Each time Hedvig came opposite to the little cupboard on the wall where the telephone was concealed6, she stopped a moment with helplessly hanging hands and a restless, anxious expression. By and by she approached the spot more and more frequently and it seemed as if an irresistible7 force drew her to the telephone. Then she stretched out her hand to lift the receiver. But then a door banged in the region of the kitchen and at once she withdrew her hand as if it had been burnt, and she resumed her restless pacing. Then everything was quiet again and Hedvig was again at the telephone. In a low unsteady voice she asked for a number. After which her voice with a tremendous effort rose and became tense, haughty8, commanding:
But the tension died away in a disappointed, dissatisfied tone,
“I see, not in yet....”
346Hedvig resumed her cell-walking. She mumbled10 to herself and looked if possible even paler than before. Incessantly11 she looked at the clock in despair that the minutes passed so slowly through the silent and sunny room.
For the second time Hedvig was drawn12 to the telephone. Now at last he had come to the office. The cool relief suddenly made her voice indifferent, hard, businesslike:
“Good-morning! It is Mrs. Hill speaking. I only wanted to remind you of those mortgages that were to be attended to ... those in....”
Levy’s voice answered over the ’phone, stern and assured, with an imperceptible note of satisfaction:
“Yes, of course, the mortgages.... Yes, that will be all right.... I will come out to dinner, if I may, then we can talk it over....”
It was not the first time Levy had invited himself to dinner at Hill villa. Probably in the correct surmise14 that his client would never be able to make up her mind to do it.
Hedvig put the receiver down with a shrug15 of the shoulders, a wretched false little shrug. She resumed her walking. You could see how she tried to convince herself that she was quite cool and indifferent now that her anxiety lest he should forget the mortgages was over.
Her steps halted suddenly in front of one of the patches of sunlight on the carpet. It looked as if she dared not venture out on that red sea of light. It looked as if the spring sun, which flooded the large silent room in ever greater volume, had dazzled and paralysed her.
Good God! What was she to do before dinner? How was she to occupy herself the whole of this long pitiless radiant spring day!
She found no way out but the usual one—to fly to the shadows. She rang the bell and ordered her car.
347“No!”
So the big black covered car ran out to the cemetery17. And then Hedvig sat there on the seat by Percy’s grave, from which she had not allowed the dry withered18 funeral wreaths to be removed. Erect19, motionless she sat under her black sunshade, whilst all around the light May green sparkled and swayed in the broad stream of sunlight. The sun appropriated even Hedvig’s black silk cloak and made it live and shimmer20 with a thousand colours. But her face was only lit up by a faint reflection from below, from the marble of the tomb.
It was more than a year and a half since Percy had died, but lately Hedvig had begun to take refuge here again. Here she fought her way back to the life of shadows, a thin life, a continuation of their life in the sanatorium. Not that she was able to forget even here on the seat in the cemetery all that consumed her:—money, business and everything connected with it. No, but she thought of it with less anxiety. Rather with a solemn and pious21 feeling that it was her duty to watch over what her dear Percy had left behind....
There was something strange about Percy Hill. He had been a poor invalid22, and yet his character had been so free from any mean fears that even long after his death his memory acted as a sedative23. As Hedvig sat there her heart filled with quiet gratitude24 that she had been given the joy of sacrificing some years of her life to him. She no longer suffered for having lied to him and cheated him in his last wish. She had only been the nurse who prevented her poor patient from injuring himself. Her conscience closed its eyes to the circumstances attending her patient’s death.
No, there was no danger in sitting there whispering to her memory, that sentimental25 liar26. Her egoism was not frightened of the past, but of the future.
What a challenge to all the powers of the spirit, this 348feeble, mute, half-concealing lie in the midst of the clear sunshine! It seemed as if the light in sudden anger had surged around her with increased intensity27; had sent a fresh wave of burning restlessness through her body. She rose and seemed to grope after the receding28 shadows. Then with dazzled, burning eyes she staggered along the cemetery path. Outside the gate her motor hummed, impatient to rush her back to all that waited for her ... business ... Levy ... the future...!
“I won’t change,” Hedvig thought in the car. She found there was something safe, reassuring29, in the fact that she did not intend to put on different clothes. But when she came home she did so all the same. And she sat long before the mirror. And then she stood in the window looking down the road.
At last there came a car and Levy got out.
“Taxi,” thought Hedvig, as if she could blunt the point of a threat with that prosaic30 reflection. Levy ran quickly up the stairs. “Jew,” she thought, as if by doing so she had kept something at bay. But all the same she had to force herself to walk slowly, really slowly, out into the hall to receive her guest.
Levy had brought some yellow roses.
“If there were black roses, I should give you them instead,” he said.
Hedvig forgot the roses on a table in the hall on purpose. She had a sensation that he flushed up for a moment beneath his even pallor.
“Those flowers don’t suit you,” he said with a quick bitter smile. Then he turned to the maid who was serving: “Take away those flowers and fetch my roses out of the hall!”
He seemed quite at home.
Then Levy threw himself into business and made good progress from the start.
349Levy had made money live for Hedvig, too much so! At first she had regarded her large fortune as a safe protection against all the demands and dangers of life. She sat huddled32 up in the middle of her gold heap where nothing could reach her. But Levy had thrown out his hands:
“Good God, what money! What a heavy shapeless mass! What an old, moss-grown stump33 of a fortune! For twenty years it has had to take care of itself. For twenty years not a single experienced hand has touched it. It looks like a fund for widows and orphans34.”
“You mean that the investments are safe as a rock,” mumbled Hedvig. “But surely that is a good thing!”
“Yes, but the interest, Mrs. Hill, the interest! You don’t get much more than three and a half per cent. and you could get six. You allow a hundred thousand a year to run through your fingers. That is to make yourself a laughing stock to God and man. As an expert I can’t bear to see such an absurdity35. Allow me to make some dispositions36 for you. You can submit them for the approval of your brothers.”
Hedvig worried and pondered long before she said yes. But the hundred thousand were stronger than her fears. And thus Levy had lured37 her into his world, the money-world. She began by questioning him on all occasions in a woman’s way, ignorantly, persistently38, suspiciously. And he would reply. He answered not only patiently but willingly, quickly, ardently39, enthusiastically. He explained the whole economic mechanism40 of credits, bills, mortgages, debentures41, shares. The whole of this finely balanced system of suspicion and confidence made a deep impression on Hedvig. To her over-cautious spirit it seemed like balancing on the edge of the abyss. His quick purposeful assurance seemed to her something supernatural, almost creepy. But she had to hear more and more. Oh, it was deliciously exciting to hear Levy talk of money. It was 350only now she began to grasp what money was. And she felt as if she were in a swing, feeling giddy at the fact of owning so much.
Yes, Levy’s interest became more and more eager. Hedvig had already been lured from her gold-heap where she had enjoyed the twilight43. Her money was no longer like a wall protecting her against the world. No, it was instead a medium in which she moved about. It formed the thousand connections, the tentacles44 and nerves thanks to which she at once felt what was happening in the town, in the country, in Europe, in the whole world.
Levy tore Hedvig with him half way into life, at least into that kind of life which consists of movement and business. He showed to her confined and numbed45 egoism another kind of egoism that was world-embracing, intensely awake and technically46 brilliant. He was the personification of that egoism. It was something different from Percy’s laissez-aller and cool, submissive irony47. It was wheels that rolled. It was diamond cut diamond. It was power, destiny. Hedvig sometimes became quite frightened at his passionate48 discourse49, frightened as if she had come out into the strong daylight without a dark corner to which to retreat. And she no longer had her money to protect her. It had become his confederate, it betrayed her to him, it was in love with him. Hedvig had no way out but to assume a forced reserve, a sudden cold, and sheer rudeness. But that had no effect on him at all. He was insensitive to everything which was not logic50. Then in her anxiety she crept behind her dead husband, draped herself in crêpe, fled to the shadows and became just piety51 and memory. That was the only thing that hitherto could damp Levy’s eagerness. The world-embracing, hot and cold romance of money shrank up violently and he became gradually colder and colder, more formal and more ironical52, till at last he said good-bye with a bow that was really a shrug of the shoulders.
351So today Mrs. Hedvig had to assume her crêpe.
During the soup Levy raised the question of the mortgage. That was a mere53 nothing, a bagatelle54. They would buy the house by auction55, no doubt about that. It would certainly be good business, because the house was, as it happened, valued much too high. Other people are frightened of houses that are assessed too high. But we are not, Mrs. Hill. For we know of a certain little insurance company that will take the house with open arms. They need it on their books. A house that is bought for 200,000 but can be taken up at 300,000 improves the position at once by 100,000—not for the shareholders56 but for the Board of Directors.
Levy’s face suddenly became contemptuous and almost offended. This topic seemed to upset him. It was not worthy57 of the occasion or of his feelings:
“Well, that’s that,” he exclaimed. “I am tired of the house property swindle. That’s for inferior people, philistines58 and small fry. I really can’t understand your brother Peter’s taste. I admit that he has a brutal59 sort of natural business shrewdness, but he lives like an old-fashioned craftsman60 amidst modern improvements. Before 1905 we believed that business consisted in cheating each other and the State. Yes, I believed it too. But that is now old-fashioned, hopelessly old-fashioned. Nowadays we have at last grasped the fact that the really lucrative61 business is the positive one in which money really makes a contribution.... That is to say shares, industrial shares! We live in the age of a most tremendous industrial boom. The whole world is becoming industrialised. You must be blind not to see in which direction the royal road of capital leads. Money and wheels are related. Shares, industrial shares! Invest your money in forests, waterfalls and iron mines! Send it to the saw mills, the harbours and the ammunition62 works!”
Here Levy swallowed the third glass of mineral water 352and broke out into a vehement63 flood of share quotations64 and statistics of exports. And all the time he stared at Hedvig with an expression that was at once appealing, passionate, embittered65 and sceptical. He wanted to dazzle her, make her enthusiastic, but there was something spasmodic and almost despairing in his efforts. There was not a spark of real and innocent joy in the present moment.
Did he see through her, this woman before him, or did he suffer from the fact that the passionate pulses of his heart were only capable of stirring the ashes of some dry calculations?
Hedvig stared at the table-cloth. She felt his glance on every point of her face and neck. His harsh, quick voice at the same time opened up the whole world for her and spun66 her into a net of supple67 meshes68. It was already as if she could not move hands or feet. He seemed to her to come closer, closer. She intermittently69 felt hot and cold in this strange heat with cold currents that streamed out from his being. Quickly, relentlessly71 the terror rose in her, the irresistible terror of seeing herself cut off from any possibility of escape, overpowered.
She suddenly got up from coffee:
“Shall we not do the round of the pictures today?” she said. “It is the first time it has been light enough after dinner.”
The round of the pictures was an invention of Hedvig’s fear. She felt safer amongst Percy’s pictures.
Levy rose slowly and offered Hedvig his arm. The tension in his face broke down. He was evidently not pleased to have to leave his own special field of attack and to have to resort to a slow roundabout strategy in order to fight with a dead man.
And yet Levy could certainly talk of art, in case of need. He was a connoisseur72 in his own way and had a great deal to say not only of market values but also of theories and technique. There were various things here that he 353could tell some malicious73 stories about, various things he was prepared at once to slaughter74 with his criticism, but also some things he had to admire. But it was a jealous, inarticulate admiration75. Levy bit his lip and kept silent. To come up against the dead husband all the time made him, Jacob Levy, barrister, embarrassed and uncertain of himself. He knew much, but not how to battle with a shadow.
Hedvig found time to breathe. And she at once started the game of “Chinese shades.” It was really a game in her own style, silent, stealthy, and unconsciously false. She had had many and long rehearsals76 of it out there by the grave. Every accent of her voice was reminiscent of crêpe. Solemnly she advanced through the rooms which the evening light was filling with its first pure tones of gold. She stopped with head inclined before one picture after the other. In every gesture, in every word, she simulated admiration for her dead husband’s fine understanding of art and for the modest, unselfish enthusiasm that never failed in spite of exhaustion77 and suffering.
A good dose of almost religious piety was administered to Levy. But he evidently did not like the medicine. His pallor was tinged78 with green. His lips curved into an imperceptible, nervous grimace79. But he had to swallow it all the same. It was only when they had come out into the hall among the modern things that he suddenly plucked up his courage again amidst these new, more reckless and more highly coloured surroundings. With a solemnity that was more austere80 than ever—perhaps because it required more effort—Hedvig halted before an animal painting, signed by a not unknown French artist. The picture represented two tigers, as innocently striped as if they had been painted by a child of five. They were playing in a jungle which seemed to consist of a ragged81 bouquet82 of dried grass.
Then Levy could keep silent no longer: “I know a 354little story about that master,” he exclaimed eagerly. “Two Parisian Jewish dealers83 had a good lunch together and then went down to the Salon84 des Indépendants. And there one of the Jews made a bet with the other that inside a year he would take up and make famous any one of the exhibitors. And the other Jew walked about a long time searching till he found the most hopeless and impossible painter in the whole gigantic exhibition. He chose this painter. But the other was not frightened. He quickly created for the tiger painter a new school of art, which was dubbed85 ‘na?vism’ and in one year he became, as a matter of fact, world-famous. There you see the power of advertisement and of the Jewish genius.”
Of course Hedvig in her inmost heart understood Levy much better than the picture. But we are all most sensitive about our lies. And she also grew angry because she felt again that she was losing her supremacy86 and began to feel unsafe. That’s why she regarded his blasphemous87 story as an insult to Percy’s memory.
“An artist may be great even though he has been run by an unscrupulous Jew,” she mumbled. “This picture was, as a matter of fact, bought before the Jews made it expensive. And it was the general opinion amongst my husband’s friends that it was a real find.”
Hedvig began an eager defence of the striped tigers and the ragged dried grass. She used expressions that she had heard on Percy’s lips during the art discussions down in Montparnasse and from the time when he tried in vain to convince her of the new ideals. She stole his phrases, his catchwords, his characteristic abbreviations, his little jokes and even his trick of bending his head on one side and looking through half-closed eyes.
So the game of “Chinese shades” was followed by a plundering89 of the dead. All that she could lay hands on was now used as a weapon against the insistent90 Levy. Truly, human beings play strange games with each other.
355Levy suddenly looked very tired. There was something pathetic about his raised shoulders. He had one of his fits of inevitable91 truth-telling. But his quick, harsh voice was unsteady:
“Why do you lie to me, Hedvig?” he mumbled. “You were an enemy to all art whilst your husband was alive. Yes, I know it. And you are still to this day indifferent to all this. And all the same you let loose these striped tigers on me. Why can you never be sincere, Hedvig? Why are you so afraid that you must always lie?”
Hedvig froze up and was silent. Every nerve in her was chilled. Never had anyone dared to come so near to her. It seemed as if this man had dared to see more of her than she herself had seen. She kept absolutely motionless like an animal shamming92 death to escape a danger. And still,—did she not feel far, far within a sort of wild relief, something of the same kind as she had felt once when hearing Peter’s cynicisms, though deeper, finer....
Levy stretched out his hand:
“Good-night! I am a little tired. I must go now. I will look after your mortgage. Good-bye—till next time!”
And then he was gone.
Hedvig went to bed, though it was still daylight. She was accustomed to go to bed immediately after his visits. She longed to lie motionless on her back and think.
Hedvig undressed slowly and carefully. She still felt her nerves trembling. For a moment she stood naked before the big mirror built into the wall. Her body was wonderfully well preserved. In its pale, even whiteness, its slim roundness, it seemed to her wonderfully young, immensely younger than she herself. And still it made her shudder93. It might betray her to love, at any moment it might betray her to love.... And some day it would relentlessly deliver her to death. Yes, Hedvig belonged to those in whom nakedness always awakens94 thoughts of death. If she had lived some hundred years earlier her fear would 356have driven her to self-torture. Then she would have scourged95 and martyred her body in order to blunt the point of death.
She quickly drew the blinds and crept beneath the bedcover. She slept in Percy’s old bedroom, that solemn debauch96 in the architecture of the ’nineties which had once aroused her frightened amusement when she came there as a nurse. The bed still resembled a gigantic catafalque, in the vault97 of the alcove98, the zodiacal signs gleamed and in the twilight on the opposite wall the blood dripped from Saint Sebastian’s naked sides....
Hedvig knew that she had a long sleepless99 night in front of her. With her eyes half-closed and her hands stretched by her sides, she went slowly and carefully through all that had passed between her and Levy. In the silence she weighed his gestures, his looks, his tones and his actions. There was something in them that she revelled100 in, slowly sipping101, drop by drop, like a frightened drinker. It was a lonely, selfish joy, separated from the world by walls of darkness and silence.
But by and by she grew more restless, sighed, and turned over beneath the bedclothes. She felt that she was approaching a thought that always recurred102 with terrible regularity103 during her nightly meditations104. Levy was her lawyer? Why did he not charge her anything? She had asked once long ago what she owed for the winding-up, but she had received an evasive answer. Since then they had not discussed that point. Did he not want to accept anything? He might have asked for a very large sum. She could not help enjoying the thought of having perhaps escaped it. But then came the frightened after-thought: Why does he not want anything? Of course because it imposes an obligation, because he wants you to become his. He may ask you to be his wife any day.
Levy was no longer a harmless, gently stimulating105, caressing106 shadow. He stood there by the side of her bed 357terribly alive and with pale face and harsh, passionate voice, hotly demanding his rights. And behind him roared the whole traffic of the vast opening world. She had to answer yes or no. She knew she could not escape that moment. Yes or no. Torn between jubilation107 and agony she writhed108 in the darkness. She could not quite set aside her passion. Her egoism trembled to the very roots. She dreamt frightened dreams of being permitted at last to bare herself, give herself up, be freed from herself, to fling all her misery110 into the flames of love.
But in the midst of her excitement she suddenly became cold as ice. Horribly clear a voice sounded inside her: “Supposing he only wants your money!”
Then suspicion, and anxious greed rushed over her with a thousand reasons. She tormented112 herself systematically113 with her sister’s and brothers’ shrugs114 of shoulders, sarcasms115 and covert117 warnings. Levy’s sharpness, his genius for business, his legal acumen118, all that she had profited by in him seemed now to bear witness against him. “Yes, it is my money he wants,” she mumbled, “of course it is my money.” And now she forgot his looks, his accents and the unsteadiness of his voice. And the memory of her own white body in the mirror could no longer warm her with a single spark of self-confidence. No, it is my money he wants. And perhaps he does not even mean to marry me to get it. Perhaps he will simply use his position to cheat me, trick me, and rob me. He must have seen that I don’t understand business. Perhaps he is just now planning how he can take all I have from me, and ruin me.
So Hedvig passed hours of grinding agony, till, calmed by the morning light, she fell into a short sleep.
A few days later she stood again at the telephone, ringing up Levy. Now it was a question of some timber shares that she had bought on his advice and that had gone down a few crowns.
358On the fifteenth of June Selambs Ltd. had its annual meeting. That was the last permitted day according to the articles of association. Peter could never make himself pay any dividend119 a single day before he must.
The meeting was, as usual, held in the office at Selambshof. Hedvig came early so that the others should not be able to meet and talk about her. For weeks she had worried over this meeting, at which Levy would again meet her sister and brothers. A few years ago—on Laura’s and Stellan’s recommendation—he had been allowed to buy a few shares, and had been elected to the board, chiefly in order to keep an eye on the managing director.
Peter was extremely obliging. He stalked about arranging shares and distributing writing blocks and pencils. He always looked frightened nowadays at these meetings, and today more so than usual.
Levy came late, in a hurry, with his coat buttoned, as impersonal120 as a chapter of a law book. He bowed stiffly and sat down at once in his usual place; the chairman’s place at the writing desk.
“Well,” said Peter, “shall we elect a chairman for the annual meeting. Is anybody proposed?”
Laura played with the chain of her little gilt121 handbag. She was dressed in black and white stripes and had a very tight skirt. It was in that year that skirts began to be worn tight. She still had her golden hair and her smooth skin. And all the same you could clearly see that she had aged122. Her voice sounded cold, the playful purring had gone.
“I beg to propose Stellan,” she said.
Hedvig was huddled up in her corner, staring at Levy. “Now he will look at me, now he thinks I shall say something,” she thought and grew cold all over her body. But Levy did not. Perhaps he grew a shade paler, but he looked at Laura with an amused little smile. Then he calmly put away his papers.
359“I beg to second the last honourable123 speaker,” he said. “The more so as I have things to say which do not come well from the Chair.”
Peter’s voice sounded like that of a ventriloquist:
“Is the meeting agreed on this?”
“Yes,” said Levy in a loud voice. Then he left his place and demonstratively went and sat down beside Laura on the sofa, where he took up a foreign newspaper and began to study the quotations.
So Stellan was chairman. He seemed to take up the hammer without any enthusiasm and now and then cast embarrassed side-glances at his predecessor124. They then proceeded to the adjustment of votes. When they came to Tord Selamb, one hundred shares, absent, Levy pricked126 up his ears:
“Mr. Chairman,” he said, in an indifferent tone, “this is now the third year that Mr. Tord Selamb neither appears in person nor sends a proxy127. Is that not strange?”
Stellan looked inquiringly at Peter:
Peter searched his papers:
“Tord does not care a damn for old Selambshof,” he muttered in a reproachful tone. “He does not care a damn for anything....”
“Supposing the reason is that he has sold his shares,” said Levy without looking up from his paper.
“Sold? To whom should he have sold them?”
Both looked threateningly at Peter.
Levy continued:
“We can safely strike Mr. Tord Selamb off the list of voters. Because I happen to know that for three years he has not possessed129 a single share.”
“How do you know that?”
360“That’s very simple. I wrote and asked him.”
“But Tord does not answer letters.”
“No, not the first. But perhaps the third if it makes him really furious. In the end I got the answer wrapped up in a parcel of abuse. He has sold his shares.”
Stellan rose and stared at the managing director of the company:
“Peter, have you cheated him out of his shares?”
Peter resembled a bear which has been smoked out of his den13. He growled130 nervously131 and beat about him with half paralysed paws.
“Hm, well, damn it all, what was I to do.... He begged me to help him....”
Laura rose purple with anger:
“You are a wretched scoundrel,” she cried, “a wretched scoundrel! For three years you have cheated us!”
Stellan fidgeted at his sister’s vulgar expression:
“Please tell us immediately what you paid Tord,” he said stiffly. “Otherwise I will adjourn132 the meeting and go out myself to J?rn? to find out.”
“Well, seventy-five thousand,” he mumbled with a grin that was now rather pleased than embarrassed.
Laura seemed on the point of flying at him:
“Seventy-five thousand! What a pretty business. We can understand you wanted to keep it to yourself!”
Stellan looked as if he had bitten into a very sour apple. He was apparently134 exercising his art of formulating135 things:
“It will be our common duty to take care of Tord when he has finally ruined himself,” he said. “Thus it is only reasonable that his shares should be distributed equally among us.”
“Never!” said Peter, “never! never!!”
But Stellan was cold as the grave:
“In that case you cannot count on being re-elected. 361There is only one way in which to regain136 our confidence.”
“Yes, you will be instantly kicked out if you don’t share alike,” assured Laura. “We will make Stellan director instead.”
Peter growled, beat about, threatened, whined137, but in the end he had to say good-bye to his fine little stroke of family business:
“But it went off all right for three years,” he mumbled with a melancholy138 grin. “Twenty-five shares per head at seven hundred and fifty each. It is little short of a godsend.”
After this quarrel in the orthodox Selambian fashion they resumed their seats and proceeded with smoothed foreheads and clear eyes with the agenda.
Hedvig had been sitting silent the whole time staring at Levy. She thought of the strong family feeling of the Jews, and their racial esprit de corps139. She searched nervously for a look of disgust and contempt in his face. The whole meeting occasioned her a new and mysterious torment111. The harshness of their cold voices jarred on her. She felt strangely weak and moved. She had suffered and struggled during those last weeks and now she was tired, tired. She wanted to stand up and propose that they should give poor Tord what the shares were worth. The words burnt her tongue. Never before had Hedvig been so near the mellow140 and fragrant141 shores of life. If only Levy had reacted, if only she could have seen the proper pained expression on his face. But she could only discover a half-amused and half-contemptuous curiosity behind his oriental mask. And so she never rose up from her chair. And so the words remained unsaid. And so she believed that he was cold and hard like the others....
And yet Levy had fought like a lion just for her sake. He had disclosed what he knew only in order to disarm142 Stellan and Laura, whose opposition143 and ill-will he had foreseen. There is no time to sit and turn up your nose 362when you are fighting for the object of your passion. And must he not be pleased when he saw the magnificent effect of his information? I have made myself indispensable, he thought. Now they can’t have the impudence144 to turn me out....
But Levy had reckoned without his host.
Without any further quarrels they had gone through the annual report and accounts, agreed the balance sheet, approved the action of the directors, settled the dividend and had now come to the election of the new board. Stellan’s fingers travelled thoughtfully along the edge of an inky paperknife. He seemed to want to sit on only half of the old, worn, dirty office chair:
“May I ask the meeting to propose new members of the Board?”
There was another silence. The room smelt145 of dust, pipe-smoke, dry paper and old sun-dried leather. The shadows of the elm branches in the garden moved sleepily across the knots in the worn floor-boards. Then Laura’s voice sounded again, clear, dry and cold:
“I beg to propose Peter and Stellan and then—Mr. Sundelius.”
Sundelius was the Manager of a rival firm of Levy’s, with whom he was moreover engaged in a lawsuit146. Nothing could be more outspoken147. Levy took a long puff148 at his cigarette:
“Excuse me, but has Sundelius any shares in the company?” he mumbled.
Laura smiled an exquisite149 little smile and played with her suede150 shoe beneath her striped silk skirt:
“Yes, I have sold a couple to him.”
Then Stellan’s voice sounded, far away and impersonal:
“Has anyone anybody else to propose?”
Levy suddenly looked at Hedvig. Yes, now he looked at her inquiringly, exactingly151, severely152. It seemed as if his black pupils would draw her out of her silent corner. 363He made a gesture. It was something indescribable, something between a shrug of the shoulders and a passionate, supplicating153 seizing of a receding cloak, the gesture with which one appeals to a hardened miser109 in a bazaar154 in the East. Did she not see how they were playing with him, sneering155 at him, wanting to kick him out? Had he helped her or had he not? Were they friends or not? Did he love her or not? Were they to marry or not?
Hedvig sat there fingering her pencil. Her face was white. She shivered for cold. What was it Levy asked of her? Yes, only that she should propose the re-election of the present board. She must do it at once or it would be too late. But why did she not say what she had to say? Why could she not move her tongue? Why was she so afraid of her own voice?
Hedvig’s glance left Levy and roamed about the room. Ugh! how many eyes about her—how horribly many! There sat Stellan pretending to look at his nails, there Peter sat staring and sulking, there Laura eyed her with cold scorn. And they all waited for her confession156. Go on, admit now that you are in love with Levy! Call out to anybody who cares to listen that you are in love with Levy.
Then Stellan’s voice sounded with cruel, calculated hardness:
“May we consider the nominations159 closed?”
“Yes,” said Laura.
“Does the Meeting elect the candidates proposed, Peter Selamb, Stellan Selamb and Mr. P. Sundelius?”
“Yes,” said Laura in a loud voice.
The hammer fell.
Levy rose. He was perhaps paler than before. Nobody 364could see whether his hands trembled, for he had put them in his trouser pockets. His voice sounded steady:
“Well, then I have nothing more to do here. The fee due to me as a member of the board you will perhaps allow me to forego for the benefit of your brother, Mr. Tord Selamb, whose circumstances I consider deserving compassion160.”
And with that Levy left the annual meeting of shareholders in Selambs Ltd.
All eyes turned maliciously161 towards Hedvig’s corner. They forgot Levy’s sarcasm116 to enjoy their triumph.
“Ugh! how nice to be rid of the Jew,” laughed Laura. “It was really wise of you Hedvig not to persist in clinging to that knave162 of spades.”
“He is really an impossible person,” said Stellan. “His father came to Sweden on foot with a bundle on his back.”
Peter wanted to add his straw to the heap too, though he did it in a somewhat strange way:
“If I had followed that scoundrel’s advice I should still have had Tord’s shares,” he muttered. “He advised me to transfer the shares in his name, then we two and Hedvig would have been able to outvote you. But I thought it was too devilish.”
This was a lie, a clumsy lie. Hedvig knew it and still she remained silent and allowed her mind to be poisoned. Yes, she sat there with a face that shrank in pale, shivering misery and allowed them to thrust the sting into her love. Their cold malicious joy even gave her a sort of miserable163 relief. It soothed164 her wound. At last she managed to rise and go out. At the door she suddenly turned round:
“I don’t know why you make such a fuss about Levy,” she mumbled. “I think he is useful to run errands.”
In the car Hedvig sat and repeated these words to herself as if she had been afraid of losing them. She got out in town and walked about for hours in the streets. She would have turned to a statue of ice if anyone had 365whispered to her that she did so in the secret hope of meeting Levy. But when she came home she kept near the telephone the whole evening. “If he rings up now and reproaches me,” she thought, “how shall I make him understand that it is quite hopeless to expect anything of me.” It was late when, with a sigh Hedvig tore herself away from the telephone. Then she lay on her bed in the cool green half light of the summer night. “Tomorrow he will come of course,” she thought. “He will be pale, bitter, sarcastic165. He stops in front of me without stretching out his hand. ‘What do you mean? Have I deserved this treatment? Are you so ungrateful and hard? Or do you mistrust me? Have they told you I want your money? But that is a lie, you know it is! I love you Hedvig! I can’t live without you! You must be my wife.’”
Hedvig lay quite still and felt the blood burning in her veins166 as in a fever after an ague. “Yes, then I must tell him—that I can never be his wife,” she thought. But it was a strange trembling “never.” She longed with every fibre of her being to hear those reproaches, that prayer which she thought to refuse.
It was not Levy who came the following day but a letter from the firm of solicitors167 Levy & ?string, containing a bill for thirty-five thousand crowns for winding-up costs and various other commissions.
Poor Levy. There was a sort of helplessness in this revenge. His thoughts were cast almost exclusively in terms of money. He could not grow furious without figures buzzing in his ears. That’s why his wounded pride and aching love found expression in a heavy bill of costs. Yes, for he had really loved Hedvig with a passion that was not less because it was embittered and clear-sighted.
Levy’s revenge had much more effect than he had suspected. He had as a matter of fact sent Hedvig a bull of excommunication that was to part her completely from life and mankind.
366“There!” was her first thought, “he did want to plunder88 me. He wanted my money and nothing else.” And she felt confirmed in all her old morbid168 suspicions. There were only cheats and crooks169 in the whole world and Levy was one of the worst of them.
But at the same time the last shreds170 of the veil of charity were torn from her feelings. She knew now that she had loved him; that she still loved him in spite of all; that she would never be rid of an aching pain in her heart.
That was the climax171 of a mute and humiliating drama in which love fought a hopeless fight against mean fear. Hedvig remained with her poor gold.
Yes, she clung convulsively to the money for which she had sacrificed all. She could not transact172 any new business herself but, strange to say, and in spite of her distrust, she allowed all Levy’s investments stand. But she collected her papers, pondered and calculated. Down in the vaults173 of the bank and at home in her villa she sat and counted and counted. Like the hermit174 with his rosary she sat mumbling175, letting one figure after the other slip between her fingers.
Levy’s letter accompanying the bill she did not answer. Perhaps it was her timid unwillingness176 to reveal anything. Perhaps it was a secret hope that he would call himself.
In the end Mr. Levy had to take proceedings177 to get his money.
Hedvig no longer drove out to Percy’s grave. The shadow game was over. She no longer needed the dead to protect her against the living. And though she now more and more rarely went outside the house she no longer glanced at Percy’s collections. It was really a strange whim178 of fate that just such a being as she should steal about in that big house, built as a home of Art.
On a sultry and still summer evening Hedvig rose with smarting eyes and throbbing179 temples from her papers in 367the bedroom. She had an idea that people stared at her down at the bank and she had therefore brought everything home: shares, mortgages, title deeds, deposit receipts, bank-books and bundles of notes. And now it was difficult in the evenings because she did not dare to light the light from fear of being seen from the outside through the chinks in the blinds. She sat over her papers till the figures swam together in a grey mist and there was a pricking180 sensation in her eyes. Then she crept to the door to see that the towel was hanging over the keyhole, so that none of the servants should peep in. Then she stole slowly, stopping all the time to listen, towards the big built-in wardrobe where she had found a good hiding place behind an old carved chest. When her treasure was hidden, she noiselessly opened a window and looked out to see if anybody moved.
Hedvig stood long in the window. The evening was sultry and heavy. Far below the firs lay a woolly darkness. Above, a few faint scattered181 stars hung in a sky to which the reflections of the neighbouring town imparted a reddish, ominous182 hue183. Against this background she presently distinguished184 the quick shadowy flight of the bats round the eaves, the soft flutter of the moths185, the flight of the spiders with their long helplessly suspended legs, all the mysterious fluttering and hovering186 things out in the big witches’-kitchen of the damp, warm summer night.
Hedvig felt a fever round her temples, a dull anxiety. All her silent, secret, suppressed feelings revived for the last time and moved about in the darkness. It was the restlessness of the body in the presence of the relentless70 oncoming autumn that melted together with her dim light-shy anxiety for her treasure.
Hedvig closed the window, pulled down the blind, turned on the light, and began to undress. She moved slowly, hesitatingly, sighing. At first she turned her back to the mirror, but by and by she stole one glance after the other 368into it. She was irresistibly187 drawn to the corner where the mirror stood. It seemed that the air there was not so still and burdened with loneliness. Before the mirror her movements quickened. With her glance fastened intently on her own image Hedvig loosened her hair and let her last garment fall to the floor. She had aged quickly of late, had grown grey about the temples and had folds beneath her breasts. And now she suddenly screwed up her face, so that it was full of wrinkles, and emphasised the weariness of her pose. “I am old,” she mumbled, “I am old.” And it seemed as if she had huddled up under the lee of old age.
But Hedvig did not escape so easily. She did not deceive herself. With a jerk she straightened herself up again, threw back her head, lifted her arms behind her neck so that her breasts seemed more beautiful. And she felt how a smile spread and opened out on her face. She saw it in the mirror, a strange, girlish trembling smile with pouting188 mouth, ready to be kissed and bitten. She began to turn and sway to and fro as if she heard dance-music. Closer and closer her face approached the mirror. She felt a faint sickness as if in a swing, and the air felt hot round her temples. Beside her own nakedness she beheld189 in the unnatural190 gloom of the mirror-room the nakedness of St. Sebastian. The ropes cut into his beautiful limbs. The points of the arrows were softly embedded191 in the even, slightly bronzed flesh.... To Hedvig he suddenly assumed Levy’s face. Yes, it was Levy’s mouth which smiled at her. His lips had lost their scorn and smiled close to hers, ecstatically, sensually. His eyes had lost their sharp, short-sighted stare and revealed black, fathomless192 depths of life and passion. His scorching193 breath rushed over her, his arms bent42 her irresistibly....
Hedvig collapsed194. Moaning and sobbing195 she rolled on the carpet whilst the last late attenuated196 rush of blood painfully fought its way through her bosom197....
369Suddenly she started as if somebody had poured cold water over her. She seemed to hear footsteps and whispers outside. She flew to the switch, turned out the light and listened again intently. Then she quickly put on some clothes and lifted the blind carefully. Trembling in her whole body she lay there crouching198 and watched. At first she saw only the black darkness, but by and by she distinguished two figures, one dark and one light, down by the fence. They stood in the shadow of the firs tightly clasped together.
It was the chauffeur and the parlourmaid.
Hedvig was at once overcome by confused emotions of shame, indignation and furious suspicions. The impudent199, shameless, immoral200 rabble201! Before my eyes! Of course they were spying through the chinks in the blinds. And now they are laughing at me between their kisses. Yes, I have seen them often exchange glances of secret understanding. Fancy if they have seen me with the papers too. Fancy if they are conspiring202 to rob me. If they murder me one night and take everything and set fire to the house to hide their crime....
Hedvig remained on her aching knees till the couple had passed through the gate and disappeared in the darkness of the forest. Then she dragged herself to bed and lay there listening with every nerve in the thick darkness. All the time she imagined she heard something move in the wardrobe. In the end she had to get up and bring the papers and the money into her bed. With her arm round the two heavy leather portfolios203 she at last fell into a restless slumber204.
The following morning Hedvig dismissed the chauffeur and the parlourmaid. That was the beginning to the depopulation of Hill villa. Then she sold the car and had a fire and burglar proof safe built into the wall in the wardrobe. When it began to grow cold in the autumn she closed up the picture galleries and only heated a few rooms. By 370that time both the cook and the other maid and the gardener had gone. She had only one servant left, an old bad-tempered205, silent, faithful servant of the Hill family.
The snow came and Hedvig got herself up at dawn, so as not to be seen, and swept the snow drifts from the gate. For long periods only one thin column of smoke rose from the chimneys to show that there was still flickering206 life in the big white villa. It gradually began to become a ghost-house.
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1
renaissance
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| n.复活，复兴，文艺复兴 | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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levy
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| n.征收税或其他款项，征收额 | |
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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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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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13
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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surmise
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| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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16
chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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17
cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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18
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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19
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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21
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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23
sedative
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| adj.使安静的，使镇静的；n. 镇静剂，能使安静的东西 | |
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24
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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25
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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26
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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27
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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28
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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29
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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31
primroses
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| n.报春花( primrose的名词复数 )；淡黄色；追求享乐（招至恶果） | |
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32
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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34
orphans
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| 孤儿( orphan的名词复数 ) | |
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35
absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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36
dispositions
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| 安排( disposition的名词复数 )； 倾向； （财产、金钱的）处置； 气质 | |
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lured
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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39
ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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40
mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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41
debentures
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| n.公司债券( debenture的名词复数 ) | |
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42
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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43
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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44
tentacles
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| n.触手( tentacle的名词复数 )；触角；触须；触毛 | |
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45
numbed
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| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
technically
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| adv.专门地，技术上地 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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48
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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49
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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50
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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51
piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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52
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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53
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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54
bagatelle
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| n.琐事；小曲儿 | |
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55
auction
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| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
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56
shareholders
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| n.股东( shareholder的名词复数 ) | |
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57
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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58
philistines
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| n.市侩，庸人( philistine的名词复数 )；庸夫俗子 | |
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59
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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60
craftsman
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| n.技工，精于一门工艺的匠人 | |
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61
lucrative
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| adj.赚钱的，可获利的 | |
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62
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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63
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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64
quotations
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| n.引用( quotation的名词复数 )；[商业]行情（报告）；（货物或股票的）市价；时价 | |
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65
embittered
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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67
supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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68
meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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69
intermittently
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| adv.间歇地；断断续续 | |
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70
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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relentlessly
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| adv.不屈不挠地；残酷地；不间断 | |
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72
connoisseur
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| n.鉴赏家，行家，内行 | |
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73
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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74
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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75
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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76
rehearsals
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| n.练习( rehearsal的名词复数 )；排练；复述；重复 | |
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77
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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78
tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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79
grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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80
austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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81
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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82
bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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83
dealers
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| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
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84
salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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85
dubbed
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| v.给…起绰号( dub的过去式和过去分词 )；把…称为；配音；复制 | |
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86
supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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87
blasphemous
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| adj.亵渎神明的，不敬神的 | |
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88
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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89
plundering
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的现在分词 ) | |
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90
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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91
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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92
shamming
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| 假装，冒充( sham的现在分词 ) | |
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93
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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94
awakens
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的第三人称单数 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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95
scourged
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| 鞭打( scourge的过去式和过去分词 )； 惩罚，压迫 | |
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96
debauch
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| v.使堕落，放纵 | |
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97
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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98
alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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99
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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100
revelled
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| v.作乐( revel的过去式和过去分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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101
sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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102
recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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103
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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104
meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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105
stimulating
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| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
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106
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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107
jubilation
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| n.欢庆，喜悦 | |
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108
writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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109
miser
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| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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110
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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111
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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112
tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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113
systematically
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| adv.有系统地 | |
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114
shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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115
sarcasms
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，挖苦( sarcasm的名词复数 ) | |
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116
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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117
covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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118
acumen
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| n.敏锐，聪明 | |
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119
dividend
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| n.红利，股息；回报，效益 | |
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120
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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121
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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122
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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123
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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124
predecessor
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| n.前辈，前任 | |
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125
prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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126
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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127
proxy
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| n.代理权，代表权；（对代理人的）委托书；代理人 | |
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128
convened
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| 召开( convene的过去式 )； 召集； （为正式会议而）聚集； 集合 | |
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129
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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130
growled
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| 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 | |
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131
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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132
adjourn
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| v.（使）休会，（使）休庭 | |
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133
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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134
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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135
formulating
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| v.构想出( formulate的现在分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
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136
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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137
whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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138
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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139
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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140
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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141
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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142
disarm
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| v.解除武装，回复平常的编制，缓和 | |
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143
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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144
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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145
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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146
lawsuit
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| n.诉讼，控诉 | |
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147
outspoken
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| adj.直言无讳的，坦率的，坦白无隐的 | |
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148
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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149
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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150
suede
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| n.表面粗糙的软皮革 | |
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151
exactingly
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| 费劲的； 需细致小心的； （标准）严格的； （对别人）严格的 | |
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152
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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153
supplicating
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| v.祈求，哀求，恳求( supplicate的现在分词 ) | |
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154
bazaar
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| n.集市，商店集中区 | |
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155
sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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156
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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157
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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158
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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159
nominations
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| n.提名，任命( nomination的名词复数 ) | |
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160
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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161
maliciously
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| adv.有敌意地 | |
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162
knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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163
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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164
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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165
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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166
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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167
solicitors
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| 初级律师( solicitor的名词复数 ) | |
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168
morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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169
crooks
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| n.骗子( crook的名词复数 )；罪犯；弯曲部分；（牧羊人或主教用的）弯拐杖v.弯成钩形( crook的第三人称单数 ) | |
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170
shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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171
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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172
transact
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| v.处理；做交易；谈判 | |
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173
vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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174
hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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175
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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176
unwillingness
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| n. 不愿意，不情愿 | |
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177
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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178
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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179
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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180
pricking
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| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
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181
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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182
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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183
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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184
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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185
moths
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| n.蛾( moth的名词复数 ) | |
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186
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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187
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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188
pouting
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的现在分词 ) | |
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189
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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190
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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191
embedded
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| a.扎牢的 | |
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192
fathomless
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| a.深不可测的 | |
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193
scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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194
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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195
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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196
attenuated
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| v.（使）变细( attenuate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）变薄；（使）变小；减弱 | |
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197
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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198
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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199
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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200
immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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201
rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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202
conspiring
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| 密谋( conspire的现在分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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203
portfolios
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| n.投资组合( portfolio的名词复数 )；（保险）业务量；（公司或机构提供的）系列产品；纸夹 | |
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204
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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205
bad-tempered
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| adj.脾气坏的 | |
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206
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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