"I say, Etchingham," said Gilbert one morning, glancing up from his accounts at his lordship, who was moodily21 looking out of window, smoking, and wondering whether he should propose to Miss Lambert before the season finally broke up, or leave it until next spring,--"I say, Etchingham I'm pretty near sick of town."
"Same here!" replied his lordship; "fusty and beastly, ain't it? Well, we're close upon cutting it; it's Goodwood the week after next, and then there's Brighton--"
"O, curse Brighton!" broke in Lloyd.
"All right," said Lord Ticehurst, lazily dropping into a chair. "Curse Brighton by all means. But what a rum fellow you are! You wouldn't go to the Brighton Meeting last year; and I recollect22 that there was a talk about it at Rummer's; and Jack23 Manby--the Bustard, you know--said you'd never go there again, since in Gaslight's year, I think he said, the sea-air spoiled your complexion24."
"Manby's a chattering25 idiot," said Lloyd savagely26; "and next time you hear men talking of why I don't go to the Brighton Meeting, you may say I don't go because it isn't a meeting at all, a third-rate concern with a pack of platers to run, and a crowd of cockneys to look at them. You may say that."
"Much obliged," said Lord Ticehurst; "you may say it yourself, if you want to. I don't hold with mixin' myself up in other fellows' shines;" and he sucked solemnly at his cigar, and did his best to look dignified27.
"My dear old Etchingham, don't be angry. I was vexed28 at hearing you repeat the gabble of those infernal fellows at that filthy30 tavern--it isn't anything better--because it's not only about me they talk. However, that's neither here nor there. I suppose you'll have the wind-up dinner at Richmond as usual."
"All right, Gil, my boy!" said his good-tempered lordship; "there's no bones broke, and it's all squared. Of course we'll have the dinner. Let's see," looking at his memorandum-book; "Friday-week, how will that suit? Mrs. Stapleton Burge's party. O, ah, that's nothing!" he added quickly, growing very red.
"Very well," said Gilbert quietly. "Friday-week, since you've only got Mrs. Stapleton Burge's party; and that's nothing, you say. Friday-week will do. I'm to ask the usual lot, I suppose?"
"Yes, usual lot, and one or two more, don't you think? It was deuced slow last time, I remember. Only old Toshington to talk, and everybody's tired of his old gab29. Ask someone to froth it up a bit, one of those writing-fellows one sees at some houses, or an actor who can mimic31 fellows, and that kind of thing, don't you know?"
"I know," said Gilbert, by no means jumping at the suggestion; "but I generally find that your clever fellows who write are miserable32 unless they have all the talk to themselves; and the actors are insulted if you ask them to do any of their hanky-panky, as though, by Jove, they'd be invited for anything else. However, I'll look up some of them, and do my best. Anybody else?"
"No, I think not. Unless, by the way, you were to ask that man that my aunt's taken up lately--Challoner."
The name brought the blood into Gilbert's face, and he paused a moment before he said: "I don't think I'd have that fellow, Etchingham, if I were you."
"What's the matter with him? Ain't he on the square? Bad egg, and that kind of thing?"
"I know very little about him," said Gilbert, fixing his eyes on Lord Ticehurst's face; "nothing, indeed, for the matter of that; and he's never crossed me, and never will have the opportunity." I said, "if I were you."
"Plainly, then, I've noticed--and I can't imagine how it has failed to escape you--that this man Challoner is making strong running for a lady for whom I have heard you profess34 the greatest admiration--Miss Lambert."
"O, ah, yes--thanks; all right," said Lord Ticehurst, looking more foolish than usual--in itself a stupendous feat35; "well, I ain't spooney particularly on Challoner, so you needn't ask him."
Peers of the realm, and persons known as "public characters," command more civility and attention in England than anyone else. With tradesmen, hotel-waiters, and railway-porters this feeling is so strongly, developed that they will leave any customer to serve a great lord or a popular comedian36. Lord Ticehurst's name stood very high at the Crown and Sceptre at Richmond, not merely because he was an earl--they see plenty of them during the season at the Crown and Sceptre--but because he was free-spoken, lavish38 with his money, and "had no cussed pride about him." Consequently, whenever he dined there the dinner was always good, which is by no means always the case at the C. and S.; and the present occasion was no exception. There were about twenty guests, all men, and nearly all men of one set, who, though they were mostly wellborn and, in the main, tolerably educated, apparently39 never sought for and certainly never attained40 any other society. The outside world was familiar with their names, through seeing them printed in the newspapers as attending the various great race-meetings; and with their personal appearance, through seeing them at Tattersall's and in the Park, especially on Sundays in the season. Some had chambers41 in the Albany, some in smaller and cheaper sets; many of them lived humbly42 enough in one bed-room in the lodging-house-swarming streets round St. James's; all of them haunted Rummer's in Conduit-street; and most of them belonged to some semi-turf, semi-military, whole card-and-billiard-playing club. Some of them were believed to be married, but their wives were never seen with them by any chance; for they never went into society, to the opera or the theatres; and they were always put into the bachelor quarters at country-houses, and into the topmost rooms at the hotels, where they treated the female domestics in a pleasant and genial43 way, a compound of the manners of the groom44 and the commercial bagman.
They gathered in full force at the Crown and Sceptre that lovely July afternoon; for they knew that they would have a good dinner and wine without stint45. Captain Dafter was there--a little wiry man with sandy scraps46 of whisker and a mean little white face, but who was the best amateur steeplechase rider in England, with limbs of steel and dauntless pluck. Next to him sat a fat, heavy-healed, large-jowled man, with a face the shape and colour of an ill-baked quartern loaf; a silent stupid-looking man, who ate and drank enormously, and said, and apparently understood, nothing; but who was no less a personage than the "Great Northern," as he was called, from having been born at Carlisle; the enormous bookmaker and King of the Ring, who began life as a plumber47 with eighteenpence, and was then worth hundreds of thousands. There, too, with his neatly-rolled whiskers and his neatly-tied blue bird's-eye scarf, with its plain solid gold horseshoe pin, was Dolly Clarke, the turf-lawyer. Years ago Dolly would have thought himself lucky if he ever made six hundred a-year. Six thousand is now nearer Dolly's annual income, all brought, about by his own talent, and "not standing6 on any repairs," as he put it, a quality which is to be found in the dictionary under the word "unscrupulousness;" for when old Mr. Snoxell, inventor of the Pilgrim's-Progress Leather for tender feet, died, and left all his money to his son Sam, who had been bred to the law, Sam took Dolly Clarke into partnership48, and by combining shrewdness with bill-discounting and a military connection with a knowledge of turf-matters, they did a splendid business. You would almost mistake Dolly Clarke for a gentleman now, and Samuel Snoxell calls all the army by their Christian49 names. Next to Dolly Clarke was Mr. Bagwax, Q.C., always retained in cases connected with the turf, and rather preferring to be on the shaky and shady side, which affords opportunities for making great fun out of would-be-honest witnesses, and making jokes which, of all the persons in court, are not least understood, by Mr. Justice Martingale, who knows a horse from a wigblock, and is understood to have at one time heard the chimes at midnight. The redoubtable50 Jack Manby, called "the Bustard," because in his thickness of utterance51 he was in the habit of declaring that he "didn't, care about bustard so long as he got beef," was there; and old Sam Roller the trainer, looking something like a bishop52, and something more like Mr. Soapey Sponge's friend, Jack Spraggon; and a tall thin gentlemanly man, who looked like a barrister, and who was "Haruspex," the sporting prophet of the Statesman.. Nor had Gilbert Lloyd forgotten his patron's hint about the enlivening of the company by the representatives of literature and the drama. Mr. Wisbottle, the graphic53 writer, the charming essayist, the sparkling dramatist; Wisbottle, who was always turning up in print when you least expected him; Wisbottle, of whom his brilliant friend and toady54 M'Boswell had remarked that he had never tetigited anything which he hadn't ornavited;--Wisbottle represented literature, and represented it in a very thirsty and talkative, not to say flippant, manner. As the drama's representative, behold55 Mr. Maurice Mendip, a charming young fellow of fifty-five, who, in the old days of patent theatres and great tragedians, would have alternated Marcellus with Bernardo, playing Horatio for his benefit, when his landlady56, friends, and family from Bermondsey came in with tickets sold for his particular behoof, but who, in virtue57 of loud lungs and some faint reminiscence of what he had seen done by his betters, played all the "leading business" in London when he could get the chance, and was the idolised hero of Californian gold-diggers and Australian aborigines. He was, perhaps, a little out of place at such a party, being heavy grave, and taciturn; but most people knew his name, and when told who he was, said, "O, indeed!" and looked at him with that mixture of curiosity, and impertinence with which "public characters" are generally regarded. The other guests were men more or less intimately connected with the turf, who talked to each other in a low grumbling58 monotone, and whose whole desire was to get the better of each other in every possible way.
The dinner, which had called forth59 loud encomiums, was over; the cigars were lighted, and the conversation had been proceeding60 briskly, when in a momentary61 lull62 Dolly Clarke, who had the reputation for being not quite too fond of Gilbert Lloyd, said in a loud voice: "Well, my lord, and after Goodwood comes Brighton, and of course you hope to be as lucky there."
"We've got nothing at Brighton," replied Lord Ticehurst, looking uneasily towards where Gilbert was occupying the vice20-chair.
"Nothing at Brigthton!" echoed Dolly Clarke, very loud indeed; "why, how's that?"
"Because we don't choose, Mr. Clarke," said Gilbert, from the other end of the table--he had been drinking more than his wont63, and there was a strained, flushed look round his eyes quite unusual to him--"because we don't choose; I suppose that's reason enough."
"O, quite," said Dolly Clarke, with a short laugh. "I spoke37 to Lord Ticehurst, by the way; but in your case I suppose it's not an 'untradesmanlike falsehood' if you represent yourself as 'the same concern.' However, you used to go to Brighton, Lloyd."
"Yea," replied Gilbert quickly, "and so used you, when you were Wiggins and Proctor's outdoor clerk at eighteen shillings a-week--by the excursion-train! Times have changed with both of us."
"Lloyd had him there, Jack," whispered Bagwax, Q.C., to his neighbour the Bustard. "Impudent64 customer, Master Clarke! I recollect well when he used to carry a bag and serve writs65, and all that; and now--"
"Hold on a binnit," said the Bustard; "he's an awkward customer is Clarke, and he'll show Gilbert no bercy." And, indeed, there was a look in Mr. Dolly Clarke's ordinarily smiling, self-satisfied face, and a decision in the manner in which his hand had, apparently involuntarily, closed upon the neck of the claret-jug standing in front of him, that augured66 ill for the peace of the party in general, or the personal comfort of Gilbert Lloyd in particular. But old Sam Roller's great spectacles had happened to be turned towards the turf-lawyer at the moment; and the old fellow, seeing how matters stood, had telegraphed to Lord Ticehurst, while Mr. Wisbottle touched Clarke's knee with one hand under the table, and removed the claret-jug from his grasp with the other, whispering, "drop it, dear old boy! What's the good? You kill him, and have to keep out of the way, and lose all the business in Davies-street. He kills you, and what becomes of the policies for the little woman at Roehampton? Listen to the words of Wisbottle the preacher, my chick, and drop it." And it having by this time dawned upon Lord Ticehurst that there was something wrong, that young nobleman cut into the conversation in a very energetic and happy manner, principally dilating67 upon the necessity of his guests drinking as much and as fast as they possibly could. The first part of the proposition seemed highly popular, but certain of the company objected to being hurried with their liquor, and demanded to know the reason of their being thus pressed. Then Lord Ticehurst explained that he was under the necessity of putting in an appearance that night at the house of a very particular friend, where an evening party was being held; that it was an engagement of long-standing, and one which it was impossible for him to get off. This, he added, need be no reason for breaking up their meeting; he should only be too delighted if they would stop as long as they pleased; and he was quite sure that his worthy68 vice would come up to that end of the table, and fill his place much more worthily69 than it had hitherto been filled.
But to this proposition there was a great deal of demur70. Several of the guests, keen men of business, with the remembrance of the morrow's engagements and work before them, and having had quite sufficient wine, were eager to be off. Others, who would have remained drinking so long as any drink was brought, scarcely relished71 their cups under the presidency72 of Gilbert Lloyd, who was regarded by them as anything but a convivialist; while others, again, had engagements in town which they were anxious to fulfil. Moreover, the plan proposed by his patron was anything but acceptable to Gilbert Lloyd himself. Ordinarily almost abstemious73, he had on this occasion taken a great deal of wine, and, though he was by no means intoxicated74, his pulses throbbed75 and his blood was heated in a manner very unusual with him. From the first moment of Ticehurst's mentioning that he was going on this evening to a party at Mrs. Stapleton Burge's house, Gilbert felt convinced, by his friend's manner, that he must have some special attraction there, and that that attraction must be the presence of Gertrude. This thought--the feeling that she would be there, surrounded by courtiers and flatterers--worried and irritated him, and every glass of wine which he swallowed increased his desire to see her that night. What matter if he had been rebuffed! That was simply because he had not had the chance of speaking to her. Give him that opportunity, and she would tell a very different tale. He should have that opportunity if he met her face to face in society; it would be impossible for her, without committing a palpable rudeness--and Gilbert Lloyd knew well that she would never do that--to avoid speaking to him. Chateau76 qui parle est pret de se render.. A true proverb that; and he made up his mind to tell Lord Ticehurst to take him to Mrs. Stapleton Burge's gathering77, and to run his chance with Gertrude.
So that when he heard his patron propound78 that he should remain behind, to fan into a flame the expiring embers of an orgie which, even at its brightest, had afforded him no amusement, his disgust was extreme, and uncomplimentary as they were to himself, he fostered and repeated the excuses which he heard on all sides. Nor did he content himself with passive resistance, but went straight to Lord Ticehurst, and taking him aside, told him that this was, after all, only a "duty dinner;" that all that was necessary had been done, and it was better they should break up then and there. "Moreover," said he, "I've a fancy to go with you to-night. You're always telling me I don't mix enough in what you call society; and as this is the end of the season, and we're not likely to be--well, I was going to say bothered with women's parties for a long time, I don't mind going with you; in fact, I should rather like it. These fellows have done very well, and we can now leave them to shift for themselves." Lord Ticehurst's astonishment79 at this suggestion from his Mentor80 was extreme. "What a queer chap you are, Gil!" he said; "when I've asked you to go to all sorts of houses, first-class, where everything is done in great form and quite correct, you've stood out and fought shy, and all that kind of thing. And now you want to go to old Mother Burge's,--old cat who stuffs her rooms with a lot of people raked up from here and there! 'Pon my soul there's no knowing where to have you, and that's about the size of it!" But in this matter, as in almost every other, the young man gave way to his friend, and the party broke up at once; and Lord Ticehurst and Gilbert Lloyd drove home to Hill-street, dressed themselves, and proceeded to Mrs. Stapleton Barge's reception.
Mrs. Stapleton Burge lived in a very big house in Great Swaffham-street, close out of Park-lane, and though a very little black-faced woman herself, did everything on a very large scale. Her footmen were enormous creatures, prize-fed, big-whiskered, ambrosial81; her chariot was like a family ark; the old English characters in which her name and address were inscribed82 surged all over her big cards. She had a big husband, a fat fair man with a protuberant83 chest, and receding84 forehead, and little eyes, who was a major in some Essex yeomanry, and who was generally mistaken by his guests for the butler. Everybody went to Mrs. Stapleton Burge's; and she, sometimes accompanied by the major, but more frequently without him, went everywhere. Nobody could give a reason for either proceeding. When the Stapleton Barges85 went out of town at the end of the season, nobody knew where they went to. Some people said to the family place in Essex, but Tommy Toshington said that was all humbug86; he'd looked up the county history, and, there wasn't any such place as Fenners; and he, Tommy, thought they either retired87 to the back of the house in Great Swaffham-street, or took lodgings88 at Ramsgate. But the next season they appeared again, as blooming and as big as ever. Lord Ticehurst, in his description of Mrs. Barge's parties, scarcely did that worthy woman justice. People said, and truly, that those gatherings89 were "a little mixed;" but Lady Tintagel took care that some of the very best people in London were seen at them. If Mrs. Burge would have her own friends, that, Lady Tintagel said, was no affair of hers. Mrs. Burge swore by Lady Tintagel, and the major swore at her. "If it wasn't for that confounded woman," he used to say, "we shouldn't be going through all this tomfoolery, but should be living quietly at--" He was never known to complete the sentence. Lady Tintagel was Mrs. Barge's sponsor in the world of fashion, and the major lent money to Lord Tintagel, who was an impecunious90 and elderly nobleman. When Lady Tintagel presided over a stall at an aristocratic fancy-fair for the benefit of a charity, Mrs. Burge furnished the said stall, and took Lady Tintagel's place thereat during the dull portion of the day. Lady Tintagel's celebrated91 tableaux92 vivantswere held in Mrs. Burge's big rooms in Great Swaffham-street, the Tintagel establishment being carried on in a two-roomed house in Mayfair. Mrs. Burge "takes" Lady Tintagel to various places of an evening, when the Tintagel jobbed horses are knocked up, and never has "her ladyship" out of her mouth.
When Lord Ticehurst and Gilbert Lloyd arrived at the hospitable93 mansion94, they found the rooms crowded. It was a great but trying occasion for Mrs. Burge--trying, because it was plainly the farewell fêteof the season; and all the guests were talking to one another of where they were going to, while she, poor woman, had a dreary95 waste of seven months before her, to be passed away from the delights of fashionable life. To how many people did she promise a speedy meeting at Spa, at Baden, in the Highlands, in Midland country-houses? and all her interlocutors placed their tongues in their cheeks, and knew that until the next summons of Parliament drew the town together, and simultaneously96 produced a card of invitation from Mrs. Burge, they should not meet their hostess of the night. Meantime, the success of the present gathering was unimpeachable97. Everybody who was left in London had rallied round Great Swaffham-street; and there was no doubt but that the Morning Postof the coming day would convey to the ends of the civilised world a list of fashionables which would redound98 in the most complete manner to the éclatof Mrs. Stapleton Burge.
The necessary form of introduction had been gone through--scarcely necessary, by the way, in Great Swaffham-street; for the men always averred99 that Mrs. Burge never knew half the people at her own parties--and Lord Ticehurst, having done his duty in landing Gilbert, had strolled away among the other convives, with what object Gilbert well enough knew. He, Gilbert Lloyd, had rather a habit of trusting to chance in matters of this kind; and, on the present occasion, he found that chance befriended him. For while his patron, eager and anxious-eyed, went roaming round the room in hot search for the object of his thoughts, Gilbert, no less anxious, no less determined100, remained quietly near the entrance-door, and narrowly watched each passing face. He knew most of them. A London man of-half-a-dozen seasons can scarcely find a fresh face in any evening party on which he may chance to stumble. We go on in our different sets, speaking to every other person we meet, and familiar with the appearance of all the rest--what freshness and variety! Some of the passers-by raised their eyebrows101 in surprise at seeing Lloyd in such a place; others nodded and smiled, and would have stopped to speak but for the plain noli-me-tangereexpression which he wore. He returned the nods and grins in a half-preoccupied, half-sullen manner, and it was not until he heard Miles Challoner's voice close by him that he seemed thoroughly102 roused. Then he drew back from the door-post, against which he had been leaning, and ensconcing himself behind the broad back of a stout103 old gentleman, his neighbour, saw Gertrude enter the room, on Miles Challoner's arm. They had been dancing; she was flushed and animated104, and looked splendidly handsome, as evidently thought her companion. Her face was upturned to his, and in her eyes was a frank, honest look of love and trust, such a look as Gilbert Lloyd recollected105 to have seen there when he first knew her years ago, but which had soon died out, and had never reappeared until that moment. And it was for Miles Challoner that her spirits had returned, her love and beauty had been renewed; for Miles Challoner, whom he hated with a deadly hate, who had been his rock ahead throughout his life, and who was now robbing him of what indeed he had once thrown aside as valueless, but what he would now give worlds to repossess. Gilbert Lloyd's face, all the features of which were so well trained and kept in such constant subjection, for once betrayed him, and the evil passion gnawing106 at his heart showed itself in his fiery107 eyes, surrounded by a strained hot flush, and in his rigidly108 set mouth. Tommy Toshington, tacking109 about the room to avoid the pressure of the crowd, and coming suddenly round Lloyd's stout neighbour, was horrified110 by the expression in Gilbert's face.
"Why, what's the matter, Lloyd, my boy?" asked the old gentleman; "you look quite ghastly, by Jove! Ellis's claret not disagreed with you, has it?"
"Not a bit of it, Tommy; I'm all right," said Gilbert with an effort; "room's a little hot--perhaps that's made me look a little white."
"Look a little white! Dammy, you looked a little black when I first caught sight of you. You were scowling111 away at somebody; I couldn't make out who."
"Not I," said Gilbert, with an attempt at a laugh; "I was only thinking of something."
"O, shouldn't do that," said Mr. Toshington; "devilish stupid thing thinking; never comes to any good, and makes a fellow look deuced old Lots of people here to-night;" then looking round and sinking his voice, "and rather a mixture, eh? I can't think where some of the people come from; one never sees them anywhere else." And the old gentleman, whose father had been a dissenting112 hatter at Islington, propped113 his double gold-eyeglass on his nose, and surveyed the company with a look of excessive hauteur114..
"See!" he said presently, nudging Gilbert with his elbow; "you reck'lect what I told you, down at the Crystal Palace that day, about Etchingham and Miss What-do-you-call-'em, the singer?--that it wasn't any go for my lord, because there was another fellow cutting in in that quarter--you reck'lect? Well, look here, here they are,--What's-his-name, Chaldecott or something, and the girl."
"I see them," said Lloyd, drawing back.
"All right," said Toshington; "you needn't hide yourself; don't you be afraid, they're much too much taken up with each other to be looking at us. Gad115, she's a devilish pretty girl, that, ain't she, Lloyd? There's a sort of a something about her which--such a deuced good style too, and way of carryin' herself! Gad, as to most of the women now--set of dumpy little brutes116!--might be kitchen-maids, begad!"
"Just look, Toshington, will you? I can't see, for this old fool's shoulder's in the way. Has Challoner left Miss Lambert?"
"Yes, he's stepped aside to speak to Lady Carabas; Miss Lambert is standing by the mantelpiece, and--"
"All right, back in half a-second!" and made straight for the place where Gertrude was standing.
"Now, that's a funny thing!" said old Toshington to himself, as he looked after him. "What does that mean? Is Lloyd making the running for his master, or is that a little commission on his own account? No go either way, I should say; the man in the beard means winning there, and no one else has a chance."
As Gilbert Lloyd crossed the room, Gertrude looked up, and their eyes met. The next instant she looked round for Miles Challoner, but he was still busily engaged in talking to Lady Carabas. Then she saw some other ladies of her acquaintance, seated within a little distance, and she determined on crossing the room to them. But she had scarcely moved a few steps when Gilbert Lloyd was by her side. Gertrude's heart beat rapidly; she scarcely heard the first words of salutation which Gilbert uttered; she looked quickly round and saw that though Miles was still standing by Lady Carabas's chair, his eyes were fixed117 on her and Lloyd. What could she do? What is that her husband says?
"Too much of this fooling! You musthear me now!"
With an attempt at a smile, Gertrude turned to her persecutor118 and said, "Once for all, leave me!"
"I will not," said he, in a low voice, but also with a smile on his face. "You cannot get away from me without exciting the suspicion, or the wonder at least, of the room. How long do you imagine I am going to let this pretty little play proceed? How long am I to look on and see the puppets dallying119?"
"You're carrying this business with too high a hand," said he, emboldened121 by her silence. "You seem to forget that I have a word or two to say in the matter."
"See, Gilbert Lloyd," said Gertrude, still smiling and playing with her fan, "you sought me; not I you. Go now, and--"
"Go!" said Gilbert, who saw Miles Challoner looking hard at them,--"go, that he may come! Go! You give your orders freely! What hold have you on me that I am to obey them?"
"Would you wish me to tell you?"
"Here, then," said Gertrude, beckoning123 him a little closer with her fan, then whispering behind it. But one short sentence, a very few words, but, hearing them, Gilbert Lloyd turned death-white, and felt the room reel round before him. In an instant he recovered sufficiently124 to make a bow, and to leave the room and the house. When he got out into the street, the fresh air revived him; he leaned for a moment against some railings to collect his thoughts; and as he moved off, he said aloud, "He did suspect it, then; and he told her!"
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attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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exult
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| v.狂喜，欢腾；欢欣鼓舞 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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initiation
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displeased
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standing
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sullen
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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insolence
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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admiration
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enraged
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placid
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temperament
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transacting
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| v.办理（业务等）( transact的现在分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
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uncommon
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luncheon
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annoyances
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| n.恼怒( annoyance的名词复数 )；烦恼；打扰；使人烦恼的事 | |
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19
renovated
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| 翻新，修复，整修( renovate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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21
moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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22
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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23
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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24
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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25
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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26
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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27
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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28
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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29
gab
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| v.空谈，唠叨，瞎扯；n.饶舌，多嘴，爱说话 | |
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30
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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31
mimic
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| v.模仿，戏弄；n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
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32
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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33
riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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34
profess
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| v.声称，冒称，以...为业，正式接受入教，表明信仰 | |
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35
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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36
comedian
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| n.喜剧演员；滑稽演员 | |
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37
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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38
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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39
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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40
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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41
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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42
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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43
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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44
groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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45
stint
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| v.节省，限制，停止；n.舍不得化，节约，限制；连续不断的一段时间从事某件事 | |
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46
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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47
plumber
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| n.(装修水管的)管子工 | |
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48
partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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49
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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50
redoubtable
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| adj.可敬的；可怕的 | |
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51
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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52
bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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53
graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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54
toady
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| v.奉承；n.谄媚者，马屁精 | |
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55
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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56
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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57
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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58
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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59
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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60
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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61
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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62
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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63
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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64
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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65
writs
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| n.书面命令，令状( writ的名词复数 ) | |
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66
augured
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| v.预示，预兆，预言( augur的过去式和过去分词 )；成为预兆；占卜 | |
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67
dilating
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| v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的现在分词 ) | |
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68
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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69
worthily
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| 重要地，可敬地，正当地 | |
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70
demur
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| v．表示异议，反对 | |
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71
relished
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| v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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72
presidency
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| n.总统(校长，总经理)的职位(任期) | |
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73
abstemious
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| adj.有节制的，节俭的 | |
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74
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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75
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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76
chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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77
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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78
propound
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| v.提出 | |
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79
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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80
mentor
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| n.指导者，良师益友；v.指导 | |
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81
ambrosial
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| adj.美味的 | |
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82
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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83
protuberant
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| adj.突出的，隆起的 | |
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84
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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85
barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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86
humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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87
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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88
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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89
gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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90
impecunious
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| adj.不名一文的，贫穷的 | |
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91
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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92
tableaux
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| n.舞台造型，（由活人扮演的）静态画面、场面；人构成的画面或场景( tableau的名词复数 )；舞台造型；戏剧性的场面；绚丽的场景 | |
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93
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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94
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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95
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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96
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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97
unimpeachable
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| adj.无可指责的；adv.无可怀疑地 | |
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98
redound
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| v.有助于；提；报应 | |
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99
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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100
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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101
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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102
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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104
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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105
recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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106
gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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107
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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108
rigidly
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| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
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109
tacking
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| （帆船）抢风行驶，定位焊[铆]紧钉 | |
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110
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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111
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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112
dissenting
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| adj.不同意的 | |
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113
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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114
hauteur
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| n.傲慢 | |
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115
gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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116
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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117
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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118
persecutor
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| n. 迫害者 | |
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119
dallying
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| v.随随便便地对待( dally的现在分词 )；不很认真地考虑；浪费时间；调情 | |
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120
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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121
emboldened
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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122
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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123
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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124
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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