“Sir Richard said definitely to-day that everything has now been tried,” said the nurse sadly, for both the day and the night nurse had grown fond of their odd little patient. “I think they always knew it was hopeless.... I fear she is growing suspicious. She cried a good deal of last night, and only slept for a couple of hours. Nurse Calderon said she thought she heard her whisper to herself in the night: ‘Oh, God! I can’t! I can’t! Let me get better!’ Poor little thing! It’s too horrible, and, of course, everything will—will get worse.”
Claudia, who had read up the progress of such cases in a medical book she had found in Gilbert’s library, gave assent1. She knew that the end of such cases is the abject2 humiliation3 of human flesh where so many of the functions of the body are paralysed. The account had made her feel sick in the reading, and she shrank from the thought of all that lay before the girl—she was little more—who lay in the bedroom beyond.
Claudia opened the bedroom door full of misgivings4, her heart very heavy as the thought of Fay’s night vigil,[248] so that she was unprepared for the sight that met her gaze. The room always was a bower5 of flowers, generally coloured ones, for Fay said bluntly that white ones reminded her of a funeral; but this afternoon it presented an unusually gay aspect. The apartment was almost gaudy6, and at first Claudia did not take in why it was so bright. Fay was propped7 up among a nest of pillows, her tiny face, very little changed, hidden under an enormous black hat with three great blue feathers floating over it. The bed was strewn with hats, the chairs were littered with them. Pink cardboard boxes of various sizes stood everywhere.
“Darling, you’ve come in the nick of time,” called out Fay excitedly. “Isn’t this a duck of a hat? You see, I must have some new hats. I shall be better soon now, and it’s no good getting up and finding you’ve got nothing to put on your cocoanut. And Madame Rose has got all her new models for the summer. This is French. You can see that with half an eye, can’t you? I call it shick, don’t you? Something like a hat.”
A dark-eyed Jewess, who had evidently brought the hats, was standing8 at the foot of the bed, and broke in with:
“Straight from Parry, Miss Morris,” she said glibly9, though it was evident that it had been concocted10 in some cheap London warehouse11. “Very latest thing. Real style there. I thought of you as soon as I saw it. It’s too good for anyone else, I said.”
“Ah! did you? Give me the hand-glass. I want to see how my dial looks under it. Ugh! like an under-done muffin left out in the rain. Give us over the rouge12 and the powder-puff. And the bunch of curls out of the drawer. Where’s that eyebrow13 pencil I had this morning? I rub the blessed stuff off on the pillow. There! that’s better, cocky. Now I’ve got a bit of bloom. We’re not forty and in the cupboard yet, thank the Lord! It[249] saves a lot of trouble if you’ve got dark eyebrows14. Yours don’t rub off and get smeary15, do they?”
“It’s curious,” smiled Claudia, removing one of the hats in order to sit down, “that your eyebrows are so light when your hair is so dark.”
“You dear holy innocent! Did you think my hair was really this colour? Not much. The hair-dresser does it, and jolly expensive it is. My hair, as a child, was a silly soppy sort of light shade, so I improved on it. I’m much more effective with black hair. Makes a bit of a contrast. Got the idea out of a story where a man was raving18 over blue eyes and black hair. First of all, I tried red. But it’s so difficult with hats and all the boys call you Ginger19.”
She might have been discussing the colour of a parasol, so impersonal20 and frank was her tone. Evidently it never occurred to her that these were what is called in ladies’ papers, “secrets of the toilet-table.”
Fay turned to the girl, who was adjusting the trimming on another hat, equally large and covered with roses of a nightmare shade of pink.
“You remember my hair when it was red, don’t you, Vera?” She chuckled21. “I remember you didn’t know me when I came into the shop, and you was so polite”—she gave Claudia a wink—“that I knew you hadn’t spotted23 me. I’d run up the devil of a bill, and Madame Rose was giving me the frozen eye just then. I think I shall keep to black now. It does suit me, doesn’t it?”
“Admirably,” returned her sister-in-law, controlling a desire to laugh.
“I like your hair,” commented Fay; “there are sort of coloury bits in it. I thought at first you must dye it, only Jack24 told me you didn’t, and that it was like that when you were a kid. It’s real pretty. Darling, try on this[250] hat. I want to see it on someone else. There’s no doubt it’s stylish25. I hate the sort of hats nobody notices. When I pay big money I like to get the goods.”
Claudia good-naturedly removed her own smart little toque of white brocade and skunk26, and placed the top-heavy confection upon her head.
Fay’s face was a study in astonishment27 and dismay as she looked at the other woman.
“Well, I’m blowed! It looks—oh! sort of funny—and”—she shook her head—“Vera, are you sure it’s good style? All right, keep your hair on, I didn’t say it wasn’t, only—— Crickey Bill, does it look like that on me?”
The girl from the shop eyed Claudia with no great favour. Her small, beady eyes looked sourly and enviously28 at the perfectly-cut, black velvet29 gown and elegant skunk and ermine furs. She was cute enough to realize that Claudia’s clothes were the “real thing” and spelt not only money—her own wares30 were absurdly overpriced—but taste. She was accustomed to serving “ladies” in the profession, who familiarly called her “Vera, my dear,” and asked, and generally took her advice, as well as swallowed her fulsome31 flattery.
“Take it off,” said Fay almost sharply. “I hate it now. It’s too large, it’s too——” Then, with a sudden change to wistfulness, she added, “but it’s you that makes it wrong. You’re good style, and I’m not. I’m common, dead common. I don’t wonder you didn’t want me in the family.”
“Fay, dear, don’t.” Claudia glanced at the sulky Vera, who was packing up the hats. Apparently32 Fay had never heard of the undesirability33 of washing dirty linen34 in public.
“You’re a lady. A blind man could see that. If you hadn’t been so sweet I’d have hated you directly I saw you. I knew what you were at once. Of course, Jack is a perfect gentleman, but that’s different somehow,[251] except”—vaguely35—“I liked him a bit extra for it. He looks different in his clothes to the other men, and yet those men spend a lot of money too. I knew a man once, he owned a couple of halls in the Midlands, and he told me he had fifty-two waistcoats, one for every week of the year. I don’t suppose Jack’s got as many as that?”
“I am sure he hasn’t.”
“Won’t you take no hat at all?” said the annoyed shop-girl, breaking in rudely. “You might take this one with the pink roses. I’m sure that’s quite enough.”
“No, no, I’ll wait till I can come to the shop. Here, my dear, here’s a half a crown for your trouble. I’ll come in—soon.” She looked quickly from the shop-girl to Claudia, a desperate question in her blue eyes.
“That’s a much better arrangement,” returned Claudia cheerfully. “We’ll go together, shall we?”
“Yes, yes,” cried Fay eagerly, clapping her hands. “But, I say,” as the door closed behind the girl and her hat-boxes, “will you take me to your hat shop where that came from?”
“With pleasure.”
“What; come here.” Fay beckoned37 her imperiously to her side. “Do you mean you are not ashamed of me? I could keep my mouth dead shut, you know. Do you mean that you’d let me wear the same sort of hats as you, that you’ll try and make a lady of me?”
Claudia could not speak, she gently nodded.
“Well,” said Fay huskily, her eyes suspiciously moist, “you’re it all right, that’s all I can say. I—you can touch me for anything you want. You’ve only got to ask me. I say, hand me over that leather case from the chest of drawers—yes, that’s the one.”
Wonderingly, Claudia obeyed, and handed her the case which was a cheap leather imitation.
[252]
Fay opened the case with a key from under her pillow and rummaged38 inside. Presently she produced a small box.
“There! I want to show you this. It’s for you. It’s quite straight; you needn’t think I got it in any—any way you wouldn’t like. I bought it off someone who was hard up.” “It” was a diamond and ruby39 brooch, and quite a tasteful affair in the form of two hearts, transfixed by an arrow.
“Oh! but Fay, I couldn’t——”
“Take it, I say, or I shall think you don’t mean what you said just now. Two hearts, d’yer see—you and me! Quite romantic, isn’t it? Put it on that lacy thing at your throat. Yes, it looks nice. No, you’re not going to thank me. Just give me a kiss, that’s all.”
For a few moments the lips of the two met, so different in their upbringing and views of life, but strangely brought together by the hand of Fate.
“Now look at my joolery. Never seen it, have you? Well, it aint so dusty, if I says it. I’ve always got them to shell out all right. After all,” with a quaint41 little touch of vanity, “when you top the bill you’re worth it, and I don’t believe in making yourself cheap or making men meaner than they are. Not that I exactly like them for what they give you, but it shows they do like you, because a man doesn’t stump42 up easily.... There, that’s a stunning43 pendant, isn’t it? It cost two hundred and fifty, because I went and chose it.”
Claudia was astounded44 at the value of the jewellery that reposed45 in the shabby, unremarkable leather case. She saw that Fay loved the things by the way she touched them. Some of them were beautiful. But presently Fay gave a sigh and, selecting a large diamond pendant which she put round her neck, over her nightdress, she shut up the case. “Put the things back,” she said queerly. “I—I——” Then, to Claudia’s dismay, she began to sob[253] rather pitifully like a frightened child. Claudia drew the little head to her breast.
“Hush, dear, you mustn’t excite yourself. It’s bad for you. Nurse will say it’s my fault, you know.”
Claudia tried to think of a laughing reply, but no words would come. She could only rearrange the matinée cap and put her own cool cheek against the one wet with tears.
“Fay, dear, to please me—you said you’d do anything for me—don’t cry so. Are you—are you in pain?”
She wiped the tears away gently with her handkerchief, the rouge from the cheeks coming off too.
Presently Fay grew a little calmer.
“Claudia, I want to ask you something because you are honest.” Oh! how Claudia’s heart sank! She dreaded47 what the next words would be, but as usual the unexpected came from Fay.
“Do you think this is a punishment for—for not being good? Nurse has got a Bible, and I—just for fun—asked her to read me a bit. It frightened me. I’m not what you call bad, am I?”
“No, Fay,” said Claudia steadily48, determined49 that not all the religion or moral teaching in the world should make her distress50 the doomed51 woman. “No, Fay, don’t distress yourself. I don’t believe for an instant this is a punishment.” She tried to speak simply, but the task was difficult. Her own religion was a very vague one. She believed that if there were a God, as so many Christians52 averred53, a God who was all-loving, understanding beyond finite conception, there could never be any question of punishment such as Fay suggested. Fay’s mind and morals were stunted54, undeveloped. Since she had come in contact with the queer people who were her fellow “pros,” Claudia had come very clearly to recognize that[254] the lives of such artistes, especially those like Fay, who had been born practically on the boards of a music-hall, were not subject to the ordinary judgments55 of society. Theirs was a little world of its own, with its obligations, its own ideas of right and wrong. To do another artiste out of a job, to queer her turn, to refuse to put your hand in your pocket for a deserving case, to crib another person’s business or her “fancy boy,” those were unpardonable sins in Fay’s world. To have flitted from lover to lover—in her case without any breaking of hearts or ugly recriminations—was only a venial56 one.
Fay gave a huge relieved sigh. “If you say so, I won’t worry about that any more. Of course, mind you, I ought to have kept straight. Mother told me that when I was a kid. But I don’t know. Men always liked me, you see, and I’m fond of them. Of course, I know you wouldn’t do the things I’ve done.”
Claudia inwardly winced57. That very morning she had had an impassioned lover-like letter from Frank complaining that she never came for the sittings now. “I know you have been a great deal with your sister-in-law, but sometimes I fear you cannot care for me when you can live without seeing me. To me, you are the whole world.”
“I expect Jack and I are pretty poor tripe,” continued Fay calmly. Then a new thought struck her. “I say, that night I fainted, I thought I heard a nice voice in the hall, a man’s voice. It wasn’t the doctor, because he’s got a down-in-your-boots voice, and it wasn’t none of my pals58. Was it someone, or did I fancy it?”
“I think it was probably a friend of mine, Colin Paton. He got the specialist and nurse for you, and often inquires after you.”
“That’s jolly decent of him, because he doesn’t know me from Adam.” She looked round her at the many vases crowded with flowers. “But people have been nice[255] to me, haven’t they? It shows I’m liked, doesn’t it?” It was such harmless vanity that Claudia smiled. “Is your friend a great swell59, Sir Somebody or other?”
“Oh, dear, no.” Claudia found herself laughing at the idea of anyone calling Colin Paton “a great swell.” She must remember to tell him, he would enjoy the joke too. Then she stiffened60 a little. No, she would not tell him anything. He left her out of his life. “He’s the simplest and kindest of men, a friend one can always rely on.” Her sense of fairness prompted her to say so much.
“He’s old, then?”
“No, about thirty-eight. Did my description sound like a greybeard?”
“Yes, ‘kind’ sounds so old somehow. Of course, he’s gone on you. He must be. Would he come and see me, do you think? Why,” with a sudden flash of inspiration, “it must be the man Polly said was here that night and treated her as if she was a duchess, and thanked her for everything. Polly flopped61 immediate62. She’s had a balmy look ever since. Oh, yes, I don’t think! Is he handsome?”
“No, only nice looking.”
“Well, I should like him to have black, flashing eyes—don’t you love black, flashing eyes—and dark curly hair, and long, white hands like the man in the novel, ‘Did He Love Her.’ I’ll just have to listen to his voice.... Must you go now? Oh, well, I suppose I mustn’t be selfish. Jack will be in soon. It’s rough on Jack me being like this, isn’t it? Only a log for a wife.... He’s better than I expected, because”—with a canny63 wag of her head—“Jack didn’t marry me to have me lying here, like this. Men like their women to be pretty lively and ‘on the go,’ especially when they marry someone of my sort. Poor old boy! I’m really fond of Jack, you know. He’s always treated me decently. I hope I’ll[256] get well or else—— All right, yes, of course, I won’t worry. Come again to-morrow. Where are you going?”
“To my mother’s. She’s got a musical afternoon, and I must look in. Several grand opera stars and a great pianist. It will be very fireworky, I’m sure. Good-bye, dear.”
In the hall she met Jack coming in.
“Hallo! Claud.” He heaved a deep sigh. “I say, this is breaking my heart.”
“Don’t think about your heart, think about hers,” said Claudia, putting her hand on his shoulder. He looked very dejected and some of the youth had gone out of his face. The contented65, well-fed expression was flecked with something closely resembling unhappiness. “She is not likely to live for many years, and let’s try and make the best of it for her, Jacky boy.”
“It’s hell hearing her talk about her new songs and going to Paris with me.... I shall blurt66 out the truth one day, sure as Fate. It’s lucky I’ve got a stolid67 sort of look, but it breaks me up inside. I remember talking to you once about thinking too much and rootling about for meanings in life. Why should Fay have to die like this? She hasn’t harmed anyone!”
Claudia shook her head and was silent. Many greater minds than poor Jack’s had wrestled68 with that problem, and there had never been, and never would be, any answer. With Jack, his belated questioning was rather pathetic. He had never wanted to ask questions, he had been content just to live, and now his happy-go-lucky love for Fay had turned into tragedy.
As they stood there they could faintly hear the parrot in the distance still calling, “Chuck it! Chuck it!” accompanied by a hoarse69 chuckle22 that seemed to mock them with some uncanny knowledge. The little hall was tidy[257] now, but it meant that its volatile70 mistress would never dash through it any more.
“I say, Claud,” said Jack, taking off his coat, “what’s come over Gilbert? I went into court to-day—a fellow I know was interested in an arbitration71 case, had money invested—and when we got there I found Gilbert had been briefed. He started splendidly in that ‘listen to me’ sort of manner, and then he got muddled72. He couldn’t remember the name of the firm he was speaking about, and he had to ask his junior. Everybody was noticing it. Why, he used to have such a ripping memory! What’s wrong with the works?”
Claudia was not so alarmed as she well might have been had she known the symptoms of nerve breakdown73.
“Perhaps he took the case up in a hurry, sometimes he has to do that, you know.”
“No, he didn’t, because the fellow with me told me that he knew he had been secured for the case a long time ago. I heard someone say he was going to pieces.”
“He wants a holiday.... Mother will think I am never coming. Go in and talk to Fay.”
He saw her into her car, and a few minutes later Claudia found herself alighting on the red carpet outside her old home. The sounds of a violin played by a master hand reached her as she entered. The Rivingtons were just going, Mrs. Rivington very shrill74 and chatty, and the General rather tottery75 and deaf.
“I say,” said Mrs. Rivington, with a glint of malice76 in her eye, “is it true your friend Frank Hamilton is going to marry Mrs. Jacobs? Good thing for him, I should say. She’s just rolling in money, almost indecent, and anyone can see she’s madly in love with him. It’s all very well to talk art,” sneeringly77, “but it usually spells money, doesn’t it? Artists are just like the rest of us, only they pretend a bit more. He’s always with her, so I suppose the engagement will be announced soon.”
[258]
Claudia attributed the remarks to ill-nature on Mrs. Rivington’s part, for her chief occupation in life was planting arrows as often as she could in the weak spots in her friends’ armour78. Claudia could afford to smile serenely79 in reply. Did she not know whom Frank loved? A woman rather enjoys a clandestine80 love-affair, and Claudia hugged to herself her closer knowledge of Frank’s inner life. She knew she was the core of it.
“Mr. Hamilton’s in there now, talking to the Duchess of Roxford,” continued Mrs. Rivington. “Ridiculous how artists are run after, isn’t it? I don’t suppose he was anyone in particular. Artists never are. Some people find that interesting, but I must say, personally, I prefer good breeding. So unmistakable. Good-bye. It’s too dreadful about The Girlie Girl, but I was right, after all, wasn’t I?”
Claudia stood quietly in the doorway81 until the violinist, the great Ysaye, had finished playing. There were many well-known people present, great names in the social and artistic82 firmaments, for Circe had always held a little court all her life, and she had cleverly managed to pursue her uneven83 way without offending any of the powerful social leaders, who, though they always remembered her trespasses84 against her, generously spoke85 with more or less indulgence of them. She was hated by a few, like Lady Currey, but they did not count for very much. Circe had never been actively86 malicious87, and she had always been too immersed in her own affairs to find time to be inquisitive88 about other people’s, hence she had acquired a certain reputation for fair dealing89 and generosity90 of character not altogether deserved. Now she very seldom entertained, but when she did so, she did it superlatively well, and many artists she had encouraged in their young and aspiring91 days were glad to do her honour.
The music stopped and she found Frank at her side.
“At last! I have been waiting for you all the afternoon.[259] I was afraid you were not coming. Claudia, this cannot go on. You are driving me mad. It is deliberate? Have you all the time just been playing with me?”
“Hush! don’t be so indiscreet.” She smiled, for Mrs. Rivington’s words returned to her mind. Frank Hamilton attracted by Mrs. Jacob’s money-bags! “I’ll talk to you later. You shall get me some tea. I must go over and speak to mother.”
She threaded her way, with handshakes and smiles, to where Circe, in a most exquisite92 frock, sat in a shaded corner, among a lot of scented93 cushions. She was talking with more animation94 than usual to a man whose back was towards Claudia. With her quick eye for beauty, she noticed that he had a particularly well-shaped head, which was finely set on his shoulders. Circe was talking in French to him.
Circe caught sight of her, and stopped short. Had it not been almost impossible, Claudia would have thought that her mother looked distinctly embarrassed and taken aback. Then the well-known sweet smile drifted over her still beautiful mouth, and the momentary96 impression vanished.
“Claudia, we were just talking of you. You are late, child. Let me introduce to you an old friend, Mr. Mavrocopoulos.”
The man rose and bowed with unusual grace, and Claudia saw a very well-preserved man of about fifty-five, with black hair flecked with grey, and remarkably97 fine dark eyes. She returned his evident look of interest, and again she received a peculiar98 impression as of something that was vaguely familiar and yet somewhat dreamlike. She was aware that Circe was watching them.
“Have I not met you before?” inquired Claudia. “Your face seems familiar to me, somehow.”
[260]
Something flashed into his eyes, and his lips smiled as he turned to Circe.
“No, Claudia, I don’t think you can remember Mr. Mavrocopoulos. He has not been in England for many years.”
“But I saw you when you were a child of three,” said the man. “I remember you well, very well. I do not pretend that I should have known you as that child, but I remember you well.”
Claudia knew his name as that of a famous and very wealthy Greek family, and she recalled a rumour99 that had once linked it with her mother’s. Had they found happiness together? Were there golden memories between them? She wondered curiously100 how a man and woman felt in such a case, who, after the lapse101 of many years, met again. Did yesterday seem as to-day? Was memory sharp or dulled by time, did they remember the high-water-mark of their passion, or the moment when they had said good-bye? Were they glad to meet again? If she and Frank met after many years, would they——? Then suddenly she heard Fay’s voice saying confidently: “I know you wouldn’t do the things I’ve done.” But Circe had done them, too, and she had not had the excuse poor Fay could bring forward.
There were no signs of regret on her mother’s face. She never spoke as one who finds any bitterness in the dregs of such a past. Indeed, she always spoke as one who felt that she had fulfilled her destiny, who has eaten stolen fruit joyously102, without a scruple103, without a fear. Her mother’s contempt was for women who looked longingly104 over the hedge and were afraid to jump.
With a few more words Claudia left the two together.
Circe’s slanting105 eyes, carefully made up, but in the shaded light still siren-like and magnetic, looked for some seconds into the eyes of the man beside her.
[261]
“She is like you, Demetrius, and she has always been my favourite,” she murmured.
His only answer was to take her hand in his, and raise it to his lips.
“I return to Rome next week, but I take back with me a living picture, the incarnation of a dream.”
Claudia was sipping106 the cup of tea that Frank had procured107 for her, when she bethought herself that she had not yet seen Patricia.
“Have you seen Pat? It is not humanly possible that she has tucked herself in a corner!”
His eyes were hungrily devouring108 her face, and lingering on her lips, so that she had the pleasant sensation of a secret caress109. Mrs. Jacobs! How ridiculous!
“I saw her disappear half an hour ago in a conspirator-like manner with Mr. Colin Paton, into that room over there.”
There was a little frown between her brows. Colin was her friend.
“Why do men and women usually conspire to be alone together?”
Seated close together, talking very earnestly, Pat more excited than she had ever seen her, were the two whom Frank had seen disappear half an hour before. As a matter of fact, it had only been ten minutes, but Frank had always had his doubts of Colin’s friendship.
“ ... bushels of apples and immense quantities of ...” Pat was saying, when her sister came in. “Oh! Claudia, you have come. We’d almost given you up.”
In an utterly113 different style from her own, Patricia was looking most attractive that afternoon. She had on a[262] soft white charmeuse gown, which showed the long lines of her figure, and clung around her in a manner calculated to send her admirers crazy. The cool nonchalant look which she usually wore had given place to something more intense, more human. Something seemed to have aroused her from her virginal slumber114, and is not that brightness in the eyes, that flush on the cheek, generally aroused by a male? Claudia took all this in at a glance, and it was not till afterwards that she had time to reflect on the odd subject-matter of their earnest conversation.
“I wondered where you were,” said Claudia, rather frigidly115. “How do you do, Colin? I think mother wants you, Pat.” It was a fib, but she had to explain her entrance.
Then she turned with a sweet but cold smile to Colin Paton, who had quietly risen.
“I hear you have written a great book and are going to become famous. Congratulations! I must buy a copy as soon as it comes out.... Frank, I want some more tea. I’m so thirsty.”
Pachmann was playing as they made their way back to the tea-room, his fairy-like fingers lightly caressing116 the keys into exquisite joyousness117.
“I want you to come to the studio to dinner next Monday,” said Frank eagerly. “You always said you’d like to meet Henry Bridgeman and his wife if I could arrange it?” Claudia was a great admirer of Bridgeman’s etchings. “Well, they are coming to dinner at the studio on Monday. Will you come too?”
“Of course, I shall be delighted,” returned Claudia, not even troubling to think of her engagements. “I shall love it. And”—with a hard laugh—“I’ll come for a sitting to-morrow if you like, before I go to Fay.... Dear, you mustn’t say such things here. It’s compromising.” A loud chord on the piano, immediately followed[263] by the sound of a man’s voice, made her raise a warning finger. “Hush!”
The words came clearly enough to both of them as they stood together.
“Ah! fill the Cup, what boots it to repeat,
How Time is slipping underneath119 our feet:
Than sadden after none, or bitter fruit.”
It was Liza Lehmann’s setting, and the accompaniment thundered and rumbled121, and then softened122 down to a plaintive123, appealing melody. It might have been the voice of Circe herself, beckoning124, alluring125, promising118....
“Ah! love, could you and I with Fate conspire
To grasp the sorry scheme of things entire
Would we....”
After all, why had she so many scruples126? How did she come to be possessed127 of them? Why did she hesitate to grasp her happiness?
She looked up and found Colin Paton’s eyes fixed40 upon her, and they wore an expression she did not know.
Then she heard Frank’s voice murmuring in her ear. “Claudia, if you only knew how much I love you. If you would only trust yourself to me. Why are you afraid?”
“I don’t know,” she said truthfully, “I don’t know.”
She gave him a particularly tender smile, out of sheer feminine perverseness128, impelled129 by something that rankled130 and festered within her. Colin Paton should be made to understand that there was at least one man who was a real friend to her, yes, and might be more.
“Turn down an empty Glass....”
Why not?
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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humiliation
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misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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gaudy
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propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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standing
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glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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concocted
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| v.将（尤指通常不相配合的）成分混合成某物( concoct的过去式和过去分词 )；调制；编造；捏造 | |
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11
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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12
rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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13
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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15
smeary
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| 弄脏的 | |
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16
whoop
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| n.大叫，呐喊，喘息声；v.叫喊，喘息 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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19
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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20
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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21
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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23
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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24
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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25
stylish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的；漂亮的，气派的 | |
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26
skunk
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| n.臭鼬，黄鼠狼；v.使惨败，使得零分；烂醉如泥 | |
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27
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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28
enviously
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| adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
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29
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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30
wares
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| n. 货物, 商品 | |
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31
fulsome
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| adj.可恶的，虚伪的，过分恭维的 | |
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32
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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33
undesirability
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| n.不受欢迎 | |
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34
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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35
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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36
saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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37
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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39
ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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40
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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41
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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42
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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43
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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44
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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47
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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49
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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50
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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51
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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52
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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53
averred
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| v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；证明…属实；作为事实提出 | |
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54
stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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55
judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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56
venial
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| adj.可宽恕的；轻微的 | |
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57
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
pals
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| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
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59
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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60
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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61
flopped
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| v.（指书、戏剧等）彻底失败( flop的过去式和过去分词 )；（因疲惫而）猛然坐下；（笨拙地、不由自主地或松弛地）移动或落下；砸锅 | |
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62
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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63
canny
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| adj.谨慎的，节俭的 | |
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64
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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65
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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66
blurt
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| vt.突然说出，脱口说出 | |
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67
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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68
wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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69
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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70
volatile
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| adj.反复无常的，挥发性的，稍纵即逝的，脾气火爆的；n.挥发性物质 | |
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71
arbitration
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| n.调停，仲裁 | |
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72
muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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73
breakdown
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| n.垮，衰竭；损坏，故障，倒塌 | |
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74
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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75
tottery
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| adj.蹒跚的，摇摇欲倒 | |
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76
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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77
sneeringly
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| 嘲笑地，轻蔑地 | |
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78
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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79
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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80
clandestine
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| adj.秘密的，暗中从事的 | |
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81
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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82
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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83
uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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84
trespasses
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| 罪过( trespass的名词复数 )； 非法进入 | |
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85
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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86
actively
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| adv.积极地，勤奋地 | |
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87
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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88
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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89
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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90
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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91
aspiring
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| adj.有志气的；有抱负的；高耸的v.渴望；追求 | |
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92
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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93
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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94
animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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95
belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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96
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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97
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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98
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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99
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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100
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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101
lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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102
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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103
scruple
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| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
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104
longingly
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| adv. 渴望地 热望地 | |
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105
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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106
sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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107
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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108
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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109
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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110
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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111
conspire
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| v.密谋，（事件等）巧合，共同导致 | |
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112
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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113
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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114
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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115
frigidly
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| adv.寒冷地；冷漠地；冷淡地；呆板地 | |
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116
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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117
joyousness
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| 快乐，使人喜悦 | |
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118
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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119
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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120
jocund
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| adj.快乐的，高兴的 | |
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121
rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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122
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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123
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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124
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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125
alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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126
scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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127
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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128
perverseness
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| n. 乖张, 倔强, 顽固 | |
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129
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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130
rankled
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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