“What’s he doing here?” she asked wildly.
“He mustn’t see Godfrey here.”
“That’s easily managed,” said Baltazar. “I’ll send him flying out of the telephone box. But what on earth could have put your husband on the track? What indiscretion have you been committing?”
“I left a letter for him telling him I wouldn’t stay any longer in his house. He’s a traitor2 to his country.”
Baltazar threw up his hands. “Oh, Lord! The usual idiocy3. For a clever woman—well! Anyhow, I’ll head off Godfrey. When your husband spots you, use your brains. Don’t say a word to give yourself away.”
“You’ll come back?” she cried, losing her head.
“I’ll see,” said he.
He left her, and fetched a compass round the station, mingling4 as much as possible with the never-ceasing throng5 of soldiers and civilians6 and women and luggage, until he arrived at the row of telephone boxes. There he found Godfrey, waiting his turn and fuming7 at the delay.
“My boy,” said he, “here are all the elements of a first-class farce8. The injured husband, Edgar Donnithorpe, has turned up. You had better make tracks as quick as you can.”
“You’re insulting your own blood to make such a damfool remark,” said Baltazar. “Go home, and stay there till I come.”
Godfrey met the infernal eyes and, for all his anger and humiliation11, knew that he had accused basely.
Baltazar hesitated. Should he or should he not return to Lady Edna? If he had escaped the eye of Edgar Donnithorpe, it were better to leave Lady Edna, injured innocent, to tell her tale of solitary13 retirement14 to sylvan15 depths where she could be remote from the consequences of his political turpitude16. On the other hand, if he had been observed, or if Lady Edna had avowed17 his presence, his abandonment of her might be idiotically interpreted. He decided18 to return.
He saw them at once through the moving traffic: the husband, his back towards him, gripping a handle of the truck on which the luggage was piled; the wife facing him, an ironical19 smile on her lips. A devilish handsome woman, thought Baltazar. The boy had taste. There she stood, slim, distinguished20 in her simple fawn21 coat and skirt and little hat to match, beneath which waved her dark brown hair, very cool, aristocratic and defiant22. Baltazar came up to them.
“Ah, Donnithorpe!”
The thin, grey man wheeled round, and then Baltazar realized that he had made the wrong decision, for he was the last man the other expected to see.
“You? What are you doing here?” he shouted.
“Hush!” said Lady Edna, with a touch on his arm. “You’re not at home or in the House of Commons. You’re in a public place, and you’ll get a crowd round us in no time. Let us pretend we’re a merry party going on a holiday.”
Edgar Donnithorpe threw an anxious glance round to see if they had attracted undesired attention. But people passed them by or stood in knots near them, unheeding, intent on their own affairs.
“I ask you,” he said in a low voice, “what you are doing at this railway station with my wife?”
Baltazar, his felt hat at the back of his head and his hands thrust into his trousers’ pockets beneath the skirts of his buttoned-up, double-breasted jacket, eyed him in exasperating24 amusement.
“I am seeing Lady Edna off on a railway journey. Was it necessary to ask your permission?”
Lady Edna laughed mockingly. “As far as I can make out, my husband expected to find me eloping with your son Godfrey.”
Donnithorpe shifted his eyes from one to the other, looking at them evilly.
“He was with you for nearly a couple of hours to-day. I had my own very good reasons for suspicion. I went round to your house, Mr. Baltazar, and asked for your son. I saw your Chinese secretary——” He caught Baltazar’s involuntary sudden frown and angry flush. “In justice,” he continued in his thin, sneering26 manner, “I must absolve27 him from indiscretion. He knows my position in the Government, and when I informed him that it was imperative28 I should see your son on important political business, he told me I should find him at Waterloo station.”
“You overreached yourself,” said Baltazar with a bantering29 grin. “Godfrey knows no more about politics than a tom-cat. Quong Ho naturally thought you meant me. You came. Here I am, seeing your wife off. She telephoned me that she was leaving your house—going to stay with friends—wanted a man of the world’s advice on the serious step she was taking—woman-like, of course, she took the step first, and asked for advice afterwards—and I naturally put myself at her ladyship’s disposal. Don’t you think you had better let Lady Edna get on with her journey? Here’s her porter. Come with me and see her safe into her carriage.”
He was enjoying himself amazingly. Donnithorpe, baffled, tugged30 at his thin grey moustache. The porter came up, touching31 his cap.
“Time’s getting on, ma’am. I’ve reserved the two seats——”
“One seat,” said Lady Edna swiftly.
“Beg your pardon, ma’am. I thought you said the gentleman was going with you.”
“One seat. I said I was meeting a gentleman.”
The porter wheeled off the luggage. Lady Edna turned to follow, but her husband gripped her viciously by the wrist.
“Not yet.”
Donnithorpe released her, plunged33 his hand into his breast pocket and drew out a couple of sheets of paper.
“You did say two seats. You meant to go off with him. There’s some damned trickery about it. But I’ve got the whip hand, my lady. Just look at this before you go.”
Lady Edna turned ghastly white and clutched Baltazar’s arm to steady herself from the sickening shock. In the desperate rush, after Godfrey’s departure, the scheming, the packing, the telephoning, the temporary straightening of affairs, the chase over London for the complaisant34 friend whose connivance35 was essential, the eagerness to get free of the house before her husband should return, she had forgotten the scrap36 of paper in her secret drawer, with its obsolete37 information. Now the horror flashed on her. Her husband had gone to the drawer before. Hence the article in Fordyce’s paper. Her first instinct had been right. He had gone to the drawer again. Her swaying brain wondered how he had discovered the secret of the spring. But he had found the paper which in her folly38 she had not destroyed—and what else besides? She heard, as in a dream, her husband saying:
“If he isn’t your lover, what about these? Here’s proof. Here’s a matter of court-martial and gaol39.”
She regained40 her self-control with a great effort, still holding to Baltazar. “You hound!” she whispered.
Baltazar, smitten41 with the realization42 that comedy had vanished—the comedy in which he had played so debonair43 and masterly a part—vanished in the flash of a cinematographic film, and that something very near tragedy was staring him in the face, stretched out his hand for the papers.
“Let me see.”
But Donnithorpe smiled his thin, derisive44 smile. “No. They’re too precious. I’ll hold them for you to look at. Keep away.”
And there, in the airless glass-roofed railway station, on that hot summer afternoon, in the midst of the reverberating45 noises of trains letting off steam, of a thousand human voices, of scurrying46 feet, of grating luggage trunks, in the midst of a small town’s moving and lounging population, surging now, at that hour’s height of the suburban47 traffic with home-going streams; there, with hundreds of eyes to watch them, hundreds of ears to hear them, hundreds of successive ears of people darting48 bee-like around the busy bookstall not ten yards away, there three quietly talking human beings stood at grips with destiny.
“This is written on your notepaper. It is a War Office secret. It reveals the whole strategy of the High Command.”
Baltazar’s lips grew grim and his eyes bent49 on the little man burned like fires. In Donnithorpe’s hands the document was Godfrey’s death warrant.
Then Baltazar remembered the shock he had received in Sheepshanks’s room at Cambridge when first he saw a letter of Godfrey’s, and Godfrey’s after explanation of the identity of their handwriting.
“Don’t you see? It gives the whole thing away,” Donnithorpe continued.
“I’m quite aware of it,” said Baltazar. “I drew it up for your wife.”
“You?” exclaimed Donnithorpe in incredulous amazement50, while Lady Edna caught a sharp breath and clung more fiercely to Baltazar’s arm. “Where did you get your information from?”
“I am to be Minister of the new department in a day or two,” said Baltazar, “and I’m in the inner confidence of the War Cabinet.”
“But it’s in your son’s handwriting!”
“It’s my handwriting,” said Baltazar calmly.
He drew from his pocket a sheaf of notes for a speech and handed them to Donnithorpe. “Compare, if you like.”
“Then you wrote this too?”
Baltazar glanced at it. It was the first sheet of a letter from which the other sheet had been torn. Lady Edna saw it and again swayed, half fainting with sickening humiliation. The only one of Godfrey’s letters—and only part of one—which she had kept: two pages breathing such a passionate51 love as she had never dreamed that a man in real life could express to woman. She had forgotten that she had left that, too, in the secret drawer. She stared haggardly into Baltazar s face. His lips twisted into a smile.
“Yes. I wrote that too,” said he.
“Very possibly,” said Baltazar.
Donnithorpe turned in his rat-like way to his wife.
“What have you to say about it?”
Suddenly recovered from her fit of terror and shame, she withdrew her grip from Baltazar’s arm and held herself up with the scornful poise53 of her head.
“Nothing,” she said. “You can flatter yourself now you know everything.”
He did not heed23 her words, but once more looked from one to the other with a thin, chuckling54 laugh.
“You’re a pretty pair. You, my lady. And you, Mr. Minister of Publicity55. It strikes me you’ll have to postpone56 your elopement.”
“You’ve got elopement on the brain, my good fellow,” said Baltazar. “A Minister of Publicity doesn’t elope with a lady with nothing but what he stands up in. Where’s my luggage?”
“There,” replied Donnithorpe, pointing to the barriers to the platform. “Didn’t the porter say she had ordered two seats—one for a gentleman?”
“This is getting wearisome,” said Lady Edna. “I’ve already told you how the mistake arose.”
The solicitous57 porter, already rewarded with five shillings, and belonging to a race as richly endowed with human failings as any other in the world, hurried up.
“I’ve found a corner seat, ma’am. Put everything into the carriage. You’ve not much time left.”
Suddenly she became aware of the awful desolation that awaited her in the remote cottage in the New Forest with one horrible old servant woman for company. Within her feminine unreason clamoured. No, no! She revolted against the grotesque59 absurdity60 of such comfortless living burial. She would go mad, cut off from every opportunity of hearing instant developments of this nerve-racking situation. She couldn’t stick it.
“I’ve changed my mind, porter. I’m not going. Get my things out and bring them back.”
“Certainly, ma’am.”
The porter ran off. Baltazar thrust his hands again into his trousers’ pockets. His face was a grim mask.
“Don’t be a brainless fool,” said Baltazar.
The fingers in his pockets twitched62, and Lady Edna caught a malevolent63 flash in his eyes that made her shiver. He would have liked to wring64 her neck. Why the devil didn’t she play the game and go to the cottage and the old woman? He read her through and through. And mingled65 with his contempt ran a thrill of gladness. Godfrey was well rid of her.
Donnithorpe cackled at his abjuration66. He turned to Lady Edna.
“You haven’t condescended67 to tell me where you were going.”
“I was going, if you want to know, to stay with Sybil Manning at her little place in the New Forest.”
“Indeed?” said her husband, in his rasping voice, and a gleam of triumph sparkled in his crafty68 eyes. “Now it happens that I, not being quite the fool you and Mr. Baltazar have thought me, rang up Lady Manning. It was the first thing I did when I read your letter. I knew you would bolt, straight to her. I’ve often thought of bringing in a Bill in Parliament to deprive her of existence. She answered me herself. She had heard nothing of you, knew nothing of you.”
“Naturally,” she said jeeringly69. “But,” she added, carrying the war into enemy’s quarters, “she knows everything about you. Everything, my friend. So will the Prime Minister.”
“I was with the Prime Minister this morning,” said Donnithorpe. “I told him all about my Saturday evening’s effort in the cause of solidarity70. We parted the best of friends, and my position is secure.”
“What about Fordyce’s article this morning?”
“This morning I couldn’t conceive how the fellow had got the information. This evening or to-morrow morning”—he tapped his breast pocket—“if I am asked, I can point to a dual71 source of leakage72.”
“Of us two,” said Baltazar, “it strikes me that you are the damnder scoundrel.”
“What you think is a matter of perfect indifference75 to me,” retorted Donnithorpe. “What does interest me is the fact that my wife was going to stay with Lady Manning in the New Forest while Lady Manning is in London, and that when I find her here with you, she decides not to go to the New Forest after all.”
Lady Edna flushed angrily. She was out-man?uvred, outclassed, beaten on all sides by the thin grey man whom she despised. She had acted like a brainless, immoral76 schoolgirl.
“Where do you propose to go now?” asked Donnithorpe.
She spat77 her venom78 at him. “Anywhere to get out of the sight of you. Yes, I was going alone to Sybil Manning’s cottage. I had just left her when you telephoned. I wanted to get as far away from you as I could and from the disgusting impressions of the last few days. Now the whole thing would be spoiled by this abominable79 insult. I shall stay with my mother to-night and go down to Moulsford to-morrow.”
“I’m glad,” replied Donnithorpe acidly, “you’re not thinking of returning to my house. I’m not going to have any plea of condonation80.”
“No, he shan’t. You shall go in my car.”
Baltazar, in a cold fury, stood over him threateningly.
“You stay here,” said he, “or by the living God I’ll half kill you!”
He caught up Lady Edna and followed with her in the wake of the porter.
He felt merciless towards her, murderous. “You let that boy alone, do you hear? You’ve come within a hair’s-breadth of blasting his life. It remains84 yet to be seen whether that hair’s-breadth will save him——”
“I’d do anything in my power——” she began.
“For God’s sake stop doing things. Hold your tongue. You’ve been criminal in your piling folly on folly. You’ve done enough.”
“But you——?”
“I can take care of myself—and the boy, if you keep quiet. You’ve got to remember the position. I’m your lover. Avowed before your husband by both of us—you implicitly85. You’re not to lose sight of that fact. Understand? If you hold any communication with Godfrey, you’ll get him court-martialled. Disgraced, probably imprisoned87. And then, by God! I won’t have any pity on you.”
Talking thus they reached the outer platform of the station and waited while the porter secured a taxi. She whispered, for they were brushed by the throng of passengers arriving and departing:
“If Edgar brings a divorce action——? He’s vindictive88——”
“He’ll bring no action, if you stop playing the fool. I’d advise you not to interfere89 with my game.”
The porter swung from the step of the taxi bringing a new arrival, and as soon as the latter, a young officer with a suit-case, had alighted and paid his fare, he piled in Lady Edna’s belongings90. She entered the cab very white and scared. Godfrey had told her enough about his father for her to realize the unyielding nature of the man. She was terrified, cowed. He blazed before her irresistibly91 elemental. . . . She carried away with her a blurred92 impression of his thatch93 of brown hair coarse and strong like the crown of some relentless94 beast as he lifted his hat when the taxi drove off. She shuddered95, and hated him.
Baltazar let himself into the house in Sussex Gardens, and went straight to Godfrey’s room. He found him writing hard. When the young man sprang up, his quiet eye noted96 the desk strewn with many sheets of notepaper.
“Writing to her, I suppose.”
“Where are you going to address it?”
Godfrey, looking into the infernal eyes, saw that it was not an idle and impertinent question. Besides, he had spent a very agitated98 hour, gnawed99 by bitter disappointment and impotent anger and torturing his brain with conjecture100 as to what had happened.
“Where is Lady Edna, sir?” he asked.
“She has gone to stay with Lady Ralston.”
“Her mother?”
“The Dowager Countess of Ralston is, I believe, her mother,” said Baltazar.
He threw himself into a chair and mopped his forehead.
“Why the devil don’t you open a window?”
“I didn’t notice,” said Godfrey, and went and threw up the sash.
It was a cosy101 room at the back of the house, the smoking den25 of the late dead owner, furnished with green leather arm-chairs drawn102 up at each end of a green leather-covered fender-seat, with a great green leather-cushioned Chesterfield, with solid comfortable mahogany tables, writing-desk and bookcases. On the walls hung well-framed old engravings of solid worth, and Godfrey had added a little armoury of war trophies103, Hun helmets, rifles, flare104 pistols, gas-masks, bayonets, gleaming shell cases of all sizes, a framed blood-stained letter or two in German script. . . . A cosy room more suitable for a winter’s evening than a close summer afternoon. Baltazar filled his lungs with the fresher air.
“That’s better,” said he.
Godfrey stood by the fireplace, his face set and unyielding.
“Perhaps you might tell me, sir, what has happened. What brought Donnithorpe to the station?”
“The hope of catching you, my son, in flagrante delicto of elopement.”
“Quong Ho was sure that he wanted you.”
“Quong Ho made a mistake. Donnithorpe was exceedingly surprised to find me.”
There was a long pause, during which Baltazar bent his disconcerting and luminous105 gaze on the young man.
“Godfrey,” he said at last, “what made you such an infatuated fool as to give away War Office secrets in writing to that woman?”
“What do you mean?”
“It can’t be! It can’t possibly be! Only this morning she told me she had destroyed it.”
“She lied, my son,” said Baltazar.
“But she knew it was my honour, my everything——”
“Of course she did. Do you suppose that matters to her?”
Godfrey repeated in a dazed way: “There must be some mistake. She told me she had destroyed it.”
“Well, she didn’t,” said Baltazar. “She kept it—to gratify some vanity or ambition. I don’t know. Our talk was too concentrated to divagate into motives109. Anyway, care for your honour didn’t affect her. She left it about, and Edgar Donnithorpe has got it and means to use it.”
The distracted young man sat down, his head in his hands, and groaned110. “My God! That’s the end of me.”
Baltazar deliberately111 filled and lit a pipe, and said nothing. Better let the consequences of the lady’s betrayal soak in. . . . Presently Godfrey rose to his feet and his face was haggard.
“I’ll go to Donnithorpe and get it back. He daren’t show it. It’ll be accusing himself of giving away the information to The Morning Gazette.”
But Baltazar held him with his inscrutable eyes.
“You’re a brilliant soldier, my son, but you’re no match for a foxy old politician—a past master of dirty craft. He put himself right with the Prime Minister this morning. Besides, there’s the lady to be considered—not that I think she deserves much consideration. Still, it’s a convention of honour.”
Godfrey flashed: “I’m not going to bring her name into it!”
“He will. He’ll get the whole story out of you.”
“What the devil am I to do?” asked Godfrey with a helpless gesture.
Baltazar rose. “My boy,” said he, “in two or three days’ time they’re going to make me, a man suddenly sprung from nowhere, a Minister of the Crown. That shows I’m not altogether a silly fool.”
In spite of the welter of disillusion112 and catastrophe113 in which the boy foundered114, he detected in his father’s voice the pathetic, apologetic note which he had never been able to resist, the note conveying his father’s yearning115 desire to make good in his eyes.
“You know I’m proud of you, sir,” he said. “Which is a lot more,” he added with a break in his voice, “than you can say of me.”
Baltazar put his arm round his son’s shoulders very tenderly.
“My boy,” said he, “I’d give my life for you.” And the young man hung his head. “The only thing is, will you trust me?”
Ten minutes afterwards Baltazar, cheery and confident, stood at the door preparing to depart from a chastened though more hopeful Godfrey. Love had conquered. What had passed between his father and the Donnithorpes the boy did not know. Of his father’s assumption of the part of indiscreet lover he had no suspicion. But his father had fascinated him, dominated his will, evoked116 in him a blind, unquestioning confidence, compelled from him a promise of implicit86 obedience117. Of course there were conditions. He was to petition the War Office to be allowed to sacrifice his leave and start for France, at the earliest opportunity, the next day if possible. He was not to communicate with Lady Edna until his return to England, whenever that might be. He gave the latter undertaking118 readily, her lie rankling119 in his heart, her callous120 disregard of his honour monstrous121 in its incomprehensibility. Whatever might be his revulsion of feeling afterwards—and his clear young brain grappled with the possibility—whatever might be his unregenerate torment122 of longing58, he accepted the condition as his punishment. She, so his father said, was bound by the same condition. . . . Baltazar stood by the door.
“It’s all damned hard, old man, I know. But you’ll worry through. It’s the English way.”
He walked out, humming “Tipperary” out of tune123, the only modern air he knew, and ascended124 the stairs and thrust his head into the drawing-room. There, as he expected, he found a desolate125 Marcelle, who, throwing down the book which she was trying to read, jumped up and ran to the door. What had happened? Quong Ho had told her of Edgar Donnithorpe’s call. Godfrey was in black anger against her.
“Go down,” said he, “and make your peace with him. You’ll stay and dine. I must go now and finish my work before dinner.”
He left her and, still humming “Tipperary,” entered his library, where Quong Ho was patiently and efficiently126 working at the proofs.
“Miss Baring and Captain Godfrey have upbraided127 me for indiscretion in that I informed Mr. Donnithorpe of your whereabouts,” said Quong Ho.
“The best day’s work you ever did in your life,” said Baltazar, seating himself at the table and taking up his pen.
The dinner was not quite the success for which Baltazar had hoped, in spite of his efforts to set a tone of light-hearted gaiety. His best champagne128 flowed to little purpose. Godfrey acknowledged the toast to his promotion129 and appointment with irreproachable130 politeness and lamentable131 lack of fervour. Marcelle confessed afterwards that she had never sat through so unjoyous a meal. To make her peace with Godfrey had been no easy matter. It was but an armistice132 that she had patched up. Twice that day had he been betrayed by women, and he felt sore against an untrustworthy sex. He had admitted her not an inch further into his confidence. Of the incriminating scrap of paper he told her nothing. She sat at the table puzzled and unhappy. Quong Ho ate philosophically133 when he was not drinking in the words of wisdom that came from the master’s lips.
They broke up early. Godfrey retired134 to his room. Quong Ho departed to the printers to correct the proof of the editorial. Baltazar walked home with Marcelle: a somewhat silent and miserable135 little journey. In vain he assured her that she had been Godfrey’s salvation136. She only realized that the boy’s faith in her had gone. Of the extent of the salvation he, like Godfrey, said nothing. The position for the moment was too delicate and grotesque to be told to another person—even to Marcelle, and his forthrightness137 scorned half confidences. He walked back disappointed, ever so little depressed138. Hadn’t he told everybody to put their trust in him and worry their heads no more about the matter? And they were worrying considerably139.
At the end of the passage beyond the hall he saw a streak140 of light signifying that Godfrey’s door was ajar. He went down, opened the door and looked in. There was Godfrey, huddled141 up on the Chesterfield, his head in his hands, his fingers clutching his crisp fair hair. As he seemed unaware142 of intrusion, Baltazar closed the door quietly and tiptoed away. No one knew better than he that every man must go through his little Gethsemane alone. But the pity of it! He crept upstairs with an aching heart. Papers by the last post in connection with the new ministry143 lay on his desk. He sat down and tried to deal with them; but at last abandoned them and sucked a gloomy pipe. Had he saved the boy after all? Would the woman hold her tongue? Was Donnithorpe such a fool as to believe his story? Meanwhile he was the avowed lover of the detested144 woman and the betrayer of official secrets. And the vindictive little rat held the proofs. What use was he going to make of them?
Yet the situation had a grimly humorous aspect. If he had not seen the boy huddled up in grief and shame downstairs he would have envisaged145 it with one of his great laughs. . . .
The next day passed quietly. Godfrey was absent till the evening. He had been to the War Office and arranged to leave for France on the morrow by the staff train. An agreeable evening was marred146 by no reference to Lady Edna or the scrap of paper. They spoke147 of books and mathematics and the war and the probable scope of Godfrey’s duties.
Only when they shook hands for the night did Godfrey say:
“I think, sir, you’re the best father that ever a man had.”
And Baltazar, with gladness leaping into his eyes and a grin on his face, replied:
“God knows I try to be.”
On the following morning the post brought him a letter from Donnithorpe’s solicitors149. Would Mr. Baltazar make an appointment to meet Mr. Donnithorpe and themselves, at his earliest convenience, on a matter of very serious importance? He bade Quong Ho ring up and fix the appointment for three o’clock that afternoon.
“No,” said Baltazar in his grand self-confidence. “Damn lawyers.”
When the long train moved out of Charing150 Cross station amid the waving of handkerchiefs and hats, he drew a breath of unutterable relief. As far as God would allow, the boy was safe. Safe, at any rate, from the woman with whom he had pledged his honour not to communicate while he was in France. And the boy would keep his word. He had been disentangled from the imbroglio151. It was all that mattered. He made his powerful, almost ruthless way through the sobered crowd of lately cheerful friends seeing off those dear to them, almost heedless of the streaming eyes of women who but a moment ago had been so brave and smiling. He was unique among them. His son was not seeking, but escaping death.
Jubilant he walked across the station yard, up Cockspur Street and Pall152 Mall. He felt strong—nay, more—all-powerful. A force before which all the rats of Donnithorpes and lawyers in the world must crumble153. He had no plan; no idea how he should counter Donnithorpe’s machinations. He had been accustomed all his life long to wait for the perilous154 moment and then get in his grip. He had glorious faith in his destiny. His and Godfrey’s. The destiny of the House of Baltazar. The war over, Godfrey would find some sweet English girl and marry her; and there would be a son to carry on the torch and hand it, in his turn, to the next generation. Striding up St. James’s Street, he saw the babe; made calculations of dates. He would last at least till seventy-five. The grandson then would be on the verge155 of manhood. . . . He laughed. Odd that he should have lived for fifty years before dreaming of the continuance of his race. Those infernal years in China! He cursed them. Never mind. If he had gone on in the humdrum156 certainty of the perpetuation157 of his name he would have missed the present glory of the conception. It was a wonderful world.
He lunched at his club with Weatherley and Burtenshaw, optimistic to gasconade, prophesying158 the speedy end of the war; then the millennium159; the world ruled by Anglo-Saxon fibre of brain and body inspired by Latin nervous force—the combination towards which civilization had been groping for centuries. At ten minutes to three he waved them farewell and drove in a taxi to his appointment in Bedford Row.
He was shown into a room where Edgar Donnithorpe and an impassive elderly man with a face like a horse awaited him. He felt that he entered like an irresistible160 force.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
traitor
|
|
| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
idiocy
|
|
| n.愚蠢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
mingling
|
|
| adj.混合的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
throng
|
|
| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
civilians
|
|
| 平民，百姓( civilian的名词复数 )； 老百姓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
fuming
|
|
| 愤怒( fume的现在分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
farce
|
|
| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
snarl
|
|
| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
snarled
|
|
| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
humiliation
|
|
| n.羞辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
retirement
|
|
| n.退休，退职 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
sylvan
|
|
| adj.森林的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
turpitude
|
|
| n.可耻；邪恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
avowed
|
|
| adj.公开声明的，承认的v.公开声明，承认( avow的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
ironical
|
|
| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
fawn
|
|
| n.未满周岁的小鹿；v.巴结，奉承 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
defiant
|
|
| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
heed
|
|
| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
exasperating
|
|
| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
den
|
|
| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
sneering
|
|
| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
absolve
|
|
| v.赦免，解除（责任等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
imperative
|
|
| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
bantering
|
|
| adj.嘲弄的v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的现在分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
tugged
|
|
| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
growled
|
|
| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
complaisant
|
|
| adj.顺从的，讨好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
connivance
|
|
| n.纵容；默许 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
scrap
|
|
| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
obsolete
|
|
| adj.已废弃的，过时的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
gaol
|
|
| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
regained
|
|
| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
smitten
|
|
| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
realization
|
|
| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
debonair
|
|
| adj.殷勤的，快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
derisive
|
|
| adj.嘲弄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
reverberating
|
|
| 回响，回荡( reverberate的现在分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
scurrying
|
|
| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
suburban
|
|
| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
darting
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
villain
|
|
| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
poise
|
|
| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
chuckling
|
|
| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
publicity
|
|
| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
postpone
|
|
| v.延期，推迟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
solicitous
|
|
| adj.热切的，挂念的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
grotesque
|
|
| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
absurdity
|
|
| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
sneered
|
|
| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
twitched
|
|
| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
malevolent
|
|
| adj.有恶意的，恶毒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
wring
|
|
| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
abjuration
|
|
| n.发誓弃绝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
condescended
|
|
| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
crafty
|
|
| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
jeeringly
|
|
| adv.嘲弄地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
solidarity
|
|
| n.团结；休戚相关 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
dual
|
|
| adj.双的；二重的，二元的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
leakage
|
|
| n.漏，泄漏；泄漏物；漏出量 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
intriguer
|
|
| 密谋者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
74
triumphant
|
|
| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
immoral
|
|
| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
spat
|
|
| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
venom
|
|
| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
abominable
|
|
| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
condonation
|
|
| n.容忍，宽恕，原谅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
81
haughtily
|
|
| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
implicitly
|
|
| adv. 含蓄地, 暗中地, 毫不保留地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
implicit
|
|
| a.暗示的，含蓄的，不明晰的，绝对的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
imprisoned
|
|
| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
vindictive
|
|
| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
belongings
|
|
| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
irresistibly
|
|
| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
blurred
|
|
| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
thatch
|
|
| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
relentless
|
|
| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
shuddered
|
|
| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
hostility
|
|
| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
gnawed
|
|
| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
conjecture
|
|
| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
cosy
|
|
| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
trophies
|
|
| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
flare
|
|
| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
luminous
|
|
| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
gasped
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
disastrous
|
|
| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
passionately
|
|
| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
motives
|
|
| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
groaned
|
|
| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
disillusion
|
|
| vt.使不再抱幻想，使理想破灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
catastrophe
|
|
| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
foundered
|
|
| v.创始人( founder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
yearning
|
|
| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
evoked
|
|
| [医]诱发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
obedience
|
|
| n.服从，顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
undertaking
|
|
| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
rankling
|
|
| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
callous
|
|
| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
monstrous
|
|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
torment
|
|
| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
tune
|
|
| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
ascended
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
efficiently
|
|
| adv.高效率地，有能力地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
upbraided
|
|
| v.责备，申斥，谴责( upbraid的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
champagne
|
|
| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
promotion
|
|
| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
irreproachable
|
|
| adj.不可指责的，无过失的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
lamentable
|
|
| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
armistice
|
|
| n.休战，停战协定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
philosophically
|
|
| adv.哲学上；富有哲理性地；贤明地；冷静地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
salvation
|
|
| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
forthrightness
|
|
| 正直 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
depressed
|
|
| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
considerably
|
|
| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
streak
|
|
| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
huddled
|
|
| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
unaware
|
|
| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
ministry
|
|
| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
detested
|
|
| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
envisaged
|
|
| 想像，设想( envisage的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
marred
|
|
| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
solicitor
|
|
| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
solicitors
|
|
| 初级律师( solicitor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
charing
|
|
| n.炭化v.把…烧成炭，把…烧焦( char的现在分词 )；烧成炭，烧焦；做杂役女佣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
imbroglio
|
|
| n.纷乱，纠葛，纷扰，一团糟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
pall
|
|
| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
crumble
|
|
| vi.碎裂，崩溃；vt.弄碎，摧毁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
perilous
|
|
| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
verge
|
|
| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
humdrum
|
|
| adj.单调的，乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
perpetuation
|
|
| n.永存，不朽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
prophesying
|
|
| v.预告，预言( prophesy的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
millennium
|
|
| n.一千年，千禧年；太平盛世 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
irresistible
|
|
| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |