Ever since the contretemps at Patrick O'Riordan's first-night--although his sense of family solidarity1 would have given much to admit his eldest2 son entirely3 in the right--Rear-Admiral Billy's sense of chivalry4 had been troubling him. From whatever angle he considered Hector's conduct, the cruelty of it was apparent. Moreover, he and Aliette had always been "jolly good pals," and he hated "parting brass-rags with the little woman" who, all said and done, had been perfectly5 "aboveboard."
Nor was it only this "aboveboardness" on the part of his daughter-in-law which worried the admiral, but the knowledge, acquired quite fortuitously, and therefore relegated6 to the background of his memory, of his son's first infidelity to her.
Always a religious man, though never a formal religionist, Rear-Admiral Billy worshiped a god of his own in his own way. But this god--a peculiar7 combination of the laws of cricket, navy discipline, family feeling, and sheer sentimentalism--found in Julia Cavendish's short, carefully worded note so insoluble a problem that within half an hour of its arrival the admiral sent his stable-boy on a bicycle to summon Adrian.
Adrian mounted his cock-throppled nag10 and rode over to Moor11 Park. Said Adrian, who knew his father better than most sons: "Naturally, sir, you won't go?"
Whereupon Adrian's father, after damning the episcopalian eyes for narrow-minded bigotry12, dashed off a characteristic scrawl13 to say that, he "would take pleasure in calling on Mrs. Cavendish on the following Monday, December 30, at 3:30 P.M."
2
It was exactly twenty-five years since "the young Mrs. Cavendish," whose second novel had already laid the foundation-stone of her literary reputation, danced the old-fashioned waltz with Commander Brunton of her Majesty's China Squadron, newly returned from foreign service; but the pleasant bygone meeting came back clearly to Julia's mind as she rose from her sofa to welcome the bearded figure in the cutaway coat and sponge-bag trousers.
This present meeting, both felt, was not going to be pleasant. On the contrary, it was going to be very awkward: its purpose presenting a social stile over which even their good breeding and the similarity of their castes must inevitably14 stumble.
However, after a good deal of finesse15 on Julia's part, and various high-falutin compliments from her visitor, the admiral managed to stumble over it first, with a gallant17:
"Mrs. Cavendish, I fancy I've a pretty shrewd idea why you sent for me."
"It's nice of you to come to the point, admiral," said an equally gallant Julia; and then, taking opportunity by the forelock, "Your son isn't behaving very well, is he?"
The father in Rear-Admiral Billy bristled18. "He's behaving within his rights. Your son hasn't behaved over-well, either."
"If you think that," the mother in Julia met brusquerie with brusquerie, "why did you come and see me?"
The sailor in Rear-Admiral Billy cuddled his beard. "Damned if I know why I came," he ejaculated. "We can't do anything, either of us. Young people are the very deuce. I don't know what your son's like, but mine's as obstinate19 as a mule20."
"You've spoken to your son then?" The novelist in Julia could not restrain a smile at her opponent's incapacity as a diplomat22.
"Spoken to him? Of course I've spoken to him. I've done nothing else but speak to him." The sailor waxed confidential23. "But what's the use? Sons don't care a cuss about their fathers nowadays, nor about their mothers, either."
"I'm sure mine does."
"Don't you believe it. None of 'em care about their parents. They call us 'Victorians'--whatever that may mean. Ungrateful young puppies!"
Seeing her man mollified and disposed for confidences, Julia thought it best to let him "return to his muttons" in his own way.
"Nice little woman, Aliette," he said, apropos24 of nothing in particular. "Not like these up-to-date hussies."
"A charming woman, I call her."
"Pity her kicking over the traces like this."
"You're sorry for her, then?"
"Sorry for her? Of course I'm sorry for her. I'm sorry for any woman who makes a hash of things. But that"--the disciplinarian, finding that the luxurious25 room and the pleasant creature on the sofa were both affecting his judgment26, momentarily revolted--"that don't alter facts. Marriage is marriage; and if your son runs away with my son's wife, you can't expect me to sympathize with either of 'em."
"But surely," Julia nearly purred, "surely, my dear admiral--sympathy apart--your son doesn't intend----"
"My dear lady,"--the disciplinarian in Billy subsided--"if I only knew what my son did intend, I might be able to help you. Whenever I try to talk to him about this business, he just shuts me up. What has your son got to say?"
And suddenly both of them began to laugh. Old age, the greatest tie in the world, made them for the moment peculiarly comrades. In the light of that comradeship, the young, even their own young, seemed less pathetic than to be envied. "After all," they thought, "it's all very sad; but it's worse for us than for them. They do get some fun out of these affairs. We don't. We only get the trouble; and we're too old for troubles."
"It isn't so much the scandal I mind," broke in the admiral, voicing their mutual27 idea; "it's the damned upset of the whole business. I like a quiet life, you know. And that seems the one thing one simply can't get nowadays. Not for love nor money."
For fully9 ten minutes they wandered away from the purpose in hand; discussing first their own era, then his profession, then her profession.
"Talking about books," said the admiral, "give me Surtees."
Truth to tell, the pair were rather enjoying themselves. Both belonged to the conversational28 school of an earlier day; and the flow of conversation was so satisfactory that--finally--it needed all Julia's strength of will, all her love for her son, to interpolate a crisp, "We don't seem to have come to any decision. You will try and do something, won't you, admiral?"
The sailor interrupted himself sufficiently29 to manage a courteous30, "But, my dear lady, what can I do?"
"Couldn't you talk to your son again? Couldn't you tell him that he's doing himself just as much harm as he's doing his wife?"
"I have told him that. He says he doesn't care."
"And your other son? You have another son, haven't you, a clergyman?"
"Oh, Adrian! Adrian's no good to us. Hector doesn't like him. Still,"--after all, thought the admiral, one really ought to do something for a woman who lived in Bruton Street--"I might get him to talk to Hector. I might even have another talk with Hector myself. But I'm afraid it'll be quite useless. You see, Mrs. Cavendish, neither of my sons is a man of the world. That's the whole trouble. Alie isn't a woman of the world, either. Between men and women of the world, these situations don't occur. At least, they didn't in our day. Not often."
"I rather agree with you. Still, we have to take life as we find it."
"Exactly, exactly." The old man waved a hairy-backed hand. "Nobody can say that I'm old-fashioned. Divorce don't mean what it did in my young days. And besides--I'm devilish fond of little Alie."
"Then I can rely upon your help?" smiled Ronnie's mother.
"Absolutely, dear lady, absolutely."
Ringing the bell for Kate to see her guest out, Julia Cavendish felt that she had at last found an ally; but the feeling was tinged32 with apprehension--reticence, she gathered, not being the admiral's strong point.
3
The admiral, making his way up Bruton Street, and along Berkeley Street toward his club, felt not only apprehensive33 but a trifle foolish. He had intended to be so very much on his dignity, so very much on his guard. Instead of which----
"That's a damn clever woman," he said to himself, half in admiration34, half in annoyance35. "An infernally clever woman. Wormed everything out of me, she did, just as if I'd been an innocent snotty. Not that I ever met an innocent snotty. Confound it, I've let myself in for something this trip. Have another talk with Hector! Made me promise that, she did."
For frankly36, the admiral funked the idea of having another talk with Hector. One never knew how to tackle Hector. "Hector was such a damned unreasonable37 dumb-faced puppy!"
Cruising along Piccadilly, a mid-Victorian figure in the inevitable38 top-hat, with the inevitable white spats39 and the inevitable malacca cane40, the admiral wondered whether he hadn't better get Simeon to tackle Hector, Adrian to tackle Hector, any one other than himself to tackle Hector--and so wondering, nearly rammed41 Hector's wife.
The meeting, completely unexpected, entirely unavoidable, flurried the parties. But the sailor recovered his wits first; and Aliette, wavering between the impulse to pass on without bowing and the desire to smile and fly, knew herself cornered. Automatically she extended a hand, which her father-in-law squeezed in a firm clasp.
"Nowhere in particular," answered Aliette shyly.
"Then you can walk me as far as the club." He took her arm and steered43 her masterfully along the pavement. It flashed across his mind, "Bless her heart, she didn't want to recognize me. After all, she is a lady. She is one of us."
"Quaint--our meeting this afternoon," he volunteered aloud.
"Why this afternoon, Billy?"
Billy thought, guiltily, "Perhaps I oughtn't to tell her," but the words were out of his mouth before thought could restrain them: "Because I've just come from Bruton Street."
"Bruton Street!" She panicked at that; and tried to release her arm. "Billy, I'm sure you oughtn't to be seen walking with me."
"Stuff and nonsense, my dear! Stuff and nonsense!" The old man, gripping her arm all the tighter, lowered his voice in conspiratorial45 sympathy. "We ain't either of us criminals. Why shouldn't we be seen walking together? Besides, you and I've got to have a little chat. Between you and me and the gatepost, Mrs. Cavendish has been asking my advice about things. Naturally, I had to tell her that I thought you'd behaved pretty badly to Hector. Still," he patted her arm blatantly46, "that's no reason why Hector should behave badly to you, is it?"
And for a full five minutes--all the way from Devonshire House to the door of his club--chivalry had its way with Rear-Admiral Billy Brunton. He called her his "dear Alie," he assured her that he'd "fix up the whole business," and that she was to "rely upon him." He even managed to remember that she would like news of Miracle, and to inquire after Ponto.
Listening, Aliette's heart warmed. Billy seemed so hopeful, so sympathetic. And she needed both hope and sympathy that afternoon: for latterly the tension between her and Ronnie had become almost unbearable48, vitiating every hour, accentuating49 the loneliness of outlawry50, till outlawry--in comparison with retrogression from their standard of happiness--appeared only a trivial sorrow.
They arrived at the club. "Tell you what you'd better do," said Billy, "you'd better come in and drink a dish of tea. We've got a ladies room at the Jag-and-Bottle these days. Too early for a cocktail52, I'm afraid. That's what you need. You're looking peaky."
"You're a dear, Billy," retorted Aliette, at last disengaging her arm. "But you mustn't be a silly dear. You know perfectly well that you can't take me in there"; and, cutting short the old man's protests, she bolted.
4
As he watched his daughter-in-law's fur-coated figure, the little shoes thereunder and the little hat a-top, recede53 from view up Piccadilly, chivalry still had its way with the sailor's sentimental8 soul. He had promised Julia Cavendish that he would tackle Hector--and, by jingo, he would tackle Hector.
So, navy discipline and the laws of cricket alike allotting54 him the role of knight-errant, he drew a fat watch from his fob-pocket, consulted it, waved the malacca at a crawling taxi-driver, ordered him peremptorily55: "The Temple, Embankment entrance," and stepped aboard.
The admiral anchored his taxi on the Embankment; strode through the gates, up Middle Temple Lane, and across King's Bench Walk. David Patterson, rising superciliously56 from the desk in the outer office of Brunton's chambers57 to inquire a stranger's business in vacation-time, encountered a curt58, "Tell my son that his father wants to see him," and disappeared within.
"What the devil does he want?" Hector Brunton looked up from a letter he was studying; rose to his big feet, and straddled himself before the fire as his subdued59 clerk ushered60 his father through the doorway61.
"This is an unexpected honor, sir," said Hector Brunton, K.C.
The old man took off his top-hat, laid it among the papers on the desk; retained his malacca; and sat himself down pompously62 on an imitation mahogany chair.
"I've come to talk to you about your wife," he began tactlessly; and without more ado plunged63 into a recital64 of his interview with Julia Cavendish and his chance meeting with Aliette, concluding: "And if you take my advice, the best thing you can do is to start an action for divorce."
"As I told you before, sir," broke in the K.C., who had listened with restrained anger to his father's recital, "I regret I cannot take that advice." The hands trembled behind his back. "If I may say so, I consider that you've put me entirely in the wrong by calling on Mrs. Cavendish."
"Oh, you do, do you?" The old man, already sufficiently excited for one afternoon by his interview with the two ladies, felt his temper getting the better of him. "You do, do you? Well, I don't. Mrs. Cavendish is a very delightful65 woman. A woman of the world."
"No, sir." The senior service beard bristled. "I came to have this matter out once and for all. I came to tell you that you're not behaving like a gentleman."
"So you said before, sir. And I repeat the answer I gave you then. I see no reason why I should behave like a gentleman to a wife who hasn't behaved like a lady."
"Two blacks don't make a white, Hector."
"Possibly." The K.C. gathered up the tails of his morning-coat, and sat down, as though to terminate the discussion.
But the old man, gloved hands glued on the handle of the malacca, stuck to his guns. "Black's black and white's white," he rumbled67 dogmatically. "You won't whitewash68 yourself by throwing mud at your wife. I didn't want to go and see the Cavendish woman. I've always stood by my own and I always shall, so long as they stand by me. A man's first duty is to his family."
"Exactly my opinion, sir."
"Then why not act on it?" The admiral fumed69. "D'you think this business is doing me any good? D'you think it's nice for Adrian, or Simeon, or Simeon's wife, to hear you talked about all over London----"
"A man has his rights and I mean to assert mine. Let London talk if it likes." Aliette's husband spoke21 resolutely70 enough, yet he was conscious of a tremor71 in his voice. More and more now the thought of Aliette made him feel uncertain of himself. "Let London talk!" he repeated. "My wife's made a fool of me. She and young Cavendish between them have dragged my name in the dirt. May I remind you, sir, that it's your name, too----"
"All the more reason, then, to drag it out of the dirt. You won't do that by continuing to behave"--the sailor's rage got the better of him--"like a cad."
At that, Hector Brunton forgot himself. His left hand thumped72 furiously on the desk. "You tell me I'm behaving like a cad, sir. What about this bastard73 Cavendish! What about the man who seduced74 my wife from her allegiance? He's the gentleman, I presume. Well--let the gentleman keep his strumpet----"
"By God, Hector"--the old man's eyes blazed,--"you are a cad."
The K.C. quaked at the red fury in his father's look. Weakly he tried to take refuge in silence; but the next words--words uttered almost of their own volition--stung him out of silence.
"Who are you to talk of keeping strumpets?"
"Sir----"
"Be quiet, sir. D'you take me for a fool? D'you think I don't know--d'you think London doesn't know"--the admiral's gall16 mastered him completely--"about the strumpet you kept--kept without your wife's knowledge--kept in luxury for two years while other men were being killed----"
"Really, sir, I protest----"
"Protest then, and be damned to you. That's all you lawyers are fit for--protesting. Christ Almighty75, you're worse than parsons. Talk of your rights, would you? Precious good care you took not to fight for other people's rights when you had a chance. Why, even Adrian----"
"I fail to see, sir----" Hector Brunton's face whitened, as the face of a man hit by a bullet whitens, at the taunt76.
"You fail to see a good many things, sir." The admiral reached for his hat. "Allow me to tell you one of them--that the man who permits his wife to live with somebody else without taking any steps to get rid of her, is a common or garden pimp."
And the senior service, having said considerably77 more than it intended, marched out of the door.
5
Left alone, the K.C.'s first feeling was relief. During the last weeks he had grown more and more resentful of his father's interference. And now he had finished with his father for good.
Nevertheless, the taunt about his war-service rankled78. Rankled, too, the admiral's last sentence, "Get rid of her." "God, if only I could get her back," thought Hector; and so thinking, remembered, as born orators79 will remember past speeches, his opening in the Ellerson case, his impassioned defense80 of woman's right to free citizenship81.
Then he remembered Renée. Renée had returned to England. How the devil had his father found out about Renée? Aliette, of course! Aliette must have told his father about Renée.
Hector's gorge82 rose. He took a cigar from the box on his desk, lit it, and began to stride slowly up and down the book-lined room. Alternatively he visioned Renée, greedy, compliant83, satisfying to nausea84, and Aliette--Aliette the ultra-fastidious, infinitely85 unsatisfying. His marriage to a woman of Aliette's temperament86 had been a mistake. A mistake! Best cut one's loss--best get rid of her. Best comply with his father's wishes. And yet--how desirable, how infernally and eternally desirable was Aliette.
The mood passed, leaving only rage in its wake. Curse Aliette! Curse his father! Curse the Cavendishes! How they would laugh if he yielded. They were all persecuting87 him, trying to break him. And "They sha'n't break me," he muttered; his teeth biting on the cigar till they met through the sodden88 leaf. "They sha'n't break me."
Hector returned to his desk, and tried to absorb himself once more in study. But his mind refused its office. It seemed to him as though there were a ghost in the room, the ghost of his wife. "I wonder if she ever thinks of me. I wonder if she ever sees me--as I see her," he thought. "As I am seeing her now."
6
That afternoon, however, there was no picture of her legal owner in Aliette's mind. For months he had been receding89 further and further into the background of her thoughts, till now he had become more a menace than a man. It surprised her, as she walked slowly up Piccadilly after her meeting with Hector's father, to realize how little Hector had ever mattered, how much--always--Ronnie. Ronnie would be glad perhaps, to hear of her meeting with the admiral.
"Dear old Billy!" she thought, "dear old Billy!" And thinking about him, a rare tinge31 of selfishness streaked90 her altruism91. Suppose Billy succeeded! Suppose Hector really did set her free! How wonderful to be "respectable" again--to be done with the make-believe "Mrs. Cavendish" of Powolney Mansions92, to be really and truly and legally Ronnie's! Always Ronnie had been splendid, loyalest of lovers; and yet--and yet--even in the shelter of a lover's arms one was conscious of outlawry, of the world's ostracism93. What if, soon perhaps, the lover's arms were to be a husband's?
But at that, illusions burst as bubbles in the breeze. Once more the tension of the past days strung Aliette's mind to misery94. She was an outlaw51, a woman apart--a woman ostracized--worse, a woman who had failed her mate. Memory, killing95 illusions, cast itself back, remembering and exaggerating her every little unloving word, her every little unloving gesture, blaming her for them. "My fault," thought Aliette, "mine and mine only. I have been selfish to him. Utterly96 selfish. I've been--like I used to be with Hector."
Thought threw up its line, horrified97 at the comparison; and, abruptly98 conscious of every-day life, Aliette found herself in Berkeley Square. Automatically she turned down Bruton Street.
The mere99 name of the street--newly-painted in black block letters on gray stone--reminded her again of Billy, of Billy's visit to Julia Cavendish. At whose instigation, his own or hers, had the admiral visited Ronnie's mother? Hope rose again; but now, with hope, mingled100 despair. Had she so far failed Ronnie as to have forfeited101 his confidence?
Still walking automatically, Aliette found herself facing the mahogany door of Julia's house, and rang the bell.
"Yes," said Kate, "Mrs. Cavendish was at home, and alone. Would Mrs. Ronnie" (it was an understood thing in the basement of Bruton Street that Aliette should be referred to as "Mrs. Ronnie") "like some tea?"
"Thank you, Kate. That would be very nice." Aliette, unannounced, went slowly up the print-hung staircase; tapped on the drawing-room door; heard a faint "Come in"; and turned the handle.
Ronnie's mother lay on the sofa. She looked white, exhausted102; but her lips framed themselves to a smile.
"I may come in, mayn't I?" Aliette's misery increased at the sight of her hostess's pallor. "Kate's promised to bring me some tea. I'm not disturbing you, am I?"
"My dear, you're always welcome. Come and sit here by me." Julia made place on the sofa, and Aliette sat down.
"I wonder why she came this afternoon," mused103 the elder woman. "I wonder if, by any chance, she can have found out. Awkward, if she has found it. Very awkward." But there was no tremor of guilt44 in her, "How's Ronnie?"
"Quite well, thank you."
"And you?"
"Oh, I'm all right. A little worried, that's all."
"Worried? What about?"
"Oh, various things."
Kate, bringing the tea, interrupted their conversation. Watching Aliette as she drank, Julia saw that the hands, usually so steady, trembled. "Can't you tell me about the worries?" she said kindly104.
"There's nothing--really." Aliette's voice trembled as her hands. "Only I--I--met Hector's father just now. And somehow--it rather made me realize--my position."
"He did." Aliette put down her tea-cup on the little mahogany stand. "May I know--did you send for him?"
"Yes. I sent for him." A smile. "You mustn't be angry with me."
"But why--why wasn't I told about it?"
"Then you are angry?" Another smile.
"Not angry. Only a little hurt."
"Hurt! Why? It was done in your interests." The old eyes looked into the young. "We thought that, if we consulted you, you mightn't allow it."
"We! Then Ronnie"--the young eyes looked into the old--"Ronnie knew. And he never told me--he never told me."
"It wasn't Ronnie's fault." Julia laid a hand on Aliette's shoulder.
At the touch, it seemed to the younger woman as though all the misery of the past days stabbed to one dagger-point of pain. Jealousy106 wrenched107 at her tongue. She wanted to cry out, "Oh, you're cruel, cruel. Why can't you tell me the truth, the truth?" But the pain stabbed her dumb; stabbed and stabbed till her mind was one unbearable tension of self-torture. Ronnie no longer loved her. Ronnie only wanted to do his duty by her. And it was her own fault, her very own, ownest fault, for not having loved him enough.
And then, suddenly, the tension snapped--leaving her weak, defenseless.
"You're so good--so much too good to me," faltered108 Aliette. "So infinitely better than I deserve. If only--if only I hadn't brought all this trouble into your life."
"Nonsense, child," said Julia bruskly--for, despite her own weariness, she recognized hysterics in the other's voice.
"It isn't nonsense. I've brought you only troubles--troubles."
"Don't be foolish. The troubles, as you call them, are nothing. Nothing at all in comparison with Ronnie's happiness."
"Happiness!" Now hysteria was blatant47 in the other's every word. "Happiness! How can I make him happy? I can't--can't even make a home for him. All I've done is to--to let him keep me--in a--in a boarding-house."
"You're overtired, child. Overwrought. Otherwise you wouldn't talk like that." The brusquerie had given place to a quiet understanding tenderness; the hand tightened109 on Aliette's shoulder. "I tell you, you have brought happiness into our lives. Into Ronnie's life and into mine. Nothing that either of us could ever do----"
"But I'm not worth it. I'm not worth it." Tear-choked, Aliette seized Julia's hand and pressed it to her lips. "I've been rotten--rotten to your son. That's why he didn't tell me about Billy."
"Rubbish!" Resolutely the elder woman withdrew her hand. "Utter rubbish! It was entirely my fault that you weren't told about the admiral."
"Your fault?" A ray of hope illumined the brown eyes.
"Yes. Ronnie wanted you to know. But I overpersuaded him."
Silently the blue eyes held the brown, till--gradually--self-control came back to Aliette; till--gradually--she realized the tension gone from her brain.
"I'm sorry," she began. "I don't often make scenes."
"My dear"--exhausted, Julia lay back on the cushions--"you needn't apologize. No one understands better than I that life isn't altogether easy for you. But don't lose your pluck. Believe me, it'll all come out right now that we have the admiral on our side."
"Billy hasn't much influence over Hector." There was no fear, only certainty in the statement. "Hector's so vain. It's his vanity, only his vanity that prevents him from giving me my freedom."
"One day he'll be forced to give you your freedom. But," of a sudden, anxiety crept into Julia's tired voice, "if he doesn't? What if he doesn't give you your freedom, child?"
"Even if he doesn't,"--proudly, all the misery of the past days forgotten, Aliette took up the unspoken challenge--"even if he never does,"--proudly, all her being resuffused with happy courage, she rose to her feet--"it will make no difference. Whatever happens, I shall always be your son's--I shall always be Ronnie's."
And bending down, she sealed the promise with a farewell kiss--a kiss whose memory lingered with Julia long after Aliette had gone, comforting her against the prescience which had prompted that unspoken challenge, even against the prescience of death.
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solidarity
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| n.团结；休戚相关 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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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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perfectly
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relegated
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| v.使降级( relegate的过去式和过去分词 )；使降职；转移；把…归类 | |
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peculiar
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sentimental
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fully
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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bigotry
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scrawl
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| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
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inevitably
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finesse
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| n.精密技巧，灵巧，手腕 | |
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gall
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gallant
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bristled
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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21
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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22
diplomat
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| n.外交官，外交家；能交际的人，圆滑的人 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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apropos
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| adv.恰好地；adj.恰当的；关于 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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27
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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28
conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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29
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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30
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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31
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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32
tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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33
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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34
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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35
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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36
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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37
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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38
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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39
spats
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| n.口角( spat的名词复数 )；小争吵；鞋罩；鞋套v.spit的过去式和过去分词( spat的第三人称单数 )；口角；小争吵；鞋罩 | |
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40
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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41
rammed
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| v.夯实（土等）( ram的过去式和过去分词 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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42
heartiest
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| 亲切的( hearty的最高级 )； 热诚的； 健壮的； 精神饱满的 | |
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43
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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44
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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45
conspiratorial
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| adj.阴谋的，阴谋者的 | |
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blatantly
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| ad.公开地 | |
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47
blatant
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| adj.厚颜无耻的；显眼的；炫耀的 | |
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48
unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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49
accentuating
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| v.重读( accentuate的现在分词 )；使突出；使恶化；加重音符号于 | |
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50
outlawry
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| 宣布非法，非法化，放逐 | |
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51
outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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52
cocktail
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| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
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53
recede
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| vi.退(去)，渐渐远去；向后倾斜，缩进 | |
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54
allotting
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的现在分词 ) | |
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peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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superciliously
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| adv.高傲地；傲慢地 | |
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57
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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58
curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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59
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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60
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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pompously
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| adv.傲慢地，盛大壮观地；大模大样 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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64
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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smoldered
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的过去式 ) | |
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rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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68
whitewash
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| v.粉刷，掩饰；n.石灰水，粉刷，掩饰 | |
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69
fumed
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| 愤怒( fume的过去式和过去分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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71
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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72
thumped
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| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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74
seduced
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| 诱奸( seduce的过去式和过去分词 )； 勾引； 诱使堕落； 使入迷 | |
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75
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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76
taunt
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| n.辱骂，嘲弄；v.嘲弄 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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78
rankled
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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79
orators
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| n.演说者，演讲家( orator的名词复数 ) | |
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80
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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81
citizenship
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| n.市民权，公民权，国民的义务(身份) | |
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82
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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83
compliant
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| adj.服从的，顺从的 | |
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84
nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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85
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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86
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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87
persecuting
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的现在分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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88
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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89
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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90
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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91
altruism
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| n.利他主义，不自私 | |
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92
mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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93
ostracism
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| n.放逐；排斥 | |
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94
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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95
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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96
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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97
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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98
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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99
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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100
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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101
forfeited
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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102
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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103
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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104
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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105
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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106
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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107
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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108
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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109
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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