The "grand passion" (it is unfortunate that no single word in the English language exactly pictures that emotional process) was a little beyond Caroline Staley's philosophy.
Yet within twelve hours of Aliette's interview with Hector, even Caroline Staley realized that "Miss Aliette was about through with that husband of hers." Lennard and the rest of the staff--though Caroline refused to gossip--were also aware, basement-wise, of the connubial1 position. In fact, at Lancaster Gate, only Mollie remained in ignorance.
For, at the moment, Mollie Fullerford was far too absorbed to bother herself overlong about either sister or brother-in-law; a sublime3 selfishness held her aloof4 from both.
The girl's mind was concentrated on Jimmy. It had become a point of honor with her not to think of anybody except Jimmy. Jimmy--for his own sake--must be neither "fascinated" nor "put off." He must be given his exact measure of attraction as of repulsion, his exact chance of finding out her faults as well as her virtues6. Then, when he had definitely fallen in or out of love with the real her--she would decide exactly how much she could love the real him. "Marriage," the girl said to herself, "is a pretty serious business. Jimmy and I mustn't make any mistake about it."
Mollie Fullerford, you see, was of the modern young, who are trying, vainly, to avoid the troubles of their romantic and unreasoning elders--such troubles, for instance, as Hector's.
Hector, reticent7 always, confided8 his troubles to nobody. He spent the first twelve hours after the quarrel in kicking himself for a fool and a savage10 who had nearly thrashed his wife; the next twelve in cursing himself for a fool and a softy who ought to have thrashed his wife--and the rest of the week fighting against the impulse to apologize.
Meanwhile he was a stranger in his own house; excluded, as surely as though he had been a servant under notice, from domestic conversation. His wife had taken to breakfasting in bed (the rattle11 of the tray infuriated him every morning), and refused to get up till he had left the house: he, retorting in the only way open to him, dined at his clubs. On the one occasion when they did meet, her manners were beyond criticism--and her unattainable beauty a positive bar to any plans for sex-consolation.
As a matter of psychological fact, both husband and wife were in a momentary12 state of complete sex-revulsion. Hector, thwarted13 of his one desire, seeing Aliette unobtainable as the only woman in the world; and Aliette--love's dream obscured by thought of love's material consequences--regarding herself, for the nonce, as the mere14 quarry15 of two males, a quarry anxious only to escape both pursuers.
Twice, at least, Aliette's thoughts renounced16 womanhood completely. The physical Hector, the Hector of the writhing17 lips, she hated; but when her yearning18 for the physical Ronnie grew so desperately19 acute that she had to rush out of the library lest she should telephone to him; when every post which brought no letter seemed the last bodily hurt she could endure: then, looking back on her lost virginity of temperament20, she could be amazingly sorry for, amazingly grateful to the abstemious21 Hector of the last three years.
Yet all the time, she knew subconsciously22 that she loved Ronnie; that, without him, life was one mazed23 loneliness.
Aliette, like Hector, kept her own counsel. Mary O'Riordan, to whom--as in duty bound--she confided a hint of her distress24, pumped her for full confession25, but pumped in vain. Only Ponto, the huge harlequin Dane with the magpie26 coat and the princely manners, shared her mazed loneliness. She used to fetch the dog, every after-lunch-time, from the garage in Westbourne Street where he had his abode27; and wander with him by the hour together through Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. Ponto, unlike her other pursuers, desired nothing but an occasional caress28. He would pad and pad after her, close to heel, disdainful of all distractions29, his eyes on the hem30 of her skirt, his stern slapping only the mildest disapproval31 of an occasional fly. And when she sat her down to meditate32, the beast--as though conscious of the fret33 in his mistress--would content affection with the rare up-thrust of an enormous consolatory34 paw.
Vaguely35 during that week Ponto's mistress conceived the scheme of sending to Moor36 Park for Miracle, of condescending37 to ride in the Row. Dumb animals, of a sudden, seemed so much wiser, so much kinder than men. But to ride in the Row would make one conspicuous38, and instinct warned her that the less conspicuous she made herself during the season, the easier things might be--in the event of a social crash.
2
One other woman in London--during the days which followed Aliette's definite break with Hector--was meditating39 the probabilities of a social crash.
"Julia," said Dot Fancourt, dropping in to lunch on Friday, "you're not looking so well. You ought to see Baynet again. You've nothing on your mind, have you?"
"My dear Dot," retorted the novelist, smiling, "I'm quite well, and I have nothing on what you are pleased to call my mind--except the vulgarity of your methods in booming my divorce article."
But after Dot had gone back to his office, Julia Cavendish's face lost its smile.
Surveyed in cool retrospect40, her momentary thought-panic in Hyde Park appeared a mere firework of the literary imagination. Nevertheless, ever since Sunday, when she had tried, over dinner, to let him inkle her knowledge, to warn him, she had been reproaching herself about Ronnie. Other mothers--her own sister Clementina among them--did not apparently41 find it at all difficult to discuss sex matters with their sons. Yet she, the celebrated42 psychologist, had found it impossible.
"If only I could have been open with him," she thought, "if only I could have said: 'I'm afraid that you've fallen in love with that charming Mrs. Brunton. You won't let it go too far--will you? Women's heads are so easily turned.'"
She would not, of course, have said more than that. Ronnie was so sensible, so straight and clean, that he would have needed no further warning. Ronnie--her Ronnie--did not in the least resemble the heroes of her novels, the passionate43 men with cleft44 chins who occasionally counted the world well lost for love. Ronnie was the very spit of his father, the Oxford45 don.
Still even dons were human. And Ronnie, unwarned, might have lost his head.
As for the woman--women, according to Julia Cavendish, could always fall prey46 to the sentimental47 impulse. If only a man were sufficiently48 ardent49 the entire sex yielded to him. Why should this Mrs. Brunton be the exception? Ronnie--her Ronnie--must be terribly attractive. Therefore----
And quite suddenly, Julia panicked again. Her literary imagination saw the worst; Aliette in Ronnie's arms, Ronnie in the divorce court. Her heart went cold at the imaginary prospect50. The mother, the religious woman, and the Victorian in her were alike appalled51.
Jealousy52 spread a yellow jaundice film over her intellect. Seen through that film, the "charming Mrs. Brunton" became a harpy, an over-dressed, over-scented, over-manicured harpy, her unguented claws sharp for an innocent boy.
Whereupon Julia Cavendish--turning, as most literary people in a crisis, to her pen--began the composition of a letter which should convey, tactfully, of course, the picture of the harpy to the mind of the boy. But the letter, completed, read so much more like a piece of fiction than a statement of fact, that she tore it up; and contented53 herself with the usual note ordering him to dinner on Saturday.
3
The note itself contained nothing to alarm Ronnie; and yet, dressing54 to obey its commands in his severe mannish bedroom, he felt nervous about the coming interview. For five days now he had been on edge; sleepless55, unable to concentrate thought.
Every night he had expected that Aliette would telephone; every morning, every evening, he had expected a letter from her. It never dawned on his mind that she should be equally on edge, equally expectant. Since she had admitted her love, asking only that he should not hurry her, chivalry56 forbade the obvious course which his impatient manhood dictated--attack. Chivalry, too, urged him not to make any final move before weighing the uttermost consequences.
For himself, he had already weighed them; and they weighed light enough. But for her, even though a man and a woman decided57 their love justified58 before God and the law, remained always their justification59 before their fellow-creatures. Under any circumstances, the consequences would include a divorce. And even the farcical divorce of the period carried--for a woman in Aliette's position--its stigma60. Ronnie remembered the Carrington case. Suppose Brunton cut up rough; perjured61 himself in court as Carrington had done--purely for spite. In an undefended divorce case, the man and woman cited could not defend themselves against a perjurer62 without risking their freedom.
And then, then--there was Julia to consider.
The mind of the clean-shaven man who let himself out of the dark-green door of 127b Jermyn Street, and strode rapidly across Piccadilly, may be compared to the hair-trigger of a cocked pistol.
4
"Your mother is already in the dining-room, Mr. Ronald," said the uniformed parlormaid, who had valeted him while he was still at Winchester.
"Thank you, Kate." Ronnie handed the woman his hat and strode in.
Julia stood by the be-ferned fireplace, inspecting a newly-acquired print, only that afternoon hung. Kissing him, she called his attention to the treasure.
"It's 'The Match-Seller'--a proof before letters. Only two more to find, and my collection of 'The Cries of London' will be complete."
They talked prints, engravings and china throughout dinner. Julia, acting63 on Sir Heron Baynet's advice, ate sparingly, and drank nothing stronger than Evian water; but for her son she had ordered a miniature feast--all the particular foods of his particular boyhood--and the last bottle of his father's Chambertin.
Usually, when she prepared such a feast, Ronnie would compliment her on her memory, her forethought; but to-night he seemed scarcely aware of what he ate. She had to coax64 him: "Turbot, dear, your favorite fish," or, "I remembered the sauce Béarnaise, you see."
Coaxed65, he complimented her; but without enthusiasm--so that, hurt, she said to herself: "He's giving me only half his mind. He's thinking of that woman. I'm certain he'd rather be dining her at Claridge's"--(Julia's heroes often "dined" their discreetly66 illicit67 passions at the more expensive caravanserais)--"than sitting here with his old mother."
Meanwhile he said to himself, "She's taken so much trouble over this little dinner. I ought to be more grateful. Dash it, I am grateful! Good Lord, it's nearly nine o'clock! The last post will be in soon. Perhaps there'll be a letter. Perhaps Aliette will telephone to-night. I must get away by ten."
Resultantly, by the time Kate brought coffee and cigarettes, the moment for confidences was as unpropitious as any Julia Cavendish could possibly have chosen.
"Ronnie," she, began, as soon as they were alone, "I hope you won't be angry at what I'm going to say."
The opening, so entirely68 foreign to her usual abruptness69, made Ronnie--on the instant--suspicious. The Wixton imagination in him said: "Danger! She's found out. She knows something about Aliette. She may know about Aliette's having been to your rooms." And immediately the magisterial70 Cavendish in him decided: "I shall refuse to be drawn71. It's not her business. Even if she does know, she ought to have waited till I thought fit to broach72 the subject."
Nevertheless, the ghost of the schoolboy who had liked sauce Béarnaise and been vaguely frightened of his mother was in a funk. The ghost of the schoolboy, looking at his mother's determined73 chin, did not see the unhappiness behind his mother's blue eyes.
After a second's hesitation74, the magisterial Cavendish laughed.
"It depends on what you are going to say, mater."
"It isn't much." Julia braced75 herself to the unpleasant task. "Perhaps it isn't anything at all. But I feel that you're keeping something from me. Something rather--important. Something that's making you unhappy. Can't you confide9 in me? I might be able to help. We've never had any secrets from each other, you and I."
Kate, coming in to clear the table, was shooed away with a calm "We haven't quite finished our coffee. I'll ring when I want you."
"We oughtn't to have secrets from one another," went on Julia diffidently.
Her son, stiff-lipped, uncompromising, made no answer; and she continued, a little afraid:
"You told me about Lucy. Can't you tell me about this--love affair?"
The tone irritated him.
"My dear mater, what love affair?"
"Flirtation76, then?" Fleetingly77, her suspicions lulled78 by his presence, she thought how ridiculous it was of him to be so stubborn. Dot Fancourt, Paul Flower, and many other of the literary among her acquaintances rather liked talking about their flirtations. Then his very stubbornness perturbed79 her.
"Ronnie," she said, "be open with me. You are in love?"
"What if I am?" He had never lied to her, and had no intention of doing so now. Apparently she did not know about Aliette's having been to Jermyn Street; otherwise--reticence with him not being one of her characteristics--she would have said so. Obviously, though, she suspected quite enough!
"What if I am?" he repeated.
"Yes. I do mean that. I don't want to be unkind, or unfair. But you must see that I can't discuss--that sort of thing with you."
"Why not?" Thoroughly81 alarmed now, she tried to hide alarm with a smile. "Lots of people do confide in me. I--you know I wouldn't betray your confidence."
"Is that quite the point?"
Julia Cavendish deigned82 to plead: "I've been so worried, Ronnie. I feel, somehow, that you're in trouble. I feel I understand why. And I only want you to let me help you."
His mood softened83. "Poor old mater," he thought. But her next words dispelled84 softness; irritated him again.
"You see," she said, "you're still so young. Only a boy really. You don't know the world as I know it. You mustn't reject my advice."
"I'm thirty-six," he parried.
"And I'm over sixty."
"You don't look it, mater."
She felt herself being edged away from her topic. She saw a vision of Aliette Brunton--standing palpably between herself and her son. Vague jealousy clouded her love, her kindness.
"You don't deny the correctness of my statement," she shot at him. "You admit that you are in love?"
"Suppose I admit that much----" His lean face flushed.
"Then the least you can do is to tell me with whom. You say you don't want to be unkind or unfair. Is it fair, or kind, to let me"--Julia hesitated over the word--"suspect things?"
He said bluntly, "There is nothing to suspect."
She said with equal bluntness, "Then why am I not to be told?"
Ronnie's temper rose. He, too, saw a vision of Aliette, palpably demanding his protection.
"Because there's nothing to tell."
"Ronnie, that's not the truth." The words burst from her. "You've never lied to me before. Why can't you tell me the truth now? Ever since Sunday, I've known----"
"Known what?"
Her heart dropped a beat at his obvious anger. It was as though she already knew the worst. Love and jealousy, strangely commingling85 in her ego86, ousted--for one flash of a second--all other emotions. So that it might have been an adoring wife rather than a religious mother who answered.
"That you and Mrs. Brunton were in love with each other."
"So she knew all the time," thought Ronnie. His first feeling was relief. At least the mater knew nothing of what had happened since Sunday. Only her uncanny intuition had led her to the truth. Then fear--no longer fear for himself, but fear for Aliette--keyed his legal brain to defense87.
"You have no right to make that statement. Where's your proof, your evidence?"
She looked him full in the face; noted88 the blood at his temples, the working nostrils89, the angry sparks in his light blue eyes. The effort to stand up against his obstinacy90 wrenched91 her in pieces. Her knees, her very stomach trembled. The known room, the beloved things, seemed suddenly worthless. She felt self-reproachfully that she had loved things too much, her son too little. She could have cried, then and there--she who had never let the tears to her eyes.
"Ronnie," she pleaded, "why must you be so hard, so hostile? Mothers don't need 'evidence.' At least, I don't. Not where you are concerned. You said just now that this--this affair was none of my business. Isn't it a mother's business to protect her child, to save him? Would it have been fair for me not to have spoken? It isn't as if you couldn't trust me----"
She broke off; and fear faded from the mind of her son. He was no longer even angry. Once again he saw in Julia the "lonely old woman," dependent solely92 on his affection; saw her--very radiant down the years--fetching him, still a child, from his "Dame's School" in Welbeck Street; saw her visiting him at Winchester, at the Varsity. Always, she had been the confidante, the rather stern confidante, of his troubles. Surely, surely when she knew the fineness of Aliette, when she knew how Aliette had refused to let him hurt her, she would help him, help both of them?
"Of course I trust you. It isn't that. And if--if we'd decided anything definitely, I'd tell you about it. But, as things are, I can't tell you anything. You see that, don't you?"
"No. I don't," said Julia sternly--the mother, the religious woman and the traditionalist in her alike roused to bay by the sudden frankness. "It seems to me that, having admitted so much, you owe me the rest."
"But it wouldn't be fair----"
"I can't see why. Unless--unless there's something you--you're both afraid of my knowing."
"Mater!" All the chivalry in him, revolting at the slur93 on Aliette, urged full confession. "You've spoken with her. You can't possibly imagine that she's the sort of woman who----"
Indignation dumbed him; and in his moment of dumbness the mother realized her mistake, realized him in that hair-trigger state of emotion when the slightest touch will loose the explosion; realized that he and Aliette were on the verge94 of disaster, that Aliette was the wife of a king's counselor95, that she, Julia, must cut out her tongue rather than say the word which would decide her son to wreck96 his career. But realization97 came too late.
"You don't imagine that she--that we would do anything underhand," burst out the boy in Ronnie.
"Of course not, dear." Almost Julia had it in her to hate the woman's virtue5. To love in secret was certainly a sin before God; but to commit open adultery was a sin before both God and what remained of English Society.
"Another man's wife?"
She wanted to say, "You believe that?"; but instinct restrained her. She grew frightened at the passion in Ronnie's eyes. He talked on--vehemently. "I can't live without her. I won't. Why should I? What's a divorce nowadays? Who cares? Except a few snuffy old priests. And half of them don't know their own minds."
"Ronnie!" She conjured100 up every atom of force in her to wrestle101 with his vehemence102. "What's happened to you? divorce means scandal. It means sin. But I won't talk about the religious part. One either believes or one doesn't. I only beg of you, I implore103 you, to think of your career----"
"Who cares about my career----"
"I do."
"My career won't suffer----"
"It will. You'll be disbarred. Brunton's a power. You'll have him for enemy instead of for friend. You'll make a thousand enemies. The snuffy old priests, as you call them, aren't the only ones who care about divorce. Half the houses I visit will be closed to you."
"For six months."
"No. For good. And you'll never be able to go into politics."
"Politics!" scornfully.
"People will cut you."
"Let them." Opposition104, clarifying his mind, keyed him to fight. "Let them! What do I care? We sha'n't have done anything wrong."
"It's always wrong to set ourselves up against the world."
One of the dinner-table candles guttered107 and went out. To Julia, it seemed like an omen2. She saw her son's career gutter108 out in that curling smoke; saw him entrapped109 by the powers of darkness, prey to the personal devil. Now no one except God, her own particular secular110 god, could help. She prayed voicelessly to that particular secular god for words to save the entrapped soul of her boy.
"Ronnie! You've always been so good, the best of sons. You've never given me a moment's anxiety--never--since the day you were born. Until now! And you've always trusted me. Won't you trust me in this? Won't you believe me when I tell you that the thing you contemplate111 is a sin?"
Quietly, he answered, "If God is love, how can love be a sin?"
The phrase shot a tiny sliver112 of doubt through the armor of Julia Cavendish's belief, pricking113 her unwisdom to retort:
"Love! Love isn't passion. Love is service. If you loved her, really and truly loved her, you'd save this woman from herself. And if she loved you, really and truly loved you, she'd be the last person in the world----"
He wanted to argue: "You don't understand. You're too prejudiced to understand." Instead, comprehending abruptly114 how far his confidences had outrun actuality, he blustered115:
"We won't discuss her motives117, please. Or mine. Neither of us is a child--as you seem to think. We're quite capable of deciding things for ourselves. When we do----"
"She hasn't consented then?" Julia grasped at the life-buoy.
"No."
Another doubt entered like a dart118 into the mother's mind. Suppose Sir Heron's warnings came true? Then soon there might be nobody to care for Ronnie. Suppose, suppose this woman really did care--as she, Julia, cared? A woman in Mrs. Brunton's position would hardly risk divorce for a béguin.
Nervously119 she played with her favorite ring--a diamond-set miniature of her son in earliest boyhood. Nervously she said: "You won't do things in a hurry. Promise me that."
"I can't promise anything," He blustered again, feeling that she was trying to fetter120 his independence. "I'd rather not discuss the subject any more."
"Very well. It shall be as you wish. We'll say no more about this matter. It's been very painful to me, and I can only hope it won't be still more painful--to both of us--before it's over."
His irritated dignity answered hers. "Why to both of us? It's entirely my affair."
"Not entirely. I've tried to keep myself out of this question; but, as your mother, I have certain claims. And you know, or at least you ought to know, my feelings on the subject of divorce. I ask you to believe that I'm trying to sympathize with you, to see your point of view. But I can't. To me, any union, however legalized, between you and Hector Brunton's wife, means deadly sin. You call this passion of yours love. I don't. I call it by an uglier name." His eyes kindled121. "That angers you. I'm sorry. But I'm speaking the truth, as I see it. If you and she decide to commit this deadly sin, don't come to me for forgiveness."
Julia rose, weary with words, to her feet. "Shall we go upstairs to the drawing-room? Kate will be waiting to clear the table."
"Not for a moment." Ronnie, too, rose. "What do you mean, exactly, when you say, 'Don't come to me for forgiveness'?"
"What do I mean?" Sheer physical fatigue122 unnerved Julia's mind. Jealousy, the mad mother jealousy for the mate which her brain had been holding in leash123 all evening, broke its bonds; so that she saw her only son, the baby she had cherished from his cradle, lost to her in another woman's arms. White arms--young and smooth and sinful! "What do I mean? Only this--that you must choose between your mother and your--mistress."
Even as that last word escaped the barrier of her teeth, Julia Cavendish knew the mistake irretrievable. Her dignity flickered124 out like a match in a storm. She wanted to throw herself on his mercy, to beg his pardon with bended knees. But the word, the unpardonable insult of a word, was out. Slowly, she saw his mind grip its full significance. Then his face paled to harsh granite125; and his eyes, for once in their lives, grew sterner than her own.
"I have chosen," said Ronald Cavendish.
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1
connubial
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| adj.婚姻的，夫妇的 | |
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omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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7
reticent
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| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
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8
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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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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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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thwarted
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| 阻挠( thwart的过去式和过去分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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renounced
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| v.声明放弃( renounce的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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abstemious
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| adj.有节制的，节俭的 | |
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subconsciously
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| ad.下意识地，潜意识地 | |
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mazed
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| 迷惘的，困惑的 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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magpie
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| n.喜欢收藏物品的人，喜鹊，饶舌者 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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distractions
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| n.使人分心的事[人]( distraction的名词复数 )；娱乐，消遣；心烦意乱；精神错乱 | |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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32
meditate
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| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
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33
fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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34
consolatory
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| adj.慰问的，可藉慰的 | |
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35
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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36
moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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37
condescending
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| adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
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38
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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39
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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40
retrospect
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| n.回顾，追溯；v.回顾，回想，追溯 | |
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41
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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42
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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43
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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44
cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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45
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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46
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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47
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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48
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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49
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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50
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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51
appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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52
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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53
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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54
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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55
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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56
chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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57
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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58
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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59
justification
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| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
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60
stigma
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| n.耻辱，污名；(花的)柱头 | |
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61
perjured
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| adj.伪证的，犯伪证罪的v.发假誓，作伪证( perjure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
perjurer
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| n.伪誓者，伪证者 | |
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63
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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64
coax
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| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
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65
coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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66
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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67
illicit
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| adj.非法的，禁止的，不正当的 | |
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68
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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69
abruptness
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| n. 突然，唐突 | |
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70
magisterial
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| adj.威风的，有权威的；adv.威严地 | |
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71
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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72
broach
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| v.开瓶，提出(题目) | |
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73
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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74
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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75
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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76
flirtation
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| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
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77
fleetingly
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| adv.飞快地，疾驰地 | |
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78
lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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79
perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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81
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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82
deigned
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83
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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84
dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
commingling
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| v.混合，掺和，合并( commingle的现在分词 ) | |
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86
ego
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| n.自我，自己，自尊 | |
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87
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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88
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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89
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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90
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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91
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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92
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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93
slur
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| v.含糊地说；诋毁；连唱；n.诋毁；含糊的发音 | |
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94
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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95
counselor
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| n.顾问，法律顾问 | |
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96
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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97
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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98
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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99
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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100
conjured
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| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
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101
wrestle
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| vi.摔跤，角力；搏斗；全力对付 | |
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102
vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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103
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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104
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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105
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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106
blasphemy
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| n.亵渎，渎神 | |
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107
guttered
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| vt.形成沟或槽于…（gutter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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108
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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109
entrapped
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| v.使陷入圈套，使入陷阱( entrap的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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110
secular
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| n.牧师，凡人；adj.世俗的，现世的，不朽的 | |
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111
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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112
sliver
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| n.裂片，细片，梳毛；v.纵切，切成长片，剖开 | |
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113
pricking
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| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
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114
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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115
blustered
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| v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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116
bluster
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| v.猛刮；怒冲冲的说；n.吓唬，怒号；狂风声 | |
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117
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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118
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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119
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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120
fetter
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| n./vt.脚镣，束缚 | |
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121
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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122
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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123
leash
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| n.牵狗的皮带，束缚；v.用皮带系住 | |
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124
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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125
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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