“TODGERS INTRUDES1” now went smoothly2. Mark came to one of the last rehearsals4, approved Russell’s method but, as they walked up Broadway, told Gurdy that this was a “lousy” play. All plays were just then nonsense beside “Captain Salvador.” Mark’s absorption seemed to exclude even Margot of whom the idolator once gently complained. The dark goddess had returned to town, been a week at the Fifty Fifth Street house and was sitting with Olive at the rear of the 45th Street Theatre. Her voice reached Mark clearly where he stood assembling the picture for a scene, a leg swung over the rail of the orchestra pit.
“She don’t seem so much interested in ‘Salvador,’ Gurd. Why’s that?”
“Rather heavy for her, perhaps.”
Mark rubbed his nose and accepted wisdom. A girl of eighteen mightn’t care for this tale of shipwrecked ruffians, frantic6 negroes, moonlit death. And what innocent girl of eighteen could know or believe that men got tired of women? Gurdy understood and was helpful, had found a[215] wailing7 negro song for the shipboard scene of the first act. Mark beamed at Gurdy, then turned to the stage and patiently corrected the six negro actors timid among the white folk of the big company, pathetic in sapphire8 and sage9 green suits.
“You boys in a circle ’round the table, left. Keep looking at Mr. Leslie.”
He picked spots for the grouping. His brown fingers pointed10. He named attitudes, dropping his lids as he built the picture with glances at the water colour sketch11 in his hand. An intricate chatter12 began on the stage. Gurdy slipped up the aisle13 and joined Olive under the balcony.
“How careful he is,” she whispered, “like a ballet master.”
Gurdy nodded, “No one’ll move without being told to. The whole thing’s planned. He’s going to run the lights himself in Boston, next Monday.”
“You’ll go up there with him? He looks dreadfully thin.” His black height made a centre against the footlights. His mastery of this human paint was impressive, admirable. He visibly laboured, silent, listening. She asked, “Would he work as hard over an ordinary, commercial play?”
“No. Oh, he’d work hard but not as hard as this.”
Margot glanced across Olive, then at her watch.[216] She said, “Let’s clear out, Olive. Teatime.”
“I’d much rather stay here. Fascinating.”
“But you told Mrs. Marlett Smith you’d come.”
Olive sighed and gathered her furs. It was important that Margot should go to this tea at the Marlett Smith house. Mrs. Marlett Smith was a liberal, amusing woman who had met Mark by way of some playwright14 and had called on Olive at the seaside cottage. They left the theatre and Gurdy came to open the door of the blue car. To him Margot suddenly spoke15, “How will dad open this silly thing in Boston, Monday night and get to Washington by Tuesday night to open ‘Todgers’?”
“We’ll be there,” he said and closed the door.
Olive looked back at his colourless dress, his shapely head and vanishing grave face with a frank wistfulness. “I don’t see why you should make such a point of annoying Gurdy. And why call this play silly when it’s so plainly good?... I’ve carefully refrained from asking you why you quarrelled with Gurdy. He behaves charmingly to you and keeps the peace.”
“Paying him back for being nasty about ‘Todgers Intrudes.’”
“But he’s not been nasty. He’s very sensibly given his opinion that it’s feeble. As it is.—The[217] man’s taking us down Broadway. Loathsome16 sewer17!”
The motor slowly passed toward Forty Second Street and across that jam. Olive saw lean and stolid18 Englishmen stalking in the harsh, dusty November wind that blew women along in the whirling similitude of rotted flowers. Margot got notice, here. There was a jerk of male heads from the curb19. Empty faces turned to the girl’s brilliance20 in rose cloth. A tanned sailor flapped his white cap. Yet in the Marlett Smith library on Park Avenue Margot was prettily21 discreet22 for half an hour below Chinese panels, among gayer frocks where she lost colour, merged23 in a fluctuation24 of dress. On the way home her restraint snapped into a “Damn!”
“Very stiff,” said Olive, “One reads about the American informality. Tea at Sandringham is giddy beside this. But Mrs. Marlett Smith’s clever. Who were those twins in black velvet25 who so violently kissed you?”
“The Vaneens. Ambrosine and Gretchen. Knew them at school. They come out in December.—But what maddens me is this everlasting26 jabber27 about France! Some of those girls know Gurdy. Their brothers were at Saint Andrew’s with him. He seems to have made himself frightfully conspicuous28 about Paris.—No,[218] I’m bored with Gurdy. If dad tries to make me marry him I’ll take poison and die to slow music. Such tosh! He made a gesture of enlisting—”
“You’re being silly,” Olive said, coldly hurt, “and I’m sick of the word, gesture. Pray, was the gesture of third rate artists and actors who wouldn’t leave their work anything madly glorious? I can understand a man conscious of great talent preferring to stick to his last. And I can understand a complete refusal to mix in the—abominable business. But I’ve no patience with dreary29 little wasters who shouted for blood and then took acetanilid to cheat the doctors. As for Gurdy’s military career he’s very quiet about it. I dislike this venom30 against Gurdy.”
Margot chuckled32, “Perhaps I’m jealous,” and got down before the house. She opened the door with her latchkey and they entered a flow of minor33 music from the drawing room. Gurdy was playing. Mark leaned on the curve of the piano and his brown hands were deeply reflected in the black pool of its top.
“Listen to this, Olive. Nigger song Gurdy raked up for ‘Captain Salvador.’ Sing it, sonny. Don’t run off, Margot. Listen.” He caught the girl to him, held her cheek against his chin. A scent34 of mild sandal and cigarettes ebbed35 from the black hair into his nostrils36. He was tired[219] after the tense rehearsal3 and chilled from half an hour in the cold of the Walling. This moving warmth and scent was luxury. Mark shut his eyes. Gurdy chanted in plausible37 barytone.
“Life is like a mountain railway,
From the cradle to the grave.
An’ yoh eyes—upon—the—rail....”
It would sound splendidly in the dim forecastle of the first scene. It would float and die under the blue vault39 of the Walling. He had just seen the lights turned on a recession of faint silver rims41 in the dull cloud of that ceiling. He was still drugged by the sight. His theatre was like a desirable body promised to his arms. Gurdy played again the slow air in curious variations, flutters of notes. Mark opened his eyes to watch the slide of the long fingers on the keys. Olive was smiling.
“Delightful42. Very moral, too. Sound advice. How well you play, Gurdy!”
“Always did,” said Mark, “He could play like a streak43 when he was ten. Come along up and have a fight with Mr. Carlson, daughter.”
Olive let Margot’s voice melt into the old man’s cackle above. Gurdy said, “We went to the Walling after rehearsal, Lady Ilden. Honestly, it’s a corker. The ceiling’s nearly finished. Theatres don’t last, worse luck. But there’s[220] nothing like it in the city. Mark’s worked like a pup over it.—How was your tea?”
“Very decent. Varieties of women, there. Almost no men. A débutante told me she admired Walt Whitman more than most English poets and was rather positive that he was English. I can’t understand the American tabu on Whitman.”
“But—good heavens!—I fascinated two elderly girls by telling them I knew Swinburne. Swinburne was lewd45. Poor Whitman was merely rather frank.”
“But Algie was a foreigner,” Gurdy laughed, “so it was all right. Margot have a good time?”
Olive asked, “What were you and Margot rowing about in the library last night? I could hear her voice getting acid.”
Gurdy commenced a waltz and said, “We weren’t rowing. Mark asked me whether Cosmo Rand was in the British army. He wasn’t and I said so. She seemed to think I was sniffing47 at Rand and blew me up a little. That was all. We made peace. I rather like Rand, you know, now that he’s stopped making an ass5 of himself at rehearsals. Russell and I had lunch with him today. He talks well. He knows a lot about painting, for instance. These actors who’ve been all over the landscape and don’t think they’re[221] better than Richard Mansfield—pretty interesting. There’s not much to Rand but he isn’t a—a walking egotism.”
Olive laughed, “Come back to Margot. She’s pointedly48 offensive to you and rather assertive49 about it. I hope you’ll go on being patient and try to remember how young she is. You’re very mature for twenty-one. You never bray50. I brayed51 very wildly at Margot’s age. I horribly recall telling Henry Arthur Jones how to improve his plays and one of my saddest memories is of telling a nice Monsieur Thibault what a poor novel Tha?s was. He quite agreed with me. I didn’t know he was Anatole France until he left the room. I’ve all the patience going with youth. You’re almost too mature.”
“Don’t know about being mature,” said Gurdy, “I’m not, probably. But every other book you read is all about youth—golden youth—youth always finds a way—ferment. Get pretty tired of it. Makes me want to be forty-nine. And some of the poets make me sick. Hammering their chests and saying, Yow! I’m young!... Not their fault. I’m not proud of being six foot one. Runs in the family.”
“That’s a very cool bit of conversation, old man. You’ve taken me away from Margot twice, very tactfully, so I’ll drop it. Play some Debussy. His music reminds me of a very handsome[222] man with too much scent on his coat. Can’t approve of it. Rather like it.”
He evaded52 discussions of Margot until Sunday night when he went with Mark to Boston for the opening of “Captain Salvador” there. On Monday night he sat, a spy, in the middle of the large audience. A critic had come from New York to see this play before it should reach the metropolitan53 shoals. Gurdy saw the slender, sharp face intent. The ten scenes of the Cuban romance passed without a hitch54 before the placid55 Bostonians. Mark was directing the lights that raised peaks of gloom on the walls, sent shimmerings along the moonlit beach where the hero squatted56 in a purple shadow. About him Gurdy heard appropriate murmurs57. A fat woman whimpered her objection to the half naked celebrants of the Voodoo scene. An old man complained that this was unlike life. Two smart matrons chatted happily about a Harvard cabal58 against some friend while “Captain Salvador” effected his wooing. A thin boy in spectacles wailed59 an argument that true art wasn’t possible in a capitalistic nation. A girl giggled60 every time the sailors of the story swore and almost whinnied when the word, “strumpet” rattled61 over the lights. But this herd62 redeemed64 itself in heavy applause. The thin boy wailed a blanket assent65 to the merits[223] of the plot and the setting, “After all, Walling’s Irish and he studied under Reinhardt in Berlin. The Kelts have some feeling for values.” Still the fat woman thought, loudly, that the play didn’t prove anything and Gurdy decided66 that one of his future satires67 must be named, The Kingdom of Swine. He found Mark in high delight behind the scenes, snapping directions to his manager, his leading man and the electrician in the New Jersey68 singsong. “Have the tomtom some louder for the Voodoo, Ike. Bill, you send all the notices special delivery to the Willard in Washington. Mr. O’Mara’s in Hayti if the Transcript69 wants an interview. Beach scene blue enough, Gurdy? All right, Ed, I told you it was. Now, Leslie, take your fall at the end quieter, a little. You’re all right, the rest of it. Come along, Gurdy. Taxi’s waiting.” In the taxi, he cried, “Damn this lousy ‘Todgers’ thing, son! I want to stay here. People liked it, huh?”
“They did.—Oh, you’re Irish and you learned all your business from Reinhardt.”
“Sure! Blame, it on Europe!—My God, didn’t the tomtom business go like a breeze?—Oh, this ‘Todgers’ thing’ll be too bad. Tell you, I’ll play it in Washington and Philadelphia. Baltimore, if it don’t just roll on its belly70 and die.[224] Sorry if Margot gets sore.—She and Olive went to Washington s’afternoon, didn’t they, huh?—Was the ship scene light enough, sonny?”
He sat in their stateroom on the train, his eyes still black with excitement and drank watered brandy. He dreamed of “Captain Salvador’s” first night at the Walling and tremors71 of applause mounting to the blue vault of that perfected ceiling. He was so tired that he struggled, undressing.
“Mark, you’re thin as a bean! Nothing but some muscles and skin.”
Mark flexed72 his arms, beamed up at the tall boy’s anxiety and rolled into his berth73. The mussed red hair disappeared under a pillow. Gurdy smoked and stared humbly74.... This was surely half of an artist, laborious75, patient, contriving76 beauty. The man had this strange perception of the lovely thing. He should do better and better. If his trade was that of the booth, the sale of charming sensualities, he raised it by his passion. He begot77 fondness. He created. Gurdy tucked the blankets over the blue silk pyjamas78 and planned a long talk on the purpose of the theatre for the morning, then wondered what that purpose was and put the lecture off. They fled all morning down the land and came to Washington in time for late lunch with Russell at the Shoreham where Mark halted to[225] look at a pretty, dark woman in the suave79, grey lounge smelling of flowers, fell behind Gurdy and Russell, found himself suddenly lifting his hat to Cora Boyle. She wore a cloak banded with black fur and a gold hat too young for her paint. Mark smiled, rather sorry for the blown coarseness of her chin, asked how she liked California and heard her flat voice crackle.
“A nightmare! All these girls who were absolutely no one last week in ten thousand dollar cars! No, I’m glad they brought me east. I’m taking three days off to see Cosmo start this. Tells me it plays here the rest of the week, then Philadelphia.—When are you bringing it into New York?”
He shifted a little and said, “Can’t say, Cora. Hard to get a house in New York, right now. This thing I’ve got at the Forty Fifth Street is doin’ big business. Todgers’ll be on the road two weeks, anyhow, before I decide what’ll become of it—”
“What are you opening the Walling with?”
“‘Captain Salvador.’ Opened in Boston last night. Best play I’ve ever touched! Say, remind me to send you seats when it opens the Walling.”
“That’s dear of you.—But couldn’t you get one of the small houses for Cosmo? The Princess or the Punch and Judy? Intimate comedy. Cosmo[226] really does better in a small house. And—” she smiled—“you could take a bigger one after a month or so.”
He had an awed80 second of wonder. She’d been almost thirty years on the stage and she thought “Todgers Intrudes” a good play! He began to say, “But, do you think this will—” Then two men charged up to shake hands with the actress. Mark scuttled81 down the stairs toward the grill82. If she was quarrelling with Rand her manner didn’t show it. “Cosmo really does better in a small house.” He joined Russell and Gurdy at their table, puzzled and said, “Say, if she’s fighting with Rand it’s funny she’d come down to see him open this flapdoodle.”
“Habit,” Russell shrugged83, “They’ve been married twelve years. But are they fighting? I had breakfast with them this morning and she almost crucified herself because his tea wasn’t right.”
Mark wondered why Margot thought that Rand and the woman quarrelled. But he shed the wonder. He liked Washington especially as the pale city showed itself now in a vapour where the abiding84 leaves seemed glazed85 in their red and yellow along the streets. Olive knew people here. There was a tea with a British attaché. Margot’s rose cloth suit gleamed about[227] the dancing floor of the restaurant. Gurdy had friends who were produced, fell subject to Margot and came between the acts that night to lean over the girl’s chair in the box of the big theatre. “Todgers Intrudes” went its placid course. Rand gave, Mark fancied, an excellent imitation of an English conservative. The packed house laughed at the right points. Margot’s face rippled86 so eagerly that Mark wanted to kiss it and covertly87 held her hand below the rail. Why, this was the pretty, gentle sort of nonsense eighteen years would relish88! A pity it had no staying wit. A pity this fragile, polished man she so admired wasn’t a real comedian89. Mark looked at Gurdy’s stolid boredom90 and the fine chest hidden by the dinner jacket beyond Olive’s bare shoulders. It might be as well to let Gurdy tell Margot the play wouldn’t do for New York. Mark shrank from that. Gurdy could put the thing much better in his cool, bred fashion.—Here and there men were leaving the theatre with an air of final retirement91. In the opposite box there was a waving of feathers. How well Cora Boyle could use a fan!—A youngster with curly orange hair slipped into his box as the second curtain fell. Gurdy introduced young Theodore Jannan to Olive and Margot, then to Mark. Mr. Jannan had come over from Philadelphia to do something[228] in Washington. This play—the Jannan heir bit off a “rotten”—was advertised as coming to Philadelphia next week.
“Opens there Monday,” said Mark.
“My mother’s giving a baby dance for my sister. Couldn’t you bring Miss Walling, Gurdy? Monday night.”
How smoothly Margot said she’d like to come to a dance at Mrs. Apsley Jannan’s house in Philadelphia! The nonsense of social position! An illusion. A little training, a little charm, good clothes.—A Healy, one of Margot’s cousins, had risen to be a foreman in one of the Jannan steel mills.—Gurdy had played football with this pleasant lad at Saint Andrew’s school. Who on earth would ever know or care that Margot and Gurdy were born on a farm? The last curtain fell. Margot wanted to dance. Russell came to join the party. They went to a restaurant and found a table at the edge of the oval floor. Margot’s yellow frock was swept off into the florid seething92 on Gurdy’s arm. Russell poured brandy neatly93 into the coffee pot and shrugged to Mark.
“Bad sign. Fifteen or twenty men left in the second act. We’ll have a vile94 time in Philadelphia, Lady Ilden. It’s a queer town on plays.—There come the Rands.”
A headwaiter lifted a “Reserved” sign from a table across the floor. Cora Boyle and her husband[229] appeared in the light threaded by cigarette smoke. The actress draped a green and black skirt carelessly, refused to dance with a British officer in a trim pantomime, bowed slowly to Mark who was taken with fright. She’d want to talk about this drivelling play and before her slight, quiet husband. He slipped a bill under the edge of Russell’s plate.
“Bring Olive back to the hotel will you Russell? I’m all in. ’Night, Olive.”
His retreat through the smoky tables was comic. Russell fingered his chin. Olive ended by laughing, “He’s ridiculously timid about her.”
The director patted his bald forehead and drank some coffee. He said, “It happens that he’s got some reason. Miss Boyle’s bad tempered and an inveterate95 liar96. She’s fond of her husband and she seems to think this comedy will have a New York run. Mr. Walling means to let it die on the road, naturally. She won’t like that. She’ll talk. Her voice will be loud all up and down Broadway.”
“Do you see anything callous about him? I don’t.” The director nodded to the floating of Margot’s skirt. “This is the first time I’ve ever directed a play put on to please a débutante, Lady Ilden.—No, Mr. Walling seems mighty98 sensitive[230] to gossip.—And Cora Boyle’s in a strong position. She’s a woman—obviously—and she can make a good yarn99. Spite, and so on. She’s quite capable of giving out interviews on the subject. She can’t hurt Mr. Walling but she might cause any quantity of gossip,—which he couldn’t very well answer. She can play the woman wronged, you see?”
“What a nation of woman worshippers you are!”
“Were,” said Russell, “We’re getting over it.”
“I don’t see any signs of it.”
Russell said, “You can’t send two million men into countries where women—well, admit that they’re human, not goddesses, anyhow, without getting a reaction. My wife’s a lawyer. She helped a young fellow—an ex-soldier—out of some trouble the other day and he told her she was almost as nice as a foreigner—Ten years ago if Cora Boyle had wanted to have a fight with Mr. Walling she could have taken the line that he was jealous of Rand and she’d have found newspapers that would print front page columns about it. She’d get about two paragraphs now.—But she probably has better sense. Beastly handsome, isn’t she?”
“Very—brutta bestia bella. Gurdy tells me she’s paid a thousand dollars a day to play Camille for the cinema. Why?”
[231]“Oh ... she’s the kind of thing a lot of respectable middle aged100 women adore, I think.—Look at them.”
There were many women in the rim40 of tables. They stared at the flaring101 green and black gown, at the exhibited bawdry of gold wrought102 calves103, at the feathers of the waving, profuse104 fan. There was an attitude of furtive105 adventure in the turn of heads. They stared, disapproved106, perhaps envied.
“‘Some men in this, some that, their pleasure take, but every woman is at heart a rake,’” Olive quoted.
The director laughed, “You’re right.—And I often think that the movie queens take the place of an aristocracy in this country. Something very fast and bold for the women to stare at. Now Rand, there, is the ideal aristocrat—in appearance, anyhow, don’t you think? And nobody’s looking at him. I wonder if Miss Walling would dance with me?”
He relieved Gurdy close to the Rand table. When the boy joined Olive she asked, “Mr. Russell isn’t a typical stage director, is he?... I thought not. One of the new school in your theatre? A well educated man?... Rather entertaining.”
“He writes a little. Been an engineer. Stage directors are weird107. One of them used to be an[232] Egyptologist.—I say, help me keep Mark here the rest of the week, will you? He’s dead tired. Did he run when he saw Cora Boyle coming?”
“Yes. He seems positively108 afraid of her!”
Gurdy said, “He is afraid of her. Great Scott, he was only sixteen when he married her and dad says he was—pretty blooming innocent. Mark’s all full of moral conventions, Lady Ilden. Ever noticed that?”
“When you were in pinafores, my child! I always thought he’d shed some of his Puritan fancies. He doesn’t.”
“Grandfather’s awfully109 strict, even if he is an atheist110. And mother ... isn’t what you’d call reckless. They brought him up. And he still thinks their ... well, moral standards are just about right.—I’m the same way. Got it pounded into me at school that bad grammar and loud clothes were immoral. Don’t suppose I’ll get over that.—Mark says he’s never flirted111 with a married woman in his life.”
Olive yawned, “I don’t suppose that he has, consciously. Oh, to be sure, I can understand why Mark would think of Miss Boyle as the Scarlet112 Woman. The Puritan upbringing.—We never quite get over early influences, Gurdy. I always find myself bristling113 a bit over dropped H’s even when a famous novelist does the dropping.—Mark prophesies114 bad reviews for the play,[233] in the morning. Do leave word to have the papers sent up to me. I’m so sleepy I shall forget about it.—Thank heaven, Margot’s stopped dancing.”
In their double bedroom at the New Willard Margot talked jauntily115 of “Todgers Intrudes,” until Olive fell asleep wondering why the girl should interpret amiable116 laughter as the shout of success. In the morning two newspapers arrived with breakfast. The critics praised the acting117 and both sniffed118 at the play. Olive read the columns over her tea. Both critics dealt kindly119 with Rand. One thought his manner resembled that of Cyril Maude, the other said that he imitated George Arliss. Margot came trailing a green robe from the bathtub and stood pressed against the brass120 bedfoot reading the comments. The sun redoubled on her silver girdle and the numerous polychrome tassels121 of the foolish, charming drapery inside which her body stirred before she cried, “How American! Thin! It’s no thinner than that rot dad has running at the Forty Fifth Street!”
“My darling Margot, that’s thin American comedy. It’s something national, comprehensible. As for ‘Todgers,’ why—why should you expect a pack of American war office clerks and provincials122 to care whether a Baron123 precedes an Earl or no? I can’t help being surprised that so[234] many of them seemed to know what it was all about! The play is thin—horribly thin. I’m sure it did well at home on account of Maurice Ealy’s following. The critics say rather nice things about Rand, all things considered.... Well, were you impressed with him last night? Do you still think he’s a fine actor?”
Margot tilted124 her face toward the ceiling and the sun made a visard across her narrowed eyes. She twisted the silver girdle between her hands and stood silent. Olive felt the final barrier between creatures, suddenly and keenly. She had lived in intimacy125 with the girl for five years. Here was a strange mind revolving126 under the black, carven hair and the mask of sun.
“No, I didn’t think him very good, last night. Nervous.—And perhaps the play did seem rather thin.... But it’ll do better in New York. More civilized127 people, there.”
Olive lifted her breakfast tray to the bedside table and thought. Then her patience snapped, before the girl’s sunny and motionless certitude. She said, “New York! Do you think Mark will risk bringing this poor ghost of a thing to New York? Hardly! He told me last night it will be played in Philadelphia and Baltimore, then he’ll discard it.—You’re silly, dearest! The play’s wretched and Rand’s no better than a hundred other young leading men I’ve seen.[235] He appeals to you for some reason or other. He seems very, very feeble to me. He has no virility128, no—”
The silver girdle broke between the tawny129 hands. Margot’s face rippled. She said loudly, “This is all Gurdy! He doesn’t like the play! He’s made dad dislike it. He—”
Olive cut in, “I shan’t listen to that! That’s mere46 ill temper and untrue. The play is a waste of Mark’s time and of his money.—Between your very exaggerated loyalty130 to Ronny Dufford and your liking131 for this doll of an actor you’ve probably cost Mark three or four thousand pounds. He produced this play entirely132 to please you. Don’t tease him any farther. Don’t try to make him bring this nonsense to New York. You’ve a dreadful power over Mark. Don’t trade on it! You’re behaving like a spoiled child. You disappoint me!”
The black eyes widened. Margot pushed herself back from the bed with both hands, staring. She said, “I—I dare say.... Sorry.”
“You should be!... He’s done everything he can to keep you amused. He isn’t a millionaire. You’ve been treated like a mistress of extravagant133 tastes, not like a daughter! There is such a thing as gratitude134. He’s humoured you in regard to this silly play and in regard to Rand. Gurdy and Mr. Russell tell me that Cora Boyle[236] can make herself a disgusting nuisance now that the play’s a failure. You’ve pushed Mark into this very bad bargain. Don’t make it worse by whimpering, now, and don’t—”
“Oh, please!”
“Then please bite on the bullet and let’s hear no more of this. When Mark tells you he’ll drop the play, don’t tease him.”
Margot said, “Poor Ronny Dufford! I thought—”
“I’m sorry Ronny’s broke. It’s the destiny of younger sons whose fathers had a taste for baccarat. I shall start for Japan as soon as I’ve seen the Walling opened. I shan’t go in a very easy frame of mind if I feel that you’ve constituted yourself a charitable committee of one with Mark as treasurer135.”
Olive laughed. Margot said, “Yes, m’lady,” and made a curtsey, then fluttered off to telephone for breakfast, began to chuckle31 and the delicate chime of that mirth was soothing136, after the rasp of Olive’s tirade137. The girl seemed unresentful. Olive had never so seriously scolded her. Now she thought that she should talk to Mark about his folly138. This idolatry was delightful to watch but unhealthy, a temptation to Margot. The girl had other pets in London. There was an amateur actress constantly wobbling on the edge of professional engagements. Two[237] or three of the young painters experimented in stage setting. She deliberated and listed these artists to Mark while they were driving about the broad city in a hired victoria.
“All nice children and hopeless dabblers, old man. Beware of them or you’ll have the house filled with immigrants. Rand’s a giant beside any of them.”
“The little man ain’t so bad. Guess I’ll put him in as leading man for a woman in a Scotch139 play I’m going to work on after Christmas. That’ll shut Cora Boyle up. He’ll do, all right. I’ll offer him the part when I tell him ‘Todgers’ goes to Cain’s.”
“To—where?”
“It’s a warehouse140 in New York where dead plays go—the scenery, I mean.” Mark pointed to a full wreath of steam floating above the Pan American building, “Watch it go. No wind. Ought to last a minute.—Busted,” he sighed, as the lovely cream melted. “But I ain’t sorry this happened, Olive. Teach her she don’t know so much about the show business. ‘Todgers’ll’ make a little money here because the town’s packed full. But I’m afraid Philadelphia’ll be its Waterloo. Well, the Boston Transcript had three columns on ‘Captain Salvador.’ It’s in the biggest theatre in Boston and they had standing142 room only last night. Gurdy got a wire from a[238] kid he knows in Harvard that a couple of professors came out of the woods and told their classes to go see the thing.”
His talk came turning back to “Captain Salvador” for the rest of the week. He was bodily listless after the strain of the Boston production. Gurdy forced him to play golf and tramp the spread city when Olive and Margot were at teas in the British colony. Russell often walked and every night dined with them, examining Margot with his sharp hazel eyes so that Gurdy fancied the man exhaling143 her essence with his cigarette smoke. He sat with Gurdy on Monday afternoon in the smoking car on the road to Philadelphia and observed, “Miss Walling’s very much interested in ‘Todgers.’ How will she take the blow when it fails, here? It’ll be a flat failure, tonight, Gurdy. See if it isn’t.”
“It’ll flop very flat and hard. I’m a Philadelphian. You should warn Miss Walling.”
Mark startled Gurdy by warning Margot during tea in the small suite145 of the Philadelphia hotel while she stood at the tin voiced piano rattling146 tunes147 with one hand. Mark said nervously148, “Now, sister, if ‘Todgers’ is a fluke here—why, I can’t waste time and cash fooling with it any[239] longer.” He coughed and finished, “I’ll send your friend Dufford a check and—amen.”
“You’re an old duck,” said Margot, “and I’ll be good. Shan’t ever try to choose another play for you—never, never, never.” She tinkled149 the negro song from “Captain Salvador” tapping one foot so that the silver buckle150 sparkled. “Wish I could sing.... Life is like a—what’s good old life like, Gurdy?”
“Like a mountain railway.”
She passed Gurdy, leaving the room. He saw her teeth white against the red translucency153 of her lower lip and carmine154 streaks155 rising in her face, but her door shut slowly.
“Took it like a Trojan,” Mark proudly said, “Guess the Washington papers opened her eyes some. Well, let’s go see if Russell’s downstairs, Gurd. He’s got a room on this floor. Gad156, Olive, I wish we were goin’ to a dance tonight instead of this—junk.”
“Margot should wear something very smart for this dance, shouldn’t she?” Olive asked. “The Jannans are the mighty of earth, aren’t they?”
“Old family. Steel mills,” Gurdy explained.
“I’ve met some of them in Scotland. Wasn’t there a Miss Jannan who did something extraordinary?[240] I remember a row in the New York papers. Didn’t she—”
Mark laughed, “Ran off with a married man. They’ve got a couple of kids, too.”
Mark chuckled and drawled, “Now, here! You make out you’re a wild eyed radical157 and so on. Suppose some girl that ought to know better came and lived next you in Chelsea with a married man. Ask her to dinner?”
“I cheerfully would if I thought her worth knowing, gentle Puritan! If I thought she was simply a sloppy158, uncontrolled sentimentalist I should no more bother myself than I would to meet a society preacher or some hero of the Russian ballet who’s paid a hundred guineas a night to exhibit his abdominal159 surface in the name of art.... Six o’clock. I should tub, myself. I’ve several cinders160 on my spine161. Run along, both of you.”
Mark said on the way to the elevators, “Olive’s a wonder, ain’t she, bud? Don’t know why but she always puts me in mind of your dad. Calm and cool.—Oh, say, tomorrow’s your mamma’s birthday!”
“It is. And I’m going up to the farm, after lunch. ‘Todgers Intrudes’ has got me—”
“Shut up,” said Mark, seeing Cosmo Rand[241] ringing the button for the elevator. He beamed at the actor and asked in the car, “Mrs. Rand went back to New York?”
“Yes. Just been talking to her by ’phone. They started the film of ‘Camille’ today. Very trying, she said. They’ve some promoted cowboy playing Armand.—I say, I’ve some quite decent gin in my flask162. We might have a cocktail163.”
Gurdy thought how clever the man was to wear grey, increasing his height and embellishing164 his rosy165 skin. He understood dress expertly. At the Jannan dance, toward midnight, a girl told him that she’d just come from a “simply idiotic166 play” but praised Rand’s appearance. “Englishmen do turn themselves out so well.”
The dance was supported by sparkling Moselle and Gurdy didn’t have to perform with Margot. She found friends. He was summoned to be introduced to a young Mrs. Calder who at once invited him to dine the next evening. Gurdy excused himself on the score of his mother’s birthday. As they drove away from the emptying house Margot explained, “Peggy Calder’s nice. She was in the Red Cross in London. You’re really going up to the farm?”
“Certainly.”
She said nothing, restless in her dark cloak for a time then chattered167 about the Jannan grandeur168. She enjoyed spectacles. The great suburban[242] house and the green ballroom169 pleased her. “But you people drink too much, you know? Mrs. Jannan’s a second wife, isn’t she? Rather pretty. Heavens, what a long way back to the hotel!”
“You’re tired.”
“Frightfully. And blue.... Can’t you make dad try ‘Todgers’ in New York, Gurdy?” Directly and with a sharp motion she added, “No. That’s utterly170 silly. I’ve no business asking it.... But I do feel—And yet I don’t know the New York taste—You really think it wouldn’t do?”
“I really don’t, Margot. And you can’t get a theatre for love, blood or money. They’re even trying to buy theatres to bring plays into. Mark would have to run the play on the road for weeks—months, perhaps, before he could get a theatre.”
She dropped the matter, spoke of the dance again and at the hotel hurried up the corridor to her rooms. Mark sat up as Gurdy slid into the other bed of his chamber171 and passed a hand across his throat, “Oh, son, what an evening! ‘Todgers’ to the boneyard! Crape on the door!”
“Fizzled? People were knocking it at the Jannan’s.”
“Awful! Every one coughed. I will say Rand worked hard. No, it’s dead. I’ll let it run tomorrow night and then close it.—Stick with me[243] tomorrow. I’ll have to break the bad news to Rand.”
He broke the news to Rand just as Gurdy was leaving to take the train for Trenton, after lunch. The actor strolled up to them beside the door, a grey furred coat over his arm and his bronze eyes patently anxious.
“Going away, Bernamer?”
“The country.”
“Decent day for it.... I say, Walling, they weren’t nice to us in the papers.”
Gurdy saw Mark begin to act. The voice deepened to its kindest drawl. Mark said, “Just called up the theatre. Only sold two hundred seats for tonight and its almost three, now. That’s too bad.”
Rand passed the polished nails along the soft moustache. The sun of the door sent true gold into his hair. He murmured, “Shocking bad, eh? We play Baltimore, next week, don’t we?”
“No,” said Mark, easily, “It’s too thin. I’ll close it tonight.—Now, I’m putting on a piece called the ‘Last Warrior172.’ English. Start rehearsals after Christmas. Good part for you in that. Marion Hart’s the lead. Know her? Nice to play with and a damned good play.”
“Oh—thanks awfully.—Yes, I know Miss Hart.—Thanks very much, sir.... You shan’t risk bringing ‘Todgers’ to New York?”
[244]“No. I’m sorry. You’ve worked mighty hard and I like your work. You’ll be a lot better off in this other play.... ‘Todgers’ is too thin, Rand. Might have done five or six years back.”
The actor nodded. “Dare say you’re right, sir. Bit of a bubble, really. And awfully good of you to want me for this other thing. Be delighted to try.... Yes, this was rather bubblish:—Anyhow, this lets me out of Baltimore. I do hate that town. Well, thanks ever so. Better luck next time, let’s hope.”
He walked off, grey into the duller grey of the columned lounge. Mark nodded after him. “Took it damned well, Gurdy. He’ll be all right in this other show and Cora can’t say I haven’t been decent to him. Well, hustle173 along. Got that whiskey for your dad? Give ’em my love.—Look at that pink car, for lordsake! Vulgarity on four wheels, huh?—So long, sonny.”
Gurdy was glad that Rand hadn’t whined174. This was a feeble, tame fellow without much attraction beyond his handsome face. Perhaps it was for this mannerly tameness that Margot liked him. Perhaps that fable175 of women liking the masterly male was faulty. Margot liked to domineer. She had bullied176 Rand a trifle at the rehearsal in London. Perhaps Cora Boyle liked the tame little creature for some such reason. Gurdy dismissed him and the theatre. There was vexing[245] sadness in the collapse177 of even so poor a play. Russell and the actors had worked. It came to nothing. Bubble! Expensive, futile178, unheroic evanescence. Margot’s fault. He mustn’t let Mark do such a thing again. The girl must confine her restless self to dances and clothes. She had looked very well at the Jannan party. She had smartness, instant magnetism179. She was still asleep and would dine with her acquaintance, Mrs. Calder, tonight. Gurdy yawned as Trenton foully180 spouted181 its industry toward the sky. Bernamer was waiting with the car at the station, gave him a crushing hug and told him that he looked like hell.
“Danced all night.”
“I see you did in the Ledger182. Among those present at the Apsley Jannan’s party. Your mamma’s all upset about it. Saw a movie of a millionaire party with naked hussies ridin’ ostriches183 in the conserv’tory. She thinks Margot’s led you astray. How’s this ‘Tod’ play done?”
“It’s all done, dad. Closes tonight.”
Bernamer sent the car through Trenton and cursed Margot astoundingly. “Ten or twelve thousand dollars! The little skunk184! Cure Mark of listening to her. Say, he still wanting you to marry her, bud?”
“Afraid he is, dad.”
[246]“Sure. Next best he could do to marryin’ her himself. Funny boy. Likes her ’cause she’s pretty. Black hair.—This English woman’s blackheaded, ain’t she?... Well, you sic’ some feller onto Margot and get her off Mark’s hands. If you fell in love with her again, your mamma’d puff185 up and bust141.”
“Again?”
Bernamer gave him a blue stare and winked186, wrinkling his nose. His weathered face creased187 into a snort. “Sure, you were losin’ sleep over her ’fore she got back from England.”
“Not now, daddy.” Gurdy wondered about the absolute death of his passion. His father, who so seldom saw him, knew it was done. Mark saw him daily, talked to him of Margot urgently and saw nothing.
“Well,” said Bernamer, “Mark’s awful fond of you. And you ain’t bad, reelly. Don’t you get married until you catch one you can stand for steady diet. Oh, your mamma’s gone on a vegetable diet and lost four pounds in two weeks. Ed’s got a boil on his neck—bad, too, poor pup. Jim done an algebra188 problem right yesterday and made a touchdown Saturday. He’s got his head swelled189 a mile.”
The man’s tolerant dealing190 with his family impressed Gurdy. Here was a controlled and level affection, not Mark’s worship. It was a healthier[247] thing. He watched his father’s amiable scorn while Mrs. Bernamer and the whole household fussed variously over young Edward’s inflamed191 neck after supper. The boil was central in the talk of the red living room. Grandfather Walling tried to think of some ancient remedy and fell asleep pondering. The two bigger lads hovered192 and chuckled over the eruption193. The sisters neglected some swains who came calling. Mrs. Bernamer sat mending the grey breeches of the military uniform Edward wasn’t wearing. The boil maintained itself over gossip of the village, the Military Academy and female questions about the Jannan dance. At ten Bernamer said, “Go to bed, all of you. Got to talk business to Gurdy.” The family kissed Gurdy and departed. Grandfather Walling’s snore roamed tenderly down into the stillness. Bernamer got out the chessboard and uncorked a bottle of vicious pear cider. They smoked and played the endless game. At twelve the telephone bell shore off his father’s sentences. Gurdy clapped a palm on the jangling at his elbow and picked up the instrument. Olive Ilden spoke in her most artificial, clearest voice.
“We’re in New York, dear. The doctor telephoned about eight and we came up directly. I think you’d best come, Gurdy.”
“Mr. Carlson?”
[248]“Yes. He’ll be gone in a few hours. Mark’s so distressed194 and—the old man asked for you.”
Bernamer said, “No train until three thirty, son.”
“I’ll get there as fast, as I can,” Gurdy told her, “Margot there?”
“No. She’d gone to dine with her friend—Mrs. Calder—and Mark didn’t want her here. I’ll tell Mark you’re coming, then. Good-bye.”
Gurdy rang off. His father nodded, “Mark’ll miss the old feller. Been mighty good to him. Funny old man. Always liked him. Poor Mark! Well, you say this Englishwoman’s sensible. That’s some help.”
Gurdy was glad of Olive’s sanity195, wished that the thought of this death didn’t make his heart thump196 for a little. His father would drive him into Trenton at two. They played chess again. Bernamer made sandwiches of beef and thick bread. The red walls clouded with cigarette smoke. It was two when the bell again rang.
“Dead, prob’ly,” said Bernamer.
The operator asked for Gurdy. There was a shrill197 wrangling198 of women behind which a man spoke loudly and savagely199. His impatience200 cracked through the buzzing. It wasn’t Mark when the man spoke clearly at last.
“This is Russell, Gurdy. Can you hear? You must come here at once.”
[249]“To Philadelphia? What’s happened? Mr. Carlson’s dying and—”
“I know. And I can’t bother Walling. You must come here as fast as you can. Can you speak German?... I’ll try to talk French; then.”
After a moment Gurdy said, “All right. I’ll come as fast as I can. Get hold of the hotel manager. Money—”
“The detective’s got a check. That’s all right. Hurry up, though.”
Gurdy found himself standing and dropped the telephone. It brushed the chessmen in a clattering201 volley to the floor. His father’s blue eyes bit through the smoke.
“When’s a train to Philadelphia, dad?”
“That damn fool girl gone and got herself into—”
“This actor!... Of course she has! Of course! Oh, hell! In her room! When’s there a train to Philadelphia?”
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收听单词发音
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1
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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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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3
rehearsal
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| n.排练，排演；练习 | |
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rehearsals
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| n.练习( rehearsal的名词复数 )；排练；复述；重复 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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sapphire
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| n.青玉，蓝宝石；adj.天蓝色的 | |
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sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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10
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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12
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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13
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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14
playwright
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| n.剧作家，编写剧本的人 | |
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15
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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16
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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17
sewer
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| n.排水沟，下水道 | |
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18
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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19
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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21
prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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22
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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23
merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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24
fluctuation
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| n.(物价的)波动，涨落；周期性变动；脉动 | |
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25
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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26
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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27
jabber
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| v.快而不清楚地说；n.吱吱喳喳 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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29
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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30
venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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31
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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32
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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34
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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35
ebbed
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的过去式和过去分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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36
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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37
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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38
throttle
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| n.节流阀，节气阀，喉咙；v.扼喉咙，使窒息，压 | |
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39
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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40
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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41
rims
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| n.（圆形物体的）边( rim的名词复数 )；缘；轮辋；轮圈 | |
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42
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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43
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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44
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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45
lewd
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| adj.淫荡的 | |
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46
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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47
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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48
pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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49
assertive
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| adj.果断的，自信的，有冲劲的 | |
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50
bray
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| n.驴叫声, 喇叭声；v.驴叫 | |
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51
brayed
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| v.发出驴叫似的声音( bray的过去式和过去分词 )；发嘟嘟声；粗声粗气地讲话（或大笑）；猛击 | |
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52
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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53
metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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54
hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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55
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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56
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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57
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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58
cabal
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| n.政治阴谋小集团 | |
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59
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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62
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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63
redeem
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| v.买回，赎回，挽回，恢复，履行（诺言等） | |
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64
redeemed
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| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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65
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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66
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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67
satires
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| 讽刺，讥讽( satire的名词复数 )； 讽刺作品 | |
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68
jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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69
transcript
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| n.抄本，誊本，副本，肄业证书 | |
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70
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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71
tremors
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| 震颤( tremor的名词复数 )； 战栗； 震颤声； 大地的轻微震动 | |
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72
flexed
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| adj.[医]曲折的，屈曲v.屈曲( flex的过去式和过去分词 )；弯曲；（为准备大干而）显示实力；摩拳擦掌 | |
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73
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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74
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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75
laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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76
contriving
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| （不顾困难地）促成某事( contrive的现在分词 )； 巧妙地策划，精巧地制造（如机器）； 设法做到 | |
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77
begot
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| v.为…之生父( beget的过去式 )；产生，引起 | |
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78
pyjamas
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| n.（宽大的）睡衣裤 | |
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79
suave
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| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
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80
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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82
grill
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| n.烤架，铁格子，烤肉；v.烧，烤，严加盘问 | |
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83
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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84
abiding
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| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
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85
glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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86
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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87
covertly
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| adv.偷偷摸摸地 | |
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88
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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89
comedian
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| n.喜剧演员；滑稽演员 | |
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90
boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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91
retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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92
seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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93
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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94
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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95
inveterate
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| adj.积习已深的，根深蒂固的 | |
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96
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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97
callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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98
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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99
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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100
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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101
flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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102
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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103
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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104
profuse
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| adj.很多的，大量的，极其丰富的 | |
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105
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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106
disapproved
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| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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108
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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109
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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110
atheist
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| n.无神论者 | |
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111
flirted
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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112
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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113
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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114
prophesies
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的第三人称单数 ) | |
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115
jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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116
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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117
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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118
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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119
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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120
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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121
tassels
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| n.穗( tassel的名词复数 )；流苏状物；（植物的）穗；玉蜀黍的穗状雄花v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须( tassel的第三人称单数 )；使抽穗， （为了使作物茁壮生长）摘去穗状雄花；用流苏装饰 | |
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122
provincials
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| n.首都以外的人，地区居民( provincial的名词复数 ) | |
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123
baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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124
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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125
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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126
revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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127
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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128
virility
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| n.雄劲，丈夫气 | |
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129
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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130
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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131
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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132
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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133
extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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134
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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135
treasurer
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| n.司库，财务主管 | |
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136
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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137
tirade
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| n.冗长的攻击性演说 | |
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138
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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139
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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140
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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141
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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142
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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143
exhaling
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| v.呼出，发散出( exhale的现在分词 )；吐出（肺中的空气、烟等），呼气 | |
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144
flop
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| n.失败(者)，扑通一声；vi.笨重地行动，沉重地落下 | |
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145
suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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146
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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147
tunes
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| n.曲调，曲子( tune的名词复数 )v.调音( tune的第三人称单数 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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148
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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149
tinkled
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| （使）发出丁当声，（使）发铃铃声( tinkle的过去式和过去分词 )； 叮当响着发出，铃铃响着报出 | |
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150
buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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151
simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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152
metaphor
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| n.隐喻，暗喻 | |
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153
translucency
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| 半透明，半透明物； 半透澈度 | |
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154
carmine
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| n.深红色，洋红色 | |
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155
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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156
gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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157
radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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158
sloppy
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| adj.邋遢的，不整洁的 | |
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159
abdominal
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| adj.腹（部）的，下腹的；n.腹肌 | |
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160
cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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161
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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162
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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163
cocktail
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| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
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164
embellishing
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| v.美化( embellish的现在分词 )；装饰；修饰；润色 | |
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165
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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166
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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167
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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168
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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169
ballroom
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| n.舞厅 | |
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170
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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171
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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172
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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173
hustle
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| v.推搡；竭力兜售或获取；催促；n.奔忙(碌) | |
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174
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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175
fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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176
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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177
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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178
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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179
magnetism
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| n.磁性，吸引力，磁学 | |
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180
foully
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| ad.卑鄙地 | |
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181
spouted
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| adj.装有嘴的v.（指液体）喷出( spout的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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182
ledger
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| n.总帐，分类帐；帐簿 | |
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183
ostriches
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| n.鸵鸟( ostrich的名词复数 )；逃避现实的人，不愿正视现实者 | |
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184
skunk
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| n.臭鼬，黄鼠狼；v.使惨败，使得零分；烂醉如泥 | |
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185
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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186
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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187
creased
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 皱皱巴巴 | |
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188
algebra
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| n.代数学 | |
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189
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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190
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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191
inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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192
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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193
eruption
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| n.火山爆发；（战争等）爆发；（疾病等）发作 | |
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194
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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195
sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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196
thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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197
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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198
wrangling
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| v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的现在分词 ) | |
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199
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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200
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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201
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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