“If I only could!”
“You ought to,” he urged.
“Oh, I know it—but I can’t.”
“You may never see my father again.”
“Don’t say that! He’ll get well, honey; you mustn’t think anything else. Oh, it’s too bad! it’s just too bad!”
He felt lonely and afraid of what was ahead of him. He was afraid of his father’s death, and of a funeral. He was terrified at the thought of his mother’s woe8. He
could feel her clutching at him helplessly, frantically9, and telling him that he was all she had left. His eyes filled with tears at the vision and they blinded him to
everything but the vision. He put his hands out through the mist and caught Sheila’s arms and pleaded:
“You ought to come with me, now of all times.”
She could only repeat and repeat: “I know it, but I can’t, I can’t. You see that I can’t, don’t you, honey?”
His voice was harsh when he answered: “No, I don’t see why you can’t. Your place is there.”
She cast her eyes up and beat her palms together hopelessly over the complete misunderstanding that thwarted11 the union of their souls. She took his hands again and
squeezed them passionately12.
Reben came upon them, swinging his cane13. Seeing the two holding hands, he essayed a frivolity14. “Honeymoon not on the wane15 yet?”
Sheila told him the truth. He was all sympathy at once. His race made him especially tender to filial love, and his grief brought tears to his eyes. He crushed Bret’s
“If I could only do anything to help you!”
Reben gasped18. “My boy, my boy! It’s impossible! The matinée begins in half an hour. She should be making up now.”
“Let somebody else play her part.”
“There is no understudy ready. We never select the understudy for the try-out performances. Sheila, you must understand.”
“I do, of course; but poor Bret—he can’t seem to.”
“Oh, all right, I understand,” Winfield sighed with a resignation that terrified Sheila. “What train can I get? Do you know?”
Reben knew the trains. He would get the company-manager to secure the tickets. Bret must go by way of Detroit. He could not leave till after five. He would reach
The big fellow’s frame shook with anxiety. So much could happen in twenty-four hours. It would seem a year to his poor mother. He hurried away to send her a telegram.
Sheila paused at the stage door, staring after his forlorn figure; then she darted20 in to her task.
Bret came back shortly and dropped into a chair in Sheila’s dressing-room. His eyes, dulled with grief, watched her as she plastered on her face the various layers of
color, spreading the carmine21 on cheek and ear with savage22 brilliance23, penciling her eyelashes till thick beads24 of black hung from them, painting her eyelids25 blue above
He turned from her, sick with disgust.
Sheila felt his aversion, and it choked her when she tried to comfort him. She painted her arms and shoulders white and powdered them till clouds of dust rose from the
Pennock opened the door of the dressing-room to listen for the cue. When the time came Sheila sighed, ran to Bret, clasped him in a tight embrace, and kissed his wet
He followed to watch her make her entrance. She stood a moment between the flats, turned and stared her adoration31 at him through her viciously leaded eyelashes, and
wafted32 him a sad kiss. Then she caught up her train and began to laugh softly as from a distance. She ran out into the glow of artificial noon, laughing. A faint
Bret watched her, heard her voice sparkle, heard it greeted with waves of hilarity34. He could not realize how broken-hearted she was for him. He could not understand
how separate a thing her stage emotions were from her personal feelings.
Good news would not have helped her comedy; bad news could hardly alter it. She went through her well-learned lines and intonations35 as a first-class soldier does the
manual of arms without reference to his love or grief.
All Bret knew was that his wife was out there, laughing and causing laughter, while far away his mother was sobbing—sobbing perhaps above the chill clay of his
father.
He hurried from the stage door to pack his trunk. He went cursing the theater, and himself for lingering in its infamous36 shadow. He did not come back till the play was
over and Sheila in her street clothes. In her haste she had overlooked traces of her make-up—that odious37 blue about the eyes, the pink edging of the ears, the lead on
the eyelashes.
Once more Sheila went to the train with her husband. They clung together in fierce farewells, repeated and repeated till the train was moving and the porter must run
alongside to help Bret aboard.
When he looked back he could not see Sheila’s pathetic figure and her sad face. When he thought of her he thought of her laughing in her motley. All the next day he
thought of her in the theater rehearsing.
He loved her perhaps the more for that unattainable soul of hers. He had won her, wed30 her, possessed38 her, made her his in body and name; but her soul was still
uncaptured. He vowed39 and vowed again that he would make her altogether his. She was his wife; she should be like other wives.
When he reached home his father was dead. His mother was too weak with grief to rebuke40 him for being on a butterfly-hunt at such a time.
He knelt by her bed and held her in his arms while she told him of his father’s long fight to keep alive till his boy came back. She begged him not to leave her
again, and he promised her that he would make her home his.
The days that ensued were filled with tasks of every solemn kind. There was the funeral to prepare for and endure, and after that the assumption of all his father’s
wealth. This came to him, not as a mighty41 treasure to squander42, but as a delicate invalid43 to nurture44 and protect.
Sheila’s telegrams and letters were incessant45 and so full of devotion for him that they had room for little about herself.
She told him she was working hard and missing him terribly, and what her next address would be. She tried vainly to mask her increasing terror of the dreadful opening
in Chicago.
He wished that he might be with her, yet knew that he had no real help to give her. He prayed for her success, but with a mental reservation that if the play were the
direst failure he would not be sorry, for it would bring them to peace the sooner.
He tried to school his undisciplined mind to the Herculean task of learning in a few days what his father had acquired by a life of toil46. The factory ran on smoothly
under the control of its superintendents47, but big problems concerning the marketing48 of the output, consolidation49 with the trust, and enlargement of the plant, were
rising every hour. These matters he must decide like an infant king whose ministers disagree.
To his shame and dismay, he could not give his whole heart to the work; his heart was with Sheila. He thought of her without rancor50 now. He recognized the bravery and
honor that had kept her with the company. As she had told him once before, treachery to Reben would be a poor beginning of her loyalty51 to Bret. The very things he
cherished bitterly against her turned sweet in his thoughts. He decided52 that he could not live without her, and might as well recognize it.
He found himself clenching53 his hands at his desk and whispering prayers that the play should be a complete failure. How else could they be reunited? He could not shirk
his own responsibilities. It was not a man’s place to give up his career. There was only one hope—the failure of the play.
But “The Woman Pays” was a success. The Grand Rapids oracle54 guessed wrong. As sometimes happens, the city critics were kinder than the rural. Sheila sent Bret a
double night-telegram. She said that she was sorry to say that the play had “gone over big.” She had an enormous ovation55; there had been thirty curtain calls; the
audience had made her make a speech. Reben had said the play would earn a mint of money. And then she added that she missed Bret “terribly,” and loved him “madly
and nothing else mattered.”
The next day she telegraphed him that the critics were “wonderful.” She quoted some of their eulogies56 and announced that she was mailing the clippings to him. But
she said that she would rather hear him speak one word of praise than have them print a million. He did not believe it, but he liked to read it.
He did not wait to receive the clippings. He gave up opposing his ravenous57 heart, and took train for Chicago. He could not bear to have everybody except himself
acclaiming58 his wife in superlatives.
He decided to surprise her. He did not even telegraph a warning. Indeed, when he reached Chicago in the early evening, he resolved to see the performance before he let
her know he was in town.
He could not get by Mr. McNish, who was “on the door,” without being recognized, but he asked McNish not to let “Miss Kemble” know that he was in the house. McNish
agreed readily; he did not care to agitate59 Sheila during the performance. After the last curtain fell her emotions would be her own.
McNish was glowing as he watched the crowd file past the ticket-taker. He chuckled60: “It’s a sell-out to-night I bet. This afternoon we had the biggest first matinée
this theater has known for years. I told Reben two years ago that the little lady was star material. He said he’d never thought of it. She’s got personality and she
gets it across. She plays herself, and that’s the hardest kind of acting62 there is. I discover her, and Reben cops the credit and the coin. Ain’t that life all over?
”
Bret agreed that it was, and hurried to his seat. It was in the exact center of a long row. He was completely surrounded by garrulous63 women trying to outchatter even
A fat woman on his right bulged65 over into his domain66 and filled the arm of his chair with her thick elbow. A lean woman on his left had an arm some inches too long for
her space, and her elbow projected like a spur into Bret’s ribs67. He could have endured their contiguity68 if they had omitted their conversation. The overweening woman
was chewing gum and language with the same grinding motions, giving her words a kind of stringy quality.
“Jevver see this Sheilar Kemble?” she munched69. “I seen her here some time ago. She didn’t have a very big part, but she played it perfect. She was simpully
gurrand. I says at the time to the gempmum was with me, I says, ‘Somebody ought to star that girl.’ I guess I must ’a’ been overheard, for here she is.
“A lady frien’ o’ mine went last night, and told me I mustn’t miss it. She says they got the handsomest actor playin’ the lover—feller name of Weldon or Weldrum
or something like that—but anyway she says he makes love something elegant, and so does Sheilar. This frien’ o’ mine says they must be in love with each other, for
nobody could look at one another that way without they meant it. Well, we’ll soon see.”
To hear his wife’s name and Eldon’s chewed up together in the gum of a strange plebeian70 was disgusting.
“She’s almost a lady, this Kemble gull72. Really, she was received in the veribest homes hyah lahst wintuh. Yes, I met hah everywhah. She was really quite refined—for
an actress, of cawse. Several of the nicest young men made quite fools of themselves—quite. Fawtunately their people saved them from doing anything rahsh. I suppose
she’ll upset them all again this season. There ought to be some fawm of inoculation73 to protect young men against actresses. Don’t you think so? It’s fah more
dangerous than typhoid fevah, don’t you think so?”
All about him Bret heard Sheila’s name tossed carelessly as a public property.
The curtain rose at last and the play began. Sheila made a conspicuously74 inconspicuous entrance without preparation, without even the laughter she had formerly
employed. She was just there. The audience did not recognize her till she spoke75, then came a volley of applause.
Bret’s eyes filled with tears. She was beautiful. She seemed to be sad. Was she thinking of him? He wanted to clamber across the seats and over the footlights to
protect her once more from the mob, not from its ridicule76 as at that first sight of her, but from its more odious familiarity and possession.
He hardly recognized the revised play. The character she played—and played in her very selfhood—was emotional now, and involved in a harrowing situation with a
mystery as to her origin, and hints of a past, a scandal into which an older woman, an adventuress, had decoyed her.
Then Eldon came on the scene and they fell in love at once; but she was afraid of her past, and evaded77 him for his own sake. He misunderstood her and accused her of
despising him because he was poor; and she let him think so, because she wanted him to hate her.
The audience wept with luxurious78 misery79 over her saintly double-dealing. The gum-chewer’s tears salted her pepsin and she commented: “Ain’t it awful what beasts you
The sharp-elbowed woman dabbed81 her eyes with a handkerchief and said that it was “really quite affecting—quite. I’ve made myself ridiculous.” Then she blew her
Winfield was astounded84 at the changes in the play. A few new scenes altered the whole meaning of it. Everything pink before was purple now. The r?les of Sheila and
Eldon had been rendered melodramatic. Sheila’s comedy was accomplished now in a serious way. With a quaint85 little pout86, or two steps to the side and a turn of the
head, she threw the audience into convulsions.
Suddenly Sheila would quench87 the hilarity with a word, and the hush88 would be enormous and strangely anxious; then the handkerchiefs would come out.
Bret would have felt with the mob had the actress been any woman on earth but his own. That made all the difference in the world. He told himself that she was the
victim of her art. But his ire burned against Eldon, since Eldon made love to her for nearly three hours. And he said and did noble things that made her love him more
In the second act Eldon overtook the fugitive90 Sheila and claimed her for his own. She broke loose and ran from him, weeping, because she felt “unworthy of a good man
’s love.” But she followed him with eyes of doglike adoration. Her hands quivered toward him and she held them back “for his dear sake.” Then he caught her again
and would not let her escape. He held her by both hands.
“Mary!”—that was her name in the play. “Mary,” he cried, “I love you. The sight of you fills my eyes with longing91. The touch of your hand sets my very soul on
fire. I love you. I can’t live without you!”
He seized her in his arms, crushed her fiercely. She struggled a moment, then began to yield, to melt toward him. She lifted her eyes to his—then turned them away
again. The audience could read in them passion fighting against renunciation. She murmured:
He pressed his conquest. “You do love me! You must! You can’t scorn a love like mine. I have seen you weeping. I can read in your eyes that you love me. Your eyes
belong to me. Your lips are mine. Give them to me! Kiss me! Kiss me—Ma-ry!”
She quivered with surrender. The audience burned with excitement. The lover urged his cause with select language.
It was the sort of thing the women in the audience did not get from their own lovers or husbands; the sort of thing the men in the audience wanted to be able to say in
a crisis and could not. Therefore, for all its banality94, it thrilled them. They ate it up. It was a sentimental95 banquet served at this emotion restaurant every
evening.
At length, as Eldon repeated his demand in tones that swept the sympathetic strings96 in every bosom97 to response, Mary began to yield; her hands climbed Eldon’s arms
slowly, paused on his shoulders. In a moment they would plunge98 forward and clasp him about the neck.
Her lips were lifted, pursed to meet his. And then—as the audience was about to scream with suspense—she thrust herself away from him, broke loose, moaning:
“No, I am unworthy—no, no—I can’t, I don’t love you—no—no!”
The curtain fell on another flight.
Bret wanted to push through the crowd and go back to the stage to forbid the play from going on. But he would have had to squeeze past the fat woman’s form or stride
across the lean woman’s protrusive99 knees. And fat women and men, and lean, were wedged in the seats on both sides of him. He was imprisoned100 in his wrath101.
As if his own doubts and certainties were not torture enough, he had to hear them voiced in the dialects of others.
The gumstress was saying: “Well, I guess that frien’ o’ mine got it right when she says those two actors must be in love with each other. I tell you no girrl can
look at a feller with those kind of looks without there bein’ somethin’ doin’, you take it from me. No feller like Mr. Eldon is goin’ to hold no beauty like Sheila
in his arms every evening and not fall in love with her.”
Her escort was encouraged by her enthusiasm to rhapsodize over Sheila on his own account. It seemed to change the atmosphere. He had paid for both seats, but he had
not bought free speech. He said—with as little tact102 as one might expect from a man who would pay court to that woman:
“Well, all I gotter say is, if that guy gets wore out huggin’ Sheila I’ll take his place and not charge him a cent. Some snap, he has, spendin’ his evenin’s
huggin’ and kissin’ an A1 beaut like her and gettin’ paid for it.” He seemed to realize a sudden fall in the temperature. Perhaps he noted103 that the gum-crunching
jaw104 had paused and the elastic105 sweetmeat hung idle in the mill. He tried to retreat with a weak:
“But o’ course she gets paid for huggin’ him, too.”
The anxious escort bent106 forward to look into his companion’s face. He caught a glimpse of Bret’s eyes and wondered how that maniac107 came there. He sank back alarmed
just as Bret realized that, however unendurable such comment was, he could not resent it while his wife belonged to the public; he could only resolve to take her out
But his Gehenna was not ended yet, for he must hear more from the woman.
“Well, o’ course, Mr. Jeggle, if you’re goin’ to fall for an actress as easy as that, you’re not the man I should of thought you was. But that’s men all over. An
actress gets ’em every time.
“I could of went on the stage myself. Ma always said I got temper’munt to beat the band. But she said if I ever disgraced her so far as to show my face before the
footlights I need never come home. I’d find the door closed against me.
“And my gempmum friend at that time says if I done so he’d beat me with a rollin’-pin. The way he come to use such words was he was travelin’ for a bakery-supply
house—he was kind of rough in his talk—nice, though—and eyes!—umm! Well, him and I quarreled. I found he had two other wives on his route and I refused to see him
again—that’s his ring there now. He was a wicked devil, but he did draw the line at actresses. He married often, but he drew the line: and he says no actress should
ever be a wife of his.
“And he had it right. No sane109 man ain’t goin’ to leave his wife layin’ round loose in the arms of any handsome actor, not if he’s a real man. If she’ll kiss him
like that in public—well, I say no more. Not that I blame a poor actress for goin’ wrong. I never believe in being merciless to the fallen. It’s the fault of the
stage. The stage is a nawful immor’l place, Mr. Jeggle. The way I get it is this: if a girl’s not ummotional she’s got no right on the stage. If she is ummotional
she’s got no chance to stay good on the stage. Do you see what I mean?”
Mr. Jeggle said he saw what she meant and he forbore to praise Sheila further. He changed the perilous110 subject hastily and lowered his voice.
Bret, on a gridiron of intolerable humiliation111, could hear now the dicta of the elbow-woman.
“I fancy the young men in Chicago are quite safe from that Kemble gull this season. She must be hopelessly infatuated with that actor. And no wonder. If she doesn’t
keep him close to hah, though, he’ll play havoc112 with every gull in town. He’s quite too beautiful—quite!”
In the last act Sheila poured out the confession113 of her sins to Eldon. This was a bit that Bret had not seen, and it poured vinegar into his wounds to hear his own
wife announcing to a thousand people how she had been duped and deceived by a false marriage to a man who had never understood her. That was bad enough, but to have
Eldon offered her the shelter of his name and the haven115 of his love. And she let him hold her in his arms while he poured across her shoulder his divine sentiments.
Now and then she would turn her head and gaze up at him in worship and longing, and at last, with an irresistible116 passion, she whirled and threw her arms around him
That could not be acting. Bret swore that it was real.
They clung together till several humorous characters appeared at doors and windows and she broke away in confusion. There were explanations, untying119 of knots and tying
of others, and the play closed in a comedy finish.
The curtain went down and up and down and up in a storm of applause, and Sheila bowed and bowed, holding Eldon’s hand and generously recommending him to the audience.
He bowed to her and bowed himself off and left her standing10 and nodding with quaint little ducks of the head and mock efforts to escape, mock expressions of surprise
at finding the curtain up again and the audience still there.
Bret had to wait till the women got into their hats and wraps. They were talking, laughing, and sopping120 up their tears. They had been well fed on sorrow and joy and
they were ready for supper and sleep.
Bret wanted to fight his way through in football manner, but he could hardly move. The crowd ebbed121 out with the deliberation of a glacier122, and he could not escape
either the people or their comments. The Chicago papers had not heard of Sheila’s marriage to him. He was a nonentity123. The sensation of the town was the romance of
Sheila Kemble and Floyd Eldon.
When at last Bret was free of the press he dashed round to the stage entrance. The old doorkeeper made no resistance, for the play was over and visitors often came
In his furious haste he stumbled down the steps to the stage and almost sprawled125. He had to wait while a squad126 of “grips” went by with a huge folded flat
representing the whole side of a canvas house.
He stepped forward; a sandbag came down and struck him on the shoulder. He tripped on the cables of the box lights and lost his glasses. While he groped about for them
he heard the orchestra, muffled by the curtain, playing the audience out to a boisterous127 tune128. His clutching fingers were almost stepped on by two men carrying away a
piece of solid stairway.
Before he found his glasses he was demoniac with rage. He rubbed them on his sleeve, set them in place, and again a departing wall obstructed129 his view. An actress and
an actor walked into him. At last he found the clear stage ahead of him. He made out a group at the center of it. McNish, Batterson, and Prior were in jovial
conference, slapping each other’s shoulders and chortling with the new wine of success.
He brushed by them and saw Sheila at last. Reben was holding her by one arm; his other hand was on Eldon’s shoulder. He was telling them of the big leap in the box-
office receipts.
Sheila seemed rapturous with pride and contentment. Bret saw her murmur92 something to Eldon. He could not hear what it was, but he heard Eldon chuckle61 delightedly. Then
he called:
“Eldon!”
Eldon looked forward just in time to see Bret coming on like a striding giant, just in time to see the big arm swing up in a rigid130 drive, shoulder and side and all.
点击
收听单词发音
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1
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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3
sledge
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| n.雪橇，大锤；v.用雪橇搬运，坐雪橇往 | |
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4
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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7
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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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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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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13
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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frivolity
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| n.轻松的乐事，兴高采烈；轻浮的举止 | |
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wane
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| n.衰微，亏缺，变弱；v.变小，亏缺，呈下弦 | |
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ointment
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| n.药膏，油膏，软膏 | |
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proffer
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| v.献出，赠送；n.提议，建议 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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carmine
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| n.深红色，洋红色 | |
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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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brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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smearing
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| 污点，拖尾效应 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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31
adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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33
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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34
hilarity
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| n.欢乐；热闹 | |
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35
intonations
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| n.语调，说话的抑扬顿挫( intonation的名词复数 )；（演奏或唱歌中的）音准 | |
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36
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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37
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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38
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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39
vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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40
rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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41
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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42
squander
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| v.浪费，挥霍 | |
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43
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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44
nurture
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| n.养育，照顾，教育；滋养，营养品；vt.养育，给与营养物，教养，扶持 | |
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45
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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46
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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47
superintendents
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| 警长( superintendent的名词复数 )； （大楼的）管理人； 监管人； （美国）警察局长 | |
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48
marketing
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| n.行销，在市场的买卖，买东西 | |
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49
consolidation
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| n.合并,巩固 | |
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50
rancor
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| n.深仇，积怨 | |
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51
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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52
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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53
clenching
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
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54
oracle
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| n.神谕，神谕处，预言 | |
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55
ovation
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| n.欢呼，热烈欢迎，热烈鼓掌 | |
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56
eulogies
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| n.颂词，颂文( eulogy的名词复数 ) | |
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57
ravenous
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| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
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58
acclaiming
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| 向…欢呼( acclaim的现在分词 )； 向…喝彩； 称赞…； 欢呼或拥戴（某人）为… | |
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59
agitate
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| vi.(for,against)煽动，鼓动；vt.搅动 | |
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60
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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62
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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63
garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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64
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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65
bulged
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| 凸出( bulge的过去式和过去分词 )； 充满； 塞满（某物） | |
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66
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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67
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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68
contiguity
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| n.邻近，接壤 | |
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69
munched
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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70
plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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71
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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72
gull
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| n.鸥；受骗的人；v.欺诈 | |
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73
inoculation
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| n.接芽；预防接种 | |
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74
conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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75
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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76
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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77
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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78
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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79
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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80
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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81
dabbed
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| （用某物）轻触( dab的过去式和过去分词 )； 轻而快地擦掉（或抹掉）； 快速擦拭； （用某物）轻而快地涂上（或点上）… | |
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82
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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83
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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84
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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85
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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86
pout
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| v.撅嘴；绷脸；n.撅嘴；生气，不高兴 | |
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87
quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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88
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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89
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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90
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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91
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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92
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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93
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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94
banality
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| n.陈腐；平庸；陈词滥调 | |
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95
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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96
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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97
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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98
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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99
protrusive
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| adj.伸出的，突出的 | |
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100
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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102
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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103
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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104
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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105
elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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106
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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107
maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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108
pillory
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| n.嘲弄；v.使受公众嘲笑；将…示众 | |
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109
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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110
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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111
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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112
havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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113
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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114
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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115
haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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116
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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117
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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118
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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119
untying
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| untie的现在分词 | |
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120
sopping
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| adj. 浑身湿透的 动词sop的现在分词形式 | |
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121
ebbed
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的过去式和过去分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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122
glacier
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| n.冰川，冰河 | |
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123
nonentity
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| n.无足轻重的人 | |
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124
troupe
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| n.剧团，戏班；杂技团；马戏团 | |
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125
sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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126
squad
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| n.班，小队，小团体；vt.把…编成班或小组 | |
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127
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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128
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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129
obstructed
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| 阻塞( obstruct的过去式和过去分词 )； 堵塞； 阻碍； 阻止 | |
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130
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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131
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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