“Nearly threw up his part in The Poisoned Kiss,” said Teddy afterwards, at the club, “when he discovered 206that it was to be a sixteenth-century production; took me aside, and told me in confidence afterwards, that if he’d been allowed to play Hermango in gray suède tops with black pearl buttons and patent leather uppers, the piece would have been a colossal19 monetary20, as well as artistic21, success.”
“Schwerlich! Who konn bretend to follow de workings of a mind like dot jung man’s,” said Oscar Gormleigh, “vidout de assisdance of de migroscope? Und hof I not known a brima donna degline to go on for Siebel begause she hodd been kifen brown insdead of violet tights? It vas a tam gonsbiracy, she svore py all her kodds! In prown legs she vould groak like von frog mit kvinsy—mit violet she always varble like de nachtigall. De choke of it vas”—the talented stage-director laid a hairy finger archly against his Teutonic nose—“dat voman always groak—not never varble—tights or no tights!”
“De Boo is a rank bounder,” said Candelish decidedly.
“He has pounded from de ranks,” pronounced Gormleigh, “und he vill go on pounding—each pound so motch higher dan de last von, oontil he drop splosh into de kutter akain. He who now oggupies a svell mansion-flat in Biccadilly, ach ja!—he vill end vere he bekan—in de liddle krubby sit-bedding-room over de shabby shop vere dey let out segond hond boogs on hire mit segond hond furnidure.”
Mrs. Gudrun would have been deeply incensed22 had she heard this unlicensed expression of opinion from one whom she had always kept in his place as a paid underling. For six nights and a matinée she had, in the character of Aldapora, elected to poison herself in the most painful manner rather than incur23 the loss of De Boo’s affections, and, with the “true histrionic inwardness” so belauded by the Theatrical Piffer, she had identified 207herself with the part. So she took a blazing comet flight to Paris with the actor in her train, and paragraphs announcing their arrival at the Hotel Spitz appeared in the London papers.
“Listen to this, Jane Ann,” said the paternal24 De Boo, whose name was Boodie—and when I add that for twenty years the worthy25 father had been employed as one of the principal cutters at Toecaps and Heels, that celebrated26 firm of West-End bootmakers, it will be understood whence the son obtained his boots. “To think,” Mr. Boodie continued, “that Alfred—our Alfred, who sp’iled every particle of leather he set his knife to, and couldn’t stitch a welt or strap27 a seam to save his life—should ever have lived to be called a rising genius!”
“The ways of Providence28 are wonderful, father!” returned the said Alfred’s mother dutifully. Mrs. Boodie was an experienced finisher herself, and had always lamented29 Alfred’s lack of “turn” in the family direction. “An’, if I was you, I wouldn’t mention that bit in the paper to Aphasia30 Cutts. She’s dreadful jealous over our Alfred, even now, though he hasn’t bin32 to see ‘er or wrote for two years. As good as a break off, I should a-regarded it, ’ad I bin in her place. But she’s different to what I was.”
“So are all the gals,” said Mr. Boodie with conviction, bestowing33 upon his wife a salute34 flavored with Russia leather and calf35.
“Well, I’m sure. Go along, father, do!” said Mrs. Boodie, with a delighted shove.
But of course Aphasia—so christened by an ambitious mother in defiance36 of the expostulations of a timid curate—had already seen and cried over the paragraph. She had loved Alfred and stood up for him when he was a plain, stupid boy with an unconquerable aversion to work. She had been his champion when he grew up, no longer plain, but as pronounced a loafer as ever. She 208had given up, in exchange for his loutish37 affections, the love of an honest and hard-working man.
“I can’t ’elp it!” she had said; “you can get on without me, and Alfred can’t, pore chap. His Par18 calls ’im a waster—I believe ’e’d give ’im the strap if ’e wasn’t six foot ’igh. But I’ve got ’im an opening in the theatrical line, through a friend of mine as does fancy braiding at Buskin’s, the stage shoemaker’s in Covent Garden. It’s only to walk on as one of the Giant’s boy-babies in the Drury Lane panto.—eighteen pence a night and matinées—but his Mar38 will be thankful. If only ’is legs are long enough for the part——”
They were, and from that hour Alfred had embarked39 on a career. When entrusted40 with a line to speak, it was Aphasia who held the grimy slip of paper on which it was written and aided the would-be actor with counsel and advice.
“And ’old up your ’ead, do, as if you was proud of yourself, and don’t bend at the knees; and whether you remember your words or not, throw ’em out from your chest as if you was proud of ’em. An’ move your arms from the shoulder like as if you was swimmin’—don’t crook41 your elbers like a wooden doll. And throw a bit o’ meanin’ into your eye. You took me to see that Frenchman, Cocklin ’e calls ’imself; as played the chap with the boko ’e wouldn’t let the other chaps make game of.... French or Japanese, they’re both Dutch to me, but I watched Cocklin’s eye, and I watched ’is ’ands, an’ I could foller the story as if it was print, an’ plainer. I’ve went to see an actor since what folks said was a great artis’, and if ’e did talk English, ’is eye was as dumb as a boiled fresh ’addock’s an’ ’s ’ands was like slices of skate. Now say your bit over again.”
And Alfred said it, this time to the satisfaction of his instructress. When he got a real part Aphasia coached him, and rode down from Hammersmith with 209him on the bus, and was waiting for him at the stage-door when he came out, the tears of joy undried on her pale cheeks. And that was the night upon which she first noticed a coldness in the manner of her betrothed42.
“An’ now I’m not good enough for him to wipe his boots on,” she sobbed43, sitting on her bed in the single room lodging44 off the roaring, clanging Broadway—“the boots ’is Par cut an’ welted, an’ ’is Mar stitched, an’ I finished. But I won’t stand in ’is light. I’ve my pride, if I am a boot-finisher. I’ll see that Mrs. What’s-her-name face to face, an’ ’ave it out as woman to woman, an’ tell ’er she’s welcome to marry ’im for me.”
And Aphasia dried her poor red eyes and took off Alfred’s betrothal45 ring—a fifteen-carat gold circlet with three real garnets, bought in the Broadway one blushful, blissful Saturday night—and evicted46 his photographs from their gorgeous cheap frames, and made a brown-paper parcel of these things, with a yellow leather purse with a blue enamel47 “A” on it, and tied it up with string.
Perhaps something of her fateful mood was telepathically conveyed to Mr. Leo De Boo at that moment, for he shivered as he sat at the feet of Mrs. Gudrun upon the balcony of a private suite48 at the Hotel Spitz, and turned up eyes that were large and lustrous49 at that imperishable image of Beauty, exhaling50 clouds of fashionable perfume and upborne on billows of chiffon and lace. Mrs. Gudrun, who naturally mistook the spasms51 of a genuine plebeian52 British conscience for the pangs53 of love, lent him her hand—dazzlingly white, astonishingly manicured, jeweled to the knuckles54, and polished by the devout55 kisses of generations of worshipers—and De Boo mumbled56 it, and tried to be grateful and talk beautifully about his acting. But this bored Mrs. Gudrun, who preferred to talk about her own.
“I have often felt that myself,” she said—“the conviction 210that a crowded audience hung upon my lips and saw only with my eyes, and that I swayed them as with a magic thingumbob, by the power of a magnetic personality.”
“It is a mystery,” said De Boo, passing his long fingers through his clustering curls, “that once in a century or so a man should be born——”
“Or a woman. Marvelous!” agreed Mrs. Gudrun. “Marvelous! the man who runs the Daily Tomahawk said that when I made my first appearance on the stage.”
“Genius is a crown of fire,” said De Boo, who had read this somewhere. “It illuminates57 the world, yet scorches58 the wearer to the bone. He——”
“She suffers,” said Mrs. Gudrun, neatly59 stopping the ball and playing it on her side. “You may bet she suffers. Hasn’t she got the artistic temperament60? The amount of worry mine has given me you would never believe. Cluffer, of the Morning Whooper, calls me a ‘consolidated bundle of screaming nerves.’ When I’ve sat down to dinner on the eve of a first night, De Petoburgh—you’ve met the Duke?—has had to hold me in my chair while Bobby Bolsover gave me champagne and Angostura out of the soup-ladle. And I believe I bit a piece out of that. And afterwards—ask ’em both if I wasn’t fairly esquinte.”
“But the possessor of an artistic temperament—such as mine—even though the fairy gift entails61 the keenest susceptibility to anguish,” quickly continued De Boo, “enjoys unspeakable compensation in the revelation to him alone of a kingdom which others may not enter. Looking upon the high mountains in the blush of dawn, I have shouted aloud with glee——”
“The first time I ever went into a southern Italian orange-grove in full bloom,” acquiesced62 Mrs. Gudrun, “the Prince of Kursaal Carle Monto, who was with me, 211simply sat down flat. He said Titian ought to have been alive to paint my face and form against that background.... By the way, the first act of that new play, the title of which I’ve forgotten, and which I’ve leased from a scribbling63 idiot whose name don’t signify, takes place in a blooming orange-grove. I’ve cast you for the leading man’s part, Leo, and I hope you will be properly grateful for the chance, and conquer that nasty habit you have of standing64 leering at the audience in all my great moments.”
“Dearest lady,” De Boo argued glibly65, “does it not increase the dramatic poignancy66 of such moments if the spectators are enabled to read in the varying expressions pictured on my face the feelings your art inspires?”
But Mrs. Gudrun was inexorable. “They can read ’em in the back of your head if they’re anxious,” said she, “or they can take the direct tip from me. I hope that’s good enough. I don’t see the cherry-bun of running a theater to be scored off by other people, and so you know! And now that’s settled, let us go and have stuffed oysters67 and roast ices at Noel Peter’s, and see Sarah afterwards in her new tragedy r?le. I’m the only woman she’s really afraid of, you know, and I feel I’m bound to romp69 in in front of her before long. She says herself that acting like mine cannot be taught in a conservatoire, and that I constitute a complete school in myself. Have you ever seen me play Lady Teazle?”
“Unhappily I have not. It is a loss,” said De Boo, “a distinct loss. By the way, when I scored so tremendously as Charles Surface at Mudderpool——”
“Hell is full of men who have scored as Charles Surface at Mudderpool,” said Mrs. Gudrun crushingly. “That sounds like a quotation, doesn’t it? Only it must be mine, because I never read. You’re a charming 212fellow, and a clever boy, Leo, but, as a friend, let me tell you that you talk too much about yourself. It’s bad form; and the truly great are invariably the truly modest. I must save up that epigram for my next interview, I think. There’s the auto-brougham.”
And De Boo enfolded the renowned70 form of his manageress in a point lace and sable71 wrap, and they went off to Noel Peter’s, and saw La Gr-r-ande perform.
Rehearsals73 of the new play, Pride of Race, at the Sceptre had scarcely commenced when in upon Teddy Candelish, laboriously74 smoking in his sanctum and opening the morning’s mail, swept Mrs. Gudrun.
“I haven’t a moment to breathe,” she said imperially, accepting the chair Teddy acrobatically vacated. “Come in, De Petoburgh—come in, Bobby; you are in the way, but I’m used to it. No, De Petoburgh, that cellaret’s tabooed; remember what Sir Henry said to you about liqueurs before lunch. Are there any letters of importance, Teddy, to my cheek?”
“Several bundles of press-cuttings from different firms, thirty or forty bills, a few tenders from photographers, and—and some love-letters,” replied Candelish, pointing to some neat piles of correspondence arranged on the American roll-top desk. “Usual thing—declarations, proposals, and so forth75.”
“Always plenty of those—hey?” chuckled76 De Petoburgh, sucking a perfunctory peptoid lozenge in lieu of the stimulant77 denied.
“Plenty, b’Jove!” echoed Bobby Bolsover.
“Not so many as there used to be,” responded Candelish with tactless truthfulness78, rewarded by the lady with a magnificent glare. “By the way, there’s one odd letter, from a girl or a woman who isn’t quite a lady, asking for an interview on private business. Signs 213herself by the rummiest name—Aphasia Cutts.” He presented the letter.
“Aphasia?” said Mrs. Gudrun, extending heavily jeweled fingers for the missive. “Isn’t that what De Petoburgh has when he can only order drinks in one syllable79 and his legs take him where he doesn’t want to go? Eh, Bobby?”
“Yes; but remindin’ the Duke of that always brings on an attack,” said Bobby solicitously80. “Look at him twitchin’ now.... Steady, Peto! Woa-a, old mannums!”
“Take him for a tatta while I finish the rehearsal72,” commanded Mrs. Gudrun, rising from Teddy’s chair in an upsurge of expensive draperies. “Write to this Aphasia girl, Teddy, and say I’ll see her to-morrow, between three and four p. m. After all, the whole-souled adoration81 of one’s own sex is worth having,” the lady said, as, heralded82 by the rustling83 of silken robes, the barbaric clash of jeweled ornaments84, and wafts85 of fashionable perfume, she sailed back to the boards.
When Aphasia got her reply, p.p. Teddy, some hours later, there was very little of whole-souled adoration in her reception of the missive.
“I s’pose she looks on me as the dirt under her feet, like Alfred. But I won’t let that put me off makin’ the sacrifice that’s for his good—the ungrateful thing! I ’ope she’ll make ’im a nice wife, that’s all,” she sobbed, as she took from her collar-and-cuff drawer the flat brown-paper parcel containing the garnet ring, the photographs, and the letters. And she dressed herself in her best, with a large lace collar over a cloth jacket, and the once fashionable low-necked pneumonia-blouse, to which the girls of her class so fondly cling, and went to meet the lady whom, in terms borrowed from the latest penny romance, she called her “haughty rival.”
Mrs. Gudrun received her with excessive graciousness. 214A costume rehearsal was in progress, and the lady was in the hands of her maids and dressers. “I suppose this is the first time you have ever been behind the scenes?” she inquired. “Look about you as much as you like, and then you will be able to say to your friends: ‘I have been in Mrs. Gudrun’s dressing-room.’ You see, I am in the gown I wear in the first act. It is by Babin; and if you write for a ladies’ paper, you will remember to say so, please.”
“I don’t write for any ladies’ paper,” said Aphasia. “I couldn’t spell well enough—not if they ast me ever so. But it’s a lovely gownd, and I suppose all that stuff on your face is what makes you look so young an’ ’andsome—from a long way off.”
Mrs. Gudrun’s famous features assumed a look of cold displeasure. She assumed the majestic86 air that suited her so eminently87 well, and asked the young person’s business.
“It’s quite private, and I’ll thank you to send away your maids, if you’ve no objection,” said the dauntless Aphasia. “The fact is,” she continued, when the indignant menials had been waved from the apartment, “as I’ve come to make you a present—a present of a young man——”
“Look here, my good young woman,” began the incensed manageress.
Aphasia suddenly handed her the brown-paper parcel, and the wrath88 of Mrs. Gudrun was turned to trembling. She was sure this was an escaped lunatic. Aphasia profited by the lull89 in the storm to explain. She had come to hand over her Alfred—stock, goodwill90, and fixtures91. He had forgotten to be off with the old love before he went on with the new, but the old love bore no malice92. All was now over.
“And you may marry ’im whenever you like,” sobbed Aphasia.
215“I never heard anything so indecent in the whole course of my life,” said Mrs. Gudrun, rising in offended majesty93. “Marry Mr. De Boo, indeed! If I had married every leading man I’ve played love-scenes with since I adopted this profession, I should be a female Brigham Young! ‘In love with me!’ Perhaps he is; it’s rather a common complaint among the men I know. As for Mr. De Boo, if he has low connections and vulgar entanglements94, they are nothing to me. Good-day! Stop! You had better take this parcel of rubbish with you. Dawkins—the stage-door!”
And Aphasia found herself being ushered95 along the passage. Bewildered and dazzled by the glaring lights, the excitement and the strangeness, she ran almost into the arms of De Boo himself as he emerged from his dressing-room next the manageress’s. Had he overheard? There had been a curtained-over door on that side. Under his paint his handsome features were black with rage; he caught the girl’s shoulders in a furious grip, and spluttered in her ear:
“Damn you! Damn you, you sneaking96 creature! You have made a pretty mess of things for me—haven’t you?—with your blab about my father and the boot-business, and my letters and the ring I gave you. To my dying day I’ll never speak to you again!”
Aphasia stood outside the theater and shook with sobs98. It chanced—or did not chance, so queer are the vagaries99 of Destiny—that Ulick Snowle, the president of the New Stage-Door Club, happened to be passing; he had just called in at the box-office to privately100 book the first three rows of the upper circle on behalf of the club, the Old Stage-Doorers having secured the gallery. Both clubs were originally one, the Old Stage-Doorers having thrown off the younger club as the cuttlefish101 gets rid of the supernumerary limb which in time becomes 216another cuttlefish. And the unwritten compact between both clubs is that if one applauds a new production, the other shall execrate102 the same—an arrangement which contributes hugely to the liveliness of first-nights.
No uninitiated person beholding103 Ulick, with his shaggy beard, aged68 felt-basin hat of Continental104 make, short nautical105 coat, and tight-fitting sporting trousers, would suppose him to be the great personage he really is. He came up to Aphasia, and bluntly asked her what was the matter, and if he couldn’t do something? In her overwhelming woe106 and desolation, she was like the soda-water bottle of the glass-ball-stoppered description—once push in the stopper, there is no arresting the escape of the a?rated fluid. She told the sympathizing Ulick all before he put her into the Hammersmith bus, and when he would have handed in the fateful brown-paper parcel—“Keep it,” she said, with a gesture of aversion. “Burn it—chuck the thing in the dustbin. They’re no manner o’ use to me!” And away she rattled107, leaving Ulick Snowle upon the pavement, in his hands an engine of destruction meet to be used in the extermination108 of the unfittest.
For the New Stage-Door Club did not love Mr. Leo De Boo, whose manner to old friends—whom he had often led around street corners and relieved of half-crowns—did not improve with his worldly prospects109. And Ulick stood and meditated110 while the double torrent111 of the London traffic went roaring east and west; and as a charitable old lady was about to press a penny into his hand, Tom Glauber, the dandy president of the Old Stage-Doorers, came along, and the men greeted cordially. Von Glauber seemed interested in something that Ulick had to tell, and the two went off very confidentially112, arm-in-arm.
“It would be a sensation if, for once, the O.S.D.’s and the N.S.D.’s acted in unison,” agreed Tom Glauber.
217And on the night when Pride of Race was produced at the Sceptre, both clubs attended in full strength, every man with a crook-handled walking-stick, and a parcel buttoned under his coat. The piece had just concluded a run of three hundred nights, and every reader is acquainted with the plot, which is of modern Italy and Rome of to-day, to quote the programme. We all know how the young Marchese di Monte Polverino, in whose veins113 ran the bluest blood of the Latin race, secretly wedded114 Aquella Guazetta, the tripe-seller, who had won his lofty affections in the guise115 of a Bulgarian Princess, and how the dread31 secret of Aquella’s origin was revealed at the very moment when the loftiest and most exclusive of the Roman nobility were about to welcome the newly made Marchesa into their ranks.... Aquella, her brain turned by the acuteness of her mental suffering, greets the revelation with a peal116 of frenzied117 laughter. Now this laughter was a continual obstacle, during rehearsals, in the path of Mrs. Gudrun. Said she:
“The peculiarity118 and originality119 of my genius, as Cluffer says, consists in the fact that I can’t do the things that might be expected of me—not for filberts; while I can do the things that mightn’t. If I can’t really hit off that laugh, I’ll have a woman in the wings to do it for me. But my impression is that I shall be all right at night. Don’t forget, Gormleigh, that you’re not to tub the chandelier altogether; I hate to play to a dark house.”
“Py vich innovation,” said Gormleigh afterwards, “de gonsbirators vas enapled to garry out their blan. Himmel!” he cried, dabbing120 his overflowing121 eyes with an antediluvian122 silk pocket-handkerchief, “shall I effer forget—no, not vile123 I lif—de face of dot jung man!”
For at the moment when Monte Polverino’s scorn of the lovely plebeian he has wedded is expressed in words—when Aquella, pierced to the heart by being called 218“a low-born vulgarian” and a “peasant huckster,” is about to utter her famous yell of frenzied laughter, the Old Stage-Doorers and the New Stage-Doorers hung out their boots. A chevaux de frise of walking-sticks, from each of which depended a pair of these indispensable articles of attire124, graced the gallery, distinguished125 the upper circle, and appeared upon the level of the pit. Stricken to the soul, faltering126 and ghastly under his paint, and shaking in the most sumptuous127 pair of patent leathers, white kid topped, in which he had yet appeared, De Boo blankly contemplated128 the horrid129 spectacle; while Mrs. Gudrun, to whose somewhat latent sense of humor the spectacle appealed, burst into peal upon peal of the wildest laughter ever heard beyond the walls of an establishment for the care of the mentally afflicted130. “The grandeur131, poignancy, and reality of the acting,” wrote Cluffer, of the Morning Whooper, “was acknowledged by a crowded house with a deafening132 and unanimous outburst of applause.”
“Both Mrs. Gudrun and Mr. De Boo attained133 the highest level of dramatic expression,” pronounced Mullekens, of the Daily Tomahawk. “It was the touch of Nature which attunes134 the universe to one throb5 of universal relationship.”
The play was a success. Even the “Boo’s!” of both the clubs, united for the nonce in disapprobation, could not rob Leo of his laurels. He wears them to-day, for Pride of Race has enjoyed a tremendous run.
“We’ve made the beggar’s reputation instead of sending him back to the boot-shop and that poor girl,” said Ulick Snowle to Tom Glauber next day.
“Possibly,” said Tom Glauber, sniffing135 at his inseparable carnation136. “But it’s all the better for the girl, I imagine, in the long run.”
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abounding
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| adj.丰富的，大量的v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的现在分词 ) | |
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cull
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| v.拣选；剔除；n.拣出的东西；剔除 | |
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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personalities
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| n. 诽谤，（对某人容貌、性格等所进行的）人身攻击； 人身攻击；人格, 个性, 名人( personality的名词复数 ) | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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virile
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| adj.男性的；有男性生殖力的；有男子气概的；强有力的 | |
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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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appreciable
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| adj.明显的，可见的，可估量的，可觉察的 | |
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chronic
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| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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par
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colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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monetary
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| adj.货币的，钱的；通货的；金融的；财政的 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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incur
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| vt.招致，蒙受，遭遇 | |
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paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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celebrated
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strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
aphasia
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| n.失语症 | |
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31
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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32
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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33
bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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34
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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35
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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36
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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37
loutish
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| adj.粗鲁的 | |
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38
mar
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| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
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39
embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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40
entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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42
betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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43
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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44
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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45
betrothal
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| n. 婚约, 订婚 | |
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46
evicted
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| v.（依法从房屋里或土地上）驱逐，赶出( evict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
enamel
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| n.珐琅，搪瓷，瓷釉；(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
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48
suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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49
lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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50
exhaling
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| v.呼出，发散出( exhale的现在分词 )；吐出（肺中的空气、烟等），呼气 | |
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51
spasms
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| n.痉挛( spasm的名词复数 )；抽搐；（能量、行为等的）突发；发作 | |
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52
plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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53
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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54
knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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55
devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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56
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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57
illuminates
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| v.使明亮( illuminate的第三人称单数 )；照亮；装饰；说明 | |
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58
scorches
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的第三人称单数 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶 | |
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59
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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60
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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61
entails
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| 使…成为必要( entail的第三人称单数 )； 需要； 限定继承； 使必需 | |
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62
acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
scribbling
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| n.乱涂[写]胡[乱]写的文章[作品]v.潦草的书写( scribble的现在分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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64
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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65
glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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66
poignancy
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| n.辛酸事，尖锐 | |
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67
oysters
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| 牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
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68
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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69
romp
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| n.欢闹；v.嬉闹玩笑 | |
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70
renowned
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| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
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71
sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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72
rehearsal
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| n.排练，排演；练习 | |
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73
rehearsals
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| n.练习( rehearsal的名词复数 )；排练；复述；重复 | |
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74
laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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75
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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76
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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77
stimulant
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| n.刺激物，兴奋剂 | |
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78
truthfulness
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| n. 符合实际 | |
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79
syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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80
solicitously
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| adv.热心地，热切地 | |
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81
adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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82
heralded
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| v.预示( herald的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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83
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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84
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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85
wafts
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| n.空中飘来的气味，一阵气味( waft的名词复数 )；摇转风扇v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的第三人称单数 ) | |
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86
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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87
eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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88
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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89
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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90
goodwill
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| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
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91
fixtures
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| （房屋等的）固定装置( fixture的名词复数 )； 如（浴盆、抽水马桶）； 固定在某位置的人或物； （定期定点举行的）体育活动 | |
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92
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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93
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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94
entanglements
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| n.瓜葛( entanglement的名词复数 )；牵连；纠缠；缠住 | |
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95
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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96
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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97
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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98
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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99
vagaries
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| n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 )；异想天开；异常行为；难以预测的情况 | |
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100
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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101
cuttlefish
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| n.乌贼，墨鱼 | |
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102
execrate
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| v.憎恶；厌恶；诅咒 | |
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103
beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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104
continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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105
nautical
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| adj.海上的，航海的，船员的 | |
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106
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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107
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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108
extermination
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| n.消灭，根绝 | |
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109
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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110
meditated
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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111
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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112
confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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113
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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114
wedded
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| adj.正式结婚的；渴望…的，执著于…的v.嫁，娶，（与…）结婚( wed的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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115
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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116
peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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117
frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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118
peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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119
originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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120
dabbing
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| 石面凿毛，灰泥抛毛 | |
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121
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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122
antediluvian
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| adj.史前的，陈旧的 | |
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123
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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124
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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125
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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126
faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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127
sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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128
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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129
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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130
afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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131
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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132
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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133
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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134
attunes
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| v.使协调( attune的第三人称单数 )；调音 | |
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135
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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136
carnation
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| n.康乃馨（一种花） | |
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