Arthur Lombard, the senior member of the firm, had suddenly fallen to the floor as he was entering his office, to all appearance dead. Physicians were hastily summoned; policemen were called to keep out the ubiquitous small boy, and the omnipresent curiosity seeker. The great doors were closed with a crash as the grave physician gave his verdict: “He is dead; heart failure!” The truth which conveys a great grief, ever seems heartless, and in a degree, coarse.
Death shocks us ever, we think of it as connected with a sick bed and fit preparation; deep down in our inner consciousness we form plans; when the dark angel shall knock at our door, we will hastily don our robes of sanctity, and fly away to eternal bliss1. We are horrified2 when he smites3 one of our number unaware—but we never think it might have been us instead.
The dead body was removed to his residence in the most fashionable part of the city; crape hung from the elegant portal; crape draped the closed doors of the bank, and lent adventitious4 aid to the gloom of the high walled, narrow street.
68How many truly mourned I cannot say; a merchant in high standing6 exchanged views with an artisan, both equally interested, as both had all they possessed7 in the bark, albeit8 one had thousands of dollars deposited, the other but a few hundred.
“How will it affect the bank?” questioned the artisan.
“I really could not say, but I think not seriously,” was the guarded reply.
“As I understand, he was the head of the concern.”
“Y-e-s, but Gus Lombard is all right. It is a pity, though, that Arthur was taken off.”
Such is the sorrow of the world; a few who have known us intimately may feel a less selfish grief; our motives9 are so complex, and selfishness so much a part of human nature, that we seldom judge our own actions correctly. If but one or two can say with sincerity10 that our lives and our language were pure, then we shall not have lived in vain, as every living being—whether good or bad—will influence some other to follow his example. Lombard had been an unmarried man, who kept up a fine establishment, and lived in good style; but being very reticent11 few knew aught of his business affairs.
He was laid out in one of the parlors12; windows were darkened; lamps were shaded; heavy carpets deadened the footfalls, until the silence and gloom became oppressive.
Late at night, three days after he was stricken down, a slight, fair girl entered the parlor13 noiselessly; Edith Herford had been his ward14; she 69had also been his betrothed15, although no one save his brother Gus was aware of the fact. Noiselessly she pushed aside the portières, and seeing the man on watch lying back in his chair, sleeping soundly, she crossed the room, and knelt beside the coffin16.
Sobs17 shook her slight frame as she laid her face on his cold breast: “Oh, Arthur, my beloved!” she whispered, caressing18 his cold face, kissing the folded hands.
“To-morrow they will put you out of my sight, and I shall be indeed bereft19. Oh, my love! my love!”
With bowed head she wept silently; the ticking of the clock sounded loud and awesome20 in the unnatural21 silence, “tick-tock, tick-tock; time-going, time-gone,” it seemed to say; the breathing of the sleeping watcher vibrated on the still air like an electric shock; a brooding mystery seemed to hang over the dead form, it appeared like sculptured marble, which at any moment might become instinct with life; it was hard to realize that the soul had gone from the body, the features were so placid22, and were tinged23 with a roseate glow by the shades on the incandescent24 light.
Edith’s nerves were keyed up to their highest pitch, it seemed to her that she must scream; as she pressed her lips to the cold hand, she fancied that there was a slight movement of the fingers; she thought the eyelids25 quivered; she pressed her handkerchief over her mouth, afraid she should cry out.
“Oh, Arthur! My Arthur! I know that you 70are gone from me forever, and this is but a delusive26 fancy, would it were true, that I might not be so lonely!” she whispered, gazing mournfully at him.
The watcher stirred in his sleep, muttering low and indistinctly. Edith started up in wild affright, her heart beating tumultuously; to her excited imagination the lights seemed to burn dimly, as though about to go out.
The watcher shifted uneasily in his chair, then slept quietly on.
Edith turned toward her dear dead; she would once more kiss the cold lips, a last farewell, then return to her room.
The watcher started from his sleep in wild affright, and caught Edith as she fell fainting.
Arthur Lombard was sitting upright, staring about with wondering eyes. Dropping the fainting girl on the nearest sofa, the watcher rang a hurried peal30, and hastily dispatched a servant for a physician. He tremblingly approached Arthur, shivering as he laid his hand upon his shoulder; but managed to say soothingly31: “Hadn’t you best lie down?” Arthur looked at him in a bewildered way, seeming not in the least to understand him.
Though trembling in every limb, he gently pressed Arthur backward; who gave a tired sigh, muttered something which the man did not understand, and instantly sank into a refreshing32 slumber33.
A moment later the physician hurried in, 71looked wise, felt his pulse, tested his temperature, and said, as though the circumstance was of ordinary occurrence:
“Suspended animation34! He will be all right in a few days; get these things off him, and get him into bed as gently as possible; do not let a hint of the preparation for burial reach him; the shock of such knowledge would in all probability actually kill him.”
Edith had regained35 consciousness, and with timid hand touched his sleeve. “You think that he will recover?”
“Certainly! Certainly, Miss Herford! I see nothing to prevent it.”
“But he looked and acted so strangely,” said Edith tremblingly.
“No doubt! No doubt! So would you or I, placed in the same circumstances. There, there! Run along to bed, I’ll stay here the rest of the night, and see that he is all right,” gently pushing her through the door as he ceased speaking.
The next morning Arthur awoke feeling comfortably well, but very weak. The physician was sitting beside the bed when he opened his eyes; Arthur regarded him curiously36, a puzzled look overspreading his countenance37 as his gaze wandered about the room. He murmured something strange; receiving no reply, he said slowly, like a child just beginning to talk: “Where am I?”
“In your own bed, of course; where should you be?”
He lay quiet, looking around curiously, as 72though everything were new to him. “Why am I here?” still with the same hesitation38, as though not certain as to the meaning of his words.
“Where in the mischief39 would you wish, or expect to be, if not in your own home?” answered the doctor a trifle impatiently.
He looked troubled but asked no more questions; presently he lifted his long, white hand, adorned40 with a handsome ring, and examined it as though he had never before seen it; he seemed strangely unable to express his feelings.
“Jove!” said the doctor later, “I wonder if the fellow has lost his wits! It is a pity if so, for he was one of the shrewdest of men, and a sharp financier.”
If Edith hovered41 about him, or caressed42 him with gentle touch, or called him fond names, he looked at her in surprise, and gave not the slightest return.
She would look at him in grieved surprise, and on one occasion asked him with trembling lips: “Do you no longer love me, Arthur?”
“Love you? I—guess—so! I do not know what you mean!” looking helplessly at her.
She burst into tears which were quickly suppressed as she coldly left the room. From that time she offered him no caresses43, but he seemed not to notice the omission44.
As Edith left the room in anger he looked after her, his brow wrinkled in perplexity.
He was certainly in a strange condition; he appeared to enjoy his meals; he slept well; but he seemed to take no interest in anything more 73than that—he did not seem to understand that there was anything in which he ought to take an interest.
One day, as he sat languidly looking out of the window, Gus said to him: “You will soon be well enough to attend to business!”
“What business?” he asked vacantly.
“Why, your banking45 business of course!” answered Gus in a tone of disgust; he thought his brother must be making a pretence46 of not understanding. Arthur looked at him blankly but made no reply.
Edith asked the physician: “What do you think of him? Is he insane?”
“No! Neither insane nor idiotic47, mental shock! He will recover, he is like a child with everything to learn.”
It is hard to tell what were Arthur’s sensations; everything seemed so strange. He was told that these were his rooms; he had no recollection of ever having seen them until the morning when he opened his eyes on the physician’s face. Even the language sounded strange to him, though in a hazy48 way he knew what was meant; it was as though the sounds had been imprinted49 upon the brain by some other intelligence; as a picture is sensitized upon the plate by one artist for another artist’s use. The business so often mentioned to him, seemed like a hazy dream; something of which some other person being cognizant, had conveyed to him in a far-off manner, an impression of his knowledge. In the same way he knew that he was expected to love Edith; but there was a vague, 74elusive intuition of some actual affinity50, a feeling which he could not shake off, and by which he knew that whatever of feeling he possessed for Edith was as the shadow to the real. This hazy something, which was not knowledge, nor yet a dream, strained his mental capacity in a vain effort after solution. He restlessly tried to gather up the threads of that which seemed to him a new life.
As Gus was vice-president of the bank everything went on smoothly51; but he felt greatly annoyed at Arthur’s complete indifference52 when he wished to consult with him upon important business:
“You just manage everything, Gus, until I feel more like business.”
“You will have to pull yourself together, old man;” answered Gus, regarding him with troubled gaze.
No sooner had Gus left the room than all signs of languidness disappeared; he muttered angrily to himself; he paced up and down the floor; he tore the books from the shelves in frantic53 desire for something which would enlighten him on these things which seemed so hazy and bewildering; he threw the book he was holding from him in an excess of rage. Letters and words had a strangely familiar look, and yet—the mental strain was fearful—it was like hunting for faces whose lineaments were long since forgotten; like trying to decipher a faded picture imprinted in dim ink by some person unknown; and feeling, withal, that a perfect understanding of the dim lights and shadows was expected.
75That which gave him a still more restless pain was that other tantalizing54 consciousness which eluded55 him, though almost touching56 his memory. Every hour when alone was feverishly58 employed in trying to recall that which seemed to him like a lost treasure. He listened to every scrap59 of conversation, he watched the expression of every face, the gestures of every person. A sentence which puzzled him he would repeat over and over again, until he had fixed60 it firmly in his mind; then the full meaning was hunted out as soon as he was alone.
Edith often looked at him in wondering surprise; he seemed not in the least like the man whom she had loved; it is true the features were the same, but—where was the cultivated ease of manner, where the grace which had been so attractive; the clear, open expression of countenance which had distinguished61 the man she loved above his fellows? This discontented, rebellious62 soul looked out from under frowning brows; the brilliant blue eyes had a wary63, suspicious look; the movements were awkward, the speech uncouth64.
“Oh, Gus, how changed he is!” cried Edith.
“Yes, I scarcely know what to do; if one could but wake him in some way!” said Gus, sadly.
A year or more passed by; as he regained strength he developed strange desires; he absented himself from home for days together.
Edith remonstrated65: “Why do you do so, Arthur?”
He answered her coarsely, like an undisciplined 76youth: “I do not think I need a keeper!”
Edith burst into tears: “I did not mean that; but you know—that—that—I am lonely when you are away,” she faltered66.
A half-frightened look passed over his face, and was gone instantly, to be succeeded by a perplexed67 scowl68.
Edith regarded him in pained surprise: “Arthur!” The single word expressed much.
He left the house, slamming the door after himself.
He began about this time assuming control of the business; things seemed to go wrong from that hour, and he appeared to have lost all judgment70; heavy losses followed in rapid succession. He angrily resented advice, and Gus became so annoyed that he took him to task.
“See here, old man! You are going it a bit wild—you had best check up!”
Arthur’s moody71 eyes lit up with an angry flame: “Any person would think that you had the whole say so,” he sneered72.
“You know, Arthur, that I have no wish to control, except for the mutual73 good. Great heaven, Arthur! You are ruining us!” cried Gus, aggravated74 into speaking his mind.
Arthur looked moodily75 down, and like a child caught in some misdemeanor, grumbled76 out: “Any person is liable to make a mistake.”
Gus looked at him curiously: “I’ve a great notion to pull out; I do not propose getting 77caught under the wreck77 when the crash comes,” said he angrily.
“Oh, well, get some one to do the work in my place, if you feel so terribly worried,” quite as angrily retorted Arthur.
A couple of weeks later Gus did put another man into the office; Arthur seemed rather relieved than otherwise.
Gus was talking to Edith a few days later; they had been speaking of Arthur, and incidentally of Wilbur the new man:
“He seems to understand his business; he has a way of going at it, as though he had been in that office all his life; actually, as he sank into that big, green chair, he sighed with satisfaction.”
“Tell me how he looks,” said Edith.
“Oh, tall and muscular; his hair is as black as the proverbial crow’s wing; the most piercing black eyes that I ever saw; his looks are rather fierce and brigandish, but his manner is most gentle and courteous78; his voice is very sweet, the words and tones of a cultured man.”
“You make me very curious to see him,” answered Edith.
“He interests me strangely; it seems as though I had known him at some former time, but I cannot place him.”
“How does Arthur take it?”
“That is strangest of all; he glowers79 at him as though he hated him mortally; yet he obeys every suggestion of Wilbur’s as though he were afraid of him.”
Edith did not reply; she was conscious of a 78feeling of repulsion toward Arthur, which had been growing in force for the last year; she no longer had the slightest affection for him; if he laid his hand upon her shoulder, even his near proximity80 would send a shudder81 through her whole being. She felt ashamed and guilty that such was the case, and tried to conceal82 the fact. A feverish57 longing83 possessed her to see Wilbur; she was also ashamed of this feeling, and mentally took herself to task for the unmaidenly desire.
As to Arthur, everything worried him; he was restless and unhappy; he seemed to have no care as to the success of the business; instead, he burned with a wild desire to throw the money away; anything, any way, so as to be free from care and thought. He had a passionate84 wish to roam, to get away from the haunts of men into the green woods; to lie on his back and look up at the blue skies, listening to the rustle85 of the leaves; it smoothed the frown from his moody brow, and seemed to bring that floating affinity nearer his mental vision; at times it came so near that with a cry he would start up and fling his arms wide with a hoarse86 cry of mad impotence, as it faded delusively87. He hated the conventionalities of society; he longed to do something outré, to shock those with whom he came into contact out of their calm; he looked with hatred88 upon all the refinements89 of life, as so many limitations, so many bars to personal enjoyment90.
Through all the fierce rebellion ran a hazy admonition: “You ought to like these things, it 79is expected of you; your position requires it.” Accompanying these thoughts like a weird91 shadow was that intangible—what was it? A delusion92, a dream, or the shadow of a memory?
A few days after Wilbur came, Gus one evening invited him to go home with them: “I wish to introduce you to Arthur’s ward, Edith,” he said.
“Edith! Edith!” said Wilbur dreamily; “I seem to see her—tall, fair—with the purity of the lily—” He paused, passing his hand over his brow, with a deep sigh.
“No! no! I have sometimes dreamed of her, I think; I cannot recall what it is—” again he sighed deeply; he appeared like one awakening94 from sleep.
Gus said nothing, but thought to himself; “Well, here is a pair of them!” As they were walking slowly homeward, through the level glow of the sunset, a woman brushed past them; she lifted her face to look at Wilbur, a look in which hate mingled96 strangely with love. Her eyes were like midnight, but a midnight lighted by a reddish glow, the reflection of the fires within; inky black brows, and hair of the same shade falling low on a forehead as colorless as marble. A face to glow with the fiercest abandonment of love, or burn with the seething97 fires of hate; her form was of voluptuous98 beauty, a something strange and foreign in the ensemble99.
“Andalusia! Andalusia!” The sound was like the voice of one in anguish101. She swept him a burning glance, to which he replied in a strange language, gesticulating rapidly; with a look of wild amazement she passed on, and was lost to sight around a street corner.
Gus looked his displeasure: “I would not stop to talk with one of that kind on the street; who is she?”
Arthur looked at him as though he did not understand, but when the question was repeated, he replied absently:
“No; no; I must have been mistaken!”
Gus of course thought that he was telling an untruth; he judged her some disreputable woman of Arthur’s acquaintance. “Oh, it is all right, I do not blame you for being ashamed of it!” he answered sarcastically102.
Arthur shot him a look of hatred from under moody brows, but made no reply. Wilbur seemed feverishly eager to reach their destination, and in preoccupied103 thought had hurried forward until he was considerably104 in advance of the others, consequently observed nothing.
When Gus introduced Wilbur to Edith, he blushed and stammered105 awkwardly; she was no less embarrassed. Throughout the whole evening Wilbur scarcely took his eyes from her face; once, inadvertently, he called her Edith; she blushed furiously, and Gus gave him a look of displeasure, which he did not observe.
Later in the evening Gus said to her: “I do 81not like Wilbur’s familiarity on so short an acquaintance.”
Edith hesitated a moment before answering: “I do not think it was intentional106, Gus, doesn’t he remind you of some other person?”
“Yes; but I can never say who it is.”
They turned to look at him, as he sat talking to Arthur; the contrast between the two was very marked. Arthur was slouchingly leaning over the table; his carelessness of attire107, an indefinable coarseness of look and action, contrasted most unfavorably with Wilbur’s refined manner, the neatness of his person, and the high thought written in characters unmistakable upon his countenance; yet the features of Arthur were far more regular, his physique finer.
Edith sighed. Gus answered her thought.
“He seems an entirely109 different person; Mr. Wilbur is much more as Arthur used to be than Arthur himself.”
Gus started in amazement: “By Jove! That is so! Ever since he came it has puzzled me to know who he was like.”
They had been busying themselves over the tea things as they talked, and now brought them forward. As they sipped110 their tea Gus endeavored to lead the conversation toward Wilbur’s former life, but he plainly evaded111 the subject. Arthur the whole evening sat moodily gnawing112 his mustache, or paced the floor restlessly. It was late when Wilbur took his departure.
For a long time Gus could hear Arthur moving 82about his room, but at last he sank into dreamy slumber, in which Arthur and Wilbur were strangely intermingled, once starting up wide awake as he fancied he heard the hall door close. He lay a few minutes with every nerve quivering, afraid of—he knew not what; then took himself to task for being so foolish, and again dropped off to sleep.
Arthur did not appear in the morning; but his course was so erratic113 that this occasioned no surprise; but when a week, two weeks went by without his return, Gus began to be seriously alarmed.
Wilbur proved a treasure; everything went on in the most methodical manner; he seemed to understand every detail of the business; to know where papers and records were kept, of which others had no knowledge; moreover he seemed to enjoy his work.
The residence also, seemed strangely familiar to him; on more than one occasion he surprised them by mentioning articles placed in rooms of which he was supposed to know nothing.
One evening Gus asked him: “Were you ever in that room?”
Wilbur looked bewildered: “I think not—I do not know,” he said slowly.
“If not, how do you know where that picture is placed, and the subject of the painting?”
They had been talking of the works of a certain master, and Wilbur mentioned a painting which hung in Arthur’s room.
He rested his head upon his hand in an attitude familiar to both; “I do not know; I seem 83to see it, that is all that I can tell you,” he answered in a sad tone.
Gus looked at Edith questioningly; she did not notice him, her eyes were fixed upon Wilbur.
The next morning as they were sitting down to breakfast, Arthur returned. Edith and Gus rose to their feet, simultaneously114; he was dirty, and disheveled, his clothing tattered115 and soiled; he had the look of a tramp. “Well! You are a sight, and no mistake! Where have you been?” said Gus laughingly.
His appearance was really ludicrous; he tried to pass it off lightly, but a heavy frown belied116 his flippant manner.
“Who made you your brother’s keeper?”
“Really, I do not know who appointed me, but you look as though you were in need of some person to fill that position,” retorted Gus.
Half defiantly118 he replied: “With your kind permission, I’ll take some breakfast,” tossing his hat on the floor, as he seated himself at the table.
Edith had not spoken, but looked at him in amazement and aversion. Gus laughed derisively120: “I say, aren’t you forgetting something, old fellow?” laying his hand affectionately on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong, now?” looking scowlingly at him.
Gus made no reply in words, but looked significantly at his grimy hands; he frowned still more angrily; jerked himself out of his chair, and went to his room muttering: “Confounded 84bore! Mind his own business!” like an untrained, overgrown boy.
Edith could scarcely restrain her tears. “Is it not horrible?” she said with quivering lips.
“Yes it is, but we must overlook it as much as possible; he is to be pitied; he has never been quite right since—” he paused significantly.
“I know! But Gus, it makes me shudder to think of fulfilling my engagement to him; I just cannot—” she paused, a burning blush spreading over her face; she had never before spoken of it to Gus.
He sat thoughtfully toying with his fork for a few minutes:
“Do you think that he wishes it?”
“No, I do not; he never offers me the slightest token of affection, for which I am indeed grateful; truly, I do not believe that he ever thinks of it.” She laughed in an embarrassed manner.
“Taking it altogether, Wilbur, Arthur, and—ourselves, it’s a queer business.”
Edith flushed a fiery121 red; but if she intended an answer, which is doubtful, Arthur’s returning step put an end to the conversation. He at once seated himself at the table, and ate like one famished122. A few evenings later Wilbur again came to dinner with Arthur and Gus. The air was very warm and pleasant, and after dinner they all went into the sitting room; the windows opened down to the floor, and were flung wide to admit the sweet, fresh evening air; a long vine-draped porch ran along the whole front of the house.
85“Do not have lights, they call the insects, and it is much pleasanter to sit on the porch,” said Edith.
Seated there, a strange silence fell over them; the full moon rode through the sky like a stately silver ship; a faint breeze stirred the leaves on the vines, and cast fitful arabesques123 on the floor; a cricket chirped124 lonesomely in the grass; dark shadows lay weirdly125 across the winding126 walks. Wilbur sat close to Edith, the shadows half enveloping127 them; in their concealment128 his hand had sought hers, and clasped it fondly. Arthur sat at the far end of the porch, in the densest129 gloom; only the fiery tip of his cigar betraying his presence. Gus lay stretched on a wooden settee, his eyes fixed dreamily on a few light, fleecy clouds showing through a break in the vines.
There was a faint rustling131 sound just where the foliage132 grew the most dense130; the leaves were cautiously parted, and a pallid133, vengeful face looked through. The intruder seemed as much surprised as were the group seated there; she had evidently expected to find the porch untenanted, and the sight revealed seemed to drive her to a frenzy134 of madness; a ray of moonlight fell upon the clasped hands of Edith and Wilbur, also showing the look of devotion upon Wilbur’s face, as he was bending toward her in the act of speaking.
There was a flash, the report of a pistol, intermingled with wild screams, and a hoarse, strange cry from Arthur:
“Andalusia! Andalusia!” Then, something 86wildly, rapidly spoken in a strange language; the vengeful, defiant117 air speedily changing to wonder and amazement; tones of fierce remonstrance135 from him, and scornful disbelief from her; then a word or two of pleading; a light in her eyes like blazing stars, and obeying his fierce gestures she slipped away among the winding walks, shadowy trees and shrubbery.
It has taken some time to tell all this, but the happening was so rapid that none save Gus saw or heard aught that passed between Arthur and the strange woman.
Wilbur was bending over the half-fainting Edith, whispering impassioned words in her ear, caution thrown to the winds on the near approach of danger.
Gus for a moment gazed speechless and motionless, amazed at the fierce gestures, and the strange language; and when he would have detained the woman, Arthur angrily threw him backward, saying: “Let her alone! She made a mistake!”
“A strange mistake, I take it!” hotly replied Gus.
“What is the use of raising more disturbance136? No one is hurt! She thought that I was sitting there beside Edith.”
Arthur made no reply, but strode away into the darkness of the shrubbery.
Edith and Wilbur had entered the house, and their low tones, agitated138 conversation, reached Gus indistinctly as he stood irresolute139; he had 87sent the servants back to their places, and their frightened tones reached him faintly; after some seconds’ indecision he plunged140 off down the path which Arthur had taken, but no trace of him or the woman could he find.
It was fully27 an hour before he returned to the house, feeling angry that he was no wiser than when he started; he was the more angry that he did not know what he expected to find. His astonishment141 was great to find Arthur seated in the self same place smoking as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“Well, I declare! I have been looking everywhere for you;” he said.
“Yes! You have found me, now what will you have?”
It had seemed during the surprise and heat of anger easy enough to ask him what all this mystery meant; but looking Arthur in the face; listening to his cool, sneering142 tones, it was far from easy; so he hesitated and stammered out: “I don’t understand this business at all.”
Arthur broke in: “My dear Gus, neither do I.”
His tone implied so much more than the words that Gus was effectually silenced.
They soon separated for the night; Wilbur had gone home half an hour before, and Edith had retired143 to her room, her nerves in a tumult28 over the occurrences of the evening; but through all the fright and horror ran a thrill of sweetness.
Wilbur had whispered in her ear, as she lay 88half fainting: “My love! Do not be frightened; I will protect you!”
“Who could it be? I am so frightened!” clinging to his hand.
“It is all past now, dear; I think it must have been some crazy person.”
For another week things went on much as usual, except that Gus was now positive that Arthur went out each night at about half-past twelve; not returning until morning, always haggard and worn, and often in the most furious mood. Frequently he glared at Wilbur as though he would like to murder him; but if Wilbur turned, or he knew himself to be observed, his manner changed completely. He seemed anxious to throw Edith and Wilbur together; and yet, as they conversed144 or sat in silent contentment he would restlessly pace the floor, and finally fling himself out of the room angrily.
Of a sudden he changed entirely; he remained at home of nights, went to the bank early in the morning, and remained until the hour of closing, seemingly intent upon a thorough understanding of every phase of the business, but at times showing such a strange forgetfulness—or ignorance—that Wilbur would pause, and look at him in astonishment.
It was on Wednesday, there were papers missing, relating to some securities; Gus and Arthur had been vainly seeking them all the morning; finally Gus went over to Wilbur’s desk and asked, more because he was vexed145 and at a loss as to what to do, than for any other reason:
“Wilbur, do you know anything about those 89securities?” mentioning the particular ones he wished.
Without even pausing in his work Wilbur replied, naming the number of the drawer in the security vault146 where he would find them.
Gus made him no reply, but sought the drawer described, and returned with the papers.
He walked up to Wilbur, followed by Arthur:
“Will you explain to me how you knew where those securities were? After you told where they were, I remember placing them there; and I know that they have not been removed for over a year, long before you came here—” he paused significantly.
Wilbur looked up from his work in complete bewilderment:
“I do not know how I know it, but it is all clear to me; the moment you mention a thing I seem to see it, and a long-stored knowledge seems instantly to step forth147. I seem to know every crevice148 in these stones; every bolt, bar and drawer; but how I gained that knowledge I can not tell, because—I do not know.”
As he talked he was gazing straight before him, with a strange, unseeing look.
“It is not so strange that you have the knowledge—it is easy to get, if one pokes149 his nose into everything; but it is hard to understand why I cannot remember anything concerning the business,” said Arthur disagreeably.
“It is no use quarreling!” said Gus, but it was evident that he was both puzzled and annoyed.
That night Gus again heard Arthur stealthily 90leaving the house, and he did not return until noon of the next day. He remained at the bank from that time until after the hour for closing, remarking that he had correspondence which he wished to finish; having completed it, he called the watchman and sent him to post the letters, saying that he would remain on watch until his return; as soon as he came back, Arthur went home.
He seemed moody and distrait150 all the evening, and several times Gus caught him glaring at Wilbur with the unmistakable light of hatred in his eyes. Wilbur spent nearly all of his evenings with Edith, and made no secret of his devotion to her. Gus was puzzled to account for Arthur’s manner toward Wilbur; that he hated him was very evident, but it certainly was not from jealousy151, as he showed not the slightest love for Edith; on the contrary, he appeared actually to dislike and avoid her. Several times during the evening he sank into such gloomy abstraction as not to notice when he was addressed; at an early hour he left the parlor and went to his room, with not even an excuse or a good-night.
“I do believe that Arthur is going insane; I never saw such a change in any one!”
He was again absent the next morning; but he was away so frequently that no one even spoke119 of it; but when a week passed without his return Gus began to be vaguely153 alarmed and suspicious; the reason for the latter feeling 91being that Arthur had drawn154 large sums of money on his personal check within the previous week. Only the day before this last departure he had taken out several thousand dollars.
On his way to his sleeping room that night, Gus, from some impulse unexplainable, tried the door of Arthur’s room. He did not know what he expected to discover, he was simply uneasy.
To his surprise he found the door unlocked; heretofore Arthur had been more than careful to keep his privacy secure. Gus entered and turned on the light, everything seemed as usual; he opened the door of the wardrobe, and looked within, it gave him a start to find it empty. Gus turned giddy; had his prediction come true? A prophecy which was born of vexation, instead of insight. Arthur had taken away all of his clothing; no interpretation155 could be put upon that action, but that he intended to abandon his home; but why should he do so, unless mentally unbalanced?
As he turned to extinguish the light he saw, placed conspicuously156 on the dresser, a letter; trembling with undefinable fear he caught it up; without address it abruptly commenced:
“When you find this I shall be far away. I have taken five thousand dollars in cash and the diamonds which were in my safe-deposit drawer, which amount to twenty thousand more. The balance of the money and the real estate I have turned over to Wilbur; I hate him, but he has a right to the property.
92“You do not understand, and will wonder; I will explain.
“You remember the time when, to all appearances, Arthur Lombard dropped dead; amid great, apparent grief, and much excitement he was carried to this house where he lay silent and motionless for three days.
“At the same instant in which he fell in his elegantly appointed office, almost in the same manner, fell Antoni Petronelli, one of a band of roving gypsies, who dwelt in a fair southern country, with no covering save the waving arms of the forest trees, or at most a house of boughs157 for shelter at night or in storm. As Edith and Gus mourned over Arthur Lombard, so Andalusia Varana mourned over Antoni—yet not the same—the cool blood of your race cannot realize the fierce love and desperate grief of the untrammeled children of the South.
“At the very instant that Arthur Lombard awoke to life again, that same instant arose as one from the dead, Antoni Petronelli.
“Now comes the really strange, and tragic158 part of the story. When these two souls were loosed from the body and entered space, they drifted without knowledge of their destination; but that an intelligent power directed them is proved by this; although so far apart, the soul of Arthur Lombard sought the body of the gypsy Petronelli; and the spirit of Petronelli was forced to enter the effeminate body of Arthur Lombard.
“I can speak only of my own impression; I, the soul of the gypsy, Petronelli, and the body 93of the aesthetic159 banker, Arthur Lombard. When I regained consciousness I had but a confused mingling160 of ideas; some things—impressions, knowledge, thoughts—which had been the property of Lombard, haunted me; it was as though these things had been photographed on the brain, to be brought forth and used by the occupant of the body as occasion required. I did not understand the use of this knowledge; I detested161 the fair-skinned body; I hated the limitations of his life—which you call refinements; the greatest trial of all was that for a long time I did not know what I was fighting against. I knew only that I was miserably162 unhappy.
“I hated the soft, cool caresses of Edith; I was tormented163 with a misty164 memory—which I could not drive from my mind—of arms which had encircled my neck, and had set my being on fire. I hated the reproof165 in Edith’s calm eyes, and the low voice which grew so cool as I pushed away her hands, or answered her roughly; she was offended in such a grand, cold way. My Andalusia would have upbraided166 me with hot words, uttered in her shrill167, sweet voice; she would have given me blow for blow, then we should have kissed with fond words, and loved better than ever. I hated the house with its elegant furnishings, its heavy, hot carpets, and close, stifling168 atmosphere.
“I longed for the cool, leafy woods; for the carpet of green grass. I felt an insane desire to crush the globes on the incandescent lights, which parodied169 the light of the moon; that soft 94southern moon, which, with its coterie170 of stars, looked down upon my bed of boughs while I slept in that happy time before disaster came.
“For a long time I could not put these feelings into words, or even into thoughts; I knew only that these things I hated, and I madly desired to get away; it was like the restlessness of some caged animal. During all of this time those teachings which had left their impression upon the brain matter tortured me, suggesting and urging other thoughts so at variance171 with those rebellious feelings that it almost drove me mad.
“Then when Wilbur came it seemed as though my soul must leap out of the hateful body which held it in limitation. Instantly I recognized my own, my hands have many times itched172 to throttle173 the usurper174 of my person, so that I might seize that which belonged by right to me. Oh, how I hate this milk-and-water flesh! These soft muscles, and dainty palms!
“With his coming—Wilbur, by the way, is but an assumed name—it seemed to give that hazy sense of something gone before, something half remembered, like a dream of the night—a shock. I concentrated every effort of my being until scenes from my former life began to float before my mental vision; dense woods, with leaves of a glossy175, dark green; lilies standing tall and white; a great bay of water reflecting the blue of a cloudless sky and the green of the trees on its placid bosom176. There was ever the vague shadow of a form which filled my veins177 with fire, and my whole soul with longing, but 95it floated just beyond my mental grasp. Many a time as I walked under the stars I could have cried aloud, it seemed so near, and yet—eluded me I could not remain within the walls of that elegantly furnished room which was called mine; so at night I wandered far, and lay on the cool, dew wet grass, and strove to solve the tormenting178 problems.
“That evening when Andalusia followed us, I had been more than usually unsettled and troubled; there was a softness in the atmosphere; a mellow179 light shed by the descending180 sun; a faint, odorous stirring of the warm wind, which made my brain throb181 as though it would burst, so suggestive were all things of that half remembered southern land. When Andalusia brushed past us, and the light of her eyes entered my soul, the final knowledge came to me, as had that other; I remembered all, and in a transport of joy I called out her name. It was well for him that I cried out—my body would have been a vacant tenement182 otherwise; but unless I also was released from this hateful bondage183 it would have been useless, as I could not, unless through the same condition which at first existed, have reclaimed184 my own.
“Andalusia sought Wilbur, thinking herself deserted185 by me; she was mad with jealousy long before he fled; she frightened him with her ardent186 love, and I suppose when angered repelled187 him by her wild bursts of passion; his cold nature could not appreciate the tropical love of my Andalusia.
“That evening on the street, when I cried out 96‘Andalusia,’ she recognized my voice, but thought it some trick to deceive her; you know that in our land, and especially among our people, there are many incredible and wonderful things done to cheat the imagination; but when I said in Romany, which seemed to drop from my tongue without my will: “Be at the entrance of the park to-night at twelve; I, your Antoni, will meet you;” she swept me a burning gaze of wondering doubt, and disappeared. I met her as I promised, but could not convince her that I spoke the truth; she scornfully taunted188 me with the eyes, which she declared that I had stolen from the summer sky, an open page whereon to print all my baby passions; she lifted herself to look over my head, and mock me with her shrill laughter; one thing only consoled me; I knew when she promised again to meet me, that though she derided189, she was not quite sure. It seemed that Wilbur—Ugh! I cannot call him Petronelli—he has no right to the name, he stole my body, but—I am I, in spite of it! Well, he utterly190 refused her love; he resisted her caresses, and showed such unmistakable aversion that he drove her wild; she upbraided him fiercely, and—like a coward—he fled from her.
“What led him here? Was it the hand of the All Wise, or the homing instinct implanted in man? He came, and you know how he filled the place, and how perfectly191 the place fitted him.
“For long weeks I failed to convince Andalusia; weeks that were filled with the madness of despair, with the agony of vain pleading, of being scorned and taunted with my baby skin, until 97every time that I looked at Wilbur, I could scarcely restrain my hands.
“Andalusia watched his every movement; that night when she fired the pistol she thought that she had found her rival, and had she been less angry would have killed her; her emotion, only, rendering192 her hand unsteady.
“I followed her and appointed a place of meeting; at first she would not listen, but finally consented; saying that old Martini Sistine was with her, hidden in the shrubbery. I was rejoiced, for old Martini knows much that is hidden from all the rest of the world; she can talk familiarly with those who have departed this life; and to her the stars are as an open book. Martini knew that I spoke the truth, and in trying to convince Andalusia she also explained much which I had been unable to grasp. Andalusia at first would hear nothing of it, but cried scornfully, touching the fair hair as though it were some vile193 thing, and prodding194 my flushed cheek viciously:
“Daughter of the South, born in the wild wood among nature’s sweetest mysteries, do you doubt the first one which touches you? For shame! If you saw a branch lopped off the tree under which you sat, would you cry out that this was no longer the same tree? If you should lose your fair right arm, are you not still Andalusia? If you were bereft of both limbs and arms, and nothing but the disfigured trunk remained, you would still be Andalusia. It is the 98within, which is in reality the personality. Your Antoni is the same, but he is unfortunate in having to bear this effeminate body; have you no pity for his misfortune?”
“Then my Andalusia wept on my neck, and begged forgiveness for all her unkind words; and though she cried continually: ‘Poor Antoni!’ I was so happy that for a time I forgot all about my hateful body.
“We are going to our own land; Martini, my Andalusia and I. Wilbur can take the cool-blooded Edith and welcome; their placid imitation of love is like ice to fire as compared to the glorious tumult of passion which swells196 in the hearts of the unfettered children of the free wild wood.
“I have taken this money and the diamonds, yet—I am no thief! That portion of myself, known to the sight as Arthur Lombard—the hateful body, thrust upon me without my consent—I am compelled to retain against my will; that body has a right to maintenance, and I have taken of Arthur Lombard’s money to care for it. I have left the balance to the soul of Arthur Lombard; and as a last request, I ask him to be kind to the body of poor, cheated Antoni Petronelli.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
bliss
|
|
| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
horrified
|
|
| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
smites
|
|
| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
adventitious
|
|
| adj.偶然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
vent
|
|
| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
albeit
|
|
| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
motives
|
|
| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
sincerity
|
|
| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
reticent
|
|
| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
parlors
|
|
| 客厅( parlor的名词复数 )； 起居室； （旅馆中的）休息室； （通常用来构成合成词）店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
parlor
|
|
| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
ward
|
|
| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
betrothed
|
|
| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
coffin
|
|
| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
sobs
|
|
| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
caressing
|
|
| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
bereft
|
|
| adj.被剥夺的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
awesome
|
|
| adj.令人惊叹的，难得吓人的，很好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
placid
|
|
| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
tinged
|
|
| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
incandescent
|
|
| adj.遇热发光的， 白炽的，感情强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
eyelids
|
|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
delusive
|
|
| adj.欺骗的，妄想的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
tumult
|
|
| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
appalled
|
|
| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
peal
|
|
| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
soothingly
|
|
| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
refreshing
|
|
| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
slumber
|
|
| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
animation
|
|
| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
regained
|
|
| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
hesitation
|
|
| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
adorned
|
|
| [计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
hovered
|
|
| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
caressed
|
|
| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
caresses
|
|
| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
omission
|
|
| n.省略，删节；遗漏或省略的事物，冗长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
banking
|
|
| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
pretence
|
|
| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
idiotic
|
|
| adj.白痴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
hazy
|
|
| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
imprinted
|
|
| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
affinity
|
|
| n.亲和力，密切关系 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
smoothly
|
|
| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
frantic
|
|
| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
tantalizing
|
|
| adj.逗人的；惹弄人的；撩人的；煽情的v.逗弄，引诱，折磨( tantalize的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
eluded
|
|
| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
feverish
|
|
| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
feverishly
|
|
| adv. 兴奋地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
scrap
|
|
| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
rebellious
|
|
| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
wary
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
uncouth
|
|
| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
remonstrated
|
|
| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
faltered
|
|
| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
scowl
|
|
| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
brutally
|
|
| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
moody
|
|
| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
sneered
|
|
| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
mutual
|
|
| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
aggravated
|
|
| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
moodily
|
|
| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
grumbled
|
|
| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
wreck
|
|
| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
courteous
|
|
| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
glowers
|
|
| v.怒视( glower的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
proximity
|
|
| n.接近，邻近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
rustle
|
|
| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
hoarse
|
|
| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
delusively
|
|
| adv.困惑地，欺瞒地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
refinements
|
|
| n.（生活）风雅；精炼( refinement的名词复数 )；改良品；细微的改良；优雅或高贵的动作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
weird
|
|
| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
delusion
|
|
| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
awakening
|
|
| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
seething
|
|
| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
voluptuous
|
|
| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
ensemble
|
|
| n.合奏(唱)组；全套服装；整体，总效果 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
anguish
|
|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
sarcastically
|
|
| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
preoccupied
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
considerably
|
|
| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
stammered
|
|
| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
intentional
|
|
| adj.故意的，有意（识）的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
attire
|
|
| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
awfully
|
|
| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
sipped
|
|
| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
evaded
|
|
| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
gnawing
|
|
| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
erratic
|
|
| adj.古怪的，反复无常的，不稳定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
simultaneously
|
|
| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
tattered
|
|
| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
belied
|
|
| v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
defiant
|
|
| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
defiantly
|
|
| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
derisively
|
|
| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
famished
|
|
| adj.饥饿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
arabesques
|
|
| n.阿拉伯式花饰( arabesque的名词复数 )；错综图饰；阿拉伯图案；阿拉贝斯克芭蕾舞姿（独脚站立，手前伸，另一脚一手向后伸） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
124
chirped
|
|
| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
weirdly
|
|
| 古怪地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
winding
|
|
| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
enveloping
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
concealment
|
|
| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
densest
|
|
| 密集的( dense的最高级 )； 密度大的； 愚笨的； （信息量大得）难理解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
rustling
|
|
| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
pallid
|
|
| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
frenzy
|
|
| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
remonstrance
|
|
| n抗议，抱怨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
disturbance
|
|
| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
irresolute
|
|
| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
sneering
|
|
| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
conversed
|
|
| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
vexed
|
|
| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
vault
|
|
| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
crevice
|
|
| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
pokes
|
|
| v.伸出( poke的第三人称单数 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
distrait
|
|
| adj.心不在焉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
jealousy
|
|
| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
outspoken
|
|
| adj.直言无讳的，坦率的，坦白无隐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
interpretation
|
|
| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
conspicuously
|
|
| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
boughs
|
|
| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
aesthetic
|
|
| adj.美学的，审美的，有美感 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
mingling
|
|
| adj.混合的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
detested
|
|
| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
miserably
|
|
| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
tormented
|
|
| 饱受折磨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
misty
|
|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
reproof
|
|
| n.斥责，责备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
upbraided
|
|
| v.责备，申斥，谴责( upbraid的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
stifling
|
|
| a.令人窒息的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
parodied
|
|
| v.滑稽地模仿，拙劣地模仿( parody的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
coterie
|
|
| n.(有共同兴趣的)小团体，小圈子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
variance
|
|
| n.矛盾，不同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
itched
|
|
| v.发痒( itch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
throttle
|
|
| n.节流阀，节气阀，喉咙；v.扼喉咙，使窒息，压 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
usurper
|
|
| n. 篡夺者, 僭取者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
glossy
|
|
| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
tormenting
|
|
| 使痛苦的，使苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
mellow
|
|
| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
descending
|
|
| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
throb
|
|
| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
tenement
|
|
| n.公寓；房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
bondage
|
|
| n.奴役，束缚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
reclaimed
|
|
| adj.再生的；翻造的；收复的；回收的v.开拓( reclaim的过去式和过去分词 )；要求收回；从废料中回收（有用的材料）；挽救 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
ardent
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
repelled
|
|
| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
taunted
|
|
| 嘲讽( taunt的过去式和过去分词 )； 嘲弄； 辱骂； 奚落 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
derided
|
|
| v.取笑，嘲笑( deride的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
rendering
|
|
| n.表现，描写 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
vile
|
|
| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
prodding
|
|
| v.刺，戳( prod的现在分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
severely
|
|
| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
swells
|
|
| 增强( swell的第三人称单数 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |