“By-the-bye, Mat,” he said, “we must sweep the place up, and look as respectable as we can, before to-morrow night. My friend Blyth is coming to spend a quiet evening with us. I stayed behind till all the visitors had gone, on purpose to ask him.”
“Do you mean he’s coming to have a drop of grog and smoke a pipe along with us two?” asked Mat rather amazedly.
“I mean he’s coming here, certainly; but as for grog and pipes, he never touches either. He’s the best and dearest fellow in the world; but I’m ashamed to say he’s spooney enough to like lemonade and tea. Smoking would make him sick directly; and, as for grog, I don’t believe a drop ever passes his lips from one year’s end to another. A weak head—a wretchedly weak head for drinking,” concluded Zack, tapping his forehead with an air of bland9 Bacchanalian10 superiority.
Mat seemed to have fallen into one of his thoughtful fits again. He made no answer, but holding the brandy-bottle standing11 by his side, up before the candle, looked in to see how much liquor was left in it.
“Don’t begin to bother your head about the brandy: you needn’t get any more of it for Blyth,” continued Zack, noticing his friend’s action. “I say, do you know that the best thing you ever did in your life was saving Valentine’s picture in that way? You have regularly won his heart by it. He was suspicious of my making friends with you before; but now he doesn’t seem to think there’s a word in the English language that’s good enough for you. He said he should be only too glad to thank you again, when I asked him to come and judge of what you were really like in your own lodging12. Tell him some of those splendid stories of yours. I’ve been terrifying him already with one or two of them at secondhand. Oh Lord! how hospitably13 we’ll treat him—won’t we? You shall make his hair stand on end, Mat; and I’ll drown him in his favorite tea.”
“What does he do with them picters of his?” asked Mat. “Sell ‘em?”
“Of course!” answered the other, confidently; “and gets enormous sums of money for them.” Whenever Zack found an opportunity of magnifying a friend’s importance, he always rose grandly superior to mere14 matter-of-fact restraints, and seized the golden moment without an instant of hesitation15 or a syllable16 of compromise.
“Get lots of money, does he?” proceeded Mat. “And keeps on hoarding18 of it up, I daresay, like all the rest of you over here?”
“He hoard17 money!” retorted Zack, “You never made a worse guess in your life. I don’t believe he ever hoarded19 six-pence since he was a baby. If Mrs. Blyth didn’t look after him, I don’t suppose there would be five pounds in the house from one year’s end to another.”
There was a moment’s silence. (It wasn’t because he had money in it, then, thought Mat, that he shut down the lid of that big chest of his so sharp. I wonder whether—)
“He’s the most generous fellow in the world,” continued Zack, lighting20 a cigar; “and the best pay: ask any of his tradespeople.”
This remark suspended the conjecture21 that was just forming in Mat’s mind. He gave up pursuing it quite readily, and went on at once with his questions to Zack. Some part of the additional information that he desired to obtain from young Thorpe, he had got already. He knew now, that when Mr. Blyth, on the day of the picture-show, shut down the bureau so sharply on Mr. Gimble’s approaching him, it was not, at any rate, because there was money in it.
“Is he going to bring anybody else in here along with him, to-morrow night?” asked Mat.
“Anybody else? Who should he bring? Why, you old barbarian22, you don’t expect him to bring Madonna into our jolly bachelor den8 to preside over the grog and pipes—do you?”
“How old is the young woman?” inquired Mat, contemplatively snuffing the candle with his fingers, as he put the question.
“Still harping23 on my daughter!” shouted Zack, with a burst of laughter. “She’s older than she looks, I can tell you that. You wouldn’t guess her at more than eighteen or nineteen. But the fact is, she’s actually twenty-three;—steady there! you’ll be through the window if you don’t sit quieter in your queer corner than that.”
(Twenty-three! The very number he had stopped at, when he reckoned off the difference on his fingers between 1828 and 1851, just before young Thorpe came in.)
“I suppose the next cool thing you will say, is that she’s too old for you,” Zack went on; “or, perhaps, you may prefer asking another question or two first. I’ll tell you what, old Rough and Tough, the inquisitive24 part of your character is beginning to be—”
“Bother all this talking!” interrupted Mat, jumping up suddenly as he spoke25, and taking a greasy26 pack of cards from the chimney-piece. “I don’t ask no questions, and don’t want no answers. Let’s have a drop of grog and a turn-to at Beggar-my-Neighbor. Sixpence a time. Come on!”
They sat down at once to their cards and their brandy-and-water; playing uninterruptedly for an hour or more. Zack won; and—being additionally enlivened by the inspiring influences of grog—rose to a higher and higher pitch of exhilaration with every additional sixpence which his good luck extracted from his adversary’s pocket. His gaiety seemed at last to communicate itself even to the imperturbable27 Mat, who in an interval28 of shuffling29 the cards, was heard to deliver himself suddenly of one of those gruff chuckles30, which have been already described as the nearest approach he was capable of making towards a civilized31 laugh.
He was so seldom in the habit of exhibiting any outward symptoms of hilarity32, that Zack, who was dealing33 for the new game, stopped in astonishment34, and inquired with great curiosity what it was his friend was “grunting about.” At first, Mat declined altogether to say;—then, on being pressed, admitted that his mind was just then running on the “old woman” Zack had spoken of; as having “suddenly fallen foul35 of him in Mr. Blyth’s house, because he wanted to give the young woman a present:” which circumstance, Mat added, “so tickled36 his fancy, that he would have paid a crown piece out of his pocket only to have seen and heard the whole squabble all through from beginning to end.”
Zack, whose fancy was now exactly in the right condition to be “tickled” by anything that “tickled” his friend, seized in high glee the humorous side of the topic suggested to him; and immediately began describing poor Mrs. Peckover’s personal peculiarities37 in a strain of the most ridiculous exaggeration. Mat listened, as he went on, with such admiring attention, and seemed to be so astonishingly amused by everything he said, that, in the excitement of success, he ran into the next room, snatched the two pillows off the bed, fastened one in front and the other behind him, tied the patchwork38 counterpane over all for a petticoat, and waddled39 back into his friend’s presence, in the character of fat Mrs. Peckover, as she appeared on the memorable40 evening when she stopped him mysteriously in the passage of Mr. Blyth’s house.
Zack was really a good mimic41; and he now hit off all the peculiarities of Mrs. Peckover’s voice, manner, and gait to the life—Mat chuckling42 all the while, rolling his huge head from side to side, and striking his heavy fist applaudingly on the table. Encouraged by the extraordinary effect his performances produced, Zack went through the whole of his scene with Mrs. Peckover in the passage, from beginning to end; following that excellent woman through all the various mazes43 of “rhodomontade” in which she then bewildered herself, and imitating her terror when he threatened to run upstairs and ask Mr. Blyth if Madonna really had a hair bracelet44, with such amazing accuracy and humor, as made Mat declare that what he had just beheld45 for nothing, would cure him of ever paying money again to see any regular play-acting as long as he lived.
By the time young Thorpe had reached the climax46 of his improvised47 dramatic entertainment, he had so thoroughly48 exhausted49 himself that he was glad to throw aside the pillows and the counterpane, and perfectly50 ready to spend the rest of the evening quietly over the newspaper. His friend did not interrupt him by a word, except at the moment when he sat down; and then Mat said, simply and carelessly enough, that he thought he should detect the original Mrs. Peckover directly by Zack’s imitation, if ever he met with her in the streets. To which Young Thorpe merely replied that he was not very likely to do anything of the sort; because Mrs. Peckover lived at Rubbleford, where her husband had some situation, and where she herself kept a little dairy and muffin shop. “She don’t come to town above once a-year,” concluded Zack as he lit a cigar; “and then the old beauty stops in-doors all the time at Blyth’s!”
Mat listened to this answer attentively51, but offered no further remark. He went into the back room, where the water was, and busied himself in washing up all the spare crockery of the bachelor household in honor of Mr. Blyth’s expected visit.
In process of time, Zack—on whom literature of any kind, high or low, always acted more or less as a narcotic—grew drowsy52 over his newspaper, let his grog get cold, dropped his cigar out of his mouth, and fell fast asleep in his chair. When he woke up, shivering, his watch had stopped, the candle was burning down in the socket53, the fire was out, and his fellow-lodger was not to be seen either in the front or the back room. Young Thorpe knew his friend’s strange fancy for “going out over night (as Mat phrased it) to catch the morning the first thing in the fields” too well to be at all astonished at now finding himself alone. He moved away sleepily to bed, yawning out these words to himself:—“I shall see the old boy back again as usual to-morrow morning as soon as I wake.”
When the morning came, this anticipation54 proved to be fallacious. The first objects that greeted Zack’s eyes when he lazily awoke about eleven o’clock, were an arm and a letter, introduced cautiously through his partially55 opened bedroom door. Though by no means contemptible56 in regard to muscular development, this was not the hairy and herculean arm of Mat. It was only the arm of the servant of all work, who held the barbarian lodger in such salutary awe57 that she had never been known to venture her whole body into the forbidden region of his apartments since he had first inhabited them. Zack jumped out of bed and took the letter. It proved to be from Valentine, and summoned him to repair immediately to the painter’s house to see Mrs. Thorpe, who earnestly desired to speak with him. His color changed as he read the few lines Mr. Blyth had written, and thought of the prospect58 of meeting his mother face to face for the first time since he had left his home. He hurried on his clothes, however, without a moment’s delay, and went out directly—now walking at the top of his speed, now running, in his anxiety not to appear dilatory59 or careless in paying obedience60 to the summons that had just reached him.
On arriving at the painter’s house, he was shown into one of the parlors61 on the ground floor; and there sat Mrs. Thorpe, with Mr. Blyth to keep her company. The meeting between mother and son was characteristic on both sides. Without giving Valentine time enough to get from his chair to the door—without waiting an instant to ascertain62 what sentiments towards him were expressed in Mrs. Thorpe’s face—without paying the smallest attention to the damage he did to her cap and bonnet—Zack saluted63 his mother with the old shower of hearty64 kisses and the old boisterously65 affectionate hug of his nursery and schoolboy days. And she, poor woman, on her side, feebly faltered66 over her first words of reproof—then lost her voice altogether, pressed into his hand a little paper packet of money that she had brought for him, and wept on his breast without speaking another word. Thus it had been with them long ago, when she was yet a young woman and he but a boy—thus, even as it was now in the latter and the sadder time!
Mrs. Thorpe was long in regaining67 the self-possession which she had lost on seeing her son for the first time since his flight from home. Zack expressed his contrition68 over and over again, and many times reiterated69 his promise to follow the plan Mr. Blyth had proposed to him when they met at the turnpike, before his mother became calm enough to speak three words together without bursting into tears. When she at last recovered herself sufficiently70 to be able to address him with some composure, she did not speak, as he had expected, of his past delinquencies or of his future prospects71, but of the lodging which he then inhabited, and of the stranger whom he had suffered to become his friend. Although Mat’s gallant72 rescue of “Columbus” had warmly predisposed Valentine in his favor, the painter was too conscientious73 to soften74 facts on that account, when he told Zack’s mother where her son was now living, and what sort of companion he had chosen to lodge6 with. Mrs. Thorpe was timid, and distrustful as all timid people are; and she now entreated75 him with nervous eagerness to begin his promised reform by leaving Kirk Street, and at once dropping his dangerous intimacy76 with the vagabond stranger who lived there.
Zack defended his friend to his mother, exactly as he had already defended him to Valentine—but without shaking her opinion, until he bethought himself of promising77 that in this matter, as in all others, he would be finally guided by the opinion of Mr. Blyth. The assurance so given, accompanied as it was by the announcement that Valentine was about to form his own judgment78 of Mr. Marksman by visiting the house in Kirk Street that very night, seemed to quiet and satisfy Mrs. Thorpe. Her last hopes for her son’s future, now that she was forced to admit the sad necessity of conniving79 at his continued absence from home, rested one and all on Mr. Blyth alone.
This first difficulty smoothed over, Zack asked with no little apprehension80 and anxiety, whether his father’s anger showed any symptoms of subsiding81 as yet. The question was an unfortunate one. Mrs. Thorpe’s eyes began to fill with tears again, the moment she heard it. The news she had now to tell her son, in answering his inquiries82, was of a very melancholy83 and a very hopeless kind.
The attack of palpitations in the heart which had seized Mr. Thorpe on the day of his son’s flight from Baregrove Square, had been immediately and successfully relieved by the medical remedies employed; but it had been followed, within the last day or two, by a terrible depression of spirits, under which the patient seemed to have given way entirely84, and for which the doctor was unable to suggest any speedy process of cure. Few in number at all times, Mr. Thorpe’s words had now become fewer than ever. His usual energy appeared to be gone altogether. He still went through all the daily business of the religious Societies to which he belonged, in direct opposition85 to the doctor’s advice; but he performed his duties mechanically, and without any apparent interest in the persons or events with which he was brought in contact. He had only referred to his son once in the last two days; and then it was not to talk of reclaiming86 him, not to ask where he had gone, but only to desire briefly87 and despairingly that his name might not be mentioned again.
So far as Zack’s interests or apprehensions88 were now concerned, there was, consequently no fear of any new collision occurring between his father and himself. When Mrs. Thorpe had told her husband (after receiving Valentine’s answer to her letter) that their runaway89 son was “in safe hands,” Mr. Thorpe never asked, as she had feared he would, “What hands?” And again, when she hinted that it might be perhaps advisable to assist the lad to some small extent, as long as he kept in the right way, and suffered himself to be guided by the “safe hands” already mentioned, still Mr. Thorpe made no objections and no inquiries, but bowed his head, and told her to do as she pleased: at the same time whispering a few words to himself; which were not uttered loud enough for her to hear. She could only, therefore, repeat the sad truth that, since his energies had given way, all his former plans and all his customary opinions, in reference to his son, seemed to have undergone some disastrous90 and sudden alteration91. It was only in consequence of this alteration, which appeared to render him as unfit to direct her how to act as to act himself; that she had ventured to undertake the responsibility of arranging the present interview with Zack, and of bringing him the small pecuniary92 assistance which Mr. Blyth had considered to be necessary in the present melancholy emergency.
The enumeration93 of all these particulars—interrupted, as it constantly was, by unavailing lamentations on one side and by useless self-reproaches on the other—occupied much more time than either mother or son had imagined. It was not till the clock in Mr. Blyth’s hall struck, that Mrs. Thorpe discovered how much longer her absence from home had lasted than she had intended it should on leaving Baregrove Square. She rose directly, in great trepidation—took a hurried leave of Valentine, who was loitering about his front garden—sent the kindest messages she could think of to the ladies above stairs—and departed at once for home. Zack escorted her to the entrance of the square; and, on taking leave, showed the sincerity94 of his contrition in a very unexpected and desperate manner, by actually offering to return home then and there with his mother, if she wished it! Mrs. Thorpe’s heart yearned95 to take him at his word, but she remembered the doctor’s orders and the critical condition of her husband’s health; and forced herself to confess to Zack that the favorable time for his return had not yet arrived. After this—with mutual96 promises to communicate again soon through Valentine—they parted very sadly, just at the entrance of Baregrove Square: Mrs. Thorpe hurrying nervously97 to her own door, Zack returning gloomily to Mr. Blyth’s house.
Meanwhile, how had Mat been occupying himself, since he had left his young friend alone in the lodging in Kirk Street?
He had really gone out, as Zack had supposed, for one of those long night-walks of his, which usually took him well into the country before the first grey of daylight had spread far over the sky. On ordinary occasions, he only indulged in these oddly-timed pedestrian excursions because the restless habits engendered98 by his vagabond life, made him incapable99 of conforming to civilized hours by spending the earliest part of the morning, like other people, inactively in bed. On this particular occasion, however, he had gone out with something like a special purpose; for he had left Kirk Street, not so much for the sake of taking a walk, as for the sake of thinking clearly and at his ease. Mat’s brain was never so fertile in expedients100 as when he was moving his limbs freely in the open air.
Hardly a chance word had dropped from Zack that night which had not either confirmed him in his resolution to possess himself of Valentine’s Hair Bracelet, or helped to suggest to him the manner in which his determination to obtain it might be carried out. The first great necessity imposed on him by his present design, was to devise the means of secretly opening the painter’s bureau; the second was to hit on some safe method—should no chance opportunity occur—of approaching it unobserved. Mat had remarked that Mr. Blyth wore the key of the bureau attached to his watch chain; and Mat had just heard from young Thorpe that Mr. Blyth was about to pay them a visit in Kirk Street. On the evening of that visit, therefore, the first of the two objects—the discovery of a means of secretly opening the bureau—might, in some way, be attained101. How?
This was the problem which Mat set off to solve to his own perfect satisfaction, in the silence and loneliness of a long night’s walk.
In what precise number of preliminary mental entanglements102 he involved himself; before arriving at the desired solution, it would not be very easy to say. As usual, his thoughts wandered every now and then from his subject in the most irregular manner; actually straying away, on one occasion as far as the New World itself; and unintelligibly103 occupying themselves with stories he had heard, and conversations he had held in various portions of that widely-extended sphere, with vagabond chance-comrades from all parts of civilized Europe. How his mind ever got back from these past times and foreign places to present difficulties and future considerations connected with the guest who was expected in Kirk Street, Mat himself would have been puzzled to tell. But it did eventually get back, nevertheless; and, what was still more to the purpose, it definitely and thoroughly worked out the intricate problem that had been set it to solve.
Not a whispered word of the plan he had now hit on dropped from Mat’s lips, as, turning it this way and that in his thoughts, he walked briskly back to town in the first fresh tranquillity104 of the winter morning. Discreet105 as he was, however, either some slight practical hints of his present project must have oozed106 out through his actions when he got back to London; or his notion of the sort of hospitable107 preparation which ought to be made for the reception of Mr. Blyth, was more barbarously and extravagantly108 eccentric than all the rest of his notions put together.
Instead of going home at once, when he arrived at Kirk Street, he stopped at certain shops in the neighborhood to make some purchases which evidently had reference to the guest of the evening; for the first things he bought were two or three lemons and a pound of loaf sugar. So far his proceedings109 were no doubt intelligible110 enough; but they gradually became more and more incomprehensible when he began to walk up and down two or three streets, looking about him attentively, stopping at every locksmith’s and ironmonger’s shop that he passed, waiting to observe all the people who might happen to be inside them, and then deliberately111 walking on again. In this way he approached, in course of time, a very filthy112 little row of houses, with some very ill-looking male and female inhabitants visible in detached positions, staring out of windows or lingering about public-house doors.
Occupying the lower story of one of these houses was a small grimy shop, which, judging by the visible stock-in-trade, dealt on a much larger scale in iron and steel ware113 that was old and rusty114, than in iron and steel ware that was new and bright. Before the counter no customer appeared; behind it there stood alone a squalid, bushy browed, hump-backed man, as dirty as the dirtiest bit of iron about him, sorting old nails. Mat, who had unintelligibly passed the doors of respectable ironmongers, now, as unintelligibly, entered this doubtful and dirty shop; and addressed himself to the unattractive stranger behind the counter. The conference in which the two immediately engaged was conducted in low tones, and evidently ended to the satisfaction of both; for the squalid shopman began to whistle a tune115 as he resumed his sorting of the nails, and Mat muttered to himself; “That’s all right,” as he came out on the pavement again.
His next proceeding—always supposing that it had reference to the reception of Mr. Blyth—was still more mysterious. He went into one of those grocer’s shops which are dignified116 by the title of “Italian Warehouses,” and bought a small lump of the very best refined wax! After making this extraordinary purchase, which he put into the pocket of his trousers, he next entered the public-house opposite his lodgings117; and, in defiance118 of what Zack had told him about Valentine’s temperate119 habits, bought and brought away with him, not only a fresh bottle of Brandy, but a bottle of old Jamaica Rum besides.
Young Thorpe had not returned from Mr. Blyth’s when Mat entered the lodgings with these purchases. He put the bottles, the sugar, and the lemons in the cupboard—cast a satisfied look at the three clean tumblers and spoons already standing on the shelf—relaxed so far from his usual composure of aspect as to smile—lit the fire, and heaped plenty of coal on, to keep it alight—then sat down on his bearskins—wriggled himself comfortably into the corner, and threw his handkerchief over his face; chuckling gruffly for the first time since the past night, as he put his hand in his pockets, and so accidentally touched the lump of wax that lay in one of them.
“Now I’m all ready for the Painter-Man,” growled120 Mat behind the handkerchief, as he quietly settled himself to go to sleep.
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1
guttering
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| n.用于建排水系统的材料；沟状切除术；开沟 | |
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boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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futility
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| n.无用 | |
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serenest
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| serene（沉静的，宁静的，安宁的）的最高级形式 | |
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6
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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lodger
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| n.寄宿人，房客 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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bacchanalian
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| adj.闹酒狂饮的；n.发酒疯的人 | |
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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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lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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hospitably
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| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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hoard
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| n./v.窖藏，贮存，囤积 | |
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hoarding
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| n.贮藏；积蓄；临时围墙；囤积v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的现在分词 ) | |
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hoarded
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| v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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barbarian
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| n.野蛮人；adj.野蛮(人)的；未开化的 | |
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harping
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| n.反复述说 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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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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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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30
chuckles
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的名词复数 ) | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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hilarity
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| n.欢乐；热闹 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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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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tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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peculiarities
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| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
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38
patchwork
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| n.混杂物；拼缝物 | |
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39
waddled
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| v.（像鸭子一样）摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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41
mimic
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| v.模仿，戏弄；n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
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42
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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43
mazes
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| 迷宫( maze的名词复数 )； 纷繁复杂的规则； 复杂难懂的细节； 迷宫图 | |
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44
bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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45
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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46
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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47
improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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48
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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49
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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50
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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51
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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52
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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53
socket
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| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
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54
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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55
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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56
contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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57
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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58
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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59
dilatory
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| adj.迟缓的，不慌不忙的 | |
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60
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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61
parlors
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| 客厅( parlor的名词复数 )； 起居室； （旅馆中的）休息室； （通常用来构成合成词）店 | |
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62
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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63
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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boisterously
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| adv.喧闹地，吵闹地 | |
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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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67
regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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contrition
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| n.悔罪，痛悔 | |
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reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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71
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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72
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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73
conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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74
soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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75
entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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78
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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conniving
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| v.密谋 ( connive的现在分词 )；搞阴谋；默许；纵容 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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subsiding
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的现在分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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82
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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83
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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84
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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85
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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86
reclaiming
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| v.开拓( reclaim的现在分词 )；要求收回；从废料中回收（有用的材料）；挽救 | |
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87
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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88
apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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89
runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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91
alteration
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| n.变更，改变；蚀变 | |
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92
pecuniary
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| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
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93
enumeration
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| n.计数，列举；细目；详表；点查 | |
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94
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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95
yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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96
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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97
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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98
engendered
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| v.产生（某形势或状况），造成，引起( engender的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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100
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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101
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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102
entanglements
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| n.瓜葛( entanglement的名词复数 )；牵连；纠缠；缠住 | |
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103
unintelligibly
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| 难以理解地 | |
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104
tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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105
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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106
oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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107
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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108
extravagantly
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| adv.挥霍无度地 | |
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109
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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110
intelligible
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| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
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111
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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112
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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113
ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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114
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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115
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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116
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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117
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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118
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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119
temperate
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| adj.温和的，温带的，自我克制的，不过分的 | |
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120
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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