Cartier de Chalmot had always been scrupulous51 in the performance of his duty. Being upright, diffident, and an excellent penman, he had at last hit upon a system which fitted in with his abilities, and, in command of his division of cards, he applied7 his method with the utmost vigour8.
On this particular day, having risen according to his custom at five o’clock in the morning, he had passed from his tub to his work-table; and, whilst the sun was mounting with solemn slowness above the elms of the Archbishop’s palace, the general was organising man?uvres by manipulating the boxes of cards that symbolised reality, and that were actually identical with reality to an intelligence which, like his, was excessively reverent9 towards everything symbolic10.
For more than three hours he had been poring over his cards with a mind and face as wan11 and melancholy12 as the cards themselves, when his servant announced the Abbé de Lalonde. Then he took off his glasses, wiped his work-reddened eyes, rose, and half smiling, turned towards the door a countenance13 which had once been handsome and which in old age remained quite simple in its lineaments. He stretched out to the visitor who entered a large hand the palm of which had scarcely any lines, and said good-day to the priest in a gruff, yet hesitating voice, which revealed at the same time the diffidence of the man and the infallibility of the commander.
52 “My dear abbé, how are you? I am very glad to see you.”
And he pushed forward to him one of the two horsehair chairs which, with the desk and the bed, comprised all the furniture of this clean, bright, empty room.
The abbé sat down. He was a wonderfully active little old man. In his face of weather-worn, crumbling15 brick, there were set, like two jewels, the blue eyes of a child.
They looked at one another for a moment, understandingly, without saying a word. They were two old friends, two comrades-in-arms. Formerly16 a chaplain in the Army, Abbé de Lalonde was now chaplain to the Dames17 du Salut. As military chaplain, he had been attached to the regiment18 of guards of which Cartier de Chalmot had been colonel in 1870, and which, forming part of the division?…, had been shut up in Metz with Bazaine’s army.
The memory of these homeric, yet lamentable19, weeks came back to the minds of these two friends every time they saw one another, and every time they made the same remarks.
This time the chaplain began:
“Do you remember, general, when we were in Metz, running short of medicine, of fodder20, running short of salt??…”
53 Abbé de Lalonde was the least sensual of men. He had hardly felt the want of salt for himself, but he had suffered much at not being able to give the men salt as he gave them tobacco, in little packets carefully wrapped up. And he remembered this cruel privation.
“Ah! general, the salt ran short!”
General Cartier de Chalmot replied:
“All the same,” answered the chaplain, “war is a terrible thing.”
Thus spoke22 this innocent friend of soldiers in the sincerity23 of his heart. But the general did not acquiesce24 in this condemnation25 of war.
“Pardon me, my dear abbé! War is, of course, a cruel necessity, but one which provides for officers and men an opportunity of showing the highest qualities. Without war, we should still be ignorant of how far the courage and endurance of men can go.”
And, very seriously, he added:
“The Bible proves the lawfulness26 of war, and you know better than I how in it God is called Sabaoth—that is, the God of armies.”
The abbé smiled with an expression of frank roguishness, displaying the three very white teeth which were all that remained to him.
54 “Pooh! I don’t know Hebrew, not I.?… And God has so many more beautiful names that I can dispense27 with calling him by that one.?… Alas28! general, what a splendid army perished under the command of that unhappy marshal!?…”
At these words, General Cartier de Chalmot began to say what he had already said a hundred times:
“Bazaine!?… Listen to me. Neglect of the regulations touching29 fortified30 towns, culpable31 hesitation32 in giving orders, mental reservations before the enemy. And before the enemy one ought to have no mental reservations?… Capitulation in open country.?… He deserved his fate. And then a scapegoat33 was needed.”
“For my part,” answered the chaplain, “I should beware of ever saying a single word which might injure the memory of this unfortunate marshal. I cannot judge his actions. And it is certainly not my business to noise abroad even his indubitable shortcomings. For he granted me a favour for which I shall feel grateful as long as I live.”
“A favour?” demanded the general. “He? To you?”
“Oh! a favour so noble, so beautiful! He granted me a pardon for a poor soldier, a dragoon condemned34 to death for insubordination. In memory of this favour, every year I say a mass for the repose35 of the soul of ex-Marshal Bazaine.”
55 But General Cartier de Chalmot would not let himself be turned from the point.
“Capitulation in open country!?… Just imagine it.?… He deserved his fate.”
And, in order to hearten himself up, the general spoke of Canrobert, and of the splendid stand of the?… brigade at Saint-Privat.
“Ah! Saint-Privat, general! On the eve of the battle, a great rascal39 of a carabineer came to look for me. I see him still, all blackened, in a sheepskin. He cries to me: ‘To-morrow’s going to be warm work. I may leave my bones to rot there. Confess me, monsieur le curé, and quickly! I must go and groom40 my little mare41.’ I say to him: ‘I don’t want to delay you, friend. Still, you must tell me your sins. What are your sins?’ In astonishment42 he looks at me and replies: ‘Why, all!’ ‘What, all?’ ‘Yes, all. I have committed all the sins.’ I shake my head. ‘All, my friend—that is a good many!?… Tell me, hast thou beaten thy mother?’ At this question, my gentleman grows excited, waves his great arms, swears like a Pagan, and exclaims: ‘Monsieur le curé, you are mocking me!’ I reply to him: ‘Calm yourself, friend. You see now that you have not committed all the sins.’?…”
Thus the chaplain cheerily narrated43 pious44 regimental56 anecdotes. And then he deduced the moral from them. Good Christians46 made good soldiers. It was a mistake to banish47 religion from the Army.
“I have always said so, my dear abbé. In destroying mystical beliefs you ruin the military spirit. By what right do you exact of a man the sacrifice of his life if you take away from him the hope of another existence?”
“You will see that there will be a return to religion. They are already going back to it on all sides. Men are not as bad as they appear and God is infinitely51 good.”
Then at last he revealed the object of his visit.
“I come, general, to ask a great favour of you.”
General Cartier de Chalmot became attentive52; his face, already sad, grew sadder still. He loved and respected this old chaplain, and would have wished to give him pleasure. But the very idea of granting a favour was alarming to his strict uprightness.
“Yes, general, I come to ask you to work for the good of the Church. You know Abbé Lantaigne, head of the high seminary in our town. He is a57 priest renowned53 for his piety54 and learning, a great theologian.”
“I have met Abbé Lantaigne several times. He made a favourable55 impression on me. But?…”
“Oh! general, if you had heard his lectures as I have done, you would be amazed at his learning. Yet I was able to appreciate but a trifling56 part of it. Thirty years of my life I have spent in reminding poor soldiers stretched on a hospital bed of the goodness of God. I have slipped in a good word along with a screw of tobacco. For another twenty-five years I have been confessing holy maidens57, full of sanctity, of course, but less charming in character than were my soldiers. I have never had the time to read the Fathers; I have neither enough brain nor enough theology to appreciate M. l’abbé Lantaigne at his true worth, for he is a walking encyclopedia58. But at least I can assure you, general, that he speaks as he acts, and he acts as he speaks.”
“All ecclesiastics60, unfortunately, are not of this kind.”
“Nor are all soldiers,” said the general, smiling a very wan smile.
Abbé de Lalonde, who was, however, capable of a58 little guile63, wound up his eulogy64 of Abbé Lantaigne with this touch:
“He is an excellent priest, and if he had been a soldier he would have made an excellent soldier.”
But the general demanded brusquely:
“Well! what can I do for him?”
“Help him to slip on the violet stockings, which he has richly deserved, general. He is an admitted candidate for the vacant bishopric of Tourcoing. I beg you to support him with the Minister of Justice and Religion, whom, I am told, you know personally.”
The general shook his head. In fact, he had never asked anything of the Government. Cartier de Chalmot, as a royalist and a Christian45, regarded the Republic with a disapproval65 that was complete, silent and whole-hearted. Reading no newspapers and talking with no one, he undervalued on principle a civil power of whose doings he knew nothing. He obeyed and held his tongue. He was admired in the chateaux of the neighbourhood for his melancholy resignation, inspired by the sentiment of duty, strengthened by a profound scorn for everything which was not military, intensified66 by a growing difficulty in thought and speech rendered obvious and affecting by the progress of an affection of the liver.
It was well known that General Cartier de Chalmot59 remained a faithful royalist in the depths of his heart. It was not so well known that one day in the year 1893 his heart had received one of those shocks which can only be compared with what Christians describe as the workings of grace, and which bring with the force of a thunderbolt deep and unlooked-for peace to a man’s innermost being. This event took place at five o’clock in the evening of the 4th of June in the drawing-rooms of the prefecture. There, among the flowers that Madame Worms-Clavelin had herself arranged, President Carnot, on his way through the town, had received the officers of the garrison67. General Cartier de Chalmot, being present with his staff, saw the President for the first time, and instantly, for no apparent reason, on no explicable grounds, was pierced through and through by a terrible admiration68. In a second, before the gentle gravity and honest inflexibility69 of the head of the State, all his prejudices fell away. He forgot that this sovereign was a civilian70. He revered71 and loved him. He suddenly felt himself bound with ties of sympathy and respect to this man, sad and sallow like himself, but august and serene72 like a ruler. He uttered with a soldierly stutter the official compliment which he had learnt by heart. The President answered him: “I thank you in the name of the Republic and of our country which you loyally serve.” At this, all the devotion to an absent prince which60 General Cartier de Chalmot had stored up for twenty-five years welled forth2 from his heart towards the President, whose quiet face remained surprisingly immobile, and who spoke in a melancholy voice with no movement of cheek or lips, on which his black beard set a seal. On this waxen face, in these slow, honest eyes, on this feeble breast, across which blazed the broad red ribbon of his order, in the whole figure of this suffering automaton73, the general perceived both the dignity of the leader, and the affliction of the ill-fated man who has never laughed. With his admiration there was mingled74 a strain of tenderness.
A year later he heard of the tragic75 end of this President for whose safety he would willingly have died, and whom he henceforth pictured in his thoughts as dark and stiff, like the flag rolled round its staff in the barracks and covered with its case.
From that time he had ignored the civil rulers of France. He cared to know nothing save of his military superiors, whom he obeyed with melancholy punctiliousness76. Pained at the idea of answering the venerable Abbé de Lalonde by a refusal, he bethought himself for a moment, and then gave his reasons.
“A matter of principle. I never ask anything of the government. You agree with me, don’t you??… For from the moment that one lays down a rule for oneself?…”
The chaplain looked at him with an expression of61 sadness that seemed as though thrown over his happy old face.
“Oh! how could I agree with you, general—I who beg of everybody? I am a hardened beggar. For God and the poor, I have pleaded with all the powers of the day, with King Louis Philippe’s ministers, with those of the provisional government, with Napoleon III.’s ministers, with those of the Ordre Moral and those of the present Republic. They have all helped me to do some good. And since you know the Minister of Religion …”
“Poulot! Poulot!”
And a stout78 lady in a morning wrapper, her white hair crowned with hair-curlers, entered the room with a rush. It was Madame Cartier de Chalmot, who was calling the general to déjeuner.
She had already shaken her husband with imperious tenderness, and exclaimed once more: “Poulot!” before she became aware of the presence of the old priest crushed up against the door.
She apologised for her untidy dress. She had had so much to do this morning! Three daughters, two sons, an orphan79 nephew and her husband—seven children to look after!
“Ah! madame,” said the abbé, “it is God himself who has sent you! You will be my providence80.”
62 “Your providence, monsieur l’abbé!”
In her grey dressing-gown her figure revealed the ample dignity of classic motherhood. On her beaming moustachioed face shone a matronly pride; her large gestures expressed at once the briskness81 of a housewife habituated to work and the ease of a woman accustomed to official deference82. The general disappeared behind her. She was his household goddess and his guardian83 angel, this Pauline who carried on her brave, energetic shoulders all the burden of this poverty-stricken, ostentatious house, who played the part of seamstress to the family, as well as cook, dressmaker, chambermaid, governess, apothecary84, and even milliner with a frankly85 gaudy86 taste, and yet showed at big dinners and receptions an imperturbable87 good breeding, a commanding profile, and shoulders that were still beautiful. It was commonly said in the division that if the general became Minister of War, his wife would do the honours of the h?tel in the Boulevard Saint-Germain[F] in capital fashion.
The energy of the general’s wife spread freely over into the outer world and flourished vigorously in pious and charitable works. Madame Cartier de Chalmot was lady patroness of three crêches and a dozen charities recommended by the Cardinal-Archbishop. Monseigneur Charlot showed a special63 predilection89 for this lady, and said to her sometimes, with his man-of-the-world smile: “You are a general in the army of Christian charity.” And, being a professor of orthodoxy, Monseigneur Charlot never failed to add: “And there is no charity outside the Christian charity; for the Church alone is in a position to solve the social problems whose difficulties perplex the minds of all and cause special anxiety to our paternal90 heart.”
This was just what Madame Cartier de Chalmot thought. She was lavishly91, glaringly pious, and not free from the rather loud magnificence that was aptly accented by the sound of her voice and the flowers in her hats. Her faith, voluminous and decorative92 like the bosom93 which enshrined it, made a splendid show in drawing-rooms. By the breadth of her religious sentiments she had done much harm to her husband. But neither of them paid any heed94 to this. The general also believed in the Christian creed95, although this would not have prevented him from having the Cardinal-Archbishop arrested on a written order from the Minister of War. Yet he was regarded with suspicion by the democracy. And the préfet, M. Worms-Clavelin himself, though little of a fanatic96, regarded General Cartier de Chalmot as a dangerous man. This was his wife’s fault. She was ambitious, but the soul of honour and incapable97 of betraying her God.
64 “How can I be your providence, monsieur l’abbé?”
And when she heard that the point at issue was the raising to the bishopric of Tourcoing of Abbé Lantaigne, a man of such noble, steadfast98 piety, she caught fire and showed her courage.
The old chaplain began to make use of this happy valiancy.
“Then, madame, induce the general to write to the Minister of Religion, who turns out to be his friend.”
She shook the crown of curlers on her head vigorously.
“No, monsieur l’abbé. My husband will not write. It is useless to persist. He thinks that a soldier ought never to ask for anything. He is right. My father was of this opinion. You knew him, monsieur l’abbé, and you know that he was a fine man and a good soldier.”
“Colonel de Balny! Yes, of course, I knew him. He was a hero and a Christian.”
General Cartier de Chalmot interposed:
“My father-in-law, Colonel de Balny, was chiefly commendable101 for having mastered in their entirety the regulations of 1829 on cavalry102 man?uvres. These65 regulations were so complicated that few officers mastered them in their completeness. They were afterwards withdrawn103, and Colonel de Balny conceived such a disgust at this that it hastened his end. New regulations were imposed, possessing the unquestionable advantage of simplification. Yet I question whether the old state of things was not preferable. You must exact much from a cavalryman105 in order to get a little out of him. It is the same with the foot-soldier.”
Madame Cartier de Chalmot had heard these same words very often. She always made the same reply to them. Once more this time she said:
“Poulot! how can you say that papa died of chagrin106, when he fell down in an apoplectic107 fit at a review?”
The old chaplain, by a crafty108 wile109, brought the conversation back to the subject which interested him.
“Ah! madame, your excellent father, Colonel de Balny, would have certainly appreciated the character of M. Lantaigne, and he would have offered up prayers that this priest might be raised to a bishopric.”
“I also, monsieur l’abbé, will offer up prayers for that,” answered the general’s wife. “My husband cannot, ought not to make any application. But if66 you think that my intervention110 will be useful, I will drop a word to Monseigneur. He doesn’t terrify me at all, our Archbishop.”
“Doubtless a word from your mouth?…” murmured the old man. “… The ear of Monseigneur Chariot will be open to it.”
The general’s wife announced that she would be seeing the Archbishop at the inauguration111 of the Pain de Saint Antoine, of which she was president, and that there?…
She interrupted herself:
“The cutlets!?… Excuse me, monsieur l’abbé?…”
She rushed out on to the landing and shouted orders to the cook from the staircase. Then she reappeared in the room.
“And there I shall draw him aside, and beg him to speak to the nuncio in favour of M. Lantaigne. Is that the right way to go to work?”
The old chaplain made as if to take her hands, yet without actually doing so.
“That’s just the way, madame. I am sure that the good Saint Anthony of Padua will be with you and will help you to persuade Monseigneur Charlot. He is a great saint. I mean Saint Anthony.?… Ladies ought not to believe that he devotes himself exclusively to finding the jewels which they have lost. In heaven he has something better to do. To beg him for bread for67 the poor, that is assuredly far worthier112. You have realised that, dear madame. The Pain de Saint Antoine is a fine work. I must inform myself more fully14 about it. But I shall take good care not to breathe a word of it to my good sisters.”
He was referring to the Dames du Salut, to whom he was chaplain.
“They have already too many undertakings113. They are excellent sisters, but too much absorbed in trifling duties, and far too petty, the poor ladies.”
He sighed, recalling the time when he was a regimental chaplain, the tragic days of the war, when he accompanied the wounded stretched out on an ambulance litter and gave them a drop of brandy. For it was by doles114 of tobacco and spirits that he was in the habit of carrying on his apostolic labours. He again gave way to his love of talking about the fighting round Metz and told some anecdotes. He had several concerning a certain sapper, a native of Lorraine called Larmoise, a man full of resources.
“I did not tell you, general, how this great devil of a sapper used to bring me a bag of potatoes every morning. One day I asked him where he picked them up. Says he: ‘In the enemy’s lines.’ ‘You villain,’ I say to him. Thereupon he explains to me how he has found some fellow-countrymen among the German guards. ‘Fellow-countrymen?’ ‘Yes, fellow-countrymen, fellows from home. We are only68 separated by the frontier. We embraced one another, we talked about our relatives and friends. And they said to me: ”You can take as many potatoes as you like.”’”
And the chaplain added:
“This simple incident made me feel better than any reasoning how cruel and unjust war is.”
“Yes,” said the general, “these annoying intimacies115 occasionally occur at the points of contact of two armies. They must be sternly repressed, having due regard, of course, to the circumstances.”
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scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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craving
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| n.渴望,热望 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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reverent
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| adj.恭敬的，虔诚的 | |
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symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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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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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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dames
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| n.（在英国）夫人（一种封号），夫人（爵士妻子的称号）( dame的名词复数 )；女人 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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lamentable
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| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
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fodder
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| n.草料；炮灰 | |
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gunpowder
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| n.火药 | |
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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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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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acquiesce
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| vi.默许，顺从，同意 | |
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condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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lawfulness
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| 法制，合法 | |
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dispense
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| vt.分配，分发；配(药)，发(药)；实施 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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culpable
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| adj.有罪的，该受谴责的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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scapegoat
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| n.替罪的羔羊，替人顶罪者；v.使…成为替罪羊 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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anecdotes
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| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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edifying
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| adj.有教训意味的，教训性的，有益的v.开导，启发( edify的现在分词 ) | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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narrated
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| v.故事( narrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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maxims
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| n.格言，座右铭( maxim的名词复数 ) | |
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kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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50
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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51
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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renowned
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| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
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piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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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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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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encyclopedia
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| n.百科全书 | |
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59
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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ecclesiastics
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| n.神职者，教会，牧师( ecclesiastic的名词复数 ) | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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intrigue
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| vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋 | |
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guile
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| n.诈术 | |
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eulogy
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| n.颂词；颂扬 | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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intensified
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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inflexibility
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| n.不屈性，顽固，不变性；不可弯曲；非挠性；刚性 | |
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civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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revered
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| v.崇敬，尊崇，敬畏( revere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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automaton
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| n.自动机器，机器人 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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punctiliousness
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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briskness
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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apothecary
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| n.药剂师 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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predilection
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| n.偏好 | |
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paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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lavishly
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| adv.慷慨地，大方地 | |
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decorative
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| adj.装饰的，可作装饰的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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fanatic
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| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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bishops
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| （基督教某些教派管辖大教区的）主教( bishop的名词复数 )； （国际象棋的）象 | |
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smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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commendable
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| adj.值得称赞的 | |
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102
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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103
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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104
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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105
cavalryman
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| 骑兵 | |
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106
chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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apoplectic
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| adj.中风的；愤怒的；n.中风患者 | |
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108
crafty
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| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
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109
wile
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| v.诡计，引诱；n.欺骗，欺诈 | |
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intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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111
inauguration
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| n.开幕、就职典礼 | |
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112
worthier
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| 应得某事物( worthy的比较级 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
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113
undertakings
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| 企业( undertaking的名词复数 )； 保证； 殡仪业； 任务 | |
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114
doles
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| 救济物( dole的名词复数 )； 失业救济金 | |
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intimacies
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| 亲密( intimacy的名词复数 )； 密切； 亲昵的言行； 性行为 | |
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