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| adj.袋形的，有袋的 | |
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151
savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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152
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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153
brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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154
buckled
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| a. 有带扣的 | |
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155
secreting
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| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的现在分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
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156
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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rigidly
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| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
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158
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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159
expedients
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| n.应急有效的，权宜之计的( expedient的名词复数 ) | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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161
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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162
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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earnings
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| n.工资收人；利润，利益，所得 | |
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appraised
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| v.估价( appraise的过去式和过去分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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negotiations
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| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
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166
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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167
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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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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169
waned
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| v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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170
imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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171
lugged
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| vt.用力拖拉（lug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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172
inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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173
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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174
alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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175
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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176
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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177
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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178
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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179
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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180
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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181
Undid
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| v. 解开, 复原 | |
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182
denominations
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| n.宗派( denomination的名词复数 )；教派；面额；名称 | |
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183
cramming
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| n.塞满，填鸭式的用功v.塞入( cram的现在分词 )；填塞；塞满；（为考试而）死记硬背功课 | |
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184
satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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185
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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186
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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187
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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188
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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189
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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