She wrote to her husband at Malta: “I had always thought that Margot’s success in London was due to her exotic quality. But she seems quite as successful on her native heath. This leads me to the general platitude8 that boys are the same the world over. I am a success here, too. Many callers, mostly female, in huge motor cars. The American woman seems to consider frocks a substitute for manners and conversation. Mark is anxious that Margot should marry Gurdy Bernamer and Gurdy is plainly willing. It would be suitable enough. The boy has smart friends[193] and will inherit ￡10,000 from old Mr. Carlson. Margot can float herself in local society no doubt. She is now playing tennis with two young brokers10 and a 22 year old journalist whose father owns half of some State. I have mailed you a strange work, ‘Jurgen’ by some unheard of person. Do not let any of the more moral midshipmen read it.” She stopped, seeing Gurdy saunter across the lawn toward the beach and pursued him to where he curled on the sand. “You frighten me,” she said, taking her eyes from the scar that showed its upper reach above his bathshirt, “you lie about two thirds naked in this sun and then tell me it’s a cool day.—But I want to be documented in American fiction. I’ve read five novels since Wednesday. It seems to be established that all your millionaires are conscious villains12 and all your poor are martyrs13 except a select group known as gangsters14. That’s thrilling when the reviewers so loudly insist that your authors flatter the rich.”
“Some of them do,” Gurdy said, lifting his legs in the hot air.
In a bathsuit he lost his civilized15 seeming, was heroic, sprawled16 on the sand. Olive told him: “You’re one of those victims of modernity, old son. You belong to thirteen forty. Green tights and a dark tunic17 trimmed with white fur. Legs are legs, aren’t they?”
[194]“Heredity’s funny,” he said, “I look exactly like my father.”
“Margot’s Uncle Eddie? She talks of him a good deal and of your mother. I was rather afraid her metropolitan18 airs and graces would shock your people but she seems to have had a jolly time down there—New Jersey’s down from here, isn’t it? She enjoyed herself.—Metropolitan airs and graces!—That’s a quotation19 from something. Sounds like the Manchester Guardian20.—Should I like your people?”
“You might. Grandfather’s an atheist21. Dad’s a good deal of a cynic. They’re awfully22 nice small town people. My sisters all wish they were movie stars and my kid brothers think that a fighting marine23 is the greatest work of God.”
“And Margot says they all think you’re the last and best incarnation of Siegfried. I should like to see them.”
Gurdy shuddered24. Grandfather Walling and Mrs. Bernamer held Lady Ilden responsible for the ruin of Margot as a relative. He imagined her artifice25 and her ease faced by the horrified26 family—a group of frightened colts stumbling off from a strange farmhand. He poured sand over his arm and lied, “You’d scare them. Mark’s always talked about you as though you were the Encyclop?dia Brittanica on two legs. You might be interested, though.—I say, Mark’s[195] decided27 that he will produce ‘Todgers Intrudes28.’ Thinks he’ll have Cosmo Rand play the Earl. Can Rand really act?”
“Oh,—well enough for that sort of tosh. He’s handsome and he has a pleasant voice. But it’s rather silly of Mark to force such a poor play on the public because Margot wants Ronny Dufford out of debt. But he’s so intoxicated29 with Margot just now that he’d do murders for her. Why didn’t he come down for the week-end?”
Gurdy got up and yawned, “Oh, his treasurer30’s wife ran off with a man last Wednesday—while he was down here. He’s trying to patch it up.—You know, he isn’t at all cynical31, Lady Ilden. He’s very easily upset by things like that.”
“I suppose he likes his treasurer? Then why shouldn’t he be upset? The treasurer can’t be enjoying the affair.—I wonder if you appreciate Mark’s noble strain, Gurdy? I think I must send you a copy of the letter he wrote me after he’d packed you off to school. I showed it to my husband who has all the susceptibility of the Nelson monument and he almost shed tears. It took something more than mere32 snobbery33 or a desire for your future gratitude34 to make Mark send you away. It horribly hurt him. If paternal35 affection’s a disease the man’s a walking hospital!—There’s the luncheon36 bell.”
[196]Gurdy ran into the water and furiously swam. Unless Lady Ilden was making amiable37 phrases Margot had lied to her about the family at Fayettesville. It was natural that she should tell Mark how she’d enjoyed the farm. That was prudent38 kindness, no worse than his own gratitudes when Mark gave him sapphire39 scarf-pins and fresh silver cigarette cases that he didn’t need or want. But Margot shouldn’t lie to Lady Ilden. Gurdy avoided the next week-end and went to Fayettesville where his family worried because Mark was losing money through the actors’ strike.
“And he’ll need all he can lay hands on with Margot to look after,” said Mrs. Bernamer, rocking her weight in a chair on the veranda40, “It ain’t sensible for him to—to bow down and worship that child like he does. Oh, she’s pretty enough!”
“Get out,” Bernamer commented, “He’d be foolish about her if she’d got to wear spectacles and was bowlegged. Gimme a cigarette, Gurd. How near’s the Walling finished?”
“Two thirds, Dad.—Grandfather, you’ll have to come up and sit in a box the opening night.”
The beautiful old man blinked and drawled, “I wouldn’t go up to N’York to see Daniel Bandmann play ‘Hamlet’—if he was alive. How’s old Mr. Carlson get on?”
[197]Gurdy often found the contrast between his grandfather and Carlson diverting. The dying manager, a cynic, wanted Heaven in all the decorations of the Apocalypse. The old peasant lazily insisted that death would end him. He got some hidden pleasure from the thought of utter passage. Gurdy found this content stupendous. The farmer had never been two hundred miles from his dull acreage and yet was ready to be done with his known universe while Carlson wanted eternity41. He cackled when the striking actors made peace and ordered wreaths sent to the more stubborn managers. His bitter tongue rattled42.
“Why don’t more writers write for the theatre, Gurdy? Ever been in Billy Loeffler’s office? Five thousand bootlickers and hussies squatted43 all over the place. I sent that fellow Moody44 that wrote the ‘Great Divide’ to see Loeffler. Had to set in the office with a bunch of song carpenters from tin pan alley45 and a couple of tarts46 while Loeffler was prob’ly talkin’ to some old souse he’d knew in Salt Lake City. And then Loeffler looks at the play and asks is there a soobrette part in it for some tomtit his brother was keepin’! A writer’s got a thin skin, ain’t he? Here Mark gets mad because this writer Mencken says managers are a bunch of hogs48. Well, ain’t they? Four or five ain’t. Sure, they’re hogs. Human[198] beings. Hogs. Same as the rest of mankind. Good thing Christ died to save us.” He contemplated49 redemption through the cigarette smoke. His Irish nurse crossed herself in a corner. Carlson went on, “Say, that feller Russell Mark’s got drillin’ that English comedy is all right. Was in to see me, yesterday. Good head. Knows his job. Says this Rand pinhead is raisin’ Cain at rehearsals50. Better drop in there and see what goes on. Mark’s so busy with that Cuban play he ain’t got time.”
Rehearsals of “Todgers Intrudes” went on at a small theatre below Forty Second Street. Gurdy drifted into the warm place and watched the director, Russell, working. On the bare stage five people progressed from point to point of the tepid52 comedy. Russell, a stooped, bald man of thirty-five, sat near the orchestra pit. Gurdy had watched the rehearsal51 ten minutes before Russell spoke53. “Don’t cross, there, Miss Marryatt. Stand still.” Then, “still, please, Mr. Rand.” On the stage Cosmo Rand gave the director a stare, shrugged54 and strolled toward the cockney comedian55, the intrusive56 Todgers of the plot. Russell said nothing until a long speech finished, then, “You’re all rushing about like cooties. Go back to Miss Marryatt’s entrance and take all your lines just as you stand after she’s sat down. Dora isn’t pronounced Durrer, Mr. Hughes.”[199] Gurdy was thinking of the long patience needed in this trade when Russell spoke sharply, “Mr. Rand, will you please stand still!”
“My God,” said Rand, “must I keep telling you that I played this part in—”
“Will you be so good as to stand still?”
Rand continued his lines. Gurdy walked down and slipped into a chair beside the director, aware that the players stiffened57 as soon as they saw Mark’s nephew. The handsome Miss Marryatt began to act. Cosmo Rand sent out his speeches with a pleasant briskness58. Russell murmured, “Glad you happened in, Bernamer. This was getting beyond me. School children,” and the act ended.
“Three o’clock, please,” said the director. The small company trickled59 out of the theatre. Russell lit his pipe and stretched, grinning. “Rand’s very capable and a nice fellow enough but he’s difficult. Fine looking, isn’t he? Come to lunch with me.”
It was startling to be taken into an engineer’s club for the meal. Russell explained, “I was an engineer. It’s not so different from stage directing. You sometimes get very much the same material. I’ve often wanted some dynamite60 or a pickax at rehearsals. Nice that you floated in just now. I’ve a curiosity about this piece. Does Mr. Walling see money in it? I don’t.”
[200]“He thinks it may go,” said Gurdy.
“It won’t. It’s sewed up in a crape. If you had a young John Drew and a couple of raving61 beauties playing it might run six weeks. And Dufford hasn’t any standing62 among the cerebrals. We might try to brighten the thing with some references to the Nourritures Terrestres or Freud. It’s a moron63. Prenatal influence. Mr. Walling tells me we’re to open in Washington, too. My jinx! I went down there to offer up my life for the country and got stuck in the Q.M.C. supervising crates64 of tomatoes. Did you ever argue with a wholesale65 grocer about crates? It’s worse than staging a revue.”
“That’s a dreadful thing to say!”
Russell broke a roll in his pointed66 fingers and shook his head. “No.... The revue’s a very high form of comedy when it’s handled right. It gets clean away with common sense, for one thing. And it hasn’t a plot. I hate plots unless they’re good plots. That’s why this miserable67 ‘Todgers’ thing affects me so badly. I hoped Mr. Walling would let me help him with ‘Captain Salvador.’ But it’s his baby.”
“Is Rand giving you as much trouble as that every day?”
“Trouble? My dear man, you’ve never rehearsed a woman star who had ideas about her art! Rand’s merely rather annoying, not troublesome.[201] He’s got no brains so his idea is to imitate the man who played the part in London. And he’s never learned how to show all his looks, either. But very few Americans know how.”
Gurdy liked the director and spent several afternoons at the rehearsals. Cosmo Rand fretted68 him. The slight man was obdurate69. He raced about the stage until Russell checked him. His legs, sheathed70 always in grey tweed, seemed fluid. The leading woman had an attack of tonsilitis and halted proceedings71. It was during this lapse72 that Gurdy encountered Cosmo Rand in a hotel lounge and nodded. The actor stopped him, deferentially73, “I say, I’m afraid poor Russell’s sick to death of me. I’m giving him a bit of trouble.” Gurdy found no answer. The actor fooled with his grey hat, rubbed his vivid nails on a cuff74, corrected his moustache and said, “The fact is—I do most sincerely think that Russell’s wrong to drop all the English stage directions. Couldn’t you—suggest that Mr. Walling drop in to watch sometime when Miss Marryatt’s better and we’re rehearsing again?”
His soft, round bronze eyes were anxious. He spoke timidly, the rosy75 fingernails in a row on his lower lip. He was something frail76 and graceful77, a figure from a journal of fashions. Gurdy wondered whether Cora Boyle ever assaulted her poor mate and smiled.
[202]“Mr. Walling has a good deal of confidence in Russell’s judgment78, Mr. Rand. But I’ll speak to him if you like.”
“I’d be most awf’ly grateful if you would, Mr. Bernamer. The play’s such a jolly thing and one would like to see it do well. Ronny Dufford’s rather a dear friend and—so very broke, you know?”
The rosy, trim creature seemed truly worried. Meeting Russell at the 45th Street office the next day, Gurdy told him that Rand’s heart was breaking. The director grimaced79, patting his bald forehead.
“The little tyke’s worrying for fear he won’t get good notices. And if this rubbish should fluke into a success he’ll be made into a star. Have you ever observed the passion of the American public for second rate acting80? Especially if it happens to have a slight foreign accent? Modjeska, Bandmann, Nazimova?—Well, Miss Marryatt’s all right again. We’ll rehearse some more tomorrow. Come and look on.”
Mark had gone to Fayettesville for a few days. Gurdy attended the morning rehearsal of “Todgers Intrudes.” Cosmo Rand trotted81 about the stage determinedly82 and Russell turned on Gurdy with a groan83 of, “This is beyond me. I’m getting ready to do murder. He’s throwing the[203] whole thing out of key. I shall have to get your uncle to squash him.”
“Oh, Holy Moses,” the director mourned, “look at him!—Slower, please, Mr. Rand!—It’ll be awkward if I get Mr. Walling to squash him, Bernamer. You never can tell how these walking egoisms will break out. He may run about town saying that Mr. Walling’s oppressing him cruelly.—My God, he’ll be crawling up the scene in a minute!”
On the stage, Rand had excited himself to a circular movement about a large divan85 in the centre. He had somehow the look of a single racer coming home ahead of the other runners. The men and women standing still suggested a sparse86 audience for this athletic87 feat88. It was ludicrous. Worse, Mark would never scold Cora Boyle’s husband. Gurdy took a resolve. Margot had made Mark waste time with this silly play. She had proposed Rand for the part. She should help. He hurried to the station and reached the cottage in mid11 afternoon. A warm October wind made the fir trees whistle. He found Margot in a silk sweater of dull rose putting a tennis ball about the dry lawn. She smiled, tilting89 the golfstick across a shoulder,[204] and swayed her slim body back to look up at Gurdy.
“Dad just telephoned from the farm, old son. Wanted to know if you were here. It was something about ‘Captain Salvador’.”
“Oh, yes. I was hunting a tom tom for the Voodoo scene. He doesn’t like the one they’re using. Doesn’t thud loudly enough.—Can I talk to you about ‘Todgers Intrudes’ without having a fight?”
“Of course you can.”
“All right. It’s going very badly. Mr. Russell, the director, has a free for all row with Mr. Rand every day. Rand acts like the last of a ballet. He’s putting everything back. He’s out of the picture all the time. Word of honour, Margot, the play hasn’t nine lives. It’s thin. It’ll take a lot of work to make it go. Russell’s one of the best directors going and he knows what he’s doing. Rand simply runs all over the stage like that clown at the Hippodrome.”
“That’s rather the way it was played in London. Of course, that’s no excuse. Have dad scold Rand.”
“Be pretty awkward for Mark—scolding Cora Boyle’s husband.”
Margot said, “What utter tosh!”
“No, it’s not. Mark’s old fashioned—sensitive about things like that. And Rand might[205] take it as spite. Cora Boyle’s back from California, Russell tells me. She’s a fearful liar90. If she hears that Mark jumped on her husband she’ll tell all her friends that Mark’s simply a swine. You don’t know how gossip travels and gets—distorted. Once last May Mark said that he didn’t like a gown that some woman was wearing in a play we’d been to the night before. He said that at lunch in the Claridge. Next day the woman’s husband came into the office and wanted to thrash Mark. By the time the story got to him it had swelled91 up like a balloon. This fellow had got it that Mark said his wife looked like a streetwalker and acted like one.—It’s all very awkward. Couldn’t you—”
“Oh, look here! Because I suggested Cossy Rand for the Earl I’m not going to drynurse him!—I think you’re frightfully hypersensitive about his being married to Cora Boyle. They’re hardly ever together. It’s taking a theatrical93 menage as seriously as—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Gurdy broke in, watching the red streaks94 mount her face, “I’m sorry! Let’s drop it. You know Rand. I thought you might write him a line and tell him to calm down. That was all. Mark’s working himself sick over ‘Captain Salvador’ and that’s an important production. Every one’s interested in it. Some of the critics have read it and think[206] it’s the best American play in years. After all, you got Mark into this ‘Todgers’ thing. He’s doing it to please you. He’ll worry if he has to—”
Margot laughed, whipped the ball away neatly95 with one foot and tossed her hair back. She said, “I’ll write Rand, of course. Of course I don’t want ‘Todgers’ to get a black eye. I’ll send him a note and tell him to carry on. Perhaps he’s rather opinionated. Where’s he stopping?”
“The Knickerbocker.”
She yawned, “I’ll write him, then. Staying for dinner?” She turned and roamed off in her swaying fashion. Directly, a motor swung about the house. One of the neighbours had come to take the girl driving. She waved to Gurdy and disappeared. He resented the waving of the brown hand. It was impossible not to resent her kind mentions of his mother and sisters before Lady Ilden and Mark.
He resented, too, the airy changes from tart47 rage to suavity96. Their talks became a tedious, uncertain duet with one performer unwilling97. Gurdy strolled into the cottage and Olive Ilden looked up from a novel.
“What have you been quarrelling with Margot about?” she asked.
“Not quarrelling.”
“Nonsense. I could see you through the[207] doors. You were quarrelling and she began it. Tell me.”
She closed the book and regarded him, not smiling, from her wicker chair. There was an odd alarm in her eyes under which hollows showed. The negligent98 trail of her black gown was dusted with cigarette ash. Gurdy stared, upset.
“We weren’t quarrelling. Cosmo Rand’s making an ass2 of himself at the rehearsals. She rather planted him on Mark. Mark’s so sensitive about Cora Boyle that Russell—the man who’s rehearsing ‘Todgers’—and I don’t want to worry Mark with the mess. I wanted Margot to write Rand a note and tell him to buck99 up. He’s holding the rehearsals back. Here it’s almost the first of November. Mark’s got a theatre in Washington for a couple of weeks from now and the play isn’t half ready.”
Olive tapped a cigarette holder100 on the walnut101, Dutch table and looked at the floor. Then she raised her eyes and smiled, spoke without artifice.
“I shan’t let her write to Rand, Gurdy. She’s too much interested in him. I don’t like it. She cabled him to come over here as soon as she’d bullied102 Mark into buying the rights to ‘Todgers Intrudes.’ The little idiot thinks him a great actor. I’m sure I don’t know why. I don’t at all like this. I only found it out yesterday.[208] Mark wouldn’t like it. The man’s married and if he happens to tell people Margot sent for him—I quite understand theatrical gossip, Gurdy. Mark’s a great person and it would make quite a story. And of course there are rats who don’t like Mark.”
“How did you find this out, Lady—”
“In the silliest way. I was talking about Ronny Dufford and Margot began to argue that this wretched play is really good. She rather lost her temper. She told me you’d tried to persuade Mark not to produce the thing to spite her. I—” Olive laughed unhappily, “I hadn’t the faintest idea that you’d quarrelled. You’re rather too cool, old man. I’ve been teasing you all this time fancying that you were wildly in love with the child and it seems that you’re at odds103.—Oh, It’s all utter nonsense, of course! But I don’t like it. It’s a pose. She rather prides herself on being unconventional. And the silliest part of it is that she feels she’s done Mark a favour.”
“She’s probably cost him about fifteen thousand dollars,” said Gurdy.
This was antique, this tale of a handsome, dapper actor and a girl gone moonstruck over his pink face. Gurdy grunted104, “We can’t tell Mark this. He’d be upset. It’s idiotic105.”
Olive laughed, “Oh, you mustn’t get excited[209] over it, Gurdy. The play will fail and she’ll drop Rand. It’s a gesture, you see? The clever girl doing the unconventional thing.” She became comfortable, then artificial. “You mustn’t take Margot at her own valuation, dear. She’s the moment—the melodramatic moment. What’s that American slang? She’s no—no ball of fire! She admires people easily and drops them easily. She’s eighteen. She was quite lost in adoration106 of the Countess of Flint two years ago and then the poor woman did something the child didn’t like—wore the wrong frock, probably—and that was all over. The poor lady died in Colorado yesterday.—That means consumption, doesn’t it? I read the notice to Margot at breakfast and she said, ‘Really.’ Rand flattered her about her acting, I fancy, and she thinks he’s remarkable107 in return for the compliment. Every normal female gets mushy—I’m quite Americanized—over an actor at eighteen. When I was eighteen I wrote a five act tragedy and sent it to—Merciful Heaven—I’ve forgotten who he was! Beerbohm Tree, probably. But I must congratulate you on your attitude. You had a frightful92 row at Fayettesville. She said, herself, that she was to blame. She hurt you. And you’ve not shown it in the least.”
“It didn’t amount to much.—But, Mark wouldn’t like this business. And of course some[210] people don’t like him. They’d be ready to talk if they thought she was flirting109 with—”
“But she isn’t! If she was I’d drag her off to Japan with me. She’s hardly spoken to the man except at those rehearsals last winter. It’ll die a swift death when the play fails, old man. We’ve no use for failures at eighteen.”
Olive laughed, repeated the prophecy in a dozen turning phrases and drove with Gurdy to the station after dinner. But she was oppressed. She could imagine Mark’s bewilderment clearly. He found Rand a somewhat comic person, a frail young poser towed after the robust110 beauty of his wife, perhaps bullied. The car brought Olive back to the white portico111 of the cottage and she found Margot distracting a middle aged108 sugar broker9. It was time for bed when the addled112 man’s car puffed113 away. Margot yawned and mounted the brown stairs in a flutter of marigold skirts. The living-room fell still. Olive settled at a table and commenced a letter to Ilden. “I shall not start for Japan for some time. Margot is behaving rather queerly. Having fancied that I could follow the eccentric curves of her mind I am much annoyed to find that I can not. This cottage will be closed next week. Heaven knows what will become of the furniture unless Mark should use it in a play. I have a curiosity[211] to see the opening of his new theatre. He is working frantically114 over the play for its opening. Gurdy Bernamer tells me that a New York first night is like nothing else on earth for bounderishness. He says that awful and obscene creatures come creeping from nowhere and flap about in free seats and that all the cinema queens appear covered with rubies115. It—”
The telephone on the table clicked but did not ring. Olive glared at the instrument. She abominated116 the telephone since it had brought her news of her son’s death. She finished her letter and climbed the stairs, aching for bed after a nervous day. Then she heard Margot talking behind the closed door of her room. The girl hadn’t a maid. Olive’s own maid was visible in her chamber117 at the end of the corridor. Olive passed on. She came back on impulse and heard “All right, Cossy. Carry on. ’By—ee.” Then the small clatter118 of Margot’s bedside telephone set on the glass of a table. Olive opened the door and saw the girl subsiding119 into the mass of her pillows.
“I’ve just blown Cosmo Rand up properly, Olive.”
“I wondered why you were talking.”
Margot yawned, “Gurdy asked me to write him. I’d rather talk. His dear wife’s back[212] from California and his voice sounded as though they’d been throwing supper dishes at each other. He didn’t seem pleased.”
“My dear, I don’t see why Mr. Rand should be pleased to be lectured on his art over the telephone at midnight!”
“It’s rather cheeky, isn’t it? But Gurdy made such a point of it. And all I could say was that he mustn’t be too difficult at rehearsals. But that’s all I could have said in a note. It seems to me that it’s distinctly dad’s business. But Gurdy’s such an everlasting120 old woman about dad! And I am rather responsible for bringing ‘Todgers’ over. Dare say I ought to help out, if I can.”
“Rand.”
“I meant the Cosmo. That’s not an American name at all.”
“Don’t know, I’m sure. I don’t like it, anyhow. But it might be his own. He’s from some town in Iowa and they name children fearful things like Eliander and Jerusha, out there.” She chuckled123, slipping a tawny124 shoulder in and out of her robe. Her face rippled125, “I really think Cosmo’s a rather ghastly name. Sounds like a patent soup. Wonder why they named dad Mark? Gurdy’s real name’s George.” She[213] yawned, “I suppose all actors get rather opinionated.”
“As they’re mostly rank egotists,” said Olive and closed the door.
Perplexity remained in her strongly wrestling with the desire for sleep. She lay composing a letter to Cosmo Rand—“As your position toward Mr. Walling is delicate and you are under obligations to Miss Walling may I suggest that you maintain a purely126 formal relation toward—” It wouldn’t do. Words to a shadow. She knew nothing of the man. He was a graceful figure at parties in London, considerably127 hunted by smart women for Sunday night dinners before the war. If the comedy failed and Mark dismissed him Rand might make an ill-tempered use of such a letter. Olive shrugged off the idea lay wondering why a pleasant voice and a head of curly hair seen across footlights should convince Margot that here was a great actor. It was disappointing. Olive had thought Margot steeled against crazes. The girl had a general appreciation128 of the arts as seen about London. Olive faintly sighed. But the pleasing man might embody129 some fancy or other, fulfil some buried wish. We go groping and stumbling among fancies, the woman thought, and see nothing very clearly. She consoled herself with the platitude and went to sleep.
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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maniacal
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| adj.发疯的 | |
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gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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velvet
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evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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retired
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platitude
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| n.老生常谈，陈词滥调 | |
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broker
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| n.中间人，经纪人；v.作为中间人来安排 | |
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brokers
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| n.（股票、外币等）经纪人( broker的名词复数 )；中间人；代理商；（订合同的）中人v.做掮客（或中人等）( broker的第三人称单数 )；作为权力经纪人进行谈判；以中间人等身份安排… | |
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mid
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villains
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| n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 )；罪犯；（小说、戏剧等中的）反面人物；淘气鬼 | |
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martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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gangsters
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| 匪徒，歹徒( gangster的名词复数 ) | |
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civilized
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sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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19
quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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21
atheist
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| n.无神论者 | |
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22
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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marine
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| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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25
artifice
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| n.妙计，高明的手段；狡诈，诡计 | |
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26
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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27
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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28
intrudes
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| v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的第三人称单数 )；把…强加于 | |
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29
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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30
treasurer
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| n.司库，财务主管 | |
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31
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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32
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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33
snobbery
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| n. 充绅士气派, 俗不可耐的性格 | |
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34
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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35
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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36
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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37
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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38
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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39
sapphire
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| n.青玉，蓝宝石；adj.天蓝色的 | |
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40
veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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41
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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42
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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43
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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44
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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45
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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46
tarts
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| n.果馅饼( tart的名词复数 )；轻佻的女人；妓女；小妞 | |
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47
tart
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| adj.酸的；尖酸的，刻薄的；n.果馅饼；淫妇 | |
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48
hogs
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| n.（尤指喂肥供食用的）猪( hog的名词复数 )；（供食用的）阉公猪；彻底地做某事；自私的或贪婪的人 | |
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49
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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50
rehearsals
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| n.练习( rehearsal的名词复数 )；排练；复述；重复 | |
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51
rehearsal
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| n.排练，排演；练习 | |
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52
tepid
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| adj.微温的，温热的，不太热心的 | |
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53
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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54
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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55
comedian
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| n.喜剧演员；滑稽演员 | |
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56
intrusive
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| adj.打搅的；侵扰的 | |
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57
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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58
briskness
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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59
trickled
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| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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60
dynamite
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| n./vt.(用)炸药(爆破) | |
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61
raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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62
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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63
moron
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| n.极蠢之人，低能儿 | |
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64
crates
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| n. 板条箱, 篓子, 旧汽车 vt. 装进纸条箱 | |
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65
wholesale
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| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
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66
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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67
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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68
fretted
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| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
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69
obdurate
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| adj.固执的，顽固的 | |
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70
sheathed
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| adj.雕塑像下半身包在鞘中的；覆盖的；铠装的；装鞘了的v.将（刀、剑等）插入鞘( sheathe的过去式和过去分词 )；包，覆盖 | |
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71
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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72
lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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73
deferentially
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| adv.表示敬意地，谦恭地 | |
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74
cuff
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| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
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75
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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76
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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77
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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78
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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79
grimaced
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
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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81
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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82
determinedly
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| adv.决意地；坚决地，坚定地 | |
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83
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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84
loathes
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的第三人称单数 )；极不喜欢 | |
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85
divan
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| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
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86
sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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87
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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88
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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89
tilting
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| 倾斜，倾卸 | |
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90
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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91
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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92
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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93
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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94
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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95
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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96
suavity
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| n.温和；殷勤 | |
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97
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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98
negligent
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| adj.疏忽的；玩忽的；粗心大意的 | |
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99
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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100
holder
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| n.持有者，占有者；(台，架等)支持物 | |
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101
walnut
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| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
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102
bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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103
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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104
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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105
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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106
adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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107
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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108
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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109
flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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110
robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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111
portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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112
addled
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| adj.（头脑）糊涂的，愚蠢的；（指蛋类）变坏v.使糊涂( addle的过去式和过去分词 )；使混乱；使腐臭；使变质 | |
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113
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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114
frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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115
rubies
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| 红宝石( ruby的名词复数 )； 红宝石色，深红色 | |
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116
abominated
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| v.憎恶，厌恶，不喜欢( abominate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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117
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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118
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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119
subsiding
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的现在分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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120
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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121
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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122
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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123
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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124
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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125
rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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126
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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127
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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128
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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129
embody
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| vt.具体表达，使具体化；包含，收录 | |
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