OLIVE left the telephone table and strolled across the bright library to the fire. The sussuration of dragged silk behind her moving gown gave her a queer discomfort1; there had been no time to change in the rush; it seemed improper2 to attend a death-bed in evening dress. And she was intrusive3, here, and helpless. Mark’s pain was calm. He would suffer later, at the end of these hours or minutes. The bored, plump doctor came into the library, closed the door and lit a cigarette, joining Olive at the warm hearth4.
“He was asking for Miss Walling, just now.”
“Ah? She’s in Philadelphia. She was dining with some friends at the Ritz, there, so we left her.”
The doctor said, “Very sensible,” and blew a smoke ring. Under its dissolution his eyes admired Olive’s shoulders then, the pastel of Gurdy in a black frame on the mantel.
“Tell me,” Olive asked, “how—how far is he conscious?”
[251]“It would be interesting to know. In these collapses5 we’re not sure. His conscious mind probably asserts itself, now and then. The unconscious—I really can’t say. Still, before you and Mr. Walling came he spoke6 in Swedish several times. And that’s the unconscious. He forgot his Swedish years ago. Been in this country ever since eighteen sixty-eight. But he spoke Swedish quite correctly and very fast. I’m a Swede. It surprised me.”
“Indeed,” said Olive and shivered before his science, cool, weary, not much interested.
The doctor looked at his watch, murmured, “Twelve thirty,” and tossed his cigarette in the fire. He observed, “But the old gentleman’s in no pain. The reversion’s very interesting. He was talking to some one about Augustin Daly. Very interesting.” The clipped, brisk voice denied the least interest. The doctor went from the library as Olive heard wheels halt outside. This couldn’t be Gurdy. She looked through a window and recognized her maid paying a taxicab driver. The black and yellow taxicab trembled behind a car entirely7 black and windowless; the undertaker awaited Carlson’s body. Olive drew the curtains across the glass, shook herself and went down to speak with her maid.
“Margot hadn’t come back from her dinner when you came away, Lane?”
[252]“No, m’lady. Such a noosance getting the luggage to the station, down there.... Might I have some tea in your pantry, Mr. Collins?” the woman asked Mark’s butler as Olive turned away. These two would sit in the butler’s pantry drinking tea and discussing deaths. Olive went up the soft stairs and into Carlson’s bedroom behind the library. She entered an immutable8 group. The two nurses sat in a corner. The doctor examined one of the framed, old photographs that pallidly9 gleamed on the walls made brown by the lowered light. Mark stood with his hands clutching the white bedfoot. His black seemed to rise supernatural from the floor. He was taller, thinner. He glared at the stretched length of his patron. To Olive the dying man appeared more like an exhumed10 Pharaoh than ever. The yellow head was unchanged. She had a dizzy, picturesque11 fancy that his eyes might open, that he might speak in some unknown, sonorous12 dialect of the Nile. As she dropped a hand beside Mark’s fingers on the rail the old man spoke without breath in a sound of torn fabric13 yet with an airy, human amusement. “All right, Mister Caz’nove. Don’t git flustered14. I’ll tell Miss Morris.”
Mark writhed15. The plastron of his shirt crackled. He gripped Olive’s arm and drew her from the room. In the hall he panted, “Augustin[253] Daly’s prompter—a Frenchman—I guess he meant Clara Morris.” But in the cooler hall, away from the insufferable bed, he was ashamed. This was bad behaviour, unmanly, ridiculous. He smiled timidly at Olive who suddenly put her hands on his face and kissed him.
“I talked to Gurdy. He’ll be here as soon as he can, dear.”
“Thanks. Got to go back.” Mark sighed, “You go to bed, though.”
“No.”
Mark didn’t want her to go to bed. He smiled and went back to his watch. Odious16 time passed. The smell of cigarettes crept from the walls and the furniture. Carlson had smoked many thousands here. One of the nurses clicked a string of beads17. The tiny cross was silver and lustrous18 as it swung. The beads seemed amethyst19. What good did the woman think she was doing? But she had liked Carlson. She was praying for his soul and Carlson thought he had a soul. Let her pray. The amethyst flicker20 soothed21 Mark, took his eyes from the bed. The voice surprised him with his name.
“Mark.”
“Yessir.”
“It’s a poor house. Rain....”
Mark’s throat was full of dry fire. He gripped the rail, waiting. But the voice did not[254] come again. After four the doctor nodded. One nurse yawned. The Irishwoman fell gently on her knees under the large, signed photograph of Ada Rehan in the frilled, insolent22 dress of Lady Teazle. Olive led Mark quickly from the room into the library. He pressed his hands on his eyes. He wouldn’t cry over this. Carlson had too often called him a crybaby, a big calf23.
“Dear Mark.”
“Oh ... can’t be helped.—God, I did want him to see the Walling! Won’t be any funeral. Body goes straight to Sweden.... He’s left Gurdy and Margot some money.... Awful kindhearted.... Lot of old down and out actors’d come here. Gave ’em money. Awful kind to me.... No reason.” His husky speech made a chant for his old friend. Olive’s eyes filled. He was childish in his woe24, charming. She wished that he’d weep so she could fondle the red hair on her shoulder. This would hurt his pleasure in the new theatre and the splendid play. The butler came in after the heavy, descending25 motion of men on the stairs was over and the dull wheels had rolled off from the curb26. He brought a small, gold capped bottle and two glasses on his tray.
“Doctor Lundquist said to bring this up, sir.”
The champagne27 whispered delicately in the glasses and washed down the muffling28, dry taste[255] from Mark’s tongue. He smiled at Olive and said, “Dunno what I’d have done without you bein’ here.” What a brave woman! Her daughter had died swiftly of pneumonia29 before Olive could reach her. Her son had been blown to pieces.
“I’m glad Gurdy didn’t get here,” she said, “He’s seen quite enough of death and he was fond of Mr. Carlson.”
“Of course. Fonder than Margot was. Bein’ a man, though, he never showed it so much.”
Olive hoped that Margot would never tell him how she disliked the old man’s coarseness, his manifold derisions. She said, “But go to bed, Mark. You really should. These things strain one.”
“Awful. They packed me off to Aunt Edith’s when mamma died. First time I ever saw any one I liked.... Frohman was drowned. Clyde Fitch died in France. Good night, Olive.”
He wished she would kiss him again and watched her pass up to her rooms. Then he went to bed, without thinking, and slept. He slept soundly and woke slowly into warm, luxurious30 sun that mottled the blue quilt. He said, “Hello, brother,” to Gurdy who leaned on the dresser between the windows, solemn and grieved in a dark suit, his pale hair ruffled31 and gay with light. Gurdy must be cheered up. “Well, you[256] missed it. He didn’t have a pain. When did you get here?”
“A while ago. I—dad’s here.”
“Eddie? Well, that’s good of him.”
Bernamer came about the bed and dropped a hand on Mark’s chest. He said nothing, but grinned and sat down. His seemly clothes and cropped head made him amazingly like Gurdy. Mark beamed at both of them. “Had your breakfast?”
“Hell, yes,” said Bernamer, “Had two. Got some coffee in Philadelphia and then Lady Ilden made us eat somethin’ when we got here.”
Mark swung out of bed and ordered Gurdy, “Tell ’em to bring me up some coffee in the library, sonny. Oh, Margot ain’t got here?”
“Yes, she’s here,” said Gurdy and quickly left the room.
The sun filled his showerbath. Mark cheered further, babbled32 to his brother-in-law while he shaved and wondered what Bernamer had talked about to Olive at breakfast.
He leaned in the door of the bathroom and rolled a cigarette in his big, shapely hands. Now that he had five hired men his hands were softer and not so thick. A fine, quiet man, full of sense.
“Awful good of you to come up, Eddie. I[257] ain’t makin’ a fool of myself. The old man was eighty. It’s a wonder he lasted as long.”
“Better get some coffee in you, bud. You look run down.”
“Been workin’ like a horse, Eddie.”
Mark knotted his tie, took Bernamer’s arm and hugged it a little, walking into the library. Olive dropped a newspaper and told him he looked “gorgeous” in a weary voice, then poured coffee into his cup on the low stand by a large chair close to the fire. She was smoking. The vapour didn’t hide yellowish hollows about her eyes.
“No, I didn’t sleep well, old man. Rather fagged.”
“We waked you up pretty early,” said Bernamer, “Sit down, bud, and drink your coffee.”
Mark lounged in the deep chair. Bernamer asked Olive if she had liked Washington but stood patting Mark’s shoulder and rather troubled the drinking of coffee. Gurdy came down the blue rug with some mail.
“Look and see if there’s anything important, sonny. Probably ain’t.... Hello, sister!”
Margot roamed down the library in a black dress. But she paused yards from his stretched hand and frowned incomprehensibly. Gurdy turned at the desk with a letter against his grey[258] coat. Margot said, “I suppose Gurdy’s told you.”
Gurdy thrust his jaw34 up toward the ceiling. Olive rose with a flat, rasping “Margot” and Bernamer hissed35, his fingers tight on Mark’s shoulder. Mark set down his coffee cup and looked at them all.
“Oh, no one’s said anything?” Margot put a knee on a small chair and stroked the velvet36 back. “Well, we’d better get it over. I was turned out of the hotel in Philadelphia last—”
“Shut up,” said Bernamer, “Shut your mouth!”
She went on, staring at Mark, “I’m going to marry him as soon as he can get a divorce, dad.... No use trying to lie about it. I belong to Cosmo and—and that’s all.” She passed a hand over her mouth. Then her bright slippers37 twinkled as she walked out of the room. Mark blinked after her. Something had happened. He looked up at Bernamer whose face was rocky, meaningless. Gurdy ran to Mark and spoke in gasps38, beating a fist on his hip39.
“Russell called me at the farm about two—Dad went down with me.—We talked to the manager—We bribed40 him.—Russell gave the hotel detective a check for a thousand dollars—”
“I guess they’ll keep their mouths shut,” said Bernamer, “Told ’em they’d each get another check in six months if we didn’t hear nothin’.—Now[259] it ain’t so bad, bud. Margot says this feller can get a divorce from Cora Boyle—He was gone and we didn’t see him. It might be worse.”
“Stop hittin’ your leg, Gurd. You’ll hurt yourself,” said Mark.
He rose and began to walk up and down the tiles of the hearth. One of his hands patted the front of his coat. His face was empty. He seemed wonderfully thin. Olive watched him in terror of a cry. Gurdy and his father drew off against the shelves of still books. Bernamer commenced rolling a cigarette. After a while Mark said, “It’s the way I was brought up, Olive.”
“Oh, Mark, try to—to see her point of view. She loved him. She sees something we don’t—It’s—”
“Sure. That’s so.—Oh, you’re right.”
He walked on, aware of them watching, helpless. Things passed and turned in his head. He was being silly, old-fashioned. Ought to collect himself. Ought to do something for Gurdy who wouldn’t have her, now. Get the boy something to do. Get his mind off it. “Call the office, sonny. Tell them to close ‘Todgers Intrudes41.’ Give the company two weeks’ pay. Have Hamlin write checks—Didn’t try to thrash this Rand, did you?”
“We didn’t see him. He’d gone.”
“That’s good. Call the office.”
[260]The boy went to the telephone, far off on its desk and began to talk evenly. Mark stumbled over to Bernamer and mumbled42, “Keep him busy. Awful jolt43 for him, Eddie. Takes it fine.”
“He ain’t in love with her, bud.”
“Yes, he is.”
“Set down, bud. Better drink—”
“No.—Ain’t been any saint, myself. Girls are different.—Maybe he’s a nice fellow.—Took it nice about the play being closed.—I’m all right, Olive. Sort of a shock.”
He walked on. Then he was too tired to walk and Bernamer made him sit in the chair by the hearth. He stared at the blue rug and it seemed to clear his head. He became immobile, watching a white thread. The world centred on this wriggle44 of white on the blue down. He lapsed45 into dullness, knowing that Gurdy stood close to him. He should think of things to say, consolations46. The boy must be in tortures. He was dull, empty.
Bernamer beckoned47 Olive. They went out of the library and the farmer shut the door without jarring the silver handle. Olive found herself dizzy. She said, “You have something to—”
“Let’s get downstairs where I can smoke. You’re sick. This is as bad on you—”
He helped her downstairs into the drawing room and was gone, came back with water in[261] which she tasted brandy. The big man lit his cigarette and spoke in a drawl like Mark’s but heavier.
“I don’t understand this business. The little fool says she’s been in love with this feller a long time—a couple of years. He ain’t made love to her ’til last night. Well?”
“I don’t understand it any more than do you. I’m—horrified. I knew she admired his acting48. He’s handsome. Very handsome.”
The man nodded and his blue eyes were gentle on her. He drawled, “Why the hell didn’t he stay and face the music? The manager told him to get out. Mr. Russell says he just packed up and left.—I can’t make this out. Margot had Mr. Russell waked up because she hadn’t any money to come home with.”
“I must talk to her.... Why did we leave her there?”
“You thought she’d got sense enough to know better. It ain’t your fault. I got to go home because I don’t want the family to know about this. But there’s something damn funny in it.—Will you please get it out of Mark’s head that Gurdy’s in love with that girl? Make him feel better.”
“I’ll do all I can.”
He said in scorn, “She ain’t worth fussin’ with,” and held the door open. Olive shivered, passing the library where there was no sound. She[262] climbed to Margot’s room and found the girl sitting on the edge of the sunny bed, still, smiling.
“You must be very tired, darling.”
The red lips a little parted. Margot said, “Oh ... no,” in a soft whisper. The faint noise died in the sun like the passage of a moth49. Olive stood fixed50 before the sleek51 tranquillity52 of the black hair and the contented53 face. The restless stirring was gone. She smiled in beautiful contentment. The gold cord which was the girdle of this velvet gown hung brilliant and rich about the straight body. The sunny room made a shell of colour for the figure. The hair had a dazzling margin54 against the windows. She was untroubled, happy.
Olive dragged at her own girdle, biting her lips. She asked, “Where is Mr. Rand, dear?”
“He was coming to New York today,” Margot said in the same voice. She lifted an end of the trailing gold, then let it fall. She seemed asleep, lost in a visible dream. But she roused and spoke, “He’s loved me ever so long, Olive. I didn’t know....” and was still again. Olive choked before this happiness, turned and went down the stairs. There was no use in artifice55, reasoning. Mark must accept what was done. His good sense would come back, the shock would ease into regret. His convention was outraged56, of course. It was dreadful to see him in pain.[263] Olive thrust back her own pain, a vast and weary disappointment. This wasn’t the man for the girl. This was senseless. She entered the library and Mark raised his face from the long stare at the floor, dreading57 Margot.
“Oh,” he said, “it ain’t your fault, Olive. Don’t cry.—I’m bein’ a fool.”
He rose and walked again, began a circular tramp about the room. He passed through a whispering tunnel, completely black. He was marching in the dark and knew that Olive and Gurdy watched him, that Bernamer came into the room with his hat in a hand. Yet he walked in blackness. He would go mad of this! She had lied to him. She had thrown herself to a married man. Well, girls did that. Things were changing. People did queer things. He was jealous for Gurdy, that was the trouble. He had wanted her married to Gurdy. She had said such good things of Gurdy.—All this time she’d been lying. She was in love with this pink, married actor.—The talk would roll among the restaurants, in the offices. People would laugh. Awful names! All the other noises would slacken and fail in this whispering. They would sneer58 when the Walling opened.—She couldn’t care anything for him or she wouldn’t have lied. Gurdy didn’t lie. Mark tore himself out of the black whispering and went to take Gurdy’s sleeve.
[264]“Don’t you mind, sonny. She—she’d ought to have told you she liked this—”
“Oh, Mark, I don’t care about her.”
“All right to say that—but don’t you mind.”
Bernamer came across the room and took Mark in his arms. He said, “Now, bud, don’t upset yourself. I got to go home. The fam’ly don’t know nothin’. I shan’t say a word.—What you do is this. Get hold of Cora Boyle and give her money to let this feller divorce her, see? That’ll save talk and trouble.”
“That’s right, Eddie. Yes, good idea.”
Bernamer hugged him and left the room. Mark’s head cleared. There was no black tunnel. Eddie was right. He must make the best of this. It could be hushed up. Women like Cora needed money for clothes. He nodded to Gurdy, “You’ll never be any smarter than your dad, son. Ain’t he a nice fellow, Olive?”
“Of course, dear.”
“And I’m bein’ a fool. I know it. Only there’s lots of men that feel like I do about these kind of things.—One o’clock.—You and Gurdy have some lunch.”
Olive said, “Mark, would you like to talk to her?”
He cried, “No!—I—might say something. You folks go have lunch.” They went away and at once he wanted them back, walked the floor[265] with his hands clenched59. He was afraid that Margot might come in, now. He dreaded60 seeing her. He wished her out of the house and away. The wish bit him. He had been fooled. He had to love her, help her. Couldn’t she go away? To the farm, where no one knew and—But they might find out. They would shrink from her as bad. They weren’t knowing and tolerant like Bernamer. He mustn’t stop loving her or let her see that he was hurt. Nothing eased him. The afternoon lagged along. Gurdy played the piano downstairs. Gurdy and Olive drifted in, out, consoling him. It was sunset. A van full of boxes went slowly past the house and the shadows on the pine were amethyst. Some friend of Gurdy’s came calling in a yellow, low car that turned ochre as the light failed. Its lamps made ovals on the street as it drove away.—He mustn’t let this sour the boy.—In the darker room the whispering began again. It might be the blood in his ears. Gurdy brought him up dinner and white wine. Olive came afterwards and tried to make him eat, lit all the soft lamps. He drank some wine and smoked a cigarette.
“Gurdy takes it well, doesn’t he?”
“Perhaps he didn’t care as much as you think, Mark.”
Mark laughed, “Awful cool outside. No, he’s bein’ brave to—cheer me up. And I feel better,[266] honest.... My God, Olive, if that woman wants to make a scandal!”
“Don’t think of it, Mark.”
He was tired of thinking. He said, “I’ll try not to,” and smiled at Gurdy coming in. But he now thought of Cora Boyle.—Perhaps she liked Rand, wouldn’t give him up. He examined the rosy61 face, the trim grey suits. Yellow haired. Perhaps these dark women liked yellow haired men best. He was afraid of Cora. She could lie to her friends and make things worse. He stared at a lamp a long time and his mind fell dull again.
“Mark, it’s after ten. Go to bed,” said Olive, “Please, old man.”
“You folks go.—Not sleepy.”
They left him. He was lonely. He sat by the hearth and lit a cigarette. Above him there was a slow noise of Gurdy strolling about, getting undressed. The ripple62 of little sounds kept Mark company, then deserted63 him. Mark shuddered64 in the peace of the lit room. Something worse would happen. What? He must save Gurdy more pain. The boy was too young for this. Mark’s throat ached suddenly and he began to weep, spent in his chair. The lamps of the room swelled65 like luminous66 pearls melting and through the mist came Gurdy in white pyjamas67 that flapped.
[267]“Oh, for God’s sake, Mark! Bed!”
“I’m scared,” said Mark, gulping68, “Gurd, I’m scared of Cora. Suppose she likes him? Suppose she won’t let go of him? She’s bad tempered, sonny. You don’t know her.—It’s the talk—the talk. People ain’t as broad minded as you and Olive think. The women, especially.—And she’s a young girl.... It ain’t like she was one of these women that’ve been divorced three or four times.... If Cora makes a fuss—”
Gurdy pulled him up out of the chair and gently shook him. “You must come to bed.”
“All right.—Making a fool of myself.... Only, you’re in love with her. It’s hard on you.”
“I’m not in love with her, Mark!”
Mark thought this a splendid sort of lie but he shivered. “Somethin’ else might happen. I feel.... Come and get me in bed, son.”
He became limply ashamed of himself. Gurdy helped him to strip and he found the boy buttoning his jacket for him as he sat on the edge of his bed. He watched the long, wiry fingers at work on the buttons and the holes of the blue silk. The cold linen69 of the pillow caressed70 his neck. He smiled, wanting Gurdy to stay there until he fell asleep. The doorbell rang with a steady and ripping insistence71.
“Damn,” said Gurdy and went into the hall where the cold air mounting from the opened[268] door chilled his bare feet. The butler ascended72 like a shadow on the white wainscot.
“A Mr. Fuller, sir.”
“He can’t see Mr. Walling. He’s asleep.”
“He says he must see Mr. Walling, Mr. Gurdy.” The butler held out his salver. Gurdy read the card, Henry Fuller. Fuller and Marcovicz, Attorneys at Law. Under the engraving73 was pencilled, “For Miss Boyle.”
Gurdy walked down the stairs into the drawing room. A burly man in a furred coat was standing74 by the Siennese cabinet running a thumb over the smooth panel of its little door. The light made his grey hair glisten75 slickly. He turned a broad, pleasing face on Gurdy and nodded.
“Sorry to get ’round here so late at night. Pretty important I should see Mr. Walling right away.”
“That’s absolutely impossible. He’s ill and in bed. I’m—”
“Oh ... you’re his nephew, ain’t you? Mister—Bernamer?”
“Yes.”
The man nodded and undid76 his coat. He wore a dinner jacket with a fluted77 shirt. Gay stones were blue in the soft pleats of the bosom78. He stated, “I’m from Miss Boyle—legal representative. You tell Mr. Walling that Miss Boyle’s[269] willing to not bring an action against Miss Walling—Understand what I mean?”
“Yes.”
The lawyer continued his air of genial79 discretion80, getting a paper from some pocket. “Miss Boyle’s willing to overlook this business in Philadelphia and not sue her husban’ or Miss Walling provided that this play’s brought into New York by New Year’s Day and Mr. Rand is featured—name in electric lights and so on. Soon as the play’s opened in New York she’ll live with her husban’ again. Condonation81, see? And—”
“Blackmail,” said Gurdy.
The genial man went on, “I’ve got a memorandum82, here. All Mr. Walling’s got to do is sign it. I’ll read it. N’York City, November eighteenth, nineteen hundred nineteen. My dear Miss Boyle, In pursuance of our agreement I promise you that ‘Todgers Intrudes’ will be presented in New York City before January first, nineteen twenty and that Mr. Rand will be featured in the usual manner. Yours very truly.—All he has to do is to put his name to that and there you are.”
Gurdy hated this fellow. He rubbed a foot on the carpet and sighed, then asked, “What’s the good of this? It’s a bad play. It’ll fail. Why does Miss Boyle want this?”
[270]“Don’t ask me. Yes, I hear it’s a bum83 show. I guess she wants her husban’ featured. I don’t know.”
“If Mark—if Mr. Walling won’t sign this?”
“Then Miss Boyle’ll bring her action in the morning. There’s no defence, either, Mr. Bernamer. Miss Boyle’s got a written statement from Mr. Rand and testimony84 from his valet.”
Gurdy was sick, now. An unconquerable tremor85 made the muscles of his back rigid86. It was a trap. Margot was caught in a trap. He said, “Blackmail.”
“No. Miss Boyle’s foregoin’ a legal right to bring her action. She ain’t askin’ a cent of money. There’s lots of ladies wouldn’t be so easy to settle with. Better see what Mr. Walling says, hadn’t you?”
For a second Gurdy stood hopeless. Then he said, “It’s a dirty trick,” and took the paper. But he should keep cool. He smiled and inquired, “You say you’ve got a written statement from Mr. Rand—”
“Got a copy with me. Like to read it?”
Gurdy glanced at the transparent87 typed sheet. He shook his head and walked up stairs. Mark picked up the note as Gurdy dropped it on the blue quilt, read it frowning. Then he flushed and his mouth contracted hideously88. He whispered, “Old trick! Happens all the time. I[271] ought to have known what’d happen.... Gimme a pen, sonny.” He signed his full name, Mark Henderson Walling. There couldn’t be any more pain, after this. He shut his eyes and fell through warm darkness. He could not sleep but he must rest. He slept.
When Gurdy came back into the bedroom, Mark was slowly breathing, sound asleep. The boy made the place dark and went up to his own room. In the upper black of the hall some one caught his arm. Olive followed him and shut the door. She had cast a black fur cloak over her night dress and her grey hair was loose. She looked at the boy without a word, leaning on the door.
“Blackmail. She sent her lawyer. She’s got a confession89 from Rand. Mark’s signed an agreement. He’ll bring that play into New York and she’ll live with Rand as soon as it opens.”
“Ah!... Oh, the cad!... Oh, Gurdy, take care of Mark!”
She walked down the hall. Gurdy followed her and heard her pity crash into miserable90 sobs91 behind her door. He stood listening for a while then raised his arm and pressed it against his mouth.
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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improper
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| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
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intrusive
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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collapses
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| 折叠( collapse的第三人称单数 )； 倒塌； 崩溃； （尤指工作劳累后）坐下 | |
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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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entirely
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immutable
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pallidly
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| adv.无光泽地，苍白无血色地 | |
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exhumed
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| v.挖出，发掘出( exhume的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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picturesque
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sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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flustered
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| adj.慌张的；激动不安的v.使慌乱，使不安( fluster的过去式和过去分词) | |
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writhed
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odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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18
lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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19
amethyst
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| n.紫水晶 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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21
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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22
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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23
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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24
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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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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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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muffling
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| v.压抑，捂住( muffle的现在分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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29
pneumonia
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| n.肺炎 | |
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30
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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32
babbled
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| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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33
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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34
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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bribed
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| v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
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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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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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wriggle
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| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
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lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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consolations
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| n.安慰，慰问( consolation的名词复数 )；起安慰作用的人（或事物） | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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moth
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| n.蛾，蛀虫 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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artifice
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| n.妙计，高明的手段；狡诈，诡计 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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58
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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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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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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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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pyjamas
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| n.（宽大的）睡衣裤 | |
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68
gulping
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的现在分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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69
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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72
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
engraving
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| n.版画；雕刻（作品）；雕刻艺术；镌版术v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的现在分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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74
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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glisten
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| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
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76
Undid
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| v. 解开, 复原 | |
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77
fluted
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| a.有凹槽的 | |
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78
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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80
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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81
condonation
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| n.容忍，宽恕，原谅 | |
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82
memorandum
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| n.备忘录，便笺 | |
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83
bum
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| n.臀部；流浪汉，乞丐；vt.乞求，乞讨 | |
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84
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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85
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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86
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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87
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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88
hideously
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| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
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89
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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90
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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