But now that the time had come he realized that this was fantastic, and his one idea was to get away, so that he might make an end of himself in decent privacy. He was not a coward: he was not afraid of death or physical suffering. But with all his soul he dreaded3 captivity4 or enforcement of any kind. The possibility of being chased into a corner, of being handcuffed and put behind bolts and bars, of being compelled and constrained5, and finally led, pinioned6, to the gallows7, filled him with horrible terror.
One of the most common forms in which a breakdown8 of the nervous system shows itself is that known as claustrophobia, a fear of being shut up or surrounded and fettered9. It is a primitive10 and primeval dread2 to which the disordered consciousness[290] leaps back; it is a survival of the days, ?ons ago, when man was both hunter and prey11 of man; it is, in essence, the fear of the trap.
Monimé, from whom his mental torture could not be altogether concealed12, looked at him with troubled, anxious eyes. “Oh, Jim,” she said, “what is the matter with you? There’s something dreadful on your mind; there’s something worrying you, and you won’t tell me about it.”
“No, there’s nothing, I assure you,” he answered, in quick denial. She must never know, for knowledge of the whole miserable13 business might bring contempt, and her love for him might be killed. Of all his terrors the terror of losing her love was the most unbearable14.
“Come down to dinner, dear,” she persuaded. “It will do you good.” She bent15 down and looked intently at him as he sat on the edge of the bed, scraping the carpet with his feet and staring at the floor, his eyes wild with alarm. “It isn’t that you are afraid of meeting somebody you don’t want to see, is it?”
His heart seemed to stop beating for a moment as he denied the suggestion. She was beginning to guess, she was beginning to suspect.
“Oh, very well, then,” he said, unable to meet her gaze. “I’ll come down. Perhaps, as you say, it’ll do me good.”
There was the black murk of damnation now in his soul, lit only by the glow of his fighting instinct. The crisis of terror was passing, and now he was determined16 not to be caught. “Go on down, darling,” he said. “I’ll follow you in a moment.”
[291]
She put her arms about him and kissed him, smoothing his forehead with her cool hand. “Whatever it is that is troubling you,” she whispered, “remember always that I love you, and shall go to my grave loving you and you only.”
He closed his eyes, and for a while his head lay upon her breast, like that of an exhausted17 child. All the brawn18 of life had been knocked out of him. Every hope, every dream, every vestige19 of content had gone from him; and in these pitiable straits he desired only to shut out the world, and to obtain, if but for a moment, a respite20 from the horror of actuality.
As soon as he was alone he went to his portmanteau, and took from it his revolver, which he loaded and placed in his pocket. His intention had been to appear to meet with an accidental death, but if he had left it now till too late, he would have to blow his brains out. A Bedouin wanderer such as he, he muttered to himself, must, at any rate, never be taken alive: a son of the open road must never be led captive.
For a moment he stood irresolute21 at the open door of his room, and the sweat gleamed upon his forehead. Then he braced22 himself, and walked down the stairs. Monimé was not far ahead of him, and, as he turned the corner to descend23 the last flight which led down into the front hall, she paused at the foot of the steps to wait for him.
He saw her standing24 there in the light of a large electric globe, her black hair as vivid as a strong colour, her skin white like marble, her eyes occult in their serenity25, her lips smiling encouragement to[292] him; but in the same glance he saw also a group of persons standing before the cashier’s office in the otherwise empty hall, and instantly he knew that the crisis of his life was upon him.
There, fat but alert, stood Mrs. Darling, still wearing day-dress and hat; beside her was a quiet-looking Englishman who was the British Consul26, and with whom Jim had had dealings in his gold-mining days; on her other hand was an Egyptian police-officer; and next to him was the proprietor of the hotel, whose face was turned in contemplation of the native policeman standing at the main entrance. It was evident on the instant that as soon as Mrs. Darling had caught sight of him on his arrival she had communicated with the police, who, in their turn, had fetched the Consul.
As Jim appeared at the head of the stairs Mrs. Darling clutched at the Consul’s arm. “There he is!” she exclaimed excitedly, pointing an accusing finger at him. “That’s the man!”
He saw Monimé swing round and face them; he saw the policeman put his hand to his hip-pocket, and turn to the Consul for instructions; and, as though a flame had been set to straw, his anger blazed up into unreasoning, passionate27 hate of all that these people stood for.
Instantly he whipped out his revolver and shouted to them: “Put up your hands, or I shoot!” at the same time running downstairs and straight at them across the hall—a wild, grey-flannelled figure, his dark hair tumbling over his pallid28 face, and his eyes burning like coals of fire. All the hands in the[293] group went up together, and he saw Mrs. Darling’s face grow livid with alarm.
Monimé ran forward. “Jim! Oh, Jim!” she cried, trying to seize his arm.
“I’m innocent!” he gasped29. “But I won’t be taken alive by a damned set of bungling30 parasites31.”
Still covering them with his revolver he backed towards the garden entrance, and the next moment was out in the chill night air and running like a madman down the path between the palms and shrubs32. The darkness was intense, and more than once he fell into the flower-beds, kicking the soft earth in all directions. He heard shouts and cries behind, but the thunder of his own brain rendered these meaningless as he dashed onwards under the stars.
Soon he came to the back wall of the garden, and this he scaled like a cat, dropping into the narrow lane on the other side and continuing his flight between the walls of the silent native huts and enclosures. At length he emerged, breathless, into the open space not far from the railway-station, where, under a flickering33 street-lamp, a two-horsed carriage was standing awaiting hire.
He hailed the red-fezzed driver with as much composure as he could command, and told him to drive “like the wind” to the temple of Karnak. This, at any rate, would take him clear of the town, and near the open fields; and to the driver he would seem to be but a somewhat impatient Cook’s tourist, anxious to see the ruins by night. Perhaps there was no need to kill himself: he might go into hiding and ultimately fly to the uttermost ends of the earth.
[294]
As the carriage lurched and swayed along the embanked road, he turned in his seat to watch for his pursuers; but there was no sign of them. Yet this fact now brought no comfort to him. With returning sanity35 he realized clearly enough that escape was impossible. Were he to hide in the desert, the Ababdeh trackers, always employed by the police in these districts, would soon hunt him down. Were he to take refuge amongst the natives, his hiding-place would be revealed in a few hours in response to the official offer of a reward. And, anyway, to abandon Monimé, and to have no likely means of communicating with her, would make the smart of life unbearable.
There was no way out, and his present flight resolved itself into a wild attempt to obtain breathing space in which to prepare himself for the end, and, if possible, to see Monimé once again to bid her farewell. The jury at home would be bound to find him guilty: the evidence was too damning. Some tramp had murdered Dolly, and was now lost forever; or else, and more probably, Merrivall’s housekeeper37 had actually done it, but was now unalterably acquitted38. It was certain that he would be hanged in the end, and it would therefore be far better to finish it this very night.
In these moments he drank the cup of bitterness to the dregs; and the comparative calmness which now succeeded his frenzy39 was the calmness of utter despair. Thus, when the driver pulled up his horses in the darkness before the towering pylons40 of the main gateway41 of the temple of Karnak, Jim paid him off and approached the ancient courts of Ammon,[295] determined only to keep his pursuers at bay until he could make his confession42 to Monimé and die in the peace of her forgiveness.
The watchman at the gateway, being used to the eccentric ways of the foreigner, admitted him without comment, and left him to wander alone amongst the vast black ruins, which were massed around him in a silence broken only by the distant yelping43 of the jackals and the nearer hooting44 of the owls45. Through the roofless Hypostyle Hall he went, a desolate46 little figure, dwarfed47 into insignificance48 by the stupendous pillars which mounted up about him into the stars; and here, presently, he stood for a while with arms outstretched and face upturned, in an agony of supplication49.
“O Almighty50 You,” he prayed, “Who, under this name or under that, have ever been the God of the wretched, and the Father of the broken-hearted, look down upon this miserable little grub whom You have created, and whose brain You had filled with all those splendid dreams which now You have shattered and swept aside. Before I come to You, grant me this last request: give me a little time with the woman I love, so that I may make my peace with her and hear her words of forgiveness.”
He walked onwards, past the huge obelisk51 of Hatshepsut, and in amongst the mass of fallen blocks of stone which lie heaped before the Sanctuary52; but now frenzy seized him again, and, furiously resolving to meet his fate, he swung round and retraced53 his steps back to the first court, breathing imprecations as he went. Somehow, by some means, he must see Monimé before the final production[296] of the handcuffs gave him the signal for his suicide, which it was now too late to disguise as an accident.
“Blast them!” he muttered. “Blast them! Blast them! I’ll show them that they can’t go chasing innocent men across the world. I’ll shoot the lot of them, and then I’ll shoot myself.” He stumbled over a fallen column. “Damnation!” he cried. “Who the devil left that thing lying about?—the silly idiots!”
Suddenly voices at the gateway came to his ears, and, with hammering heart, he realized that he had been tracked and that his hour was come. Thereupon he ran headlong through the dark forecourt of the small temple of Rameses the Third which stands at the south side of the main courtyard, and concealed himself, panting, in the sanctuary at its far end, a place to which there was but the one entrance.
Here he stood in the darkness, fingering his revolver, while the squeaking54 bats darted55 in and out of the doorway56 like little flying goblins. Presently he could see figures lit by lanterns coming towards him, and could plainly hear their voices.
“Here I am, you fools!” he called out loudly and defiantly57; and the searchers came to an immediate59 halt, holding up their lanterns and peering through the darkness. “I have my revolver covering you,” he shouted, “so don’t come close, unless you want to be killed. Do any of you know where my wife is?”
“I’m here, Jim,” came her quiet voice in the darkness. “Let me come to you.”
“It’s no good,” said the Consul. “You’d better[297] surrender at once. You can’t escape. Will you let me come and speak to you?”
“No,” Jim answered. “I’ll shoot anybody who tries to get in here, except my wife. Let me have a talk to her privately60, and then you can come and take me and I won’t resist.” He might have added that by then he would be beyond resistance.
The night air was chilly61, and the Consul did not relish62 the thought of waiting about while the criminal exchanged confidences with his wife. He therefore sharply ordered him to submit, and took two or three paces forward to emphasize his words. He came to a sudden standstill, however, when Jim’s voice from the sanctuary told him in unmistakable tones that one further step would mean instant death.
“Oh, very well,” he replied, with irritation63. “I’ll give you a quarter of an hour.” He pulled his pipe and pouch64 from his pocket, and prepared to smoke. He prided himself on his heartlessness. He had once been a Custom House official.
“You’ll give me as long as I choose to take,” said Jim, again flaring65 up, “unless you prefer bloodshed. Come, Monimé, I have a lot to say to you.”
She turned to her companions. “Have I your word of honour that you will leave him unmolested while we talk?”
“All right,” the Consul replied, setting his lantern down on the ground, and casually66 lighting67 his pipe. His shadow was thrown across the forecourt and up the side wall like some monstrous68 and menacing apparition69.
Thereat Monimé ran forward into the sanctuary,[298] and a moment later her arms were about her husband, and her lips were whispering words of encouragement and love.
“Oh, Jim, Jim!” she murmured at last. “Tell me what it’s all about. They say you were married and that you killed your wife. Tell me the truth, I beg you.”
“That is why I wanted to talk to you,” he panted, putting his hand upon her throat as though he would throttle70 her. “You must know the truth. Ever since I met you again in Cyprus, I’ve been aching to tell you all about it; but I was a coward. I so dreaded the possibility of losing you.” He threw out his arms and then clapped his hands to his head.
She seated herself on a fallen block of stone, and he slid to the ground at her feet. She was wearing an evening cloak, heavy with fur, and against this his face rested, while her mothering arms encircled him, and her hands were clasped upon his. The distant flicker34 of the lanterns made it possible for him dimly to discern the outline of her pale face; and in this uncertain light she seemed to become a celestial71 figure gazing down at him with such infinite tenderness that the ferment72 of his brain abated73.
At first in halting phrases, but presently with increasing fluency74, he told her of his inheritance of Eversfield Manor75, of his marriage to Dolly, and of the three dreary76 years which followed. Then briefly77 he described his escape, his supposed death, and his wanderings which brought him to Cyprus.
“When I went back to England,” he said, “it was with the idea of obtaining a divorce, so that you and I might be married. I had come to love you with[299] every fibre of my being, and life without you seemed unthinkable.”
He told her of Smiley-face, of his meeting with Dolly in the woods, and how next day he had read of her murder. “I swear to you, as God sees me,” he declared, “that I had nothing to do with her death. But who is going to believe me? I was the last person to be with her: my supposed motive78 is clear!”
He went on to relate how he had fled back to Egypt, and how, finding that the crime was placed at the door of another, he had felt himself free to ask her to marry him. Then had come the devastating79 news that he was wanted by the police, and his worst fears had been substantiated80 when he had caught sight of Mrs. Darling on his arrival at the hotel.
“The rest you know,” he said. “I ran away just now in a frenzy of fear and rage; but that has left me and I am prepared. Feel my hand: it doesn’t shake, you see. I am quite cool, now. They shall never take me to the scaffold, Monimé. They shall never make our story a public scandal. In a few minutes I am going to shoot myself....”
She uttered a low cry of anguish81. “Jim, Jim! What are you saying? We’ll fight the case. We’ll get the best lawyers in England to defend you. They’ll have to realize that you are innocent.”
“Do you believe I am innocent?” he asked.
“Yes, yes!” she cried. “I believe every word you have told me. My intuition is never wrong: and I know what you have told me is the truth.”
The relief he felt at her belief in him was immediate,[300] and yet he was not able to grasp at once its full significance.
“The jury won’t believe me,” he said. “I meant to die by what would appear an accident; but things reached the crisis too quickly. I lost my head. If I don’t end things here and now, our son will be branded as the son of a man who was hanged. Once I’m arrested I shall be watched night and day: there will not be another chance to die honourably83.”
“You mustn’t speak of dying, my beloved,” she murmured. “If you were to go, do you think I could live without you? I have got to bring up our son and watch over him until he can fend82 for himself. Do you think I shall be able to live long enough to do so if you have left me? If you die, Jim, my life will be so smashed that even the power of motherhood will fail to keep the breath in my body. If we had no child it might be different; we would go together now, into the valley of the shadows, and side by side we would find our way to the City of God, if at all it may be found. But as it is, I can’t come with you; and you can’t have the heart to leave me behind while there’s still a chance that you need not have gone.”
“Monimé,” he answered, “listen to me. There is no hope. You are asking me to submit to imprisonment84, a thing unthinkable to a wanderer like myself. You are asking me to submit to a trial in which your name will be dragged through the dirt as well as mine. You will be called the ‘woman in the case’; my passion for you will be recorded as my motive. The story of our love will be travestied and brought up against you and our son all your[301] lives. Whereas, if I end it now, most of the tale will never be told in open court, and the whole thing will soon be forgotten.”
She laughed. “Do you think I weigh gossip against the chance, however remote, of the trial going in your favour? Do you think I care what they say against me in the court if there is any hope of your acquittal? My darling, I shall fight for your life and your good name, which is mine and Ian’s, too, to my last ounce of strength and my last penny; and in the end there will be victory, because you are innocent, and innocence85 shows its face as surely as guilt36.”
“You really do believe what I say—that I had absolutely nothing to do with her death?” he asked, still hardly daring to credit her trust. His experiences with Dolly had left him with so profound a scepticism in regard to female mentality86 that even his adoration87 of Monimé was not wholly proof against it.
She looked down at him, and he seemed to detect an expression upon her face which was almost defiant58. “My dear,” she said, “as far as I am concerned, even if you were guilty it would make no difference.”
He stared at her incredulously, for man does not know woman, nor can he penetrate88 to the source of her deepest convictions. It was not Monimé, it was no individual, who had spoken: it was eternal woman.
“Nothing can alter love,” she explained. “Can’t a man understand that?”
[302]
“No,” he answered, “only woman and God love in that way.”
Suddenly he seemed to realize to the full the glory of her sympathy and understanding. It was as though their love in this moment of bitter trial had passed the greatest of all tests, and stood now triumphant89, the conqueror90 of life and death.
All the years of misery91 were blotted92 out in the wonder of this revelation of womanhood, and on the instant his desire for life in unity93 with her came surging back into his heart.
“Monimé,” he said, “this is the biggest moment of all. Whatever I may suffer will be worth while, because it will have brought me the knowledge that our love transcends94 the ways of man. By God!—I’ll stand my trial; I’ll make a fight for my life, even though the chances of success are small. I didn’t know that such love existed.”
She laughed. “You didn’t know,” she whispered, “because, as I once told you, men don’t bother to study women.”
He looked up at her in the dim light, and of a sudden it seemed to his overwrought fancy that the sanctuary was filled with her presence, as though she were one with the women of all the ages, pressing forward from every side to tend him, to bind95 up his wounds, to stand by him in his adversity, to forgive his sins. He saw her revealed to him as the eternal woman, the everlasting96 companion, wife and mother, for ever watching over his welfare, for ever acting97 upon a code of principles other than that of man, for ever drawing knowledge from sources unattainable to man. Of no account were the little[303] shams98 of the sex, such as Dolly; they were swamped amidst the hosts of the good and the true. It had been his misfortune to encounter one of the former; but his disillusionment was forgotten in the all-pervading sympathy which now enfolded him like the tender wings of Hathor.
He scrambled99 to his feet and stood before her, gazing into her shadowy face. “Come,” he said, “the night air is too chilly for you. You must go back to the hotel, and I must go with these confounded little tin soldiers.” His voice was cheery and his head was held high once more.
They came out of the black sanctuary hand-in-hand, and stood in the columned portico100 before the entrance, in the dimly reflected light of the lanterns.
“Well, have you finished?” the Consul asked, knocking out the ashes from his pipe against the uplifted heel of his boot.
“Yes, I am ready now,” Jim replied very quietly.
He unloaded his revolver, shaking the cartridges101 into his hand, thereafter holding out the empty weapon to the native policeman, who, being a Soudani, was the first to take the risk of approach.
“Give me the handcuffs,” said the Consul to the police officer.
Jim extended his wrists, and as he did so his face was averted102 and his eyes were fixed103 upon Monimé. On her lips was the smile of Hathor and of Isis—serene, confident, inscrutable, all-wise.
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1
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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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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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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pinioned
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| v.抓住[捆住]（双臂）( pinion的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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breakdown
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| n.垮，衰竭；损坏，故障，倒塌 | |
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fettered
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| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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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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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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brawn
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| n.体力 | |
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vestige
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| n.痕迹，遗迹，残余 | |
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respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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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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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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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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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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consul
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| n.领事；执政官 | |
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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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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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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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bungling
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| adj.笨拙的，粗劣的v.搞糟，完不成( bungle的现在分词 )；笨手笨脚地做；失败；完不成 | |
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parasites
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| 寄生物( parasite的名词复数 )； 靠他人为生的人； 诸虫 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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pylons
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| n.（架高压输电线的）电缆塔( pylon的名词复数 )；挂架 | |
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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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yelping
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的现在分词 ) | |
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44
hooting
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
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45
owls
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| n.猫头鹰( owl的名词复数 ) | |
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46
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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47
dwarfed
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| vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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48
insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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49
supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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50
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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51
obelisk
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| n.方尖塔 | |
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52
sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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53
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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54
squeaking
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的现在分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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55
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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56
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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57
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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58
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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59
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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60
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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62
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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63
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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throttle
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| n.节流阀，节气阀，喉咙；v.扼喉咙，使窒息，压 | |
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celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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72
ferment
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| vt.使发酵；n./vt.（使）激动，（使）动乱 | |
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abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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fluency
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| n.流畅，雄辩，善辩 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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76
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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devastating
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| adj.毁灭性的，令人震惊的，强有力的 | |
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substantiated
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| v.用事实支持（某主张、说法等），证明，证实( substantiate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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82
fend
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| v.照料（自己），（自己）谋生，挡开，避开 | |
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83
honourably
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| adv.可尊敬地，光荣地，体面地 | |
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84
imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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85
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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86
mentality
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| n.心理，思想，脑力 | |
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adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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88
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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92
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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93
unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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94
transcends
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| 超出或超越（经验、信念、描写能力等）的范围( transcend的第三人称单数 )； 优于或胜过… | |
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95
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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96
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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97
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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98
shams
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| 假象( sham的名词复数 )； 假货； 虚假的行为（或感情、言语等）； 假装…的人 | |
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99
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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100
portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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101
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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102
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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103
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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