Captain Dove grinned spitefully at him through the gloom of the small hours. "You'd better be off below and pack up," the old man suggested. "You'll be going ashore5 as soon as we get pratique."
"But—I'll be back. Give me time to turn!" Slyne snarled6 at him. "A bargain's a bargain, and—I'll be back."
"You'd better not," Captain Dove advised in a very ominous7 voice, and went on his way below, leaving Slyne to his own aggrieved8, embittered9 reflections.
To Jasper Slyne the past few days had been like a foretaste of purgatory11. Captain Dove had interdicted12 all communication with Sallie, and had proved a most unpleasant companion himself throughout the unspeakably wearisome passage from the North-west African coast, a passage made at the poorest speed of the ship because coal was scarce and he was afraid to call anywhere by the way to fill up his bunkers. Amid the dire13 squalor and discomfort14, the enforced inaction and loneliness of life under such conditions, Slyne's only solace15 had been the hope of finally winning Sallie, by fair means or foul16. He who, in his time, had met and made love to so many charming adventuresses, who would not have thought any more about her had she been one of their sort, had become absolutely obsessed19 by ambitions to be fulfilled with her for his wife.
And now—he knew that neither force nor finesse20 would avail him against Captain Dove's ultimatum21. He had not the cash to meet the old man's demands, and that was apparently22 the end of the matter.
Most men, in Slyne's place, would have owned themselves beaten then. But not so he. Thinking it all over again, he would admit to himself no more than that he was for the moment baffled by contrary circumstances; circumstances such as had been his lot for so long that he could contemplate23 them almost unmoved. It was his happy creed24 that in the very face of failure itself one may, as often as not, discern the inspiriting features of final success. The dark hour that heralds25 dawn he spent pacing the cluttered26 quarter-deck of the Olive Branch in the cold, his far-away eyes always fixed27 on the twinkling dock-lights, his almost bloodless lips straight and compressed under his black moustache, cudgelling his brains for some safe means of immediately obtaining the money he wanted.
He had not the cash to meet Captain Dove's demands. But neither was he so entirely28 penniless as Captain Dove supposed him. He had only a hundred dollars in hand, but he had twenty thousand francs at his credit in a French bank. Many a millionaire had risen to affluence29 from infinitely30 smaller beginnings.
But it would have been idle to offer Captain Dove any such trifling31 sum on account of the price he had set on Sallie. And, rack his own overworked wits as he would, Slyne could think of no safe plan for turning his modest capital over at a sufficient profit within the time at his disposal.
"The only possible way," he told himself finally, his teeth set, "the only possible way is to chance my luck at those cursèd tables again. Although, God knows that's a risk I'd give up anything else to avoid. But—it's the only possible way now," he repeated vexedly, recalling the very excellent reasons he had for never showing his face in Monte Carlo again.
For, only a season or two before, he had figured throughout the C?te d'Azur as accessory in an affaire with which the whole civilised world had afterwards rung, in spite of every effort to hush32 it up, an affaire whose tragic33 consequences had caused such a flutter of scandalised chagrin34 among the private police of three great European powers that he could never again cross their frontiers without fear. Since he knew very well that, if he were ever identified, he would deservedly disappear, without any further fuss, to spend the rest of his life as a nameless cypher, forgotten, among the living dead, entombed in some secure fortress35. In that cosmopolitan36 underworld to which such as Slyne belong, occur many curious incidents not reported in the newspapers, and the citizens of Cosmopolis have nowhere consul37 or minister to protect them against unfortunate consequences.
Slyne had no illusions as to what his fate would be if he were recognised on the Riviera.
"But she's worth the stake," he told himself with dogged determination, "even though it is life and liberty as well as my last few francs. And—I'd just as soon be done with things if I can't capture Sallie from that old scoundrel."
He knew very well, of course, that his prospect38 of making a financial success at the tables was no less of a forlorn hope. But he had all a professional gambler's blind faith in the goddess of chance. And since he would not withdraw from the contest, he had no option but to play that losing hazard also.
Day had broken before he had completed his plans. And then Captain Dove reappeared, sleepy-eyed and unshaven, to interview the port-doctor.
As soon as that functionary39 had glanced at the forged Bill of Health put before him and seen the crew mustered40 to the tally41 it told, the yellow flag at the fore10 was hauled down and Captain Dove hailed a shore-boat, to which he had Slyne's baggage transferred, and curtly42 told Slyne to be off ashore.
Nor did Slyne delay to bid him farewell. Each was heartily44 sick of the sight of the other, and each had plans of his own to promote in a hurry. They separated without so much as a nod. Sallie was invisible. And Slyne, in the boat on his way to the Custom-house, only looked back once at the ports of the poop-cabin, to see, within the dingy45 brass46 frame of one, a face that seemed to be watching him very thankfully as he went, a horrible face, with blubber lips, almost inhumanly47 ugly, the face of Sallie's devoted48 attendant, the dumb black dwarf49, Ambrizette.
A yawning Customs' searcher glanced at his baggage and passed it unopened. In return for which courtesy Slyne bestowed50 upon him a doubtful rix-dollar and a few words in fluent Italian concerning the Olive Branch—words which would not improve Captain Dove's prospects51 of an early departure from Genoa, but might, conversely, increase by a little his own scanty52 time-allowance in that desperate bout18 with fortune to which he had committed himself. He knew that Captain Dove was intent on coaling and sailing again without the loss of a minute that might be saved.
He had all his own movements mapped out in anticipation53. He drove to an hotel at which he had stayed once before, and, after a Turkish bath and breakfast, went on to the Crédit Lyonnais office to cash his draft. Then he made a number of purchases in inconspicuous shops, where he had to spend a good deal of time in bargaining, looked in at the Motor-Car Mart & Exchange, where he saw a big touring-car over which he argued for some minutes with the salesman; and, after a belated but liberal lunch in a first-class restaurant, he turned back toward the sale-room.
A man in an elaborate chauffeur54's uniform, and evidently English, stopped him in the street outside, to ask whether he would care to buy a gold cigarette-case, a bargain. Slyne looked him over, and sized him up at a glance.
"Stranded55?" he asked, and the man nodded sulkily.
"Want a few days' work?"
The chauffeur's dissipated face brightened.
"Yes, sir," said he, "I do."
"Wait here, then," said Slyne, and went inside.
"Well," he asked the salesman, "have you thought it over? What's the last word?"
"Fifteen thousand lire, milor—not a soldo less," declared the dapper, frock-coated salesman, in a tone of final decision which Slyne's sharp ears judged unfeigned. "The car is worth twice as much. Indeed, I could not let it go at such a ruinous loss were it not—But, ecco! The owner himself. He would probably be very ill pleased to hear it was actually sold at that ridiculous price."
Slyne looked round at the grey-haired, portly, prosperous-looking individual threading his way through the agglomeration56 of cars in the background, and his half-parted lips snapped together again.
He wanted that particular car and had made up his mind to buy it, rash though such an investment might prove, but he had surmised57 from a lynx-like glance at the seller that he might be able to get it for even less than the salesman was authorised to accept. And, since his own pockets were so poorly lined for the expensive part he was playing, he, who despised chaffering, was yet bent58 on making the very best bargain he could.
"It's more than I've got about me," he told the salesman in a very audible voice, as the fat man in the fur coat halted indeterminately a few paces away. And at the words the new-comer's puffy face lighted up, as if with relief, behind the pince-nez he was wearing. He came forward and spoke59.
"An Englishman, by Jove!" he remarked with a great semblance60 of geniality61. "So am I. Very happy to meet you, sir. You're interested in my car?"
"Not at the price," Slyne returned, with an indifferent hauteur62 which he judged likely to be effective with one in the stranger's presumable plight63. And the fat man's lips drooped64 visibly, the pouches65 under his uneasy eyes became more marked. He was obviously disappointed, and felt himself snubbed. He did not seem quite sure what to say or do next.
Slyne, congratulating himself on his talent for character reading, turned away, to look at a cheap runabout, as carelessly as though he had all time at his disposal, instead of being, as he was, in a fever of ill-restrained impatience66. The salesman figuratively washed his hands of them both; he could already foresee a forced sale at a calamitous67 sacrifice. And so it fell out.
Slyne, cavalier to the verge68 of rudeness, finally bought the big scarlet69 car, which the other almost forced upon him, for about half its market value, and paid for it there and then, in the new French notes which had almost been burning a hole in his pocket since he had left the Crédit Lyonnais office—so eager was he to be off on his last forlorn hope of winning Sallie.
"If you had allowed me only a few hours longer, I could have got you twice that amount," said the disappointed salesman in a stage aside to the seller as he counted over his own diminished commission. But the fat man merely bestowed on him a look of contemptuous annoyance71, and, having signed the receipt Slyne required, tucked away in an empty pocket-book the balance of the crisply-rustling bills he had just received.
Even then he did not appear to know what next to do with himself. For, having glanced at his watch, he gave vent17 to a grunt72 of disgust, and hung on his heel undecidedly, after making a move to go.
"It's only about a hundred miles to Monaco, isn't it?" Slyne asked the salesman; and was answered in the affirmative.
The fat man gasped73 and choked for a moment, and then spoke again, with more confidence: a change due, perhaps, to the improvement in his finances.
"Pardon me, sir," said he, "but—if you're going that way, I wonder—It would be a most tremendous favour to me, and I haven't haggled74 over giving you the best of our bargain. The train's just gone, and—"
Slyne, chin in air, once more looked him over appraisingly75, as he stammered76 and hesitated; and was very much disposed to cut him adrift without more ado. But some indefinable impulse, some feeling that here was a bird of a feather very sadly astray, caused him to alter his mind. "I'll be glad to give you a lift," he said, more graciously, "if you're ready to start now. But I can't wait."
The fat man's face lighted up again. "My luck's on the mend at last!" he declared. "I'm in as great a hurry as you can be, sir. I'm more than obliged to you for your courtesy. May I offer you my card?"
Slyne glanced at the slip of pasteboard conferred upon him while the car was being shifted out of the showroom into the street, where his elaborate chauffeur was in waiting. And, "Jump in, Mr. Jobling," he requested with unconcealed coldness as he himself took the wheel, relegating77 the chauffeur to a back seat. It ruffled78 his self-satisfied mood of the moment more than a little to learn that the fat man in the fur coat was in fact a London solicitor79. With the law in any shape or form Jasper Slyne wanted nothing whatever to do, and especially at such a juncture80. He was already repenting81 his ill-timed politeness.
However, he could not very well rid himself of his passenger then. All he could do was to dash through the busy streets of Genoa in the dusk at a pace calculated to make the hair of any respectable and self-respecting solicitor stand on end. But, out of the corner of one eye, he observed that Mr. Jobling was wearing a blandly82 contented83 smile.
That gentleman did not seem so well pleased, however, as they turned up-hill into the Via Roma, and Slyne, understanding, relented a little again. "I have some baggage at the Isotta," he volunteered, and the cloud at once lifted from Mr. Jobling's brow.
Several assiduous porters stowed hastily in the tonneau, beside the ornamental84 chauffeur, the travel-worn trunks and suit-cases which Slyne had left there that morning, and stood at the salute85 till he drove away, when they no doubt returned to their lairs86 to count the profits of such politeness. He had, as usual, been very lavish87 with his small change. And his passenger was also impressed by his liberality.
Meanwhile the car was negotiating more carefully the lumpy patchwork88 with which the old Via Carlo Alberto is paved, and Mr. Jobling's puffy features spoke his discontent over its slow progress. But, once beyond Sampierdarena, clear of close traffic, on the open road to Savona, Slyne made more speed; and it was self-evident that he knew how to get the most out of his horse-power.
He looked, indeed,—if looks go for anything nowadays,—quite at home, very much in his element, lying lazily back in the driver's seat of the richly-appointed car which had been his companion's an hour before. It was late on a winter afternoon, and what wind there was had a chill in it, caught, no doubt, in crossing the Apennines. But Slyne also was wearing a heavy fur coat and had pulled on a pair of gauntlets at the hotel.
As the car rocked and swayed on its rapid way through the last outskirts89 of Savona, he was humming light-heartedly to himself the antique aria90 of The Man who Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo.
"Been gambling91 a bit?" he presently asked his silent companion. And Mr. Jobling admitted the soft impeachment92.
"And no luck," Slyne inferred amusedly. He could view with an equable eye the misfortunes of others as well as his own; especially since the stout93 solicitor's losses had brought his own way such a substantial profit as could be readily realised by the re-sale of his car.
"No luck at all," Mr. Jobling affirmed explosively, and the troubles fermenting94 in his mind at length found outlet95 in speech. "I wouldn't have believed anyone could have been so unlucky!" he declared with great bitterness; "and at such a critical moment. I want so little, too; I've no ambition to break the bank. It wasn't with any such foolish idea that I came to Monte Carlo. I wouldn't have had this happen for all the bank holds."
"Which isn't a great deal," commented Slyne. "I've broken the bank more than once myself, and lost twice as much the next evening."
"You play some system, perhaps?" his companion inquired, but Slyne shook his head reminiscently. "I've tried several myself, but none seemed to be of the slightest use. And now—It doesn't matter, of course. I didn't come to Monaco to make money; I'm not such a fool! But it's most infernally inconvenient96 ... may cost me my chance of a fortune ... practically within my grasp." His voice had died away to a mere70 mutter. Slyne was smiling in disdain97.
"But I can't go on losing at the tables for ever," he exploded again. "My turn must come. I feel in better fettle this evening—as if my luck had changed. It's no doubt since I met you; I must thank you again for this lift. If I'd had to wait in Genoa for the slow train, I might have got back too late to take the tide at the flood. I'm a great believer, you know, in striking while the iron's hot."
"So am I," said Slyne dryly, and much amused by his monologue98.
"I'm sure my luck's on the mend," Mr. Jobling went on, growing still more communicative under encouragement, "and the mere matter of winning a few thousand francs is nothing to what will follow—what must follow. I've made up my mind to win all along the line; and there's a great deal in the theory that, if you apply sufficient will-power to any project, its success is assured. I'm ab-so-lutely determined99 to win fifty thousand francs to-night, and then ... I fancy it was a mistake to come here at all.... But, of course, a man who never makes a mistake will never make anything.... I'll go straight back to London, and surely, among the five or six million people there....
"Look out! Good—God!"
Between his two excited ejaculations Slyne had outwitted calamity100. Taking a rash curve at top speed, he had come to an unexpected rectangle in the roadway running almost parallel there with the shore below, and, rounding that corner safely with a quick wrench101 of the wheel, had almost crashed into a heavy, high-built ox-wagon102 which was backing blindly out from some steep, hidden side-lane. The hubs of the car's wheels had all but grazed the parapet of the roadway at Mr. Jobling's side, and Slyne, on the other, had barely escaped being brained by the timbers protruding103 from the rear of the wagon. The ornamental chauffeur was fast asleep in the tonneau behind.
Mr. Jobling lay back and gasped while Slyne held on as if nothing had happened, at the same breakneck pace. But neither spoke again for some time.
Through village after village they dashed, always at grave risk and yet without accident. The moon rose just before they reached Alassio. Slyne even managed to improve the pace a little then, and his passenger made no protest, but sat with eyes downcast, his lips always moving mutely.
"A slight overdraft104 on the future—it's no more than that," remarked Mr. Jobling a little later, as if he had been alone, and Slyne looked round at him for an instant, with nostrils105 curled in a faint, superior smile.
Slyne thought he could guess some part at least of the troubles afflicting106 his chance acquaintance, and was very little inclined to hear more about them. He was too busy considering his own plan of campaign, the blood in his own veins107 was running too briskly under the stimulus108 of that wild flight through the keen night air, to waste any time or thought on another man's worries. But—a fellow-feeling makes us wondrous109 kind. "Cheer up!" said he suddenly. "Every one overdraws110 more or less on his luck, at one time or another. If that's all you've done, it's nothing to mope about."
Mr. Jobling sat up with a start, and stared at him. "That's all," he asserted, a little too hurried in his assurance. "I give you my word, sir...." And then he recollected112 himself and laughed uncomfortably, confused.
"I've been thinking aloud," said he. "But you mustn't take any notice of that. It's a bad habit of mine. And, as you say, we all overdraw111 on the future, from time to time. As a man of the world, sir, you'll understand what I mean to convey to you. And of course these little overdrafts113 are always met when they're due.
"What a fine night this is for a fast spin!"
"What's the nature of your present overdraft?" Slyne inquired perversely114, safe in the certainty that the other could not resent that rudeness, and was again amused by Mr. Jobling's cough of discomfiture115.
But, "Purely116 metaphorical," that gentleman countered cleverly. "We'll soon be in San Remo at this rate. I wouldn't wonder if we've established a record. It isn't every day there's such a car in the market."
"No, it isn't," Slyne agreed. "Nor a buyer for it." And conversation languished117 again.
But Slyne's spirits, none the less, were steadily118 rising as he drew nearer, mile by mile, to the chief temple of that goddess of chance to whom he looked to befriend him now—since it was not on his own behalf alone that he was seeking her shrine119, since mischance must entail120 consequences so dire to Sallie as well as to him. The personal risk he was running lent added zest121 to the piquancy122 of his most unusual position as a champion of maidenhood123 in distress124. And what Sallie's fate would be if his own luck failed him, he could picture in vivid detail from his own experience of a world most men know nothing about.
Within a few days the Olive Branch, with a supply of cheap coal and some makeshift repairs, would be gone from Genoa, leaving behind no trace but such bills as Captain Dove could escape without paying. She would enter Port Said and leave Suez in some effective disguise and under another assumed name which would last her through the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb; beyond which she would disappear, perhaps for good, into whatever strange world she might raise over the mysterious sea-rim which lies beyond "the Gate of the Place of Tears."
Captain Dove was an old man already. And even he could not for ever go on living such a life as he led. He had spoken of this trip East as his last, and it was his avowed125 object in it to turn Sallie to some account. Slyne, who, as you will perhaps suppose, was no squeamish moralist, sickened at thought of what time might still have in store for the girl.
"Just imagine her," said he to himself, "cooped up in some slat-eyed Chinaman's filthy126 yamen till she grows grey, or eating her heart out in some coffee-coloured sultan's clay palace, with nothing to comfort her but a crooked127 brass crown—and not even that by and by. It's damnable to think—But what's the use of thinking about it! I'm going to save her from all that—in spite of herself." And his selfishly sentimental128 mood of the moment once more gave place to a philosophic129 contentment with things as they were, and that in turn to an exhilarating anticipation of pleasures to come.
The lights of San Remo looked very alluring130 to him, who had for so long spent his nights at sea with no more companionable illuminant than a reeking131 kerosene132 lamp or the cold, aloof133 stars. He became jocular, in a lofty way, with the always impatient Jobling, and at the frontier was so patronisingly polite to the officials there that they let him pass almost at once, under the apparent impression that he was some personage of importance—a circumstance which lent him a little additional self-confidence.
From Menton Garavan in to Monte Carlo is only some seven miles. And for that short distance he sat silent, once more mentally reviewing the manifold chances of mischance ahead of him. While Mr. Jobling, beside him, continued to mumble134 and mutter at intervals135 of misfortune—no fault of his own—and fortune, that marvellous fortune which was to be his so soon, since he had made up his mind that it must.
"I'm absolutely determined," said Mr. Jobling, unconsciously raising his voice again. "Eh? What? Oh, yes. I beg your pardon. I have a room at the Métropole. Where are you going to put up?"
"I always stay at the Paris," Slyne lied easily. He had no inclination136 for any more of his companion's society, especially while he had no idea how he himself might be received at any hotel in the Principality.
"I'll walk on from here, then, if you'll allow me," suggested that gentleman. "And—er—by the way, you won't be mentioning to anyone the circumstances—er—about the car."
"We'll let it be understood that I bought it in London—last month," said Slyne, ready to be obliging since it would be for his own benefit; and, cutting short with a curt43 "Good night" some further profuse137 expressions of gratitude138 on the part of his passenger, glad, indeed, to be so well quit of him, drove on in more state, his sleepy chauffeur in the seat vacated by Mr. Jobling, to make his next move in that desperate game in which he was going to stake life and liberty also on the infinitesimal chance of returning triumphant139 to Genoa to claim Sallie from Captain Dove.
For, "If they spot me, I'll blow out my brains before they can lay hands on me," said he to himself as he drew up with an imperative140 honk-honk-honk! before the H?tel de Paris.
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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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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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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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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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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purgatory
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| n.炼狱；苦难；adj.净化的，清洗的 | |
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interdicted
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| v.禁止（行动）( interdict的过去式和过去分词 )；禁用；限制 | |
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dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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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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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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obsessed
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| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
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finesse
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| n.精密技巧，灵巧，手腕 | |
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ultimatum
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| n.最后通牒 | |
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apparently
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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heralds
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| n.使者( herald的名词复数 )；预报者；预兆；传令官v.预示( herald的第三人称单数 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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cluttered
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| v.杂物，零乱的东西零乱vt.( clutter的过去式和过去分词 )；乱糟糟地堆满，把…弄得很乱；（以…） 塞满… | |
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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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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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affluence
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| n.充裕，富足 | |
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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32
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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33
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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34
chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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35
fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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36
cosmopolitan
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| adj.世界性的，全世界的，四海为家的，全球的 | |
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37
consul
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| n.领事；执政官 | |
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38
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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39
functionary
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| n.官员；公职人员 | |
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40
mustered
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的过去式和过去分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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41
tally
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| n.计数器，记分，一致，测量；vt.计算，记录，使一致；vi.计算，记分，一致 | |
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42
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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43
curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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44
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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45
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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46
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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47
inhumanly
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| adv.无人情味地，残忍地 | |
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48
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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49
dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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50
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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52
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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53
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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54
chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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55
stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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56
agglomeration
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| n.结聚，一堆 | |
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57
surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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58
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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59
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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60
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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61
geniality
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| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
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62
hauteur
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| n.傲慢 | |
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63
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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64
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65
pouches
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| n.（放在衣袋里或连在腰带上的）小袋( pouch的名词复数 )；（袋鼠等的）育儿袋；邮袋；（某些动物贮存食物的）颊袋 | |
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66
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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67
calamitous
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| adj.灾难的，悲惨的；多灾多难；惨重 | |
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68
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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69
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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70
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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71
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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72
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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73
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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74
haggled
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| v.讨价还价( haggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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75
appraisingly
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| adv.以品评或评价的眼光 | |
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76
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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77
relegating
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| v.使降级( relegate的现在分词 )；使降职；转移；把…归类 | |
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78
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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79
solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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80
juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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81
repenting
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的现在分词 ) | |
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82
blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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83
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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84
ornamental
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| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
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85
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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86
lairs
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| n.（野兽的）巢穴，窝( lair的名词复数 )；（人的）藏身处 | |
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87
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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88
patchwork
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| n.混杂物；拼缝物 | |
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89
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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90
aria
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| n.独唱曲，咏叹调 | |
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91
gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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92
impeachment
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| n.弹劾；控告；怀疑 | |
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94
fermenting
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| v.（使）发酵( ferment的现在分词 )；（使）激动；骚动；骚扰 | |
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95
outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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96
inconvenient
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| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
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97
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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98
monologue
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| n.长篇大论，（戏剧等中的）独白 | |
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99
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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100
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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101
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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102
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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103
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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104
overdraft
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| n.透支，透支额 | |
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105
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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106
afflicting
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| 痛苦的 | |
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107
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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108
stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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109
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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110
overdraws
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| 透支( overdraw的第三人称单数 ) | |
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111
overdraw
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| n.透支，超支 | |
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112
recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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113
overdrafts
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| 透支，透支额( overdraft的名词复数 ) | |
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114
perversely
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| adv. 倔强地 | |
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115
discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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116
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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117
languished
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| 长期受苦( languish的过去式和过去分词 )； 受折磨； 变得（越来越）衰弱； 因渴望而变得憔悴或闷闷不乐 | |
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118
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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119
shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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120
entail
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| vt.使承担，使成为必要，需要 | |
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121
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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122
piquancy
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| n.辛辣，辣味，痛快 | |
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123
maidenhood
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| n. 处女性, 处女时代 | |
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124
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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125
avowed
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| adj.公开声明的，承认的v.公开声明，承认( avow的过去式和过去分词) | |
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126
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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127
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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128
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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129
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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130
alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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131
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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132
kerosene
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| n.(kerosine)煤油，火油 | |
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133
aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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134
mumble
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| n./v.喃喃而语，咕哝 | |
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135
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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136
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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137
profuse
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| adj.很多的，大量的，极其丰富的 | |
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138
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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139
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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140
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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