"Of course I'll succeed!" he exclaimed. "There's no such thing as defeat for him who refuses to acknowledge it."
As he watched the magnificent ball his eyes grew dim at the thought of the social tragedy which it symbolized1, of his own poverty and of the deeper wretchedness of scores to whom he had been trying to minister. He was fighting to keep his courage up, but the longer he watched the barbaric, sensual display of wealth sweeping2 before him, the deeper his spirit sank.
The butler touched his arm and he turned with a sudden start, a look of anguish3 on his rugged4 face.
"Mr. Bivens will be pleased to see you in the little library, sir, if you will come at once!"
The man bowed with stately deference5.
He followed the servant with quick firm step, a hundred happy ideas floating through his mind.
"Of course, it's all right. My fears were absurd!" he mused6. "My instinct was right. He will be pleased to see me. He's in a good humour with all the world to-night."
When the doctor was ushered7 into the library, Bivens, who was awaiting him alone, sprang to his feet with a look of blank amazement8, and then a smile began to play about his hard mouth. He thrust his delicate hands into his pockets and deliberately9 looked the doctor's big figure over from head to foot as he approached with embarrassment10.
"My servant announced that a gentleman wished to speak to me a moment. Will you be good enough to tell me what you are doing in this house to-night?"
The doctor paused and hesitated, his face scarlet11 from the deliberate insult.
"I must really ask your pardon, Mr. Bivens, for my apparent intrusion. It is only apparent. I came with my daughter."
"Your daughter?"
"She sang to-night on your programme."
"Oh, I see, with the other hired singers; well, what do you want?"
"Only a few minutes of your time on a matter of grave importance."
"I don't care to discuss business here to-night, Woodman," Bivens broke in abruptly12. "Come to my office."
"I have been there three or four times," the doctor went on hurriedly, "and wrote to you twice. I felt sure that my letters had not reached you. I hoped for the chance of a moment to-night to lay my case before you."
Bivens smiled and sat down.
"All right, I'll give you five minutes."
"I felt sure you had not seen my letters."
"I'll ease your mind on that question. I did see them both. You got my answer?"
"That's just it. I didn't. And I couldn't understand it."
"Oh, I see!" Bivens's mouth quivered with the slightest sneer13. "Perhaps it was lost in transit14!"
The sneer was lost on the doctor. He was too intent on his purpose.
"I know. It was a mistake. I see it now, and I'm perfectly15 willing to pay for that mistake by accepting even half of your last proposition."
Bivens laughed cynically16.
"This might be serious, Woodman, if it wasn't funny. But you had as well know, once and for all, that I owe you nothing. Your suit has been lost. Your appeal has been forfeited17. My answer is brief but to the point—not one cent—my generosity18 is for my friends and followers19, not my enemies."
"But we are not enemies, personally," the doctor explained, good-naturedly. "I have put all bitterness out of my heart and come to-night to ask that bygones be bygones. You know the history of our relations and of my business. I need not repeat it. And you know that in God's great book of accounts you are my debtor20."
Bivens's eyes danced with anger, and his words had the ring of cold steel.
"I owe you nothing."
In every accent of the financier's voice the man before him felt the deadly merciless hatred21 whose fires had been smouldering for years.
For a moment he was helpless under the spell of his fierce gaze. He began to feel dimly something of the little man's powerful personality, the power that had crushed his enemies.
The doctor's voice was full of tenderness when he replied at last:
"My boy," he began quietly—"for you are still a boy when you stand beside my gray hairs—men may fight one another for a great principle without being personal enemies. We are men still, with common hopes, fears, ills, griefs and joys. When I was a soldier I fought the Southern army, shot and shot to kill. I was fighting for a principle. When the firing ceased I helped the wounded men on the field as I came to them. Many a wounded man in blue I've seen drag himself over the rough ground to pass his canteen to the lips of a boy in gray who was lying on his back, crying for water. If I am your enemy, it is over a question of principle. The fight has ended, and I have fallen across your path to-night, dying of thirst while rivers of water flow about me."
Bivens turned away and the doctor pressed closer.
"Suppose we have fought each other in the heat of the day in the ranks of two hostile armies? The battle has ceased. For me the night has fallen, I——"
His voice quivered and broke for an instant.
"You have won. You can afford to be generous. That you can deny me in this the hour of my desolation is unthinkable. I'm not pleading for myself. I can live on a rat's allowance. I'm begging for my little girl. I need two thousand dollars immediately to complete her musical studies. You know what her love means to me. I have put myself in your power. Suppose I've wronged you? Now is your chance to do a divine thing. Deep down in your heart of hearts you know that the act would be one of justice between man and man."
Bivens looked up sharply.
"As a charity, Woodman, I might give you the paltry22 fifty thousand dollars you ask."—
"I'll take it as a charity!" he cried eagerly, "take it with joy and gratitude23, and thank God for his salvation24 sent in the hour of my need."
Bivens smiled coldly.
"But in reality you demand justice of me?"
"I have put myself in your power. I have refused and still refuse to believe that you can treat me with such bitter cruelty as to refuse to recognize my claim. I have waked at last to find myself helpless. The shock of it has crushed me. I've always felt rich in the love of my country, in the consciousness that I did my part to save the union. Its growing wealth I have rejoiced in as my own. There has never been a moment in my life up to this hour that I have envied any man the possession of his millions. In the fight I have made on you, I have been trying to strike for the freedom of the individual man against what seemed to me to be the crushing slavery of soulless machinery25."
The little financier lifted his shapely hand with a commanding gesture and the speaker paused.
"Come to the point, Woodman, what is in your mind when you say that I am your debtor?"
"Simply that I have always known that your formula for that drink was a prescription26 which I compounded years ago and which you often filled for me when I was busy. As a physician I could not patent such a thing. You had as much right to patent it as any one else."
"In other words," Bivens interrupted coldly, "you inform me that you have always known that I stole from your prescription counter the formula which gave me my first fortune, and for that reason every dollar I possess to-day is branded with the finger print of a thief; and you, the upright physician, held by the old code of honour which makes your profession a fraternity of ancient chivalry27, come now with your hat in hand and ask me for a share of this tainted28 money."
"Bivens," the doctor protested with dignity, "you know that I have made no such wild accusation29 against you. In our contest I have never stooped to personalities30. I have always felt that the inherent justice of my cause was based on principle. But I'm an old man to-night. The sands of life are running low. I'm down and out. The one being I love supremely31 is in peril32. I can't fight."
Bivens turned with sudden fury and faced his visitor, every mask of restraint thrown to the winds. His little bead-eyes flashed with the venom33 of a snake coiled to strike. He stood close to the doctor and looked up at his tall massive figure, stretching his own diminutive34 form in a desperate effort to stand on a level with his enemy.
The doctor's face grew suddenly pale and his form rigid35 as the two men stood holding each other's gaze for a moment without words.
The financier began to speak with slow venomous energy:
"I've let you ramble36 on in your maudlin37 talk, Woodman, because it amused me. For years I've waited for your coming. Your unexpected advent38 is the sweetest triumph of this festival night. The offer I made you was at the suggestion of my wife. I did it solely39 to please her. I think you will take my word for it to-night." He paused and a sinister40 smile played about his mouth. "The last time I saw you I promised myself that I'd make you come to me the next time, and when you did, that you'd come on your hands and knees."
The doctor's big fists suddenly closed and Bivens took a step back toward his desk when his slender hand gripped and fumbled41 a heavy cut glass ink stand. The older observed his trembling hand with a smile of contempt.
"And I swore," Bivens went on in a voice quivering with unrestrained passion, "that when you looked up into my face grovelling42 and whining43 for mercy as you have to-night, I'd call my servants and order them to kick you down my door step."
He loosed his hold on the ink stand and leaned across the massive flat-top desk to touch an electric button.
The doctor's fist suddenly gripped the outstretched hand and his eyes glared into the face of the financier with the dangerous look of a madman.
"You had better not ring that bell, yet," he said, with forced quiet in his tones.
Bivens hesitated and his muscles relaxed in the grip on his wrist.
"You wish to prolong the agony for another moral discussion?" the financier asked with a sneer. "All right, if you enjoy it."
"Just long enough to say one thing to you, Bivens. There's a limit beyond which you and your kind had better not press the men you have wronged. You have made a brave show of your power to-night. Well, you are mistaken if you believe you can longer awe44 the imagination of the world with its tinsel. You have begun to stir deeper thoughts. Look to your skin. I've always said this is God's world, and it must come out right in the end. I've begun to think to-night there's something wrong. God can't look down and see what's going on here—the God I've tried to serve and worship, whose praise I have sung beneath the stars on fields of battle with the blood streaming from wounds I got fighting for what I believed to be right. If the devil rules the universe, and dog-eat-dog is the law, there'll be a big hand feeling for your throat, feeling blindly in the dark, perhaps, but it will get there! When I look into your brazen46 face to-night, and hear the strains of that music, there's something inside of me that wants to kill."
"But you won't, Woodman!" Bivens interrupted with a sneer.
"When it comes to the test your liver is white. I know your breed of men, but I like you better in that mood. It gives me pleasure to torture you, and I'm not going to kick you out."
"I shouldn't advise you to try it," was the grim response.
"No. Your tirade47 gives me an idea. I want you to stay until the festivities end, and enjoy yourself. Observe that I'm pouring out my wealth here to-night in a river of generosity, and that you are starving for a drop which I refuse to give. Take a look over my house. It cost two millions to build it, and requires half a million a year to keep it up. I have a country estate of a hundred thousand acres in the mountains of North Carolina, with a French chateau48 that cost a million. I only weigh a hundred and fifteen pounds, but I require these palaces to properly house me for a year. Think this over while you stroll among my laughing guests. My art gallery will interest you. I've a single painting there which cost three hundred thousand dollars—the entire collection two millions. The butterflies those dancers are crushing beneath their feet in my ball room, I imported from Central America at a cost of five thousand dollars. The favours in jewelry49 I shall give to my rich guests who have no use for them will be worth twenty-five thousand dollars. You'll see my wife among the dancers. Her dresses cost a hundred thousand a year. For the string of pearls around her neck I paid a half million. The slippers50 on her feet cost two thousand—all you need for your daughter's education. Take a good look at it, Woodman, and as the day dawns and my guests depart, some of them drunk on wine that cost twenty-five dollars a bottle—remember that I spent three hundred and fifty thousand on this banquet which lasted eight hours and that I will see you and your daughter dead and in the bottomless pit before I will give you one penny. Enjoy yourself, it's a fine evening."
The crushed man stared at Bivens in a stupor51 of pain. The brazen audacity52 of his assault was more than he could foresee. When the full import of its cruelty found his soul, he spoke53 in faltering54 tones:
"Only he who is willing to die, Bivens, is the master of life. Well, I go now to meet Death and celebrate defeat."
"And I the sweetest victory of my life—good evening!"
Before the doctor could answer, the financier turned with a laugh and left the room.
For a long time the dazed man stood motionless. He passed his big hand over his forehead in a vague instinctive55 physical effort to lift the fog of horror and despair that was slowly strangling him.
"My God!" he gasped56 at last.
The orchestra began a new waltz while the hum of voices, and the laughter of half-drunken revellers floated up the grand stairs and struck upon his ears with a strange new accent. He seemed to have lived a thousand years, and come to life a new man with strange new impulses. The light of faith that once illumined his soul had suddenly gone out and a new sense of brutal57 power quivered in every nerve and muscle.
He felt at last his kinship to the torn bleeding bundle of despair he saw dying on the pavement in union Square.
The music, soft, sweet and sensuous58, seemed to fill every nook and corner of the great palace with its low penetrating59 notes. He felt that he was suffocating60. He tore his collar apart to give himself room to breathe. He thrust his hand into the hip45 pocket of his dress suit where he usually carried a handkerchief and felt something hard and cold.
It was a revolver he had been accustomed to carry of late in his rounds through the dangerous quarters of the city. Without thinking when he dressed, he had transferred it to his evening suit. His hand closed over the ivory handle with a sudden fierce joy. And in a moment the beast that sleeps beneath the skin of religion and culture was in the saddle.
"Yes, I'll kill him in his magnificent ball room—to the strains of his own music!" he said half aloud. "I'll give a fit climax61 to his dance of Death and the Worm."
He drew the revolver from his pocket, broke it, examined the shells, snapped them in place and thrust the deadly thing in the inner pocket of his coat. He could draw it from there without attracting the attention of his victim.
He quickly descended62 the stairs and saw Bivens talking to his wife. He didn't wish to kill him in her presence and as he passed a look of hatred flashed from the little black eyes of the millionaire.
The doctor answered with a smile that roused the master of the house to a pitch of incontrollable fury. He left his wife's side, stepped quickly in front of Woodman, hesitated as he was about to utter an oath, changed his mind and resumed his r?le of host:
"If I can show you any of the treasures of the house, I'll be glad to act as your guide, Woodman!" he said with an effort at laughter.
"Thank you. I've just seen some very interesting pictures."
"Surely you have not finished with my masterpieces so soon?" he said, with mocking protest.
The doctor had made up his mind to kill him at the moment the dance was at the highest pitch of gaiety and he wanted to get him as near the great arch as possible.
His answer was given so politely and evenly the financier was puzzled.
"No, Bivens," he said in a matter-of-fact voice, "the pictures I saw were purely63 mental. I haven't been to your art gallery yet."
"See it by all means!" he urged with exaggerated politeness. "It's a rare privilege, you know. It's not often the rabble64 is inside these walls. It's the chance of your life."
"Thank you, I'll find enough to amuse me before I go."
Again the doctor smiled.
Bivens turned on his heels with a muttered oath and disappeared in the crowd. He was plainly disconcerted by his enemy's manner. To see a man of his temperament65 rise suddenly from the depths of despair into smiling serenity66 was something uncanny. He left him deliberating whether to call his servants and throw him into the street.
As the doctor waited for the music to begin, he watched the women pass, resplendent in their jewels and magnificent in their nakedness. To-night he saw it without the excuses of conventional social usage.
"And this," he exclaimed bitterly, "is the highest development of American life; this splendid, sordid67, criminal degrading pageant68 with its sensual appeal; and yet if the house should fall and crush them all, the world would lose nothing of value except the jewelry that might be mixed with its débris!"
He felt for the moment a messenger of divine vengeance69. His pistol shot would at least give them something to think about.
The music began, and the dancers once more whirled into the centre of the room and the crowd filled the space under the grand arch which led into the hall. Bivens was the centre of an admiring group of sycophants70 and worshipful snobs71. The doctor's heart gave a mad throb72 of joy. His hour had come.
With quick strides he covered the space which separated them and without a moment's hesitation73 thrust his hand into his breast for his revolver. Not a muscle or nerve quivered. His finger touched the trigger softly and he gave Bivens a look which he meant he should take with him into eternity74, when just beyond him he saw Harriet. She stood motionless with a look of mute agony on her fair young face, watching Stuart talk to Bivens's wife.
His finger slipped from the trigger and his hand loosed its deadly grip.
"Have I forgotten my baby!" he cried in sudden anguish. And then another vision flashed through his excited brain. A court room, a prisoner, his own bowed figure the centre of a thousand eyes while the jury brought in their verdict. A moment of awful silence and the foreman said:
"Guilty of murder in the first degree."
And the long piercing scream from the broken heart of his little girl.
"No, no, not that!" he groaned75 in sudden terror, his face white with pain. "I can't kill her, too. No, I must save her, that's why I want to kill him because he has imperilled her life, and I am about to crush her at a single blow. God save and help me!—God! Where is God? He helps those who help themselves in this madman's world. Well, then I'll look out for my own, too!"
His breath came in laboured gasps76 as one mad thought succeeded another.
"Yes!" he said hoarsely77, "I must save her. I must be cunning. I must succeed, not fail. I must get what I came here for. I must save my baby. My own fate is of no importance. She is everything."
'I must save her. I must be cunning'
"'I must save her. I must be cunning'"
He watched the dancers, greedily catching78 the flash of their diamonds, gleaming tiaras, rings, necklaces, bracelets79, each worth a king's ransom80. Suddenly the idea flashed through his mind:
Bivens had taken from him, by fraud, his formula, destroyed his business and robbed him of all he possessed81. The law gave him power to hold it. He, too, would appeal to the same power and take what belonged to him. No matter how, he would take it, and he would take it to-night.
Bivens had boasted that his favours in jewelry given in sheer wantonness of pride to rich guests would be worth twenty-five thousand dollars. His plan was instantly formed.
He turned quickly and began to search the house until he found the half-drunken servant arranging these packages under the direction of a secretary. These favours had been made for the occasion by a famous jeweller; a diamond pin of peculiar82 design, a gold death's head with diamond teeth and eyes surmounted83 by a butterfly and a caterpillar84. The stones in each piece were worth a hundred dollars. They lay on a table in little open jewel boxes, fifty in a box, and each box contained five thousand dollars' worth of gold and precious stones.
The doctor inspected the boxes with exclamations85 of wonder and admiration86.
The secretary who had lingered long over his champagne87 was busy trying to write the names of the guests on separate cards. The doctor bent88 low over the table for an instant, and when he left one of the jewel cases rested securely in his pocket.
He was amazed at his own skill and a thrill of fierce triumph filled his being as he realized that he had succeeded and that his little girl would go to Europe and complete her work. He spoke pleasantly to the secretary, and congratulating him on his good fortune in securing such a master, turned and strolled leisurely89 back to the ball room.
Not for a moment did he doubt the safety of his act. He was a chemist and knew the secrets of the laboratory. He would melt the gold into a single bar and sell the diamonds as he needed them. His only regret was that he could not have taken the full amount he had demanded of the little scoundrel.
He found Harriet and they started at once for home.
The dancers who were not staying for the second dinner, about to be announced at four o'clock, had begun to leave. Friends were helping90 the ladies to their cars and carriages, and other friends were labouring hopefully with those who were not yet convinced of the incapacity to take care of themselves.
Everywhere the floors were stained with the crushed forms of butterflies. The wonderful flashing creatures had darted91 through the rooms at first with swift whirling circling wings. But in the hot fetid air one by one they had fallen to the floor crushed into shapeless masses. Hundreds of them had clung to the leaves of the lilacs, roses and ferns until they dropped exhausted92. Some of them still hung in long graceful93 swaying streamers of dazzling colour from the ceilings.
The doctor pointed94 to them.
"Look, dear, their poor little hearts are counting the seconds that yet separate them from the mangled95 bodies of their mates on the floor. So the hearts of millions of people have been crushed out for the sport of this evening. It's a funny world, isn't it?"
Harriet looked up quickly into his face with puzzled inquiry96.
"Why, Papa, I never heard you talk so strangely. What's the matter?"
The father laughed in the best of spirits.
"Only the fancy of a moment, child. I never felt better. Did you have a good time?"
The girl's face grew serious as she drew on her wrap and glanced back toward the great doorway97 of the ball room.
"Yes, when I could forget the pain in my heart."
She paused and seized his arm with sudden energy.
"You succeeded? It's all right? I'm going abroad at once to study?"
The doctor laughed aloud in a burst of fierce joy.
"Certainly, my dear! Didn't I tell you it would be so?"
The tears sprang into the gentle eyes as she answered gratefully.
"You can't know how happy you've made me."
Bivens, who had heard the doctor's laughter, passed and said with exaggerated courtesy:
"I trust you have enjoyed the evening, Woodman?"
The doctor laughed again in his face.
"More than I can possibly tell you!"
Bivens followed to the door and watched him slowly walk down the steps.
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1
symbolized
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| v.象征，作为…的象征( symbolize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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transit
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| n.经过，运输；vt.穿越，旋转；vi.越过 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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cynically
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| adv.爱嘲笑地，冷笑地 | |
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forfeited
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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debtor
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| n.借方，债务人 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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paltry
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| adj.无价值的，微不足道的 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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prescription
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| n.处方，开药；指示，规定 | |
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chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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personalities
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| n. 诽谤，（对某人容貌、性格等所进行的）人身攻击； 人身攻击；人格, 个性, 名人( personality的名词复数 ) | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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ramble
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| v.漫步，漫谈，漫游；n.漫步，闲谈，蔓延 | |
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maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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42
grovelling
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| adj.卑下的，奴颜婢膝的v.卑躬屈节，奴颜婢膝( grovel的现在分词 )；趴 | |
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whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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tirade
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| n.冗长的攻击性演说 | |
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chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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jewelry
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| n.（jewllery）（总称）珠宝 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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51
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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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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faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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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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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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sensuous
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| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
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penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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sycophants
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| n.谄媚者，拍马屁者( sycophant的名词复数 ) | |
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snobs
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| （谄上傲下的）势利小人( snob的名词复数 )； 自高自大者，自命不凡者 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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83
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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caterpillar
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| n.毛虫，蝴蝶的幼虫 | |
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85
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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87
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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88
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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90
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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95
mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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96
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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