"I wonder if she's thinking that I ought to be there too; or if I ought not, neither ought she. After all, I'm her son, and she might make a stand-up fight for me, if she would. He's fond of her, the old woman says, and proud of her, and well he may be. What's the use of it all, if she can't manage him? What fools women are! If they only could calculate at first, and take their own line from the beginning, they could manage any men. But she's afraid of him, and she lets him find it out. Well, well, it must be wretched enough for her, too. But why does she not come?"
He had to wait a little longer yet, for another quarter of an hour had elapsed before Mrs. Brookes returned.
"Is she coming?" he asked eagerly, when at length the pale-faced little woman gently entered the room.
"Yes, she is coming. She has to wait until the first lot are gone in to supper. Then master will not miss her."
The old woman came up to him, and took his right hand in hers, looking fondly, but keenly, into his face, and laying the other hand upon his shoulder. "George," she said, "George, my darling boy, I hope you have not brought her very bad news."
He tried to laugh as he loosed his hand, not unkindly, from the old woman's grasp.
"Do you suppose good news would have brought me here where I am forbidden--smuggled goods?"
She shook her head sorrowfully.
"At all events, you are alive and well to tell your ill news yourself, and that is everything to her," said Mrs. Brookes.
The next moment the door opened, and Mrs. Carruthers came in with a hurried step. George Dallas started forward, and caught her in his arms.
"Mother! mother!" "My boy, my darling boy!" were the only words spoken between them, until they were quite alone.
Mrs. Brookes left the room, and the young man was free to explain his untimely visit.
"I dread11 to ask what brings you here, George," said his mother, as she seated herself upon the heavy sofa, and drew him to her side. "I cannot but rejoice to see you, but I am afraid to ask you why you come."
"You may well dread to ask me, mother," replied the young man gloomily. "You may well dread to ask what brings me, outcast as I am, to your fine home, to the place where your husband is master, and where my presence is forbidden."
"George, George!" said his mother, in a tone of grief and remonstrance14.
"Well, I know it's no fault of yours, but it's hard to bear for all that, and I'm not quite such a monster as I am made out to be, to suit Mr. Carruthers's purposes. I'm not so very much worse than the young men, mother, whose stepfathers, or whose own fathers either, don't find it necessary to forbid them the house. But you're afraid of him, mother, and--"
"George," said Mrs. Carruthers quietly, but sternly, "you did not come here to see me for the first time in nine months, at the risk of being turned out of Mr. Carruthers's house, simply to vent9 your anger upon him, and to accuse me wrongfully, and taunt15 me with what I am powerless to prevent. Tell me what has brought you here, I can stay with you only a little while; at any moment I may be missed. Tell me what has brought you against my husband's commands, contrary to my own entreaties16, though it is such a delight to me to see you even so." And the mother put her arms around the neck of her prodigal17 son, and kissed him fondly. Her tears were falling on his rough brown curls.
"Don't cry over me, mother; I'm not worth it; I never was; and you mustn't go back to your company with pale cheeks and red eyes. There, there, it's not so bad as it might be, you know; for as nurse says, I'm alive and well to tell it. The fact is--" He rose, and walked up and down the room in front of the sofa on which his mother was sitting, while he spoke10. "The fact is, I must have money. Don't start, don't be frightened. I have not done anything very dreadful, only the consequences are nearly as fatal as if I had. I have not stolen, or forged, or embezzled18 property. I am not rich or respectable enough to get the chance. But I have lost a large sum at the gaming-table--a sum I don't possess, and have no other means than this of getting."
"Go on," said his mother. She was deadly pale now, and her hands were tightly clasped together, as they lay on her lap, white and slender, against the rich purple of her velvet19 dress.
He glanced at her, quickened his step, and continued in a hard reckless tone, but with some difficulty of utterance20. "I should have been utterly21 ruined but for a friend of mine, who lent me the money. Play debts must be paid, mother; and Routh, though he's not much richer than I am, would not let me be completely lost for want of a helping22 hand. But he had to borrow the money. He could get it lent to him. There's no one but him to lend me a shilling, and he did get it, and I had it and paid it away. But in a short time now he must pay it back and the interest upon it. Luck has been against us both."
"Against you both, George," said Mrs. Carruthers. "Is your friend also a gambler, then?"
"Yes, he is," said Dallas, roughly; "he is a gambler. All my friends are gamblers and drunkards, and everything that's bad. What would you have? Where am I to get pious23, virtuous24, respectable friends? I haven't a shilling; I haven't a character. Your husband has taken care I shall have no credit. Every one knows I am disowned by Mr. Carruthers, and forbidden to show my face at Poynings; and I'm not showing it; I'm only in the servants' quarters, you see." Again he laughed, and again his mother shrank from the sound. "But though my friend is a gambler, like myself, he helps me when I want help, and inconveniences himself to do it. Perhaps that's more than respectable friends--if I had them--would do for me. It's more than I have ever known respectable friends to do for any one."
Mrs. Carruthers rose, and turned her colourless face upon her son. There was an angry light in her large hazel eyes, whose dewy brightness time had not yet greatly harmed. As they confronted each other, a strong likeness25 between the mother and son asserted itself. "George," she said, "you are putting me to needless pain. You have said enough to show me that you are unchanged. You have come here, endangering my peace, and compromising yourself, for the purpose, I suppose, of asking me for money to repay this person who relieved you from a gambling26 debt. Is this your business here?"
"Yes," he said shortly, and with a lowering brow.
"Then listen to me. I cannot give you any money." He started, and came close up to her. "No, George. I have no money at my disposal, and you ought to know that, as well as I know it. Every shilling I have ever had of my own I have given you. You know I never grudged27 it. You know you had at all; but that leaves me without resources. Mr. Carruthers will not help you." She grew paler still, and her lips trembled. "I have asked him many times to alter his determination, a determination which you cannot say is undeserved, George, but it is in vain. I might, perhaps, wonder that you would stoop to take assistance from a man who has such an opinion of you, and who has forbidden you his house, but that the sad knowledge I have gained of such lives as yours has taught me that they utterly destroy self-respect--that a profligate28 is the meanest of creatures. Calm yourself. There is no use in giving loose to your temper towards me, George. You have the power to afflict29 me still, but you can deceive me no more."
She sat down again, wearily, leaning her arm on the back of the sofa, and her head on her hand. There was silence for a few moments. Then she said:
"How much money do you owe this man, George, and when must it be paid?"
"I owe him a hundred and forty pounds, mother, and it must be paid this day month."
"A hundred and forty pounds?" repeated Mrs. Carruthers, in a terrified tone.
"Yes; precisely30 that sum, and I have not a pound in the world to exist on in the mean time. I am cleaned out, that's the fact," he went on, with a dismal31 attempt at speaking lightly; "and I can't carry on any longer." But he spoke to inattentive ears. His mother was lost in thought.
"I cannot give you money," she said at length. "I have not the command of any."
"This doesn't look like want of it," said her son bitterly, as he caught a handful of her velvet dress in his grasp, and then dropped it scornfully.
"My personal expenses are all dictated32 by Mr. Carruthers, George, and all known to him. Don't suppose I am free to purchase dress or not, as I choose. I tell you the exact truth, as I have always told you." She spoke coldly and seriously, like one whose mind is made up to a great trial, who hopes neither to alter its character nor to lessen33 its weight.
"I only know I must have it," he said; "or I don't see any resource for me except to cut my throat."
"No, no," returned his mother, "do not say such dreadful things. Give me time. I will try to find some way of helping you by the time you must have the money. O my boy, my boy!" she covered her face with her hands and sobbed34.
George Dallas looked at her irresolutely35, then came quickly towards her, and leaned over her, as she sat. "Mother," he said, in low hurried tones, "mother, trust me once more, little as I deserve it. Try to help me in this matter; it is life or death to me; and I will try and do better. I am sick of it all; sick of my own weakness above and more than all. But I am irretrievably ruined if I don't get this money. I am quite in Routh's power--and--and--I want to get out of it."
She looked up curiously36 at him. Something in the way he said those words at once alarmed and reassured37 her.
"In this man's power, George? How? To what extent?"
"I cannot tell you, mother; you would not understand. Don't frighten yourself about it. It is nothing that money cannot settle. I have had a lesson now. You shake your head--well, I know I have had many before, but I will learn from this one."
"I have not the money, George," his mother repeated, "and I cannot possibly procure38 it for a little time. You must not stay here."
"I know, I know," he retorted. "You need not re-echo Mr. Carruthers's interdict39. I am going; but surely you can give me a little now; the price of one of these things would go a long way with me." As he spoke, he touched, with no rough hand, her earrings40 and the bracelets41 on her right arm.
"They are family jewels, or you should have them, George," Mrs. Carruthers said in a sad voice. "Give me time, and I will make up the money for you. I have a little I can give you." She stood up and looked fixedly42 at him, her hands resting on his shoulder. The tall and powerful young man, with his haggard anxious face, his hardened look, his shabby careless dress, offered a strange contrast to the woman, whose beauty time had dealt with so lightly, and fortune so generously. Mrs. Carruthers had been a mere43 girl when her son was born, and probably had not been nearly so beautiful as now, when the calm dignity of position and the power of wealth lent all their attractions to her perfect face and form.
The habitual44 seriousness of her expression was but a charm the more, and in moments of excited feeling like the present she regained45 the lustrous46 brilliancy of the past. Searchingly, fondly, she gazed into her son's face, as though reading it for traces of the truth of his promises, seeing in it but too surely indications of the weary, unsatisfying life he had led, the life which had brought disappointment to all her dearest maternal47 hopes. Steadily48 and tenderly he looked at her, a world of regret in his eyes. While they stood thus in brief silence, Mrs. Brookes came in hurriedly.
"You are wanted," he said. "Master is asking for you; he has sent Miss Clare to your room to see if you are ill."
"I must go, my boy," said Mrs. Carruthers, as she hastily kissed him; "and you must not stay. Come with me, Ellen, for a moment. Wait here, George, for what I promised you, and don't travel back to town without an overcoat." Then she left the room at once, the housekeeper with her. George stood where she had left him, looking towards the door.
"My dear practical mother," he said to himself, "she is as kind and as sensible as ever. Wretched about me, but remembering to desire me to buy a coat! I know she will get me the money somehow, and this shall be the last scrape I will get into. It's no use being melodramatic, especially when one is all alone, but I here make a solemn promise to myself that I will keep my promise to her."
He sat down by the fire, and remained still and thoughtful. In a few minutes Mrs. Brookes returned. "Here's the money, Master George," she said. "I was to give it to you with my mistress's love, and she will write to you to London."
He took the folded paper from her hand. It was a ten-pound note.
"Thank you, nurse," he said; "and now I will go. I would like to stay and have a talk with you; but I had better get away, lest any annoyance49 should come to my mother through my staying. I'll see you when you come up to town to the fine house in Mesopotamia. Eh?"
"Lord, Master George, how you do go on! Why, Mr. Carruthers's new house is the far side of the Park."
"I know, nurse. It's all the same thing. No. No more wine, thank you, and nothing to eat. Good-bye.--How am I to get out, though? Not through the window, and up the area wall, am I?"
"I'll show you, Master George. This way."
George Dallas buttoned his coat tightly across his breast, carefully put on his gloves, and took up his hat. As he followed Mrs. Brookes through the long stone passages of the basement story, he looked curiously about him, noting the details of comfort and convenience. "How much better off than I are my mother's servants!" he thought, idly rather than bitterly. When they reached a door which opened upon the court-yard, Mrs. Brookes bade him farewell, not without emotion.
"The great gates are open," she said. "All the servants are either in the hall or the servants' hall. None of the carriages have been called yet. You can slip past without being seen; or if any one sees you, they'll think you belong to the place."
"A serious mistake, dear old woman," said George, with a half-smile, as he once more shook her hand, and stepped out into the cold and darkness. A bitter sense of desolation came over him as the door closed behind him. The court-yard was empty, except of carriages, and he crossed it quickly, and went through the great gates into the avenue, which swept round the terrace. Following it, he found himself brought again by a different route in front of the lighted ball-room; but he did not delay to glance at the scene.
"So I am going away," he said to himself, "richer by ten pounds and my mother's promise. Stop, though! There's the sprig of myrtle. I must not forget or lose the unconscious gift of the great heiress. I wish I had asked nurse what sort of girl she is. I might have taken time to do that. It's not so cold as it was." He had been warmed and fed, and his spirits had risen. It did not take much to raise George Dallas's spirits, even now when the excesses of his wasted life were beginning to tell upon him. "I feel quite strong again. The night is lighter50; the village must be a wretched place. I have a great mind to push on to Amherst. It's only seven miles, and Carruthers can't hear that I have been there; but he might hear of me at the village, and bother my mother about it."
He took his way down the avenue and reached the gate, which lay open. One feeble light twinkled from the upper window of the gate lodge51. Bulger and family had retired52 to rest, the excitement of the arrivals being over, and Bulger would leave the gate to take care of itself until morning. Unquestioned, unseen, George Dallas left Poynings, and, turning to the right under the park wall, set forth53 at a steady pace towards Amherst.
The town of Amherst is very much like the other towns in that part of the country. Close by the railway station lies the Railway Tavern54, snug55 and comfortable, with a "quick draught56" of homebrewed ale and bitter beer, thanks to the powers of suction of porters, guards, and admiring friends of both, who vent their admiration57 in "standing58 glasses round." Not a little of its custom does the Railway Tavern own to that small plot of waste ground in front of it, where, even on this desolate59 night, you might trace the magic circle left by the "ring" of Signor Quagliasco's Mammoth60 Circus on its visit last autumn, and the holes for the pole and tent-pegs, and the most recent ruts on which were left by the wheels of the cart of the travelling photographer who "took" the entire town at Christmas, and, in addition to the photograph, presented each sitter with a blue card embossed with a scarlet61 robin62 bearing in its mouth the legend, "A happy new year to you." Then villas63; Mr. Cobb's, the corn-chandler and coal-merchant, with a speckled imitation-granite porch, white and black, as if it had been daubed with a mixture of its owner's flour and coal-dust; Mr. Lawson's, the attorney, with a big brass64 plate on its outer gate, and two stone pine-apples flanking the entrance; Mr. Charlton Biggs's, the hop-merchant, in all the gentility of a little chaise-house leaning against the street door, approached by a little carriage-drive so narrow that the pony65 had never yet walked up it properly, but had always been ignominiously66 "backed" into its tiny home. Then the outskirts67 of the town; the Independent Chapel68, very square, very red-faced, and very compact, not to say sat upon; the Literary Institute, with more green damp on its stuccoed walls than had been originally intended by its architect, and with fragmentary bills of "Mr. Lens's Starry69 Carpet, or the Heavens at a Glance," fluttering in the night wind from its portico70. Merton house comes next, formerly71 the stronghold of the Merton-Mertons, the great Kentish family, now Mr. Bompas's Classical and Commercial Academy, with a full view of the white dimity bedsteads through the open window, and with "Old Bompas's Blaggards" inscribed72--by the boys of the National School, with whom the grand Bompasians waged constant warfare--on the doorpost. The commencement of the town, a mouldy old bay-windowed shop, known to Mr. Bompas's boys as "Mother Jennings's," and as the repository of "tuck," said tuck consisting of stale buns, hardbake, "all sorts," toffee, treacle73, new rolls, sugar mutton-chops elegantly painted and gilt74, sugar rum and gin bottles, whipcord, pegtops, and marbles; then Bullenger's, apparently75 a small ironmonger's, but in reality another lure76 for the money of Bompas's boys, for in a parlour behind his back shop Bullenger vended77 fireworks and half-crown detonating pistols, catapults, and cross-bows, and all sorts of such-like instruments dear to predatory boys. Then the ordinary lot of butchers, bakers78, tailors, hosiers, grocers, chemists (Mr. Hotten, member of the Pharmaceutical79 Society of Great Britain, also strongly reliant on Bompas's custom for cigars and hair-oil for the big boys, and bath-pipe and liquorice for the little ones), and then the police-station; the old gray church, with its square ivy-covered tower, its billowy graves and its half-obliterated sun-dial over the porch, and then the fresh green fields again.
All these particulars George Dallas noted80 in the morning, when, having early left the bed he had procured81 at the inn, he called in at the station and learned from the friendly porter, who was again engaged in mending his shoes with tin and tacks82, when the next train would start for London, and where he could find a tailor's shop, walked briskly through the little town, with feelings very different from those which had possessed83 him on his first arrival at the Amherst station. Now, his step was free and light, he carried his head erect84, and though he occasionally shivered as the cold wind came sweeping85 over the downs and gave him a sharp unfriendly nip as it hurried by him in its progress to the sea, he bore the insult with tolerable fortitude86, and seemed to derive87 immediate88 comfort from plunging89 his hand into his trousers pocket, where lay the ten-pound note he had received from his mother. It was there, stiff and crisp to his touch. He had taken it out and looked at it twice or thrice on the road, but he could not do that now in the town; he must content himself with touching90 it, and the crinkling sound was music in his ear; he had been so long without money, that he derived91 the keenest pleasure from the possession of this actual tangible92 sum, and felt so little inclined to part with it, that, though he had passed, and noticed in passing, the tailor's shop to which he had been recommended by the porter, he still walked on. It was not until he had made a circuit of the old churchyard at the end of the town, where even on summer days the wind is generally at play, and where on winter nights it ramps93 and rages in a manner terrible to hear and feel, that George Dallas began to comprehend the necessity of at once procuring94 some warmer clothing, and, turning back, made straight for the tailor's shop.
A neat, clean-looking shop, with "Evans, Tailor," painted over the window, the effect being slightly spoiled by the knob of the roller blind, which formed a kind of full-stop in the middle of the word "Tail, or," and divided it into two unequal portions; with "Evans, Tailor," blazing from its brass door-plate; with "Evans, Tailor," inscribed with many twisted flourishes on its wire blind, where it emerged coyly from. "Liveries" preceding it, and took hasty refuge in "Uniforms" at its conclusion. Evans himself behind the counter, a fat, chubby95, rosy96 little man, with clustering iron-gray hair round his temples, and a bit of round scalp wig97 fitting, like the lid of a teapot, into a bald place on his crown. Apparently he had been all his life tailoring to such an extent for other people as to have had no time to attend to himself, for he stood behind the counter this winter's day in his shirt sleeves, and without his coat.
The old man bowed as George Dallas entered the shop, and asked him what they could do for him. Dallas replied that he wanted a warm thick overcoat, "if they'd got such a thing."
"Such a thing! Well, there may be such a thing, perhaps, but I'm not certain, not being an article kept in stock," replied Mr. Evans, "which is mostly tarpaulin98 for the railway guards and stokers, likewise canal boatmen, which is often customers. A warm thick overcoat," repeated the old man, "is a article generally made to order, though I've a sort of a recollection of a something of the kind returned on our hands in consequence of the party which was staying at the Lion having left unexpected. Let me see!" he continued, opening two or three 'drawers. "I ain't so young as I was, sir, and I'm touched in the wind; and this nasty gas which we've only had this winter don't do for me, making me bust99 out in sudden presperation. He! I thought so! Here's a warm thick overcoat, blue Witney, lined with plaid; that's a article I can recommend; our own make; we ain't ashamed of it, you see!" and he pointed100 to a label stitched inside just below the collar, where the inevitable101 "Evans, Tailor," in gilt letters, was supplemented by the address, "Amherst."
George Dallas took the coat and slipped it on. It fitted tolerably, and was thick and warm. "What is the price?" he asked.
"We can do that for you at fifty-three and six," said the old man. "It was a three-pounder, that coat was, when made for the party at the Lion, but we'll make a reduction now. Fifty-three and six, and our own make. You couldn't do better."
"I dare say not," said Dallas absently. "Please to change this for me."
At the sight of the bank note Mr. Evans's pleasant face became a little clouded. He did not relish102 the notion of changing notes for persons with whom he had no previous acquaintance. But after he had taken the note in his hand and held it between his eyes and the light, and flattened103 it out on the counter, his cheerful expression returned, and he said, "All right, sir. I'll change it and welcome! I know where you got this note, sir! Ah, you may start, but I do! You got it from our post-office, lower down the street; here's the post-office stamp on it which they're compelled to put on every note passing through their hands. Look, 'Amherst, B. 1, Jan. 30.' Thank you, sir; six and six's, three and seven is ten; thank you, sir!" and the old man, having counted the change from a cash-box in a desk at the back of the shop, hurried round to open the door and bow his customer out.
Within half an hour George Dallas was in the train on his return to London.
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1
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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6
waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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7
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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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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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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taunt
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| n.辱骂，嘲弄；v.嘲弄 | |
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entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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prodigal
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| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
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embezzled
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| v.贪污，盗用（公款）( embezzle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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grudged
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| 怀恨（grudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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profligate
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| adj.行为不检的；n.放荡的人，浪子，肆意挥霍者 | |
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afflict
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| vt.使身体或精神受痛苦，折磨 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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32
dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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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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irresolutely
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| adv.优柔寡断地 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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interdict
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| v.限制；禁止；n.正式禁止；禁令 | |
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40
earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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50
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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51
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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mammoth
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| n.长毛象；adj.长毛象似的，巨大的 | |
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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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robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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villas
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| 别墅，公馆( villa的名词复数 )； （城郊）住宅 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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ignominiously
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| adv.耻辱地，屈辱地，丢脸地 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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treacle
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| n.糖蜜 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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vended
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| v.出售（尤指土地等财产）( vend的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指在公共场所）贩卖；发表（意见，言论）；声明 | |
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bakers
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| n.面包师( baker的名词复数 )；面包店；面包店店主；十三 | |
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pharmaceutical
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| adj.药学的，药物的；药用的，药剂师的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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81
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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82
tacks
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| 大头钉( tack的名词复数 )； 平头钉； 航向； 方法 | |
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83
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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84
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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85
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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86
fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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87
derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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89
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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90
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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91
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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92
tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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93
ramps
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| resources allocation and multiproject scheduling 资源分配和多项目的行程安排 | |
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94
procuring
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的现在分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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chubby
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| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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98
tarpaulin
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| n.涂油防水布，防水衣，防水帽 | |
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99
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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101
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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102
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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103
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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